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astraystayyh · 8 months ago

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The snow falls, we fall apart.

summary: when heartbreak looms on your life, and winter becomes a time you loathe, hyunjin helps you rewrite your memories with the season, and with it, everything you once believed about love.

genre: producer student!hyunjin x reader. roommates!au. friends to lovers. acute descriptions of heartbreak and general sadness. slow burn. hurt/comfort. healing and hopeless romantic hyune. very inspired by long for you so lots of pining and yearning. (wc: 13k)

warnings: mentions of alcohol. it is implied that reader was in an a very toxic relationship but no details are shared.

a.n: happy birthday to my hyunjin, my muse, my light. thank you for being so full of love that it made me love love again in return. this is i think my most personal piece, and i hope it reminds those who need it that love should be soft and kind, that it shouldn’t hurt, that it should heal not break. i love you guys and i love you my xi, writing this collab with you has been a true honor <3 also!! please listen to long for you while reading :,)

winter falls masterlist.

You’ve only ever felt utter despair twice in your life.

First, when you were seven years old, playing hide and seek with your cousins at your grandma’s house. It was a warm summer afternoon, the air sweetened by pastries you devoured hours ago. You decided to hide in a wooden cabinet up in the attic, only to end up stuck there. The walls felt like they were closing in on you, the oxygen seeping away from the cracks underneath the door, leaving you deprived of air, of life.

Second, at twelve, when you've come to discover sorrow's new facet, clad in grief's heavy cloak. Your parents adopted a hamster for your birthday, but they did not know he had a terminal disease. You were distraught, to say the least, when you awoke to its still form, death claiming a frail heart unaware of its imminent fate.

And now, third, many many moons later, you are knocking on Hyunjin’s door a few minutes after midnight. It is cold out, tears tracing rivulets on your cheeks, your fingers tinted pink from roaming outside in the harsh winds, your heart much heavier than when you were a child. More grief-stricken, at your own hands, this time.

A disheveled Hyunjin opens the door, his blonde ash hair tousled and sticking upwards, a clear indication of the many times he had run his hands through it in fits of frustration. His gray hoodie zipped up hastily, revealing the silver cross necklace he was wearing, nestling perfectly against his honeyed skin.

You've always had an aversion to seeking comfort, saw it as revealing your deepest vulnerabilities to a world that isn't always kind. It was easier, much simpler to do so when you were a clueless child— when you sank in your cousin Lia's hold as she attempted to steady your breathing, when your mother cradled you in her lap after Pinky died.

It is much harder now, much more embarrassing because Hyunjin has never seen you this sad, never glimpsed your shadows that now swarm his doorstep, unannounced.

“What's wrong?” he quickly asks, eyes darting over your figure in a rapid search for visible wounds. He wouldn’t find any. All your injuries stem from within— blood doesn’t have to be spilled for your heart to weep.

You had rehearsed a lie as you walked up to his doorstep. You would say that your car broke down near his place and ask if you could stay over for the night. He would insist he could drive you to your place and you’d refuse, saying that it was too late and you did not wish to bother him. You’d sleep on the couch and slip away in the early hours of the morning.

Yet, it is the genuine worry etched in his eyes that dismantles the fortress you've hidden in, melts the lie in your throat, morphing it into a steel lump coiling in your throat. He looks concerned when all you’ve had directed towards you recently was anger. And you missed someone looking at you in care, not reproach.

“I didn’t know where else to go.” You admit, your voice shattered, fragments of your vocal cords scattered out in the wind like a broken mosaic, the sound of it scraping against your ears.

Blow one hurt. It felt like your body turned against you as it deprived you of oxygen. The sobs that escaped you once you perceived the light pained you, perhaps more than being confined in the darkness.

Blow two was even worse, it was your first time experiencing grief. It was too hard of a concept for your innocent heart to grasp, too complicated for you to find solace in anything as adults do.

You promised yourself that you’d reserve blow three for monumental agonies— big pains and big sorrows only. That’s how you managed to keep all your tears at bay for most of your life. Would they be worth losing your third sob for? No, you've always found the answer to be.

And in all the twisted scenarios you’ve conjured up in your mind, deaths and illnesses and the haunting tale of failure, you did not imagine that it would happen on Hwang Hyunjin’s doorstep. That you’d burst into sobs at the compassionate look in his gaze, and the sad smile he sent your way. As if he knew, as everyone did around you. That you had handed a knife to a serial killer and it was only a matter of time before he stabbed you in the heart.

Two weeks ago.

“I’m trying to understand you but you aren’t helping me,” Seungmin is frustrated as he paces relentlessly before you from left to right like a swinging pendulum. You sit on the couch, beholding only his shoes, avoiding his gaze that would reflect the truth you dare not confront.

“He’s sucking the life out of you, can’t you see that?”

You can, out of everyone that surrounds you, you can see it the most. You feel as if you are carrying a skin that isn’t your own, weighed down by a relationship that has taken everything from you. But admitting it is admitting that you were wrong, in trusting him, in loving him. You couldn’t bear it.

“We are fine!” you shout back, the defiance in your voice surprises even you. This is a familiar script with Seungmin, a recurring conversation spurred by your puffy eyes and diminishing appetite. He tells you, begs you to leave, but where could you go? How could you leave a home where you've shed all your treasured belongings at the door— your skin, your bones, your very self.

What place would welcome you now that you're stripped bare of your soul?

“When was the last time he made you smile, huh? All he does is hurt you, and you...” he chuckles incredulously, running his hand through his hair. “You are letting him.”

Deny, deny, deny.

“This isn’t true. He loves me,” the words taste foreign in your mouth like rusty metal dragging across your lips. A small voice whispers that love shouldn't feel like this, but you quiet it down.

“Are you hearing yourself? Yn, I…” he kneels before you, his hands resting comfortingly on your knees. This is Seungmin, your best friend of five years. You know he has your best interests at heart, you are even more sure of it when his voice softens, shakes slightly when he utters your name. “Yn, please. I’m trying to help you. Please.”

“I didn’t ask for your help,” you push away his hands, standing up. “I don’t want your help, and I don’t need it.”

You quickly leave Seungmin’s dorm, your heart heavier than when you entered it, foolishly hoping that he'd ignore your distressed state after yet another fight with your boyfriend. But Seungmin doesn't understand, no one around you does— you’ve gambled your heart, and you cannot stop drawing the cards, even in the face of losing strikes.

❁ ❁ ❁

Hyunjin offers you a cup of tea with a gentle smile and you grab the steaming drink from his hands. The smell of chamomile wraps around your senses, and your brain fizzles out for a second before the soothing aroma. But it is a fleeting respite, the tempest of your thoughts crashes back onto you with an unsettling force, causing you to almost drop the drink as your hands shake. You place it down the table without taking a sip.

“I’m sorry for coming unannounced,” you apologize, wincing at the intrusion, “I hope I didn’t wake you up.”

“I always sleep late. Don’t worry about it,” he smiles, but you know it isn’t a genuine grin, because his eyes betray an unsubdued concern, refusing to morph into their usual moon crescents.

You’ve always thought that Hyunjin wears his emotions openly— when he laughed, he did so loudly, his boisterous giggles traveling around Seungmin’s dorm. When he hurt himself, everyone in the vicinity would know so from his loud yelps. And when something worried him, he would bite his lip, toying with the plush flesh to ease his nerves.

As he is doing now. Looking at you.

“We broke up,” you quickly say, and your words hang over you like a gloomy cloud. “But I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Do you want me to fight him? I’ll bring changbin too,” he suggests a serious tone underlying his playful offer, and it manages to tear a reluctant giggle out of you.

“Changbin doesn’t know me well enough to fight for me,” you counteract and he shakes his head. “He’ll fight for me, I'm his princess.”

“Are you now?” The giggle escapes your mouth less forcefully, and the smile that graces Hyunjin’s face is a genuine one.

“I am. My proposal stands,” he extends his hand and you wrap your fingers around his palm. “Thank you, I’ll keep it in mind,” you smile but he frowns, flipping your hand around in his hold.

“You are freezing,” he whispers, using his other palm to rub warmth into yours.

“It’s fine,” you lie, slipping your hand out of his grasp, not feeling deserving of his kindness.

Wordlessly, Hyunjin stands, walking into what you assume is his bedroom. You only know of his place because you dropped off Seungmin here some time ago. You are too exhausted to even drink in the interior.

“Here,” he returns, handing you a navy hoodie of his and black joggers. “This will keep you warm at night.”

“Thank you,” you whisper, hesitating for a few seconds before speaking again. “Can you please not tell Seungmin, I... I can't face him right now.”

“Of course. I’ll be awake still if you do need something.”

Hyunjin’s clothing is warm, although peeling away your own garments felt like shedding layers of your skin, as if the fabric melted into your very flesh, just like memories from the day did. You have never felt this worthless before, discarded like a forgotten leaf on the roadside, one he stepped on for his own enjoyment, leaving you crushed in his wake, unable to fly away again.

Hyunjin’s rose perfume wraps around you, and you find relief in sleeping somewhere where your, his, scent was no longer around. You foolishly hope that if you close your eyes hard enough, you’ll manage to convince yourself that you’re someone else, tonight. Someone who isn’t tethered to the heartache, someone who can slip away from the clutches of a love that hurts more than hate could ever manage to do.

❁ ❁ ❁

Heartbreak isn’t beautiful, no matter how eloquently you try to dress it in the syllables of poetry, no words can soften the burn in your lungs, the searing ache that courses through your very core, reminding you that deep within, down to the fundamentals of your being and the most basic alchemy that ties your atoms together— you are unlovable. Whether you cut your hair or allow it to grow, change your heart, or leave it as it has always been, you will remain so.

You don’t remember much of the past week, blurry fragments here and there that float in your mind like a distorted water reflection. There is little room for memories when you are busy trying to remember how to breathe— one inhale in, one exhale out. The simple concept seems harder when there are unkind hands permanently lodged into your heart, squeezing it tight.

What you do remember is telling Seungmin through text the next day, because you couldn’t bear the way his eyes would soften if you spoke to him in person. No signs of surprise cast on his figure, because he knew that it was long coming, a train with one final inevitable destination— you in shambles, him okay.

You remember Seungmin cradling you in his arms when he came to see you, and you trying desperately to keep the tears at bay— too focused on pinching your arm to let Seungmin’s warmth radiate through your being, Hyunjin lingering uncomfortably by the entrance of his living room.

You remember begging Seungmin to grab your belongings from the apartment you shared with your ex because you were unable to face him, him, and everything that your old place spelled out for you. Stand in the ruins of what you once thought would be your permanent home.

And now, you watch as Seungmin and Hyunjin bring suitcases full of your stuff into the latter’s place. And you feel like an outsider in your own body, standing at the corner of the room gazing at utter destruction, unable to stop it, unable to mend it. Seungmin quickly reassures you that you could crash in his and Minho’s place until you find a new one to live in, already taking out his laptop to search for new apartments for you.

But you did not care for it, your eyes zeroed in on the satin shirt peeking out of your suitcase. The one he bought you on your first month anniversary. Back when love felt like a gentle feather running down your spine, and not a dull knife slicing away at your skin.

“This place's expensive too,” Seungmin sighs, rubbing his temple warily. Your logical best friend could not fix your heartbreak but he took it to heart to alleviate your other troubles. You would thank him for it, later, when your tongue finds enough will to move.

“What if you move in with me?” Hyunjin suddenly says and his words filtrate through the fog in your mind easily, as if he rehearsed them enough times so they’d roll out smoothly out of his mouth. “I mean, Felix is away for the next year since he went back to Australia. And I was looking for a new roommate anyway.” He shrugs and Seungmin turns to look at you, his eyes convey the question his mouth doesn’t articulate— is it okay with you?

“I don’t…” your voice is croaked, so you clear your throat. “I don’t want you to do things out of pity.”

“I’m not. If I was, I would've told you to move in with me for free. I still need you to pay rent,” he raises his eyebrows, a playful tease and you smile in relief, nodding, “Okay, I will. thank you.”

Heartbreak is ugly and all-encompassing, weaving through the roots of your heart and infecting each organ with its insidious touch. It renders you immobile, incapable of performing the simplest tasks, burdened by a weight unseen by the world. But you try your best, your very best to contain it.

You smile at the cashier as she hands back your money only to wonder if her soft, well-manicured hands would too crush a soul without remorse. You go to all your classes without fail but your mind is elsewhere, contemplating why the sun filtering through the windows no longer warms your skin. Can nerve endings perish when subjected to too much pain? What's left of life when you can no longer feel the caress of the sun?

You watch a movie at Seungmin's dorm but your mind is elsewhere, fleeting to this morning and how you refused to stay in the shower for more than three minutes because your thoughts might become haunting ghosts tempting you to follow them. You brush your hair and spray your perfume, only because you have to, because you live with Hyunjin and you wouldn’t want your sadness to taint him too. You wonder how long you’ll have to bear it. You wonder if it’ll ever leave you or if the veins in your heart have molded themselves after the pain and they wouldn’t know how to accept happiness anymore.

You greet Hyunjin as he walks past you, shaking your head when he asks you if you want to eat dinner with him, quickly retracting back into your room. You have ten unread messages and a pile of growing laundry you need to do, but all you can muster is to gaze at the empty walls, mirroring the void within you. Your mom told you to call her again and you don’t know how you’ll speak to her without bursting into a sob, how you’ll tell her that all it took was one person to break you. Or maybe it was two people, your hands and his tearing apart your flesh and bones. Maybe that’s the worst part about it. So you don’t call her.

And you only ever emerge from your room when you need to, just like now because your water bottle is finished and you need to refill it. You go to open the kitchen door when you hear Hyunjin’s muted shatter, Felix’s distinctive deep voice coming out of the phone speaker.

“Next you add the melted butter and stir it,” Felix instructs, the sounds of pots and utensils clinking in the background. You fidget slightly, mustering the strength to paint a fake smile on your lips.

“What next?”

“Sift the dry ingredients then add them to your wet mixture,” Felix explains, met with a few seconds of silence. You can almost visualize Hyunjin's perplexed expression, blinking rapidly in confusion.

“Explain it to me like I’m five years old,” he requests, prompting a small smile to etch itself onto your face.

“How are you surviving without me?”

“I’m not please come home,” Hyunjin sounds horrified as Felix’s rich chuckles fill the air. “Why do you suddenly want to make brownies anyway?” he then asks.

You go to open the door when Hyunjin’s response catches you off guard.

“They’re for Yn.”

Hyunjin's words resonate in the air, causing a hitch in your throat and Felix’s teasing whistles simultaneously, but Hyunjin is quick to stop him. “No, no, no, it’s not like that. They’re just a bit down and I remember them loving your brownies. So…”

It takes you a fleeting moment to dig the memory out of your mind, a year ago, right before your ex came to pick you up from Seungmin’s dorm. You had a bite of Felix’s brownies, a surprised gasp escaping your lips at its delicious taste, back when food had taste and happiness came easily to you. It was an insignificant memory, you did not imagine Hyunjin, out of everyone, would remember it.

But he did, and he’s now pacing before your closed door, contemplating how he’ll convince you to finally eat something with him. He throws a thumbs-up in the air for no one but himself, inhaling deeply before knocking on your door.

“Hey,” he greets with a hopeful smile, his gaze meeting your tired form. He hesitates for a second, clearing his throat. “Brownies?” You remain unmoving and he falters, “Hm? Please?”

“Sure,” you nod and a wave of relief floods through Hyunjin as you step out of your room. His joy is short-lived when he takes the brownies out of the oven, only to find them thoroughly burnt.

His mouth hangs agape, and he walks back shamefully to the oven, lowering its door only to scream inside of it.

“This will be more therapeutic,” you say, pointing nonchalantly to the fridge and he agrees, opening its doors and yelling once again in the much larger space.

Your melodic laughter fills the kitchen, Hyunjin’s embarrassment is suddenly a forgotten memory.

“I’m craving kimbap. Should we get it instead?” you propose, a touch shyly and he quickly agrees, afraid you’d change your mind and walk back to your room where he can no longer ensure you are okay.

Hyunjin absentmindedly dances along to the music blasting through the convenience store when a girl sidles up to his side, a saccharine grin on her lips as she looks up at him, “hi,” she greets and his tentative smile mirrors hers. “Hey.”

“Are you single?” she asks, her gaze briefly fleeting to the window. “I think you are really cute.”

“I’m…” he glances at you but you're suddenly engrossed in the ingredients of the tuna kimbap you are holding, pretending not to listen. “I am but I’m not interested, thank you.”

“Oh, come on,” she places a hand on his arm and he physically recoils. “Give me your insta and we could talk.”

“No,” he repeats, grabbing her hand to remove it when a loud voice startles him. “Baby, what’s taking you so— What are you doing?” Hyunjin watches in horror as the girl’s eyes grow wide, before she scrambles to the man’s side, feigning fear.

“He kept hitting on me when I said I had a boyfriend, baby.”

“What?” both you and Hyunjin gasped in comical unison. He would find it amusing if not for the escalating anger radiating from the man, who looks like he spends all his days in the gym. Hyunjin suddenly regrets not working out with Changbin.

The man strides towards Hyunjin. “Do you want to die?”

“No? there’s a misunderstanding,” he replies, swiftly standing before you and shielding you with his arm. “Your… baby,” he wiggles his finger in front of the man's face, “she was the one hitting on me!”

The man scoffs loudly, his face growing redder from the anger seething in him. “So you hit on my girlfriend and then accuse her of cheating?” His fist rises threateningly, prompting Hyunjin to step back, accidentally bumping into your chest.

“Wait, wait, wait! Let’s go talk outside, man to man,” Hyunjin pauses, his voice taking on a taunting edge, “unless you're too scared?” he smirks as he feels you pull at his shirt, whispering an incredulous- “What are you doing?” He shakes his head, grabbing your hand and leading you outside, throwing a sly wink at the man behind you now.

“Are you seriously going to fight him?” you ask, your gaze shifting towards the deranged couple who are about to step out of the grocery store. “No, of course not. I'm a lover, not a fighter.”

“You said you'd fight my ex,” you point out and his eyes soften surprisingly.

“You are an exception.” He looks back at the man, who's now walking towards you both. “But anyways, do you know how to run?” he asks and you frown, “who doesn’t know how to—” you pause as realization dawns on you. “No," you whisper furiously.

“Yes.”

“No,” you shake your head, horrified and he nods, eyes apologetic.

“Yes.” His fingers entwine with yours, he squeezes your hand once before he takes off running.

“Hwang fucking Hyunjin!” you shout and he looks back at you, a mischievous smile on his face. “I’m sorry Yn my face is too pretty to be beaten up.”

“He’s following us!” you yell, looking back horrified as the, even angrier, man runs after you.

“Well, run faster!”

“I’m wearing fucking slippers!” you curse and he giggles, tipping his head back, the wind slamming into you both, his hand never letting go of your own.

“Oh my god why is he still running!” you groan and Hyunjin picks up speed, moving you even closer to his sprinting figure

“I know, is it ever that serious?” he yells above his shoulder and you dig your nails into his palm.

“Shut up, this wouldn’t have happened if you weren’t so gorgeous.”

“So, you think I’m pretty too?” Hyunjin grins proudly and an incredulous laugh escapes your lips.

“Really? Is this what you’re getting out of this situation?”

“Silver linings, Yn, silver linings,” he shouts as you round a small alley, finally stopping to catch your breath. You both fall to the ground, heavy breaths escaping your chests.

“Holy shit, I’m not athletic at all,” he heaves, his eyes meeting yours. He expects to find anger lingering in your gaze but all he can grasp is your amused smile before you collapse into a fit of laughter, clapping loudly and clutching your stomach with your hand.

“Oh my god, I��m crying,” you laugh harder, wiping away at the tears falling from your eyes. Hyunjin’s weariness disappears in the blink of an eye— he did not realize how much he missed your smile until he glimpsed it again. And it is beautiful. Happiness looks beautiful on you.

“Idiot,” you hit his shoulder playfully, and his response is delayed for a few seconds, the warmth from your smile rendering him immobile.

“I’m sorry,” he chuckles, pulling you up. “Here, I’ll carry you home,” he squats slightly before you. “How impolite of me. How dare I make your majesty run.”

You shake your head, amused, before climbing atop his back, his warm palms holding your thighs securely. “Only because the slippers hurt my feet.”

You walk in silence for a while, your arms wound up around Hyunjin’s neck, the ghost of a smile still lingering on both your faces.

“They said it will snow tomorrow,” Hyunjin speaks suddenly and you stay silent for so long he starts to wonder if you even heard him.

“Mm? That’s nice,” your tone is melancholic, and he pauses at the peculiar sadness in it�� as though you were trying to act nonchalant about something that has once meant the world to you.

“Don’t you like the snow?” he asks and your hold on his neck falters.

“I loved it. Loved ice skating and building snowmen.” Your voice is light and airy, like Hyunjin’s favorite mint chocolate ice cream. “But now it reminds me of bad times, bad memories.”

“I understand.”

Hyunjin knows what it feels like to relinquish parts of yourself you never wished to part from. For someone to grab your happiest places and to cast a gloomy filter atop them. Sometimes it is the loss of a season that hurts more than the departure of a person.

And Hyunjin loves winter.

He’ll do everything so that you’ll come to love it again too.

❁ ❁ ❁

Is it a nightmare if the person in it is one you once loved, looked forward to beholding with your gaze, hoping they’d never slip out of your reach? You don’t know, but you are growing tired of having the same dreams every night. Of waking up with an exhaustion that goes beyond your restless sleep but pleads from your soul to rest after almost a year of torment.

You sigh wearily, rubbing a hand through your face before walking to the kitchen to retrieve a glass of water. You find Hyunjin there, eating a cupcake while standing shirtless, scrolling through his phone. You blink at the sight.

“Hey,” you clear your throat and he startles, dropping the cupcake on the ground. He goes to pick it up only to bang his head on the table, a loud yelp escaping his lips. You barely contain your giggles as you walk to his side, rubbing your palm soothingly on his head. “I'm sorry I didn't mean to scare you.”

“At least pretend you are sorry,” he mumbles, pointing to your amused smile and you chuckle, taking his hand and helping him to his feet.

“What are you doing up now?” he asks as he grabs some napkins to clean up the pink frosting smeared across the floor.

You hesitate for a few seconds before whispering, “Just nightmares. And you?” you quickly add, not keen on pushing the subject any further.

“I'm working on a song,” he explains, as his gaze lingers on your sunken eyes, weighed down by dark circles from too many sleepless nights.

“And the cupcake?”

“Some people need caffeine to function. I need flour.”

“I literally see you drink three americanos per day.”

“Okay well maybe I need both,” he admits sheepishly and you grin, drumming your fingers along the countertop.

“Can I sit with you while you work?” you ask quickly, before the words linger enough in your mouth that you no longer wish to spit them out.

The smile that Hyunjin sends you is kind, pushing the shadows of your nightmares just slightly out of reach.

“Of course, yeah you can. Don’t even need to ask.”

Hyunjin walks first into his bedroom, quickly slipping on a hoodie while you take in the interior. It is a quite simple room— a large bed with gray covers, and a desk filled with what you assume to be his producing equipment sits adjacent. But what catches your attention is the dried rose hung delicately on the wall, and the array of paintings surrounding it. You edge closer to it, drawn to the well-crafted paintings— a sun-drenched beach, a couple lost in an embrace so intimate their forms can no longer be separated, and an elderly pair riding a motorcycle, their love radiating vibrantly as if enclosed in eternal youth.

“You paint?” you ask, turning around to find Hyunjin watching you. He steps closer, enveloping you once more in the fragrance of his rose perfume.

“In my free time.”

“You are amazing, Hyunjin,” you compliment sincerely, your gaze fixed on that imagery of the old couple, one that most likely grew together. It tugs at your heartstrings, stirs a painful longing within you, a memory of a time when you too believed you’d find such boundless love.

“Thank you,” he murmurs, before brushing his fingertips gently against your forearm, for a fleeting second. “Are you okay?” he asks, a tenderness you’ve been aching for latched into his question. Your eyes refuse to peel away from the paintings and the love spilling from each paint brush stroke, a love that refuses to rest on your being as if you were harboring an armor that repels it.

“No,” you reply sincerely, turning to face him. “It’s really hard,” you say with a smile, hoping that the mechanical display of happiness would keep your tears at bay, tricking your brain into believing you're not as sad as you feel.

It fails to do so, and the tears well in your eyes like a gathering storm. Frustration twists your features as you shut your eyes, tilting your head upward in a desperate attempt to contain the flood. It pauses as Hyunjin cradles the back of your head, drawing you close to the warmth of his neck. His palm glides soothingly along your spine, before patting your back ever so gently.

Your back stiffens, hands curling into tight fists, breath catching in your throat. You've grown accustomed to pushing away comfort, putting up tall barriers to shield yourself. But tonight, Hyunjin seems to break through your defenses.

Tonight, you soften, fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt, head nestling deeper against his tender skin.

“It wasn’t your fault,” he whispers and another sob wracks through you, but he only holds you tighter. “It’ll get better soon.”

“I loved him,” you hiccup, your voice breaks, “a lot.”

“I know, that’s why it hurts.” His voice is gentle, and yet his hold on you feels secure as if you could stumble and fall, and he would be there to catch you

“I want it to stop hurting.”

“It will, with time.”

Your next words are tinged with a childlike vulnerability, reminiscent of blow one, then two. But you do not care for it, in that instant, you crave the reassurance, you need someone to plant a seed of hope in your soul because your hands are too frail to dig for it.

“Do you promise me?”

His response doesn’t come hastily, carelessly thrown into the air like idle chatters. He takes his time, considering it with the gravity of an oath.

“I promise you.” He finally says, each syllable infused with sincerity. A brief pause hangs in the air before he adds. “And if it doesn’t then you can hit me.”

“On your pretty face?” you ask, a smile tugging at your lips despite yourself.

“On my pretty face,” he confirms with a chuckle.

“What an honor,” you roll your eyes playfully as you lean back and he grins, tenderly wiping away your tears with the back of his fingers.

“I can't believe it took three minutes for you to cry in my room. This isn’t good for my reputation.”

“Good thing this will never leave this bedroom, right?” you point a finger at him threateningly, and he pretends to zip his lips, tossing away the imaginary key. “You got it.”

“So what are you working on?” you ask as you settle on the edge of his bed, knees drawn up to your chest.

“It’s a pretty sad song, wanna hear?” he offers, sitting across from you on his chair.

“Yeah, I'd love to,” you smile, and Hyunjin deftly adjusts a few buttons, before his melancholic whistles weave through the air, coupled with the somber melody of a piano. Your breath catches in your throat, the music reaching into the very depths of your soul. It's as if the notes are calling out for a loved one, for a time that has long passed, for a past that will never come back no matter how much we long for it.

The instrumental continues, each piano note and each violin string echo like a bittersweet lament, springing tears to your eyes. But the melody remains beautiful, akin to the beauty always found in the sadness— in the tears that cascade down your cheeks like glistening crystals, in the tremble of your hands akin to branches swaying in the wind, in the rise and fall of your chest with each breath, mirroring the ebb and flow of the waves.

Hyunjin watches you intently as the music envelops you both, his gaze softening with each passing moment. You bring a hand to your chest, almost unconsciously, too engrossed in the melody to even blink. He feels a blush sprout on his cheeks as your teary eyes hold his with the last fading guitar strings.

“You keep on making me cry,” you whisper, your voice choked with emotion, and he grins, tilting his head shyly against his shoulder.

“You like it?” he asks, a tad eager and you nod, not bothering to wipe the lone tears that are falling down your cheeks.

“I think this is what my loneliness sounds like,” you confess softly.

“As do mine.”

A silent beat runs between you both, it isn’t uncomfortable, but safe. Because you understand him, just as he understands you.

“Sometimes I long for things that have passed," he admits, “although I know I can't get them anymore.”

“The most terrible thing you can long for is yourself.”

“Because no one’s to blame for that loss but you?” he muses and you nod, a sad smile tugging at your lips. “Yeah, exactly.”

You bite your lip, casting a glance back at the paintings adorning the wall. “I don't love him anymore,” you begin quietly. “I stopped a long time ago because there was no room for love anymore to grow amid weeds and thorns.”

He remains silent, sensing that this is a weight you need to unburden yourself from.

“But in the midst of it I think I stopped loving myself too,” you whisper, a confession too terrible to be uttered out loud. “That's what I long for. The things I used to love that I'm indifferent to now.”

“Like you’re a stranger before everything once familiar to you.”

“Yeah, you express it prettily,” you remark with a small smile.

“It's my job,” he grins lightly.

“I think when your heart is pure,” he begins after a while, pausing to carefully choose the words that will soothe your burn, help sleep come more easily to you. “You give love to others more readily than you do to yourself. And it takes time, patience, to redirect that love back to your own heart once again. But it's not a mistake to love, you shouldn’t hate yourself for it. Nor should you blame your past self for loving the wrong person because they did not know what you now do.”

“Think of it as a caterpillar in their cocoon,” he continues gently, “when they finally emerge from their chrysalis, they might long for who they were, where they once were because it is the only place they've ever known. But they do not realize that they've transformed into a beautiful butterfly, that they can now fly, and witness much more than their chrysalis. So maybe, your new self will love the same things as before, or maybe you’ll find new, better things to love that you would have not known before. But in either way, your heart is beautiful. That is what matters, no?”

A small pout draws on your lips, your eyebrows scrunched as you gaze at him.

“You have a very tender soul, Hyunjin.”

Your words linger in Hyunjin's mind long after the sunrise, as you lay peacefully asleep on his bed. The melody of the instrumental he produced continues to play faintly in the background, serving as a gentle lullaby that eases you into slumber, entwined in his sheets, your arms wrapped protectively around yourself, one hand cradling your shoulders and the other resting gently on your stomach. The image sears into his eyes as he sketches the outlines of a figure holding itself absentmindedly, long into the night.

Hyunjin has had his fair share of compliments, mostly pertaining to his face, and others to his craft. but it is you who seems to have sensed that a part of his soul resided in his art, that he left pieces of his heart hidden in the notes he composes and the lyrics he writes, hoping they’ll find soft hands that will take care of them, just like your own.

Five days later.

hyunjin [11:34 p.m.]: are you home?

yn [11:34 p.m.]: yeahh, do you need anything?

hyunjin [11:35 p.m.]: come downstairs, im waiting for youu

if you say no i’ll freeze to death..

hurry i can’t feel my fingers anymore (please please) ㅠㅠㅠ

“This better be a life and death situation Hwang Hyunjin,” you say threateningly as soon as you appear before Hyunjin, causing him to straighten up from the wall he was leaning against.

“It is a very dangerous life-altering situation that requires your immediate assistance, indeed,” he responds solemnly, ushering you gently to his car and opening the door for you.

“Which is?” you ask as soon as he settles inside the car and he simply grins at you, his left dimple coming forth like the very sun on a gloomy day.

“You’ll see.”

Hyunjin’s eyes fleet to your figure every now and then, but you do not seem to notice, your gaze lost into the blurring lights ahead. He can tell you're still not entirely yourself, so he was prepared to forcibly drag you along with him. He’s almost surprised you accepted to come down so easily.

“Is that… Seungmin?” you speak suddenly, pointing to a man waving in the distance, as Hyunjin parks his car near an empty field.

“And Changbin? And Minho?” you continue, squinting your eyes, “and a bonfire?” you giggle with a hint of excitement.

“You love s’mores during the winter, right?”

Hyunjin smiles, your soul softens.

“I do,” you say quietly, “I really do.”

You quickly exit the car, running into Seungmin's arms with a grin of disbelief plastered on your face. “This is insane,” you almost shout, squeezing him tight in a hug.

“It was so hard to find the perfect middle of nowhere for this,” Minho grumbles as you move to greet him, but the warmth of his embrace assures you he's only teasing.

“Thank you,” you say with a smile as you hug Changbin, who affectionately ruffles your hair. “It was Hyunjin’s idea,” he reveals, and you glance back at Hyunjin, who stands with his hands buried deep within his sweatpants behind you. You mouth a silent “thank you” to him, but he shakes his head modestly as if it is nothing to bring happiness to a bruised heart.

The night unfolds in endless laughter, with Minho and Hyunjin taking turns roasting marshmallows over the crackling bonfire, and Seungmin serving you hot coffee to keep your hands warm. Your stomach aches from the uncontrollable fits of giggles that overtook your being as Minho recounts the time he danced so vigorously on stage for his dance club that he ripped his pants, feeling a breeze where there shouldn't be one; and Changbin tells you the story of the time his voice cracked in the middle of a rap battle, and how none of the boys stopped teasing him about it for months to come.

And as the four of them take turns making you laugh, a quiet, tender realization dawns on you—you are loved. It is something he tried to convince you was impossible, that no one around truly cared for you but him. And even then, you weren’t deserving of his love whole, only scrapes of it, as if you were a beggar tugging at the outskirts of his heart.

But Hyunjin reminded you otherwise. And if your friends found something worthy of love within you then perhaps so will you again, one day.

“Did you have fun?” Hyunjin asks as he opens the door to his, your, apartment hours later. What he doesn't expect is for you to respond by wrapping your arms around his slender torso, squeezing tight in gratitude.

“Thank you,” you whisper and he nods, though you cannot see him, returning the embrace by wrapping his arms around your shoulder blades.

Hyunjin doesn't let go first, sensing that perhaps you need this hug more than he does. He smiles as your eyes meet his again, but his grin falters when he notices your gaze flickering towards your bedroom, a hint of unease clouding your expression. It's as if behind that door lie monsters only you can grasp, wearing the faces of people you once knew, once loved.

“Wanna stay with me while I work on the song?”

“Last time I ended up sleeping on your bed,” you say a bit shamefully, recalling the morning you woke up to find yourself covered with a thick blanket that wasn’t there before, alone in Hyunjin's room.

“It's okay,” he shrugs, “I missed sleeping on the couch.”

You stare pointedly at him and he chuckles, “Fine, I did not miss it. But you needed the sleep, so it’s okay with me.”

“Fine,” you concede, though you did not need much convincing for it. “But only if you promise you’ll wake me up if I end up falling asleep again.”

Hyunjin tilts his head, thinking to himself for a few seconds before shaking his head stubbornly, a small pout drawn on his face, his eyes semi-closed. “No.”

“Hyunjin!”

“Nu-uh,” he insists, shaking his head once more as he walks back towards his room. “I'm waiting for you!”

“I'm not coming!”

But you do eventually join him, after changing your clothes and washing your face. You find Hyunjin clad in beige and white checkered pajamas, his glasses pushing back his silky hair as he hunches over his journal, scribbling away before erasing what he wrote.

“Struggling with lyrics?” you ask, leaning against the wall and he startles. “Do you float on the ground? Why can I never hear you come in?”

“Or maybe you just love being dramatic,” you sing-song, laying atop his bed, much more at ease than the previous night.

Hyunjin sticks his tongue out childishly in response, and you playfully mimic the gesture before both of you dissolve into happy giggles.

“Kind of,” he explains once you both settle down, “I have this specific feeling in mind that I need to convey.”

“You'll do well,” you reassure softly, “your lyrics are always so beautiful. Remember Cover me?” you smile and he scratches the back of his ear, a shy grin spreading across his face.

“You still listen to it?” he asks and you nod eagerly, attempting to belt into Seungmin’s ending high note. You fail horribly and Hyunjin throws a crumpled piece of paper on your face to get you to stop singing.

“My poor ears,” he laughs loudly, and you retaliate by throwing back a pillow on his head.

“You just don’t get my artistic abilities.”

“I’d get them more if you stayed silent.”

You gasp, faking offense as you stand up to tickle Hyunjin on his chair, he starts squirming immediately, his loud giggles spilling all over the room, coating it in vibrant hues of happiness, and you’re suddenly captivated by the sight of him— his head thrown back, a golden lock framing his laughter-filled eyes, his top lowering slightly to reveal glimpses of his collarbones and the delicate veins that trace enticing paths on his neck.

You pause, your hand hovering over the side of his stomach, as a long-forgotten warmth spreads through your heart, like the first rays of dawn greeting the earth after a long winter night. It doesn’t diffuse quickly through your being, but rather drapes like sticky honey on your veins, making you well aware of your growing blush, of how beautiful Hyunjin is in his joy.

“Never singing to you again,” you clear your throat, laying atop his bed once again, and quickly reaching for your phone, anything to avoid his eyes which rival the crescent moon outside his window.

Hours pass before a warm hand gently settles on your shoulder, rousing you from your slumber. Blinking away the fog of sleep, you find Hyunjin leaning over you, his grin wide and infectious. “Wake up,” he whispers, but you only groan, burying your face deeper into his pillow.

He doesn’t yield, taking hold of your wrist and guiding your drowsy figure upright, before wrapping the blanket snugly around your shoulders. Without a word, he leads you out onto his balcony, carefully putting his neon green beanie on your head to shield you from the cold.

“It’s snowing!” he smiles, and his excited tone manages to dissipate the fog in your mind. You blink repeatedly and soon enough, you too behold the fallen snowflakes, each one resembling a tiny speck of light bidding farewell to the sky to greet the earth.

“You missed the first snow so I didn’t want you to miss this one too,” he explains, and his thoughtfulness blankets you with a warmth that seeps into every crevice in your body, drips down your fingertips and makes the cold of 4 a.m. seem less harsh, less biting to the touch.

You don’t know how to say thank you, because those two words don’t encapsulate the depths of gratitude that you feel for Hyunjin. Because he is speaking to the person within you who still loves snow, the part buried underneath layers of dust from a ground heartbreak. But you still manage to hear him, and you squeeze his hand tightly, and he doesn’t let go until you finally do.

❁ ❁ ❁

Remembering has become easier for you these past two months— both the good and the bad. And each day, the scale tips towards one side or the other. Sometimes you recall the suffocation you felt with him, the feeling that no matter what you did you could never please him, that your hands were crafted to break rather than mend. And on those days your wound grows, it throbs and bleeds different emotions.

Sometimes it's anger— at him for treating your heart so carelessly as if you were a being devoid of feeling. And then at you— for staying, for giving him excuses and desperately searching for goodness within him, for the one redeeming quality that would convince you he was worth the pain.

And other days bring an excruciating sadness along, a weight that presses down upon you until you're paralyzed. Because you feel bad for yourself and for everything you went through. Because you’re unsure how to rise when unseen hands push you deeper into the abyss.

And on these days, Seungmin becomes your anchor. He buys your favorite food, skips classes with you, and takes you to your favorite gardens. He talks and he talks and you try your best to laugh because you do not wish to worry him more. It is enough to be your own burden, you do not wish to burden him too.

But when he drops you home, your facade slips away, the smile fading from your face as if it were never truly yours to wear. You are too tired to pretend so you don’t, and Hyunjin doesn’t let you, either. He brews you tea and orders takeout because he knows you lack the energy for cooking. He goes with you on walks and drapes you in pieces of his clothing— scarves and beanies and gloves because he knows you couldn’t care less about a cold when there is a frost coating your bones. He lets you sit in his room while he works on his songs, and while he paints. Sometimes you talk and often you don't need to. But he’s there. He's there with you.

But you also remember the good. You remember your movie night with the boys, Hyunjin building an entire fort for you, adorned with twinkling lights and the softest blankets. How you watched movies until 5 a.m. your bodies so closely huddled together that there was no room left for sadness.

You recall Hyunjin begging you to build a snowman with him at the crack of dawn, the two of you collapsing in fits of laughter as you threw snowballs at one another, your footsteps marking the fresh fallen snow.

You remember being so exhausted after one of your showers that you simply laid atop the couch, gaze fixed on the void, too drained to even untangle the knots in your hair. Yet, it is not the tiredness that you exactly recall, nor the salty tears you shed underneath the scorching water jet. But it is Hyunjin's tender hands as he brushed through your hair, his fingers tracing the nape of your neck, his knuckles ghosting over the slate of your shoulder. You remember whispering that it was a particularly hard day and Hyunjin understanding. You remember him watching many YouTube tutorials to prepare your favorite seaweed soup, only for it to end up being too salty. But you still ate it all, because he made it for you, to lift your wounded spirits. And that alone was enough for it to taste good.

You remember your heart hardening then softening again, breaking then stitching itself back together, closing off then blooming like flowers on the first day of spring. You remember smiling only to cry then smile again. And you remember liking snow, a bit more than you thought you would. Because Hyunjin was there, holding your trembling hand, steadying it enough for you to rewrite your memories with winter.

So, you want to say thank you.

You do not wish to spell it out, because there are too many things to thank Hyunjin for and too few words to do so. Instead, you drag him to the farmer’s market near your home, and you tell him to help you pick flowers.

“I could be in bed watching my favorite show and yet here I am bestowing you with my enchanting presence,” he sighs, not too modestly, as you both eye the array of colorful blooms.

“Okay, Shakespeare, are you done?” you roll your eyes, attempting your best to hide your grin.

“Done annoying you? Never. These are very pretty,” he adds, pointing to the white roses in full bloom, their delicate petals emitting a sweet fragrance into the air.

“I agree, what else should we add?” you ponder, picking out four roses.

“Mm, Hibiscus? The red in the center is so vibrant,” he suggests, taking out his phone to capture the flower.

“Cute. Baby breath’s would look good too,” you say as you gather the flowers, heading to the cashier with Hyunjin trailing behind, still admiring the delicate blooms.

“Can I write a note?” you ask the middle-aged man as he wraps the bouquet in a powder blue paper.

“Sure,” he replies with a smile, and you return the gesture, quickly jotting down your words.

“Are you done?” Hyunjin grins when you return to his side and you nod, exiting the flower shop.

“What do you think?” you ask, angling the bouquet towards him.

“It's beautiful.”

“It’s yours,” you smile, growing shier at the intensity of his gaze as it lands on you, then the flowers, then on you again. “Take it,” you hand it to him, your cheeks flushing like the hibiscus’s crimson core.

“Actually?” he says softly, his fingers trembling slightly as he accepts the flowers and you nod in response. You bite your lip as you watch him take out the note, his eyes softening once he reads the words inscribed in it— thank you for making my winter less cold.

“Should we go?” you say a tad too cheerfully, turning away, but Hyunjin grabs your wrist, spinning you around once more. His fingers trail up your arm, coming to rest gently on your cheek as he leans down to plant a tender kiss there.

“Thank you,” he murmurs, his lips lingering against your skin for a moment longer than necessary. You think that if his soft lips grace your skin a few times more, your nerve endings might forget the harshness they were subjected to. If his gentle hands remain on your cheeks, then maybe, your heart would heal quicker, better. Maybe your past self that you long for would emerge again, maybe Hyunjin would be able to unearth it.

Your hopeful thoughts disappear as quickly as they arrive, overshadowed by a sense of helplessness that crashes over you, all of the sudden. You sense him before you hear him, the familiar anxiety that is only synonymous with your ex’s presence.

“Yn?” the sound of your name feels harsher in his mouth, the syllables spat out rather than spoken tenderly, as they are when Hyunjin pronounces it. Your veins run cold as his voice pierces the air, your heart skipping three beats at once before plummeting to your knees. You wrap your hand around Hyunjin’s forearm instinctively, and he looks down at you, his expression morphing into one of concern.

You’re unsure of what he sees in you— whether it is your pale face, the quiver of your lower lip, or the fear that has coated all your features— but his eyes harden, his brows furrowing as he gazes at the man behind you.

You refuse to turn around, bracing yourself for his next words. “Yn,” he repeats his tone laced with anger, his fingertips grazing your arm as if intending to force you to face him. But before he can touch you, Hyunjin intervenes, swiftly stepping in between you and your ex, shielding you with his own body protectively.

“Leave,” Hyunjin's voice is cold, dripping with a venomous edge you've never heard from him before, his jaw clenching with barely contained fury.

“Is this your new shiny toy, Yn?” your ex taunts and his voice cuts through your being against your will, triggering a flood of memories you've tried so desperately to suppress. Memories of his cruelty, his manipulation, and the pain he inflicted upon you—using your love as a weapon to bolster his own ego.

“What's in it for you?” you find your voice again, though it trembles when you speak. He is the very embodiment of your pain and everything you loathe about yourself. You wish for the ground to swallow you whole, for a bolt of lightning to strike the earth, anything to spare you from facing him.

“It's only been three months, I didn't know you were a whore.”

Hyunjin's fist connects with his cheek before you can register his words. It all unfolds so rapidly that you barely have time to comprehend it. Your ex staggers back, blood trickling from the cut on his lip, while Hyunjin stands before you, his chest heaving with restrained anger, his right hand clenched into a fist, the bouquet still held tightly in the other.

“Fine, I deserved it,” your ex chuckles, his voice laced with mockery as he wipes the blood from his lip. His gaze meets yours briefly behind Hyunjin's back.

“You might not be a whore but you are unlovable, keep that in mind.” He spits out before walking away, crude words that tear at every scab covering your wounds, reopening them with a brutal force. Hyunjin moves to follow him, but you grab his shirt, pulling him back.

“He’s not worth it,” you murmur.

Your words seem to snap Hyunjin out of his haze as he turns to look at you, worry cast across his figure. He moves to cradle your cheeks but you step back, refusing to meet his eyes. He swallows thickly, clutching the bouquet in his hands. “Are you okay?”

You let out a heavy sigh, your shoulders slumping as you shake your head slightly. “Let's just go home,” you whisper, eyes fleeting to his for a split second. All the lights in your gaze are muted.

You’re crumbling before him once again and he cannot stop it, no matter how much he yearns to.

It's long past midnight when you find yourself seated on the floor of your living room, a bottle of red wine placed between you and Hyunjin. You exchange it wordlessly, taking turns sipping from it, the alcohol warming your insides but doing little to ease the ache in your heart. You don’t exactly recall when Hyunjin sat next to you, but you don’t mind. You were too lost in your own thoughts to even register his presence.

“Yn,” he calls out softly and you hum absentmindedly, memories of when your ex spoke your name haunting you, each time he yelled your name, uttered it in disdain as if it was the starting point of everything wrong with you.

“Talk to me, please?” he pleads, angling his body towards your own. But you refuse to meet his eyes and Hyunjin’s heart twists in his chest. He is afraid of all the ugly thoughts that must roam your mind. He wishes he could enter it, open the windows wide, and usher the light in.

“I'm sorry you were dragged into this,” you say, your gaze fixated on the bouquet placed atop the table. The crimson painted on the hibiscus’ petals reminds you of the blood that spilled from your ex’s mouth, and your gaze fleets to Hyunjin's hand, slightly bruised from the punch.

“Don’t apologize,” he whispers, “there is nothing to be sorry for.”

It’s as though you don’t hear him, your fingers trailing gently across his scraped knuckles, tears pooling in your eyes the more you stare at his hand.

“Does it hurt?” you ask, voice thick with emotion, and Hyunjin’s quick to shake his head. “No, don’t worry about it. He deserved it.”

“You didn’t deserve to be hurt.”

“Neither did you.”

Your disbelieving scoff that follows scares him. What if you’re slipping away into a dark place yet again, one void and barricaded, in which the only sound that echoes is your ex’s hurtful words? What if he can’t reach you again?

“If the only person I’ve ever loved says I’m unlovable then maybe I am.”

You’re drunk, you wouldn’t have said such an ugly thing otherwise, wouldn’t have allowed this sentiment to materialize into the air, to take a tangible form apart from your abstract thoughts.

“No,” Hyunjin says in a panic as though he’s trying to quickly pull the brakes on your free-railing thoughts. He cups your face between his palms, your tears falling freely atop his hands but he does not move away.

“No,” he repeats, more calmly this time. “How he treated you is a reflection of who he is. And how you see him is a reflection of who you are. And you wanted him to be loving because you’re full of love. You wanted him to be good because you are a good person. And he can’t stomach that, can’t stomach that you are happy without him so he’s trying to ruin you again.”

“Hyunjin…” you shake your head but he only inches closer to you, his thumbs gently caressing your cheekbones. “No, listen to me. Seungmin loves you so much he couldn’t eat properly for the first few days you stayed here, texted me all the time asking me how you were and if you were feeling better. He isn't good with words so instead he tries to make you laugh. He wishes he could give up parts of his happiness for you.”

A sob swells within you but Hyunjin presses on. “And Minho, he tried to memorize all your favorite recipes so he could cook them for you. It isn’t a coincidence that every time we go over to their dorm it is your favorite food that we eat. He takes more pictures of his cats these days so he could send them to you because he knows it cheers you up.”

“You told me Changbin doesn’t know you well enough to fight for you but when we saw your ex across the campus one day he wanted to get up and beat him. He always asks me if you are well and if there is something he can do for you, anything.”

He inhales deeply, tears welling up in his eyes as well. “And me…” a tender smile graces his lips as he gazes at you, “you make this house a home. I feel like my true self when you are around and loneliness doesn’t come to me as often as it did. Because you are here. You are like a beam of sunlight that lightens up every life you touch, mine first,” he’s baring his soul to you, vulnerable yet resolute. “So tell me, Yn, what’s not to love in you when you yourself are so full of love?”

“Hyune,” you speak the nickname for the first time, and Hyunjin’s heart thrashes achingly around his ribcage. “If you keep talking like this I might end up loving you,” you smile sadly at him as if it is a terrible thing to be loved by you.

“But I don’t want to love you, because I won’t know how to, not anymore. So I'll end up leaving. And I'll long for you, and I don't think I can stomach longing for you from afar.”

“So please,” you place one hand atop his own, wipe away the lone tear rolling down his cheek. “Don’t make me love you, hm? You deserve more than to be loved by someone like me.”

You leave Hyunjin in the living room, alone before the white flowers you gifted him. He doesn’t want to put them away in a vase, for as soon as he grabbed them from your hold, everything around you both crumbled. So he leaves them there for the night, the creamy white petals aglow underneath the moonlight. He spends the night painting the bouquet from memory, but the petals end up too tinged with red, perhaps mirroring the blood his heart refuses to stop spilling still.

He did not realize it before, maybe he blinded himself so he wouldn’t see what was before him all along. But it is all the clearer to him now— that in his attempts to make you love winter again, Hyunjin only ended up loving you.

A week later.

hyune [1:25 a.m.]: i miss you

You and Hyunjin spent the last seven days avoiding one another, well you more than him. He just understood your silent plea when you took a step back the one time he tried to talk to you in the kitchen, swallowing thickly before inching away, allowing you to move past him.

You did not know how to face him after what he said, partly because you were embarrassed by your own response, mostly because even in your drunken daze, his words etched themselves permanently into your memory.

It is his reassuring words that echoed in your brain for the past week, not those of your ex.

hyune [1: 26 a.m.]: and i miss sleeping on the couch

You giggle, shaking your head before replying.

yn [1:26 a.m.]: no you don’t

hyune [1:26 a.m.]: no i don’t ㅠㅠ

but i finished the song

wanna hear?

Walking to Hyunjin’s room feels as familiar as going into your own. And when your gaze finally meets his you can’t help but break into a relieved smile. It was foolish of you to punish yourself, enough people have done that for you already.

“Hey,” he greets tentatively, and you respond with an awkward wave, a moment pregnant with anticipation passes before both of you dissolve into laughter.

“What is this? Are we in middle school,” he teases and you giggle, settling comfortably on his bed once more.

“I know. We are so lame.”

“You are,” he corrects with a grin and you gasp, pretending to leave but he quickly catches your hand, stopping you. “No, please stay. I meant it when I said that I missed you,” he repeats quietly, as if afraid that his confession would make you run away once again.

Your heart aches, the knots in your stomach tightening and unraveling all at once. “I missed you too,” you admit softly, and he smiles, his thumb tracing a gentle path above your pulse before releasing your hand.

“So it's done then?” you ask and he nods, running a hand through his hair with a hint of anxiety. “How do you feel about it?”

“Good. I hope you’ll like it, mostly.”

“I'm sure I will,” you reassure him with a soft smile, and he nods once more, pressing a few buttons before his melodious whistles fill the air once again.

Nothing could have braced you for the sound of Hyunjin's voice that followed, its timbre soft as silk yet imbued with profound sorrow. It's as though he recorded the song on one of his loneliest nights, his honeyed vocals dipped in an excruciating nostalgia that seeps into every corner of the room, every corner of your heart.

In the faded photo, I come across a smile spread across a youthful face, overlapped with the seasons.

Your gaze flickers to Hyunjin as a shadow of recollection dawns on you. You remember telling him that you couldn’t stomach looking at pics of your past, ones in which you smiled so freely because you were blissfully unaware of what was to come.

The night’s so cold that it’s almost unreal.

Because you weren’t aware of the winter that will follow and the biting cold that it would bear, for everything that will go astray in your relationship, for your ex's facade to crack like a glacier succumbing to the pressure of lies and pretense.

I wake up in another silence, and I close my eyes.

You remember Hyunjin confessing that silence haunted him more than words ever could, and you had agreed, sharing how sometimes you shut your eyes, pretending that the reality you woke up to wasn't the one you were living.

The white flower we planted together has bloomed. I do not dare pick it. Now it withers away.

You gaze at the white flowers you brought him, now wilted in the vase placed on his desk, yet Hyunjin refuses to throw them still. You see the card you wrote for him hung on the wall, right next to the dried red rose. He kept it. Though it withered, he kept it all.

So I long for you. And I long for you. And I'll long for you.

You remember the longing you both spoke of, how he understood a feeling you felt so incredibly alone in. How he tried to reassure you when he too was caught in the webs of the past. How you longed for him in the past week. How you wished he longed for you just the same.

So I can keep loving you. So I could be loving you. And morе.

The violin swells and so does the emotion in your chest. You remember him asking you ‘What’s not to love in you’ and how you've spun those words in your thoughts ever since. You remember thinking that if he gave you a few more weeks, just a bit more time, you might have found it in you to believe them.

You see Hyunjin’s glimmering eyes holding yours, you see his heart atop a platter handed to you, and you see the resignation in his being. Don’t make me love you, you told him. You didn’t dare to tell him not to love you in return, deemed it too foolish of thought to entertain.

For he was Hwang Hyunjin, the quiet producer who paints in his free time and who wears his heart on his sleeve. Who remains hopeful, loving, and tender, despite the thorns pricking at his side. Who is beautiful, so much so that he allowed you to see beauty in the universe once again, through his eyes.

How could he love you?

How could you not love him?

“The song,” you whisper, the words barely escaping your lips as you stand, trembling, on your feet. Hyunjin rises too, meeting you in the center of his room.

“It is about you. For you,” he says simply as if his words don’t cause your world to burst at the seams only to mend itself once again, too eager to fix itself and exist in the same timeline as Hyunjin.

“I don't… I don’t know what to say,” you say earnestly, feeling your heart pound in your chest, its beats resounding loudly in your ears.

It is wrong of you to assume he wishes you to say something. He is Hyunjin, the one who finds words in your silences too, after all.

“I don’t need you to say anything,” he shakes his head, taking another step closer to you. “I don't want an answer, I don't wish to pressure you. I just wanted to tell you that my love is here, it is yours to take or to leave, to cherish or to discard. But it is yours, because this is who I am. I am someone who loves you.”

“So do not tell me to forget you because I don't know how to. And don’t tell me that you’ll leave because I will love you still, because you’d still be you, near or far, you are you. And you are someone I long for.” He pauses, his voice softening. “And I long for you, Yn, more than anything I've ever longed for. And I've spent all my life longing.”

His lips meet your forehead tenderly, and you feel your entire being grow limp at the chaste kiss, as if your limbs wish to liquefy and form a puddle on the floor. His touch is soft, and you miss it the moment he parts from you.

“There must be something in this room that keeps on making you cry,” he smiles and you bring your hands to your damp cheeks, surprised to find there tears you didn’t realize had fallen.

“It’s you,” you pinch his arm playfully and he squirms away from your hold, stabbing his toe on the desk in the process. A loud fuck echoes around the room, and your laughter dissipates the tension clinging into the air.

“Can you play it again?” you request softly and Hyunjin’s theatrics fade as a shy smile tugs at the corner of his lips.

“Is it good?”

“It's everything to me.”

“It's called ‘long for you’, by the way.”

“Long for you,” you repeat quietly. There has never been a prettier combination of words.

The title all but makes sense as you lay on the bed, your gaze fixed on the paintings hung on the wall, Hyunjin sketching quietly on his desk, the song resonating softly in the background. You've longed for many things in your life—the person you once were and the tender love you once craved—but amidst it all, nothing has weighed heavier on your heart than the longing for the man sitting just two meters away, almost in your loving grasp. Almost.

❁ ❁ ❁

It is an excruciating five days that Hyunjin spends apart from you, the both of you too caught up in your assignments to find a moment to properly speak. But you do not shy away from him when he greets you, and your grin is kind as it drapes across his being, and Hyunjin swears he has never seen a prettier sight than you smiling.

On the sixth night, Hyunjin completes the cover for the song— a figure wrapped around itself protectively, mirroring the way you hug yourself in your sleep. He hangs it on the wall, right next to your thank you card and the white bouquet he drew once again, wishing to properly immortalize its beautiful flowers, to purify that memory from the tumult that followed it.

On the sixth night, the house is quiet, the full moon high up in the sky, snowflakes falling softly to the ground. Hyunjin wonders if you too mimicked the snow’s descent— both of you falling apart with it.

But then, there’s a knock on his door.

His heart catches in his throat, his body freezing as if it forgot how to move. You are here.

“Come in,” he manages to say, his voice barely above a whisper. You push the door open, and Hyunjin's words wilt on his tongue as he sees what you're carrying—another bouquet, filled with white flowers, yet again.

“Hey,” you smile, standing by the door.

He remains silent, unsure of what to say, or how to speak. He longs for you when you are away, even more so when you’re before him.

“We shouldn't let these white flowers wither away too, right?” you smile slightly, placing the bouquet on the desk before walking to Hyunjin’s bedside. His voice falters, vocal cords refusing to move and overshadow your voice.

You sit beside him, gently pulling his hand so that you’d both lie on the pillows. Your hand doesn’t leave his own, instead, it moves to rest on his cheek, reminiscent of the many times he had cradled your face before. Inch by inch, you close the gap between you, nuzzle the tip of your nose against his own. “Hi, Hyune”, you say softly, and he swallows thickly, his voice coming out just as quietly.

“Hi, my Yn.”

“If we take care of the white flowers together do you think they’ll survive a bit longer?” you ask, your gaze never wavering from his, countless stars twinkling in the depths of your irises.

“I believe so,” he says tentatively, too aware of the warmth of your palm against his skin, of the sweet ache unfurling within his being.

“Mm, and even if they wilt we can always buy new ones. We can learn how to care for them better, with time,” you say, and he nods in agreement, laying his hand atop your own, tilting his head to bestow a chaste kiss on your palm.

“With time,” he echoes softly and you smile, vulnerable yet secure in his gray sheets, in his hold.

“Will you give me time too?” you ask, and Hyunjin reads in your eyes what you mean, understands in the shake of your voice the question you are too afraid to voice. Will he give you time to heal in order to love?

“As long as you need. I’m not going anywhere,” he reassures, pressing his forehead gently atop yours, and you both close your eyes, as a running warmth encloses you both, blooms a blush on both your cheeks.

His arms wrap around your back, drawing you close until your chests are pressed together, your head resting naturally in the curve of his neck. And it is long forgotten in your mind, all the nights you slept in this very bed alone. You feel safe, safe enough to long for love knowing that it patiently awaits you behind the door, once you find enough courage to turn the doorknob. You feel serene, as Hyunjin’s warm palms glide soothingly up and down your spine, as every muscle, every nerve, every atom in your being relaxes in his hold.

You are healing, slowly, with each fleeting second that passes in which Hyunjin’s heartbeat resounds within your chest, as its melody runs through your veins, melds with your own as if it was destined to be there all along. As you rest in Hyunjin, as you find a safe home within his soul to discard your worries at the doorstep and breathe.

“It did get better,” you whisper, pressing a kiss to his shoulder blade. “Hm?” He leans back to look at you, and he’s so beautiful, so tender as he gazes at you, you can’t help but trace the contours of his face with your fingers, hoping to commemorate him with your eyes, with your touch.

“You promised me it’ll get better, and it did,” you smile, as your legs further intertwine with his, and his rose perfume becomes an indelible mark on your skin. “Too bad I can't hit your pretty face now,” you joke and he giggles, tipping his head back.

He's so beautiful, body and soul, and he longs for you, you alone.

“But I can still do this,” you murmur before finally pressing your lips against his like a boat finally reaching the shore after months of sailing. You both exhale, in yearning, in relief, as your mouths move together in a slow, languid dance, his hand finding the pulse on your neck, yours settling atop his jaw.

He would kiss you again, this intimately, in the coming months, when your heart expands enough to contain the love Hyunjin deserves. He would kiss you again, when your past comes to haunt you, and healing sounds like an elusive myth you’d never encounter in your life.

And he would kiss you again, over the kitchen table and under the fridge’s light, in between paintings and in supermarket aisles, while picking flowers and watching the first snow.

He would kiss you, this tenderly, in the next winter, and the ones after it, as if his longing for you never wanes. Till blow three disappears from your memory, till all you remember is the love, the true one, the kind one, the soft one Hyunjin alone could have brought you.

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cinnamon-galaxies · 8 months ago

Note

Hi! I saw that your request box was open. Could I request a Alastor x fem!reader who is a mornigstar, charlie's older sister and she is engaged with Alastor. In episode 5, Dad beat Dad, I thought their relationship is kept secret and was revealed later on shocking lucifer and their friends

Dad beat Fiancé beat Dad

Pairings: Alastor x Fem!Reader / Alastor x Morningstar!Reader Tags: hurt/comfort, (a little bit of) fluff, secret relationship/engagement, Alastor vs Lucifer, Morningstar!Reader, Fem!Reader Warnings: language/swearing, kiss, argument/bickering, reader is Charlie’s older sister, English is not my first language! Summary: You are Charlie's older sister and secretly engaged to Alastor. When your sister invites your father to the hotel to ask for his help with her rehabilitation program, you look forward to his arrival. However, things take a turn when tensions escalate between your father and your fiancé, leading to heated bickering. Overcome with frustration, you finally lash out and accidentally reveal your engagement to the King of Hell and the hotel's residents. Wordcount: 5.4k A/N: This one turned out so long! I really hope you like it and that the story meets your expectations! English is not my first language so I want to apologize for possible grammar and spelling mistakes. I really tried my best to make as few mistakes as possible!

“Well, I’m actually running a hotel to rehabilitate sinners. Maybe you saw our commercial,” you heard your younger sister speak into the telephone, releasing a nervous chuckle here and there. Then a sigh escaped her lips. “Listen, dad, I’ve got kind of a big ask…” You stood a few feet away and stared at her, unsure what to think of this whole idea. Was it really that smart to ask your father to organize another meeting with heaven? The last one already didn’t end well. But what other choice was left for you? Still, it released a weird feeling inside your guts, now that you watched Charlie calling your dad, since your and your sister’s relationships with him were kind of… special. Your father tended to distance himself from the both of you for the most time, bathing in his own emotional dilemma and not even trying to do anything about it. Thus neglecting the both of you. Well, at least he called your sister five months ago regarding that meeting with Adam in heaven’s local embassy. But when it comes to you it’s been even longer since you’ve talked. Maybe a year? Or even longer. You didn’t actually know and also some part within you didn’t even want to. But what you knew is that you missed him. Although, in contradiction, you weren’t really fond of him at the moment. It’s not that you didn’t love him. He was your father, regardless, and you both shared a lot of wholesome and fun memories. But since your mother had left him seven years ago, things had turned out strange and you didn’t really approve of his weird-ass behavior towards you and your sister. Still, you hoped your father would agree to help you out. Maybe, just maybe, there was a probability that you saw him again. You had so much to tell him. Your life has changed a lot since you started supporting your sister in the hotel. And even before, when you met Alastor…

Lost in your thoughts you missed parts of the phone call and as your consciousness returned to reality, you saw your sister taking the phone down and ending the call. Curious about the outcome you cocked your head. “What did he say?”

“Well,” Charlie stared at an empty space for a brief moment, “it seems that dad will be coming over.”

Your mouth fell agape and your eyes widened in surprise. “Wait, really?” you asked her and a huge smile grew on your face. “That’s awesome! When?”

Charlie proudly straightened her back and stemmed her hands into her hips. “We have an hour until he gets here.”

You turned around to face the other residents who sat on the couch and raised your voice, “Okay people. Dad’s on his way, so we’re getting this place presentable and we are all going to make an amazing impression. Let’s go!”

That’s when Vaggie spoke up, “That’s a great idea! Husker, Angel and I will go get some decorations for the lobby,” her eyes wandered down to Niffty, “Niffty, you and Sir Pentious will bake some cookies so we have something to eat when it’s time for coffee.”

Nifty nodded exaggeratedly, almost vibrating from that force she put into her motion. She instantly grabbed Sir Pentious’s hand and dragged him down the hallway towards the kitchen. When Husker, Angel and Vaggie went to get the decorations from the storage room you and Charlie were left alone.

“Are you as excited as I am?” You asked her with a moving voice and examined your sister expectantly. It was no secret that Charlie took that whole situation with your father a bit differently from you. While you almost imploded waiting to get a chance to meet him again, your sister was more reserved and kept herself a bit more distant from him. Even though she was the one your father seemed to favor when it came to dealing with the conflict with heaven. It didn’t matter that you were the older daughter…

“Ahm… I don’t know,” Charlie responded nervously stroking her neck, “I mean, yes, I am. But at the same time…” She hesitated and you put your hand on her shoulder.

“Don’t worry, sis. I can understand,” you reassured her with a calm voice and smiled at her with genuine eyes. You could feel her shoulders relax under your supporting gesture.

“Thank you,” she responded and returned your smile. “It’s just… You know, since he and mom split, I often don’t feel like his daughter anymore. Yet he sounded very excited to come over.”

You took a deep breath and removed your hand from her shoulder. “We’ll see how things are going when he arrives.”

Charlie chuckled. “Well, I think you should go and inform Alastor about our special guest,” she requested, raising her eyebrows in concern. Charlie was the only person at the hotel who knew about your secret relationship with him. When you decided to knock on the door to propose your support to your sister, you and Alastor were already dating. In fact, you were the one who dragged him here because – regardless of his fearful and sketchy reputation – you knew he’d make a great hotelier and protector for the residents during future exterminations. But you both didn’t introduce yourselves as a couple right away. Instead, you found common ground in letting your sister know but keeping it hidden from the other residents. There were several reasons you both had decided against making your relationship public: Alastor’s reputation as the Radio Demon, yours as Lucifer’s oldest daughter, the gossip, the media… These and many more were all things you didn’t want to deal with. Especially since Alastor was a very private person who despised showing affection outside his private space and you, as a person who had no desire to brag about your partner, were totally fine with it. What happened in private chambers stayed in private chambers. That was your agreement, and if you let your friends know about your relationship, there would be too much risk that it would eventually become public. The only other person next to Charlie, and outside the hotel, who knew about your and Alastor’s connection, was his decades-long friend Rosie.

Repeating your sister's request in your head you nodded in agreement. It was the best to prepare Alastor. Even though an hour alone wouldn’t be long enough for him to digest the fact that he was about to meet your father. “Oh, I think he’ll be excited about the news,” you responded with a sarcastic tone and couldn’t help but release a malicious laugh. Oh, how much he will hate this...

You heard Charlie laughing along and shaking her head in amusement. But as quickly as the amusement appeared, it disappeared as you continued to think about the fact that Alastor was actually going to meet your father. With a deep breath you dropped your smile and lowered your voice. “Do you think it would be a good idea to tell dad about Alastor and me?”

“Ahm…” Charlie seemed to think about it more carefully before commenting, “I actually don’t know… I wish I could tell you but that’s something you and Alastor have to decide. First of all, I’d wait until after they had their first impressions of each other. Then… maybe… introduce him to the truth? I mean, if you and Alastor plan to stay together, what I hope – I mean… It’s obvious, why else would you date if it isn’t for staying together?” She chuckled at how much she was lost in her words and cleaned her throat. “I’m sorry. What I mean to say is that it would be beneficial for your shared future if you let dad know. At least at some point in the future.”

You nodded in understanding and gifted her a slight smile. “Thank you. Maybe I’ll talk to him about this later. First of all, I need to prepare him for meeting his soon-to-be father in law.” You laughed and excused yourself before you left the lobby and went upstairs.

When you arrived at Alastor’s radio station you knocked on the door.

“You may come in!” you heard Alastor’s dulled voice through the door and opened it. When you entered the radio station you immediately saw him sitting at his desk, leaning over some papers and holding a pen in his hand. When you closed the door, he placed the pen to the side and turned to look at you.

“Why hello, darling,” he greeted you, his signature smile on his face but his red eyes revealing a neutral expression. “What brings you here?”

“Well...” You took a deep breath and strolled towards him with your hands folded behind your back and your lips pressed to your teeth. “I’ve got some news for you that you’ll probably hate.”

“Oh?” he responded curiously and tilted his head to the side. His red hair swayed with the movement.

You arrived at his desk and leaned against the tabletop, your front mostly faced towards him. You tilted your head in the same direction as he did and couldn’t manage to suppress an amused smile. “My dad will be here in less than an hour,” you said with a cocky voice and watched Alastors expression shift as his lips curled up around his smile and his eyes immediately twitched. An awkward silence fell over the room before he broke it with a snippy tone, “You’re right. I hate that news.” His neck returned to a straight and more natural position and you chuckled.

“Vaggie’s the one to blame. She came up with the idea that Charlie should call him to ask for help because she could no longer bear seeing my sister ripping her hair out in despair over her missing rehabilitation success,” you explained and a growl escaped Alastor’s throat. He already didn't like Vaggie and now he probably liked her even less.

“Splendid,” he said without enthusiasm and stood up from his chair, grabbing his microphone cane and leaning on it. Now taller than you, you had to tilt your head back to be able to look him in the eyes. “How about I excuse myself and disappear for another set of seven years?”

“Oh, no, no, no, no, no, no, no,” you responded, raised your index finger and waved it in front of him. “You will stand your ground and behave. It’s just my dad.”

“He’s the king of hell, darling.”

“And that's why you'll be going down there and prove to him that you're a worthy partner for his princess daughter.”

He gritted his teeth and your smile widened as you nonchalantly brushed the wrinkles out of his coat.

“Are you questioning my abilities, darling?” He asked, placing one of his hands on top of yours, thus stopping your movements and squeezing it.

You felt your cheeks blush at his affectionate action and stepped closer to him, your body now close enough that it almost touched his. You could feel the warmth radiating off him and tilted your head slightly, your eyes still locked with his. “No, I’m not. And that’s exactly why I want you to do as I said.”

“Oh, is her dear royal highness misusing her mightiness to give me an order?” he asked with a low and unusually soft voice and a shiver ran down your spine. Oh, how you loved it when he became flirty. His charm was able to captivate you instantly, weakening your legs and waking those tingling butterflies in your stomach. He removed your hands from his coat and pulled you closer to him. Your body now touching his, you felt the urge to rest your head into the crook of his neck but resisted.

“She indeed is. And you better behave, peasant,” you teased him back and Alastor narrowed his eyes at you degrading him like this.

He let go of one of your hands and instead cupped your cheek before using his fingers to lift your chin up. “You seem to forget that I’m your finacé”, he purred, leaning in closer until only a few inches separated your noses from touching. His hot breath stroked your face and you could’ve sworn that his eyes had turned to a darker hue.

Without further hesitation he pulled you into a tender kiss. His lips brushed over yours and you leaned in closer, succumbing yourself completely to him. Your free hand roamed up and slid through his hair, pressing his face closer to yours. After a few moments of togetherness both of you let go of each other.

“We should return to the foyer. My dad can arrive any minute,” you said and stroked his cheek before heading towards the door. You could hear Alastor sigh behind you.

“Just as a reminder: I can’t promise you things will go well.”

You rolled your eyes as you left the radio station together. “At least try.”

After you entered the foyer most preparations were already done and it didn’t take long until your father arrived. Your body was shaking from excitement as you and Charlie went up to the door and your sister opened it.

"Charlie!,” your father shouted with joy. A huge grin sat on his face and his yellow eyes sparkled as his gaze fell on your sister who stood much closer to him. He held out his arms and approached her, pulling her into a hug. “It’s so good to see you!”

“It’s good to see you too, dad,” Charlie pressed through the tight hug of her father, overwhelm and a little bit of uncomfort in her expression.

When Lucifer let go of her his eyes fell on you. "Y/N! You’re here too?” his pupils dilated in surprise and you immediately found yourself wrapped in his arms as well.

“Dad!” you greeted him as you placed your hands around his torso and squeezed, the soft fragrance of his cologne entering your nose. He smelled the same he always did, the scent taking you back to the past when your family was still together and healthy. It was wonderful to be this close to him after such a long time and you wished this moment could last longer. You looked to the side and saw Alastor standing near your sister. But what you didn’t see was one of his eyes twitching at your father’s gesture.

You let go of each other and Charlie held out her hand, spinning and pointing at the lobby. “Welcome to the Hazbin Hotel!”

The other residents greeted him with waving hands from afar and your father smiled back at them, walking through the lobby and letting his gaze wander around. “Wow, this place looks, uh…” he twisted his mouth in an unpleasant manner and frowned, searching for the right words. He chuckled nervously and you and Charlie exchanged glances as he stammered around, turning to the side and surveying the establishment as if he was a property inspector. You could tell that nervousness spread across Charlie’s face as she probably hoped his words wouldn’t be too dismissive. You shrugged your shoulders at her to dismiss your father’s unsettling behavior and followed him.

“What do you think, dad?” you dared to ask him in hopes he’d come up with a response a little faster if you pushed on him a little.

“It’s got a lot of character,” he eventually said and winched with a squeak when he turned around and laid eyes on the bar. “What in the unholy hell is that?” he asked repulsively and pointed to the swampy-looking counter decorated with skulls and two full snake skeletons wrapped around the poles. The green wood paneling disrupted the noble red wallpaper of the looby, making it appear like an eyesore amidst the otherwise mostly luxurious decor.

A dark shadow crawled around the floor and took the form of Alastor who appeared right next to him. “Just some of the renovations we had done! ” he explained, pointing his cane at the bar, his signature smile wide and confident before he turned towards Lucifer and leaned on his cane. “Adds a bit of color, don’t you think?”

“And you are?” Lucifer asked with raised eyebrows, a skeptical tone in his voice.

You, again, exchanged glances with Charlie and held your breath. The moment has come in which your father and your financé had their first contact and somehow you got the feeling that this won’t end well. Your sister seemed to be fearing the same and she stepped closer to you. Her presence calmed your tension at least a little.

“Alastor,” your finacé introduced himself, “Pleasure to be meeting you, sir. Quite a pleasure!” He shook your fathers hand and you could see the disapproval in both their eyes, before they let go. Your father grimaced while Alastor wiped his hands over his coat.

This most definitely won’t end well. But before you and Charlie could say something, Alastor continued, “It’s nice to finally put a face to the name. You are much shorter in real life.”

You breathed in sharply. Your father didn’t seem to take his comment well as his expression immediately turned to annoyance. You and Charlie both approached them, your sister standing next to your father while you kept closer to Alastor. You really hoped that he’d notice your disapproval over how things were going and slow down a bit. But you knew him well enough to be sure he wouldn’t notice the tension in the room and also wouldn't care if he did.

“Who is this?” your father asked, his eyes fixated on the demon before him. “Who’s this now? Are you the bellhop?”

Alastor laughed in response. “No! I’m the host of the hotel. You might’ve heard of me from my radio broadcast,” he explained.

Your father pretended to ponder his words for a very short moment but then denied with a derogatory snort. “Nope! I guess that’s why Charlie called it the ‘Hazbin Hotel’?” He laughed at his pun, this time more maliciously. The tension grew stronger and you didn’t even realize that you held your breath and pressed your fists so tightly together that your nails painfully stung your palms. Your sister, on the other hand, nervously rubbed her hands.

Hiding his offense, Alastor piled into your father’s laughter, “It was actually my idea.”

“Well, it’s not very clever!” your father responded, increasing his laugh.

Alastor did the same and leaned in closer, “Fuck you.”

“Alastor!” you yelled at him in shock and disbelief over his rude words and took him by his arm, dragging him to the side while your sister shoved your father into the other direction.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” you scolded him with a lowered voice to keep your conversation as private as possible. He’d never been someone who cussed so why did he have to do this now of all times?

“He started it,” Alastor explained, keeping his face turned in the other direction to avoid eye contact.

You breathed in sharply, anger boiling within you as you hissed, “I don’t care about who did what. You were supposed to make a good impression!”

“Excuse me, dear, but it seems that your father and I don’t get along. And this seems to be based on mutuality. I don’t know if you noticed this but he already looked at me disapprovingly before we even exchanged words.”

Oh, you did notice this. But you didn’t care because in this moment it was important for both of them to at least pretend to tolerate each other. You couldn’t afford your father and your finacé to already disembowel each other during their first encounter. Important aspects of your shared future relied on their correlation. And… Was Alastor even listening to you?!

You snatched his cane out of his hands and spinned it around.

Alastor finally turned to look at you, his teeth gritted and his eyebrows pushed together. His gaze became softer as he eyed your expression but he still seemed tense.

“You’ll put this right, Alastor. Or otherwise…” You don’t finish your sentence and instead poke the pointy end of his cane between his ribs.

“Fine,” he growled and took his cane back.

You both turned around and saw Charlie pushing your father in your direction, her arm resting on his shoulder while she talked to him insistently with a calm but worried voice, “Without Alastor, we wouldn’t have been able to pretty it up this much!”

Alastor took a step closer, tapping his fingertips on his cane. “Charlie has a very unique vision,” he started and stood next to her, forcing himself to sound as honest and courteous as possible, “I am happy to fulfill her bizarre requests.”

“Thank you, Alastor”, your sister responded, ignoring your frowning father who looked anything but amused.

Alastor continued, “Quite an impressive young lady. We’re all very proud of her.” He wrapped his arm around her shoulder and Charlie gave him a genuine smile before he let go and turned towards you. “And her sister, Y/N, well…” He laid his red eyes on you with a genuine and almost loving smile and rested his hand on your shoulder, squeezing it slightly in an almost unnoticeable but reassuring manner. “She’s an extraordinary being. Introduced me to this very special place so we can give her sister all the support and assistance she needs.”

You smiled at him, grateful that he followed your request to at least try to make things right.

Your father growled and narrowed his eyes as he noticed the way Alastor looked at you, the demon’s hand on your shoulder triggering his already strained nerves. He snatched his head in the other direction to face your sister. “Charlie… Why don’t you introduce me to your other friends?”

“Oh, yes, of course!” she called out and walked up to the other residents. “This is Vaggie. She’s my girlfriend!” She pulled Vaggie with her who shyly raised her hand in a reserved greeting gesture.

Your father laughed and his mood immediately switched from annoyance to excitement. “Oh my golly! You like girls? So do I! We have so much in common!” He pulled Vaggie in a rushed embrace, letting her go as fast as he got close to her. “She’s beautiful!”

You felt your heart sink in your chest at your father’s opposite reaction to your sister’s partner and a strike of anxiety hit you at the thought of telling him the truth about you and Alastor. It wasn’t only the fact you both were a couple that made you this insecure but the fact that you were even engaged to him.

Alastor seemed to sense your inner tension and squeezed your shoulder again, now with more pressure and you were grateful for him that he hadn’t removed his hand yet. His closeness was exactly what you needed at this moment. You moved a bit closer to him, hoping that you both didn't appear too close in the other eyes, and breathed in his scent while your thoughts raced in your head. You reviewed the events again and realized that Alastor was right. You had little reason to be so angry (only) at him because your father didn’t really behave either from the first second. Hopefully you could somehow dismiss this conflict as a matter of miscommunication between them.

You watched your sister introduce your father to the other residents which he seemed to get along with very well – contrary to your finacé who seemed to be the only one he immediately despised.

You sighed and that’s when your father turned around to face the lobby. With a determined expression he raised his voice so everybody could hear him, “Well, it looks like I could give you some help. With a little bit of alakazam,” he wiggled his fingers, indicating a magic spell, “we could turn this place into something much more appealing! I mean, who needs a busboy now that you got the chef?” He faced Alastor with narrowed eyes and poked his elbow teasingly into Charlie’s side.

You could feel Alastor’s grip on your shoulder tightening. His smile turned into a strained grin as he obviously thought about saying something. You begged that he kept his mouth shut to not reinforce their conflict…

“Well, Charlie…” your father continued before Alastor could even say something, “I’m not almighty but I could give you a lot. Almost anything, if you ask for it. You know, normally, I’d charge a lot for my help but since you’re my daughter and I love you with all my heart, it’s a matter of course I do it for free. Unlike that sketchy prick who probably has some devious intentions in his mind.” He raised his cane and pointed at Alastor.

Charlie blinked a few times and pressed a nervous and drawled ‘Thank you…’ through her uncomfortable smile. It was obvious that she didn’t approve of your father’s comment but she also didn’t want to increase the drama by intervening.

Alastor took his hand off your shoulder and leaned on his cane. “At least I’ve been here from the start,” he commented and eyed his claws with a hint of arrogance.

You breathed in sharply but tried your best to keep your patience up as Alastor continued his monologue. “Let's not forget that I’ve always been faithful to you, Charlie. I support you, care for you and this hotel, and execute whatever you demand”, he exclaimed with such confidence that it was almost awkward listening to him.

“That’s true,” your sister responded carefully with a grateful smile on her face and your father rolled his eyes. “You know, dad, Alastor does a lot for the hotel and its residents.”

“No matter his capabilities, because sometimes, Charlie, there’s no substitute for pure angelic power, which – not to forget – also happens to be your blood!”

“Dad…” Charlie sighed and you growled, the anger cooking inside of you.

“Sadly, there are times a birth parent is a dud,” Alastor interfered again, his grin still as prominent as always but his eyes narrowed, darting invisible arrows at Lucifer. He straightens his back to appear even taller in comparison to your father, the arrogance undeniable in his expression. “Seems like the family you chose is better.”

“You’re such a loser!” your dad spat out.

“And yet here you are proving me right with every word you speak,” Alastor snatched back.

“You know nothing, you prick!”

“Well, unlike you, I don’t abandon my responsibilities!”

“How do you dare question my commitment?”

“At least I care for your daughters.”

“Oh you tacky little piece of–!”

You jumped between them. “Shut the fuck up! Both of you!”

you yelled as your anger burst through the walls you’ve tried to maintain hold of. Your voice cracked with the strain of suppressed fury and your appearance began to morph into a much more demonic form as pointy horns grew out of your head and your eyes turned a gleaming bloody red. “I’m sick of you bickering like children, you fucking attention whores! Is this how you get your kicks, by not being able to keep your mouths shut over such trivial nonsense? Do you even realize how goddamn irritating it is for the rest of us to be subjected to your constant squabbling? You know each other for ten minutes and already start pushing each other to the limits!”

“Y/N–,” Alastor tried to interrupt you but you stretched out your arm, pushing him away from you.

“No, Alastor, back the fuck off!” you scream, looking up in his red eyes and poking his chest angrily with your index finger. “Everytime I tell you to keep your shit together and make a good impression, you make things worse!”

Your head snatches around and you now stare at your father with the same fury in your eyes. “And you, dad, stop your irresponsible nonsense and don’t taunt him as if he were a punching bag for your own insecurities!” Now you poke at your father’s chest, towering over him with floating hair and fire in your eyes. “Because Alastor’s right! Where have you been all the time? Instead of helping us and supporting Charlie in her project, you didn't even contact us! Especially not me! The last time I heard from you was over a year ago! And now you come here, finally ready to help your daughters, and the moment you arrive you start lashing out at my fiancé to deflect from your own mistakes because you can't stand the fact that he was there for us while you preferred to wallow yourself in your depression!”

Silence fell over the room when you finished your rant, all eyes locked on you in shock and disbelief over your courage to attack the Radio Demon and the King of Hell himself in such a manner. Your heart raced, pumped your blood through your veins with such a pressure that you felt your whole body pulsating under your tension as relief washed over you.

“Y–,” your dad tried to say, stuttering and completely overwhelmed by your confrontation and what you just revealed to him. “You–, Your… fiancé?” He ripped his eyes open, his mouth agape in disbelief.

You breathed in heavily and closed your eyes for a brief moment, realizing what you just revealed, before you opened them again and responded to his question with a much calmer but also weak and tired voice, “Yes, dad. Alastor is my fiancé.”

“What the fuck?” you could hear Angel exclaim in the background but ignored him.

“Well…” your father hesitated. He struggled hard to find the right words and put his hand over his mouth, rubbing his skin like a stress ball. “Well, I’m… Wow…”

Alastor approached you, his steps echoing from the high walls in the silent room and he put his hand on your shoulder. Feeling his touch through your blouse, caused a jolt of electricity to rush through your body. It erased the rest of your anger and your appearance returned to your normal form. Alastor’s presence calmed you down to an almost relaxed state. You felt the need to lean on him but resisted because everything that just happened was already enough – for you, for your father, your fiancé and all the other residents who were forced to witness this nerve-wrecking spectacle.

You watched your father’s gaze roam over Alastor’s presence, from his head to his toes and from his toes back to his head.

“I–, I don’t know what to say… Uh… I–... I’m speechless,” he stuttered, unable to look away from the man that stood next to you and encouraged you with a little but meaningful gesture and with who you wanted to spend the rest of eternity with. “I–, excuse me. I need some time to think.”

Your father indicated to turn around and leave as your sister grabbed him by his arm, holding him back. “Would you like me to give you a tour around the hotel?” she asked him reassuringly in hope he would agree, what he then did.

“Yes. Please.”

Your sister gave you an encouraging look before she turned around and guided your father towards the stairs, Vaggie following right after to accompany them.

Now, you and Alastor were alone with Angel Dust, Sir Pentious, Husk and Niffty. All of them stared at you, speechless. Especially Husk appeared a bit traumatized by your accidental announcement.

“So… Mister fancy-talk-creepy-voice managed to slide into the royal family?” Angel asked you with interest but you raised your hand, interrupting him.

“Stop it, Angel.”

The spider demon pressed his lips together in a thin line and hummed.

You turned towards Alastor. “Are you mad?” you asked him, afraid that you damaged his trust by revealing your biggest secret you had sworn to keep.

Alastor leaned his head down sideways to look you in the eyes. His grin was replaced by a genuine smile as his red eyes surveyed your expression. “It’s alright, my dear.”

He looked over to the other residents, walking a few steps closer to them and cocked his head in an unnatural and unnerving way. His antlers grew in size with pointy ends while his eyes changed to a black color with red, moving radio dials as irises. “If you dare say a single word about mine and Y/N’s relationship outside of the hotel, I will tear you apart and hang your guts as flags on the hotel roof so everybody will be able to see what happens if you dare gossip about the radio demon and his lady.”

*****

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ceoofglytchell · 2 months ago

Text

Butterfly

Summary: That fateful night on Driftmark Aegon has made a promise to you, one that he has even once never forgotten, while you were gone. However now six years later you return to him and- gods be good- he is going to make that promise a reality and he most certainly won't let you leave him another time.

Pairing: Aegon II Targaryen x Strong!Niece!Reader

Word count: 4214 words

Warnings: incest, Reader is described of having Strong like features, Reader is Rhaenyra's and Harwin's second child, fluff, angst, longing, thoughts of major dubcon (it’s only a thought and does not really happen), kinda miscommunication, hurt/comfort, allusions to smut, aegon being miserable, no mention of Y/N

Notes: I was not feeling good last week, but I am back now with this piece here, but I’m not sure if it’s good. But, as always, feedback and criticism is always appreciated and please remember that english is not my native language. Enjoy 💛

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"I promise that one day I will marry you."

Never once in your life have you forgotten the promise that your uncle Aegon had given you six years ago on the shores of Driftmark. Yes, he was drunk, and yes, he knew that your families would never let a union between the two of you come to be, but a boy could dream. At least that was how he had justified the vow later on when you had to separate the following morning.

You have always wished that your beloved uncle would fulfill his very promise one day, but unfortunately the chance got slimmer and slimmer the more years passed and the more protective your mother has gotten over you, because as Rhaenyra's first and only daughter nothing was easy.

You were born with brown curls and hazel eyes like your brothers, making the sin your mother had committed all the more obvious to anyone else, a walking reminder of her carelessness. However you were born much smaller in comparison to your brothers and even as you grew you remained petite and delicately looking, which caused Rhaenyra to fuss over you like a mother hen constantly, as if she feared you to be a porcelain doll that could shatter into a million pieces with just a touch. She certainly treated you this way.

Aegon however has always seen the watchful eyes and silent warning glances of his half-sister to be more of a challenge than an actual prohibition.

The prince had always been enamored with you, his little niece, but he has always bottled up all his hidden feelings for you within himself so it was only natural that one time where he had swallowed down cup after cup of dornish wine and you sat by him and held his hand after he had been scolded by his grandsire, the words spilled out of his mouth like a river.

He had barely been able to remember it the next morning, but as he saw the flush on your cheeks when he stood before you to say his goodbyes, he knew that you knew. It was either a curse or a blessing, but even as he had watched you leave with your mother, brothers, and a few of the servants, he had known that he would see you again one day and if he did, he would take you as his wife.

You were not sure what you had imagined when you and your family returned to King’s Landing after so many years to assure yourselves that Lucery's claim to the island of Driftmark was defined and would not be contested, but no matter how easy this task seemed to be on the first look, you quickly learned that this was not the case. Vaemond Velaryon and your great-aunt Rhaenys had also come.

However, their presence brought you less out of the concept than to see Aemond beating Ser Criston during sparring on the courtyard as if the man was nothing but a normal knight and not a loyal and trusted member of the King’s Guard. His cold look, when he had seen you and your brothers, made a shiver run down your back and a spark of fear set its roots within yourself, even if you had nothing to do with the tragic loss of his eye.

On that dark night you were with Aegon when it had happened. The older prince had drunken too many cups of wine and stumbled down the stairs that led down to the beach and hit his head. You had sat with him afterwards and watched over him, while he had clung to you as if you were the very last thing that kept him rooted to this world and that kept him from loosing himself to the darkness within his heart.

And then he had given you that promise. That one terrible promise that has been on your mind every single day, which had taken a special place in the depths of your heart. He had promised to marry you and you knew that he would do it, if you would get permission, which you doubted, however, because your mother wanted nothing to do with her half-siblings whatsoever.

You were reminded of said promise when you faced him again in the throne room after six long years; He and his family dressed in Hightower green and gold and you with yours in Targaryen red and black. The difference could not be greater and the tension that lay in the hall could be felt by everyone.

You tried to stick to your mother's words, you really did, but over and over again your warm gaze found his and every time you caught him staring right back at you, an unknown glimmer in his amethyst colored eyes, which you neither could nor wanted to explain.

However, things escalated quickly and your mother quickly pulled you out of the throne room by the arm, leaving the headless body of Vaemond Velaryon behind on the cold stone floor, for which your stepfather was responsible, the word 'bastards' echoing in your ears. It was not easy to be confronted with the truth after all these years, which your mother tried to hide so convulsively, although it was obviously in everyone's eyes and the entire realm knew the truth of your parentage.

Your shocked eyes found those from Aegon before you vanished behind the doors and you immediately knew that this was not the last time you would see him that evening- and you were right.

Your maids, who were also some of your closest friends at the same time, were currently dressing you for dinner when it suddenly knocked on the heavy wooden doors to your chambers, which still looked exactly the same before you had been forced to leave back then. Without having allowed him to come inside, Aegon stepped into the privacy of your old chambers, which were illuminated with flickering candles, whereupon the servants stopped tugging uncomfortably on your hair and stepped away from you, bowing their heads as was custom.

"You may leave us," you told the other women, whereupon they all looked at you with a questioning frown.

"But princess-" "Please, I can do it."

Neither you nor the maids knew really whether you meant your hair or the prince who stared at you without having lost a word so far, which was extremely untypical for your uncle. However, the cup of wine in his right hand was familiar and you immediately became painfully aware of how much you had missed him.

The moment the doors fell shut again and you both were alone in the room and actually stood in front of each other for the first time again in six years, a bright grin broke out on his face and he slowly took a few steps to get closer to you. "Welcome home, little butterfly."

You didn't know exactly what it was; the nickname, his voice, which had matured, or the fact that you finally looked at him again after such a long time, but you couldn't help but close the distance between you two and jump right into his arms.

Aegon was surprised for a brief moment, but he immediately returned your gesture and wrapped his arms around you as well and pressed your slender body tightly against his, burying his nose into your long brown curls, which were half put together into a braid, which was not finished, because you had sent your handmaidens out of the room as soon as you had laid your eyes on him.

He could hear how a quiet, content sigh escaped your lips, whereupon he felt himself relax in your embrace and he felt his grip around his golden cup of wine loosen slightly as if you were the sole cure for the addiction he had developed. After all these years and although you both have grown and changed, you still fit perfectly against him like the last piece of a puzzle that had finally found its rightful place.

"You cut your hair," you noticed with an audible smile in your gentle voice and you immediately snuggled closer to him as if the sole thought of being parted from him for a second time was unthinkable for you.

"And you have grown- if only a little."

You hit him playfully against his shoulder and leaned back a little so that you could look him into his lilac eyes, which you noticed no longer held the same glint as they had back then. In addition, deep dark circles under his eyes adorned his handsome face and he had become even paler, which was why you feared that you needed to worry about his health. He also looked very much tired. However, these little details did not change the fact that the man in front of you was as beautiful as he had been back then if not more.

"Still feisty, I see, butterfly."

"You did not forget it," you noticed with an almost melancholic smile on your rosy lips. Ever since you were children and a small white butterfly had landed on your head in the Godswood, which would happen two or three times more over time, he called you by the name of the animal, since you were probably just as fragile and delicate, you mused. At the beginning you did not really enjoy it, but over time you wanted to hear him say it over and over again- now too.

"Of course not. I would never forget you, my darling."

"Stop it." You looked down onto the ground so that he would not see the obvious blush on your cheeks, but he did regardless. As for you, he paid attention to everything, every little detail.

"I did not forget my promise to you either." The prince said and stroked with one hand over the length of your arm, which was covered by a silken red sleeve. Actually, you did not want to wear a red dress to dinner, as it would only illustrate the fronts between the two sides of your families, but your mother insisted on it. You personally have always preferred lighter colors.

"Really? You appeared to be very much... drunk when you gave it to me, Aegon." You carefully replied while you hesitantly grabbed his hand, the contact igniting a feeling of warmth in you, which you had been longing for as well.

"I was drunk, that much is true. However, I always am and I remember very well that I said that I would marry you."

"This was so long ago-" you said with a quick shake of the head, because you knew that time did not change anything about what he felt for you and what you felt for him. A marriage between the two of you would never be agreed to, even if you could not imagine marrying someone other than him. The hatred between the two sides of your family was just too big and your love would not mend the crack again.

"No, I am serious. Be my wife, please. There is no day that I did not think of you and wanted you to be by my side." He reached for your hands and held them firmly in his own as if that alone could convince you to marry him without further ado and preferably that evening right after having had dinner. He would not allow you to get betrothed, because then he would lose the opportunity to have the only person who has ever taken care of him and who has actually listened to what he had to say. If you were not there, he was miserable- the last few years have been proof of it.

On the other hand, you were completely perplexed and overwhelmed with the situation. You wanted him. He was the only one who had never treated you like a fragile doll or a mindless duckling, but just like a girl like any other and you liked that. You did not want to be considered weak by everyone- of all the dragons you rode Silverwing, by the gods, you were not weak. It was bad enough that you were a dragon rider and your mother did not allow you to ride as much as you would have liked.

Unfortunately, the truth was that Rhaenyra and Alicent would never agree to a union between him and you. They would rather die or burn in the seven hells and you wanted to save yourself the pain that would follow if you asked and the two older women would vehemently forbid it even if nothing spoke against it and it would actually serve to strengthen House Targaryen for future generations. Unfortunately, it was more likely that at some point he would marry one of the daughters of Lord Baratheon or his own sister Helaena and that you would have to marry Lord Cregan Stark eventually.

"You don't know me anymore. If you excuse me, my prince, I have to continue preparing myself for dinner now.”

With a jerk you pulled your hands out of his and sat down at your dressing table, trying to ignore him and push him away from you, because you would not be able to allow your feelings for him to bloom now and in the end you would have to spend your life with another. You would not be able to bear it. The prince looked at you with an expression of utter disbelief on his features, until then a flicker of anger crossed his gaze and he stormed out of your chambers without hesitation, the door falling shut so loudly that it made you flinch.

You just wanted to protect him as well as yourself.

Later at dinner you watched Aegon drowning himself in alcohol and staring at his plate without touching the food at all. Aemond, who sat on the other side of the table, stared at your siblings and you at all times, not letting you out of his sight, until it suddenly escalated and a single toast made everyone become aware of how fragile the bond that held your family together actually was.

Shortly afterwards, your mother informed you that you would return to dragonstone the very next morning and you felt right in your decision to have pushed away the man for whom you had deeper feelings for. It was better for both of you. At least that was what you kept telling yourself.

You told that to yourself when you came back to your rooms and found them empty and dark, you told yourself when you sat alone in front of the fireplace and loosened your braids, when you undressed, put on a light nightgown, and you kept repeating it to yourself when you climbed in bed at last and slowly began to fall into a peaceful sleep. You would not be able to bear the pain that would follow if you allowed yourself to actually be with him.

Aegon still felt the taste of dornish wine on his tongue and its effects clouding his senses when he stood in the middle of the night in the darkness of your bedchambers and stared down at your sleeping form in your bed, the moonlight that fell through the windows illuminating your soft features like you were the very image of the Maiden. He was slightly shaky on his feet and he was well aware that he should not be here, but he just could not control himself. Your rejection before dinner and the way you refused to speak a single word to him while you had sat beside each other had robbed him of his last bit of sanity and he just had to know what you felt.

He had a simple plan; slipping inside your rooms unnoticed, tainting your honor and showing his mother the proof of it in the morning, because then she would have to agree to a union just like his half-sister, since you would ruined for any other man. His plan had been so simple, he would just have to tear the blanket right of you, push your nightgown up to your hips and take his pleasure, but when he approached the edge of your bed and saw how peaceful you looked like sleeping, he could not bring himself to do it.

The prince felt a lump forming in his throat, his heart becoming heavy and he could not help but kneel on the floor next to the bed, while he buried his face next to yours in the pillow in the hope that you would not notice the tears of shame burning in his eyes. You should just sleep on and never find out that he was even here. He was a monster for even thinking of ruining you.

He sobbed into your plush pillows, his hands fisting the silken bed sheets tightly when he suddenly felt something stirring beside him on the mattress, but he did not raise his head just yet. He did not want to look you in the eye after what he had originally come for.

"Uncle? What happened?"

Your gentle voice was like a balm for his soul, but he still continued to quietly sob into your pillows. You did not even ask why he was here, but what had happened. Even now you took care of him, although you had wanted to distance yourself from him a few hours ago for a reason that he simply could and would not understand.

"What have I done? Why are you pushing me away from you? What has changed?”

You quickly rubbed the remnants of sleep out of your eyes and you began to caress his back with your small hands, which made a shiver run down his spine and the tears on his wet cheeks slowly started to dry because no new ones fell, at least not right now. Like always, your touch calmed him.

"Why are you here?" You asked him instead of giving him an answer to his previous questions, because you could not tell him the truth. To see how the man you loved cried on the edge of your bed because of something that you had done when you had actually just wished to protect him from that very pain was making your heart shatter into a thousand pieces. You did not want to feel this pain nor did you want him to experience it. What have you done?

"Don't go," he murmured and finally raised his head slightly again to look at you with his reddened, swollen eyes, even if the room was dark and both of you could barely make each other out in the dark.

"Don't leave me a second time, please. Not again... don’t do this to me."

You sighed and sat up in bed, because this was exactly what you had not wanted to happen. His sensitivity was no secret to you and you knew how much you meant to him and how much he meant to you. Your mother had decided that you would return to dragonstone and you could not argue against her decision after what had happened today at dinner. Your house was more fragile than ever and if the others were to find out what you felt for each other, it would be the stone that would set a giant chaos into motion. It would be the end of Haus Targaryen as you knew it.

"Go away, Aegon," you murmured and sat down in such a way that your knees were pressed against your chest and your arms were wrapped around your legs as if you wanted to give yourself a hug to comfort yourself.

“No, please ... darling, don’t," whimpered the older prince and climbed next to you on the soft mattress, desperately searching for your gaze and your closeness. He wanted to pull you into him, love you and never let you go again even for a small second, because you were the only thing in this world that gave him something akin to a glimmer of hope, a light in the deepest darkness of his broken soul.

"Butterfly…"

"Don't call me that!" You suddenly spat at him loudly, which immediately made him wince and made hot tears burn in his eyes once more, threatening to spill over his pale cheeks.

You have never been angry with him before. Never.

"I love you! Don't you see that? I love you so much, but I cannot live with the pain of loving a man that I cannot call my own.”

That was it. The words and the truth were out and he had heard them. His suffering broke your heart, but he deserved to hear these three words from you at least once. You loved him, you truly did, but a miracle would need to happen so that you would be able to live out your love. It was not his fault, nor was it yours, as it was the hatred that has been burning between your mothers for years- a hatred that would probably never vanish.

Aegon was speechless. For a moment he just shook his head in disbelief, which made his white curls fall over his forehead, but it did not prevent him from looking into your beautiful face and seeing in the desperate look in your dark eyes that you were serious. "But I already am yours, am I not?"

"Aegon..." Your shoulders sagged even further down and you pushed your legs even further against your upper body, the sight of it making him miserable, because he did not want to imagine what would have happened had he actually went through with his plan and he would have taken you without your consent and made you his without warning. You would probably have shouted and fought back and he could never have forgiven himself for it and you would never have forgiven him either. No, he was glad that he had not done it.

He carefully approached your trembling shape on the bed and he tenderly wrapped his arms around you and pressed you against him as firmly as he could. Now you started to sob into his shoulder bitterly and he started to slowly rock you back and forth, while he buried his nose into your brown hair like he had done earlier, because your scent always seemed to calm him down, but your hair was also a sign for everyone else that you should not exist and that you, being a bastard, would be monstrous by nature, but he could not care about that in the slightest. You were beautiful on the inside and outside and one day he would prove it to you- perhaps even tonight.

"Marry me?" Back then it was a promise, now it was a serious question and he meant it with every fiber of his body. You were meant to be his wife, even if your love would be a scandal in the eyes of the gods, but he has never been a religious man anyways.

"I can't, uncle, I can't."

Aegon started to place soft and slow kisses on the top of your head. He began his exploration on your hair, then wandered down to your forehead, brushing his lips over your eyebrows, over your cheeks, which were wet from the tears that you shed for him until he reached your own lips, which looked so soft and inviting that he could hardly hold back.

"Marry me." He whispered against your lips and he looked for your gaze to see what was going through your head. Your eyes had always been the mirror to your soul.

His voice, his pleading tone, his warm breath that stroked your face, and the sudden closeness to him was just too much for you.

You do not dare to say it, but a simple, barely noticeable nod on your part was enough and the prince kissed you as if his life depends on it, his hands wandering over every centimeter of your body while he gently pushed you to lay on your back and he hovered over you, not separating his mouth from you for even a split second.

The rest of the night you both drowned in a sea of desire and pleasure, years of wanting and yearning coming to its climax. At some point, his hands had sneaked under the fabric of your nightgown, undressed you, while you had returned the favor at the same time, whereupon he had not lost any time to show you what it would mean to be his wife and you enjoyed every single second of it.

Neither Aegon nor you really listened to the argument that followed the next morning after your maid had told Rhaenyra who she had found laying next to you in your bed and what had to have happened at night based on the red stain on your sheets. Insults got thrown around, voices became louder, but you merely snuggled closer to your lover, who protectively wrapped an arm around your waist and leaned his head to yours while a feeling of happiness flooded him.

You were his now and neither his mother nor yours could ever take you away from him ever again. It was too late for that now.

Love was often said to be the death of duty and Aegon Targaryen would not give a single shit about duty for the rest of his life if it meant he got to forever hold you in his arms like this and love you like you deserved.

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#house of the dragon #hotd #hotd fanfic #aegon ii targaryen #aegon targaryen x reader #aegon targaryen x female reader #aegon ii fanfic #aegon ii x reader #aegon ii x you #aegon ii x y/n #tom glynn carney

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romanoffsbish · 8 months ago

Text

The Understudy

Wanda Maximoff x F!R

“Natasha x F!R”

Natasha Romanoff x Maria Hill

Warnings: Jealousy | Yandere—Attempted Murder (if you squint) | Mutual Pinning (Simping)

Natasha was a charismatic woman—sure, yet you found yourself enraptured by her gorgeous understudy—Wanda. | WC: 6,945

Request: “anything about jealous top!wanda and just having her way with fem reader sounds good to me” | College AU

I am so sorry it took so long @wandagcre 😩

18+ | Minors DNI

Wanda let a harsh breath leave her as she glared up to see as Natasha circled you like a hawk and if not for the sake of her credibility around campus with the faculty she wouldn't have let the other woman grip you by the hips and pull you in. The both of you wore wide grins as Natasha's nose nudged yours, pushing your face to the side as she gently cupped your cheeks, Wanda was rather close to combusting at the intended next move.

——

“Cut!"

The moment your professor called out the command you separated from your cast mate with a softer smile. Yet Wanda's jealousy didn't simmer, relief far away when the redhead still kept your attention on her.

Natasha pulled you back in, but only for a friendly hug.

"I just wanted to say, thanks for trusting me Y/N/N."

"It's easy to do," you giggled and squeezed her tight, then you parted ways and went to collect your bags.

There was a tension in the air as you prepared to leave that you didn't quite understand, so you sought it out. After glancing around the room for a moment you saw the source—Wanda Maximoff, Natasha's understudy with her eyes angrily cast upon the Russian's face.

She's also the unobtainable woman of your dreams, or so you deemed as you'd yet to approach her with more than a bit of shop talk. Normally the brunette would carry the interaction and nine times out of ten it was perfectly pleasant. However, Wanda always seemed standoffish when you weren't alone, which made you think that maybe she didn't want people to see you two as anything more than potential on stage partners.

Oh what a fool you were, because as you hurriedly waltzed out of the auditorium you avoided her stare that had shifted over to you—a longing glance that lingered long after the large oak doors shut behind you.

——

A week had come and gone, the show was not far off and it was coming together nicely. You and Natasha practiced your lines religiously and kept the bond between you both strong for the sake of chemistry and your overall grade as this show would be your final. In return, a beautiful friendship had been forged and you were more than grateful for the expanded circle.

All that stood in your way was the darn kiss, your heart not only yearned for another, but Natasha's had one which only seemed to make you more nervous.

You'd recently met her girlfriend, Maria Hill, when you went to their dorm to go over the script two weeks ago.

It was a bit intimidating, but when she offered you a chocolate chip cookie and help on your homework you knew she was the perfect partner for your new friend.

Natasha dreamed of making it big, and to do that she'd need a partner who understood that intimate scenes were just a part of the job, not a slight against her.

The woman even gave you her blessing last night with a warm smile, "I trust you." That alone had eased most tension you had left for the show; you were ready.

—

Today was the play's opening day, the set pieces were complete and the scenes ran to perfection. Besides the kiss, the both of you only ever got close to sharing a passionate lip-lock for the sake of show business. It was however not too necessary until today to share it.

When you walked onto stage you skipped over to the redhead who was casually reading out of a textbook.

"Hey Tasha," you greeted, the redhead peered up as she mindlessly closed the book to see your smile. It was adorable how nervous you were honestly, the kiss was only a blip in the play—lasting less than ten seconds.

This is a PG-13 university production after all.

"Hey honey," she greeted, tone sweet as can be in an attempt to ease your tense shoulders and it worked.

For the most part anyways. "A-are you ready?"

Natasha smiled, "I am," then sighed, "but, are you?"

You nodded unconvincingly and she stood to her feet so that she could approach you, her hand cupped your cheek as she stared into your eyes. "Follow my lead."

A nervous smile was all you offered the woman who moved in even closer, her warm breath on your cheek felt rather comforting. "We don't even have to kiss, all we have to do is make the audience believe it happens."

"I don't want to disappoint people," you muttered with a nervous conviction and the redhead chuckled softly. "No one will leave knowing, I'm an amazing actress."

You giggled and Natasha beamed knowing that she'd at least calmed a bit of your nerves. To the both of you it was obvious that her touch was meant to make you ease into the concept of the intimacy, but to onlookers it would almost present as an act of personal affection.

The redhead waited for you to make a move, but it was not something you had time for as you quickly realized that the prop above your heads was teetering in the air.

Wanda had been stood behind the red draped curtain fuming, her hand reflexively wrapped around the string that suspended the hefty prop above Nat's head. There was no conscious intent when she yanked down, it was purely reflexive as she watched you two practice.

It was all you could do to yank the woman out of the line of impact before the piece shattered on the stage.

"Holy shit Nat," you squealed, "that was a close call!"

"Yeah," the redhead hardly acknowledged you, eyes too focused in on the blur of familiar black and red hues weaving between the curtains. "Are you okay Nat?"

No, she most definitely was not, but she'd pretend.

The redhead internally rolled her eyes, but pressed on as if the freak accident wasn't premeditated. To your face at least, because not even ten minutes later—after she convinced you all was well did she go find the perp.

"Maximoff," she growled as she found the woman in her usual spot, "I am not an oblivious idiot like Y/N."

Natasha cringed at her own words, it wasn't right to diss you but to be fair, she just nearly lost her head.

"I haven't a clue what you are going on about," she chirped bitterly, not even remotely covering her big feelings. "How unkind you are to poor Y/N though."

"Y/N and I have a fine working relationship," she immediately set the woman straight, "She's a sweet person and if you stopped being so broody maybe you could be the one she hangs out with after practices."

"I'm just the understudy," she reminded Natasha, who rolled her eyes in frustration at her petty behavior.

"You need to let it go Wanda," she groaned, "I am the theater major, you are only taking this for an elective."

Wanda stood and whisper shouted, "I want it more!"

"No," Natasha corrected as she stepped to her, a clear sign she wasn't afraid of the brunette with the raging anger problems. "You want Y/N more, which is 100% by the way because all she is to me is a friend!"

"I see the way you look at her," Wanda sneered.

"That's because it is my job, Wanda," Natasha scoffed in genuine offense before adding, "I have Maria."

Wanda glared inquisitively, "Who the hell is Maria?"

"My girlfriend since freshman year of high school."

"Oh."

Natasha chuckled agitatedly, "Yeah, so if you could refrain from trying to kill me again I'd appreciate it very much. I've planned to live a long life with her."

"I," Wanda was honestly stunned into silence. "It was an accident—but originally, I wasn't really sorry."

"At least you're honest," Natasha chuckled amusedly. "Don't confuse this moment Maximoff," the redhead continued, "I might not be a threat but you know as well as I do that Y/N is a catch—don't drag your feet."

"I know, but I can't talk to her about anything other than this stupid class," Wanda admitted in lieu of her masked pride faltering. "She's just so pretty, and soft, it's like I lose the ability to form thoughts around her."

"Pretty things are meant to be taken and cherished," the Russian teased, smile fond as she remembered what it's like to fall in love for the first time; Natasha wanted that for you too. "Trust me Wanda, Y/N is easy to talk to and I hypothesize she would be thrilled if you did, maybe try your luck tonight at the after party."

Natasha playfully acted out taking a shot as she winked at the up until now, sapphic disaster, then she swiftly left the room to let her ponder. When she returned to the stage she found you yelling at the stagehands. She shook her head in amusement then made her way over to save the poor students from your misguided wrath...

—

When you calmed down you found yourself hidden away in your dressing room staring at your reflection. There was this unspoken tension in the air once again and it made you feel queasy. It was hard for you to tell if it was first night jitters or something else entirely.

Deep down you knew it was an unwarranted sadness, one that you associated with the fact that the course would be over after this weekends line up of shows and you'd yet to find the courage to truly speak to Wanda.

"Hey, did you understand the acting prompt," and "That was a weird film to show a class full of women," were not effective ways to speak with your crush.

You knew that, but every time you built up the courage to ask her if she wanted to hang out you remembered the way she looked at you whenever you were around others. A loud sigh left you at the painful reminder that nearly made you miss the faint knock at your door.

"Come in," you meekly called out as you stood up to face whomever it was. Wanda quietly closed your door and walked into the room with a forced confidence.

"Oh, hey Wanda," you chuckled nervously, "Is Nat ok?"

You weren't sure why you asked that in greeting, but it's also not rocket science since she's her understudy. The question wasn't meant to offend either but it did as Wanda considered the possibility that she didn't have a chance with you, but then you gave her a soft smile and she remembered why she was here in the first place.

"She's fine," she politely replied, then she took a step closer and wordlessly returned your smile. You tilted your head slightly and she understood. "I just wanted to come by and wish you luck, though we both know you aren't going to need it. You're a rockstar onstage."

Wanda found amusement in the way your eyes avoided looking into her own momentarily. Once you finally found the courage to look into hers your smile had softened, which had the same effect on her heart.

"Th-thanks Wanda," you stuttered and so she got the confirmation that Natasha basically gave her earlier without exactly saying it. You liked her just the same, something she caught as your eyes fell to her lips, it was brief but obvious enough to fill her with glee.

The woman giggled and leaned forward to place a seemingly friendly kiss, to you, on your cheek. "Break a leg out there sweetheart, I'll see you later at the party."

As soon as she left the room you fell back into your chair with a wide grin and giggled, a hand on the cheek where you could still feel a damp warmth from her lips.

The nerves in your body had all but vanished, so when you were called to the stage an hour later you strutted onto the platform with confidence and it showed in the way you acted every scene to perfection. Even the kiss.

Natasha and you shared a sweet kiss, one that you let her lead as she had the natural acting chops. It was honestly terrible since all you could imagine as her lips moved against yours was what Wanda's would be like.

Your friend's lips tasted like cherry chapstick with faint hints of nicotine that you planned to admonish her for later on after the show. There was perceivable heat to it but the truth was it was void of any genuine passion.

When the two of you parted there was a sweet smile on your lips to mirror the sentiment of your characters, and it only grew wider when you saw Wanda watching. There was something special about the way she looked at you, with a tight smile but a warmth still remained.

For the first time this whole semester you felt hopeful.

—

At the party you were the focus of everyone's attention, loud cheers and genuine accolades met you at every corner in partner with Natasha's. The redhead took it all with a wide smile and thanks, but you however did not have the courage to be so proud. Your friend did her best to take the attention, seeing you look so shy.

When the chance to break away presented itself you took it, heading to the kitchen where you found an array of substances. Just as you reached out for a packed joint you felt a large, soft hand on yours.

"Oh," you chuckled awkwardly, "you can have it."

"We could share," a raspy voice proposed, her hand fell to your hip without request and you slightly stiffened. "You were amazing tonight Y/N, so let's celebrate."

The woman's words made you feel unhappily queasy. "I-I, um," you began to stutter, unsure how to tell this stranger that you wanted to celebrate with another.

"My room is upstairs," she cluelessly teased, as if your stance alone wasn't uncomfortable. "Move on Santos."

Wanda internally beamed when she saw you turn to her with a beyond grateful gaze, the shift breaking you free from the strangers hold and subconsciously closer to her. The horny blonde however wasn't open to being cockblocked so she turned as well and moved closer until their chests brushed. "Last I checked I don't take orders from you, Maxipad, so how about you move on."

Wanda's head tilted dangerously and you felt a flutter of joy in your chest, as well as desire between your legs. The woman caught sight of your thighs clamping and smirked triumphantly, "How about we ask Y/N?"

Your eyes widened, but your lips obediently opened as Wanda seemed to not shy away from you in public.

"What's your name?" The blonde deflated, "Raya."

"It's nice to meet you Raya," you lied with a friendly smile, "But I promised to meet Wanda at the party."

"Well, you heard her," Wanda boasted, her hand reached out and took the blunt from your fingers and smugly handed it over to the blonde in obvious pity.

The moment Raya departed you felt a ringed hand in yours, and you latched on eagerly, letting her guide you through the crowd and up the stairs to an empty room.

As if the universe deemed your dreams worth reality you felt her hands grip your hips and lips catch yours. Wanda decided since talking wasn't her strong suit that she'd start by giving into her urges first. The moment was nothing but carnal, her bare knee slid between your thighs and pressed against your core.

With elegance in her every movement she guided you over to the bed and pressed into you deeper, your thinly veiled pussy rubbed against her skin and you mewled so harshly your swollen lips had to separate.

"Wan-," the redhead shushed you with a gentle peck of her lips that reassured your nervous heart. Alongside her eyes that were full of a warmth that told you this wasn't going to be a once off itch to scratch. "Mommy needs you to stop thinking detka, let me help you."

Amusement tickled in Wanda's throat at the pliant nod you gave, adoration in her heart as your eyes glazed over and body melted further into the mattress. The glare in her eyes reminded you to speak, "please."

The permission left your lips in a breathless whine and so the redheads hands slid beneath your dress that she apparently already bunched at your hips, the cold of her fingers as they tauntingly trailed over your skin made you gasp. "I've been waiting for you to say it," she interrupted your moment of shock with words that brought an adorable pout to your lips. Wanda chuckled as she watched the curiosity fade beneath the surface of your lust as her thumbs brushed over your nipples.

It was embarrassing the way she reduced you into a wordless mess, her knee a contributing factor until she abruptly pulled it away. Viridescent eyes that were reminiscent of obsidian stones, in their active state of lust, stared down at you with a warning not to whine. Wanda beamed at your understanding and rewarded you with her lips back on yours for a fleeting moment.

A sloppy kiss to your jaw, hands roaming over your body, a goddess straddling your waist in a skirt that was much too short for her intentions for tonight to have been anything but what it already was; sinful.

You were somehow expected to remain cognizant, it was a ludicrous notion, so you didn't, all you could do was move just as she asked of you until you were moaning beneath her as her core brushed over yours.

The motion was repeated, a shiver ran down your spine at the sound of her pleasure that loudly followed up yours, it was a sound you never wanted to lose. Her movements picked up, a bare pussy against a covered one and you wanted to scream at the unfair advantage she had over you as her moans overshadowed yours.

Wanda admired your innate understanding to not touch without permission, the way you kept your fidgeting hands at the top of the mattress made her decide to reward you with even more stimulation. Especially since it was mostly her feeling pleasure as she'd yet to remove an article of clothing from you. So in a blur of erratic movements you found yourself in a more exposed state, cold air brushed over your sweaty body as your dress was haphazardly tossed aside. "Oh," Wanda hummed, "so much prettier than I dreamed."

Dreamed. The erratic beating of your heart against your ribcage actually lessened as you heard her admit to having thought about you like this before, her words from before began to make sense now too. Suddenly you were closer to the edge, a bright smile adorned your face fleetingly as you felt the delicious coiling of pleasure in your abdomen. Only to be made better as Wanda's plump lips wrapped around your nipple.

A loud cry left you when the fabric of your panties delicately stimulated your clit, "mommy please." The honorific left your lips easily, it clearly wasn't a trained response to her prior claim to it, but a natural reaction. Wanda bit into the plush flesh of your breast, arousal clear as you felt it seeping into your drenched panties.

Wanda rasped, "Wanna cum with mommy?" The smirk she wore went unnoticed by you, with the crossed eyes and agape mouth that muttered out a strangled, 'yes' as she peered up from your heaving chest. If she was possessive before it wasn't noticeable to you, but all the little moments—like the glares she sent Nat's way, now made sense as she spoke. "Tell me who you belong to," she requested this with a bite to her tone that matched the darkness in her eyes. Her teeth scraped up from the sensitive skin between your breasts to your throat.

There was no hesitation in you to reply, "mommy."

Wanda sped up her hips and started to suck harshly on nearly every inch of skin she could, intent obvious as she set out to prove your words correct. "Let go detka," she purred before her teeth sunk into your shoulder, her determined hips stuttered, the both of you writhed in tandem and the brunette pressed into you harder.

While you gasped for air the Sokovian smiled, her own breathing labored but not nearly as bad as yours. A sense of accomplishment washed over her, remaining for a sweet moment before she craved more of you. You blearily whimpered at the insinuation of her lips as they moved down your tense body, harsh love bites and soft kisses left behind—usually one after the other.

Her ministrations more than enough to have you squirming in anticipation for what you hoped was coming next. Wanda's lips pressed to your hips, then upturned cockily as they impatiently bucked of their own volition, her teeth once again scraped over your soft skin, this time over your pelvis before they had a hold of your panties so she could slowly pull them off.

Wanda was about half way down your legs before she just couldn't hold herself back anymore, the smell of you was far too enticing, so she stopped abruptly and rushed upwards with her tongue out. A lewd moan left your lips as she hummed in satisfaction, tongue vicious as it continued to lick at your sensitive, swollen pussy.

For a brief second you could only feel the warmth of her breath as she pulled away just to really breathe you in, her nose affectionately nuzzled against your clit as she inhaled and kissed your sloppy folds that tingled with need. "Oh my," she chuckled, "you're too divine."

Wanda was impossibly lost in you, initially she was going to tease you further, but then she couldn't stop. Her tongue was a beast as it lavished your intimacy just to prolong the taste of your essence on her buds. The way your slick settled against her plumped upper lip was a comforting promise that you'd linger on her face in the morning. Wanda felt like a fucking pervert with the way her mind ran wild with depraved things that would surely require a deeper conversation first.

If you'd let her, she would devour you whole, much like she was doing now. You felt like she'd split you open, her thumbs dug into the soft flesh of your ass cheeks to spread your pussy just a little bit wider and a hum of appreciation followed as you dripped down her chin.

There was no stop to her madness until you broke the silent rule, allowing your hand to drop down and slip between the messy strands of her hair. It was instinct, and so it wasn't admonished right away, the woman actually loved the way that you both pushed her away and pulled her even closer when she pulled your clit between her lips as two fingers entered you and curled.

The sound of you spilling out and onto some random persons sheets caught your attention just as it did hers. Wanda marveled at the sight of your aromatic arousal that coated her fingers, palm, and dripped from her wrist, meanwhile you were shyly covering your face.

Wanda chuckled, "look at mommy detka, it's okay," her fingers gently tugged at your wrists and you peered up to find her slick, grinning face hovering above yours. "These are my sheets," the brunette added, then she chuckled as your eyes widened comically, you didn't know how she knew but you didn't care much as you had other things on your mind, like the sex you desperately wanted more of and, "you're in a sorority?"

The woman took no offense to the question, the bias of pink wearing, former cheerleading stars being the only ones to join the rush life was common. Most of the girls in the sisterhood she claimed didn't exactly look like Wanda, with her dark makeup, edgy clothes and lower arm sleeve tats, she couldn't really question the shock.

The conversation however was boring, the reason why being that her mom wanted her daughter to follow in her Delta footsteps and so the brunette did, because her parents sacrificed a lot to come here as teens. It was the least she could do, and even less interesting for her to reminisce over so she simply brushed by it as her fingers distracted you by collecting your slick.

"Such a loud, pretty thing you are," she teased as you gasped, her lithe fingers having swirled over your clit before they lifted to her already glistening lips, "I bet I'll have you moaning even louder, like a bitch in heat, with my cock pounding into your tight, needy hole."

Wanda admired the lust fueled darkness that swirled in your otherwise soft eyes. "Would you want that?"

"Of course," you blurted without shame, a smile of reassurance offered that led her right off of the bed.

When the brunette returned from her closet she was surprised to see you sat up, patiently waiting and keeping an eye out for her return. No words were spoken as you saw her skirt fall, eyes completely focused in on her glistening pussy that dripped slick down her gorgeous, muscular thighs. A chuckle pulled you from your thoughts, you slowly lifted your gaze and eyed your almost screen partner with a pout.

"If you're good," she began as she made her way to the foot of the bed, making a show as her voice dropped and her body slowly crawled toward you, "I'll let you get a taste." Wanda adored the way your eyes lit up, but she couldn't help but to tease you as her body pressed into yours. "Well, unless I fuck you too dumb."

"I w-want to," you admitted shyly, "to t-taste you."

"I know," she didn't spare you the embarrassment whatsoever as her thumb brushed over your chin, spreading the drool that was drying. "It's on your face."

The wink that followed made you tremble beneath her in a perfect display of desperation, just as she wanted. A devious smirk followed the pop of her thumb as she released it from her mouth; ironically your mouth ran dry. Wanda was about to ruin you in the best ways.

However, everything had happened so quickly up to now that she felt the urge to slowdown, in need of clarity, "Is this what you want? If I fill you with my cock that means you're mine now Y/N. Mine to fuck, cherish and if you'll let me, to fully fall in love with."

Unbridled lust still coursed through both of your veins, it was clear you wanted her to get moving by the way your hips twitched, but the soft tremble of your lip softened her into kissing you gently to ease the stress. Wanda saw the questions in your mind, and she'd answer them all, but for now she'd fuck them quiet.

Wanda had bought this strap just for you, actually. It was crimson red like her signature lipstick, thick like you'd never seen, and had a cum reservoir that she knew you'd love even if she'd never had the chance to ask you beforehand. The brunette could tell just by looking at you that you'd be a slut for a good filling.

"So," she prompted once she decided to spare your lungs from the fire burning inside. You nodded your head aggressively, words hard but doable when she pursed her lips; waiting. "Please, fuck me mommy."

"Gladly," she purred, rubbing the length of her strap against your slit to collect arousal as she peered into your eyes with a determined, possessive expression. Your hands reflexively curled and you felt emboldened the longer you held her gaze with an attempt to match the intensity of her, but you were once again nervous.

"C-can I touch?" Wanda nodded, offering you an encouraging smile as you timidly reached out to feel her up over her shirt, the tips of your fingers brushed over exposed skin and you appreciated how soft it was. Then you grew confident, fingers fisted at the collar of her shirt and tugged. "mommy, please take it off."

"I see even when impatient that my girl has manners," she chuckled softly at the sight of your beaming eyes, then she tossed her shirt across the room and leaned down to passionately press her lips to yours. Her body firmly pressed into yours, the brunette swallowed your mewl as her strap slipped into your hole just to parrot you as your once timid hands firmly groped her chest.

Once she got a grip of her thoughts she chuckled softly, sending a shiver through you as her lips had begun to trail down your jaw. "You like mommy's tits, hm?"

"I love them," you admitted with pure, genuine intent, hands continuing to knead at the flesh to distract yourself from the burning pain as she harshly worked to mark your skin in a slow, determined fashion. Then you continued softly, "I love everything about you," and she melted into the moment more, the teasing she had planned for you came to a stop as she filled you.

Wanda's hands slid beneath your arched back and pulled your front flush to hers, keeping your body as close to hers as she could while shallowly thrusting into your slippery cunt between your ragged breaths. Her lips gently brushed over the skin beneath your ear and she felt the way your body trembled, and reveled in the way you moaned so breathily when she sucked.

"You took me in so well," she purred, aware as your spine began to curve downward that the pleasure had simmered some, so she settled you back down and let her strap naturally slide from your cunt, leaving only the tip as she gazed into your needy eyes. Then her hips snapped and she grunted, "just like I thought."

No reply fell from your lips, at least not in the form of words as she'd set a ruthless pace that only left space for you to moan mindlessly as she harshly rutted her hips into yours. Waves of pleasure rolled through your body, ending with your eyes as a harsh thumb swirled against your clit, her other hand gripped your hip even harder as your bodies sinfully moved in tandem. The chemistry was palpable in the air that reeked of sex and stale smoke that seeped beneath the dorm door.

Which only made it that much harder to breathe as you gasped so pitifully for air, the sensation overwhelmed you into a place of pleasurable uncertainty. The strap was a completely new experience for you, every toy you'd ever used was sleek but this one was outlined in thick, hyperrealistic veins that dug into your walls.

"Oh," a particularly harsh thrust and you were back to arching your back, and crying out, "feels so good." Your sweaty front briefly brushed against hers before your back returned to the mattress where its sole role was to move against the sheets as Wanda rutted harshly.

"You close honey?" Wanda knew already, she could feel the resistance as your walls squeezed around the toy, and even attempted to push it back out. What she truly wanted was to see where you were at mentally. You nodded weakly, mind too foggy to reply and she felt elated by your state. "Mommy is too, cum with me."

The rapid addition of her calloused thumb against your unhooded clit threw you over the edge alongside the brunette who had the gruff hilt to thank for hers. To watch your eyes grow hazier as they crossed once you got lost in pleasure stimulated her own climax too. Just hearing you moan had her teetering on the edge; Wanda was certain she didn't even need the friction...

Wanda began to lay gentle kisses to your warm skin as her thrusts continued, this time so slow you could feel every ridge dragging and subsequently shivered. You whimpered, "no more," hands weak, albeit firm as they pressed into the brunette who chuckled softly, "come on detka, you can do it, just one more for mommy."

"One," you warily agreed, and the brunette beamed, she paused her hips just to sprinkle some kisses onto your face in thanks. Her heart warmed as you giggled and her lips shifted closer to yours, eyes locked now that she was hovering directly. You both felt as your walls trembled around her strap, she smirked as your eyes closed in an attempt to calm your mind down.

"Open," she commanded and you reluctantly did, lips naturally pouting as you were forced to look into her intense eyes full of a love you saw already existed well before you two gave into this steadily building tension. It was a bit disconcerting but in a self-deprecating way, not in a grab your belongings and flee the state kind.

It was surely curious, but truthfully it was too hard to process much of anything with how her hips shallowly moved, they picked up the pace ever so slightly but Wanda wanted this orgasm to be more intimate, she wanted to foster in you the connection she's found.

Her intense gaze never wavered, and you never closed your eyes—maintaining the connection even if it felt like you were going to combust under it. Wanda's lips were parted in a half smirk as she took note of every little change in your reaction to the slowed down pace.

Before, you were moaning unabashedly and now you were panting and whimpering. The fingers that just left crescent marks in her shoulders and drew angry lines down her back now gripped onto the sheets for dear life because this pleasure was simply unlike before. Something about the connection blooming right before your very eyes was exhilarating; it was comforting.

"Mommy," you whined and stared up intently, eyes brimming with tears as you felt overwhelmed by it all.

"Yes, love?"

"C-can I?" Wanda nodded, accompanied by a sweet smile that crinkled the skin of her nose and eyes, it was genuine, intimate, and the reason why you squirted.

Well, that and the surprise of being filled as Wanda had squeezed the cum pump without any warning.

Wanda felt the same need you just satisfied burning deep within her as your body contorted and a shriek of unnerving pleasure left your lips. Rutting into you didn’t provide the same pleasure it did beforehand now that your walls were slick but too tight to fight against.

In a craze she pulled out and tossed the strap away, her thighs corralled yours and tensed as two of her fingers worked her over fast. You gazed up just in time to see her face wash over with pleasure, there was a look of betrayal on your face that amused the brunette. Her fingers left her core and slipped passed your lips before you could protest that your job was stolen from you.

“I said you could taste, just not how,” she reminded you, and you didn’t even feel a need to protest. Far too busy sucking her fingers clean and feeling the spark of a forming addiction—you needed to taste the source.

However, you were too tired tonight and Wanda saw that as she gazed down into your glistening eyes. It was better that way too as Wanda’s cunt continued to drip.

"Twice," Wanda teased as your slick too dripped down her legs, “you are filthy; squirting on mommy’s bed.”

“‘M sorry,” you mumbled but she wasn’t sure you even knew what you were saying as your eyelids fluttered.

While you slipped in and out of sleep Wanda began to get a bath set up for you both, in one of the only en-suite’s this house has—perks of the house mom being your real mom’s best friend. Your soft snores amused her as they traveled through the crack in the door, into a steamy room decorated with rose petals and flames.

Truthfully, beneath the deceiving layers of grunge she wore with a resting scowl was a woman who genuinely believed in the sappy love stories that Hollywood sells. Wanda wasn’t a one trick pony, she heavily negated the societal need to keep interests separate. In public she kept her image intimidating, unintentionally she did it with you too, but now she’s ready for you to see all of her and with that you deserved her sappy humanity.

Wanda returned to the room once she deemed the tub was ready for you both, but she paused—allowing more steam to fill the space you’d soon occupy, just so she could admire your nude form beneath the moonlight. A smile bloomed as she caught sight of the marks she left behind, some too deep and noticeable for you to hide.

The woman felt prideful as she approached, but her resolve softened the closer she got as you looked so peaceful surrounded by her stained, mussed bedsheets. Currently, all she truly wanted was to hold you close.

You woke up with the gentle jolt of your body, made as Wanda lifted you up and into her chest, not forgoing a kiss to your temple that made you melt into her. A whine of protest followed seconds later as she placed you right onto the cooled toilet. In contrast, your body naturally reacted as it too sought relief, filling the toilet with the remnants of your passionate night together.

Wanda had slipped away again, but you were too tired to note her initial absence. When she returned, fresh pajamas in hand, you whined angrily. It was adorable, the way you reached for her and glared, as if she’d abandoned you, your intimidation tactic failed.

Wanda softly spoke, “Are you ready to bathe love?”

You shook your head and frowned, a bit embarrassed to ask for help but fortunately Wanda was in tune with you as she reached for the toilet paper and wiped. It was quick and she got you into the warm tub before you could overthink the moment. Successfully too as you melted into her front as the warmth soothed your aching muscles and fogged your mind up with peace.

There was no rush to her movements as she cleaned the both of you—if either of you had plans tomorrow it was fair to assume them canceled now. Wanda wasn’t ready to part ways and she knew you would likely be in the same state—if not more so after tonight’s drop.

Once the water began to chill, effectively making you shiver, she got you awake and out of the tub quickly. Wanda adored the way you clung to her, only parting when she persisted so she could get you two dressed.

“Brush your teeth,” she gently commanded, then with you distracted she returned to her room to place the freshly laundered sheets onto her mattress. Then she slid into a harness that made your eyes widen as you rushed out of the bathroom to find her. The muddled space you were in faded as you were unsure of her intentions, you even took a conscious step back once she began to approach but you quickly met the wall.

“Don’t be afraid,” she teased you—with the wide eyes and hesitant smile. “I was gonna ask, do you think it would be okay if mommy slept with her cock in you?”

Wanda’s arm was quick to wrap around your waist, holding you up as your knees proved useless, you felt her nose nudge into your jaw as her lips left warm kisses over the marks you’d yet to see on your neck. Even with as sensitive as you knew your pussy to be you gave in without any fight at all as you pleaded.

With a gentle hand Wanda slid the strap against your pussy until enough lubrication had manifested. Then she settled onto her mattress before guiding you over and slowly inserting herself back into you until there was no space left to fill. You pressed your lips to hers desperately, looking for a bit of comfort as you adjusted. A slow, passionate lip lock ensued until you felt the pain subside and the exhaustion return.

The Sokovian eased onto her back, gentle as she pulled your body down with hers to keep you comfortable. A blanket soon covered you both and you smiled as you tiredly remembered the night’s events—her intense eye contact that should’ve terrified you but it truly didn’t.

"I can't wait to fall in love with you," you admitted against her chest in your state of post-sex delirium and it brought a smile to the perceivably tough woman. It was too early, Wanda knew that, but the brunette had loved you for ages and now she is patiently waiting for you to return the sentiment. "ya uzhe lyublyu tebya."

(I already love you)

————

Bonus:

"Oh no," Natasha mumbled to her girlfriend, eyes catching sight of the random blonde that corralled you against the table. "Poor girl, she's not going to survive."

Maria humored her girlfriend by gazing up just in time to see a fuming Wanda storming over to you both.

"Which one?" Natasha chuckled and pecked her lovers lips, "both—but one will for sure be more pleasurable."

"You're a menace." Natasha smirked, "Oh, I know..."

#wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff fluff #wanda maximoff angst #wanda maximoff au #wanda maximoff smut #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x female reader #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff x y/n #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x maria hill #blackhill #wanda x you #wanda x y/n #wanda x reader #wanda x fem!reader

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earth4angels · 4 months ago

Text

𝐦𝐲 𝐛𝐨𝐲𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐢𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬

modern!benjicot blackwood x fem reader ─── p in v, car streamy hot smut, sexting, whipped, possessive benji. reader is jace's younger sister, jace is overprotective. benji has a foul mouth he is also in a band. summary: summer nights were always your favorite nights. the night young and filled with possibilities. your boyfriend was back from his gig tour, and you missed each other so much.

a/n: yea idc kieran is gonna stay my benji, hbo gotta get him back on set for season three.

benji nation tag list: @valdezthg @jacaerysgf @h-0-error @nikki-is-a-nerd @poppyflower-22 @housetargaryenloyalist @not-a-glad-gladiator

You lay on your stomach, your feet tapping in the air to the music blasting through your room. In front of you was a book, entranced in the letters of what lay before you, any noise other than your boyfriend's voice echoed through the room.

"How in the hell would she even want to take him back?" you mumbled angrily under your breath, upset the main character had forgiven her lover after he cheated. "Ugh worst book ever, never letting Aly recommend me books again!"

You swiped the book off your bed as you rolled onto your back, staring at the ceiling. You tilted your hand slightly to the side and coming across the picture of you and your boyfriend, Benjicot, you smiled. The picture brings you memories, of that day which rained heavily, but Ben had thought it was a good idea to find a photobooth.

You reached out to grab the small photo that held four different pictures of both of you. Each picture changed but never did the smiles you both held, except for the last photo. You blushed recalling the events that took place.

You sat in front of Ben - on his lap, his hands cupping your breasts as your head was tilted back, his lips locked on yours. You clenched your thighs together at the hot sex you both had that day when you arrived at his apartment.

Ben was still touring; he was a member of a band that was now slowly reaching mainstream media. You were happy for him, hell, you even told him it was a long time coming. However, you missed your boyfriend, it was already three months and all you ever saw of him was through a screen.

The picture returned by your bed stand where you held a lot of polaroids of both of you as your door slightly opened, a head peeked out through the crack of the door. You rolled your eyes, a slight smile slipping onto your lips.

"Are you going to come downstairs to join us for a movie tonight or not?" Jacaerys eyes wandered over your room, wincing at the loud music blasting through the speakers.

"What movie?"

His eyes found yours again before he rolled his eyes in a way that said, 'you already know.' You snorted, "Right. Let me guess, Luke wanted to see Scream and the boys wanted to see Toy Story?"

Jacaerys walked into your room then, his steps soft, his eyes narrowing when he noticed the sad glint in your eyes. "Hey. You know that I love you right?"

You groaned rolling onto your stomach again, burying your face into the pillow, "Ugh Jace..."

He chuckled before he laid his head onto your back, his arms wrapping around your waist, "Just saying. But you can tell me anything okay? Don't keep things bottled inside, it's not good for you."

You peeked an eye open to see him already looking at you, Jace knew how to get you talking, and while you found it incredibly annoying, you knew without your older brother you would have lost your mind. He was the calm while you were the storm.

"I just miss Ben, that's all."

"Ah... well." Jacaerys cleared his throat, his fingers tapping a beat onto your back, it soothed you. "Have you spoken to him?"

"Um... not exactly. Well, I did but it was like two weeks ago, he's been busy touring. He's recently headlined sold-out shows."

Your brother hummed; you sat up noticing his silent demeanor.

"Jace."

He moved his head towards yours, he looked at your narrowed eyes, warning him not to jump to conclusions. He sighed, rising his hands in surrender.

"I know. I know. But can you blame me? I love you, and you're my younger sister -"

You cut him off with a jab, "One year younger, Jace."

He breathed through his nose, "One year younger, whatever. But you're my sister nevertheless, so I will always protect you and feel the need to look for harm before it comes. I know you trust him. However, I'm your brother. Boyfriends and brothers don't always clash well."

You moved your head to the side, avoiding the deep stare your brother was sending your way. He sighed, he moved his hand onto your open knee, "But, I'll trust your judgment, and if you love and trust him a lot, then I will respect that."

A smile reached your lips before you turned to face him again, “That’s all I’m asking.”

Jacaerys poked your forehead with his finger before he cocked his head to the side, “Now come downstairs and stop moping around. If Daemon sees you like this, he’s worse than I am.”

You scrambled to getting up, reaching towards your stereo to turn off the music before following your brother downstairs.

“By the way, his new music is good, I’m glad he’s finally getting the recognition he deserves,” Jace mumbled, while he side eyed you. You only bit your lips hiding the proud smile you had.

“Yup, that’s why he’s the best.”

Jace groaned, feeling grossed out, “Okay stop getting cocky, go grab the pizza from the counter while I grab the blankets.”

You saluted him playfully, “Your wish is my command your majesty.”

—

“And so, we kissed and practically made out in the science room, ugh it was so hot!” Aly rambled, her hands moving around as she explained her story to you.

You nodded, replying with a short ‘uh-huh.’ Mentally you were not present, you were focused in painting, your eyes dancing back and forth towards the colors and your drawing book.

“You’re not listening,” Aly said pouting at you. You said nothing, however you held a smile as you painted, bringing you a sense of comfort. “Y/n.”

The brush moved delicately, adding another layer of color, you started to see the vision come to life. You were so close to rendering the shape more before the brush was snatched out of your hands. You gasped, jumping at your bubble being popped.

Aly sat next to you with your brush in her hand, her eyes narrowed, “Welcome back Picasso.”

You struck a tongue out towards her, yanking back your brush before you dipped it back to your glass of paint water to avoid the bristles drying.

“Sorry Aly, I just wanted to finish so I can submit this to the art show next week.”

Aly ruffled your hair in affection, “You’re worse than Ben.”

You winced at the name of your boyfriend, the name bringing you longing. You missed him. As you thought of him, your phone pinged. Your lock screen holding a picture of you two at a orchestra concert, his hands wrapped around your waist and yours held his cheeks laughing. Your heart thumped with a pain you couldn’t describe.

“Has he.. spoke to you by any chance?”

“Um… not really. Two nights ago he called, it was very loud though, so I couldn’t understand him well. But, he mentioned the tour was being successful and he’s in talks to signing into a label!”

You widened your eyes, this news surprised you, “No way? You’re joking?”

Aly shook her head, “Nope, it’s what he said. He’s close to becoming an all time celebrity.”

Your heart soared with pride and love for him. You wished this to happen. You knew how much Ben worked to get his music heard, only playing at small gatherings. He made you so proud, you couldn’t help but laugh with joy.

“Hopefully he’s back soon though, he’s a little shit.” Aly mumbled again, leaning back onto the blanket you both had set up on the grass.

You hummed, still holding a smile. Your phone pinged again, you dreaded it being Jace asking you to come home already. Grabbing your phone, you were then met with a message from your rockstar of a boyfriend. Your heart jumped to your throat as your eyes widened.

“I love you.”

The beat of your heart felt so hard it thumped against your breasts, your hand twisted grabbing your shirt to attempt it to stop.

“Fuck. I miss you. I’ll be home soon baby. Wait for me a little longer.”

You let out a girly giggle as you typed your response quickly. You looked up then, an idea slipping through your head. Grabbing your phone, you scrambled to get up. Aly opened her eyes, a look full of curiosity.

“Aly, i’ll be back! I gotta use the bathroom.”

She only waved her hand, you blew her a kiss before running across the field, into the school grounds. A few people waved at you, you hurriedly waved back, small hellos slipping from your lips. You arrived to the restroom, opening up a stall. The restroom was quiet, thankfully nobody was there. Yet the sound of your heart was loud.

Your fingers shook with excitement, you opened your phone to Ben’s messages. Typing, your foot tapped with mischief.

“I miss you… I wish you were here. I miss you and those hands of yours.”

In a heartbeat, the next message came.

“Yeah? How much do you miss me darling?”

A shaky breath was all you exhaled, you were wearing a skirt with your boyfriend’s band t-shirt and a pair of sneakers Ben had gifted you the first christmas you spent together.

You sat at the toilet quietly, extending your hearing to check if anyone was there, when you got confirmation you propped your phone onto the toilet paper holder. You pressed record, not showing your face as you wanted to focus on the way your hands moved.

Slowly, your fingers trailed over your body to the bottom of your skirt where your fingers trailed down the black panties you owned. Slowly, you pulled them off. Making sure the camera focused on your lower half, you continued.

You wanted to make Ben heard the sounds of your breath quickening, the way your fingers trailed through the opening of your folds and the wet sounds that came from it. You thought of the last time Ben had touched you, it was quick but he made sure he dedicated all the time to you, not caring that his cock was hard and straining his jeans the whole night after that.

You pictured his fingers, the fingers that held metal rings that you currently owned one of them. The way his face buried into your neck as he bit onto your skin, whispering how he loved you and how he couldn’t wait to have you.

Your fingers worked quick as you thought of Ben. Your eyes were hooded, filled with tears from how over stimulated you were. You had two fingers inside, pumping them in and out, rubbing your sensitive bud with your other hand. It wasn’t until you thought of how Ben held you over the toilet sink, his tongue licking your throat as his hand cupped your jaw, his fingers deep inside your cunt - you squealed.

Your legs shook hard, the smooth runny liquid of your orgasm dripped down your fingers. You sat dazed, and with shaky fingers you pressed the stop button on your phone. You laughed breathlessly at what you had just done.

“I missed you this much, that I wish you were the one that did this instead.”

You hit reply as you attached the video onto the message. You giggled at the thought of having Benji bothered through his set. You stood up with shaky legs, cleaning up any evidence of what happened.

As you cleaned yourself by the mirror, grabbing your baseball hat to clip it around your head, a message pinged your phone. You quickly opened it, and what you saw left you bothered the entire day. Damn you Benjicot Blackwood.

“Soon, I’ll have you screaming my name darling. Just wait and see.”

Attached was a picture of Ben in what seemed in his tour bus, standing in front of a mirror stark naked, holding his cock in his hand, it was hard, wet, and my god it was big. You gulped, suddenly feeling like you needed water.

—

You sat at your family dinner table, books in front of you as you quietly did your studying. A plate of sliced fruit was placed in front of you, you looked up finding the warm eyes of your mother.

“Eat my sweet.”

“But mom…”

Rhaenyra flicked her fingers against your forehead slightly, you pouted, letting out a whine. She only smiled as she walked closer to you, placing a kiss onto your forehead.

“Eat. Don’t be Jace who forgets to eat when he’s studying as well.”

You rolled your eyes at the mention of your brother, “That’s because Jace is a overachiever. Dare I mention a teacher’s pe-“

“Ah ah, don’t be mean y/n. Your brother works hard yes, but he only strives to be the best and to be worthy of being my heir.”

Rhaenyra combed her fingers through your hair as she nagged you. Your head tilted towards her touch, loving when your mother babied you. You said nothing, only nodding your head. You heard her clear her throat suddenly.

You raised your head to look at her, “Mom?”

“I saw Benjicot on the news. He’s becoming quite big isn’t he?”

You moved your head away, avoiding her eyes and dreading of a conversation that happened once in a while. You didn’t blame them, but it was getting exhausting.

Dating the lead singer of a rock band wasn’t on their list, especially knowing he was gaining attention all over Westeros, he had the eyes of not only girls but the media. Your mother, loathed the media as she didn’t like what they whispered about you or your brothers.

You heard your mother breathed in before she grabbed your shoulders softly, “I don’t mind you dating him sweetheart. I just want you to be safe. If you believe he’s the one for you, he respects you, loves you? Don’t worry about what I think. I care about you at the end of the day. I only met the boy once and he was kind, honorable.”

Biting your lip you nodded, “I do trust him, and I understand where you and Jace come from.”

Your mother quirked a smirk, “Ah.. don’t worry about Jace. Secretly he approves but he needs to be a little… intimidating. He wouldn’t be an older brother if he wasn’t.”

You rolled your eyes, “He’s a pain in the ass.”

Your mother swatted your shoulder, “Language. He loves you, be a little compassionate. You will be the pain in Luke, Aegon or Viserys’ once they start bring girls over the house.”

The thought of having girls come over and the possibility of any heart break gave your heart a tug. “Ugh you’re right okay.”

Rhaenyra kissed your head again, gesturing to the plate of fruit, “Make sure you eat, and get to bed early okay? You have your exams in the morning.”

“I love you mom.”

She smiled, “And I love you darling.”

—-

“I am free! Worst experience of my life!” Aly exclaimed as both of you laughed, arms linked together, steps rushing out the door of the school’s grounds.

“Graduation is finally next week, we are going to go off for another 4 years of hell,” you reminded her as she whined

“Such a buzzkill, let’s just enjoy the fact that we are free and we got the summer to relax before we move in to our dorms and start orientation.”

You smiled, you slipped on your sunglasses, blocking the heat of the sun hurting your eyes. You glanced around looking at everyone rushing out the building with big smiles on their faces. However something catched your eye and you weren’t sure whether you wanted to throw up or you wanted to scream and run.

People started to squeal, and whisper between each other. You felt the eyes of people looking at you, Aly gasped.

Benjicot Blackwood, in full leather pants with only a white tank top on stood in front of campus, leaning against his vintage sports car, he seemed like he was talking on the phone, a cigarette hanging on the corner of his lips.

“Oh my god, he’s back and he never told me?” Aly exclaimed beside you, “Worst cousin in the world if i can say.”

You paid no attention to her as you got closer to the man that owned your entire heart. He continued to talk on the phone, his eyes scanning through the faces of people that began to circle him before he found yours.

He spoke something fast before he placed his phone into his front pocket, he tossed his cigarette onto the floor, his lips turning into an amused smile. You ignored the gossip as you continued to walk towards him, you saw how he licked his lips, his smile widening as he took you in.

“Hi my darling,” he said as you got closer, your heart beated fast. You let out a short laugh as you threw yourself into his open arms, he chuckled, holding you close, burying his head into your neck. “I’ve missed you baby.”

You let out a sigh of relief that you finally had him back, “I missed you Ben…”

He pulled away, his eyes twinkling with mischief that left you clenching your hands onto his shoulders. He leaned towards your lips, you met him in the middle being surrounded by the softness of his lips. You tried to memorize the smell, his touch, the scent of cologne mixed with the faint smell of his cigarette that he had just smoked.

He groaned into your mouth as you pulled the hair by his nape, “Careful darling, you’re touching hot territory.”

Tugging it more, you whispered into his lips, “I don’t care.”

He sucked in a breath, his hold tightening around your waist, “You’ll regret that baby.”

“Perhaps.”

His eyes screamed something you wish you understood, his mouth opened to retort something when Aly came forward pushing the crowd of people out of her way, “Nice for you to let me know you were coming douchebag”

Ben held a gaze on you, he licked his lower lip slowly, you felt the moisture gathering down there, you were afraid you might jump him here and there in front of all these people before he side eyed his cousin.

You sighed in relief when he put you down, wrapping an arm around your shoulder.

He clicked his tongue, “I catched the first flight home. I missed my girl and I couldn’t miss the graduation either.”

You smiled, the blood rushing towards your cheeks. Aly rolled her eyes, “A notice would be nice asshole.”

He grinned a boyish smile, “Love you too Aly.”

Aly glanced around at the people that gathered, their phones out as they took photos of them. You saw the wrinkle on her forehead that only showed she was starting to get irritated.

“Alright shows over! Go home!” Aly screamed, her hands waving around at every word. You heard Ben snicker.

“I’ll take you home and pick you up later,” he told you.

You looked up at him finding him looking down at you, his hair falling down in nice waves onto his forehead. You reached out to push his hair back, smiling when he leaned towards your touch even more, “Where are we going?”

He placed a kiss onto the palm of your hand, “That’s for me to know and for you to find out.”

You moaned in annoyance. He grabbed your waist as you attempted to jump into the passenger seat, he leaned towards your ear, “Dress nicely, hm I’ll like to hear those moans loudly later.”

The entire car ride he had his hand on your thigh, you played with the rings on his fingers, finding every ring interesting as each ring was different than each other. You heard him speak to Aly, your mind wondering where he would take you later.

“Alright baby, we’re here.”

You leaned forward, finding the gates to the big entrance of your family’s home. Turning your head back towards Aly, “I’ll see you later Aly, text me if you want to go to the Riverlands, i’d love to go.”

Aly sent you a kiss, “I’ll text you, have a good night babe!”

Ben had already opened the door for you, his hand stretched out for you to take. You giggled when you held it as he pulled you out, leaning you back onto the door.

“Remember wear something nice,” he softly said it as his hands cupped your face pulling you towards him, his lips warm. You pressed against him harder, feeling him bite into your lip as a warning. You continued however, snaking your hands into his long black hair.

“Y/n”

You snapped your eyes open, pushing Ben away from you in a flash. Besides the car stood Jace, his hand holding little Aegon’s hand.

You saw the way Benji straightened his back, swallowing hard at the sight of your brothers. You nibbled onto your lip, fearing your brother would make a scene. None of you three said a word, until Ben held your hand softly, his throat clearing.

“Hello Jacaerys.”

Jace looked towards Ben, his eyes narrowed. You saw how his eyes moved up and down Ben’s figure, calculating, analyzing him, finding any wrong thing. He resorted to just giving a nod, “Congratulations on the sold out tour.”

Benji laughed, nodding in thankfulness, “Thank you. Um, I wanted to question you for a moment if that’s okay?”

Jace looked towards you who avoided his gaze as you focused on the shoes of your brother instead. “Oh? What about?”

“I wish to take out y/n tonight if that’s alright?”

He quirked an eyebrow, “Why are you asking me this?”

Ben only tightened the hold of your hand, “Because you care about her, and I only want to protect her as well. I plan to stay longer, and I truly love your sister, on contrary to what you think.”

He was silent, only looking between you both, analyzing. Aegon only played with his little dragon toy not caring of what was happening in front of him.

You begged him with your eyes to not ruin this for you, Jace only sighed. His shoulders dropping, “I appreciate it Benjicot-“

Benji interrupted him, “Ben or Benji. I hope to have a friendly relationship with the male my girlfriend looks up to and thinks highly of.”

You side eyed him in betrayal, you never wanted Jace to know how you thought of him. Your brother looked at you fast, his eyes widening but now filled with love towards you.

“Alright Ben. I hope we do have a civil nice relationship. Do bring her home safely. Call me if anything happens.”

Ben nodded, smiling in reassurance, “You got it.”

Jace looked at you again, his eyes screaming we will talk later, yet he walked away, Aegon jumping childishly after him.

Ben looked towards you again, his hand lifting yours before he placed a kiss on the front, “See you later baby.”

You rolled your eyes, “You’re an ass.”

He smirked, his eyes twinkling, “Yeah? Well you’ll have no complaints later on.”

You groaned, pushing him away to follow the direction your brothers took. Behind you Benji was laughing hard, his hair flowing nicely through the wind.

—

Ben never told you where he was taking you so having no sense of occasion how to dress, you wore something casual. A corset shirt, with a mini skirt. You decided on a pair of ballet flats, your hair was straightened, a head band holding the front of your hair back.

Your phone pinged, a message from Benji announcing his arrival. You rushed to grab your essentials, shoving them into your purse as you sprayed your perfume. Your body tingling with nerves, it has been a while since you went on a date with your boyfriend. You missed him a lot, and it felt just like how you first met.

Luke was heading upstairs with a bowl of chips in his hands as you rushed downstairs. He looked at you in shock, “Woah…”

You stopped, stealing a chip from his bowl, he whined.

“If you see mom, tell her i’m out with Benji?”

His eyes widened, “Woah woah?! He’s here?! Please tell him to give me a free CD of his new record, it sold out before I got my hands on it!”

You groaned, rushing out the door, hearing Luke whining how he wants a free CD from his future brother in law. As you got outside you met the eyes of your boyfriend.

He stood with by the door of the passenger seat, his hand holding a cigarette, his hair was slicked back with only a loose strand of hair in front of his forehead.

You were glad you weren’t overdressed. He stood in an all denim outfit, you found it hard to control yourself as again all he wore was a tank-top. Shaking your head from any urging thoughts, you approached him.

His eyes shined, his lips stretched with a huge smile he was sporting as he laid eyes on you.

“Hi.”

“Hi to you darling, dare I say. You look delicious as fuck?”

You snorted, “I don’t know. Do I?” You spun in front of him in a twirl, enjoying the way he whistled, his dark eyes scanning you up and down.

“You look beautiful darling. Ready to go?”

You nodded your head as he took you into his arms, pecking you softly on the lips as he guided you to the passenger seat.

You didn’t know where you were headed, but whatever or wherever it was, Ben didn’t give you time to guess as he spent the entire car ride talking to you.

His hand never left your thigh, and while you felt comfort you just wished he would lift his fingers closer to your core that was burning with the thought of having him. You bit your lip hard, wanting your boyfriend to ravish you.

“Alright we’re here.”

You looked away from his face, confusion hitting you hard as you didn’t know where exactly here was. You looked back at Ben who only smiled. Deadpanned you asked, “Um.. where’s here?”

“Oh princess, you’re cute and funny.”

You stared at him confused. You scanned the area again with more detail, you gasped when you realized where you were. He had taken you to the highest point of Landing. The mountains where clouds were close to humans touch, where one said humans were closer to the gods due to the way stars felt so close and shined the brightest. You could see the sea from where you stood, the stars, the city’s life.

“Ben.. oh my god this is beautiful.”

You didn’t know he was looking at you with such dumbfounded love eyes, “Yeah. Really beautiful.”

You looked back at him, “Are we spending the whole night here? Sightseeing?”

He clicked his tongue, “Of course not. I bought us take out, we’re having a dinner, picnic style here.” He reached his hand in the backseat where he pulled out a basket, and a huge blanket, it looked soft. Your heart skipped the beat at the details he thought of.

He placed the basket softly onto your lap as he moved to open the door, your eyes followed him silently watching him grab things from the trunk to place them outside. And as you watched him move silently, for some reason you got nervous, jittery. It was like having a first date all over again, the butterflies flowing everywhere in your stomach.

You loved Benjicot, and nobody knew him like you did, no one will ever see this side of him, because the Benjicot they knew was a rockstar, a guy who jumped and sung his heart out on stage. A guy full with fury, with over excessive amount of energy but also with thoughts that were considered anxiety.

However the Benji you knew, the one who sent you flowers before he even introduced himself to you, the one who wrote a song about you which blew him into stardom, the one who would sneak into your room when he overthought another series of scenarios that hadn’t happened yet but he found comfort in your arms, that was the Ben that you knew and grew to fall in love with.

You snapped out of your thoughts as Ben opened the door for you, guiding you towards the picnic he had prepared, your heart soaring to your throat. He had prepped candles, a light holder that was used typically for camping, but he organized everything to the last detail, even going ahead to getting pillows, separate blankets if you were to get cold.

You placed the basket onto the floor as you moved towards the smiling Ben, who was currently feeling extremely satisfied, your hands pulled him down towards you, as you kissed him deeply.

He gasped into your mouth in surprise, holding you tightly against him. You placed two final kisses on his lips as you pulled back, leaving him leaning forward instinctively for more.

“I love you. I love this… thank you.”

He opened his eyes to gaze into yours, “Always.”

You pulled him down into the pillows he had prepared for you both, as you took out the food he had ordered, your heart growing warm at the sight of the food, it was your favorite dishes.

Both of you are in full conversation, never was there a moment a silence, Ben had went out of his way to even bring a small stereo to play music. As you got closer to finishing you began to get quiet, biting absently onto a strawberry he had bought for you.

“Y/n.. are you okay, did you not like it?”

You turned towards him, eyebrows furrowing, “No of course not! I love it, everything. You. I love you. I was just thinking.”

“Of what? You can tell me anything, you know that.” Ben pulled you onto his lap, you straddled him, your arms wrapping around his neck.

“I just miss you when you’re away… you’re gone for long and then the media is ruthless… you’re signing to an official label… eyes will be on you even more…”

Ben kissed you, interrupting your rambling. You moaned into his mouth when he had bit into your lip, allowing the small gasp to slip his tongue, massaging your tongue with his. His hands ran through your legs, cupping your behind to push you harder into him.

“You talk a lot. And worry for small shit that hasn’t happened yet.”

You opened your eyes to see him grinning, you poked his forehead, “Asshole.”

“Again, I don’t see you complaining. But, you need to relax. I love you y/n. I want to share all of my ups and downs with you, i want to explore the world, share all my success and failures with you. I want to marry you.”

Your eyes widened.

However Ben continued, “I don’t really give a fuck if I have media on me, I just care about you. I care about your opinions, your thoughts, your wellbeing.”

You stuttered, his speech leaving you dazed. You couldn’t find words to describe how you were feeling at the moment, you just needed him. So you leaned down to kiss him, this time your hips moved against his crotch. He grunted, his hands becoming desperate holds on your behind.

He leaned you towards the pillows, “Here? Are you-“

You kissed him again, “Here. God. Anywhere I just want you.”

Benji’s eyes twitched with such emotion that left you tightening your legs around his waist, thrusting softly towards him. Grinding softly, you held onto him tighter, desperate to feel him closer, annoyed clothes were in the way. Benji’s eyes rolled to the back of his head as he took sharp breaths.

“Stop. Seven fucking hells y/n, stop.”

You paused, the heat of the night making you feel a little warmer than usual. You were surprised to hear him stop you when usually he would just yank open your clothes to take you.

“Ben?”

He took a deep breath before he got to his feet, still holding you against him. You squealed, wrapping yourself around him as you watched him sit you on top of his car.

“You’re a devil in disguise princess.”

You grinned, pushing his hair back as you leaned towards him to bite softly at his chin. He pushed you back on the hood of his car as he laid kisses on every piece of your skin that was open. You moaned at every suck, bite, lick he was leaving as he explored your body.

He stopped when he got to the waist band of your skirt, “This is pretty.. should we keep it on?”

You were breathing hard as you tried to form a sentence. He chuckled, licking his lips once again. You feared if he took any longer to touch you, you’d just start crying. Your wish came true when you yelped loudly at the cold touch of his rings trailing your legs up to your waist.

He pulled your panties down, but instead of just the usual way of just flinging it to the side, he shoved it into his front pocket. Your core growing more wetter than usual, the thoughts of what he might do with those excited you.

“Are you sure here? We can just go back to my apar-“

You shuddered at the air going to your bare core, “Ben please, here. I need you.”

You watched as his eyes closed, before he leaned down to press a kiss onto your chapped lips. As he kissed you, his fingers moved quietly, your mouth opened as you felt the first finger enter you. He shushed you, murmuring how lucky he was, how much he missed you. He kissed your long loud moans, his finger working in and out of you faster.

Accidentally biting into his lip, you tasted the metallic taste of blood, instead of grossing you out, you kissed him more. Benji only hissed as he buckled into your core, he was feeling stressed knowing he was close to coming just with the way you were reacting to a finger of his.

“Ben-Ben I can’t.. I need you..” you tugged his hair tightly, still moaning into his mouth. He only pressed a kiss onto your cheeks, your nose, leaving you intoxicated with his touch.

He removed his finger, moving to remove you of your corset, his mouth opening in slight shock when you wore nothing but just your top.

“You truly are a little devil.”

You attempted to send him a grin but he had already leaned down to continue his exploration, his mouth wrapped on your perky bud, as the other massaged the other. He moaned, sending vibrations all over your body. Your eyes teared from the sensation, you were laid exposed on the hood of your boyfriends car, at the top view of Landing, you were truly close to the gods than ever.

“Mine.”

Your mind was elsewhere, too lost in the pleasure that you almost missed what he had said, he had grabbed your chin again as he pulled you close to his face.

You probably looked like a mess but if you did, he didn’t complain, he only looked at you with full adoration and all the care of the world.

“Come.”

With the help of Ben who noticed you were too exposed, only wearing the skirt he kept on you, he carried you instead inside his car. He moved quickly. Allowing the front seats of the car to be pushed all the way forward to allow you both to find comfort in the back seat.

He sat you on top of his lap, you looked at him as he did you. His eyes glittered in the moonlight, you felt lost in his eyes, your fingers trailed from the top of his head to every freckle, the slight bump of his nose, his slight scar on the top of his lip that added so much character to the man you loved with all your heart. He breathed you in, closing your eyes as you memorized every detail that made him Benjicot.

You took his peaceful state to remove his jacket, pulling his tee off of him, your core burned as you took in his shape. He had gotten more muscular and god… it made you need him much more.

“Do you enjoy the view or are you going to carry on darling?”

Ben had his eyes closed still, however his lips were twisted into a smirk, you grew with a need to make him start begging.

As you moved to remove his jeans, which he moved slightly to have them off, you noticed how hard he was, you smirked knowing how to get him hot, desperate.

You knew he wouldn’t expect it so you moved quick before he had you shaking instead. You took him in your hand, needing two to handle him, and with a long stripe you took him in your mouth. He gasped loudly, buckling into your hold.

“Fucking hell…” he grabbed onto your hair, pulling it, digging his fingernails when you took him all the way in. You slightly gagged when you felt him deep down your throat but you enjoyed to hear Benji whimper in your hold, he was grabbing tightly onto your hair, not enough for it to hurt but it sent fire through your veins.

You moved your head up and down, using your hands to grab hold of the skin that you couldn’t put in your mouth, and with that motion you had Benji moaning loudly, shaking, trembling. He was whispering, gasping how beautiful you looked, how much he had missed you, how he thought of you every night when he touched himself.

“Seven hells, y/n!”

You yelped when he pushed you off of him, only to have you under him, he kept your skirt on and with no warning, he held you close, his mouth on yours as he pushed in all the way into your wanting core.

The entrance felt too good you only moaned into his mouth as he shuddered indulging himself in your heat and how good you felt around him. You only held him close to you, he had his face deep in your neck.

“Is this okay darling? Do you feel me?”

You felt him more than anything. You felt every push, every single time he pulled back and thrusted into you again, you felt his hands holding onto your waist, how he whispered into your ear the declarations of love. You only nodded whimpering when he began to thrust at a rhythm.

Benji wanted you to feel his love, the absence he felt when he wasn’t by your side. He wanted you to feel how much he would do for you, how he would bring you the fucking moon if you asked for it. He would rather burn himself than to ever loose you.

He held you with such care contrary of the way his hips were moving, how he pushed against you hard that you feared the car would break with how desperate he was thrusting.

“More.. god I love you.” You whined into his shoulder, biting into the pale skin, he whimpered. Shaking in your hold as you probably were as well he moved to the side, sitting you on top of him.

“Ride me darling, let me see you pretty girl.”

You leaned onto your feet, guiding his throbbing cock into your folds again you slid all the way down, gasping at the new angle. With half lidded eyes you watched Ben whisper several curses, his head falling back into the seat as his tongue poked out slightly.

“L-look at me Ben…” you commanded, reaching for his hands to place them onto your waist. You were shaking hard knowing you were close, and you felt he was close as well as you felt the throbbing inside you, the twitching.

He opened his eyes, and he was rewarded with such sight that he wished he had his phone with him to capture such sight. You sat on top, a black flattery skirt on, breasts full on display as the tips of your hair was tangled with the way he had hold of them.

“Fucking hell, you are beautiful my love. All mine. Are you baby? Are you mine?”

You whimpered as you lifted yourself from his throbbing cock to only slide down hard watching his eyes tear from the need to just ravish you but his love overpowered him.

“I’m yours Benjicot Blackwood. Today and tomorrow, and always I will be yours.”

You grabbed his hand which he interlocked with yours.

He sat up to grab you face to face, and with that began a round of the most pleasure you had ever experienced. You never let go of his hand as you never faltered in the stare you had on him. You swore you never felt him this close. Your heart felt like it was going to jump out of your chest, Benji’s breath quickening yet he never let his dark stare leave yours.

You were beautiful, you were a goddess to Benji, and though he was surrounded by million of other girls, he would never think anyone matched your level. No one looked much prettier taking his cock like you did. He’d go to war for you if you simply asked.

You clutched into his shoulders, letting out a sob as he had touched your sensitive spot, “There.. Ben…”

“Come on pretty girl, you’re almost there. I’m almost there”

You threw your head back as you moved up and down, Ben meeting your every thrust with enthusiasm. He would be there to catch you when you fell. Always.

He shook when he felt the bubble in the pit of his stomach, he began to see flashes yet he shook his head as he looked up at you. His gaze turning into a blur, he was close but he wanted to see you.

“Come on baby, give in to me.”

You grabbed onto his neck, sobbing into his mouth, “I love you Ben..”

He felt as if the world ended tonight, he wouldn’t mind. This would be the perfect way to die, “I love you more baby. You are my entire world”

With a final thrust, you came crumbling down into his hold, you sobbed as he kissed you through your aftershocks, feeling him gasp as he came deep inside you.

You sat in each other arms, riding the aftershocks, shaking as if you were in the cold winter, you didn’t want to look at the state of the car knowing you’ll meet a disaster. You and Ben were never nice to the surroundings once you started.

You heard him breathe uncontrollably, holding him onto your chest, you felt his arms cradle you close. You sat in silence, waiting for your breaths to be back to normal. It was then you felt Ben chuckle against your bare skin.

You tilted your head back to have a good eye on your now laughing boyfriend. “What’s so funny?”

“You really did miss me. Maybe I should go away often,” he shook his head, the sweat dripping from his chin. You rolled your eyes as you joined in his laugh.

You were glad your boyfriend was back in town, in your arms where he belonged.

#𓇼 nattie's works #house of the dragon #benjicot blackwood x reader #davos blackwood #davos x reader #benjicot x reader #benjicot blackwood #bloody ben #hotd x y/n #hotd imagine #hotd x reader #house of the dragon fanfiction

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fleurriee · 1 year ago

Text

— the one ; neteyam sully

pairing ; neteyam sully x fem!reader

synopsis ; neteyam was beginning to court you, much to your elation. each time he showed you how much you meant to him, you only fell more in love with him.

word count ; 10.3k (we don’t talk about it)

themes ; fluff, soon-to-be mates

warnings ; tooth-rotting fluff, vv brief mentions of worrying over someone’s well-being, uses of y/n.

author’s note ; i can’t tell if this got slightly worse as it neared the end but we’re just gonna leave it bc i do like it. i mean, who doesn’t like the idea of neteyam courting them??? also, this is my longest fic yet & it wasn’t supposed to be anywhere near this long but i just got carried away bc i love neteyam so much. sue me.

main masterlist request a fic!

For a short while now, yourself and Neteyam were in the courting process of your relationship.

It wasn’t too long ago when the male Na’vi asked your permission to do so, along with your parents’, and the thought always caused butterflies to roam in your stomach, no matter how much time passed in between. Neteyam was the perfect Na’vi - a mighty warrior, a caring gentleman, someone who knew how to properly lead, something that would one day aid him when he took over as Olo’eyktan.

So, in short, you simply couldn’t believe your luck when he asked you.

You could argue that you saw it coming with the way he always sought you out in a crowd, the gentle smiles he sent in your direction, but you’d be lying to yourself. Having Neteyam te Suli Tsyeyk’itan choose you to be his mate was something you never would have imagined possible in your wildest dreams. Of course, it was something you did imagine - you were pretty sure every other Na’vi your age did, too - but to have it play out in front of your very eyes was a whole different experience.

His family were welcoming, too, letting you safe in their warm embrace and treating you like one of their own - because you would be, someday soon. Neteyam’s family and your own got on well which was a huge relief to the both of you, making his progress just slightly easier.

His aforementioned progress in courting you was something that caused a blush to rise on your cheeks, filling you to the brim with elation. Each time you saw him, you were sure you were close to combusting; each time he spoke, you were sure your heart was close to melting. Everything about Neteyam was godly, otherworldly... how in Ewya had you managed to get him to choose you as a mate?

You were forced out of your jumbled, overthinking thoughts when Tuk let out a loud gasp. The young girl was situated in front of you, comfortably placed on top of your crossed legs, twiddling away at the carved wooden toys her eldest brother had gifted her a while ago. She had come to you earlier, asking you to braid her hair with some of the beads she had recently collected with her sister, Kiri. Of course, you couldn’t say no to her - you were sure Tuk could ask anything of you, no matter the circumstance, and you’d still say yes. It was those big eyes looking up at you, all pure and innocent of the dangers surrounding them with the war brewing nearby. You’d do anything to shield her away from that.

When Tuk gasped, for a split second, you thought you’d hurt her. Your eyes were frantic as you looked over her figure, but then another sound pierced through the atmosphere - a horn. Following Tuk’s line of sight, that’s when you spotted the group of ikran’s beginning to descend back into camp, chants from the warriors filling the air with their victory.

That meant Neteyam was back, too.

Lightly brushing back Tuk’s hair, the braids practically finished, you patted her back to ensure her she was okay to run over to her returning family. She doesn’t even pay you any mind and you laugh at her reaction, watching as she screams out in exclamation, her feet rushing over to where you watch her parents descend.

Standing up from the ground, you jump down from where you were seated, landing softly and jogging over, following after Tuk. The idea of seeing Neteyam again - even though it hadn’t been that long since you last saw one another - had you full to the brim with excitement. He was your future mate - it was practically your job to feel like this at the prospect of seeing him, even if you had only been away for a short period of time.

But, when your eyes finally land on who you were looking for, the smile drops from your face and replaces itself with worried features. Just a couple of steps away, you watch as Jake stands in front of his two sons, his back clearly showing off his agitation. You don’t hear what they’re saying, but you can tell it’s nothing good - both Neteyam and Lo’ak have their heads hung low, ashamed at the obvious lecture they were receiving from their father.

At the sight, you can’t help the way your heart aches for the two boys. Since Neteyam had started to court you, you had spent a lot of time with his family, meaning you got to know each of them pretty well, including Lo’ak. You got on with him great, despite your stark differences in personality, but you could tell everything he did was just to live up to the shadow of both his father and older brother. He just wanted to be like them.

And, Neteyam - he was always the protector, whether it was for his parents, his siblings, for you. If Lo’ak had done something reckless and dangerous, you knew Neteyam wouldn’t have been too far behind him, watching his every move and ensuring his younger brother’s safety. It was both a strength and a weakness of his.

Your eyes scrape over your future mate, checking every inch of his body until you spot a cut at his side that he’s trying to hide from everyone else’s view. It’s clear no one else has spotted it, or else you were sure they would’ve sent him straight to a healer to get it treated. Thankfully, the wound didn’t look too bad, but you could tell it was hurting him - from the signs of him fidgeting from foot to foot, keeping his hand pressed firmly against his side in a weak attempt to dull the pain, his eyes frantically searching about the place to find an opening of escape.

You know him too well.

That’s when your eyes meet, and if it wasn’t for the worry currently eating away at your very being, it would’ve felt as though the whole of Pandora stopped around you, just the two of you in a world of your own. That’s how it always felt around Neteyam, and knowing you had more of this to look forward to for the rest of your lives was enchanting.

In a bid to reassure your future mate, you send him over a soft smile, one full of care and admittance. A small nod of your head accompanied it, too, ensuring him that you would be there for him when he was finished with his father. You understand the weight bearing down upon his shoulders after the several times he would open himself up to you, and you’d be damned if you let him drown. No matter the circumstance, no matter the cost, you’d make it your life’s mission to pull him out when he started to struggle.

A tense smile in return is your only response, another subtle nod of his head with it, too, but you can see the way his body moves stiffly, as if afraid of more reprimand, as if hurting. His eyes held all the love and adoration he had for you like they always did, and seeing such a sight made you feel a little calmer about the situation.

Neither yourself nor Neteyam were conspicuous in your looks towards one another, it seemed, for Jake immediately noticed the way his eldest son’s attention was snagged somewhere else. He watched as Neteyam’s ears twitched a little, tail perking up from its once ashamed downturn, a smidge of light coming back to his eyes. It was obvious what the cause of such a demeanour was, and when he turned his head to look behind himself and found you, standing your weight from one foot to the another, fingers mindlessly playing together in a bid to calm your nerves and tail swishing in anticipation, he was proved correct.

He sighed deeply, turning back around and talking to Neteyam, words being shared that you couldn’t hear, but as he gestured over to you, you stood straighter as you realised he was dismissing his son. The young Na’vi in question doesn’t move quickly, something you can decipher from his wounded side he continued to clutch away from any possible prying eyes, but he does move eagerly, wanting to get over to you as soon as he can.

Not even ten steps between the two of you, and your feet are moving of their own accord, hurrying closer to his figure. You reach your arms out to him, hands grasping against his arms with care to help steer him in the direction of a healing tent. Your eyes wonder seamlessly back down to his wound, looking over every inch of it to ensure it’s not entirely life-threatening. In conclusion that it isn’t, a small breath of relief escapes your lips, shaking your head - still, it looks painful.

Looking back up at him, your eyes filter from one of his to the other in a bid to garner his full attention whilst the two of you continue walking. “Are you okay?” you question, your voice coming out breathy.

“It is fine.” His words are short and sharp, and if it wasn’t for the piercing wound aching at his side, you’d assume he was mad at you. But, that obviously wasn’t the case - Neteyam rarely got angry, and if he did, he swore it’d never be at you.

You scoff before you can decipher your own response, eyes trailing back down. “It doesn’t look fine.” When he doesn’t say anything in return, you look back up at him, finding his gaze already trained on you, a small, graceful smile painting at his lips. It makes your heart flutter, knowing that such a rare beauty is entirely for you. Trying to bite back the reciprocating smile desperate to show itself, you shake your head at your future mate and his antics, wanting to stay annoyed at him for once again throwing himself in harm’s way for the sake of others. But, when he looks at you like that, you find it difficult to do anything.

The healing tent you had intended to take him into finally appeared in front of you, sounds of chatter and winces coming through to your ears from inside. You weren’t a fan of such places due to the pain and misery it brought the people of your clan, but as the mate of the future Olo’eyktan, you knew you’d eventually have to suck it up and put on a brave face for those around you. You’d be spending more time in there than you’d like to admit.

Bringing your arm up and leaving the other one clasped tightly around Neteyam’s bicep, you go move the tent flap away, but another beats you to it. Despite the obvious pain he’s in, Neteyam reaches out, opening the entrance up for you and gestures you in. You stop in your tracks, looking over at him pointedly, but he doesn’t acknowledge the way your eyes reprimand him - even when in agony, he’s still adamant to be a good future mate in courtship.

You sigh, almost a little agitated that he still felt the need to prove himself to you, even when your heart beats rapidly in your chest at such a domestic gesture, the determination of Neteyam Sully peaking through his pained actions. As you step inside, you feel him grab a hold of your hand from behind you, his warm and callous skin juxtaposing against one another, but have you shivering in affection all the same. He allows you to guide him through the tent, weaving around those moving hurriedly to others sitting and waiting for their treatment, before you finally find a somewhat-secluded area towards the back.

With his hand still firmly in your grip, you turn to him, moving your other one around his bicep again and begin helping the both of you steadily to the ground, each of you guiding the other with delicacy. You didn’t want Neteyam to be in more pain than he already was, and Neteyam always treated you like you were fragile glass - something that didn’t bother you, although you have had others say it would bother them, but you paid no mind to them.

Once the two of you were as comfortable as you could be in a tent crowded with other injured people, sat cross-legged and facing one another, you gently pried his hand that had continued to cover the wound in his side. You were slow with your movements, sending him a look of reassurance that you would be tender. He winced slightly when the cool breeze smacked so suddenly against the now-rough skin, his head hanging low and shaking from side to side to tell himself that the pain was nothing. Neteyam never did like to come across as weak - especially in front of you.

You can’t help the way your eyes narrow up at him, a frown on your lips. “I wish you were more careful...” your voice is barely a whisper, not wanting anyone else to hear in on your conversation. With thoughtful touches, you begin to clean away at the wound, wanting to make sure the blood is washed away and nothing made its way in that could make it worse.

“I am always careful.” There’s another wince, another strain when he speaks, the sensation of your fingers against his skin both sending delightful shivers down his spine and causing his tail to stand on end from the pain.

Stopping in your movement, you sit up in front of him, watching as he slowly lifts his head once he realises you’ve paused. “This,” you say, pointing directly to his wound, “says otherwise.”

Neteyam doesn’t say anything as you immediately go back to your previous work of cleaning him, knowing that whatever he says will only be argued with a firm answer you no doubt have ready to fire at him. He understands you, though, because if the situation was switched and you were in his position, he knows his head wouldn’t be in the right frame of mind, either. Neteyam would be imagining different scenarios where you’d ended up worse, more injured, or even... If he didn’t like to think about it, he couldn’t imagine the feeling of going through it, and you did, every time he went out with the war party. You didn’t know what condition he was going to be coming back to you in... you didn’t know if he was going to be coming back.

Neteyam understood.

So, rather than biting back, the Na’vi instead smiled down at your working figure, pure love shining bright in his eyes as he watched your concentration prevail through your hurried movements, your gentle fingers, your narrowed eyes. Everything about you was so beautiful to Neteyam, even when you were surrounded in a crowded room by others who didn’t deserve to witness such a sight. He couldn’t believe his luck of getting to call you his own.

While you work, moving one of your hands back in the direction of his wound, you feel it get snatched away. You look up at Neteyam, about to tell him off for not letting you work, when you watch him place a firm, tender kiss against your knuckles, his eyes never once leaving your own.

You can feel yourself blush profusely at his actions, tilting your head to the side subconsciously as he only smirks at your reaction - he always knew the best ways to get you right in the palm of his hands. Instead of previously wanting to reprimand him, your words are but a murmur when you speak, eyes continuously flickering from his eyes to somewhere behind him in order to distract yourself. “I’m trying to concentrate, ‘teyam.”

His heart is full, ready to burst, when he hears your nickname for him, something he loves from only a select few people, with you being right at the top. Keeping your hand in his own, his thumb beginning to run smoothly where he kissed you against your knuckles, he chuckles at your attempt to stay focused. “I know,” he nods lightly, eyes bright and fangs pointed in bliss. “That’s why I kissed you - you look adorable when you concentrate.”

As soon as the words left his lips, your head sharply snapped back over to him, irises blown wide, ears high upon your head and tail curling in on itself from the compliment. No matter how many times he’d talk to you in such a way, or did certain things that made you feel all mushy inside, it’d always gain the same reaction from you. And, he loved it.

You plaster on a playfully annoyed expression, trying to fight the smile dancing at your lips. Chuckling, you shake your head. “Do you want me to help you, or not?”

He laughs, breathless, tongue flicking out and running along his fangs as his eyes make a point of looking over every inch of your figure. It makes you cower in on yourself, and this time, you allow your lips to curve at the edges. Neteyam doesn’t say anything in return, just shrugs mindlessly like he hadn’t been internally torturing you beforehand, letting you get back on with healing your future mate.

Not once does he move his gaze away from such a beautiful sight.

Your hands moved in a hurried motion, eagerness and anticipation beginning to eat away at you. You moved from one side of your tent to the other, the empty space allowing you to rush around without having to worry about bumping into or getting on your parent’s nerves. The both of them would be out all day - your mother spending the day with the younger Na’vi in your clan, and your father helping out with training the soon-to-be warriors.

With the day ahead seeming so empty, you had decided to take it upon yourself to go out into the vast forests of Pandora and collect some fruit for your family. Foraging was something you always enjoyed, ever since your mother took you out for the first time. There was something about just carelessly exploring the lush greenery whilst stumbling upon something new - it brought you happiness and peacefulness.

Of course, you couldn’t go out there unprotected, making sure to stop by your mat where you kept your bow and arrows and tying them around yourself. Going out into the forest alone wasn’t uncommon, but it was something the clan didn’t like to do often. However, you did - just for the tranquillity of being alone for a little while when you were constantly surrounded by the hustle and bustle of so many people at once. You knew there was always going to be a chance of you running into something dangerous whilst you were out there, so, to calm the nerves of your friends and family after finding out about your little lonesome adventures, you assured them you’d always take a weapon with you.

Sighing, you stood tall, looking around your tent then to your body, making sure you were definitely prepared before setting off for the day. You looped your mother’s empty basket through one arm, hoping to be full to the brim with an array of fruits by the time you returned in a few hours, your bow was tucked over your neck and hanging against your shoulders, and your arrows were placed firmly upon your back, ready for their use. You just hoped you wouldn’t have to resort to using them.

With a nod of your head, you turn around, beginning to walk out the entrance of your tent. You kept your eyes trained to the floor, hanging your head low so as not to bump it against anything and have an embarrassing story to talk about later on, when you ended up bumping your entire body into something anyway.

You gasped in surprise at the sudden sensation, the solid material in front of you hitting against you fairly harshly. Stumbling on your feet, you were sure you would’ve fallen down like a sack, but your saving grace came in the form of two hands, gentle yet rough in texture, catching onto your upper arms, wrapping their fingers against your biceps.

Looking up, you spotted Neteyam. The morning sun hit against his back, painting him in an ethereal glow, and you swore you had never seen anything so glorious in all your life on Pandora. He had a cheeky smile on his lips, eyes roving over your features, his hands still holding tightly onto you - he knew you were steady on your feet now, but he simply didn’t want to let you go.

When you made eye contact with Neteyam, you were so entranced, you couldn’t look away. The way his eyes caught against the light began to suck you in until you were his entirely, no one and nothing else mattered in the world because Neteyam was right here, looking at you. The close proximity between the two of you made the heat rise against your cheeks, painting you in a darker blue, but your eyes never strayed from his. How could you, when he looked like this? You could feel his breath fan against your face, the feeling sending shivers to your skin.

“Hi,” he said, voice low and teasing, that stupid smile never once leaving his lips as he looked down at you like you were some sort of prey and he the predator.

“Hi,” you whispered, voice sultry and soft, struggling to find the correct words to say to him due to your stuttering heart and how close you were, feeling every slight move he made against your own body. “What are you doing here?” You were happy to see him, but confused by his presence - you knew he had training with his father early that morning (part of the reason why you decided to go out), and if he was here with you now, you were sure he was going to end up being late, something Neteyam did once in a blue moon.

He shrugged carelessly, like he didn’t have a care in the world. “I wanted to say good morning.”

You look up at him expectantly, waiting, but when he only continued to look at you adoringly, you narrow your eyes in confusion. “Are you going to say it...?” Your words are still a whisper, but this time, there’s a teasing lilt to them as you watch his smile grow wider when he realises his mistake.

Neteyam began to laugh at your sudden cheekiness, something you didn’t do often but he absolutely cherished, silently wishing to himself that you did it more. Maybe he’d just have to do things like this a little more. “Good morning, yawne (beloved).” As he spoke, he leant down towards you, giving your cheek a feather-light kiss, you had to run the sensation over in your mind again. When he pulled back, you couldn’t hold his eye contact, too flustered to look up at him, knowing that if you did, your cheeks would only continue to darken from their original colour. Neteyam found it endearing, smile so bright his fangs were pointing out, before eventually spotting your attire. “Going hunting?”

“Foraging,” you corrected him, lifting the basket higher on your arms to accentuate your point. Your heart finally finds the confidence to look up into his intense gaze, swelling with both care and devotion. “I need to get some more fruits.”

At your admittance, Neteyam’s entire demeanour lights up at an opportunity beginning to present itself right in front of his very eyes - his ears stand high upon his head, eyes shining and tail elevated, anticipation peeking through his system. “I can get them for you if you want.”

You swoon at his eagerness to help you, the domestic part of Neteyam showing itself off to you. If it were any other time, you would’ve gladly took him up on the offer, loving the idea of spending more time with him despite truly believing your heart would explode if he continued to look at you like you were Ewya herself. But, you knew Neteyam was important to your clan, even before he was to become Olo’eyktan - you couldn’t keep him from his duties, from his purpose.

(Neteyam would strongly argue that you were his purpose.)

“‘Teyam,” you start gently, hate having to turn him down when his features slowly start to fall. A sympathetic smile lingers against your lips, head tilted to the side but your eyes spoke more than your words could convey. “You have training with your father...” you find your eyes trailing your surroundings at your reminder, instantly spotting Jake in the near distance behind your future mate. He stands tall, proud, but you can tell he’s only moments away from calling his son out as he eyes him up, impatient. “...who is right over there and definitely does not want you to be late.”

In an instant, Neteyam’s head shoots around to follow your gaze, a grumble slipping past his parted lips when he spots his father. Like a child, he hangs his head low in defeat, allowing it to fall against your shoulder when he turns back around. He lets his weight bear down on you teasingly, chuckling through his chest at your struggled attempts to stay steady on your feet.

You pat his chest in mock sympathy, giggling to yourself as he only continues to be his dramatic self, head nestling closer into the space between your shoulder and neck. But, when he begins to press kisses against your skin, you tense up, feeling your spine straighten out and eyes look around for anyone watching.

His father continues to glower at his eldest son, hands on his hips and shaking his head, obviously disgruntled. “Neteyam,” you warn, patting his chest again, a little harsher this time, more so in warning. Neteyam doesn’t seem to care, however, only continuing on his journey as he travels his lips from your shoulder to the crevasse of your neck. “’Teyam, your father-”

“Neteyam!” Jake’s voice is loud and clear, piercing through the clan until it makes its way to the two of you. In an instant, Neteyam jumps up and detaches himself from your shoulder. You look over his broad shoulder, seeing his father beginning to storm his way over. A harsh, fast-paced kiss is placed roughly against the side of your face, before you watch Neteyam run sheepishly over to his father, not wanting him to make a big scene. When your future mate arrives at his father’s side, the older Na’vi grabs his son against the back of the neck, forcefully pulling him further away from you before the guides of Ewya could will him back to you.

You can’t help but chuckle at their antics - the more time you spent with the Sully family, the more excited you felt at the prospect of finally being a part of them. Of course, they’d argue that you were already an honorary Sully, just from being betrothed to one of them, but you knew it’d be entirely different when you finally mated with Neteyam.

Shaking your head, you noticed a few stares sent your way from the scene Neteyam had previously created before leaving you to deal with it. The only response you could give them without wanting the ground to swallow you whole was a sheepish smile, before securing your basket tight against your chest and running off into the forest.

The rest of the day went by quicker than you had imagined - you were simply so emerged in the beauty of the forest around you that time seemed infinite, like it was laying in the palm of your hands for you to do whatever you pleased with it. And, you did - you spent majority of your time marvelling at the pure life around you, the way everything seemed to pulse like it had its own heartbeat, and you liked to imagine that it did. After all, this was all apart of Ewya, too.

You had managed to collect a good amount of fruits, filling your basket almost to the top with a variety of tastes and colours to show off to your parents. Walking back into the clan, your chest swelled with pride at the few gratifying looks you were receiving from your collection, but you were also feeling proud of yourself for not having to use your weapon, either. Whether it was just your good intuition, or Ewya herself guiding you in a direction to ensure your safety, you steered clear of any potential threats that could’ve been lurking around the corner, waiting for the perfect moment to pounce. Either way, you were grateful you never ran into anything.

Arguably, you were a good hunter, someone who could hold their own if they needed to, but you weren’t entirely confident in your skills enough to fight off something bigger than you if its intentions were to kill you. You’d never had to fight against such a creature, thanks to adventuring out with others that knew what they were doing, or going to specific places you knew would be okay for you. Plus, there was something about killing the creatures of Pandora that didn’t sit right with you - after all, they were also children of Ewya. Of course, you understood the clan had to eat in order to survive, and if you were being attacked, no Na’vi would judge another if they needed to defend themselves or their family. That’s why you were always the one to volunteer to collect the fruits out of your family, enjoying that particular experience more. It also helped that you received offer’s from Neteyam’s family - and Neteyam, especially - to share the meat they had hunted. You could turn down the meats his family offered you, arguing that it was for them, but you couldn’t disagree with Neteyam - what’s mine is yours.

Nodding to another Na’vi who had done the same to you in a small gesture of congratulations, your cheeks hurting from the prideful smile against your lips, you hadn’t spotted the figure rushing to jog over to your moving figure until they stop at your side. You already know it’s Neteyam - not from the sight of him, but from the presence of him. His scent infiltrates your scenes immediately and his aura oozes itself around you, enshrouding you in a protective layer.

How your knees haven’t buckled out from swooning will always be beyond you.

No words are able to leave your mouth before Neteyam takes the basket from your hands, relieving your lower back from the pressure it was previously feeling with the weight of the fruits. He holds it firmly in his grasp, matching your pace as he walks beside you, taking note of the amount you collected before his gaze lands on you. “How was it?”

You don’t bother arguing against his wishes of holding the basket for you, knowing it would only be a losing battle if you tried. Instead, you allowed your heart to flutter wildly in your chest as it begged for release, wanting to cover Neteyam in all the love it had to offer. Your head tilts in affection as your features coo. “It was good - I managed to get quite a bit.”

He hums in acknowledgement, eyes hurriedly scanning over your figure from top to bottom. His gaze makes you feel warm, but you know he’s checking you over for any potential injuries. “You didn’t run into any trouble?”

“Nope,” you state proudly, beaming like a child would with a new accomplishment. “I’m too good at sneaking.”

A laugh tumbles from his stomach at your answer, embellishing in the way you proudly stand and tell him of your day’s achievements. This is what he’s always wanted - the two of you, talking about your day and everything in between, before finally coming back together to rest for the night.

All he’s ever wanted was you.

With only one of his hands now holding onto your full basket, he brings his other up to grab hold of your arm, stopping you in your tracks. When you turn to face him, your smile slowly begins to fall from your lips at the seriousness in his gaze. Only when he cups your face in his larger palm do you soften, features lighting up once more. “You did well, my muntxa (mate).”

The nickname makes you bite your lips to stop you giving away your true feelings, but you know Neteyam, and you know he knows you inside and out, like you were his other half - because you were. Snuggling your face further into his palm, you stand higher on your toes, wanting to bring him closer despite the rapid beating of your heart. “Not yet...” you remind him.

He hums in acknowledgement, but doesn’t say anything more. Rather, he presses a light kiss against your forehead, his lips lingering there for a while longer, like he didn’t want to part from you in such an intimate way. As he stays there, his lips ghosting over your skin, he whispers an almost-inaudible soon. The implication makes you shudder in delight, feeling him separate away from you, now intertwining his hand in your own and gesturing his head for you to follow him.

Soon.

Tonight was a normal night within the clan, although it somehow seemed more alive.

Every night, the people of the Omatikaya would come together to celebrate the day’s achievements, even if nothing too celebratory had happened. It brought a semblance of togetherness that you couldn’t get anywhere else - one you wouldn’t trade for the world.

You could hear the hustle and bustle of many Na’vi even from the tent furthest away from the main area, your body filling with brimming excitement already at the prospect of everyone being there. You weren’t a huge fan of crowds, but growing older had taught you to appreciate such a feeling - these people were your family, after all, and with such an impending war knocking upon your doorstep too often than you were comfortable with, you learned to enjoy what you have already, before it was too late.

Training with the Tsahik had increased tenfold in the last couple of months - you were working from sunrise until sunset alongside Mo’at and Kiri, aiding them in their tasks and ensuring you were close to knowing everything off by heart. Eventually, you would be taking over, with Neteyam at your side as Olo’eyktan. It wasn’t long until the two of you would finally be mated before Ewya, and whilst it would still be a while until you stepped forward as leaders, there would always be more preparing to do. As a mated pair, the clan would slowly start looking to the two of you.

With such a pressure lingering upon your shoulders, you began to make your way through the main crowd, leaving behind your duties in their wake and allowing yourself a moment to breathe. There were Na’vi everywhere, no matter what direction your gaze trailed to; smiles adorning each face, tails high in elation and chatter loud in excitement. There was a large woven table to the side that held the hunting party’s food they had caught during that morning’s hunt, piles high of fruits and meats that had your stomach growling in anticipation. You hadn’t had time to eat much when training, your mind too focused on remembering every little detail shown before you.

But, you couldn’t help your own smile beginning to dawn upon your lips as you attempted to make your way past people at the sight of their happiness. For a moment, it almost felt like there wasn’t a raging war so close to home, ready to kill you all just to say they had won.

You shook your head at such a thought, willing it away from your head and forcing yourself to enjoy the moment before you. There were several people you accidentally bumped into on the way past, your mind foggy as it searched for someone, but no one was too bothered, too caught up in the blissful atmosphere lingering within the air.

Eyes trailing over every figure you came across, you struggled to spot a single Sully. You stepped higher onto the ends of your toes, head poking out over the tops of other’s heads in an attempt to locate them, but you kept coming up short. It was obvious they would be here, of course - they were the Sully family, the leaders of your clan, and if they didn’t make an appearance at just a regular gathering such at this one, you knew they’d be more panic around you.

Thankfully, before you could be swallowed by the crowd and lost to the world around you, a hand clasped itself securely within your own, fingers intertwining together. The feeling of his hand against yours caused your brain waves to kilter off edge, the rough but warm sensation of his palm meeting your own so similar to home.

When you look up at him, Neteyam’s happiness is evident upon his features, grin broad and so unbelievably handsome-looking. Before you can get too caught up in him, him, him, he nods his head in the direction behind him, where you guess his family had set themselves up. He doesn’t take his hand away from your own, keeping a strong grip against you to ensure he doesn’t lose you, leading you through the crowd until you come up to his family.

They’re all already seated comfortably together, Lo’ak, Kiri and Tuk already eating away to their heart’s desires whilst Jake prepares the food for himself and his mate. Upon seeing your breathless figure, they greet you with smiles and nods in your direction, never surprised to see you with Neteyam anymore as they used to be. The bond between the two of you was only growing stronger as the days tilted by, the time dwindling down before you were mated and you truly became a Sully. His family were your family.

Neteyam’s arm is almost forcefully ripped away from your own when a much smaller body crashes into you. Tuk, in all her pure and giddy glory, has her arms wrapped strongly around the tops of your legs, her height not allowing her to go any higher. Her chin rests against your legs, looking up at you with her deer-like eyes and the biggest smile you have ever seen. The sight has you melting.

“Hi, Tuk,” you greet her softly, bringing your hand up to gently caress the top of her head. She giggles at the sensation, lightly hopping up and down on her feet. Whilst you were definitely close with Neteyam’s family - more so Kiri, than anyone else, due to the amount of time you spend together - Tuk would always be your favourite. You looked to her like she was your little sister, and you hoped that one day she’d look at you like her older one. The idea of having someone as adorable as Tuk look up to you, feeling comfortable enough to come to you should she ever need to, was heart-warming.

“Tuk!” Neytiri called, her tone harsh but understanding as she beckoned her youngest child back over to her, watching her bound away from you and back into her mother’s arms.

You laugh quietly to yourself at the sight, finally making your way to the free seat next to Neteyam. When your comfortable enough, you go to reach over for the contents already splayed out before you, but a soft slap against the back of your hand has you recoiling away. Next to you, Neteyam reaches for everything you’d need, already beginning to do it for you.

He doesn’t look at you, although you know he can feel your gaze zoning in on his every movement - he’s too busy concentrating on making sure everything’s perfect for you, even if you are going to devour it just moments after receiving it. Your heart flutters like a swarming butterfly and you’re positive your cheeks are starting to redden as they blush. You don’t say anything to him, knowing it’s an argument you won’t be able to win - instead, you continue to watch with hearts evident within your eyes, a faint, loving smile present on your lips.

It’s then you remember you’re not completely alone, too caught up in Neteyam. When you look up at the family surrounding you, you instantly spot his parents’ gazes already trained on the two of you - Neytiri’s expression is fond, whilst Jake’s is most definitely teasing.

Whether he can begin to sense your slight unease at being caught, you’re not sure, but Jake decides to speak up, hands moving subconsciously as he now starts to prepare his own food after giving the finished one to his mate. “So, y/n,” he starts, “how is Tsahik training going?”

You briefly look back over to Neteyam next to you, biting back a smile as you allow him to continue his work - his eyes are narrowed in on making everything flawless, making sure it’s exactly how you’d like it. Turning back to Jake, you offer him a nod, breathing out. “It is good - there are a few things I’m still struggling with, but the Tsahik believes I just need to continue with my training before I am able to do it with my eyes closed.”

Shrugging at the end of your admittance, you let out a sheepish laugh, almost a little embarrassed. Tsahik training is hard - no one ever said it was going to be easy, especially when you would be guiding the clan spiritually through Ewya, helping them heal and celebrate important ceremonies. But, you know you don’t have anything to be embarrassed by for several reasons - Neytiri understands from her brief time of training alongside her mother before mating with Jake, but this is also Neteyam’s family, your family, who have never once stopped to judge you for a single thing. In fact, you’re sure they’ve only ever supported you through the things you do, because now you’re as much they’re daughter as Kiri and Tuk.

“You will be an amazing Tsahik, y/n.” Neytiri speaks up, clearly noticing your hidden embarrassment and wanting to ease your worries. Tuk is still in her lap, happily chomping away at her food as her mother braids her hair. Her smile is doting, motherly. “The clan already loves you.”

The compliment from your mother-in-law only causes more embarrassment to flood through you, feeling yourself slowly begin to curl in on yourself. The love you were receiving not only from the family, but also from the rest of the clan, helped ease your tensions, but you never really took to taking such praise well. You appreciated it like any other Na’vi did, but sometimes you struggled to show a natural reaction, becoming slightly uncomfortable. That was something you would have to work on - the Tsahik couldn’t be embarrassed.

Your tail had previously nestled itself against your side when Neytiri complimented you, shying away from the attention, but it began to perk up suddenly when Neteyam lay a kind hand against your shoulder. His thumb was absentmindedly rubbing soothing circles against your skin - you didn’t know whether it was in his natural persona to do so, subconscious taking over, or whether he took notice of your change in demeanour, but either way, it calmed you.

Looking at his other hand, you can see your prepared food, wrapped neatly together and gesturing for you to take it. With a grateful smile sent his way, you do so, speaking softly. “Thank you, ‘teyam.”

His grin is wide as he looks down at you. “You do not need to thank me, narlor (beautiful).” Heat passes over your cheeks when he calls you beautiful, the sincerity behind his eyes showing you how much he means it. You try your best to focus on your food when his attention doesn’t waver away from you, the warmth of his gaze piercing into your skin and making your entire being feel all tingly. Despite taking note of your attempt to shutter yourself away from him, taking a bite of the food and savouring every mouth-watering flavour it has to offer you, Neteyam is relentless - the same hand that was formerly rubbing against the top of your shoulder now snakes around the back of your neck, bringing you further into his side and pressing a tender kiss against the side of your temple. His lips linger hotly against your skin when he pulls away. “I would hunt down the most ravishing creatures and prepare the most delicious meals just for you, muntxate (wife).”

For a moment, you know nothing else but him - the way his eyes bore into yours completely, unseeing of anything else going on around you; the way his breaths steady with each one, like you bring a sense of calmness to his very being; the way his hand doesn’t move from its place against you, like doing so would cause him extreme pain. You’re sure you can feel your heart soar to the sky when he calls you his muntxate (wife), never wanting to hear him call you anything else ever again. You’ve been down the road before - Neteyam has been calling you his mate boldly as of late - but hearing him call you his wife, such domesticity has you feeling completely brand new, like you could conquer the world, face the most dangerous beast and win, just to come home and see him smiling at you like you hung the stars in the night sky.

You’re scared it’s obvious that your tears are beginning to show against the line of your eyes, a nervous but oh-so adoring chuckle escaping your parted lips. Neteyam brings you foreheads together, the heat of his skin sending waves of the temperature into your own, his hand still clasped firmly against the back of your neck, and you notice his eyes never once falter from their stare into your own. There’s so much love, so much devotion and worship in his gaze, you can’t believe for just one brief moment in your past, you had thought Neteyam wouldn’t want you to call his own. It’s clear to you now that he’s only ever saw you.

So suddenly you’re brought out of your reverie when you hear a gagging sound coming from the direction of your other side. Reluctantly pulling away from Neteyam, you spot Lo’ak pretending to throw up the contents of his meal, no doubt having seen the intimate moment between his older brother and yourself. In any other instance, the embarrassment would be clawing away at you - and, you won’t deny the little semblance of it still making its way to the forefront - but the endearment you held for Neteyam in that moment, when you truly saw how much you meant to one another, overrides anything else. You laugh at your younger brother figure, looking up at Neteyam with nothing but comfort and passion in your eyes, watching as he rolls his eyes and shakes his head at such dramatics. But, he doesn’t pull away - no, he keeps you closer.

Another sound is brought forward to your senses - this time it’s Neytiri, smacking the back of her youngest son’s head, her words a hushed scolding. You faintly hear her tell him that someday soon, that will be him and his own mate, but the voices drown out when your attention is pulled back to Neteyam. He’s not looking at you this time, rather he’s laughing at his brother’s grumbling of having to put up being like Neteyam, and as your eyes drown in everything he has to offer, you realise the whole world had started to disappear, until all you see is him.

After a long day spent with the younger Na’vi within your clan, you’re finally finding the time to slip away and relax. Your time had been filled up with helping teach the children different aspects that Pandora had to offer before they go their separate ways and start heavily training on what they wish to do in order to provide for the clan - whether that be foraging, hunting, healer, weaving... You and a few others had taken the children out into the forests, showing them the plants, the fauna, the creatures, the life that constantly emanated around them.

This was arguably one of your most favourite things to do - teaching the children the way of Ewya was such a beautiful experience when you got to witness their eyes light up in awe, fascination cleaving at each and every one of them, wanting to know more, to explore more. Spending time with them made your heart grow fonder, the images conjuring in your mind of the day that yourself and Neteyam get to do such things with your own children. You’re still unsure as to how many you’d like, but you know that Neteyam would be the best father, without a shadow of a doubt.

Such thoughts stay lingering within the corners of your mind, unrelenting in their leave and it has the corners of your lips turning up in a subtle smirk. The walk from the tent you had just visited after dropping off the last child wasn’t such a distance from your own, and you couldn’t stop the sigh of relief breathing through you when you spotted it. Already, you were picturing yourself laying down in the comfort of your mat, eyes closed as the worries slowly start to slip away, your dreamland beginning to take to the forefront of you mind.

Lately, your dreams had only been filled with Neteyam, and you wondered what else they’d have you thinking about that night. The time of your bonding with Neteyam was just around the corner now, on the precipice to being the next chapter in your life, and both nervousness and excitement filled your entire being. You wanted it to be special, you wanted to be everything Neteyam ever wanted in a mate, and that’s where your nerves started. But, the moment you thought of them, they were shut down by your excitement - you knew Neteyam, and with the way he had been treating you all this time was only further evidence to how much he cared about you. You truly didn’t have anything to worry about.

“Y/n!” Your name pierces through the clan, senses heightened when you recognise the voice, such a sound being the cause of your craned eyes and elevated tail, like they had a life of their own and were looking forward to seeing him, too. You stop in front of your tent, watching as Neteyam slowly jogs his way over to you, his hands hidden behind his back.

“Hi, ‘teyam,” you greet him, an affectionate smile playing against your lips.

He sends you one back, but this one falters a little towards the end, like he’s unsure of yourself. It has you feeling nervous again, but this time, the nerves are understandable - he’s beginning to fidget from foot to foot, nodding to himself as though he’s telling himself everything’s going to be okay. “Hey,” he replies, voice low and quiet, so unlike the Neteyam you’re used to. One of his hands points towards your tent behind you, still keeping the other one hidden away from your prying eyes. “Can we talk inside for a moment?”

Such words only make you feel worse, so many jumbled thoughts and suspicions bouncing from one side of your intrigued mind to the next, concocting different possible outcomes of what could be the source of his anxiety. You repeatedly tell yourself that it can’t be anything too damaging - after everything the two of you have been through together, even before finding out you were to be mated, it’s practically impossible to pull you apart, now. Without yet being mated, you know the two of you are bonded for life, and nothing can ever come in between that. Still, a small part of yourself feeds off his apprehension and you can’t help but wonder if going inside your tent with him will change the course of your life as you know it.

With a tense smile, trying your best to muster up the courage and pretend that he’s not worrying you, you nod, moving towards the entrance. Neteyam’s quick with his movements - instantly, the flap is pulled open for you, his hands holding back the fabric and allowing you to usher yourself inside. That’s a good sign, you tell yourself - if he’s treating you like this still, whatever he wants to talk about can’t be too bad, right? Unless he’s being a gentleman so the idea of tearing you down doesn’t seem as harsh.

You walk over to your mat, placing yourself down in a hurry, looking up at Neteyam and gesturing for him to do the same. He does so, and his body movements of sitting down opposite you are stiff, too. You notice his hand still firmly placed behind his back. Suddenly, the air feels uncomfortable, too much to bare as it continues to envelop you more, his worry stifling every one of your senses. Sucking in a breath, you let out a nervous laugh, hoping to ease the tension, wanting to get it over with in the chance it’s something bad. “’Teyam, you’re worrying me.”

As soon as you speak, he’s on alert - his head shoots up to you, finally able to properly look at you directly, his pupils blown wide. Tension steadily starts to dissipate from his figure, a brittle chuckle parting from his lips as he shakes his head slightly. “I’m sorry, I do not mean to worry you, it’s just...” he pauses, takes a big breath like he’s preparing himself for something monumental and steadies himself. “I made something for you.”

The strain of believing Neteyam was going to be telling you bad news disperses and it’s like it was never there in the first place. You feel your ears wiggle as they come to understand exactly what he said, your tail swaying back and forth in anticipation. “For me?”

He breathes out a soft laugh, eyes lighting up at how adorable you look to him. “Of course, am I courting someone else?”

It’s like the nervous Neteyam has completely disappeared, and finally you’re looking at the one you know and love - the Neteyam that is brave, and proud; the Neteyam that enjoys teasing you just to get a shy reaction out you; the Neteyam that can’t help but be sarcastic despite being a nervous wreck just moments beforehand. You hate the way he teases you, and yet you love it at the same time. You shake your head at his sarcasm, in slight disbelief at how he had managed to change his demeanour in the matter of a split second, a velvet-like giggle breaking out before you have the chance to force it back in. Now, he knows he’s got you right where he wants you.

Slowly, with both precision and care, he moves his hand from behind his back, palm outstretched and showing off what he has to offer you. Your eyes land on a beautifully woven necklace, all different colours, shapes and sizes of beads and feathers and small intricacies tied all into place to make it perfect. It’s completely caught your attention, and you can’t seem to train your focus away from it. Subconsciously, your hand covers your mouth, smile wide and tears beginning to brim along your waterline. “Oh, ‘teyam. It’s beautiful.”

He brings himself closer to you, body shifting over until you’re now sat side by side, legs touching. He holds the necklace delicately in his hand still, bringing it further into the light to show it off, to show you how it looks in its true element. A beam plays at his lips now that he’s finally at ease, seeing the way you look so adoringly upon the object, so intense and ethereal it surely can’t be real.

With a slight shake to his hand, he points to one of the beads, a watercolour blue that glistens when it shines perfectly against the light. “This bead is to represent when we first met - when you tripped and fell into the water.”

The memory comes back to you so quickly, it felt as though it happened just yesterday. You had been stood by the water, so close your toes were tipping in to the cool liquid, watching the fish as they swam in their habitat, blissfully happy and fascination clear on your features. Neteyam had unintentionally snuck up on you, scaring the life out of you as you fell into the water in surprise. Instantly, Neteyam felt bad, helping you out of the water and making sure you were fine, but as time went on, Neteyam loved to casually bring it up in conversation, if only to tease you.

You playfully smacked his arm, features recoiling before gasping out at his remark. “I did not trip - you scared me!”

He laughs, eyes imploring straight into yours, and you can see the hearts filled lovingly within them. Shaking his head, he bites back his smile, moving onto the next one, this one a darker brown, almost rusty in colour with different edges of tones. “This one is to represent the time when I started to help you with your bow.” As another memory filters through your mind’s eye, of two younger looking Na’vi practicing in the midst of the forest on how to correctly aim, you start to realise that this necklace your future mate had made for you is personal. He didn’t choose these specific ornaments just based on their beautiful colours or their variety of textures... he’d chosen them to portray each pleasing moment you had spent together, right from the very beginning. Your attention doesn’t falter, eyes trailing slowly from the necklace up to him, watching as he continues to talk through each one; so in his element, so in love. “This is a feather I found that looks similar to the colour of your ikran, and this one is supposed to represent when I asked to court you-”

You couldn’t help yourself - his voice was drowning in your ears, a ringing sensation taking over until silence deafened you and there was nothing else important in the world. Whilst he’s still speaking, you take his face gently within your grasp, holding onto both sides of his face, turning him to you and smashing your lips against his own. You kiss him passionately, as though it was the last one you may ever share together. It isn’t usually you who initiates moments like this one, but the more he spoke about every moment you shared together, concocting them and making them into something you’ll wear for the rest of your life proudly, all you wanted to do was show him how much the gesture meant to you, how much he meant to you.

When you eventually pull back, your lips linger against one another, breaths mingling together. You press another soft kiss to his lips, thumbs absentmindedly rubbing the apples of his cheeks. Looking up at him, you watch as his eyes start to open slowly, dazed, hazy, in love. A grin rests along your features at having been able to get him so drunk on you in such a way. “Nga yawne lu oer, Neteyam (I love you, Neteyam),” you breathe out, pecking his lips again, even lighter this time. “Oel ngati kameie (I see you).”

A vast smile is obvious upon his features now, uncontainable, but it wasn’t like he wanted to contain it anyway. For as long as the two of you were together, he’d show off all of himself to you, no matter the circumstance. Such a sight before you - all for you - has your heart fluttering. Neteyam presses his head impossibly closer to your own, trying his hardest for the two of you to become one, kneading his face against your own, wanting his scent to be all over you, for everyone to know that you belong to him. “You have no idea how much you mean to me, yawne (beloved), and how eager I am to finally be all yours.”

Your cheeks are hurting from how happy you appear, but there’s so much love being shared between the two of you, you simply don’t care. “And, I cannot wait to be yours, muntxa (mate).”

It’s the first time you’ve admittedly called him your mate - after all this time, it’s usually him to call you such a name. But, seeing him today, presenting you with a gift of such beautifully personal memories, you finally give into yourself. Even if it is still some time before the two of you mate as one before the eyes of Ewya, but all in all, Neteyam te Suli Tsyeyk’itan will always be your mate.

A laugh bubbles in the back of his throat at finally hearing you call him such a name, pearly fangs on full display as the two of you show off your eagerness to come together as one - of how much you care for one another, how much you yearn for one another.

You truly cannot wait to be all his, because there was no doubt in your mind that Neteyam was always the one for you.

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kasagia · 5 months ago

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His mortal saviour

Pairing: Aleksander Morozova/The Darkling x otkazat’sya!fem! reader Summary: You saved him. You took him from under the fold and healed him when he was in his most vulnerable state. He doesn't know you; he's hostile and distrustful of you, so he naturally runs away at the first possible opportunity. But somehow, he can't just walk away from you. Word Count: around 6k Anonymous requested this a looong time ago (in January). So sorry honey!!!! Hope you will enjoy! 🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤 Taglist: @aoi-targaryen @il0vebeingdelulu @chelseyyouraverageluigi @watersquirtpewpewboomm @summersummoner-pat Aleksander Morozova's Masterlist ~•♤♤♤•~ Main Masterlist

He woke up feeling numb.

He had never felt so... paralysed in his entire life. It was as if the use of all his limbs had been taken away from him. And he didn't like that at all.

He expected him to be in the centre of the fold, with the volcra circling around him. However, as consciousness returned to him, he became more aware of his surroundings.

The first thing he felt was warmth. The warmth, which wasn't at all in the fold. He shuddered and remembered how the cold had penetrated his body even more the moment the volcra's claws had dug into his face.

Then he felt the softness of the mattress beneath his back instead of the hardness of the sandy, packed soil. Further evidence proving that he was entirely somewhere else was the sound of soft footsteps and humming a few feet away from him.

He opened his eyes hesitantly and hissed, unaccustomed to the light after being unconscious for so long.

He freezes as he feels a hand on his eyes, keeping the sunlight from reaching them. Little. Soft. Alina... a thought comes to him, and he quickly laughs it off. His little sun summoner would probably rather blind him completely with her sun than protect him from more pain.

"Take it easy. You've been badly harmed." A soft female voice breaks the silence and pulls him from his thoughts about the woman who betrayed him and their kind.

He feels a strange rush of fear as he hears a female voice. Aleksander unwillingly recalls the memory of the time when he and his mother were captured by the Drüskelle. He felt like he did now. Helpless.

He was unable to move even a small distance on his own. The only difference was that no one was hanging over him with scalpels and other blades or hurling insults. But he suspected that could change very quickly...

He had to do something. He needed to get out of here somehow, but every slight movement of his muscles was accompanied by a huge wave of searing pain throughout his whole body. And for a brief moment, it occurred to him that maybe destroying the fold wasn't such a bad idea.

"Don't worry. I am not a psychopath, mad, serial killer, or anything. I'm a nurse. I saw you near the fold and took you to my house to heal you. It's a miracle you survived your encounter with the volcra. Usually, no one gets out of the fold. Certainly not on their own." The woman says, slowly removing her hand from his eyes.

He's too dazed by the light, busy taking in his surroundings and seeing her face for the first time, to notice that she's adjusting the bandages on his face and checking his wounds.

But he hisses, feeling the burning pain on his forehead as she rubs some thick, gooey liquid onto him.

"I'm sorry, but I have to. It's an ointment against infection. This should also numb you enough so that you don't feel any pain in your face. How's your back?"

He is too shocked to respond. As he takes a breath, he has a sudden coughing fit. She moves away from him. He hears her quick footsteps as she returns a moment later with a cup of water and a tissue. He spits something black out of his mouth, desperately trying to get some air. She strokes his back gently and leans him more forward, making him spit out all the black goo mixed with his saliva from his throat.

He frowns, staring at the tissue soaked in black liquid.

"Don't worry, it's absolutely normal. Every time they bring a survivor from the fold to the infirmary, something like this happens. The air is different there, and volcra tend to infect their victims. Let's just say it's some kind of poison that comes out of you. That's a good sign. As well as the fact that you woke up. Here." The woman says, taking the tissue from him and throwing it into a nearby trash can. He glances there, seeing that it is half full of black dressings and bandages. He looks back at her as she hands him a glass of water.

"What do you want?" He asks, his voice hoarse from disuse (or screaming in the fold), not taking a sip from the cup you gave him. It could be poisoned or worse.

"I... I don't understand." You say, confused by his hostile attitude.

"What do you want from me?" He repeats it again, and the commanding, demanding tone of his voice sends shivers down your spine.

"Nothing. I'm just helping." You reply with a shrug, which annoys him even more. He laughs mockingly, making you frown.

"Selflessly? To a stranger? Don't make me look like a naive idiot. Tell me right now who you are, what you want, and where we are, and you won't get hurt."

"With all due respect, I doubt you'd be able to raise your hand right now, let alone hold a gun or sword, or hit me, even if you were a soldier of the First Army." He stares at you in surprise, realising that you have no idea who he is, and maybe you really just helped him.

Could a normal person dare to speak back to the Darkling with such courage and anger in her eyes? He didn't think so. But one name comes to his mind... even though he's too hurt to think about her.

"What?" You ask him as he stares at you for a little too long.

"Nothing." He clears his throat and stares warily at the offered water. "Not many people surprise me." He explains, still not believing in your good intentions. You couldn't be so altruistic as to help a strange man who got spat out by the fold. People weren't kind or helpful to the weak, at least never towards him. That's why he always had to be stronger than others. To never become prey again.

"I see that you don't trust many either. If I pour for myself and you water from one jug and drink it first, will you consider doing the same? You need to rehydrate." You say it calmly, completely unfazed by his distrust.

For some reason, this makes him more surly towards you. Maybe this whole act on your part was just to keep his guard down until someone came for him, for example, Shu, Drüskelle, or even Alina's group of heroes. He had to get away from here. As soon as he regained full control over his aching body.

“Try to deceive me, and I will make sure to wipe out your family lineage to the last living generation.” He growls hoarsely, trying to regain at least some semblance of control in this situation.

"It's good that I'm an orphan then." You say, pouring him and yourself a glass of water and showing him that both are empty.

Another orphan... he thinks as you reach both glasses so he can choose which one he wants.

"Who are you? Where are we?" He asks as he holds a glass in his hand.

You drink your water and set the glass on the nightstand near the bed. Aleksander decides to wait a while before taking a sip himself, to see if the water won't have a strange effect on you and if you haven't poisoned it after all. Although you could have practiced mithradism and been immune to whatever poison you wanted to give him. His head began to hurt more as he considered all the possibilities.

"Y/N Y/L/N. A nurse, as I mentioned earlier. We are in Eastern Ravka, on the border with the fold. More south of Tsemna and closer to the border with Shu Han. And you?"

He hesitates for a moment and doesn't know why, whether it's the headache or the fact that he doesn't want you to catch him in a lie, but he tells you his real name.

"Aleksander." He says, finally deciding to take a sip from his cup. He would always be able to use the cut if there was something wrong with the drink you gave him. You try your best not to smile at that.

"And what are you doing for life, if that's not a secret?" You ask jokingly, but he doesn't seem too eager to lighten his attitude.

He is still tense and looks around carefully, as if waiting for someone to attack him. Your heart hurts at the sight. Something must have happened in his past for him to be on guard all the time. And those scars from the fold... you suspect it wasn't just the volcra that were responsible for them.

"I... create things." He tells half the truth. After all, the fold, the volcra, and his shadows are some kind of... things he created.

"Are you a carpenter? Do you have your own workshop?"

Little Palace. He thinks, but he knows that after what happened in the fold, the tsar probably took this away from him as well.

He shudders to think about how he could have hurt his people. He had to get out of here. And fast. Before more, Grisha got hurt. Because if he knows something, he knows that Alina won't be able to protect them. He tried to walk the path of peace with Lantsov's dynasty, but it never ended well.

All he provided for Grisha—a safe place at the Little Palace, home, food, illusions of freedom thanks to the cessation of Grisha hunting, and much more—was bought with the blood of others. And if he had to be a monster to make sure his people wouldn't suffer like he did and many others have in the past, then so be it.

He would be the worst of them all.

"I have people who create for me and follow my orders and requests." He replies brusquely when you look at him carefully. You sigh, seeing that you won't be able to get through to him until he's sure you really don't have any bad intentions towards him.

"Okay… do you have any family I should write to? Or someone else?" You ask instead, apparently hitting another sore spot as his injured hand grips the cup so hard that the bandages you wrapped around it dig into his skin.

"No... there is no need for that." He says it coldly.

An image of his mother quickly comes to mind, as does the image of Alina, at which he shakes his head. The only two women with whom he allowed himself to be vulnerable and who could hurt him actually did. Without blinking an eye or a moment of hesitation. You probably were the same, and despite your quite tender care, he still wasn't sure if it was true or just an action.

Although if you were meant to capture him, you would at least tie him up so he couldn't summon his shadows. Maybe you really had no idea about his identity...

"I shall leave you to rest then. I have to go to my work." You say as you start to put on your coat.

"You will leave me alone?" He ask. He can't believe that you would really leave him—a strange man you didn't know at all—in your house all alone.

"Do you need a company?" You ask mockingly, using the exact same cold tone of voice he used before. Aleksander decides he liked you much more when you were soft towards him.

"Aren't you afraid I'll rob you and run away?"

"There are only herbs, medicines, and a few books here. I have nothing so valuable that I couldn't get it on the market if you decided to take it. You can look around if you want. Although I wouldn't advise you to get up, your wounds are still fresh and barely sealed, so they don't bleed."

"Are you insane?" He can't help but ask, as you really are going out. His words and utter shock make you giggle, which doesn't make his opinion of you any better.

"All the best people are. Try not to die. It would be a waste of medicines and bandages." You say this and smile amusedly as you close the door behind you.

Aleksander blinks, surprised, as he lays in your bed. He tries to understand what has happened here, but he still has a headache and needs to get out of here.

He didn't trust you at all.

So before anyone could come and get him from you, he stood up. His legs are shaky at the beginning, but as he walks around your (tiny) cottage, he regains the ability to walk… maybe not as well as he did, but enough to move.

He looks around, just as you suggested, but he didn't find any proff that would confirm his suspicion about your bad intentions towards him.. But it doesn't stop him from taking some pills and herbs before he leaves your house. He makes sure to take only a little—enough to get to the village or somewhere where he could find his people.

He decided that you were too kind to be robbed.

The healer who was trying to heal his wounds was surprised at how good their condition was. Virtually cured. However, black scars remained on him, marring his face. Just like the piece of amplifier in his hand.

But Aleksander didn't care at all. His scars were a good reminder that anyone can be made a fool of. And he didn't want to be fooled by the woman's beautiful eyes once again—even ones as beautiful as yours.

David offered to take it out for him, but he wasn't ready for it yet. The amplifier was his only connection to Alina, and he needed every means to locate her. At least, that's how he explained to himself his reluctance to remove the festering amplifier from his hand.

He did the same with you. He also told himself that the creation of a secret shelter for his Grishas in an abandoned manor in the forest a few miles from your little cabin was pure coincidence. Just like the way he had a habit of wandering around your neighbourhood and watching you from afar when he needed to think alone about his further plans.

The problem was that he couldn't plan anything. Nothing significant. Of course, he still freed his Grisha and kept them safe, but when it came to Ravka's fate... he was in a bind. He didn't know what to do.

And so one day, when he went for a walk away from Ivan, Fruzsi, and the rest who were bothering him, he 'accidentally' came across you.

It's happened quite often. At first, he sent Ivan to look at you; sometimes he followed you around himself, waiting in suspense to find out that you weren't an innocent nurse after all. That it was not by accident that you took him from under the fold and cured him. But he found nothing. You have no conspiracy against him, no cult that was killing Grisha, or even any connection to Alina's group. Nothing.

He didn't know what to think about that either. He would rather discover that you weren't so selfless and sensitive to others' harm. This way, you would save him some sleepless nights when he thought about you and the way you took care of him. No one has done this for a long time... or ever. To be honest, Aleksander didn't remember the last time that someone just... he looked after him out of pure kindness and concern FOR HIM.

Neither his mother nor Alina. One was too cold to even think about caring for the other, and the second was too afraid of him to even consider him as something more than just a monster craving power and the throne. He didn't think he'd had anyone since Luda who would simply take care of him out of the goodness of their hearts.

That's why he started to be fascinated and curious about you. A mere mortal. Otkazat’sya. You tended to avoid people despite your willingness to help (at which he was very surprised). In the village where you worked in the infirmary, everyone treated you warmly and kindly, just as you treated them. Even your worst patients. To which Aleksander would lose his tamper more than once.

Over time, he realised that what drew him to you was your warmth. He was starting to get jealous of the attention you gave others, even if you then went back to your cabin alone. He didn't know what caused this need to be near you. Maybe it was because he was tired of being alone in his icy darkness. Alina once was his sunlight. For a brief moment, he felt... normal. In peace. After everything went to hell. And then, he felt like this for a while under your tender touch.

He should have learned from his mistakes and forgotten about you, but... something wouldn't let him.

He was beginning to suspect that maybe he was just getting too old for all this.

"All alone in the forest? Do you know what monsters might be lurking here?" He asks, encountering you on one of his excursions to help him think. It was a pure impulse. He snuck up on you on the spur of the moment (or maybe because Alina tried to snatch the amplifier out of his hand a few hours ago and he needed someone to talk to as... just Aleksander. Not the Darkling.)

"For example?" You ask, turning to him and stopping picking herbs. You look pretty. Strands of hair fall into your eyes, and he almost reaches out to brush them off himself, but you do it before he can raise his hand.

He takes a look at you. Your coat is too thin for his taste. The snow had barely melted, and what you were wearing certainly didn't adequately protect you from the cold wind that was still blowing. He had to ask David to make you something similar to a kefta when he would be back.

"The Darkling." He says, feeling your burning, careful gaze on his face. You don't look at him with disgust or fear. No. He sees in your eyes a professional assessment of his health and a slight hint of curiosity... he wonders if maybe he's not the only one here who feels drawn to the other.

"I doubt he has enough free time to wander around the forest." He smiles at your words, amused that you have no idea that you are now talking with him.

He had never been happier that the news in these parts of Ravka... usually didn't reach here. People here identified more with Shu since they started mixing with each other a long time ago. Of course not Grisha. They could only count on themselves. Mostly...

"Oh, you'd be surprised what can happen, little saviour."

"Saviour?" You ask, raising your eyebrows at him. He sees the spark of amusement shining in your eyes, and he just can't help himself. He steps closer to you and reaches for the basket of herbs. He follows you as you select herbs and plants that you apparently find useful. Aleksander feels... normal and ordinary. And for a moment, he begins to understand why Alina would choose a simple life with her tracker rather than a privileged one as a Sun Summoner.

"I believe I owe a part of my life to you."

"Almost no one gets out of the fold. Thank the saints for your life, not me." You shrug off his feeble attempt at thanking you and turn to him. You study his face carefully, assessing the appearance of his scars. He feels himself starting to blush under your gaze.

"I don't believe in saints." He finally says, glad that he managed to drag your gaze away from his face as you look into his eyes this time, frowning in surprise.

"Why?"

"They were ordinary people. Most of them had no idea what they were doing. People hailed them as saints mainly because of rumours—stories whose confirmation could only be sought from the insane."

"So not only a carpenter, but also an expert in saints. You are a true mystery, Aleksander." You laugh at him and he smiles, thinking that you don't even know what an enigma he is.

"I'm just saying that most of them didn't do anything significant. Not for Grisha. And they were killed because they tried to show people that they shouldn't hunt us and that we are useful in some way. If anything, they tightened the chains of slavery on us."

"So you are a Grisha." He blushes slightly, embarrassed at how easily he let his secret be revealed. Yes. He was definitely too old for all this. "What kind of are you? Inferni? Durast?"

"Heartrender." He answers quickly and without thinking. "But it doesn't matter. Forgive me. I should go." He says, almost panicking as he turns away from you and rushes in the opposite direction. He wants to get away from you as quickly as possible before he unknowingly reveals his true identity to you.

"Wait a second. Aleksander!" However, you don't give up and chase after him, grabbing his hand—exactly the one that is rotting from the remains of the amplifier left in it. Aleksander hisses, wincing in pain. He pulls his hand out of your grip and tries to look anywhere but at you. "Your hand." You whisper hurriedly as you walk towards him. He takes a step back, trying as always to keep some distance from you when you made him feel... vulnerable.

"Not your concern." He growls at you, hoping you'll drop the idea of examining his wound. Because how was he supposed to explain to you the stag bone stuck in his hand?

"Volcra poison can infect your blood. You should get it cured by your healers. And do it as quickly as possible; otherwise, it will lead you to a slow death; you will lose your senses; you will start hearing whispers, calls from the fold, and volcra."

"I'll be fine."

"Don't make me laugh; even the Darkling wouldn't be able to deal with that all alone. The Volcra may be the product of his ancestors, but this... this is a wild kind of little science. Unpredictable. I have seen hundreds who may have managed to get out of the crease but have gone mad because of their venom. These are not ordinary shadows. They are living creatures that attack just like any other animal. So please, if you don't trust me with this, go and show it to some talented healer, because you can't leave it like that."

"How do you know so much about this?" He asks curiously, putting his injured hand into the pocket of his kefta.

"Anyone who lives near the fold and is involved in healing knows this." You answer evasively, trying to avoid his further questions. This time you turn your back to him, pretending that you are interested in some plant.

"No, they not." He continues insistently, wanting at all costs to know the real reason you were here, why you had so much knowledge about the fold. He grabs your arm and turns you around so he can look at your face, as he is waiting for your answer.

"My sister was a healer. A Grisha." You blurt out in one breath and look away from him as painful memories come flooding back to you. Aleksander feels a pang in his heart when he sees the obvious pain in your eyes. A pain he himself had carried with him for centuries.

"Was?" He notes, swallowing.

"She is dead."

"The fold?" You nod at his question. He feels his throat dry, and he lets go of your arm as his hands tremble slightly. And Aleksander thinks that of all the lives that the fold has taken, your sister's life will be the one that will remain permanently in his memory. Especially that look filled with pain, bitterness, and grieving. "Then why did you stay here?"

"I moved here... to help to this who could somehow managed to get out of it." You reply as you calm down. Your tone of voice and posture may confuse Aleksander at first glance, but your eyes, your eyes tell him everything that you try to hide.

"It's... very nobel."

"Just please, don't leave it like that. You will certainly die if you will."

"You care about the stranger?" He asks in surprise, raising an eyebrow at you. You reach for your basket and take it from him before giving him your answer and looking him in the eyes again.

"I've already told you. It would be a waste of medicines and bandages if you die." You reply mischievously with a smile, and he chuckles. He can't help but reach up to your cheek and caress your cheek with his thumb as he gets lost in your eyes. No one had ever cared for him, so... simply. Without any major reasons. It was... extraordinary. You were extraordinary.

"It's... more complcated... but I shall listen to you." He assures you, noticing the way you nuzzle your cheek into his hand, not pulling away from him at all, not flinching at his sudden touch. His gaze involuntarily flits from your eyes to your mouth for a brief moment, and he imagines what it would be like to kiss you—to feel the softness of your lips against his. And Aleksander really wants to do it.

"I hope so... and that you won't get in trouble because of that grumpy old general of yours for being here." Alexander chuckles at your joke, amused by the absurdity of the situation. If you only knew...would you still let him stand so close to you? His mood suddenly worsens as he thinks about it. What would you do if you found out he was the Darkling? That he created the fold?

"Believe me, little savior, he can't do anything to me for coming to you." He replies and lowers his hand, breaking any contact with your soft, silky skin. Oh, how he wanted to know more of you—to touch more than your hands, cheeks, hair, or neck. But he couldn't. Not after so much disappointment, not after Alina, not after Luda. He should have known better.

So he freezes, completely shocked, when you grab his wrist and cup his cheek in your hand. Your basket of herbs is abandoned on the forest path as you brush your nose against his. Alexander holds his breath, waiting to see what you will do.

"May I?" You ask, whispering, trembling as you're unsure of his reaction to what you want to do.

All Aleksander can do is cross the last inches between you and capture your lips in a kiss. You sigh, tangling your fingers in his hair and pulling him closer. Aleksander wraps his arms around you tightly and takes two steps back, pressing you against the tree. You moan into his mouth as his beard tickles you into the kiss, which he uses to his advantage and slides his tongue into your mouth.

Aleksander allows himself to lose himself in the feeling of you, your taste, your smell, and the way your body feels under his wandering hands. And if he had previously suspected that he might be obsessed with you, now he has proved to himself how deep you have gotten under his skin. He was a fool for allowing you to have such power over him. But how sweet it was to be a fool, with your lips and hands pressed against him.

And the next day, when he comes to visit you, his hand is completely healed, without any amplifier. And his mind is completely free of Alina Starkov.

"That's nice." You whisper in the crook of his neck as you lie cuddled in the meadow under the full moon.

“Mhm…” Aleksander mumbles, burying his nose in your hair. He hugs you tighter, as if afraid that you might escape from his arms at any moment. "Although I'm beginning to wonder if you've brought me here to perform some witchy tricks. Maybe some sacrifice?"

"Your ass is too beautiful to sacrifice it." You reply teasingly, biting his neck. He gasps and digs his fingers harder into your hips. He leans down, moving your head away from his neck by pulling your hair so he can steal a kiss from your lips.

"Is it?" He whispers against your lips as he pulls away to let you catch your breath.

"Apparently." You reply, reaching up to caress the scars on his face with your fingertip. Aleksander closes his eyes and sighs, surrendering to your gentle touch. "I like your face too. The way you frown when you're irritated by something. The way you twist your ridiculously tempting lips into a smirk when you're right, even though it irritates me sometimes. The way your eyes sparkle when you talk about how you help Grisha. The way you look at me, as if I were your whole world. The way you wrap your hands around me or take my hand in yours to make sure I'm close to you, that I'm under your protection, and that I'm not going anywhere. The way you are grumpy when you are sleepy and how you don't want to admit that you are tired. I... I think I fell in love with you, Aleksander."

Aleksander smiles, caressing your cheek tenderly. He leans down and captures your lips in a tender kiss, trying to shake away the guilt that has been haunting him for several months now.

Ever since your relationship... became more serious, Aleksander has been trying to find the perfect way to tell you about his true identity. But every time he thought the moment was good, he lost his courage. He didn't even want to think about what your reaction might be to him being the Darkling who created the fold. He was absolutely convinced that you would hate him as soon as the truth came to light and that you would blame him for your sister's death. And honestly? Aleksander would not even try to defend himself. He knew damn well that he didn't deserve your affection and love. However, he couldn't help but come back to you, basking in the feeling that he had been denied for a very long time.

You end the kiss and bury your face in the crook of his neck. Aleksander shivers as he feels you exhale warm air onto his cold skin. He tightens his grip on you and presses a kiss to the top of your head.

"I love you too, milaya." He mumbles, running a hand through your hair. He plays with the strands of your hair, twirling them around his finger.

He feels unexpectedly pleasant around you. Homely. Ordinary. These were feelings that Aleksander had rarely, if ever, experienced over the course of hundreds of years. He found himself longing for moments where he could slip away to your little cottage and sink into the warmth of your arms, listen to your gentle heartbeat, and bask in your scent. This was a huge hindrance to his plans to get another amplifier and guarantee a better future for his Grisha.

"They say they've seen a Darkling in these parts. That he's gathering an army to start a civil war." Aleksander frowns, feeling his heart speed up slightly in panic.

"That's what they say?"

"Yhm... What do you think about it? Will you join him? Or will you try to escape and join Sankta Alina?" He unconsciously tightens his grip on you as you ask him this question and mention Alina. He buries his nose in your hair, inhaling your scent and trying to calm himself down before answering your question.

"I will stay. I think he wants a better future for us than Alina plans to guarantee."

"Maybe for Grisha. But still, I don't like wars."

"Me too, lapushka. But sometimes there is no other solution to change something than to start a war and take the power." He admits with a sigh and traces patterns on your arm, calming down as he feels the softness of your skin under the pads of his hard fingers.

Aleksander suddenly becomes more alert, subconsciously sensing the approaching threat. He doesn't want to outgrow you, thinking that maybe it's his paranoia kicking in, so he sits down, still holding you in his arms, as he looks around at his surroundings. He holds his breath as he sees movement in the bushes across from you.

Before he can do anything, a group of Shu surrounds you. One of them has a shotgun aimed at you. Aleksander acts instinctively. He wraps one arm around you, summoning his shadows. Before anyone can hurt you, he uses a cut and sends his shadows to remove the threat. The metallic smell of blood fills the clearing. Aleksander breathes quickly, his veins pumping with adrenaline as he looks around carefully. He feels blood seeping from where the bullet hit him, piercing his plain coat. He hisses, turning his attention to you. He breathes a sigh of relief when he sees no signs of hurt on you, but freezes in fear as soon as he sees your terrified look.

"Y/N... I can explain."

"You are hurt. Let's go back to my cottage, I'll stitch you up." You interrupt him, examining his wound.

You take his hand and lead him through the forest towards your house. Aleksander stares at the back of your head in shock, tightening his grip on your hand, wanting to make sure you don't suddenly run away from him and that you don't decide to abandon him in the middle of the forest to save yourself from him.

You open the door and wordlessly point to the bed. He takes your hint and sits down, taking off his coat and shirt. Involuntarily, he remembers the first time he came here and woke up in your bed. He swallows hard, hoping this won't be the last time you treat his wounds. Or when you're close to him.

"This may sting." You tell him, sitting down next to him. You squirt a cotton ball with antiseptic into his wound. He hissed, biting his lip, completely unprepared for this as he was still lost in his thoughts.

"Y/N… I… I wanted to tell you. I swear. I just… I didn't want to ruin… you know what I mean, right?" He asks, staring intently at you. You make no move to look him in the eyes, pretending to devote all your attention to his wound. Aleksander cups both of your cheeks in his hands and forces you to look at him as he gives you a pleading look. "Please. Say something. Anything."

"I… I didn't expect this. Because why would the Darkling be hurt by something he created and why would he return to my cottage?"

"Because you fascinated me. Deeply. You... you were the first person to see me as something other than a Darkling. Alexander. The real me, not the version of myself I had to create for my Grishas. I... besides, I didn't hide my thought from you. You... you were one of the truly few people I let under my mask who could see my heart. And I swear I was going to tell you, I... I was just afraid that I would lose you the moment you found out who I really was. What can I do."

"Oh, Aleksander. You stupid man. Am I running away screaming? Am I calling you a monster? Am I treating you differently?" You ask, placing your hand on his bearded cheek and using your thumb to stroke it tenderly, making sure you give his scars the tender care they deserve.

"No." He responds, carefully analyzing and comparing your behavior before today's fatal accident.

"Because I don't see you any other way. Yes, at first I was shocked and a little scared, but that was because I didn't expect it at all. You… volcra it's not your fault. Even if you created it. You didn't know what would happen." Aleksander feels a lump in his throat.

How can he tell you that he planned to make it bigger? That before he met you he would have done it without blinking an eye, but now he has such serious doubts that he is actually considering deviating from his original plan for you?

"I'm not as good a person as you think."

"Then show me." You answer casually, as if it were that simple. You finish patching up his wound and press a kiss on it.

Aleksander smiles at you tenderly and pulls you in for a passionate kiss. His heart is racing as he realises that he hasn't actually lost you, that you're still here and want to be here, judging by the way you moan into his mouth.

He holds you tightly and lays down on your bed with you straddling him as you place small kisses along his neck and across the width of his muscled chest. He smiles, realising how far he's come with you. He never would have guessed when he woke up in this bed that he would let you get this close to him. But with each little kiss you gave, the gentle, tender way your hands moved over his body, and the way you caressed each of his wounds and scars, Aleksander thanked the saints for putting you in his path. And unknowingly to him, you truly were his little saviour, saving him from a much worse fate than he could ever imagine.

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 6 months ago

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AITA for not putting a bell on my cat?

Cw for discussion of animal death and injury in vague terms.

So I live in a neighborhood with a lot of stray/outdoor cats. In fact, it's sorta that way all over the city. A few weeks ago as of writing this, I picked up a stray because I saw that it had an open wound on its neck; since it was amicable to being handled I decided to take it to the vet to be treated (and neutered, since I'd already gotten hold of it and obviously we don't need more strays.)

Recently, my cat of 15 years (we had him for 15 years, he was about 17-18 though) passed of old age, so I wasn't expecting my family to be willing to take a new cat in so soon. We even still have most of his stuff, so I figured it would be a matter of keeping the stray indoors until it was healed, then letting him go about his business. We all ended up getting attached over his two weeks of recovery though (if anyone is curious, it was a burst absess. While he was there we got him vaccinated and checked for other problems. Aside from ear mites, he was fine) so we got him a microchip, named him, and that was that.

My previous cat was also a rescue, though we picked him up from a shelter. At the time we also had a dog and a dog door, so keeping him inside would have been a logistical struggle we just... didn't care to bother with. By the time the dog passed, he'd had access to the outside for years and we saw no reason to suddenly cut him off from that. We obviously had to keep this new cat completely inside while his staples were in, but the plan was always to open up the dog door once he was healed and let him decide where he wanted to be. I don't like taking care of a litter box, my dad doesn't like the smell of cat, 3/4ths of the house is allergic (though that didn't stop us before), and this cat is much younger than our previous was, and has much more energy (vet estimated him at 6mo-1yr). At the beginning of last week (again, as of writing this) I got the go-ahead from the vet to let him outside and gladly did so. He hasn't gotten the hang of the dog door yet (our previous had the advantage of watching the dog go through to learn how to do it) but will go through open doors/windows and will return to the door or enter through the window if it's still open.

With context out of the way here comes the trouble: our neighbors. Our house is on the corner of the block and to our left is a house that takes tenants every so often. They've been here for as long as I (22m) have been alive and have been a nucance for probably longer than that. Their yard is atrocious, they planted bamboo that grew under the fence and into our property, and the woman who owns the house (presumably. Her husband might but I've never spoken to him) apparently has some moral issue with outdoor cats.

Sometime into owning our previous cat, she suddenly became very concerned with the bird population and insisted that we collar our cat and get him a bell so that he wouldn't catch birds. I'd like to point three things out: 1) our previous cat only had one eye, 2) we had tried to collar him before and he lost every single one so we gave up (breakaway collars so he didn't choke, 3) he caught birds despite both of these facts. Needless to say, I was not fucking thrilled about unsolicited advice from a woman I'd never spoken to, who let her unmitigated mess of invasive plants invade my garden, but whatever. She spoke to my little (10yro) sister about it at the time, only once, and never to me, so it wasn't an issue.

So I let this new cat out, right? I opened the dog door for him and he waltzed right on out, but I wasn't convinced he really knew how to operate it. About an hour or so without hearing him come in, I head through the back door to look for him. I got him from a different neighborhood, across town, while visiting a friend, so I figured I was allowed to be a little worried about him getting lost or overwhelmed. As soon as I step out onto the porch, the neighbor-lady calls over and asks me if my cat got out or I let it out.

I tell her I let him out. She asks me to put a bell on him. In an attempt to remain civil I ask her why. She says something about it being stupid, I ask her why it's stupid, she says cats eat birds and the bird populations are declining. I instantly want to call bull on cats being a leading reason of bird population decline, but I just tell her that I'll have to look that up, and ask her if she saw which way he went. (I'd like my restraint during this interaction noted, thanks.)

Anyway I don't find the cat but I get a good few patrols around the block, and eventually he comes back to the house sometime in the late-night early-morning. He does not use the dog door and waits for me to open the door instead (back door is on the way to the bathroom, I saw his stupid little face pressed against the glass when i went to piss).

I look up bird population decline articles. Most of them mention cats as a factor, along with clear windows. Primary factors are listed as deforestation and invasive species, pesticides, etc. I don't consider getting my cat a collar because I don't appreciate my neighbors input, especially when she's going to be hypocritical and ignore that planting native species may help bird population more than putting out fifty fucking feeders and complaining that the stray cats see her yard as a buffet. Anyway.

I let him out again yesterday, this time through the window in my room, which leads to the back porch. I felt comfortable leaving it open since I work at my desk and would hear if anything not-cat came inside. (Allergies were a problem, but I'd really rather he have a way to get inside if he wanted/needed, and he STILL will not open the dog door on his own. Obviously I'm not helping by continuing to give him alternatives but I am soft-hearted.) Sometime in the evening my dad comes in and tells me that when the cat next comes back, I should keep him inside because "The neighbor lady is being a bitch and I don't want to deal with it." I assume she said something to him, so I agree and when the cat comes in for the night I close the window.

This morning I saw what had ACTUALLY got him.in a twist, because not only did she say something but she printed out and taped a note to our door. Oh, how I would love to send a picture of it here, but I don't know how to embed photos in asks so you'll just have to deal with my transcription:

CAT FACTS

Cats kill birds. Cars kill cats.

Here's some links to look up.

[I won't type the links out. First one is an article titled "how long do outdoor cats live indoor vs outdoor cats" and the second is "faq cats and their effects on birds". I have not read either of these.]

Ask Kelly about Dixie. Ask Jean about Madeline - wait don't - she ran over her with her own car and broke her pelvis because the cat was older and couldn't hear well.

You have a very beautiful young cat. He deserves a safe loving home. Act like you care for your cat or give him to a home that will. I have four indoor cats - three are orange boys. I have a soft spot for orange boy cats. They are very happy as inside cats.

Be responsible.

[Handwritten at the bottom:]

Your cat is sleeping in my backyard. Why are you forcing him to be an outdoor cat!?

[End]

The amount of violent rage this fills me with is unreal. Kelly is our across-the-road neighbor, I assume Jean is another neighbor (I'm bad with names) and I CANNOT imagine that either of them appreciate being. Used like this. Also, I'm very glad her cats are happy indoors but this cat is not, he wants to go outside, he has been crowding the window all morning waiting for me to open it. (I respect me father so I won't, but I disrespect my neighbor so I really, REALLY fucking want to.)

So AITA for disregarding the safety/happiness of my cat and the decline of the bird population by not putting a collar on him and heartlessly forcing him outside? I'm no further inclined to force him indoors or get a collar, especially with her continued insistence, and in fact I'm so far making an active effort to restrain myself from going over and talking to her because I just want to turn it into an argument.

#aita #am i the asshole #pet death cw

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faeriichaii · 2 months ago

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Hi! I was wondering if you could please write a legolas fix where he has a crush on f!reader!. But here's the thing, she's arwen sister and both arwen and aragorn try to match them both together and at the end they get to confess and all! I had this idea tysm<33

Sunkissed ~ Legolas x F!Elf!Reader

A/N: oh how I missed Legolas <3 I haven’t written anything for him in such a long time that I am so so happy to do a request for him again <3 tbh I think it is so easy for me to write him? Cause idk I picture him like the perfect romance guy?? And idk I always get so soft writing for him haha but omg I hope you enjoy the story!! <33

⇢ ˗ˏˋ Warnings: Fluff ࿐ྂ ⇢ ˗ˏˋ Words: 2.0k ࿐ྂ ⇢ ˗ˏˋ Request: Yes (Thank you <33) ࿐ྂ ⇢ ˗ˏˋ Le I velethril e-guil nîn ~ You are the Love of my Life ࿐ྂ ⇢ ˗ˏˋ Le Melin ~ I love you ࿐ྂ

Summary: You have been in love with the elven prince since quite a time, but never told him about it. Your sister Arwen however, is determined to change the course of your relationship with Legolas.

The light of the setting sun enveloped the room in a warm orange hue, a perfect start for the upcoming celebration of the night. Aragorn, as well as the rest of the company, arrived in Rivendell a few days ago. However, due to their immense exhaustion, the festivities had to be postponed until today. Sitting in front of your vanity, you listened to Arwen hum while her hands brushed through your hair. You have asked for her help earlier and being your sister, she of course, did not decline your request of braiding your hair. “Are you excited for todays festivities?” You suddenly asked her. Watching her reflection through the mirror, you saw a gentle smile gracing her face. “Of course I am sister. They have finally returned from their long journey and deserve to be celebrated.” “You are especially keen on celebrating Aragorn, aren’t you?” You teased her. A blush dusted her cheeks, as she gave you a light slap on the shoulder.

“Stop it. Don’t try to deny that you aren’t keen on celebrating a special someone yourself.” Arwen uttered while gathering a few strands of your hair. Looking down at your lap, you tried to hide your broad smile from her. Even the thought of Legolas alone made your heart skip a beat. And now he finally returned to Rivendell. “We are just very close friends, sister.” “Yes. Very very close friends indeed.” You scoffed at her. It was a known fact that Legolas and you have been friends since your early childhood days. You remember playing with him in the gardens of Mirkwood and dancing together at celebrations in Rivendell. You also remember how your heart shattered as you watched him chase after Tauriel. And of course you remember, putting Legolas heart back together once more.

One could say you went through a lifetime already, however you still only remained friends. “Yes, friends. Nothing more and nothing less.” Slight bitterness filled your voice at the prospect of never being more than that with the elven prince. Arwen, noticing the tone, gave your shoulders a reassuring squeeze. “You say it like it is a curse to be his friend.” “Well, you do know how I feel towards him, don’t you?” “And you know that you can change the course of your relationship anytime, don’t you?” Her arms wrapped around your shoulders in a gentle hug. “Stop worrying about a rejection that will never happen. Even our father can tell that Legolas harbours more than just friendly feelings for you, sister.” Smiling at her, you squeezed her arms, that were still encircling you. “Arwen, the sun is already setting and you still haven’t even begun to separate the strands.” She let out a huff at your change of topic and let go of you, continuing to brush through your hair. “Dear sister, would you prefer a half up half down braid with pearls?”

After finally finishing up and heading to the festivities with your sister, you quickly looked around the room. “Searching for someone specific (Y/N)?” Aragorn asked, while holding an arm out for Arwen to take. “No, not particularly.” “She is, but she just is too shy to admit it.” You glared at your sister. “Don’t worry, he will be here soon.” “Thank you, Aragorn but I am not worrying about anything or searching for someone or something. Now excuse me, I need to get a cup of wine.” And with that you left the couple alone.

“When are the both of them finally admitting their feelings for each other?” Arwen asked her lover, while he guided her towards the dance floor. “Legolas once openly admitted to me that he does love her, but he is so unsure about what to do. Especially after he got rejected by Tauriel.” A knowing hum left her lips, as she let Aragorns words sink in. “I think we should help them out. Find the right course for their future.” She said, as she twirled in her lovers arms.

Hours passed by and you found yourself staring up at the stars above. “Beautiful night, isn’t it?” You spun around at the familiar voice. Your heart skipping a beat as you watched Legolas approach you slowly. His golden hair was perfectly partly braided behind his pointy ears. You remember that he once let you braid it when you were children and how soft it felt. Averting your eyes, you looked back up at the night sky. “It indeed is.” Standing beside you, he let his hands rest on top of the railing. Your fingers almost brushed against each other, sending tingles through your body. “(Y/N) I actually have a little present for you.” Tilting your head, you turned toward him curiously. His warm hand grabbed yours, turned it around and placed something small inside it. Looking down, you saw an iridescent pearl. Taking it between two fingers you examined it carefully. A small was drilled through the small sphere and small delicate details were carved into the surface.

“Legolas, this is so beautiful. Did you make this?” You looked up at the elven prince, who bashfully looked away. “Yes, a dwarven friend showed me how to make one of the- of the beads.” He stumbled upon his words. “Thank you so much, I love it!” Wrapping your arms around his torso, you gave him a hug. His scent filled your nose. Like a fresh spring breeze with a hint of lavender. His arms gently wrapped around you, engulfing you in his warmth. You could have stayed like this forever. In his arms, in his warmth. Pulling away, you smiled up at him, a soft red hue dusting your cheeks. “Would you like to braid the bead into my hair?” You asked him, still holding onto his hands while the bead is nestled between both of your palms. “It would be an honour.” His smile made your heart flutter and fill your body with a comfortable warmth. Turning around, you let the elven prince gather a strand of your hair, braid it and finish it off with the beautiful bead he just gifted you. “It looks beautiful in your hair. Like a star encased in a soft blanket.” You smiled at his words, as you turned back around. Oh, how you wish this night would never end.

The next day you were walking through the gardens alone. You were thinking about the celebrations yesterday. Especially how Legolas treated you and even gifted you a handmade bead. You also vividly remember how the pair of you glided over the dance floor to various melodies. And how his touch ignited your body. You could still even feel the imprints of his fingers on your waist. Do normal friends even act like we do? “You seem quite in thought today (Y/N)” Aragorns voice rung in your ears, ripping you away from your daydream. “Hello Aragorn, how come you are spending time without my sister? I thought the both of you would be inseparable after your return.” The man let out a soft chuckle at your joke. “She found company in someone else today.” You raised an eyebrow at that. With whom was she spending time?

“And to be completely honest with you, I was seeking you out for today.” “How come?” “Let’s take a walk around the gardens, shall we?” He smiled at you, deflecting your question. Nodding at his request, the both of you started to walk along the stone path. “Do you know how Legolas came up with the idea of making this bead?” “He just told me that a friend helped him. So, I guess Gimli shared some of his wisdom with him.” “That is partly the truth.” You looked at Aragorn curiously. “What do you mean by that?” A sigh left the man at your question. “I can’t exactly tell you, because it is not my place to. However, I really wish he would just finally admit to his feelings and confess. The same also goes to you.” You suddenly stopped walking and stared at him; mouth slightly ajar. Never would you have ever guessed that Aragorn would call you out for your feelings towards the elven prince.

“I- I have my reasons Aragorn.” “And so does he. But would you rather constantly long for him than actually courting him?” Embarrassment flooded your system, as you looked at the ground. “I just- I am scared of losing him.” A hand on your shoulder made you look up. Aragorn smiled gently at you. “You won’t lose him (Y/N). I think he might actually be on his way by now to change something about your… situation.” Aragorns eyes focused on something behind you, which made you turn around confused. Arwen was descending the few stone steps with Legolas beside her. “Well, what a pleasant surprise, isn’t it?” She said, weaving her arm through Aragorns. You looked at Legolas, who gave you a smile as a greeting. Returning his gesture, the four of you continued your walk through the garden.

“I am happy to see you are still wearing the bead in your hair.” The elven prince broke the silence between you. “Of course I am. You put so much effort into this lovely gift, I will cherish it for the rest of my life.” “I am glad to hear that.” He slowed his pace down, to create some distance between the both of you and the pair in front of you. “(Y/N) there is something I want to talk about with you.” A shiver went down your spine at his words. Did he find out about my feelings? Will he reject me now? Dread flooded your system, as you stared at him waiting for him to continue talking. “Do you know how I came up with the idea of gifting you this bead?” Legolas asked you. You shook your head no. “It is quite simple. Gimli talked about his customs and how similar they were to ours in some aspects. He also mentioned that they normally craft courting beads for their significant other.” Warmth spread over your face and dusted your cheeks in a rosy colour.

“After that I asked him if he could show me how to craft one. Because I wanted to give one to you.” Suddenly he stopped walking and turned toward you. Grabbing your hand gently into his, he let his thumb stroke soft circles over your skin. Your heart beat quickened, as you looked up into his warm eyes. “I want to court you (Y/N). I want to spend my lifetime with yours. I want to be beside you during cold nights as well as warm days. I want to be with you and I want to be yours (Y/N).” Gasping at his words, you squeezed his hands reassuringly. “I never would have expected to hear such beautiful words from you Legolas. My heart has always longed to be with yours and I would love to enter this courtship with you. I want to spend my lifetime with you. I want to be yours and I would love you to be mine.”

Smiling brightly at you, Legolas let go of your hands and placed his gently on your face. His thumb stroked along your reddened cheek, before he leaned in slightly. Your heartbeat quickened as his face got closer to yours. But before your lips could touch, he stopped. “Le I velethril e-guil nîn.” And with those words he closed the gap between you. His rich taste filled your system, as you tilted your head more to the side and let his lips engulf more of you. He was addicting, like a drug. A sweet drug. He tasted like a sunny spring morning. Like the comfort and warmth of sunrays on your skin. Separating, the both of you looked at each other lovingly. “Le melin.” You said, smiling brightly at him before indulging once more in his lips and his embrace, making sure to treasure every single second of it.

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storiesfromafan · 2 months ago

Text

I'm Sorry Baby - Benny x Reader

A/N: I am back! And with Part 4 of my Spitfire series. This one was fun to write...as I am throwing myself into a bit of smut 😅

Also, want to thank @strayrockette for reading and advising on my attempt at smut 😂 I appricate her opinion.

Warning: my attemtp at smut after 10+ years, which even then might not have been good. So please, go easy on me 😅 also, might be grammer and spelling mistakes.

Tag list: tagging those that previously comment, in case you were looking forward to the next part haha.

@redwitchbitch1 @bellesdreamyprofile @cherryaustin

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

A few days after his return, and you pretty much throwing him out, Benny had been staying in a motel. He had been thinking everything over, trying to work out how to get back in your good graces. So, here he was at the bar, currently sitting with Johnny. With a short glass in hand, half full of amber liquid, Benny's poison of choice. He was having a talk with the one person he could talk too. One married man to another.

“What did ya expect, kid? Her to welcome ya back with open arms?” Johnny chuckled taking a sip from his glass.

“Nuh...but I didn’t think I’d get the door shut in my face” Benny sighed.

Johnny softly laughed. “She’s hurtin’. If ya could have heard her” – a look of guilt crossed Benny’s face – “Well, ya get what I mean...”

Benny nodded, taking a sip from his glass, eyes looking off into a void.

“Look kid” Johnny began, sitting up and leaning in, “woman are tricky. Wives are trickier. In a relationship there is two of ya. Not just you, or her. The two of ya. Yeah, she told ya to leave. But it was you who made that choice”.

Again, Benny nodded his head.

“But I’m not sayin' it’s your fault. It’s both of ya's fault in some way. Why hadn’t you been goin’ home at a decent hour?”

Benny shrugged. “Dunno, I’ve always been here, I guess...”

“You guess?” Questioned the Vandal leader. “You’re crazy about the spitfire, yeah?”

“Yeah” was all Benny said.

“Then you should have been goin' home to her. The club will still be here the next day. The knuckleheads will still be knuckleheads. But your woman, she ain’t somethin’ to take for granted” Johnny pointed his finger at Benny as he said that.

And he knew Johnny was right. Benny was crazy for you, had been since he saw you. He was crazy for your sass and attitude, for your fire. But also your caring and warmness to him. You were something special, something he had taken for granted. Benny was determined to get you back, one way or another. He would fight for you, fight for your relationship.

“What do I have to do to get her back?” Benny asked the older Vandal.

“I’d say get on ya knees and grovel” Johnny downed the last of his drink. “A woman with her spirit, she ain’t gonna just roll over. Your gonna have to show her what she means to ya. Or pray for a miracle”.

Getting up, Johnny patted Benny on the back laughing. He knew his younger Vandal was in for a fun time. But he wished him luck, and hoped it all worked out. Benny stared at the last of the liquid in his glass, before downing it and placing the glass on the table. Now he had to think of what he could do to win you back.

Finally it was closing time at the salon. Your feet were aching, and you had a small headache from listening to client after client either gossip or complain about life. You loved your job, but women could be so catty. And then there was Benny, and his reappearance a couple days ago. How it weighed on your mind and heart.

Betty had called you last night to let you know where he’d been staying, and how he was going. Apparently she’d seen him that day and he didn’t seem himself, lost in his thoughts. And that he hadn’t gone to the bar for long. She thinks he was riding most of the night, or back in his motel room. She believes he was thinking of you, and your relationship. You thanked her for the information before ending the call.

Part of you felt guilty, and missed him like crazy. But that fire in you wanted to give him a taste of his own medicine, for him to realise what he did and learn a lesson. You helped the owner clean up while she handled the till and books. You both conversed on the day in the shop, laughing at bits of gossip you’d both learned about other clients.

“So, how are you doing?” Sophia – salon owner – asked peering over at you, as you swept.

“Yeah, I’m alright” you replied off handedly.

Sophia nodded. “I heard Benny’s back, I take it he came home?”

You nodded. “Yeah...but I didn’t let him back in. I need my space”.

With that you collected the hair and moved to the back, where you’d dispose of it. The conversation done with, for now. Sophia wasn’t blind. She’d see how the week without your husband effected you. And how closed in and shut off you’d been. But Sophia also saw how happy you’d been when you got with Benny. Compared to your ex, this relationship was much better and you were the happiest she’d seen you.

With all the end of day chores done, you and Sophia headed out the front door. You were the last, closing the door and locking it for your boss. She always struggled to get the lock secure, so you just do it, since it seemed to like you. Sometimes you’d even be the one to lock up, and gave Sophia an early mark.

“Well, that’s a sight for sore eyes” Sophia said softly.

You’d just secured the lock, before turning to the woman, that was looking to across the road. Following her gaze you were greeted to the sight of your husband, who was leant against his parked bike. It reminded you of when he’d pick you up after work, seeing him after you’d finish work. How he'd light up when seeing you coming towards him, and how you’d greet him with a sweet kiss. But now you weren’t sure what to do.

“Are you gonna go to him?” Sophia questioned, turning back to you.

You shook your head before heading to your car, Sophia followed, as her car was next to you. Once coming to the cars she stopped you, she gave you a soft, small smile.

“Look Hun, can I give you some advice?” – You nodded for her to go – “there will always be fights in a relationship. But I know how much that man means to you, and no doubt it’s the same for him. So, don’t let this fight stop you from being with him, alright?”

You let her words sink in before slowly nodding your head. “I’ll try not to Sophia...but right now, I need some time...”

She nodded. “I know, but don’t take too long. He’s too good looking to stay away from” she teased with a wink, which made you softly laugh.

You hadn’t laughed in a little while at a teasing remark about Benny. Maybe you were already beginning to get over it. But you would give it a little more time till you were completely ready to have Benny back in your house and your bed. With a see you tomorrow, you both got in your cars and left. Briefly you looked to Benny as you drove out of the car park, and headed home.

Benny had watched the whole time you left the salon, to getting to your car. He could see how you and your boss talked, and saw how the woman had looked to him first. And when you looked to him, he felt his breath catch in his chest. You didn’t look mad or upset, it was more a blank stare at him. And he understood you still needed time. But he would make sure to be close by, keeping an eye on you and looking out for you, ready for whenever you needed him. It was one way to show you he was there, and not going anywhere from now on.

The little things will show how I care, he told himself.

Benny watched you drive off, not moving to go after you, not yet anyways. Taking out a cigarette, he placed it between his lips before lighting it up. Taking a long drag, he removed the cigarette before releasing the smoke. Benny smoked the cigarette but didn’t enjoy it as much as he usually would, it was just a way to distract himself and fill time. It was you that he was craving more then the cigarette. Craved your attention, your smile, your lips, your warmth. He craved you wholly.

The following day you arrived at work just before nine, you knocked on the door and Sophia let you. With a morning to each other, you put away your bag and got ready for your day to begin. It was going to be a relative busy day, which you didn’t mind. It was yourself, Sophia and another woman named Ella. Between the three of you, you could get a good amount done.

When your first client showed up, an older woman who was a bit of a stick in the mud, you wasted no time in getting her set up in your chair. Draping the cape over her, you made pleasantries. Though you know she did not like you, just your work. She was a stuck up woman, who you knew talked about you behind your back. But you did your best work, that way she couldn't run you down on it.

It was just after ten, the salon bustling with activity, when a delivery man came into the shop, in his hand a lovely bunch of flowers. He stepped into the shop, a little shyly. You watched him in the mirror before you, thinking those flowers had to be from Sophia's husband for her.

Sophia spoke to the young man, taking the flowers before thanking him. He didn't waste time to leave the shop and move on to his next delivery. One of the clients, being nosey, asked Sophia if they were hers. She was looking at the beautiful flowers before spotting a card. A look of surprise crossed her face, before a small smile crossed her lips.

“Mrs Carpenter, I wish they were, but they're not for me" mused Sophia.

All the women in the shop looked to Sophia, then around at each other. All wondering which of them they were for. Some probably hoped their husbands had sent them flowers on a whim, to surprise and cheer them up as they got their hair done. But they’d be wrong.

With the flowers in hand Sophia stepped around from the counter. She moved across the room and came to stand beside you. She was smiling at you as she looked at you in the mirror. They were for you. You should have guessed from the various flowers that you liked, making up the arrangement.

“Seems these are yours Hun" commented Sophia, holding out the flowers for you. “Why don't you go put them in some water out the back. And read the card. I'll take over for you while you're gone".

Reluctantly you finished cutting the piece of hair you held in your fingers. “Ah, sure...” you replied, unsure and uneasy.

Taking the flowers from your boss, you slowly moved from the floor and into the back. All the time questioning who would have sent you flowers? You didn't wait, taking the card from the flowers and laying them on the counter by the sink. You held the small envelop in your hand, reading your name before turning it over. You took a moment, looking at it once more before shakily opening the seal.

Slowly you removed the card, and taking a breath before finally reading what it said:

Flower's for my girl, my wife.

I hope they brighten your day,

Just like you will always brighten mine.

Love Benny.

Your heart skipped a beat reading his words. Words that he couldn't always say. Word's he knew you needed to read. For Benny knew how your days at the salon could be. He had seen how you come home, tired and drained. How you would have good days and bad days. He would listen to you tell him about the bitchiest women, who were the worst to deal with. But also how joyous you were when you had a day of nothing but sweet, lovely women.

Benny sent you a reminder that you were the brightest thing in his life, just as he was yours. You smiled softly, clutching the card delicately in your hand. Your chest aching with thoughts of your husband, and missing him. Maybe it was time to start working on getting your relationship back on track. Yes, this was the start. But you would make sure that man knew he had some serious work to do if he wanted you back completely.

Fixing up the flowers in a make shift vase. You walked back onto the salon shop floor, silence rolling in when you came back. All eyes watching you as you placed the flowers on the front counter. They noticed the sparkle in your eyes, along with a small smile on your lips.

“Take it the contents of that card were good, huh?” Teased Sophia, various women giggling.

You rolled your eyes. “If you must know, it was...”

Sophia smiled brightly and giggled. “Guess he made a good peace offering".

“It's a start" you retorted before taking back over working on your client, leaving Sophia to go off to do what she had to do.

Locking up on your own tonight, you noticed no Benny waiting across the road today. Which surprised you. None the less you got into your car and drove home, the radio on softly and you hummed along. Your flowers were sitting on the seat next to you, every time you looked at them you would smile softly. You wondered where Benny was. Was he at the bar? Would you have to go to him? Or could he have changed his mind?

Turning onto your street, you slowly came closer to your house. Your concerns and worries died away upon seeing the person on your mind. He had parked his bike across the road, again he was resting against it. As you pulled into the drive way, you could see him watching you, cigarette between his lips.

Benny had chosen to wait for you at your shared home. He knew to wait outside rather then just waltzing inside. He didn't want to upset you, especially after sending you flowers at work. It could have got either way, in his favour or made it worse. He hadn’t long lit a cigarette and taken a few drags, before your car turned onto the street. He watched as you approached, and turned into the drive way. But Benny never moved, he was going to see if you would invite him in, back into the house and into your arms.

Getting out of the driver seat, you leant back in and grabbed the flowers. Once you were out and the door closed, you looked to Benny. Still he lent against the bike, but he straightened up once seeing the flowers in your hand. Looking to them, you brought them closer to you. After that you walked up the few stairs to the porch – the same ones Benny climbed before you slammed the door in his face – and came to the front door. You used your keys to unlock the door and pushed it open.

Crossing the threshold, you paused a moment. Then you turned around to look at your husband. You kept your face blank, but there was a calmness to it. You looked at Benny for a few minutes before closing the door, but kept it propped open. It was a way to tell him that if he wanted, he could come in. You were calm and ready to talk.

You crossed the lounge room and entered the kitchen. Placing your bag on the counter by the door way, you moved over to the sink. You placed the flowers down before fetching a glass vase. You proceeded to put some water into it, then began to undo the wrapping to the flowers.

Mean while, Benny had watched your every move from car to front door. When you stood in the door way looking to him, he was silently hoping you would call out to him to come in. When you didn't, and began to close the door, Benny thought he would have to try again tomorrow. But when the door was left open a bit, he released the breath he had been holding. Hope bubbled in him.

Benny stood up from his position against the bike, stretching out his arms as he began to walk towards the house. Taking one last drag of the cigarette, Benny removed it from his lips and flicking it away. The smoke slipping from his lips as he walked up the path to the stairs. Up he went, boots landing on the porch. He stood there for a moment, taking a deep breath before pushing the front door open slowly.

You weren't in the lounge room, but he could hear you moving around the kitchen. He closed the door before taking off his jacket and hanging it up the door. Benny crossed the room to the kitchen, stopping in the doorway. He lent against the wood frame, watching you silently.

You had most of the flowers in the vase, you were just putting the remaining in and moving them around when you felt his eyes on you. It sent a shiver down your spine. Who would speak first? How would this all go?

When you had finished, you picked up the vase and moved to place it by the window on the counter. You would figure out where to put them later, for now you had to have a conversation with your husband.

“Do you like them?” Benny softly asked, when you placed them down and stared at them.

“Yes" you replied, “I like them a lot, actually...”

He nodded, though you couldn’t see it. “Good...I remember you sayin’ how you liked those kinds of flowers...”

It was awkward, but it was something, right? To know Benny remembered what flowers you liked, it showed he had been listening. And he did, majority of the time. Slowly you turned around, choosing to lean against the counter. For the first time in days you took a good hard look at Benny.

He looked tired, maybe he hadn’t been sleeping properly. His clothes – different to what you’d last seen him in – were deeply wrinkled, most likely worn when sleeping or trying to sleep. From the way he was leaning, you could tell Benny was uneasy. Not because of you, but for what could happen between you right now. He was guarded, yet trying to keep his defences down just enough so you in turn would let yours down. You could tell he didn't want to fight, he wanted to sort this out like adults. No more running, for either of you.

“...I’m sorry for leavin' baby" Benny said, breaking the silence. “I shouldn’t have taken off like I did. Nor did I want to worry ya".

You nodded your head. “I know...”

“When I bring up leavin'...its somethin' in me that switches when a fight gets too much" Benny tried to explain. “I know its not an excuse, but I want ya to understand. But I promise I wont do it again...if I do, you can kick me out".

You chuckled. “Like I'd want you to go...” you said softly. “But Benny...you gotta know it did hurt. You just up and goin', no word of where ya were or if you were alright. I was worried sick".

Benny moved from the door frame to you, but stopped himself from pulling you to him, to hold you close and kiss away the hurt he caused. He looked at you with soft, guilty eyes. Waiting for you to give him the ok that he could touch you, hold you.

“I’m sorry for worryin' you, baby. If I could take it back, I would" Benny said softly, hands itching to rub up and down your arms.

“I know Benny...” your voice was soft, fragile. You looked at your husband with hurt eyes, only killing him more. You then looked to his hands and back to his baby blues. That was all Benny needed, for he stepped closer and pulled you to him.

Benny wrapped his arms around you, holding you closely to him for the first time in what felt like forever. Having you close felt right. You rested your head against his chest, your hands gripping his t-shirt. A few tears, that you hadn’t realised that had risen, escaped down your cheeks, they a mix of hurt but happiness.

“I’m sorry baby" Benny whispered into your hair.

You stood there for a few minutes, just letting Benny hold you and whisper sweet things into your ear. You felt better. You felt a part of you healing. Just like it was for Benny. Reluctantly Benny pulled back, moving to look at your face. Seeing the remints your tears left, he brought a hand up and whipped them away.

“Benny, you know we need to have a long talk, right?” You questioned softly, afraid he might get spooked.

He nodded. “I know, baby. I am ready for it...”

So, with a deep breath and standing where you were, not waiting to leave his space, you began. You told him how you'd been feeling, how him staying out effected you. That you wanted him to come home more, but not to take him away from the club. Benny heard you, he agreed to it. He told you how he adored that you respected his ties with the Vandals, and not trying to entirely change him, which made you laugh. Music to his ears after so long. Benny didn't ask much of you, as you had been perfect the whole time.

“I guess Johnny was right...” muttered Benny as he moved from you, as you crossed to the kitchen door way.

“Hmm?” you asked turning back to Benny.

“Johnny...I spoke to him the other day. I asked him what to do" Benny paused, gauging your reaction, with a nod he knew to go on. “He said I should grovel, or show ya what you mean to me...”

You held in a laugh at the suggestion of grovelling. “Is that why you sent flowers?”

He nodded, “but I meant them and what I wrote, baby. As well as watchin’ out for you, I wanted you to know I wasn't goin’ anywhere".

You smiled softly, moving to stand before your man. You cupped his cheek with one hand, thumb stroking his stubbled jaw. It was rough but soothing. You enjoyed feeling of it rubbing against your skin, be it your cheek, neck, inner thighs.

You moved your hand to back of Benny's head, gripping it firmly. You stared into his eyes. “I wouldn't mind you on your knees...but not necessarily grovellin’...”

You saw realisation flash in Benny's eyes when your words sunk in. Holding his head firmly, you pulled your husbands head down. Pulling his lips to meet your own, a firm closed lip kiss. The feeling of his lips against yours feeling like home. You closed your eyes, savouring your lips reuniting.

You moved to grip his hair, pulling a little. Causing Benny to groan in the most delightful way, which you had missed. His hands moved to your hips, pulling you close as he removed his lips for just a moment. Adjusting the angle, Benny brought his lips back to your waiting ones. This time it was a feverish, slightly open mouth kiss. Over and over, short and sweet. But soon Benny went in for a longer, deeper kiss.

He didn't wait for permission, his tongue delving into your mouth, seeking out your own. Tongues colliding, caressing the other in a fast paced dance. You moaned into his mouth, which only made Benny return with his own. Stepping forward, Benny backed you up against the small table in the kitchen. The edge digging into your backside. Without breaking the kiss, Benny picked you up and set you on the tables edge.

Your other hand moving to cradle is cheek, while its partner ran threw his hair before pulling it occasionally. That only spurred Benny on further. His hands moved to your slacks, unbuttoning them and pulling down the zipper. Pulling away from the kiss, you both took a moment to get some much needed air. And in that time Benny silently instructed you to lift your hips. You did, and he removed both your slacks and underwear, leaving you sitting in bare from the waist down.

Benny wasted no time falling to his knees, as you both had mentioned. This kind of grovelling was not for forgiveness, but for your own pleasure. Benny would worship every part of you, if it would make you happy.

His rough hands moved up your calf muscles, slowly over your thighs, pushing them open wider. His eyes drinking in the sight before him, Benny placed kisses along the inside of your thighs before coming to his destination. Slowly – tongue flat – he licked at the opening of your sex. Tongue finding your hard nub, applying the right amount of pressure as he caressed it. You moaned, head tilting back, as one hand moved to Benny's hair.

Benny worshipped you with his tongue, bringing moans and praises from your lips. When he would change movements with his tongue, you would pull his hair lightly, encouraging him further. Then when he added a finger inside of you, and then a second after sometime, he had you a mess upon the table. Your free hand moved to clutch the edge of the table, trying to ground yourself. Your man knew how to worship at your alter.

“I-I need you, baby" you managed to get out, between moans.

Reluctantly, Benny moved his head back. His baby blues, now dark with desire, staring at you as he licked his lips, tongue taking in your essence that had been resting there. After a brief moment of watching you, he rose to his feet, standing between your legs. Without delay, your hands moved to Benny's jeans. Undoing the button before pulling down the zipper. You pushed his jeans and boxers down his hips.

When he was freed from its confines, you wrapped a hand around his member. Slowly moving your hand up and down the shaft. The way Benny's breath caught in his throat, before a small strangled noise came from his parted lips, such noises pleased you. He leant in and captured your lips once more, sloppily and mindlessly at your touch and ministrations.

“Baby, I want you" Benny sighed against your lips.

You hummed in approval. “I want you too".

You guided him to your sex, Benny's hands coming to hold your hips. His tip brushed against your nub, drawing out a moan. He was teasing, but you'd allow it. You brought your hands up to his neck, one resting there while its partner tangled with the hair at the base of his neck.

Finally lining himself entrance, Benny began to enter you. The way he felt, stretching you, you sighed as you gripped his hair. That action cause Benny to buck his hips, finally sheathing himself completely in you. You both moaned in satisfaction of being one again.

Benny moved in, taking your lips into a deep kiss. He drew back his hips before snapping back into you, over and over. At first a gentle pace, but with your hold on his hair and nails at his neck digging in, Benny picked up speed. Before long you were head tilted back, moaning, as your husband slammed into you. His lips upon your neck, sucking and biting, while he too made beautiful sounds.

With the rise in pleasure that Benny was giving you, and feeling, it had to come to an end. The tension rising and twisting in the pit of your stomach. You tightened around him, only adding to Benny's please, and making him move more vigorously.

“Cum for me, baby" Benny said with a groan, fingers digging into the flesh of your hips. No doubt there’d be bruises later. “Ya gotta cum for me".

You nodded your head, whimpering at his words.

Benny placed his forehead to your own, his eyes staring deeply into yours. The pressure just building inside you both. Finally he hit that spot, and you tipped over the edge. You cried out, clenching tightly around his member, while you let your release wash over you. With a few more sloppy thrusts, Benny finally found his release. Buried within you, his seed coated your insides. His hands moving to the edge of the table, while catching his breath.

You opened your eyes, which had closed at some point, to look at your husband. He looked gorgeous, breathing heavily, trying to calm down after your vigorous activity. When his baby blues found yours, the smile that graced his perfect lips, melted your heart. You smiled right back at him. You both sharing a tender moment.

Those lips met with yours once more, but this time a chaste kiss. Pulling back, Benny reluctantly removed himself from you, which made you whimper at the lose. But with a promise that he'd gladly make it up to you later, you giggled with joy.

You watched as Benny pulled his boxers and jeans back up, fastening them before turning to you. He helped you down from the table, legs a little shaky from how well he had taken care of you. With some work and help, you had your own underwear and slacks back on. You kissed Benny's cheek to say thank you.

“Remind me to thank Johnny" you said off handily.

“Why's that baby?” Benny asked, confused.

You smirked. “For givin’ you the idea to grovel" was your reply before laughing.

Benny shook his head, pulling you close to him. “Oh”.

“And Benny" you said after a moment of silence. He waited for you to go on. “Next time you leave me, and hurt me, I will castrate you". Then you chuckled.

Benny softly laughed. “But what about kid's, baby. I'm gonna need them”.

Wrapped in his arms, you pondered Benny's words. “That is true...I will just take one then. You can give me kid's with just one, after all".

“Yes ma’am” Benny said in humour.

You both roared into laughter. Though you told him, as you laughed, you were serious. And it would be smart not to test you. Benny just continued to laugh before scooping you up over his shoulder, and carrying you off to your shared bedroom. Not without a small smack to your backside at you sassing him, as he walked up the stairs.

#benny cross x reader #benny cross x y/n #benny cross x you #the bikeriders x reader #austin butler x reader

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hellodropbear · 3 months ago

Text

Drawing.

mapi leon x ingrid engen x child

this is based off two requests so I hope you enjoy!

please keep sending requests I’m loving writing them :)

~~~~~~

Elena was with Camila when it happened, completely unaware of what was happening down on the training pitch.

She had been drawing all day, a new hobby she had picked up, trying to copy Mapi as she sketched in her notepad.

And as usual, Isabel wanted to be just like her Mami, so she had picked up a dropped pencil and started drawing on a receipt she found on the floor.

Ingrid would have thought she had found the new Picasso, the way Mapi was cheering.

"My baby is an artist!" It was the first time Isabel had drawn without being prompted. It was a circle on the receipt, with lots of lines in the middle, but Mapi couldn't have been prouder.

Isabel lived off Mapi's pride so she told Camila she wanted to practice her drawing that day and they had done just that, sat in the same spot - shaded from the sun but still outside - and drawing since she had been dropped off.

Isabel had just finished a drawing when it happened, although she had no idea, holding up the page and waving it in front of her babysitter to see.

"It's me! And Mami and Ingrid!" She pointed at the yellow blob with four legs. "And this is the puppy I want! I asked santa for a puppy this year, Camila."

Camila smiled, staring at the page intently.

"It's so good, Isabel! You're getting so good!"

She smiled proudly, trying to stop herself from grinning to much but entirely unable to shake off how good she felt from the praise.

"Thank you, Camila." She replied quietly, swinging her legs beneath her on the seat. "Your drawing is good too!"

The blonde looked down at her own piece of paper, somehow the cat she had been drawing was worse than the toddler's sketch of her family. She laughed, shaking her head.

"Not as good as yours though."

Isabel blushed awkwardly, not wanting to be rude but also not wanting to lie.

"We are both good." She nodded, proud of her decision to say that.

~~~~~~

Mapi had fallen harshly, hitting the ground with a deafening thud after landing awkwardly on her knee.

The scream she released was almost chilling and the training field fell silent immediately, time stopping as the medics raced over to the groaning defender.

It was the most pain she had ever been in, physically, and she had given birth to a full child not long ago. It was excruciating and she couldn't stop the tears in her eyes from slipping down her cheeks and onto the grass.

She winced as they poked and prodded at her knee, quickly coming to the conclusion that she would not be walking off the pitch and getting out the stretcher to get her to the medical room.

It was as she was being lifted that she saw both Ingrid and Alexia standing over her, worry etched deep into their features. Their worry made Mapi feel sick to her stomach, because it meant there was actually something wrong.

It wasn't just in her head like she had been silently praying for. It was real.

The prospect of missing out on another chunk of her career was almost sickening, and the thought of having to go through that intensive physiotherapy program after a knee injury was almost worse.

But nobody had mentioned an acl yet, so she thought she was ok.

Surely there aren't many other serious knee injuries that can take you out for so long, right?

Except Frido had a knee surgery not three months ago and she is far off her return. And there are so many other people who have had knee injuries that aren't acls - injuries that have forced them to retire.

She banished the word from her mind as soon as it appeared. It wouldn't be that bad, surely?

But as much as she tried, the thought that it might be the end simply would not leave her brain, taunting her as she became more and more hysterical in the physio bed.

It was only when she was loaded up into the ambulance that she began to question the whereabouts of her daughter, wondering why she hadn't been brought over as soon as Mapi had asked.

The staff said they would sort it out, only one of them stepping into the ambulance with Mapi, the rest hanging back at the facility as the ambulance drove away, an inconsolable Mapi laying in the back.

"It's just a knee, please, just go back and get Isabel!"

They had shaken their heads, apologising and telling her that she would see the toddler soon.

~~~~~~

She was confused when it was Alexia who accompanied Ingrid to come get her, because usually Mapi was the first person she saw when their training was over and they could go home.

She was confused by the look on their faces, almost anxious, both looking sad.

"Hey Is." Alexia ruffled her hair as she put her pencils down, observing the pictures in front of her.

"Where's Mami? I want to show her my drawings!"

She brandished two of the pieces of paper towards the blonde, who smiled sadly and knelt down beside her goddaughter.

"Mami fell over in training today."

Isabel frowned.

"Mami always falls over! It's so silly, Ale, she's always on the ground!"

Her frown was quickly replaced by giggles, picturing her mother falling over all the time, something she would usually laugh about after the game.

Alexia nodded, her smile diminishing.

"It was a bad fall, Is, Mami had to go to the hospital."

The toddler's face switched again, back to her frown. The hospital is big and scary, where you go when you're really really sick or really really injured.

People die in the hospital, when they're sick enough to be taken there.

Her lip trembled.

"Is Mami dying?"

She started to whimper and Alexia was quick to draw her into a hug.

"No! No, Mami is going to be ok, Isa, she just has a sore knee! She will be completely fine soon, she just wants to see you."

Isabel nodded, sniffling quietly.

"Can we see Mami?"

She looked up at Ingrid behind Alexia, who nodded easily.

"That's where we're going now, Is. We're going to see Mami."

Camila, who had been busily packing away their drawing tools, said a quick goodbye to the trio, smiling as Ingrid thanked her and walking out, waving goodbye to Isabel as she was hoisted onto Alexia's hip.

The toddler was quiet as they drove across the city, her fingers tight around the pieces of paper that Camila had left on the table as she stared out the window until the car parked.

Her spare hand was used to grip onto Ingrid's as they got out of the car, walking into the big and crowded building. They had to wait for a bit before they could see Mapi, so Isabel sat herself on Ingrid's lap, relishing in the comfort that the Norwegian's arms gave her as she held her close.

Her hand remained tight in Ingrid's as they were finally allowed to go see Mapi, slowly trailing behind as Alexia opened the door.

But Mapi only had eyes for her daughter, lighting up slightly as she spotted the curly brunette head tucked away behind Ingrid's leg.

"Isabel, come here." She smiled as the little face popped out from behind the leg, looking around anxiously before stepping forward and hesitantly standing beside Mapi's bed.

It was when she was lifted up to sit beside Mapi that she started crying, big and terrified sobs wracking her entire body.

It was so scary for someone so little, seeing her mother so sad and weak in the hospital bed, her usually bright features dulled and her usually enthusiastic voice more sullen.

The hospital was so big and the room was smelly. Mapi was sick and there was nothing Isabel could do about it.

So she cried into her mother's arms, scared about what was going to happen and scared about where she was.

"It's ok, it's ok." Mapi tried to reassure her daughter. "I'll be ok, Is. it'll all be ok."

It was a few minutes before Isabel calmed down, wiping her eyes and taking a deep breath, holding out the little drawings she had chosen to bring.

"You did more drawings?"

Mapi smiled excitedly, like a child on Christmas morning about to open all her presents.

Isabel nodded, pointing at the first one.

"Me and you, and Ingrid." She pointed at the yellow blob again. "My doggy."

The Spaniard shook her head, smiling and planting a kiss on the top of Isabel's head.

"What about Bagheera?"

Isabel shrugged.

"My doggy is more important."

Ingrid, on the other side of the room was taking deep and controlled breaths, much to Alexia's amusement.

Maybe a month ago now, they had been on their daily walk in the park and Isabel had seen a little puppy, a baby golden retriever and had fallen in love.

Thankfully, the owner was nice and allowed the toddler to pet her dog, but Ingrid had stood there with silent frustration on her face because unlike Mapi, she knew they were going to have to deal with a dog obsessed three year old for the foreseeable future.

And she was right, because every day since, Isabel had asked over and over when she was going to get her puppy, even writing it in her note to santa as Ingrid had been her scribe, silently fuming at the inane request.

But while the Norwegian had been reasonable and realistic, Mapi had been overly enthusiastic at the idea of a new puppy running around the apartment, clearly forgetting that they had an excited toddler and cat to deal with already.

They had taken the argument to training, Ingrid shooting daggers at her girlfriend as she complained about Ingrid stealing Isabel's childhood happiness by refusing the puppy, targeting the younger girls when she was asking who thought a golden retriever would be a good idea.

The brunette didn't want Isabel to be sad, but she just didn’t think it was a good idea.

Mapi on the other hand thought a puppy would be the best possible addition to their family.

"Your doggy is so important." The Spaniard pointedly smiled at Ingrid, who rolled her eyes and shook her head.

~~~~~~

Isabel was happy in Mapi's lap as the doctors returned with the news.

Mapi was even more happy to have her daughter to hold onto as she received the news that she absolutely did not want to hear.

She allowed a single tear to slip from her eyes, before wiping them and smiling.

Nobody has died, she realised. Everyone she loves is alright, everyone she loves is happy.

Since the death of her best friend, Mapi has found that her reaction to bad news has become a lot more positive, learning to look on the bright side.

There's always a silver lining to every cloud, no matter how dark.

The dark cloud that came with Luis' death came with a blindingly bright silver lining - her baby daughter.

This injury would no doubt come with one too, but she has to give it time to figure out exactly what that might be.

Because everyone is ok.

Everything will be ok.

And when Isabel stood up beside her, bending down to wrap her arms around Mapi's neck, planting a kiss on her cheek and wiping away the singular stray tear, she realised that she had everything she possibly needed right there.

Alexia could see that too. She knew Mapi would be ok which is why she felt it was alright for her to leave, to go home.

Unlike last time she was in that bed, the centre back was happy. She had Isabel, she had Ingrid. She had what she needed and it was so clear how appreciative she was of her two girls.

So Alexia placed a kiss on Mapi's head, gave Isabel a cuddle and Ingrid a hug and she drove back home, disappointed with the news but perfectly certain that her best friend would be alright.

Mapi was allowed home that night, so long as she used her crutches until the surgery in two days. It meant not really moving except to go to the bathroom and to move between her bedroom and the lounge room but they would make do.

Ingrid could live upstairs in the Spaniard's apartment for a bit to make sure Isabel was alright. To look after Mapi who wouldn't be able to look after herself.

"Ok, Is. Mami has to be careful with her crutches now." Ingrid took the toddler's hand, using her spare hand to help Mapi up and onto the crutches.

Isabel looked on wearily. It was weird, seeing that her Mami couldn't really walk. The toddler had always seen her mother as such a strong and brave woman, it was hard to see her so helpless.

Her face remained downtrodden until Mapi used the end of one of her crutches to softly nudge the back of Isabel's head, smiling and winking when the toddler turned around in shock.

"Mami!" She giggled softly, her spare hand coming up to cover her mouth to hide the laughs.

"What? I didn't do anything!"

She laughed more, shaking her head and leaning into Ingrid's leg.

"Mami is so silly, Ingrid!"

The Norwegian chuckled, agreeing with a nod.

~~~~~~

It was only the second time that Isabel had slept over at Ingrid's place, the last time was when Mapi had driven all the way to Zaragoza overnight just to surprise her father on father's day.

She liked it though because there was no spare room which meant she could sleep in Ingrid's bed with Ingrid all night.

And after the scary day, she was in desperate need of some serious cuddles.

They had to wake up early in the morning for the surgery but Isabel had fallen asleep in the car journey there, only waking up in Ingrid's arms once they had entered the hospital.

Mapi was back in that hospital gown, her face void of piercings and the little beaded necklaces that they had made together a few months ago. She forced a weak smile on her face as Isabel looked at her, trying to reassure her daughter that she was ok, that everything would be ok soon.

The toddler wasn't convinced, burying her head in Ingrid's neck and mumbling incoherently about being scared.

She remained put in the Norwegian's arms as her mother was rolled into the operating room and as they waited for the doctor to bring them the good news once it was all done.

Even when Mapi was back in the regular hospital room, she clung onto Ingrid, worried that she would hurt her mother even more if she touched her.

But when she woke up, all Mapi wanted was to see her daughter, to see she was ok.

"My lion cub." She mumbled groggily, her eyes only half open but able to see where Isabel was sat, her eyes darting anxiously around the room. "Come here, Is. I missed you."

Dutifully, the child walked over to her bedside, hesitantly placing her hand in Mapi's outstretched one.

"Hello Mami." She frowned at her mother's pale complexion, quickly retracting her hand from her mother's cold one.

"Hey, hey. Come back, Is. I'm alright, see! Just a bit tired, that's all."

She looked up uncertainly, watching as Mapi shuffled over and patted the space beside her.

"Here, come on. I need my girl." She smiled down at Isabel, who bit her lip and slowly climbed up onto the bed.

"I love you Mami." She lay her head on Mapi's chest, her legs to the side of her. "I don't like that you're sick."

Mapi just smiled, chuckling lightly.

"I don't like that I'm sick either, Is. I love you too."

Isabel smiled easily, her worries squashed as Mapi drifted back to sleep.

Ingrid joined them quickly after Mapi fell asleep, sitting on the armchair on her other side and promptly falling asleep with her hand holding Mapi's arm, clearly exhausted from the stress of the day.

Isabel wasn't far behind, drifting off easily in the safety of Ingrid and Mapi.

It was what the Spaniard woke up to not long later, both of her girls right there with her, fast asleep but somehow still comforting her, still reassuring her that everything would be alright.

It was the first time she had been in a hospital bed but so sure that everything would be ok.

As long as she had her two girls, everything would be perfectly fine.

She remained certain as she said goodbye to them later that evening, watching as Isabel held Ingrid's hand tightly as they walked out of the room and headed home.

And Isabel was sure that everything would be alright later that night, warm in Ingrid's arms as they both wondered how Mapi was doing.

~~~~~~

The next few days were a whirlwind of emotions for the whole family.

Ingrid was hovering, so Mapi told her to go back to her apartment for the night. She regretted it of course, she missed the Norwegian as soon as the door closed behind her.

Isabel didn't know what to do now that her routine had changed so much.

There was no more going to training because she could just stay home with Mapi.

Except her mother had just had a surgery and was exhausted, always sleeping and if she wasn't sleeping she was too tired to move, too tired to entertain Isabel, no matter how hard she tried.

There were no more bedtime stories or bedtime cuddles. Mapi couldn't move enough to get off the sofa, let alone down onto the floor of Isabel's room where she used to kneel.

Instead, the toddler got her cuddles on the sofa and Ingrid would tuck her in and read the story.

But Ingrid's Spanish wasn't very good, and her voices weren't as funny as Mapi's.

She struggled to sleep for the first few nights, feeling worried, feeling sad.

Mapi struggled to sleep because she had been sleeping all day and when night fell she was suddenly overcome with an intense guilt that she couldn't care for herself or her child; that Isabel had to sit around all day just playing with the cat for entertainment.

The toddler tried the bedroom first, expecting to see Mapi and Ingrid asleep in there like usual. Her lion was in her arms, ready to curl up between them and fall fast asleep, comforted by their warm bodies.

But the bed was empty and made perfectly, so she continued down into the lounge room where she had said goodnight to Mapi a few hours earlier.

She didn't expect for Mapi to still be lying on the sofa and she didn't expect her to be wide awake, staring straight ahead in the distance.

"Mami." Isabel got her attention, the Spaniard's eyes immediately softening as they fell on her daughter.

"Hey Is. Come here.” She patted the sofa beside her, noticing the toddler's hesitancy.

She nodded, smiling weakly and running over to jump up on the sofa, immediately snuggling into Mapi's side.

"What are you doing awake, my lion cub?"

She wrapped her arm around Isabel's small form, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

"Couldn't sleep, Mami." Her voice was quiet, muffled by the fabric of Mapi's shirt.

"It's alright. You can sleep right here with me."

The child fell asleep quickly and Mapi wasn't far behind.

It was how Ingrid found them the next morning, wrapped up in each others arms on the sofa.

Not wanting to disturb the peace, she quickly began cleaning up around the house, putting everything away before getting started on some breakfast.

Isabel woke up first, the scent of pancakes cooking enough to rouse her, her eyes snapping over to the kitchen where Ingrid was stood, her back facing the toddler.

"Ingrid!" She smiled softly, unwrapping her body from Mapi's arm and hopping off the sofa, walking over towards the Norwegian who spun around at the sound of the toddler’s voice.

"Morning Is. Sleep well?"

She shook her head, leaning into Ingrid's leg.

"Couldn't sleep, so Mami helped me."

The Norwegian frowned, using her spare hand to stroke Isabel's head.

"That's nice of her. Do you want the first pancake?"

She nodded easily, grinning as the small pancake was handed to her and eating it quickly.

"Should I wake up Mami for breakfast?"

Ingrid hesitated, softly shaking her head after a moments thought.

"No, Mami is still tired. We can make her some pancakes when she wakes up and I'll let you decorate them with the fruits that she likes, alright?"

Isabel nodded sadly, resting her head on Ingrid's leg and palming the hem of her shorts.

"When will Mami be better?"

"Soon, Is. She'll be better soon."

~~~~~~

Isabel was relatively quiet as she ate her pancakes, barely consuming half of them before she pushed the plate back to Ingrid who stood up and took it, placing a kiss on the crown of her head.

She was worried about her, to be honest, and had half a mind to take her to training and get Camila to watch her.

Mapi was a good mother, that was never a doubt, but Ingrid began to question whether it was good for Isabel to stay inside all day with her as she fell in and out of sleep, unable to get up from the sofa without help.

But bringing up that issue to the Spaniard would send her down a long spiral of self doubt and upset, so she made the decision to leave it, instead deciding to just come back as soon as training was over and seeing what she could do.

The problem was, as Mapi woke up and Ingrid tried to leave, Isabel seemed set on going with the Norwegian, her backpack full of colouring and some snacks she gathered from the cupboard, her shoes on and her bedroom tidy.

"Is, you're staying here today, staying here with Mami." Ingrid knelt down, brushing the hair from her face. "And you'll be good for her and give her all the cuddles she needs until I get back in a few hours, alright?"

She shook her head, frowning.

"I draw! With Camila!"

Mapi sighed quietly from the sofa, intervening.

"Camila's not there today because you can stay at home with me!" She mustered on a smile and Isabel looked up at her, nodding sadly.

"Ingrid will be right back after training though, you're not stuck here with me for too long."

The Norwegian could practically hear Mapi's heart break, she was already thrown deep into the pool of self-consciousness and doubt. It was as if a single word could change her whole perspective and Ingrid had seen the clear flip over and over again.

And the self-doubts that Mapi carried would never be understood or accepted by Ingrid, who spent every day trying to subtly prove to her that she was a good mother, that Isabel loved her.

This incident wouldn't support all the progress she's made.

"Is, go give Mami a hug alright? I'll be back soon." Ingrid smoothed out the toddler's hair, nudging her softly towards the sofa and watching as the child jumped on and lay down, resting her head on Mapi's shirt.

The Spaniard's arm snaked back around the child, her spare hand waving at Ingrid as she walked out the door, her attention turning back to her daughter on her lap as soon as the door was closed.

"I'm sorry I'm not very fun at the moment, Is. And I'm sorry that we can't go to training like usual, I know how much you like your days with Camila."

Isabel nodded, shrugging.

"It's ok, Mami, you didn't fall over on purpose." She leant further into her mother's arm. "You don't have to be sad though, I don't like when you're sad."

"I don't like being sad either! But it's ok because when you're around, I'm always happy." She smiled softly. "You make me so happy, my lion cub."

"You make me happy too, Mami. Even when you can't play with me!"

She giggled and Mapi knew exactly where she was going.

"But when I get my doggy you won't have to play with me because I can play with her. Or him. I can play with my doggy."

The Spaniard smiled, running her hands through her daughter's hair and humming quietly.

"You still have to convince Ingrid on that one."

Isabel huffed in a way that was entirely too serious for a 3 year old.

"I don't know why... why doesn't Ingrid want a doggy?"

"She thinks you're enough work as it is, my lion."

She looked up, completely outraged.

"I'm not work! I am a good girl, even Ingrid told me that!"

Mapi just laughed, adjusting her position on the sofa.

"How about you run and grab your pens and paper and I can show you how to do some drawings today?"

The toddler's face switched from outrage to excitement in a split second as she bounced down from the sofa, running to her room and grabbing her supplies.

She was used to drawing with Camila who tried her best, but was not very good at all. Getting to draw with her Mami, who was the best drawer that Isabel had ever seen was a novelty and the way she practically bounced back to the sofa emphasised just how excited she was.

It was how Ingrid found them when she got home, Isabel wedged in an entirely uncomfortable position on Mapi's lap but it didn't look like she could care less - she was completely enthralled by Mapi's drawing of a puppy on the paper, her own pen and paper long discarded on the sofa beside her.

Isabel's eyes lit up as the door opened, immediately beckoning Ingrid over, completely disregarding her post-training exhaustion and discomfort.

"Ingrid! Look at Mami's drawing! It's a doggy."

The Norwegian shook her head, walking over to the duo on the sofa and sitting down beside them.

"It's a good puppy, isn't it!"

She nodded, looking over at Mapi with a glint in her eyes.

"I was thinking on the way home." She paused, her eyes flicking between the mother and daughter, each of them wearing equal expressions of suspense and interest.

"I think that you've been so good, Is, since Mami got hurt."

Mapi started to understand where this was going, a smile growing on her face while Isabel remained completely in suspense.

"I think that you've shown to us that you're responsible and I think you've shown us that you deserve a dog too."

The child's face lit up immediately and she almost knocked Mapi over with the speed she threw herself out of her position and right into Ingrid.

"I'm getting a doggy!"

~~~~~~

It was the three month anniversary of Mapi injuring her knee.

Christmas had come and gone, and Isabel had tried desperately hard to hide her disappointment when a puppy hadn't shown up in her stocking.

They had wanted to give it to her then, but couldn't justify taking it to Zaragoza for Christmas, nor could they justify buying a puppy right before their trip to Norway for new years.

Ingrid also hadn't wanted to buy a puppy when Mapi was still on crutches, still not entirely able to look after her child alone, let alone a new dog as well. Ingrid was mostly around, but the away trips would be almost impossible with a dog and a toddler if Mapi still could not walk.

So Isabel had been surprised and excited by her other gifts, things that had been used to death already. The thought of a dog never really left her brain, but she managed to push it to the side as she opened her Christmas presents and ate the Christmas food that her Grandmother had provided.

But now it was March. It was finally getting warmer and Mapi was finally returning to the pitch for training.

Off the pitch, she was completely recovered, back to kneeling by Isabel's bed every night for bedtime stories and cuddles, back to running around with the toddler on their (almost) daily walks to the park.

Ingrid had dressed her this morning, making sure her favourite dog shirt was clean the night before, sliding it over her head with a pair of jeans and sneakers, pulling her crazy morning hair back into braids.

The toddler had pointed down at the dog on her shirt, babbling in an incoherent mix of Spanish and Norwegian about how much she loved dogs.

Ingrid could only smother down her grin, thinking about the hidden stash of dog toys and supplies they had been building over the past couple of months - shoved into the ensuite of the master bedroom.

Not a week after she had agreed to buying a dog, Ingrid had signed her name on an obscure package addressed to Mapi, watching on with amusement as the Spaniard opened it up and admired the leash and dog bed that had arrived.

She was bored, apparently, sat at home alone and unable to participate in the walks that Ingrid was taking Isabel on. The boredom materialised as online shopping and she had guiltily admitted to Ingrid that she was expecting a whole lot of packages in the next few weeks.

They had kept an eye out for ads advertising golden retriever puppies, almost giving up when it seemed impossible to find one anywhere.

But three weeks ago, Mapi's mother had seen an ad up in her hometown and immediately sent it off to the couple and the next day, they had confirmed their purchase of a brand new golden retriever.

The Spaniard collected it from Zaragoza alone, under the guise of visiting home to clean out her old bedroom - an excursion that she was sure Isabel would have zero interest in attending.

The dog had been left with Alexia over night and they were surprising the toddler that day in the park.

And the little girl had absolutely no idea what would be awaiting her at the end of her walk.

~~~~~~

Isabel swung her arms happily between Mapi and Ingrid, a grin on her face as she chattered excitedly to Mapi about what she and Ingrid had gotten up to yesterday, explaining her experience of drinking a hot chocolate in such depth that Mapi wondered how long she had been concocting this story.

They stopped in at a small café for lunch on the way, trying to stall their walk so Alexia would be there before them and also so they wouldn't have to try feed her when she was inevitably excited about her brand new puppy that she had been thinking about for months.

But the anticipation was worth it as soon as she saw her godmother holding a lead that was attached to a little golden puppy, running around excitedly with it's ball.

The expression on Isabel's face was worth more than anything they had ever brought, her entire face lifting up, a smile that showed off her complete set of teeth as she spun around to look at her mother and Ingrid.

"Mami, Ingrid, is that-" It was like she didn't want to tempt fate by asking the question, just in case the dog wasn't hers.

She didn't think they would have done that to her, not in the slightest.

"Ale has your new puppy, Is. You can go say hello."

But the child didn't run to the puppy immediately as the couple had expected, instead charging into her mother first, wrapping her arms around the Spaniard and thanking her over and over again, moving to do the same to Ingrid not long after.

"Of you go, Is, go meet your puppy!" Ingrid grinned as she nudged her away, watching on with joy as the toddler practically sprinted down to the puppy who immediately jumped up onto her, covering her face with wet kisses.

"I think we made the right decision." Mapi looked at Ingrid hesitantly, aware that this still wasn't ideal for the Norwegian.

But the expression on the brunettes face said something completely different, a huge smile stuck on her face as she watched Isabel squeal with delight at her new dog, the happiest she had ever seen her.

"No, Maria, this was the right decision. Definitely."

Mapi beamed, leaning into her girlfriend's side and wrapping her arm around Ingrid's waist.

"She's so happy."

Alexia approached them not long after, her hand still holding onto the leash.

"I believe this is yours now." She smiled, holding it out to Mapi. "I can't believe anyone tried to deny her of this."

Mapi rolled her eyes, grabbing the leash, completely sick and tired of Alexia's argument about how dogs are so much better than cats.

"Is loves Bagheera too, she's just a dog person."

Alexia chuckled, shaking her head.

"No goddaughter of mine will ever be a cat person."

They continued to watch Isabel with the puppy right until she walked back over to her three adults, the dog following dutifully behind her.

"Mami, I want to call her Baloo, Bagheera's friend! Can I call her Baloo?"

Mapi smiled easily, using her spare hand to stroke her daughter's head.

"Of course you can call her Baloo, I love it."

~~~~~~

alright hope you enjoyed!

(I may or may not have given up on editing this after five minutes so it’ll probably be edited in the morning)

let me know what you think and let me know what else you want to see

have a good day!!

#mapi leon #ingrid engen #mapi leon x ingrid engen #woso #woso fanfics #barca femeni #fcb femení #alexia putellas

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ns-media · 5 months ago

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Incredibly long analysis on Oda's thoughts on romance, way of portraying romance and LuNami in One Piece

Okay, so I want to make a LOOOOONG post about something interesting that's been on my mind for a while, about romance in One Piece. I was originally going to post it on Twitter but this post is way too long for that platform. I always preferred posting here, but not too many people are here nowadays. Anyway, onto the main topic here. I'll be talking about Oda's portrayal of and thoughts about romance, how he views it, why he puts a good chunk of it in "non-canon" material and so on. This post is to understand Oda's perspective on romance and why he goes about it the way he goes about it. I'm a LuNami fan, so this is also to make a point about how he decides to portray them.

Do not read this if you don’t want to see me express unfavorable opinions (and also factual information) about LuHan and other ships I just don't see working out, as they basically don’t fall in line with how romance works in Oda’s work. I'm not mean-spirited about it though. (Also I'll be bringing up SanPu for a bit too, in a favorable way) I am guaranteed to get at least one eyebrow raise or a "What the fuck are you talking about?" from any person reading this whole thing, but that's fine. I'll only tag LuNami because this is for LuNami fans.

Anyhow, in an interview with Aoyama back in 2022, Oda stated how he doesn’t want to include actual romance into his story and how he’s fine with one-sided stuff. His reason is because he fears he would lose certain fans for doing so. This is an interesting statement.

First, if you read this up here, it essentially confirms how Oda doesn’t see one-sided affection as romance so there’s no reason to think that Sanji or Boa’s affection are hints when they’re both for comedic effect.

The reason they're one-sided in the first place is not because he's teasing you with the idea that the other might return that affection one day, no he treats it as a joke, it's as straightforward as that. I don't understand how people try to act like it's not purely for humor. If he intended on making something like Boa and Luffy’s relationship as something to seriously consider being “romance” then Boa wouldn’t be so humorously delusional even after being rejected twice in back to back chapters, she’d be taken aback at the very least. But doesn’t. Why? It’s a joke.

I mean for heaven’s sake, whenever this gag is used with Nyon around, she’s the voice of reason, y’know, a woman who also experienced the same kind of delusional love once? Again it’s all a joke, the entire point of Boa’s gag is that it’s love that’s supposed unreciprocated.

Also, the second time he rejected her was him rejecting her before she even got to ask anything...

This lets us know that Luffy knows how persistent she in trying to get with him and also implying that Luffy is going to say no, no matter what, as he knows how desperate and persistent she is about it. Now that I think about it, Rayleigh left Luffy to train by himself for 6 months before the timeskip fully ended, Rayleigh's supervision made it to where Boa couldn't get to Luffy, but after he left, was fully capable of doing so. I mean just look at Boa down here:

Yeah she said she won't go and remain strong for Luffy's sake, but with her being the way she is, I wouldn't be surprised if Boa in those 6 months went to the island and was asking Luffy multiple times which was how he was able to reject her before even knowing. If what we saw in Chapter 598 was the first time he rejected her, he wouldn't be so quick to know that she was gonna ask it again when he rejected her the 2nd time on panel. We know that the Kuja girls KNEW that Rayleigh left half a year ago as well, meaning they must've gotten to the island itself if they found this out. Unless Rayleigh told them directly, which, to be fair, is likely, but if he didn't, this implies that Boa has been talking to Luffy on the island in those 6 months, and if so, would definitely have brought up marriage at least once, or a lot, honestly, thus explaining Luffy being able to shut down her marriage request before even knowing what she was going to say, because he already heard it THAT much in those 6 months. Now, I don't truly believe that Oda thought of it like that, but it does make logical sense so I figured "why not bring it up".

Also, in a 2014 interview with Fuji TV about the 3D2Y special, Oda's editor mentioned that not only Buggy but BOA bring in the comedic elements into the arc and how they're comic relief characters, again making it obvious that even his editors understand that Boa’s infatuation is a complete joke for the sake of comedy. Same with Sanji. Being a gentleman is part of his character but he tries to score every woman. Why? Jokes.

Even if you somehow use the argument of “Oh but this behavior of his is even stronger towards Nami specifically” I don’t see how any of that can be seen as a “shipping hint” and not a gag that’s exaggerated even further, cause he’s still hitting on every woman. Besides, the first time he actually got his heart broken by a woman was by Pudding, and never Nami, Robin and every other woman despite getting rejected a billion times by them. Why? Because the Nami/Robin affection is for comedy while the story between Sanji and Pudding is supposed to be taken seriously.

It's why Oda went out of his way for Sanji to write a dedicated story between the two, with Sanji getting genuinely sad when Pudding talked shit about him only for everything to turn around by the end where she actually likes him. THAT is a romance story with substance behind it, and Oda clearly wrote it like there is merit to it. There is obviously a story written here with a beginning to an end, Sanji acts no different towards Nami in Wano than in say, Punk Hazard. Beginning of Whole Cake vs end of Whole Cake Sanji is on entirely different terms with Pudding and she is on entirely different terms with him. There is development, a plot, a purpose that impacts the plot. Not just "Haha jokes".

Soooo yeah that’s the first thing I wanted to address regarding that statement.

Second, Oda saying “I don’t want to include romance because I don’t wanna lose fans” may seem like an odd thing for him to say at first given how Oda post-timeskip portrays actual romance in his story, and plenty of times, I might add. This was when Oden/Toki was relatively fresh too so there’s no way he forgot he did so. Because of that, Oda is referring to romance for specific characters rather than for the characters he’s already written romance stories about.

So this basically means that Oda’s fear of losing readers obviously doesn’t stem from the romance stories he has already written, it’s very clear from the interview that he’s hesitant to write romance out of fear of losing some of his readers. But of course as we know, he clearly has written blatant romance already, primarily with non-main characters like Rebecca’s parents, Rouge/Roger, etc. It makes plenty of sense for Oda to not be afraid or hesitant to write romance stories/romantic elements for those non-main characters.

Because well, those stories written are basically all backstories that are over in a few chapters (Senor Pink/Russian) or briefly talked about (like the aforementioned Rouge and Roger.) As such, there’s no long-term impact on the story.

Notice how in the only case of a STRAW HAT having a blatant romance story (Sanji/Pudding), it is a character who's most defining character trait is his lovey dovey/romantic behavior? Oda most likely felt more comfortable giving a romance story to Sanji specifically as that goes with his personality, and likely felt he would not be getting backlash for giving the LOVE cook a romantic story. (Because again keep in mind he clearly stated he's hesitant to include romance due to losing fans of the characters getting romantically involved)

But STILL, even with all of that, the impact of this love story from Sanji's perspective is just erased entirely as Pudding erased his memories, as if Oda is being particularly protective of the Straw Hats getting impacted by any obviously permanent romantic development. (Because as I said SanPu is on entirely different terms from the beginning to the end of WCI, so their romance plot had impact on the story.)

So, because of how romance in One Piece is basically all deceased/minor characters having short backstories or in the case of the one Straw Hat who got a blatant romance story, (I said blatant cause you could say Usopp/Kaya, but it’s not super obviously blatant the way SanPu is) erased from his brain, there’s no obvious long-term impact that romance seems to have in One Piece.

I very much think that this “obvious long-term impact” is what Oda wants to avoid so badly, particularly for the Straw Hats (the main characters of the story). This is because this long-term impact would make it apparent to his readers that romance has a fundamental and established role in the story of One Piece as something important, which goes against his target audience of boys, who, from his point of view, don’t like it.

This idea Oda has stems from how Jump used to be when he was a kid, as clearly stated in the interview with Aoyama. It’s his own experiences with how boys manga are “supposed” to be coupled with his insecurities about being embarrassed to write romance that makes him hesitant to do just that.

This is why I scoff at the idea of “No romance in the crew” being used as an actual argument. People use that argument as if Oda himself is completely against the idea of anybody in the crew getting together, despite the painfully crystal clear reason for “no romance in the crew” being to not alienate readers and lose said readers as he is under the impression that boys won’t like that because of how he thinks that everyone still has this idea that they should be segregated due to how it was when he was a kid himself. It's why he said "People are so supportive of couples!" all surprised in the interview with Aoyama, clearly being surprised about the positive reception it gets that he didn't think it would get. It has nothing to do with him hating the very concept of romance, it's him being under the wrong impression on what his young male readers would find acceptable or not.

There is a reason why almost every single time that he brings up or hints at any, ANY hesitance or opposition towards romance in the crew, he brings up his readers. ALMOST. EVERY. SINGLE. TIME. He tries to please his target audience. “It’s a shounen manga” or “the readers” he keeps saying, despite not even being asked about his readers' opinion. "I don't think there will be any romance in that crew" is said clearly because "It's a shounen manga THEY won't be interested" not because "OMG WTF I HATE ROMANCE BETWEEN THEM GTFO!" the way people intentionally misconstrue this to be. He even says "Nami probably sees all the good aspects/qualities of those guys, BUT One Piece isn't a romance" So he LITERALLY says that his reason isn't "She does not like any of her crewmates in a romantic way!" but instead says "Well it's not a story about romance and I think only girls care so I won't show or depict it because I think my primary young male audience wouldn't give a shit". Nothing about himself. Legitimately nothing about his own opinions about supposedly being disgusted with nakama romance. Gotta love the made-up narrative being presented as a fact to the fandom at large.

Oda's "but" could have EASILY been followed up with something like this: "Nami probably sees all the good aspects/qualities of those guys, BUT she doesn't see them in a romantic way and I don't want it to be that way" or something, but instead essentially opted for "Nami probably sees all the good aspects/qualities of those guys, BUT think of my young male audience! They don't care about romance. They'd probably hate it if I decide to capitalize on Nami seeing their good qualities as romantic, right? After all, only girls want it! It must only be them for asking this!" What I am saying isn't even me grasping at straws, it's RIGHT THERE. "I don't think there will be romance in the crew cause boys will not like it". Bam, that's all it is. I know I am repeating myself but it seriously bears repeating because of how so many people see that one answer in particular as the ultimate evidence against Mugiwara romance. Oda seems like he's being evasive on purpose with that answer, talking about how concerned he is about the opinions of boys while not once talking about whether or not he would like to write it or not.

Also for the love of everything can we get someone who has the untranslated version of this answer? Given how Japanese language works I would not be surprised in the slightest if he's even more evasive than in VIZ's translation.

How people come to the conclusion that he’s disgusted by the very idea of a Mugiwara couple being a thing is beyond me when it’s as clear as day that he opens his mouth about “his readers” and “his audience” for a reason.

I mean hell, Strong World was originally going to be a movie about Nami’s past and the reason he changed it was because of how he kept his TARGET AUDIENCE in mind. He kept the young boys he appealed to in mind despite clearly wanting to write something else at first.

Him pleasing his audience doesn’t equal “I really don’t want this to be a thing”. If anything, he restricts his desires purely on the basis that he thinks whatever he wants to write is not what other people want, why the hell wouldn't you think this applies to the idea of "no romance in the crew" when he literally spoonfed us the reason being exactly that in the earlier photo of the Jump Fests '09 interview?

He clearly wants to avoid it because of this idea that his male audience will take issue with it and not because he doesn’t wanna do it himself. This why he said “Seriously!?” all surprised when Aoyama said he wouldn’t leave if he decided to implement romance into his story, and he was saying this to a man who writes romance and has already said “I love romantic comedies” 2 sentences ago. Oda is THAT unsure of himself and he's THAT much under the impression that males have no interest in romance. I rarely if ever see people bring this up.

There's a sense of insecurity Oda has on the topic of romance. When Aoyama said “I guess you have no interest in love comedies” Oda didn’t say yes or even imply that he's right about that being the case. He just said “I’m not confident I could draw those, it's a bit embarrassing” Again, he's insecure about it. Not AGAINST it. He basically spells it out for you. But many people still pretend as if he's saying all of this because he's supposedly disgusted by romance among the crew being a thing, only because that made up narrative supports what THEY want to be the case, instead of looking into the actual reason for as to why he's saying all these things.

As I said before, almost every single time he is hesitant to write romance he mentions his audience, but in the situations he doesn't bring up his audience, he instead mentions how he's embarrassed to do it. I mean when asked in a 2019 interview with Oda, he was embarrassed when asked if he incorporates arguments with his wife into how Nami argues, perhaps showcasing how he's embarrassed to talk about his wife (ya know, the person he loves) in other words, the person he's romantically attached to. This is definitely a stretch so I'm not saying that I seriously think that this is more proof on how he's embarrassed/insecure about romance, but I figured it was worth bringing up. But embarrassment aside, he also cares a lot about his manga keeping face to his boy audience.

This leads me to the next thing… Oda’s involvement with the movies. Notice how, every single time he’s involved with writing the plot there’s always some LuNami stuff he wants to throw in there?

Strong World obviously, as well as parts of Film: Gold. Now, at first things seem… odd. The LuNami hints between the two in those films are quite a bit more on the nose than anything Oda has written in the manga, like a oh-so clear parallel between Tesoro and Luffy. At first it puzzled me why Oda would relegate these stories and moments to movies. And then, if you read the Aoyama interview, things start to make sense why he approaches things this way.

Movies aren’t treated as a main part of the story by people, it’s not the manga. You have to go out of your way to see the movie. There's no need to watch the movie to understand One Piece's main manga story. Look at the contrast between Chapter 0 and Strong World itself. Chapter 0 is manga content and it seems so much more concerned with the action and hype the young boys are there for (obviously cause it takes place decades before the current canon but that was a deliberate choice, it could've easily been like how Glorious Island, being a prequel to Film Z, was contemporary to the story). While there still is a bunch of that hype/action in the movie itself, there are also romantic elements thrown in there. It's kind of like Oda's experimenting, testing the waters with those movies. It makes sense for him to approach it this way. People who so happen to hate the addition of (LuNami) romance are willing to let things slide and overlook it because said romance is in a movie they don't have to watch.

So basically a non-mandatory-to watch movie provides Oda with more leeway, or rather makes him more comfortable to add what he wants, allowing him to put just a little bit of obvious romantic themes revolving LuNami.

Although it’s just a BIT of leeway, as Oda still kept the young boys in mind as he, of course, changed the movie from what it was originally supposed to be from something darker to something more light-hearted.

Here's where we get to the main point of this long wall of text: After three seconds. See, this could have easily, EASILY been animated into the movie, it’s as simple as having a 1 minute scene of everyone hearing the final part of the message, it could have easily been the post-credits scene, heck 1 minute is probably a lot more than what was necessary to show after three seconds animated. So why did it not happen in the movie? Probably because Nami was blushing.

Blushing is the most cliché and obvious way to tell if someone is into someone else (unless it’s physical like kissing). Oda, likely due to him keeping his young male audience in mind, relegated it to something even MORE obscure than a movie you don't necessarily have to watch, instead of through said movie, it’s through… these pin things? I honestly don’t even know what the heck it’s supposed to be. I know that One Piece Color Walk 6 featured it...

...but I don’t know the origin of this or how it was distributed before the color walk. Was it given to people in theaters? Was this purchasable merch? Did it come with the DVD/Blu-Ray as an extra? There's so little information online on where in the world this came from, and that just goes to show how oddly obscure it is, as if Oda did this on purpose just so that as little people would find about it. As if he thinks “Okay my intentions will be too obvious if this gets put in the movie itself, let me try something else”. It makes sense given how he's clearly shy about the whole romance thing as I explained earlier. Of course in the movie proper Sanji still mentions the whole love message thing but without Nami explicitly blushing at Luffy hearing it, naysayers can easily just interpret it as one of Sanji's self-serving delusions as always, as Nami doesn't show explicit emotions (blushing) giving away that it's really a love message.

Yes, everything I am saying about this isn't some guaranteed factual info or whatever, but this makes WAY too much sense. He had no reason to make this featuring Nami blushing but he did anyway, like it’s a way for him to draw what he wanted without being overly concerned with his demographic at large getting to see this, you know. And it worked! For example, a lot of the LuNami naysayers point out how the message wasn't romantic and they all say it without the knowledge of After three seconds. Oda did a good job with keeping this art on the down low because let's be honest, who outside of the shipping community or people analyzing shipping to insane degrees (me right now) even know about after three seconds? Exactly.

And by the way, you can’t even say that Nami is blushing out of embarassment for everyone hearing it. In that artwork where she blushed, she knows damn well at that point that the only person on the ship who didn't hear the last part is Luffy, so she’s clearly blushing because of how LUFFY SPECIFICALLY heard it, she blushes once she’s realized that he heard it, it’s that straightforward. And Oda wrote Nami saying "It's embarrassing!" in reference to the message.

Oda is the same man who is embarrassed to write very on the nose romance. Not saying "Oh dude this totally means Oda is projecting how he feels writing after three seconds/the ending of Strong World onto Nami by making her say it's embarrassing meaning he sees this as romantic because HE is embarrassed about romance!" ....Well okay I totally AM saying that buuut I am not saying that it's actually true. I just wanted to bring it up lol.

Another perfect example of relegating obvious romantic things to obscure content is a certain sketch. And it’s in the heroine novel, obviously aimed at girls instead of boys, and oh would you look at that:

Oda does a complete 180 and features Nami with Luffy’s hat on with a HEART IN HER HAND… seriously, how more obvious can this sketch get? It can't! And it doesn't need to be subtle this time! Oda knows that on average more girls are going to care about romance so why be subtle here? In the past he said specifically that he thinks girl readers keep asking him questions related to romance, as I clearly said before, and this here novel is targeted at girls as opposed to boys. There’s no reason for Luffy’s hat to be on her, especially because, well, he has nothing to do with Nami's novel, it's not like he plays a role in it. Nami post-timeskip is pretty much never seen wearing his hat before this sketch, making it very peculiar for him to draw her like this here on something aimed towards girls, the demographic he keeps mentioning "loves romance and keeps asking me to include it in One Piece". Seriously, the ONE TIME to bring it back in like, a decade, and it’s done like this? It feels ridiculous to call people crazy for thinking it has to mean something given all the context I have provided.

I mean, notice how in the main manga storyline, Nami hasn’t had his since SKYPIEA??? Hell, even then, she has only had it on her head once in the main manga in Arlong Park, yet Oda made Nami wear the hat in color spreads, which are treated as not important at all by a lot of readers. Color spreads by casual or young readers are usually looked at like “Huh cool artwork I guess, not going to extensively think about it though”, again giving Oda a liiitttle bit more leeway than his main manga story. Why else do you think that Luffy and Nami are CONSISTENTLY portrayed as King and Queen in color spreads and not the main manga storyline? Because from Oda's perspective it gives naysayers or the boys who in his mind supposedly hate romance leeway to say "Oh it's just a color spread! Just fun little aesthetic stuff!", in other words, nothing to take seriously. If he wrote it into his main manga story he would have to explain why Luffy and Nami would dress up as King and Queen too, again making things a loooot more explicit depending on the way he goes about it, and he's already insecure about it, so.... I'm just saying.

Also come on, there has to be a reason why Oda has portrayed Nami with Luffy’s hat plenty of times after Skypiea yet none of those times were in the story proper, just like the movies he's involved in being heavily focused on Nami herself or LuNami. He himself wrote Tesoro and Stella's romance, he himself said that ROMANCE WAS A GOOD IDEA FOR FILM: GOLD yet is much more adamant about romance being included in his manga storyline and it was HIS idea to parallel the romance for Tesoro/Stella that he wrote with Luffy/Nami. Almost as if he is less concerned with a certain audience for the movies and side material than he his for his manga... Nah, that's ridiculous!

Isn’t it just weird how a lot of the side content Oda makes/is involved in is more on the nose with shipping hints? To me it seems like his thought process is “Okay! I can finally do something I want to! I want to make a movie about Luffy saving Nami with a few romantic undertones thrown in there… I could’ve easily made an arc like this in the manga but, can’t let my main audience be disappointed, can I?” Arlong Park and Skypiea are the only times in the manga in which Nami gets to be saved by Luffy. (Funnily enough they’re both are the only times in the main story where Luffy gives Nami his hat.) Both arcs were so long ago. It just seems to me like he wrote Strong World and the romance aspect of Film: Gold to scratch his “Nami gets saved by Luffy” itch. Even with the Zou hug being a thing, it is not something that Oda puts emphasis on at all, it’s pretty zoomed out in the manga, as if he is avoiding any overly direct intimacy that the readers he’s catering to would catch on to. It’s all too suspicious to me.

All this isn't to say that Oda doesn't do any LuNami stuff in the main manga storyline, it just that he's not mega obvious with it at all and doesn't plan to include said mega obvious hints as long as his concern with his boy audience remains there. So it doesn't invalidate any LuNami hints that people think happened in the manga like Nami blushing over the CPR Reiju gave (naysayers could easily say she was just shocked unlike Strong World where it's blatantly her blushing over Luffy hearing what Sanji called a "love message") or things that are more subtle like Nami's "I don't want to marry yet" in Thriller Bark, I'm just saying that cliché hints of romance is what he would like to avoid, something cliché enough that his shounen audience would figure out.

As a side note, Oda's "People seem so supportive of couples!" is also interesting as before his Aoyama interview he always knew/thought that girls are always the ones ask him for romance and as such of course he would know the female demographic would care more about it, so this surprise about people seeming supportive of couples may or may not be him realizing that it's not just girls who are interested, but perhaps boys too. Of course we all know that Oda drew Luffy and Nami together for Aoyama, the author he just talked about romance with. Now again not saying "Oh man this HAS to be a LuNami hint!" because they talked about much more than just romance, but still, something to consider!

Oda's "Ah, seriously!?" is still funny to me when Aoyama said he won't leave if One Piece were to include romance, despite Aoyama writing romance in Detective Conan, interesting reaction from Oda given how Aoyama literally said "I like love comedies" just earlier. As if to convince himself that Aoyama is writing the romance in his story to pander to his female audience instead of doing it because he likes doing it. Anyway I think I am digressing.

I think my theory may hold some water, but hey if you disagree, that’s totally fine. I’m not the best at articulating myself so the way I talked about some things here may just be seen as completely wrong, but hey, that’s okay! If you have something to add, you can do so. I know there will be people disagreeing with me, including even some LuNami fans, but again, I don't mind at all.

My verdict is this: Oda likes the idea of LuNami but due to his concern with his target audience, he won’t make any obvious advances that young boys would pick up on and as a result, tries to sneak in more obvious hints into supplementary/more obscure content like Movies, After three seconds, a sketch, etc. because people take those less seriously/not at face value like stuff that happens inside the manga's story, so only puts more subtle or non-cliché hints in his manga and the less subtle ones in secondary material. (I mean seriously dude, wearing Luffy's hat with a heart in your hand? A romance parallel in a movie? Blushing at the "love message" being heard? Come on, that so much more on the nose than anything in the entire manga)

I guess you can say there are layers to how far Oda is willing to go to show LuNami more explicitly lol. The more of a low profile he think he has from his boy readers, the more explicit it'll be. That is seriously a trend I have been noticing from him.

Honestly, with all this being said and done, I think the only way he will feel totally at ease with including explicit LuNami romance is if he is convinced that his boy audience doesn't mind romance at all and wouldn't leave in salt, bitterness and passive aggression.

I think One Piece will continue to be written like this without on the nose romance. The best we can hope for is a sudden LuNami ending once the story is over, because 1. By then he stops writing One Piece and doesn't need to be walking on eggshells to please his audience and 2. Romance not being written doesn't necessarily mean characters won't end up together as BF/GF, husband/wife. Portraying romance is simply showing us the way that lead to the BF/GF husband/wife relationship in the first place.

Keep in mind that the whole interpretation I have about Oda's portrayal romance and LuNami could be entirely wrong!

To talk about the "Boys don't like romance" thing, I'm a man, and look, I wrote all of this stupid shit. To me it's funny that he still is under the wrong impression that all, or at least most, boys don't like romance. I am not a shipper of everything in fiction myself, LuNami is one of the few ships I even care about. If your audience grows attached enough to a series they would get attached to the characters too, this attachment can lead to a desire of wanting to see these characters be more, that is how I started to love LuNami. I think a decent amount of male One Piece fans feel the same way, for guys like me liking a ship usually takes a slow burn, whereas, usually from what I observe, women ship things much quicker than guys. I also feel less willing at expressing my love for a ship, a big part of it being that many guys just "support" a ship instead of going balls to the wall insane for a ship with a million essays about how great the ship is, on top of that they almost always support the ships I think are lame where it's stupid one-sided love for 95% of the story (For example, men in the English-speaking community support LuHan so much more than LuNami on average it's not even funny) For a long time, many years, I was sitting in the back, keeping my interest in LuNami to myself. And what better way to "come out the shipping closet" I guess you can say, than to make... whatever the hell I wrote here? I don't know man at this point I'm so drained I'm starting to doubt that anything I even said here made any sense, I just flung all the things stored in brain at this post so it may be all over the place but whatever!

Hope you loved reading this regardless! See ya!

#lunami #luffy x nami #ルナミ #nami x luffy

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shockercoco · 7 months ago

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Modern Loneliness

Major John Egan x reader

Warnings - little bit of angst, but mostly fluff

Word count - 2159

a/n - this was literally supposed to be posted over a month ago for the ending of MOTA, but I kept writing for Austin lol. Might as well get it out the drafts now. I also basically had to rewrite the whole thing bc wtf was I thinking a month ago. I hope you enjoy :)

The war is finally over, allowing all the soldiers to go home, including the two best friends Buck and Bucky. The only thing holding Bucky back from being completely content about leaving is the fact that he doesn’t have that special someone to go back to.

Buck has Marge, and of course he’s happy for him, but Bucky just wishes had found a girl before he got sent off, someone who would know how he was before the war. Buck would always tell him not to worry and that he would find someone soon, but each time it doesn’t give him any reassurance.

You have been best friends with Marge since college, so when she told you her fiance was coming home you had nothing but joy for her. You had been a huge supporter of their relationship since the beginning, and while Buck was away you were always at her house comforting her for when she cried or just needed a friend. During his absence, Buck would write to you to check in on Marge because you and him both knew Marge would never tell him how she was really doing.

Currently, you are walking out of her front door to go back home when you see a taxi pull up in the driveway. You didn’t think anything of it until you saw Buck exiting the vehicle with his bags in hand. You shout for Marge to come outside, and it doesn’t take long for her to sprint into Buck’s arms after seeing him in the driveway. With a smile, you watched as he held onto her tightly and so lovingly, knowing this is exactly what Marge needed after a bad week.

Deep down, though, you were wishing you had someone coming home to you, someone whose arms you could run into and kiss you like his life depended on it. When it came to the dating scene you never had much luck, so after a while you just accepted the defeat and gave up, deciding it was better to put your energy towards your career.

During your girl talks, Marge would always tell you that you would find someone soon, and how perfect of a person you were, but year after year of not finding a relationship was making it hard to believe her.

A couple days after Buck’s return, Marge invited you over because she was hosting a barbeque for Buck and some of his friends. You tried your best to get out of it, but she wouldn’t take no for an answer. She also mentioned that Bucky – Buck’s friend from the military who you’ve only heard while reading letters – would be there and that it would be an opportunity for you.

You didn’t find it unusual that she was trying to set you up with someone because this is what she always does, but you just weren’t in the mood to have small talk with a guy who probably wouldn’t find you attractive.

When Buck had invited Bucky – because when are they not together – he turned down the offer, and just like Marge, Buck wasn’t going to take no for an answer.

So, now here you were in Marge’s backyard surrounded by men and their partners. The only people you knew were the hosts, so you sat on the steps of the back porch with Marge beside you. Marge also didn’t know many of the guests given the fact everyone was Buck’s friend from the military, so she kept you company as she watched Buck man the grill with a few other guys beside him.

Bucky was among them, standing right next to his best friend and sipping on a beer as he talked. Every now and again, he would run a hand through his hair to push some of his loose curls, and you couldn’t deny the fact that he was attractive as you found yourself admiring him from a distance.

“Are you going to say something to him?” Marge asked you as she swished around the lemonade in her glass. She had been watching you this whole time as you practically drooled in the direction of the grill.

“Of course not,” you say as you turn your attention back to her, not before glancing around to see if anyone else had caught you staring.

Thankfully some of the women had formed a little group and were laughing and gossiping amongst themselves, so there was little chance anyone had noticed you.

“And why not?” asked Marge with furrowed brows. “He’s a nice guy, I promise.”

“I’m sure he is, but it’s not like I know what to say. Plus look at him, he’s way out of my league,” you reply as you take a sip of lemonade from your own glass.

“No he’s not, he’s just like any other guy,” she scoffs followed by a laugh.

“And just like with any other guy, I have nothing to talk about. What do we even have in common? He also just got back from a war camp in Europe, what if I say something that triggers him?

“You’re overthinking. Just start off with a simple hello, and then go from there. He’s a huge flirt so knowing him he’ll do most of the talking,” she smiles.

She was always so optimistic about these kinds of things, but you would be too if you were getting married to a guy who basically worships you.

You quickly finish the last of your lemonade before standing up. “I’m going to get a refill,” you mumble as you walk up the steps and into the house. You needed an excuse to get away from the conversation, and to get out of the heat. The sundress you were wearing was cute and gave you airflow, but it also exposed your arms and legs to harsh sun.

You head into the kitchen and open the fridge to take out the pitcher of lemonade Marge had made earlier in the day. After refilling your glass, you thought it was best to linger in the kitchen for a bit longer and decided to grab a plate of fruit out of the fridge to keep you busy.

Just as you jump up on the kitchen counter to get comfortable, you hear the back door opening. Next thing you know, you see Bucky walking into the kitchen, letting out a sigh that seems to be of exhaustion. He flashes you a smile when he notices you, before proceeding to grab another beer out of the fridge.

“You’re Marge’s friend right?” he asks as he shuts the door and turns to face you.

“Yep,” is all you say before sticking a grape in your mouth.

“I’m John, but everyone calls me Bucky,” he says. He makes direct eye contact as sticks a hand out for you to shake, which you do, before popping the cap off his beer.

“So I’ve heard. I’ve seen your picture in Marge’s letters,” you respond as you focus your attention on the plate in your hands and begin moving some fruit around.

“Oh, yeah? Did I atleast look good in those pictures? Buck never lets me read his letters,” He smirks as he leans against the counter opposite from you.

You almost choke on the piece of fruit you had just placed in your mouth from his statement. You feel your face and ears turning warm so you turn your head and look out the kitchen window to avoid his gaze.

You stop yourself from smiling and cover it by clearing your throat. “Well you were in a uniform and in black and white, so I couldn’t really tell.”

“Understandable, black and white photos can be misleading,” he jokes, taking a swig from his bear. There’s a short silence that follows that isn’t completely awkward, but not exactly comfortable to you either. You hope he doesn’t notice.

The silence is interrupted by the back door opening and Marge sticking her head inside. She grins as her eyes flicker between you and Bucky before stopping on you to say, “Are you coming back out or what?”

“In a second, I’m just going to cool off in here for a bit,” you tell her. She gives you a nod before closing the door.

“Not a fan of big gatherings, I take it,” Bucky says once Marge is gone.

“What makes you say that?” you steal a glance at him before looking back out the window.

You smile as you watch Marge join Buck at the grill, making him turn his head to give her a quick kiss.

“I can tell you’re avoiding going back outside, and I don’t blame you. I’m doing the same thing myself,” he answers.

“What are you avoiding?” you finally turn your head to face him.

“Nothing specific really, I’m just not in the mood for conversating and answering people’s questions right now. That doesn’t include you though,” he looks over at you with a small smile. ” I used to love being around people and having fun, but now all I want to do is leave.”

You watch as Bucky stares at the wall, going distant. His mood seems to have shifted from the one he had when he first stepped foot in the kitchen. “Everything okay?”

Your voice interrupts his thoughts and brings him back to the present. “Yeah, I’m fine…I’m just…I can tell I’m a different person ever since I got back, and I’m not sure I like this version of me.” He sets his beer on the counter and folds his arms, no longer in the mood to drink it.

“I don’t think anyone expects you to be the same.”

“Well yeah, it’s just the fact that everyone I meet from now on will only know this version of me. They won’t know how different I was before the war, and they won’t understand what I’ve been through. Like Buck has Marge to talk to, and she understands because of the letters he would send her. I don’t have that,” Bucky says before adding, “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to dump this all on you.”

You just give him a smile. Even though you will never understand completely what Bucky went through, you do have some grasp on what he’s feeling. To you it’s obvious that he puts on a mask when he’s around people, and won’t let his feelings show unless he’s alone – harboring his emotions.

“I know how close you are with Buck, have you ever told him about how you felt? It always helps to talk to someone.” you tell him.

He shakes his head, “No, I don’t want to bother him. He has his own problems.”

“I’m sure he wouldn’t mind,” you tell him, but he just shakes his head again. “Well...I know we’ve just met, but you could talk to me. I mean, you just opened up to me in a kitchen within ten minutes of meeting me. I’m obviously a great listener Only if you want to, though,” you end with a hopeful smile.

Bucky finally looks away from the wall to look you in the eye with his eyebrows raised. “Really?” he asks and you nod. “That would be nice.”

And that’s where the bond between the two of you started, and it only continued to grow stronger. You would meet up with him for drinks, lunch, or just for a walk through the park. Bucky would tell you everything, from him joining the military and meeting Buck to what he has experienced throughout the past few years. You could tell that he would get emotional when he brought up certain topics, but he never cried around you, even though you always encouraged him to let his feelings out.

One day when he invited you to dinner, you brought it up to Marge. She quickly got excited and said it was a date, but you just brushed it off and told her it was just another casual meeting. Nonetheless, you still decided to put effort into your appearance – more than you normally do – and once the dinner was over, you realized she was right.

Bucky ended up confessing to you how his feelings for you have grown over the past few weeks. At first you were shocked, but when you realized he was being serious, you admitted that you felt the same way.

You didn’t care that Bucky thought he was a ruined person with a lot of baggage, everyone has their hardships, after all. Bucky loved how you enjoyed being with him after everything he had told you, and how you accepted him for who he is now.

When you eventually told Marge that you and Bucky were official, she wasn’t surprised at all and brought up how she always said you would find someone. When Bucky had told his best friend, Buck was happy for him and gave Bucky his fair share of I told you so’s.

#callum turner x reader #callum turner #callum turner imagine #major john egan x reader #major john egan #mota #mota fanfic #mastersoftheair #austin butler x reader #major gale cleven #austin butler

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helloalycia · 11 months ago

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𝐈 𝐕𝐎𝐋𝐔𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐄𝐑 [𝐎𝐍𝐄] // 𝐋𝐔𝐂𝐘 𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐘 𝐁𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐃

summary: Lucy Gray has always been there for you, the only person you care for as much as you do. So much, in fact, that when you discover Mayfair's plan to have her reaped in the Hunger Games, you know you have to stop it. Even if it means giving up your own life.

warning/s: the usual warnings that come with the Hunger Games.

author's note: okay so someone requested another lucy gray imagine where reader volunteers for her, so that’s what i did but kinda did it a little bit different as the usual volunteering storyline feels very been there done that lol. Hope you all like it anyway! there’s a second part too :)

two / masterlist / wattpad

It had been a long a day, my feet hurting from being stood up for so long and my exhaustion from working a long shift worsening by the second. But as soon as the clock hit 5pm, all my energy returned and I was quick to leave my apron behind as I left. Working at a crockery stall in the markets wasn't a terrible job, and it paid decently, but some days dragged longer than others and I only wished for it to end.

Thankfully, tonight was also a night that the Covey performed at the Hob, so I made my way over there, specifically behind it where the musical group got ready before performances in an abandoned garage they claimed as theirs. I always met before their shows, wanting to wish them luck and also because Lucy Gray, my best friend, would never let me hear the end of it if I didn't stop by beforehand.

"There you are!" Maude Ivory, the youngest of the group, called me over once I stepped in the open door. "You took forever!"

"I'm like two minutes late, Maude Ivory," I defended myself, and a smile fell on my lips when I saw her pouting. "Sorry."

"Can you braid my hair like last time?" she asked politely, already turning around and readying herself for me.

"I sure can," I agreed, smiling at the others as they got ready before moving to braid Maude Ivory's hair.

It didn't take long, just a simple braid around the crown of her head, complementing the rest of her hair that was left out in a way that made her look like a princess. Adorable.

"Oh, I love it!" she gushed, immediately looking in the mirror to appreciate it, and I watched her with a smile. "Thank you, Y/N!"

"No problem," I said dismissively.

"Wow, you look beautiful, Maude Ivory," Lucy Gray appeared beside me, smiling down at the younger girl, and then she gave me a playful look. "Favouritism much?"

I couldn't help but laugh. "All you had to do was ask."

She immediately took a seat on the chair Maude Ivory was moments ago. When I didn't move, she glanced over her shoulder at me with a knowing nod. "Well, go on then."

I rolled my eyes lightheartedly before moving to braid her hair next, squeezing her shoulder slightly in retaliation, and I knew she was smiling all the same. As I'd done many times before, I combed out Lucy Gray's curly hair with my fingers, unknotting it the best I could, before separating it into two parts and giving her two over-the-shoulder braids.

"You done?" she asked impatiently, definitely trying to annoy me.

I finished tying off the second braid before rounding the chair to take a look. Her brown eyes looked up at me adorably, and even though she did nothing special, my heart fluttered in my chest at the attention.

Okay, so maybe I liked her a little more than friends, but I couldn't help it. She was the only person I had in my life that meant something to me, the only one who truly cared. After becoming friends many years ago because we happened to play in the park together as kids, she was stuck with me, and I suppose my gratitude for having her in my life turned into adoration somewhere along the way.

The only real family I had was my father, but he had been bitter towards me since my mum died only a few years after I was born. He hated me without saying it, and I sought love in friendship with Lucy Gray. Though, it was so much more than that on my end. But she could never know, for I'd rather have her in my life like this than not at all. And I would never risk jeopardising that, ever.

"Don't move," I warned her, before leaving the garage for a moment to pick a flower I'd seen just outside.

When I returned, I was surprised to see her sat how I'd left her, though pouting. I carefully slid the flower at the top of her braid, near her ear, and stepped back to admire my work.

"You're done, Little Miss Impatient," I finally said with a stifled smile.

She gave me a disapproving look before moving to the mirror to check it out. Her facade faltered as a warm smile tugged at her lips and she admired the view.

"Okay, I'll let you off since this is pretty nice," she said jokingly.

"Wow, only nice? I thought it was much more than that," I played along.

Her smile widened as she approached me, before kissing me on the cheek and hugging me briefly. I was expecting neither, my brain short circuiting as quickly as she pulled away.

"It's beautiful, Y/N, thank you," she said truthfully, losing her humour. When I didn't know what to say, too busy trying not to think about her lips against my cheek, she said, "You're stayin', right?"

I blinked, dazed. "Huh?"

She began to chuckle, and then her question truly sank in and I cleared my throat, nodding.

"I– yes, I am," I said, giving her a small smile. "Where else would I be?"

She rolled her eyes playfully before turning to the others. "Right, guys, are we ready to blow everyone's socks off?!"

As always, I enjoyed my evening at the Hob, cheering the Covey on and staying for all their performances as promised. It was always so lovely in there, except for the occasional fight that would break out between the miners and Peacekeepers, but none of that happened tonight. I was tired by the end of it all, as were the others, but as we all walked out together, Lucy Gray tugged my hand back.

"Hm?" I said, yawning as I looked to her.

"Are you in a rush to get home?" she asked, a mischievous glint in her eyes.

"No, why?" I asked curiously.

Excited, she said, "Come to the lake with me."

I quirked a brow. "Now?"

Expression softening, she nodded. "Yeah, it'll be nice. It's a clear night too."

Another yawn escaped my lips and I covered my mouth before shaking my head. "I dunno, I'm a little tired and it's getting late."

"C'mon," she insisted, before grabbing my hand and forcing me to follow her, but not before looking to the others and adding, "I'll see you guys later!"

"Don't make too much noise when you're back!" Barb Azure, the eldest of their group, warned her.

"I won't," Lucy Gray mumbled, and then we were off and I just about managed to wish everyone a goodnight behind me before we were too far from them.

"How aren't you tired?" I asked as I fell into step with her, accepting my defeat and knowing I couldn't really decline her offer anyway. "You've been onstage all night."

She shrugged. "I'm a little tired, but I wanted to spend more time with you. You've been workin' loads lately."

I sighed, feeling a little bad. "Sorry, it's the house. Payments are falling behind and my dad is getting on my back and–"

"Hey, I'm not complainin'," she stopped me. "I just miss you."

A small smile crept on my lips at her unwavering honesty – that was one thing I'd always envied about her. She could say how she was feeling without overthinking how it could be perceived, whereas I was the complete opposite.

"I'm right here," I assured her, and then she glanced at me with a smile that warmed my heart.

"How is he?" she asked. "He still standoffish with you?"

"Isn't he always?" I said, a little bitterly, before shaking my head. "Never mind him anyway. Doesn't matter."

Probably sensing my mood, she said, "You're right, it doesn't. You have me."

I was glad it was dark out, otherwise she would've seen the pink dusting my cheeks.

We continued our walk to the lake, talking and trying to stay awake long enough to make it there. It was a long walk on a regular day, but tonight it felt even longer because of the constant stepping around and trying to find our way in the dim light of the moon peeking through the trees. Still, it was comforting to be around Lucy Gray instead of back home where my dad would no doubt be on my case, so I savoured the time together.

By the time we reached the lake – in particular, a spot where a cabin sat, with a dock and boat beside it – Lucy Gray and I were wide awake, any hint of exhaustion for the evening dispersing with our trek. We both took a seat at the edge of the dock, feet dangling over the side, and she nudged my arm gently.

"Look how pretty the water looks," she said with amazement, and I hummed in agreement.

It was beautiful out tonight, the lull of the water lapping over itself and shimmering in the moonlight providing the perfect view for a perfect evening. Being out here always put me at ease, but being out here with Lucy Gray was indescribable.

After a moment of quiet, she nudged me again and I took the hint, following her lead as we both lay on our backs to look up at the night sky. If the view before was great, then this was amazing. Stars filled the sky, dazzling and bright and filling me with a sense of awe. It was different than seeing the stars from my house – this was all open, isolated, peaceful. I loved it.

"How many have times have you been here at night?" I asked Lucy Gray curiously.

"Not a lot," she assured, "but enough to know that it'a perfect for stargazin', and you love that, so I wanted to show you."

I chuckled a little. "I do. Thanks."

Another quiet enveloped us, only the sound of the water, the trees rustling gently and some birds in the distance to be heard. I could have stayed like this forever. It certainly would have been an upgrade from my usual life.

"Did you see Billy Taupe earlier?" Lucy Gray asked suddenly.

Billy Taupe was her ex-boyfriend and an ex-member of the Covey, but we'd all be ignoring him for a few weeks now after we'd discovered he'd cheated on Lucy Gray with the mayor's daughter. As a result, him and said daughter, Mayfair Lipp, weren't fond of us, especially Mayfair, who seemed to hold a personal vendetta against Lucy Gray.

I nodded, glancing at her, but she was still looking at the sky. "Yeah. I avoided him, but him and Mayfair were glaring at me for sure."

She exhaled quietly, troubled.

"Did he say something?" I asked, attention fully on her now.

"He confronted me between one of my performances," she admitted, piquing both my interest and concern. "Started talkin' about how I needed to stop badmouthin' him to the rest of the Covey."

I furrowed my brows. "You haven't though. If anything, you barely mention him."

"Well, he doesn't seem to think that," she said with an eye roll.

I frowned, hating to see her upset at the likes of him yet again. "If he keeps bothering you, tell me. I'll have a word with him."

As if I'd said something hilarious, she began to smile and then laughter spilled from her lips. "You're cute, and I appreciate it, but you shouldn't get involved. Him and Mayfair are capable of a lot."

"Lucy Gray–" I started, ready to retort, but she cut me off with a serious stare, her smile fading.

"Promise me, Y/N," she said sternly, dark eyes boring into mine.

I gave in instantly, embarrassingly enough. "I promise."

Visibly relieved, she relaxed and nodded slightly before sitting up and stretching her arms. I watched for a moment, though thoughts of Billy Taupe and his foulness stuck in my mind. Why couldn't he just leave her alone? Same with Mayfair? Didn't they have anything better to do?

"Say, you ever been for an evenin' swim under the stars?"

I blinked, barely paying attention. "What?"

She glanced down at me with a smirk, before standing up and beginning to step out of her dress. Realising what she was doing, I sat up and started to protest.

"Lucy Gray, it's gonna be cold and dark and–"

But she beat me to it, her dress pooling by my feet as she dove in from the edge of the dock. I wiped my face with mild annoyance as she splashed me, watching as she resurfaced with a laugh.

"C'mon, you gon' leave me hangin'?!" she exclaimed.

I narrowed my eyes at her with distaste, but as always, I couldn't say no to her. So, grumbling to myself petulantly, I stepped out of my own clothes and dove right into the water next to her. It was cold, as suspected, but as I resurfaced, my body was already getting used to the temperature. It was still the middle of summer, so it was actually quite refreshing in the evening heat, though my complaints of it being dark were still valid.

"Not bad, right?" Lucy Gray asked me with a grin.

I pushed my hair from my eyes and gave her a reluctant glance. "I suppose not."

Her grin only widened, and then she looked up, eyes reflecting the moonlight and shimmering like the water. "Look."

I looked up too, amazed by the sight of the sky yet again, but before I could say anything, Lucy Gray splashed my face with water, making me shriek with surprise.

"Lucy Gray!" I scolded, wiping my eyes as she laughed. "You did that on purpose!"

Her laughter only increased, and then I was attempting to splash her back, but she was swimming backwards and then I was swimming after her, her laughter filling the silence of the woods and brightening up the place more than the moon ever could. I eventually grabbed her and splashed her face enough for her to spit it out and cease her laughter.

"Okay, okay, you win!" she gave in, wiping her eyes before playfully glaring at me.

It was my turn to laugh and she rolled her eyes lightheartedly before swimming around me yet again.

We stayed there for a little longer, splashing about and talking about everything and nothing. It was easy to forget everything waiting for me back home, or my job that I didn't want to go to, or the reality of our lives. No, all I had to focus on right now was Lucy Gray's voice, her company, her.

But it was seriously getting late, no doubt past midnight now, and all good things couldn't last forever. We were floating on our backs, staring at the sky in a comfortable silence, and I hated that I had to interrupt it.

"We should go back," I said reluctantly, stopping floating. "If my dad realises–"

"Right, yeah," she agreed apologetically. "Come on."

We both climbed out the lake in a peaceful silence, tugging on our clothes and shoes and squeezing the water from our hair the best we could. As I was doing just that, I felt her eyes on me and looked up with a confused smile.

"What?" I asked, feeling the last of the water drip down my wrists as I let go of my hair.

She began to smile unabashedly. "I'm glad I have you. Thanks for coming tonight. For being here."

My face was heating up, but I played it off with a playful eye roll. "Weirdo."

She chuckled quietly, shaking her head, before leading the way back to the Seam.

It had been a long day at work and the last thing I wanted was to come home to my father being grumpy, and yet that was what I'd gotten a few days later.

As soon as I walked in, I saw him home too, looking around the kitchen with a clenched jaw. He must have just got back from the mines, judging from the coal dust covering his clothes and skin.

"Hey, dad," I greeted politely, though already feeling tense because he didn't seem to be in a good mood.

"The hell is all this?" he asked me, ignoring my greeting and instead motioning to the dishes on the table.

"What do you mean?" I asked with confusion, leaving my bag by the door.

"It's a mess in here," he said with irritation. "Did you not clean up?"

"Dad, I've been at work all day," I reminded him, sensing he'd had a bad day at work, because he wasn't usually this hostile. "When would I have cleaned up?"

He raised his eyebrows, as if I'd said something absurd. "Excuse me?"

I swallowed hard, not liking the way he sneered at me. "I–," I started, but stopped because I didn't know what to say. Technically, they were his dishes. His mess.

"Y'know, I work really hard to keep us alive," he said with a glare. "And the least you could do is keep the place tidy. You do fuck all anyway!"

I clenched my jaw, frowning and trying my best to contain my annoyance. "I know you do. But these were your dishes. From breakfast. I didn't even eat, I just left."

"Oh, so it's my fault?! That what you're saying?!"

"You're not listening!" I couldn't help but shout, getting sick and tired of his behaviour. "Look, you might have had a bad day at work, but you can't just take it out on me!"

"You don't know what I get up to at work!" he shouted right back. "It's not like yours, standing there, looking pretty! It's hard labour! Something you could never understand!" Then he motioned around and added, "Clearly! This place is a tip!"

I clenched my fists behind my back, but my anger was building up. "It's a tip because of you, dad! You leave it a mess! Then you come back and you blame it on me!"

"Don't you dare raise your voice at me!" he yelled. "Have some respect!"

"Then actually try and listen to what I'm–!"

I couldn't even finish because he suddenly slapped me across the face, a sharp, blinding slap that knocked me off my feet for a second, leaving me stumbling into the kitchen table. I blinked, tears pooling in my eyes.

"Clean this place up," he snapped, before turning around to go to his room, slamming the door behind him.

I breathed out slowly, eyes burning now, and tried to ignore the pins and needles on my cheek. It wasn't the first time he'd hit me, and I should have been used to it, but it still took me by surprise sometimes. I hated it. I hated him. I would have done anything to leave, but I had nowhere to go.

Needing to get out of there as I calmed down, I left through the front door, waiting by the side of the house. I took in some fresh air and wiped furiously at my tears. He was the worst father a child could ask for, but he was the only one I had.

My face was hot and I was glad I couldn't see my reflection, knowing it would just be red on one side. As I finished wiping the last of my tears, I heard footsteps from behind me and sucked up a breath before turning around, worried it might be my father, back for round two. Thankfully it wasn't, but it was Lucy Gray.

She was smiling at first, then her eyes took in my expression and it faded instantly.

"What happened?" she asked straight away, stopping before me.

"Nothing," I assured her, though my cheek was still flaming, and she wasn't stupid.

She looked back at my house, and then back to me with a frown. "He was upset again, wasn't he?"

I looked to my shoes shamefully, not needing to answer. She knew what he was like, but it was something I hated to put on her. Nonetheless, she understood, and she touched my cheek gently, making me wince.

"You should stay with us," she muttered, trying to find my eyes, but I wouldn't look up. "We'll always have room for you, Y/N."

"I can't," I said with embarrassment. "And he's not always like this. It's– I'm handling it."

"No, you're not," she said, letting go of my cheek.

I didn't want to argue, nor did I want her pity, so I cleared my throat and looked up with the intention to change the subject. "What did you come here for anyway?"

She wasn't happy as she gave me a worried look. "Y/N–"

"Lucy Gray," I pleaded, before she could say anything more.

Giving in, she exhaled quietly. "I wanted to see if you wanted to go on a picnic with us tomorrow. You're not workin', right?"

At the sound of something much nicer, I relaxed and nodded. "I'd like that."

She seemed to relax too. "Good." Then she glanced over her shoulder at the house again, before adding, "You're stayin' with us tonight."

"I'm not–"

"You are," she insisted stubbornly. "You still have a few things left from last time."

I sighed tiredly. "I have to clean up. He's gonna be mad."

"We'll clean up together, then you're comin'," she reasoned.

"I'll do it myself," I told her, shaking my head. "You know he doesn't like me hanging around with you."

She looked ready to protest, but I shot her a pleading look. The last thing I wanted was to set him off again, especially in front of Lucy Gray. Thankfully, she seemed to get this and nodded reluctantly.

"Fine, but hurry up," she gave in, taking my hand and squeezing it reassuringly. "I don't like you in there alone."

"I'll be quick," I promised, before leaving her to clean up.

My dad was still sulking in his room, so I was able to clean up quickly and let him know where I was going. He didn't answer, nor did he stop me, so I left and met Lucy Gray back outside. She took my hand without question, not letting go until we reached her place. I was glad not to be alone tonight.

A week later, it was another fun evening at the Hob where I watched my best friend perform and I didn't have to worry about work or my dad or anything. It was just like any other evening there, nothing out of the ordinary, or so I thought.

During one of Maude Ivory's talented solos, I got up to the go to the toilet, making it a quick one so I wouldn't miss a thing. But as I left the women's toilets, I caught sight of Billy Taupe and Mayfair chatting around the corner in hushed voices. I didn't care at first, trying to ignore they existed for Lucy Gray's sake, but then they mentioned the singer herself and I couldn't help but eavesdrop a little.

"...doesn't know when to keep her trap shut and herself to herself," Mayfair was saying bitterly.

"She's a singer," Billy Taupe reminded her. "That's what she does. Just ignore it."

Mayfair scoffed. "She thinks she has everyone in this town wrapped around her finger because, what, she can sing? And put on a little show? Well, you know what, we'll see how she sings her way out of the reaping!"

I froze from behind the wall, wondering what she meant by that.

"What?" Billy Taupe asked, just as confused but suspicious as I.

"She may have the looks, honey, but I have the connections," Mayfair continued, her hushed voice growing increasingly more annoyed as she spoke. "You just wait until reaping day. Lucy Gray won't be bothering anyone for much longer."

My eyes widened at her threat. What the hell was she talking about?

"What are you–" Billy Taupe started, but the sound of the floorboards creaking beneath my weight made him stop, and I cursed inwardly.

Before they could even consider investigating, I slipped away between the doors unnoticed, back into the main room where everybody was distracted by the singing, dancing and drinking. My head was reeling though, trying to piece together what I'd just heard.

There was no way Mayfair would do what she was implying, right? She wouldn't just sabotage the reaping because of a feud, surely? Would she? If she did, then that would mean Lucy Gray would be chosen as tribute and–

Oh, God. If she was chosen, she'd be shipped off to partake in the Hunger Games and that was it. She wasn't a fighter, she was a performer. And the Games was no place for someone like her. I'd never see her again. And her family– oh, no. No, this couldn't happen!

What could I do to stop this? Mayfair would never listen to reason, especially not from me. It wasn't fair, any of it.

Suddenly, I felt nauseous at the thought of everything playing out just as Mayfair wanted. Needing some fresh air, feeling overly stuffy in the Hob, I pushed past everyone and stepped outside, ignoring those who were enjoying a cigarette or drink and trying not to throw up.

I couldn't lose Lucy Gray like this, not because of some stupid feud. How badly could Mayfair hate her to do this? The Covey would be broken without her. She was too valuable to everyone. And she was all I had.

"Y/N?"

I turned around, seeing Lucy Gray approaching me with a concerned smile on her lips.

"What happened?" she asked, stopping before me.

I blinked, my thoughts still racing around. "What?"

"You left lookin' upset," she said worriedly. "What happened?"

I swallowed the lump in my throat, shaking my head. "Nothing. I just feel sick. Might've eaten something funny."

Her smile faded, replaced by a concerned frown. "Oh, gosh, do you wanna go home? Go to ours? I can walk you back. The others won't mind if I leave a little early."

She was watching me carefully, patiently, dark eyes flittering around my face as if she'd find the problem just like that. She was too kind for her own good and I couldn't help but think about how unfair this all was. She wasn't a bad person at all. How could Mayfair do this? Why couldn't I do anything about it? There had to be something!

"Y/N?" Lucy Gray said, before pressing the back of her hand to my forehead with concentration. "Hmm, you do feel a little warm."

It wasn't fair.

Without thinking, I hugged her tightly, promising myself there and then that I would fix this. She wasn't going to be subjected to Mayfair's wrath, not if I could help it.

"Woah, what's gotten into you?" she said with surprise, but returned the hug.

"Sorry," I mumbled, before pulling back and clearing my throat. "I just need some water. I'll be fine."

She quirked a brow. "You're sure?"

I nodded, trying my hardest not to worry her anymore.

"Okay... good," she said with relief, before a smile curled on her lips. "I've got a new song I want you to hear."

I returned her smile, letting her tug my hand and lead me back inside, but the truth of what I knew was already starting to suffocate me.

For days I mulled it over, trying to convince myself that maybe I misheard or misinterpreted Mayfair's words. Or that, maybe, Mayfair didn't have as much power as she was letting on.

But deep down, I knew it was true, and she was just petty enough to send Lucy Gray to her death. Which then brought me to my next problem: what could I do to stop it?

Mayfair was the mayor's daughter and the mayor was the one who chose the names for the reaping. It was pretty solid, with no interference from me able to stop it. But what was I to do? Do I tell Lucy Gray? Her family? At least, if I did, it would give them time to prepare. But how exactly? Would it not be easier to just let it play out as to not ruin their last moments together?

I didn't know, and it was so much information to carry, eating away at me little by little. What I did know was that I couldn't lose Lucy Gray. What would my life even look like if she was gone? What would the Covey do without her?

Lucy Gray was loved, needed, wanted. She couldn't die, not when she'd be so dearly missed and had so much left to give. If only I could take her place... I knew I would if I could. Nobody needed me or cared for me, nobody but her. But she'd get over my death. And my dad couldn't care less. If it meant saving Lucy Gray, I would do it. After all, I loved her.

But I couldn't, because it was her name to be picked, not mine. And with her name, she'd walk onstage and I'd never see her again. How could I change that?

#lucy gray baird #lucy gray x reader #lucy gray baird x reader #lucy gray baird imagine #rachel zegler #the hunger games imagine #the hunger games #the ballad of songbirds and snakes imagine #the ballad of songbirds and snakes

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cactus-cuddler · 5 months ago

Text

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ 𝑺𝒑𝒚 𝒔𝒆𝒅𝒖𝒄𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏 // second part

Natasha Romanoff

x female reader

Here you can find the first part!

Word count: 3,2k

Plot: you and Natasha are two spies who have worked together for many years. During these years, a particular chemistry has arisen between you that will make something emerge that you couldn't have foreseen

Genre: Romantic Erotica

Warnings: this story contains descriptions of sexual activity

Author's note: I remind you that English is not my first language so sorry for any errors you may find in the text!

“We have a new mission,” Natasha announces, her eyes on you. You still feel out of breath, a sense of dissatisfaction lingering inside you. She finds you absolutely adorable, especially because it's all thanks to her that you're now in this state.

With every mission, you always risk your life to save innocents, and lately, you've been wondering if it's worth continuing. Every time you return home after days of fighting and killing, you ask yourself, "Am I doing the right thing?" You think about it with every new mission but always end up starting again without reaching a conclusion.

“Should we go to the boss now?" you ask her. Before each mission, your boss sends someone to the home of one of the spies with a code phrase to announce a new task. The phrase is, "Do you have some salt for my zucchini soup?"

“Yes,” she answers and opens her closet to take out some more suitable clothes for the occasion. She undresses in front of you, showing herself to you again. You stare at her as she shamelessly changes, watching how her buttocks move as she pulls on some black panties. She turns to you and smiles.

"Feel like picking my lingerie today?” she provokes you. You unexpectedly say yes and walk over to her closet, looking at the intimates she possesses. You choose a transparent lace thong and a bra that are also transparent enough to show her nipples. You didn't think Natasha owned underwear like that; you saw her as one for sports bras and comfortable panties.

“Would you like to help me slip into these?" she asks, and you feel a tingling between your thighs. You accept the challenge without hesitation. You carefully remove the panties she had previously worn and help her put on the ones you chose, making sure the fabric between her buttocks doesn't bother her. Then you put on her bra, which covers her breasts perfectly, giving her a good cleavage.

“Let me help you too," she whispers and retrieves your underwear and clothes from the kitchen. After putting on your underwear, she gives you a playful spank, making you jump and a surprised scream escapes your lips.

“You were lucky they interrupted us; otherwise, you wouldn't even be able to stand up," she whispers two centimeters from your lips, placing a chaste and delicate kiss there, different from the ones you exchanged less than ten minutes ago.

To get to your boss' office, each spy's room has a button behind a painting that opens a slide to take you directly to the front of his office. It's on an underground level, illuminated mainly by artificial light since the sun's rays cannot reach it. His secretary welcomes you warmly, looking Natasha up and down. She notices this, winks at her, causing the woman to blush. You think it's the Natasha effect that has power over you too. The woman is tall, with long slender legs wrapped in a long skirt, perfect, well-groomed black hair that reaches her mid-back, and a pretty but sensual face. If Natasha has a prototype girl, it's definitely that, and you feel helpless in front of her beauty, with jealousy hitting you like an arrow. The woman opens the door for you and then closes it again, positioning herself in front of it while you and your colleague sit in front of your boss.

The walls are white and immaculate, looking freshly painted. It is furnished in an ancient Greek style, giving it an epochal but elegant atmosphere.

“This is a dangerous mission," he warns you. The man in front of you is tall and powerful, with a handsome and well-groomed face without the shadow of a beard. He has penetrating green eyes and is very attractive. It's hard to believe that a dense spy network is controlled by him.

“If it wasn't dangerous, you wouldn't have called us," Natasha replies in her usual seductive voice. Something about her makes you feel attracted in an unorthodox way, and you can't repress it. The moment you shared continues to reverberate in your mind, and now that you are more clear-headed, you are thinking about the consequences of how you feel about each other. You are afraid that there are feelings beyond sexual attraction, only on your part. Because yes. You are not only attracted to Natasha sexually but also spiritually. You need her, and you need her body. It has a strange effect on you, an effect that she shouldn't have on you.

The man explains what you have to do, step by step, recommending you not to reveal your identity even under torture or to an apparently innocent child. You have to head to Hawaii, where a woman is hiding, and you have to find her and neutralize her. It doesn't matter how, but you have to eliminate her. Her name is Nicole Jamisson, she is forty years old and was a former spy. She's selling top secret information to people not authorized to have it and now she's taking a vacation. Her last vacation in her entire life, you think.

You continue to look at Natasha, being careful not to let her see you. You observe how her hair moves with her head, how her lips move, and you carefully watch the movement of her hands. She notices you, catches your gaze, smiles at you, and you feel something inside you warm up. You immediately look away toward the perfect walls of the office.

You are ready to leave immediately after your boss shows you a photo of this woman, but you don't understand how it can be useful to you. She will surely have changed her appearance to avoid being easily found, but this won't stop you.

The flight is scheduled for early tomorrow morning, and you and Natasha have agreed to go shopping for some cute swimsuits and warm weather clothes together. One thing you love about your job is the expense reimbursement. You can go shopping pretending you need it for the mission, and they will reimburse it! It's not the first time you and Natasha have gone shopping together before a mission; it's now a tradition of yours.

You are in a large shopping center; everything you can imagine you could definitely find here. From food to objects. Inside, divided into three floors, there are many famous brand shops but there is no shortage of more humble shops. Each shop is decorated according to the type of goods sold while outside them the dominant colors are beige and green. There are soft armchairs in which the fathers of the family wait for the mother to finish and there is the smell of good food in the air. From ice cream to hot crepes to pizzas and sushi. You already know in your mind what you need to buy and, having come here many times, you know exactly where to find it. First visit to an underwear shop to buy some costumes. You can't go to Hawaii without having a nice one!

While looking at some costumes that might look good on you, you notice Natasha lost in thought. She is carefully looking at a costume, and you think she is debating whether to take it or not, so you decide to help her.

“That swimsuit would look amazing on you, don’t you think?," you tell her. It's definitely not her style, but it would suit her.

"Imagining you in that… pretty distraction," she says seriously, as if the most perverse thing ever had not come out of her lips. You flush and feel embarrassed because you're not alone. There are other people walking around the store who might have just overheard what Natasha told you.

You finish shopping, each with three bags full of things. You were lucky enough to have caught a day of sales with discounts of up to 70%. You greet the condo concierge, who welcomes you with a broad smile. He's definitely a spy placed to keep the common people safe in case someone gives out information about this place, but you're not sure. If you were the boss, it would be one of the things you would want to do, knowing normal people with a family and maybe a cat are in danger. You go up the elevator. There are ten floors in total, so it will take a while to get there. The same air that led you to an intimate relationship fills the elevator, and after a few seconds, you find yourself once again entangled in a passionate moment. Natasha lifts one of your thighs, digging her nails into it. She holds you to her in a possessive way, eager to take you there in that elevator. But it stops, and a woman in her thirties surprises you in that dirty kiss. You break away and say "good evening" to the woman, who decides to come between you with the fear that you might continue doing what you were doing. Natasha looks at you with desire still in her eyes, thinking that it's not exactly her day. You arrive at her floor, and she takes her bags and leaves, planting a tender kiss on your cheek in front of thewoman's prying eyes. You don't give such a sweet kiss to a woman whose body you desire, and upon understanding it, you smile like a teenager.

After a day like that, you just want to throw yourself into bed with your pajamas and your cat and sleep as long as you can before leaving for the mission that awaits you. You can't help but think, "What if I don't save myself this time?" Your thoughts are interrupted by a notification from your phone. It's Natasha.

"How about some pre-mission cuddle tonight?"

"Why?"

"I've always wanted to just hold you close before heading out. There's time to enjoy your company in Hawaii :)

Then you told me that you are always afraid before leaving. I'd like to reassure you a little.”

You don't even have time to answer, and your doorbell rings. You find yourself in front of Natasha wearing children's pajamas, a teddy bear-shaped stuffed animal, and some gummy sweets.

"I didn't want to make you inconvenience me, so here I am," she tells you on the threshold of the door with a smile on her lips.

"I remembered that you were crazy about these," she adds, handing you a bag of sweets, and you let her in.

You go to the bedroom, inside you know and hope that there won't just be cuddles in that bed. You position yourself next to each other and Natasha starts rubbing your arm first.

"How long have you had feelings for me?" you ask Natasha as she plays sweetly with your hair. Her scent envelops you like a warm blanket and you keep your head resting on her chest. Her heartbeat can barely be heard but it beats very softly and quickly. Her feelings are true.

"When I saw you for the first time I was surprised by how beautiful you were. I immediately felt a connection with you, but my gaze seemed to terrify you, so I wanted to avoid intruding into your private life," she explains, her hands moving gently on your face. She makes small circles on your cheeks and that very simple gesture relaxes you and fills your stomach with butterflies.

"You didn't scare me," you reply, filling your mouth with the sweets you love so much. "I was intimidated by your charm and you have a strange effect on me... I don't know how to explain it to you," you add later.

"I'm happy I found the courage to try to make a move with you," she says with a sigh, her caresses becoming sweeter and more tender.

"Natasha Romanoff who didn't have the courage to do something?" you mock her, giggling. To get revenge for your joke, she pinches your cheek.

"Be careful how you speak," she teases you.

"Otherwise?" Your sentence lights a spark in what was supposed to be a cuddle evening. But you're happy with what you just triggered. Natasha reaches inside your pajama bottoms.

"Is this what you wanted?" she asks, whispering in your ear and then playing with her tongue on your earlobe. She starts touching your pussy directly without caring about the fabric of your panties and inserts two fingers. A scream of pleasure escapes your lips as Natasha's fingers fill you. Your body seems created to accommodate her, everything she touches simply sends you on fire. Her thrusts are firm, she doesn't want to give you any mercy. She wants to make you scream her name and make you understand that the only one who can have you is her and only her.

“Have they ever said I love you while they fuck you like I'm doing?" She whispers to you while your slow legs tremble at her thrusts. You just shake your head no and she whispers.

"I love you, kukolka," while you come on her fingers. She puts her hands in your mouth and forces you to suck them so you can taste yourself. "I love you too," you whisper between spasms.

"Let's finish what we started this morning" you plead and she smiles at you smugly. In an instant all your clothes are at the foot of your bed and she is on top of you. You eat your lips as if they were strawberry jelly and in the meantime she stimulates your clit with her fingers. She dominates your mouth so you don't scream from the pleasure you're feeling right now. You feel like you want to take command and position yourself above her, between her legs. Make your intimacy stick together and while she sinks her nails into your left buttock you set a pace that can satisfy you both.

"I didn't imagine you being such a slut" Natasha says between sighs, biting her lower lip. You feel another orgasm about to take over your body but before then you position yourself with your face between Natasha's legs. You sink a finger inside her and lick her clit in the meantime. You're not going to stop until you feel her juices on your face. Natasha gently caresses your head asking for more and you please her until you are filled with her between your lips.

"Fuck, you're killing me" she compliments and then you lie down next to each other again, full of sweat and other sweet liquids and out of breath. You look at each other and smile at each other, complicit in what just happened.

"I really just wanted cuddles" Natasha says between sighs and you make a guilty expression. If Natasha had come there to you you wouldn't have allowed her to go without tasting her and feeling her inside you. With you.

You fall asleep hugging each other, sealing the birth of a relationship destined to last. As you lie there, thoughts about the upcoming mission swirl in your mind. Tomorrow, you will leave for Hawaii to track down Nicole Jamisson. She was once one of you-a spy-but now she sells secrets to the highest bidder. You can't help but wonder how she went from being a colleague to a target.

Would you end up the same way one day? Would Natasha? The thought makes your chest tighten. You can't bear the idea of losing her, not now, not after everything. 'I won't let that happen,' you think, your resolve hardening. 'This will be my last mission. After this, Natasha and I can leave this life behind. We can be together without the constant threat of death looming over us.

With that final thought, you drift off to sleep, feeling more determined than ever to make it through tomorrow-and the many tomorrows after that-alive and together.

The next morning you wake up to the news that your flight has been canceled and your mission aborted. The news that the flight has been canceled and the mission aborted because of the explosion of the plane leaves you petrified. The voice from the newscast echoes in your head as the world seems to stop around you. Fifty people dead, families destroyed in an instant. The realization of how close you were to death hits you like a punch in the gut. Natasha watches you with concern, reading the anguish on your face. Without saying a word, she wraps you in a warm embrace, her strong body against yours, offering the comfort that only she can provide. You stay like that for a long moment, the silence filled only by the sound of your hearts beating.

"You know," you finally murmur, "I can’t do this anymore. I can’t keep risking my life like this. Life is too short. I want to live every minute with you." She looks into your eyes, the green of her eyes shining with understanding and love.

"Me too," she says simply, holding you tighter.

You and Natasha walk into your boss's office, determination etched on both your faces. The white, immaculately painted walls and the ancient Greek decor that once seemed impressive now feel like a facade hiding the dangers of your profession. Your boss looks up from his desk, his penetrating green eyes locking onto yours.

“We need to talk,” Natasha says firmly, taking a step forward. She places an envelope containing your resignation letters on his desk. He raises an eyebrow, leaning back in his chair.

“I assume this is about the explosion?”

“Yes,” you reply, your voice steady but filled with emotion.

“Nicole Jamisson knew about our mission. The plane exploded to prevent us from reaching her. How did she get that information?” Your boss's face hardens.

“We’re investigating. But I assure you, our security protocols are—”

“Your security protocols failed!” Natasha interrupts, her voice rising. “Fifty people are dead. Fifty innocent lives lost because of a leak in our system. And what if they had decided to blow up this building instead?” Your boss's expression darkens, but he remains silent.You take a deep breath, trying to steady your nerves.

“What would have happened if they had wanted to blow up this condo directly? Do you realize how many lives would be at risk, including ours? We’ve put our lives on the line for this organization time and time again, but this… this is too much.” Natasha nods, her hand finding yours for support. “We can’t continue like this. We can’t work in an environment where our safety is compromised at every turn. We’re done.” Your boss leans forward, his hands clasped on the desk.

“You’re some of the best agents we have. Leaving now means giving up everything you’ve worked for, everything you’ve fought for.”

“We’re not giving up,” you say, your voice calm but resolute. “We’re choosing to live. To value our lives and each other more than this endless cycle of danger and death.” Natasha squeezes your hand. “We’re out. Effective immediately.” For a moment, silence fills the room. Your boss’s face is a mask of frustration and resignation. Finally, he nods. “Very well. I’ll process your resignations. But know this… you’ll always have a place here, should you choose to return.” Without another word, you and Natasha turn and leave the office, the weight of your decision lifting with every step. As you walk out of the building for the last time, you feel a sense of freedom and resolve. You don’t know what the future holds, but you know one thing for sure you’ll face it together.

Let me know what you think and thanks for reading! I remind you that requests are open so if you want me to write you something.

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