#because she thought it was better than to end up growing old alone ''with a cat'' Explore tagged Tumblr posts

[gender-euphowrya]

charmed was on tv yesterday and it was an episode with one of them ~cursed ancient egyptian relic~ and it made me laugh so hard when the. Idk. pharaoh ghost person appeared and it was a blue-eyed white woman

[delulujuls]

tinder buddies | ln4

hi! i have no idea how to comment on that. i've got inspiration from the rumors that are now going on twitter and tiktok about lando and his activity in sm and i thought man, i need to write something in this narrative because sexting with him??? scuse me??? but of course all of this is fiction and and i dont have any statement on the rumors about lan, mostly because all of these are rumors and not facts. anyway, pls leave his poor papaya ass alone and enjoy this instead!

summary: when you met your tinder buddy irl and realize how indeed world is small

warnings: masturbation on cam (both male and female), bit of swearing, in general alott of sexual tention

pairing: fem!journalist!reader x lando norris

Y/N thought that she was good at what she was doing. She thought that despite her young age she fit in the world of motorsport really well. Sometimes it even crossed her mind that she was no different from her older colleagues, what's more, sometimes she even thought that she was better than them. However, she admitted this only to herself with complete modesty and behind tightly closed doors.

Apart from the fact that Y/N was a really good journalist whose career was growing at a surprising pace, at the end of the day she was just a twenty-two-year-old girl who, like many other twenty-two-year-old girls in the world, had her smaller and bigger sins.

Y/N breathed heavily as she entered her hotel room. She set her suitcase and bag aside, taking off her shoes and plopping down on the bed. It was well after midnight, her flight was delayed by several hours and she was simply exhausted by the passing day. Even though she was excited about the events that awaited her in a few hours, right now she was just tired. However, she knew perfectly well what would help her relax before going to sleep. Not so much what, but who.

The girl unlocked her phone and easily found the Instagram icon, clicking on it and going straight to the messages. She entered the first conversation and was about to write some prosaic message, but she didn't have time to type out half of the sentence when a new message appeared in the chat.

"u up?"

Y/N smiled to herself. It looked like she could count on a pleasant end to the day.

"I was just about to ask you the same thing"

The reply message appeared a moment later.

"i was waiting for you to be available. i thought the evening would be wasted"

"And yet you see, surprise"

The person on the other end smiled and untied the drawstring on his sweatpants. He quickly wrote his answer with one hand.

"wanna call?"

"I think you know the answer"

She smiled and reached for the switch and turned off the light, pressing the camera icon with her other hand.

Y/N and the boy she had been messaging with for a little over a month knew next to nothing about each other. She had a private account and a few photos, he had a black icon and an empty profile. He only knew her name, she only the first letter of his. They met on Tinder, their profiles there looked quite similar. She has a few photos, more of the body than the face, he has the same, mostly in black and white. They had never seen each other's faces, but they knew each other's bodies inside and out.

Y/N placed her phone on the table and leaned it against the lamp, which she turned on a moment later. The light from it was dim, but it illuminated her body enough. The angle her phone was at only showed her from the neck down. She was perfect at maintaining her privacy.

"New background?"

He asked, seeing that the surroundings behind her were different from those he had seen before. She pulled her sweatshirt over her head, leaving her in only a bra and a thin t-shirt.

"I'm away from home"

"Work?"

"Too many questions"

There was quiet laughter on the other side. He liked her temperament. He liked her curves even more and the sounds she made when, at his command, she pushed her fingers inside her and brought herself to orgasm. Yes, he liked that too.

"Yeah, you're right. Strip."

Y/N pulled the t-shirt over her head and her interlocutor saw a red, lace bra that he never seen on her before. He smiled and ran his hand over his crotch. He felt a chill run through him.

"You look good, baby. Red suits you"

She laughed and pushed her hair behind her shoulders.

"Is this the first time you gonna tell me to keep my bra on?"

"For now, yes. I'd love to look at it for a while" he squeezed his cock and began to lightly massage it through the fabric. "You know what to do, dont'cha?"

Y/N bit her lip and lifted her hands, placing them gently on her shoulders. She slowly moved them down her body and when she found her breasts, she slowly started massaging them in circular motions. She closed her eyes and tilted her head slightly, hearing the sigh that came from her phone. He watched her carefully, following her every move.

"Take it off," he said after a while, "It's pretty, but I think I prefer you without it."

She quickly took off her bra and threw it aside. He smiled at the sight of her breasts. Y/N returned to them, continuing their massage. As she lightly pinched her nipples, she moaned softly. His cock vibrated at the sound that came from his headphones. He smiled.

"Does it feel good, baby?"

"Mhm, yeah" she answered, looking again at her phone "But you're playing unfair again. I have to see you too."

He chuckled and shook his head.

"You don't let me enjoy you"

He replied and put down the phone, quickly pulling his shirt over his head. He fell back on the pillows and turned on the light on his phone. Y/N smiled at the sight of the familiar, slightly tanned and toned torso. Her interlocutor didn't see it, but she smiled even more when he tightened his hand on his cock, which was now clearly visible on the gray material of his trousers.

"Take off the rest of your clothes and lie down"

He ordered. Y/N obediently lay down, taking off her pants and underwear. When the rustle of fabric could be heard on the other side, he easily freed himself from his pants and tight, slightly damp boxers. He spat on his hand and spread the saliva over his cock, feeling it tighten under his touch. Fuck, what he would give if instead of his hand it was this tiny hand that disappeared between the pair of thighs he saw on the screen of his phone.

The girl complied with his command and he saw her middle finger slowly sinking inside her, only to come out after a while covered with her juices.

"Fuck," he muttered under his breath, "You're so wet, baby."

“I wish you were here and licked me clean.”

Y/N said, rubbing her clit. She felt that she wouldn't need much to reach orgasm.

Her interlocutor smiled under his breath, but she wasn't able to see it.

"I'm afraid that i would make you even more wet."

"Someone has quite an ego here"

"I know my capabilities, baby."

She snorted under her breath and made herself more comfortable, inserting her finger into herself again. First one, quite slowly, and soon she added another one. A long moan filled the hotel room as she began to move them, imagining that it was not her but him who was fucking her. And not with his fingers, but with his wet, hard cock.

"Yeah, just like that, baby. Keep going."

His eyes carefully followed the screen and the activities taking place on it. His hand moved smoothly over his cock, his lips were slightly opened. As he was stroking himself, the glass of his watch on his wrist reflected the light from the phone. He wore it every time they cam together. Y/N didn't know anything about watches, so she didn't know what brand it was or whether it was expensive. They never talked about it, honestly, they basically never had a normal chat. However, he once asked her about the tattoo on her forearm, just below the inner bend of her elbow. He noticed it after the first time they met on camera. When it was all over and they were about to hang up and return to their real lives, he asked about it.

"What does 33 mean?"

He asked when the girl started getting dressed.

"What?"

"Tattoo on your arm"

The girl looked at her forearm and only then did she understand what he was asking about.

"I can't tell you because you'll make fun of me"

Hearing this, he smiled. Not because there was probably some stupid story behind it, but because the girl was concerned about not looking bad in front of him. Even though they absolutely didn't know each other.

"I barely know your name, I don't know why I would make fun of you."

Y/N was silent for a moment, glancing at her tattoo and lightly stroking it with her thumb.

"Do you know Formula 1?"

He smiled and nodded. His reaction, however, was beyond her reach.

"I know a thing or two"

"My favorite driver drives with this number. Well, actually he did, now his number is 1. But for me it will still be associated with 33"

The girl explained. She felt a bit embarrassed to expose herself to him, especially with something like this. However, he did not laugh at her or comment on her confession in any negative way.

"I have a friend who is also involved in motorsport and has the same number. Actually, not anymore, because he also had to change it. But for me it will also be associated only with 33"

Y/N smiled at his words. Sometimes she wondered if they could become friends and get to know each other a little better. But then she decided to come down to earth and remind herself that she had no time for relationships or friendships. Now the most important thing for her is work and career, everything else can wait. After all, no one will satisfy her as much as herself. Right?

"Fuck, I could fill you so good, baby," he moaned, gasping for breath. He felt that he was only seconds away from orgasm "You have no idea how much pleasure I would give you."

The girl's lips were opened, her eyelids were shut tightly. She massaged her clit with her left hand and moved the fingers of her right hand inside her in quick, uneven movements.

"I'm about to- I…oh my god-"

“Yes, baby, thats it" he gasped, speeding up "Cum for me.”

She felt a wave of pleasure wash over her. The moment her back arched, she heard a long "fuck" coming from her phone. He came shortly after her, staining his toned abs with his sperm. He squeezed his eyes shut and tilted his head back, trying to calm his breathing. There was silence on both sides for a moment, neither of them moving an inch.

After some time, Y/N sat on the bed and reached for a tissue, wiping her hands on it.

"I have to go now. I have a lot of work waiting for me tomorrow."

"Me too. I wanted to let you know that we may not be able to have a call tomorrow."

He answered, also wiping himself.

“It's okay, no big deal,” Y/N replied and took one last look at the muscled, tanned torso visible on her phone screen, “Good night. And good luck with your chores tomorrow.”

“Good night, baby. You too.”

She smiled and reached for her phone, ending the call. Exhausted from the previous day and the evening cam session, she just buried herself in the blanket and shortly after fell asleep. The next day, when her alarm went off, she was full of energy despite several hours of sleep. She couldn't wait for saturday's qualifying and all she was thinking about as she was getting ready was whether she would be able to get good material.

As she put on her red bra, she smiled involuntarily as she remembered last night. She wondered if he had already gotten lost in the whirlwind of his today's duties. Y/N quickly got dressed, gathered her things and, putting her pass around her neck, left the hotel. When she got to the track and was in the paddock, she couldn't think about anything else. Her only thoughts revolved around what was going to happen on the track in a few dozen minutes. However, for a split second she wondered what her tinder buddy actually knew about Formula 1. Maybe they could have something to talk about? Maybe she could even take him to some grand prix?

Her thoughts disappeared when she noticed Lando Norris hanging around the McLaren garage. The girl asked the cameraman to prepare the equipment and she would ask the Brit if he would be willing to have a short conversation. She squeezed the microphone in her hand and without thinking, she approached him, introducing herself and asking if it was possible to record a short conversation.

Hearing her name, his heart did a flip. He knew that name very well.

"Sure, no problem"

He replied with a smile, obviously not revealing himself, and ran his hand through his hair. The glass of the watch strapped to his wrist gleamed in the sunlight. Y/N had seen this watch before. Many times.

The girl smiled back and, hearing his agreement, gave a thumbs up to the cameraman. When she raised her hand, the sleeve of her shirt rolled up, and Lando's eyes involuntarily caught the tattoo on her forearm. A slight 33, just below the bend in the elbow.

He felt a sudden wave of heat wash over him. It's a coincidence, right? It must be.

"How's your mood before qualifying?"

Y/N asked, putting the microphone down and straightening her shirt. As she was arranging her collar, Lando's eyes caught a glimpse of her red bra strap. He smiled to himself and looked down. He wondered how many accidents and coincidences had come together in the universe and resulted in this situation.

"What? Something wrong?"

The girl asked, not knowing what made him react like that.

He shook his head and after a moment looked up again. He looked at the girl carefully. However, she was completely lost and looked at him questioningly.

"Sorry, as you can probably see, my mood is great. I'm positive about today's qualifying."

Y/N tentatively gripped her microphone. When the cameraman approached them, they started recording the footage and she had no time to analyze Lando's strange behavior. In fact, it was possible that this was their first and last conversation ever, so why should she care about it. When they managed to record a short material, Y/N thanked him and wished him successful qualifications. After that everyone went their separate ways.

Immediately after entering the garage, Lando found his phone buried in a pile of his things. He quickly entered his latest conversation on Instagram and, without thinking, decided to send the girl a message. Worst case scenario, he'll just make a fool of himself, which isn't a big deal since they don't know each other at all. At best, he would spend tonight as he had long dreamed of.

"ure even prettier than i thought, baby."

Y/N felt a vibration in her pants pocket and without thinking, she unlocked her phone. She was surprised to see a notification coming from Instagram, and she was even more surprised when she noticed who sent her the message. After reading it, she felt a cold sweat break out on her. However, she decided to think and act soberly.

"How do you know what I look like?"

"turn around"

Lando replied quickly and leaned against the threshold of his garage. The girl clutched her phone in her hands and obeyed his command with her heart beating wildly. Lando smiled at her, holding his still unlocked phone. Y/N felt a lack of saliva in her mouth. It's impossible, it's not really happening.

"Are you sure we're looking at the same person?"

She replied, having difficulty pressing the appropriate keys with her fingers. He was amused by her reaction. This whole situation didn't make sense to him. It was crazy.

"im looking at a pretty neat journalist with a mad bunda who has a tattoo with my friend's racing number. and u?"

Y/N blushed. Fuck. It's him.

"I see that your jumpsuit is a little tight in some places."

Lando snorted under his breath. The girl wasn't lying. The whole situation made quite an impression on him.

Y/N bit her lip and looked up. She'd be lying if she said it wasn't arousing.

"u know exactly why its tight"

"I guess I have to find out in real life. The camera likes to lie."

When she sent the message, she looked up again and their eyes locked. The Brit winked at her and quickly replied, turning on his heel and disappearing into the depths of the garage.

"my driver's room in five minutes. ill be happy to dispel your doubts"

[priniya]

ᯓᡣ𐭩 FORTS AND DADDY TIME! ᡣ𐭩ᯓ

pairing. oscar piastri x leclerc!wife!reader

summary. when you need to stay at work for longer than expected, you leave oscar with your daughter. when you come home earlier than your husband thought, the cutest scene plays in front of you.

notes. tysm for loving my previous dad!oscar fic!!! this one’s also not proofread but lets pretend like there is not a single mistake in here 😙😙😙

days like this were the hardest, especially with the thought of oscar’s summer break inevitable ending occupying your mind. every year, you wanted to make sure you had spent the maximum time with him and chloe, before parting your ways for a while again. going back to the office, while you were spending the precious time with your husband and daughter, was something you hated, mostly, because chloe was the biggest daddy’s girl on earth. some people might’ve gotten jealous over the fact that they’re not their baby’s favorite parent, but you loved watching oscar interact with chloe.

but honestly, leaving them alone was still a bit of a stressful situation for you and your emotions were all over the place as you tried writing down all the necessary things just in case oscsr forgets, which wasn’t likely to happen, but still — you wanted to be more than sure.

“baby, i know how to look after chloe.” oscar laughed softly, his arms wrapped around your waist as he stood behind, placing a single kiss on your neck. “we’re gonna have much fun today, right, squish?” he asked, when the little girl leaned on his leg, looking up at the two of you with a sweet smile. she nodded eagerly, earning a small chuckle from you.

“i good girl.” chloe replied confidently, wrapping her arms around oscar’s leg, wanting to stay as close to him as possible, despite it was you the one leaving (even if it was for a few long hours). “mommy good girl, too! and daddy good girl, too too!” the two of you had to stifle a laugh as your daughter praised you on being good girls.

a few minutes later, quite a couple of reassuring words from your husband, a few wet, sloppy kisses on your cheeks and a literal push out of the door and oscar was left with your little squish. at first everything was calm, chloe was sprawled out on the carpet, playing with her little’s pet shops collection, making a little voice-over, while your husband was preparing a strawberry smoothie for her.

though, before he knew it, he was dressed in one of your dresses, wearing a plastic tiara on his head with stickers plastered all over his cheeks, while sitting at chloe’s small, colourful table with some of her favorite plushies (a panda named jimmy, a koala named arty [after her favorite uncle], ginny the giraffe and daphne the dolphin).

“c’mon, princess squish, do a spin for daddy.” oscar smiled, watching as his daughter did a spin. he helped her get into her purple tutu dress, put a tiara and a few hair clips in the strands of her blond hair. to make her princess tea party experience even better, he took some of your eyeshadow palettes and put some on her to match her purple dress.

“i so pretty, daddy!” she squeaked happily, doing a little dance. “tea?” she asks as she plops down on her dad’s lap, pouring a pretend tea into his pink cup. “tasty, tasty.” she nodded, taking a sip.

“yeah, you’re my pretty princess, squish.” oscar chuckled, earning himself one of the most beautiful views in the world — his daughter grinning, showing him her baby teeth. your husband couldn’t help but to grin back at her, feeling her little arms wrap around his neck as she went in for a hug.

oscar was a sucker for moment like those, as much as he wished you were there to witness it, he loved spending time with chloe, seeing her grow up every day, noticing those slight changes in the way she constructed her sentences and how the incoherent babbling started to turn into actual words and sentences. he was counting down the days till she was old enough to not tire you out whenever on a flight, so he could see her happy face after a race and to show her the beauties of the world on a free day. god, she was the the most important person in the world for him in a way he could drop everything to make sure she was happy.

his heart ached painfully, every time he was away from you and chloe for longer than a few days and with his hectic schedule. everything seemed to be a lot better, when his lucky charms were next to him.

the princess tea party went on for almost another hour until the princess hosting it started to slowly get tired and tired, snuggling up to him after they finished cleaning everything up. it took them some time, because she had to give each of her plushies a few kisses before placing them in her bed, tucking them in. “you’re such a sweet girl, aren’t you, baby?” he chuckled, watching her as he leaned on the doorframe of her room.

she tilted her head with a tiny smile as she ran towards her dad, unfortunately, she tripped on the edge of the carpet, scraping her knees at the friction as she fell. tears started falling down her cheeks in an instant and oscar’s heart broke in half. he knew accidents happen all the time, but he wasn’t prepared for one involving his daughter, when he was all alone, even if it was just a small scratch.

“shh, hey, what’s with the fuss?” he asked in a calm voice, gently picking her up. your husband placed a few soft kisses on chloe’s wet cheek to calm her down. “s’okay, daddy’s gonna take care of your ouchie.” he reassured as she nuzzled her teary face against his neck, sniffling quietly.

“fait mal, daddy.” she sniffled. oscar was glad that once in a while, your brothers wanted to mess with him and spoke only in french before chloe was born, so he could pick up on what his daughter was saying. hurts.

“i know, squish.” he sighed, gently sitting her down on the couch, telling his baby to sit still, while she tried to wipe away her flowing cheeks. he sprayed antiseptic on her scratches, holding her hand with his free one. a small gasp left his daughter’s lips as the spray coated her ouchies. “such a brave, girl.” he coaxed, placing two band-aids on her disinfected knees (with puppies, of course). when her face was no longer in tears, a sad pout appeared on her lips, making oscar’s stomach turn.

“how about, we make a blanket fort and watch some cartoon before you go to sleep, hm?” he suggested, the pout disappearing in a second, being replaced my a grin. a blanket fort? that sounds super cool. he pulled a few chairs together, putting a blanket on top of it as chloe’s eyes widened in shock and excitement.

the final product was breathtaking, at least for chloe, because oscar did everything he could to make the blanket fort look magical as he put pillows on the floor, put up lights and brought his ipad to play chloe’s favorite movie.

before he knew it, his little girl was curled up against his side, his hand gently moving up and down against her back as her head rested on the side of his chest. her eyes were slowly closing, but she wanted to stay in the fort and he wasn’t in the mood to deal with a tantrum of a sleepy, cranky little girl.

when you came back from work, the apartment looked clean, as if oscar sedated your little ball of energy and hired a cleaning company. that was your thought process, until you noticed a blanket fort in the living room and your heart melted like a chocolate in a water bath. you quietly took off your shoes and tiptoed to the fort, peaking inside. seeing the view completely shattered your heart in the most positive way possible.

“you’re back already?” oscar asked quietly, not wanting to disturb chloe’s sleep as she was laying down on his chest. “thought it’d take a little longer.” he smiled affectionately at you.

“think there’s some room for me?” your mouth curled into a small beam as he nodded, quickly taking a spot next to him, finally noticing that he’s wearing one of your dresses and you had to stiffle a laugh.

oscar noticed your expression and groaned quietly. “we had a princess party.” he explained, though the pretend angered look quickly dissolved, replaced by a playful smile. “your daughter didn’t let me be a prince, so i had to stole one of your dresses. i’ll show you the photos tomorrow morning.” he kissed your temple as you snuggled up closer, your hand gently rubbing chloe’s back.

[readychilledwine]

Could i request something where az and reader are mates. They have a huge fight and “break up” and reader leaves the court. She finds out that she is pregnant and writes him a letter. He never shows up so she thinks he doesn’t want the baby. Rhys visit the court she is in and sees her with a child maybe a couple months old. He is mad because she didn’t told him and when he ask her why she keeps his nephew away she tells him that she wrote az but he never answered. Rhys is mad and ask az what is up with him to just leave his pregnant mate. Unbeknownst to him that az was searching for her the whole time. Az tells him that he never got a letter and they find out that maybe elain burned it. It takes some time for them but they find their way back and just fluff azriel dad who teaches his son how to fly.

( you could write more angst between reader and az because of elain or you could use a maid or something who wants az)

Here Without You

Summary - Being a single mother was more painful than you'd ever thought it would be, especially when your son's father was just a court away.

Warnings - Angst, Elain showing those claws, single mom status, a child, PPD and the thoughts that come with it, **edited to add** cheating

A/N - I had one of my friends who is a single mom help me with this one while also imagining my life without baby daddy, and um, yeah. We cried a lot, so hopefully, you all do too.

*message from Liz regarding the ending at the end*

💙Peep my Azriel Masterlist Here💙

You had decided whatever you had done to offend the Mother must have been truly unforgettable and unforgivable as you sank against the wall of your family chambers in the Day Court Palace.

Being a new mother was the hardest thing you had ever and will ever do. You had finally gotten Nox down after 3 hours of fussing and tears, and now you waited. He'd sleep 2 hours if you were lucky, wake up crying, and you'd start the process over.

You had wished for your mate more times than you could count, but that bridge was long gone and burned. He had ensured of that by not coming when you wrote him, by not even bothering to write you a response.

The last fight between you and Azriel had been ugly. Glasses had been thrown, a bottle of wine knocked over in rage, cruel words you would both have to live with ringing in your ears like a scream. 350 years. Gone. Thrown away like garbage. All for Elain.

Selfish, plotting, destructive Elain.

You stood, body swaying with sleep deprivation setting in before sitting at the table where your now cold food set. You were too tired to eat, choosing to instead drink the water you had been desperately craving 4 hour ago.

You had wished you could turn it to wine, drink it with no consequences, and still feed Nox when he woke, but that was not the reality of the world. So, instead, you allowed the room temperature flavorless beverage to slide down your throat before moving like a ghost to the couch. There was no point in getting comfortable in your own bed. You would have to be up soon anyway. It wasn’t as if you had help.

You were alone.

And that wasn't even the most painful part of it.

The most painful part was setting in doubt. The growing disbelief that you weren't capable of this, that Nox deserved more, that you should have dropped him at the cabin you had no doubt Elain had moved into, leaving him with her and Azriel to allow you to-

You cut your brain off, refusing to put those words into a full thought. Refusing to believe that your disappearance or death was better for your son than this.

This had to be enough, you had to be enough, because Gods if it wasn't and you weren't, then what truly was the point in living any longer.

Helion entered your chambers the next morning, eyes falling to where you were sat on the floor, shoulders shaking as sobs tore through you. He placed a large warm hand on your shoulder before taking Nox from your arms. "I know I can not offer much of a break due to his feeding cycle, but when is the last time you ate a hot meal, y/n?"

You shook your head. He was 2 weeks old. You supposed it had been before labor. Since then, it had been moments begging for just a second of deep sleep. Moments begging for the Mother to help you, to guide you. Moments where those prayers went unanswered as if they were just thrown into a void. "I don't remember."

Helion could have killed Azriel for you, for Lucien, for Nox. He almost had when you had winnowed yourself here, collapsing in his arms from the exhaustion magic and a growing babe had caused your body.

You hadn't known when you came to the Day Court, begging your oldest friend for a week of safety and healing that you were pregnant, but the High Lord had scented it the second you appeared.

It left him wondering how the hell Azriel hadn't.

"Let me hire a wet nurse for you," he offered again, knowing you would turn it down since your depressive state had you hyper fixated in this belief that all you were good for now was your breasts, and if you gave that duty away, what purpose did you have? "At least for the next few hours. To give you time to rest?"

You still shook your head, messy, tangled hair trying to sway. "I can't. I can't burden someone else."

Helion turned his head away from you, willing himself not to cry at the emptiness of your voice, at the lifelessness you had become.

"The Night Court and Spring are coming today," he started slowly. "I am the magic selected neutral ground for Tamlin and Rhysand to begin setting a peace treaty and trade routes." He waited for your reaction, almost breaking further as you gave him none. "Do you want to see any of them?"

"Lucien and Tamlin."

Helion felt his heart shatter for Cassian, the male who had been asking about you for months now. "The general-"

"Is Azriel's brother. And probably has taken his side. Attempts to see me are probably to give him some sick sort of satisfaction."

He dropped the subject immediately. Nox was asleep, content in the High Lord's arms. "I have time before they arrive, go nap." Helion ordered it, eyes blazing a soft gold and forcing you into submission.

Your bed had never felt so soft.

Helion was walking with Nox around the Palace, smiling and cooing the little male. He was always content when he was being held, and you were so deeply asleep you hadn't even noticed Helion holding the boy to your chest as he nursed. He walked towards where Lucien and Tamlin were.

His son, his pride and joy, looked just radiant in his Day Court attire. The soft, off-white pleaded fabric draping him showed the new healthy build he had gained since Azriel and Elain's transgressions, a golden snake wrapped his bicep, new golden earrings adorned those many piercings.

Lucien paused, a look of concern etching his face when he saw Nox before shaking his head rapidly.

But it was too late, Helion was already in the room where Rhysand also stood with the Inner Circle. The Lord of Night's face fell as he looked at the Illyrian boy, looking so happy up at Helion as he dozed off.

Cassian had frozen, mid sentence with Nesta. He had tried to take a step, wanting to see the babe he immediately knew was his nephew. His eyes met Helion's pleading with permission to approach. Elain's face had paled. A mix of guilt and fear running across it before she schooled it into a faked look of hurt and sadness.

But it was Azriel's face the broke the High Lord. It was a look he knew all too well.

The look of a father who missed the birth of his child.

The look of a father who didn't know he had a child.

The look of a father mourning lost time.

Lucien moved to Helion, taking Nox before leaving the room quickly. The boy did as he always did when his head found Lucien's warm bare shoulder. He released a heavy breath, snuggling into that familiar scent and warmth. "Your mother did not call for me last night," they all heard his soft voice trailing off, speaking to their nephew softly.

"You will tell me everything I do not know," Rhysand demanded as if he was in his own court. "When the fuck was he born. Why were we not informed of her pregnancy?"

Tamlin looked to Helion, digging the shit further. "Is she in the same room as last time?" The Lord of Day nodded. "I will go see her while you all deal with this."

Helion didn't answer, walking to the centered round table and taking the head seat. "To begin, Rhysand, this is my court. You will not make demands of me in my home." They all sat, aside from Azriel. His gaze was locked on the hallway Lucien and Tamlin had gone down.

If he ran, he could catch them. He could see you. He could-

The slam of hands on a table ripped him from his thoughts, and his head snapped to Helion. The High Lord was blazing, glowing like the sun itself, heat radiating from him. "Sit. Down."

An hour later and Rhysand had the bridge of his nose pinched between his fingers. "You saw her send each letter?"

Helion rolled his eyes, nodding again. "Every month after every check up and once after the birth."

Rhys pointed to Azriel. "But you never got them?"

"My son wouldn't be in another court if I had," Azriel's voice mirrored yours. Broken, empty, mourning. Mourning what was, what he had missed and would never get back. "You're sure she sent them to me?"

Helion could have snapped his neck. "Who else would have fathered her babe? You are the one who stepped out of the bonds of marriage and mateship. Not her."

Azriel paused, a sudden look of anger gracing his face as he looked up at Elain, shadows curling his ears. Nuala appeared, setting envelopes down in front of Rhysand. "In her room. Under her bed in a locked chest. Along with every communication you had tried to send to y/n, my lord."

Feyre gasped, turning her back to Elain and leaning further into Rhysand, holding Nyx tightly between them. She remembered those first few weeks. The sleepless nights, the pain, the emotional down pour. She would not have survived without Rhysand. Without Nesta and Mor. Without Cassian and you and Azriel. Her sister, the one who had held her as darkness swallowed her mind after her son's birth, had allowed you to endure this alone.

Azriel's hands shook, reaching for that stack. He separated out the letters. 10 for him. 2 for Rhysand and Feyre. 2 for Mor. 2 for Amren. 4 for Cassian and Nesta.

Helion stood. "I will let you all process this. Call for me when you are ready to do negotiations. The sooner you all leave, the better for her."

Rhysand's eyes shot up. "You won't let us explain to her-"

"Does it change the fact that he took Elain to their marriage bed? Does it change that he signed the annulment papers." Silence filled the room. "I believe that's why she left. Correct?" Rhys grit his teeth nodding. "Then all this changes is me, someone she trusts and feels safe with right now, informing her of what happened and allowing her to decide if she wants to reach out again from that point." He made a pointed look at Elain. "Which would not matter since I cannot see you removing the parasite from your court."

Helion walked into your room to Lucien and Nox laying skin to skin, a blanket over them as Tamlin held you, long fingers running through your dark hair. "And?" His son said.

"Your mate hid the letters regarding her pregnancy." Lucien whistled. "She's a snake hiding behind beautiful scales."

Azriel had tracked down your room with his shadows easily. The inner circle had been excused for the negotiations and allowed to explore the city. Cassian had flown Elain home, Mor and Amren winnowing Nesta behind them. Cassian wanted Elain out of his house, and Azriel could not have been more grateful to his brother for having his back.

He entered the room slowly and quietly. You were placing the babe in a crib on the balcony. It was shaded from the sun, shielded to remain the perfect temperature, and yet gave him access to fresh air, to the breeze.

You turned, eyes wide the second you saw Azriel. He moved to you so quickly that you could hardly process it. One second, your feet were on the ground, and the next, arms held you tight against him. Azriel was breathing deeply, memorizing your scent all over again.

He set you down, keeping you close to his chest, and sent a prayer to the Mother. "Elain hid all the letters," he began slowly. "She kept them all in her room. I didn't know. Had I known about you, about him, I would have crawled the very depths of hell to bring you back home to me."

You didn't answer. Tears fell as your body relaxed into him. It wasn't fair. The hold he had on you. The need you still felt in your bones when he touched your skin. You ached for Azriel so deeply it echoed into your bones. You longed for his smell. His voice.

Azriel took your silence as permission to continue. "I made a mistake. I will never be able to make up for it. Elain knew the second you left, I wanted to correct this. I was so blinded by her, by the feeling of being needed like that again, that I forgot how precious your independence was. How beautiful it is."

He couldn't stop himself from kissing the top of your head. "You are all I think about. Morning, noon, and night, it is always and will always be you. I am so sorry for what I have done. I am sorry for hurting you, for ruining us, for hurting the family we should be raising together. There are no words for my remorse."

"Why?" Your voice broke as you asked. "Why wasn't I enough?"

Azriel pulled back to look at you, hand raising to hold your chin and force eye contact. "Y/n, you are not at fault for my actions. You did nothing wrong. There is no partial blame, no what ifs. I fucked up. I made a mistake and it cost both of us everything. You are the victim of my actions, not the catalyst."

He saw you process those words and saw as they sunk in. "You were and are more than I will ever deserve. I want to spend my lifetime making up for it. Becoming a male you are proud of. I want to be the father I never got to have. I want to be the husband and mate you deserve. I know it will take time, and I do not expect your forgiveness today, but if you give me a chance, I will go to my grave worshipping the ground you two walk."

"Do you want to meet our son?" He broke at the question, feeling the bond opening back on your end. "This doesn't mean we're back together. It means we need to coparent for him while we work on things." He nodded rapidly, following you to the bassinet.

It felt like the world was coming full circle. You knew it would take time, that you two had many things to discuss first. This was a needed good start, though. Your pain eased slightly as you pulled back the curtains to the crib and whispered, "Azriel, this is Nox, your son."

@hnyclover @glitterypirateduck @slytherinindisguise @mischiefmanager @bloodicka @starsinyourseyes @the-sweet-psycho

**I have received some pretty nasty anon asks, some unconstructive comments, and a good amount of general negativity regarding this fic. If you are unhappy with the ending and want to know why I made the choices I made as the author, click #discussingherewithoutyou. Unconstructive comments will be receiving the same copy and paste answer from here forward.

My time and content are free. If you do not like them, scroll.

General Taglist:

@mariahoedt @rinalouu @sarawritestories @starryhiraeth @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @cumuluscranium

Azriel Taglist:

@elle4404

[shdysders]

a cold table

pairing: vada cavell & reader

summary: in which your anniversary with vada didn't turn out like it was supposed to.

word count: 4.8k

author’s note: proof reading this honestly just makes me throw a tantrum bc it’s ridiculously bad in my view. but i’m posting this in hopes of you liking it.

You and Vada were the epitome of "opposites attract."

On the surface, it seemed almost impossible that you two would end up together, let alone be the type of couple that made people smile just by looking at you.

Vada was the kind of girl who looked like she just grabbed her dad's clothes from the laundry basket and made it work. Putting together outfits that made no sense to anyone but her.

Oversized flannel shirts, baggy jeans and sneakers that had seen better days—she wore it all with an air of confidence that dared anyone to question her choices.

She didn't care about trends, and you couldn't imagine her spending more than five minutes deciding what to wear.

You however, were the opposite—always put together, wearing clothes that you knew looked good on you because you liked feeling confident and in control.

When it came to school, Vada was effortlessly good at everything she tried.

She could ace a test without studying, participate in class debates with barely any preparation, and somehow still find time to be the laid-back, carefree person everyone admired.

She had a mind that worked faster than most, but she didn't flaunt it.

You, on the other hand, had to work hard for your grades. School didn't come easily to you, but you cared enough to put in the effort.

You stayed up late studying, agonized over assignments, and took pride in every hard-earned B+ you received. Your determination was something Vada admired, even if she never said it out loud.

Although she would tease you about how seriously you took school, but when it came down to it, she'd show up for study sessions, sometimes even surprising you by actually helping.

And even though you weren't a natural at school, you made sure she didn't slack off too much, reminding her about deadlines and sometimes dragging her to the library when she'd rather be anywhere else.

Everyone at school saw how different you and Vada were. Some people were surprised when you first started dating, while others seemed to have seen it coming from a mile away.

Vada had a way of making you feel like you were the only person in the room, even when you were surrounded by people.

She listened to you, really listened, like your thoughts were the most important thing in the world. When you talked about your day, no matter how mundane, she would look at you with those deep, thoughtful eyes and nod along.

And you were always there for her, too. Vada might have been the laid-back one, but she had her moments of doubt, and you were the first person she'd turn to.

People noticed how you two balanced each other out. You didn't try to change one another, but you definitely influenced each other in subtle ways.

You brought some structure into Vada's life, and she taught you how to loosen up a bit. You didn't make a show of your relationship, but the way you naturally gravitated toward each other said a lot.

Everyone could see that, even if you didn't make a big deal out of it, you were good for each other.

And even though people didn't really talk about you and Vada much—there wasn't any drama, no on-again, off-again stuff.

You were just there, solid and steady, the kind of couple everyone figured would last. It was easy to imagine you two growing old together, the high school sweethearts who actually made it.

You thought so, too. For the longest time, it just felt like you and Vada were meant to be, that nothing could really shake what you had.

But that was before you started to doubt everything the two of you had.

Before the incident.

You were in the library that day, tucked away in a corner with your books spread out in front of you. Vada had class, and you were trying to focus on an assignment due the next day. It was just another ordinary afternoon, where everything felt routine and predictable.

Then, out of nowhere, you heard it—a loud, sharp sound that made you freeze.

At first, you couldn't quite place it, but then it happened again, and suddenly the room around you shifted.

The quiet murmur of students working turned into panicked whispers, and then, in what felt like seconds, chaos erupted.

Gunshots.

The next thing you knew, people were scrambling, and you were being pulled down to the floor by someone you didn't even know. Your heart was pounding so hard you thought it might burst. You could barely think, your mind racing with fear and confusion.

Meanwhile, Vada had been in the bathroom, just down the hall from where the first shots were fired. She wasn't alone—Mia, the popular girl everyone knew but no one really knew anything about, was there too.

When the first gunshot echoed through the halls, they both froze, their eyes wide with terror. Without a word, they rushed into the nearest stall together, instinctively pulling their feet up onto the toilet seat to stay hidden.

In the days that followed, everything felt like a blur.

The school was closed, news crews swarmed the area, and you were left trying to process what had happened. You tried to be there for Vada, but it was hard to know how.

She was different—quieter, more withdrawn, like she was lost in her own head. You wanted to help, to say something that would make it better, but nothing felt right. It was like a wall had gone up between you, and no matter what you did, you couldn't get through to her.

Vada barely talked about what happened in the bathroom with Mia.

When she did, her voice was flat, detached, like she was telling a story that had happened to someone else. She wouldn't look you in the eye, and that scared you more than anything.

You could see the fear and anger simmering under the surface, but she wouldn't let it out. She tried to act like everything was fine, but you could see the cracks forming.

You knew she was probably feeling a million things—guilt, fear, anger, maybe even shame for surviving when others hadn't. But she didn't talk about it, and you didn't know how to bring it up without making her shut down more.

Every time you reached out, it felt like she was slipping further away, retreating into a place you couldn't follow.

The carefree attitude that used to define her was gone, replaced by a tension that never seemed to leave. You noticed how she avoided certain hallways, how she liked to be alone now, and how she wouldn't talk about it. It was like she was trying to hold it all together, to not fall apart, but you could see how much it was costing her.

Vada didn't go back to school for a long time.

But eventually, you did go back due your parents forcing you. It wasn't easy, and you felt guilty every day.

The hallways felt different, quieter, like everyone was holding their breath. You went through the motions, trying to keep up with classes and pretending things were normal, but they weren't.

Not for you, and definitely not for Vada. It was hard walking into school every day, knowing she was at home, struggling with things you couldn't fully understand.

You tried to keep things normal, to talk about school, or movies, or anything that wasn't about what happened. But even then, you could feel the distance growing.

At first, the way Vada acted—or didn't act—around you didn't really matter. You understood she was going through something unimaginable.

You were patient, giving her the space she seemed to need, even when she seemed distant or didn't respond much.

What really caught you off guard wasn't the silence or the way she sometimes snapped at you, which you could understand given everything she was dealing with.

What hurt more was when Vada started disappearing.

You'd try to check in on her, but she was often unreachable, and you had this sinking feeling she wasn't just avoiding you—she was spending time with someone else.

You'd seen Mia post something on social media, little hints that made it clear Vada had been with her. It wasn't like you blamed her for needing someone who understood what she'd been through, but it stung all the same.

The fact that she was turning to Mia instead of you made the distance between you feel even wider, and that's when the doubt started to creep in. You knew she was hurting, but you couldn't help but wonder if this was the beginning of something you weren't prepared to face.

And as the days went on, Vada started staying out late, not telling you where she was or who she was with. The first time it happened, you tried not to worry too much, but it kept happening.

You wanted to talk to her, to see how she was really doing, but every time you tried, she seemed to slip further away.

Then, one night, you decided to go over to her house, hoping to finally have that conversation.

When she opened the door, you could immediately tell something was off. She was unsteady on her feet, her eyes a little glazed over, and you could smell the alcohol on her breath.

She was drunk, and it had shook you more than you expected. This wasn't like her at all.

You tried to ask her what was going on, why she was drinking, but she just brushed you off, slurring something about needing to forget for a while.

It worried you, seeing her like this, knowing that she was hurting so much that she felt the need to numb it with alcohol. You wanted to help her, to pull her back before she fell too deep, but she wasn't letting you in.

Even with everything going on, you held onto the hope that Vada wouldn't forget about your three-year anniversary. It was the one thing you thought might still matter, even with all the changes and distance between you.

Every year, you and Vada had always done something special to mark the day. It was your tradition—whether it was a simple picnic in the park or watching the stars from the roof of your house, it was always something that brought you closer together.

You thought that this anniversary might be a turning point, a chance for both of you to reconnect and maybe find some of what had been lost in the chaos.

You knew things weren't the same as before, but you hoped that this day would remind Vada of what you had, of how much you meant to each other.

You spent weeks planning something small but meaningful. Nothing too extravagant, just something that would show her you still cared deeply and that you wanted to make this work.

You spent weeks planning something small but meaningful. Nothing too extravagant, just something that would show her you still cared deeply and that you wanted to make this work.

You had arranged everything perfectly. After some careful planning, you talked to Vada's parents about your idea, suggesting that they and her little sister Amelia spend the night at Vada's grandmother's house.

You knew your own parents would never approve of the two of you having the house to yourselves on a school night, but Vada's parents were different.

They saw how much you meant to each other and, more importantly, how much Vada needed something to remind her of the good things in her life. They agreed without hesitation, eager to give you both the space you needed.

With the house to yourselves, you planned to cook dinner for her—nothing fancy, just her favorite comfort foods, something that would make her feel safe and loved.

You'd set the table in the dining room with candles, making it feel cozy and intimate.

After dinner, you were going to to watch the movie you saw on your first date. It was your way of trying to bring things back to the beginning, to remind her of who you both were before everything got so complicated.

You wanted the night to be perfect, not in some grand, over-the-top way, but in a way that would show Vada that you still believed in what you had together. This was your chance to reconnect, to pull her back from the distance that had grown between you, and you were determined to make it happen.

As the day got closer, you tried not to let your anxiety get the best of you. Vada had been distant, but you convinced yourself that she wouldn't let this day slip by.

This was your day, after all—the one day you could both take a break from everything else and just focus on each other. You were counting on it, needing it to bring you back together, at least for a little while.

The day finally came, and you had everything set up just the way you imagined.

You spent hours in the kitchen, carefully preparing all of Vada's favorite dishes. The table was set with candles, the lights dimmed just right to create that warm, intimate atmosphere. Everything was perfect, down to the last detail.

The whole thing was meant to be a surprise—you hadn't told Vada anything, just that she should come straight home after whatever she had planned for the day. You imagined her walking through the door, seeing the setup, and maybe, just maybe, something in her would shift back to how it used to be.

But as the minutes turned into hours, the excitement started to fade, replaced by a growing sense of worry.

Vada wasn't coming home.

You waited and waited, watching the food grow cold on the table. You tried calling her, messaging her, hoping for some kind of response, but there was nothing. Each time your phone stayed silent, your heart sank a little deeper.

You knew deep down that just waiting around probably wasn't the smartest idea. Maybe you should've told her, given her a heads-up so she could be sure to come home.

The hours passed and the house stayed empty, you couldn't ignore the sinking feeling in your chest. The night you'd planned so carefully, the night that was supposed to bring you closer, was slipping away, and with it, the hope you'd been clinging to.

You kept glancing at the clock, the numbers glowing dimly in the quiet room. It was nearly 11, and you were clinging to the hope that she'd come through the door any minute.

If she did, you'd just reheat the food, relight the candles, and try to salvage the night. It wasn't ideal, but you were ready to make the best of it.

Then, the front door creaked open, and Vada walked in. You jumped up immediately, eager to greet her.

When she saw you, her expression was a mix of surprise and something else you couldn't quite place. She looked at you weirdly, as if you were weird for being there.

She seemed off—her steps were unsteady, and there was a distant look in her eyes that made you worry.

"What... What are you doing here, Y/N?" she mumbled, her voice slurring slightly. She seemed distant, making you worry even more.

You tried to smile, but it felt stiff and uncertain. "Today's our three-year anniversary," you said, your voice filled with hesitation. "I was hoping we could spend some time together. You know, like we always do."

Vada let out a scoff and began to walk toward her room, her steps slow and uneven. She glanced at you with a weariness in her eyes, as if the effort to respond was too much. Her shoulders were slightly hunched, and she seemed to be struggling to focus on you.

"Do we really still care about this?"

It hit you harder than you expected. You tried to hold onto your initial excitement and positivity, but her tone made it hard to ignore the distance growing between you.

As she took those two steps toward her room, you felt a mix of disappointment and confusion, unsure how to reach out or fix what seemed to be slipping away.

Vada walked closer, and you could smell the strong scent of alcohol on her breath.

As she moved into the light, you noticed her eyes were red and puffy, and it was hard to tell if it was from crying or something else.

You hoped it was tears—something you could understand and help with. The thought of it being anything worse made your heart sink. You stood there, struggling to reconcile the image of her pain with the reality of what was happening.

You took a hesitant step forward and asked, "Are you drunk?"

Vada's face reddened with anger. "Are you seriously judging me right now?" she snapped.

You were taken aback by her reaction, and a wave of nervousness washed over you.

The fact that she was drunk only seemed to make everything worse.

You swallowed hard, trying to keep your voice steady, said, "No, I was just wondering where you've been. Have you been drinking alone?" Your words trailed off, unsure how to continue as you watched her closely, hoping she'd open up.

Vada's anger seemed to wane as she noticed your genuine concern. "I was with Mia," she said simply, her voice a bit softer.

You hesitated for a moment before asking, "Have you done drugs?"

Vada's face flushed with anger as she spun around, muttering, "Oh my god." She shot you a fierce look, clearly irritated.

You quickly followed her, trying to explain yourself. "I was just worried because you've been spending a lot of time with Mia, and I was just wondering what you two were up to. I didn't mean to... I just wanted to know." You felt yourself rambling, hoping she'd understand your concern.

You took a deep breath, trying to keep your emotions in check. "I just need to know if there's something more going on between you and Mia."

You knew the question was direct and might come off as rude, but you were desperate to understand what was happening.

You needed to know if this was the end for you both, if there was something significant you were missing.

Vada's eyes widened in surprise, her face flushing with a mix of anger and guilt. For a moment, she looked taken aback, as if the question had cut through a fog of confusion. Her response was immediate but hesitant,

"What are you talking about? There's nothing between us." But her tone betrayed a hint of uncertainty, leaving you more unsettled than before.

Your curiosity was driven by the fear that everything you had might be unraveling, and you were grasping at any answers that could provide clarity.

You were grasping for understanding, your voice trembling. "I don't know. It feels like you've just—"

Vada cut you off, voice loud enough to make you flinch. "Why do you always have to question everything?" she slurred, her speech thick and unsteady. "Just because we're dating doesn't mean you need to know everything I'm doing or feeling! I'm so fucking tired of you prying into every little thing!"

Her movements were uncoordinated; she stumbled slightly as she spoke, her balance wavering.

The alcohol and possibly drugs made her seem disconnected, her eyes glassy and unfocused. She swayed slightly as she continued, her anger barely masking the haze of her intoxication.

You struggled to keep calm, knowing her anger was intensified by the substances she'd consumed. "I didn't mean to pry," you said, your voice trembling. "I just wanted to understand what's happening with us."

Vada glared at you, her frustration still evident. "What, do you expect me to lay out every detail of my life for you?" she snapped, her voice laced with bitterness.

"Do you want me to explain my feelings all the time, like it's some kind of control?"

You shook your head, your voice trembling as you quietly replied, "No, that's not what I meant." Her words and actions seemed disjointed from what you were trying to address. Vada's gaze remained fixed on you, her anger unyielding and her eyes burning with frustration.

Her words and actions seemed disjointed from what you were trying to address.

You had only been seeking clarity about your relationship, not demanding control or constant explanations. Her response felt out of touch with your intentions, leaving you confused and hurt as you tried to make sense of her accusations.

You took a deep breath, your heart pounding in your chest, and asked, "What did you guys do?"

You didn't expect anything shocking or out of the ordinary. You just hoped she'd tell you they hung out, talked, maybe drank a little—nothing more.

You weren't trying to accuse her of anything; you just wanted to make sure they hadn't done something reckless or dangerous.

The thought of her putting herself in a risky situation was what really worried you.

That's why you asked—to ease the growing unease in your chest, to hear something that would put your mind at rest, and to reassure yourself that everything was still okay.

Vada's eyes flashed with irritation as she responded, "Nothing."

Her tone was dismissive, but you couldn't ignore the gnawing doubt inside you. You glanced at the clock on the wall, noting the time. "Vada, it's almost 11 a.m. You've been with her all night. Of course, you did something."

The air was thick with tension, almost suffocating. Vada's posture stiffened, her shoulders tensing as she tried to process your words. You could see her face flush, her mind clearly racing as she grappled with the confrontation.

She had always hated these kinds of direct confrontations, and it was evident she was struggling to come up with a believable excuse.

For a moment, there was a charged silence. You watched as Vada's gaze darted around, her eyes betraying her panic.

She opened her mouth, closed it, and then opened it again, her face a mixture of frustration and fear as she searched for a way to deflect or minimize the situation.

Her hands fidgeted at her sides, clenching and unclenching in a futile attempt to steady herself.

The silence dragged on, and you could almost see her internal struggle as she failed to come up with a satisfactory answer.

Her frustration began to bubble over, and her composure started to crack under the pressure. Finally, with a sharp intake of breath, she snapped.

"Fuck it," she burst out, her voice trembling with a mix of anger and desperation.

"I smoked weed with Mia, got high and I slept with her, alright? Is that what you'd like to hear?"

Her admission was blunt and raw, a revelation that she hadn't intended to make but couldn't hold back any longer. The anger in her eyes and the way her voice wavered revealed the depth of her frustration and the extent of her emotional turmoil.

Her voice was sharp, cutting through the air like a knife.

Her confession hit you like a punch to the gut. The words hung in the air, heavy and unyielding, and you could feel the room closing in around you.

The shock made it hard to breathe. You tried to stay calm but struggled to process what she'd just admitted. "You slept with her?" you repeated quietly, your voice trembling.

For a split second, you saw a flash of regret in Vada's eyes, as if she realized the weight of what she'd said.

Although that look quickly faded, replaced by her defensive stance.

The moment of vulnerability was brief, almost as if she was trying to erase it before you could fully grasp it. You were left reeling, trying to make sense of her sudden, raw honesty and what it meant for both of you.

Did she actually sleep with her? Or did she just say it out of anger or because she was under influence?

Mia had always been someone you thought was a friend to Vada, someone who was there for her in ways you couldn't be after everything that happened.

You never saw her as a threat, never imagined that Vada's connection with her could be something more than just two people sharing their trauma.

But after every late night that Vada seemed to spend with her,  the doubt had tightened its grip.

You thought you had tried so hard to be there for Vada, to break through the walls she had built up, but now it felt like those walls were never meant to let you in. They were meant to keep you out, while Mia was welcomed in.

The realization that Mia, the girl Vada used to mock for her obsession with popularity and appearances, could have become something more to her, stung.

Vada had always rolled her eyes at the way Mia cared about what people thought, about how she looked. It was something that made you believe Vada and Mia could never be more than friends.

But now, you couldn't help but wonder if all that bashing was just a cover, a way to hide the truth even from herself.

Had Vada's complaints been a way to deflect from feelings she didn't want to admit?

You could feel the tears welling up, your lips trembling uncontrollably. You didn't try to hide it, but it felt irrelevant since Vada seemed to look right through you.

Her gaze was unfocused, her pupils dilated, wide and glassy, as if she was barely seeing you. Her mouth was twisted into a slight, almost mocking smile that made your heart sink even further.

You hoped and prayed that she didn't actually found this funny.

You tried to convince yourself that she would regret this later, that she'd understand the pain she was causing, and that the real Vada—without the haze of alcohol and anger—would recognize how deeply she had hurt you.

But not even your hopes seemed to be on your side as Vada let out a heavy sigh, the anger seeming to drain from her as she suddenly looked exhausted.

"I'm going to bed," she mumbled, her voice still slurred, but now quieter, almost as if the fight had taken all the energy she had left.

She turned on her heel, swaying slightly as she started to walk away.

But then she paused, her hand gripping the edge of the wall for balance, and looked back at you with a cold, detached expression.

"And clean this shit up before my parents get home," she snapped, her voice filled with disgust as she gestured vaguely at the table where the dinner you had so carefully prepared now sat untouched, cold.

"It looks fucking ridiculous." She spat out, her words like shards of glass cutting through you.

You bit your lip hard enough to draw blood, feeling the sting as you glanced back at the table.

Her words echoed in your mind, and as you looked at the half-heartedly arranged candles and the untouched dinner, you had to admit—maybe she was right.

It did look ridiculous.

Without waiting for a response, Vada turned away, her frustration palpable as she stormed off toward her room. The silence that followed was heavy, the flickering candles casting long shadows that seemed to mock the effort you had put in.

You stood there, feeling like a stranger in a house you had once felt so welcomed in, like an outsider in a place you had imagined as your second home.

As you cleaned up like she told you to, the weight of what had just transpired settled heavily on your shoulders.

You packed the leftover food into containers, trying to salvage what you could for Vada's parents. Each movement felt mechanical, your hands moving on autopilot while your mind was consumed by a torrent of thoughts.

You sobbed quietly, tears falling onto the remnants of a dinner that was meant to celebrate love and commitment, that was meant to fix what you guys had.

It wasn't a formal breakup, but the reality was clear.

Vada's behavior, whether from being drunk or high, had made it clear that things between you were over, even if no formal words had been spoken.

There was so much left unsaid, so many questions swirling in your mind.

Although as you walked out the door of the Cavell house, you knew the answers no longer mattered.

[7s3ven]

ONE THING LEADS TO ANOTHER, pt 1. neteyam x fem! metkayina! r

IN WHICH… Y/N and Neteyam’s walls suddenly come crashing down one night after a heart to heart conversation.

( requested )

Notes: mentions of sex (not written out, though), throwing up (morning/pregnancy sickness), small panic attack, a little angst, fluff ending, neteyam + reader are like 19 ig, teen pregnancy?

—

Neteyam was thankful for the Metkayina allowing his family into their home but he missed his own. He missed the trees and the forest and his friends. The forest was all he had known. He was supposed to be the next clan leader, it was a job he had been preparing for since his birth. But it was all ripped away from him when he and his family were forced to leave. Now, he had nothing. No status, no promises of greatness, and almost no friends. Lo’ak didn’t count because he had to see his idiotic brother every day.

The night was quiet and cool as Neteyam slowly stepped over Lo’ak, who was sound asleep on the floor of the hut. Neteyam rolled his eyes at his brother, who was always sleeping in odd places.

He had been sneaking out regularly, trying to get away from his crushing responsibilities. Neteyam always sat in the same spot on the beach yet when he arrived, he found it was already taken. He recognised the Metkayina girl as Y/N, Tsireya and Aonung’s older sister and the future Tsahik. Kiri was better friends with her than Neteyam was. Nevertheless, he slowly walked up behind her.

“Out here all alone?” He questioned, crouching down. Their shoulders brushed as Y/N turned her head to glance at him. Her narrowed eyes softened at the sight of him.

“Oh, it is only you.” She murmured.

“Sorry. Did I startle you?”

Neteyam heard Y/N quietly laugh. “A little. What are you doing out so late?” She tilted her head, looking up at Neteyam. He sat down, shrugging.

“No reason.” He replied, “I just needed some peace and quiet.”

Y/N nodded in understanding. “I am doing the same. As mean as it might sound, I had to get away from my family for a little bit. Aonung’s snores are always so loud too.”

A small smirk crept across Neteyam’s lips. “You should hear Lo’ak. Sometimes, he’s snores so loud that it wakes my dad up.”

“How is your family settling in, Neteyam?” Y/N inquired, leaning back to stare up at the starry sky. Neteyam held back a sigh.

“We are trying our best.” He uttered, “But it is not easy. We are used to trees… not sand and water.”

Y/N hummed. “Do you miss the forest?” She mentally scolded herself for asking such a question. Of course he did. He would not be talking about it if he did not.

“Yes. And as much as I try to enjoy all this, I will always prefer the forest.” Neteyam abruptly shook his head to rid himself of such thoughts. “But I cannot complain. We are lucky to be here.”

Y/N looked Neteyam up and down, observing his body language. Slowly, she reached out a hand, placing it on Neteyam’s. “You can complain to me.” She gently told him. “I will not judge. I will only listen.”

It seemed Neteyam had been waiting for this exact words. He launched into describing his home with a smile on his face. He told Y/N of the banshees, the mountains, and the trees that stretched across the land for endless miles. It all sounded very foreign yet fascinating to Y/N.

“My parents would not want me to complain. Lo’ak, Kiri, and Tuk are allowed to miss the forest but not me.” Neteyam fidgeting with his fingers, a constant reminder that he would never be viewed as true Na’vi.

“Do they expect you to be perfect?” Y/N spoke up, her voice a soft whisper over the sound of the waves crashing against the sandy shore. Silently, Neteyam nodded.

“I am the golden child. I should not be saying such nonsense… but I miss my old life. Here, I get in trouble for every little thing Lo’ak does. I know as the oldest sibling, it is my job to look out for them, but it is growing tiresome.” Neteyam looked at Y/N, who was listening intensively, “Do you ever feel that way… about your siblings?”

“Yes. Aonung is always getting into mischief and I am given the job of picking up his slack. I am the future Tsahik yet with all the scolding I receive from my parents because of Aonung, it makes me feel like a failure.” Y/N aimlessly picked at the small shells nestled in the grains of sand as she spoke. “I love Tsireya and Aonung… but I cannot always be there to protect them. And that scares me.”

Neteyam nodded. He was closer now, barely an inch away from Y/N. She would have pushed him away if he was any other boy. But it was Neteyam, sweet Neteyam who was trying his best to gain his father’s approval and protect his family. She made no move to shove him.

“I feel that something terrible is approaching… and I am scared that I can no longer shield my siblings.” Y/N kept speaking as Neteyam drew soft circles in the palm of her hand to comfort her.

“I understand.” He muttered, locking gazes with Y/N. They held eye contact and for the first time in years, Y/N felt truly seen.

The feeling of finally being understood without judgement clouded Y/N’s mind as her back hit the soft sand and she returned Neteyam’s kiss.

The days after their sudden incident were a jumbled blur. Y/N had been feeling moody as of lately and it all made sense when she threw up the food she had eaten just minutes ago. Y/N shook as she wrapped her arms around herself in disbelief.

She was frozen in fear, barely able to register that Tsireya was calling out her name. “Y/N! I’ve been looking for you. Would you like to swim with Aonung and I and the Sully kids?” Tsireya brightly beamed, having no idea of the panic plaguing Y/N’s thoughts.

“I am alright, Tsireya. Thank you for offering. I do not feel good.” Y/N willed Tsireya to disappear so that she could figure out her situation.

“Oh… of course. I will tell Neteyam you cannot make it. I hope you feel better soon, sister.”

The mention of Neteyam’s name almost made Y/N spin around and throw up again. It was partly his fault she had gotten into this mess. Why did he have to be so kind and understanding?

Y/N quietly groaned in frustration as Tsireya walked away. She lay on her back, staring up at the brightly lit sky. Her thoughts weren’t giving her a break to think clearly. Obviously, she could not confide in her parents. She would not be surprised if they threatened to throw her out. Tsireya could not keep a secret for long and Aonung… well, Y/N would never willingly tell him. He would use every chance he got to remind her.

And Y/N dreaded telling Neteyam. He was already having a hard time fitting in, he did not need the trouble of this either. If word of this spread, his family would be outcasted even more than they were already.

She aimlessly wandered the beach, thinking to herself. The pressure of gaining her parents’ approval was becoming all too much.

As expected, Neteyam and Y/N avoided each other. Neteyam thought it was best to leave her alone and give her space to think, which was something he desperately needed as well.

Y/N was feeding her ilu when Tsireya and Aonung approached her. “Sister.” The latter uttered, folding his arms over his chest, “We need to talk.”

Y/N merely sent him a confused glance. “About what?” She questioned.

“Why are you avoiding us?” Tsireya got straight to the point. She huffed. “You never want to swim with us… and you are hardly around. You do not even eat with us. Why?”

Y/N looked away, petting her ilu. “I am busy.” She lied through her teeth. “Mother is encouraging me to oversee the affairs of the village and it is more tiresome than I expected.”

Tsireya faltered, suddenly feeling bad for accusing her older sister. Aonung, on the other hand, was not so easily fooled. He had always been annoyingly good at reading people. But neither of Y/N’s siblings asked any more questions. They simply accepted her answer and left her to tend to her ilu.

A few quiet minutes passed before the wood beneath Y/N creaked. She looked over her shoulder, almost jumping at the sight of Neteyam.

“Sorry.” He muttered. “Just came to check up on my ilu. She’s been more hungry lately.” He sent her a sheepish smile, hurrying over to the creature. Y/N tried not to pay him any attention as she kicked her legs in the water, the cool droplets splashing against her body.

“So… how are you?” Neteyam spoke up. There was an awkward pause. It took Y/N a moment to register his words.

“I am good.” She responded. Neteyam took her short answer as an attempt to ice him out, which he did not blame her for. In reality, though, Y/N was trying to stop herself from exposing her secret. She knew if she kept talking to Neteyam, then his sweet voice would coerce her into revealing everything.

“Right… I’ll see you later, I guess.” Neteyam walked off, rubbing the back of his neck. Y/N tried not to show her hurt at how quickly he left, seeming like he wanted nothing to do with her.

Her ilu nudged its head against Y/N’s thigh, cooing. Y/N sighed as she pet it once more. “What am I going to do?” She murmured. Time was running out and she still had no idea what she was going to do.

She clasped her hands over her belly, sighing as she lowered her head. She rarely ate with her family now, doing everything she could to avoid them. Her siblings and even her parents were bound to become more suspicious; Tsireya was already questioning it and Aonung did not believe any of her lies.

Y/N was a strong girl, both physically and mentally, but she could not handle this. Having to keep such a large secret from her parents and her siblings, whom were her world, and Neteyam was eating at her.

Her attempts to distance the eldest Sully boy from her were becoming harder but the secret could not be revealed. She knew Neteyam would ultimately talk. It was up to her to ensure his family would not be isolated any further.

Y/N’s heartbeat spiked and despite her underwater training, she could not slow it. She placed a hand over her chest, gasping for air. “Shit.” She murmured out a word she had heard Neteyam say, which only sent her further into a spiral.

It was becoming increasingly harder to clear her mind and she suddenly felt uncomfortable in her own skin. Her thoughts exploded into a flurry of negativity.

Her father would be so disappointed in her careless behaviour. And her mother… Y/N almost threw up at the mere thought of Ronal’s look. She would be livid that her perfect daughter, her daughter who consistently kept Aonung out of trouble, her daughter who was the future Tsahik, had engaged in such acts with a forest boy.

She clawed at her skin, trying to rid herself of such thoughts that caused more harm than good. Y/N leaned forward to comfort herself but she ended up diving right into the water purely by mistake. She thought of just staying under the glistening water. It brought her comfort. There was no one talking to her while she was on the verge of a breakdown. It was peaceful.

A hand suddenly grabbed onto her forearm, heaving her up. Y/N spat out a mouthful of water, coughing in surprise. “Aonung!” She exclaimed, slapping her brother’s shoulder. Though, it probably did not hurt him as much as she wanted it to. Aonung was a few months younger than Y/N but had much more muscles.

“Why are you lying in the water?” Aonung questioned as he pulled her back onto the dock. “It is not like you to be so distant. What is the matter?”

To others, particularly the Sully boys, Aonung was mean and a bully and an outright nuisance to be around. But to Y/N, he was sweet. He was Y/N’s sweet little brother who used to come crying to her when he scraped his knee.

“It is none of your concern. I am fine. I am simply stressed.” Y/N reassured him. Unfortunately, her soft words did not have the impact they had on Tsireya.

Aonung narrowed his eyes like he always did when he could tell Y/N was lying. “You are not telling the truth. You can tell me. I will not tell mother or father or even Tsireya. It will be our little secret.”

Y/N stared at her brother then at her shaking hands which had not stopped trembling since she found out she was pregnant. “I am with a child.” She suddenly blurted out.”

Aonung was silent. He opened his mouth to say something but the pair heard a gasp behind them. Y/N quickly looked behind her, partly relieved that it was only Tsireya. She had been holding a bowl of fruits, which were now rolling around in the floor.

“I am sorry.” She immediately apologised, covering her mouth with her hands. “I did not mean to eavesdrop. I just wanted to bring you some fruit so you would feel better.” She quickly crouched down to pick everything up. “Is it true… are you really?”

Tsireya sat on the other side of Y/N. Aonung swiftly reached over, grasping a piece of fruit despite Y/N’s look. She had always told him not to eat anything from the floor.

“Yes.” She hesitated.

“Damn, who knocked you up?” Aonung carelessly asked. Tsireya clicked his tongue, her long tail slapping him.

“Do not, Aonung.” She warned. “We will not tell anyone, Y/N. Do not pressure yourself into telling us the dad. We will let you take your time.”

“It’s Neteyam.” Y/N blurted out. She could not contain it anymore. Beside her, she heard Aonung choke. Y/N promptly slapped his back.

“Neteyam?!” Aonung exclaimed but Tsireya and Y/N both hushed him. “Mother and Father will not be happy.”

Y/N sent him a glare, “I am aware.” She muttered.

“Wait, this is good. This will top anything else I do. Father will be like, ‘Aonung, why did you slap Lo’ak?’ And then I’ll just reply with ‘well, remember when Y/N got pregnant?’” Aonung faced his sisters only to be met with their unimpressed faces.

“Aonung, take this seriously.” Tsireya hissed, resting her hands on Y/N’s shoulders. “Whatever you do, Y/N, we will be here to support you.”

Neteyam was not doing any better. The last few days had felt like a constant test on his patience. His father was always ordering him around and Lo’ak was getting on his nerve.

The last straw was when Jake had decided to scold Neteyam for Lo’ak’s actions. Neteyam had returned from the docks, still wondering as to why Y/N was suddenly acting so cold. He tried to forget that night, to move past it, but it was easier said than done. Y/N seemed to be everywhere Neteyam was.

The oldest Sully boy walked into their hut, exhausted and fully prepared to collapse. However, when he saw Jake standing in front of Lo’ak, his father’s arms crossed sternly over his chest, Neteyam almost groaned. Neytiri and Kiri were inside as well, exchanging worried glances. Tuk was nowhere to be seen, most likely playing with her newfound friends.

“Neteyam.” Jake said. Neteyam dragged himself to stand beside Lo’ak, his back straightening.

“Yes, sir?” Neteyam murmured, wanting to get this over and done with so he could tend to his own thoughts.

“Your brother got into another fight today.” Jake uttered. “Where were you? You’re supposed to keep an eye on him.”

“I was busy, sir.”

“Why weren’t you with your brother? Sully’s have to stick together.“

Neteyam, who had been trying to hold down his bubbling anger, suddenly snapped. “I wasn’t with my brother because it’s not my job to keep him in check.” It was the first time Neteyam had ever talked back. His ears flattened down, an action he didn’t usually do but had started doing because of Y/N. “What Lo’ak does with his spare time should be none of my concern. It is not my fault he fights every day.”

“Yeah, but you’re the older brother. It’s your responsibility to look out for him.” Jake poked Neteyam’s chest, causing everything to come crashing down. Neteyam, who had been trying so hard to hide his fury at how unfairly he was being treated, broke.

“It is none of my responsibility! I can’t be everywhere with Lo’ak, babysitting him! You forced me away from my home, from the forest in which I grow up in. I know nothing here! I am simply too busy trying to fit in to watch over Lo’ak! He is not the only one who needs comfort. I am still a teenager! Have you ever asked how I feel?!” Neteyam didn’t waste a heartbeat in spinning around, storming off. His swishing tail hit a bowl, causing it to fall. It did not break but Neteyam wouldn’t have cared anyway.

Neteyam left his parents and his siblings in shock at his outburst. He always took the blame for Lo’ak, what had changed?

Kiri quickly followed after Neteyam. Lo’ak, with a small nod from Jake, followed.

“Ma Jake,” Neytiri reached out for her mate, “What is wrong with Neteyam? He has been acting strange lately.” Jake held her hand, staring at the spot where Neteyam had been standing moments ago.

Jake wasn’t stupid. He saw how Neteyam’s gaze always found its way to stare at the Chief’s oldest daughter. He had been 16 once upon a time; it did not take long for Jake to form a suspicion.

“Neteyam!” Kiri grabbed her brother’s wrist, forcing him to turn around. “What is the matter with you? You have been acting so moody lately.” She pouted.

“Nothing!” Neteyam harshly insisted. “I am not acting moody.” Lo’ak caught up with his older brother but remained silent, knowing Neteyam’s anger was a result of his recklessness.

“My idiot brother, why must you be so stubborn?” Kiri groaned, “You are like Y/N sometimes, so hardheaded and annoyingly independent.”

Her name set Neteyam’s face alight. A dark blush spread across his cheeks. “She is the problem.” He finally admitted. “Y/N is.”

“Did she reject you or something?” Lo’ak voiced, arching an eyebrow.

Neteyam wished she did. This situation would have been much easier. “No… Y/N and I, we…” Neteyam trailed off, suddenly embarrassed.

Kiri got the hint. She slapped his shoulder. “You did not!” She hissed. “She is the Chief’s daughter!” Lo’ak stood beside Kiri, ever so clueless.

“What? What did they do? He didn’t even finish his sentence. You guys are acting like they”- Lo’ak paused, “Oh. I get it now.”

“It was an impulsive decision.” Neteyam uttered as he resumed walking.

“One that will get you killed.” Kiri added. “You are lucky she is not betrothed yet. Have you talked to her?”

“Briefly. She does not wish to speak to me.” Neteyam was met with another slap from Kiri.

“Idiot! She must be lonely. You must speak to her so that you can resolve this!”

Neteyam groaned, walking faster in hopes his siblings would leave him alone. “She avoids me.” He said to Kiri. “I told you, she doesn’t want to see me.”

“Then try harder to talk to her! Y/N is as stubborn as you. Do you not see the pattern?!” Kiri yanked Neteyam back, “You must tell Father and Mother.”

Neteyam scoffed. “I have caused enough trouble already. I will do no such thing.”

“You are foolish. If Tonowari and Ronal find out, Father will be able to calm them. If you do not tell, then at least speak to Y/N.”

Neteyam exasperatedly sighed. “Fine. I will talk to her. Happy?” He wandered off, leaving Kiri and Lo’ak behind. He knew where to find Y/N. During her spare time, she was always at the docks, playing with her ilu or swimming.

“Do you not ever move from this spot?” Neteyam spoke as he halted behind Y/N, who was sitting where he suspected. He saw her back tense up.

“No. I have moved. To eat. I came back.” Y/N was careful with her responses. One stumble and she’d end up spilling everything.

“Kiri says I should talk to you.” Neteyam muttered as he sat beside her, dipping his feet into the water. Y/N turned to face him, staring with wide eyes.

“You told Kiri?”

“And Lo’ak.” Neteyam’s reply did not ease her panic. “But I suspect you told Tsireya and Aonung.”

Y/N nodded. “I cannot hide anything from them for long.” In truth, Y/N had returned to the docks to mentally prepare herself for telling her mother. She could hide the sudden pregnancy but her body could not. It would start to show.

“How are you feeling?” Neteyam questioned.

“Stupid.”

Neteyam lowly chuckled, staring down at his hands. “Kiri is advising me to tell Mother and Father. But I do not want to do it without your permission.” Y/N almost melted at how sweet and considerate Neteyam was.

“I do not mind.” She muttered, “As long as they do not spread the word.” It was not Neteyam who would get the harsher punishment anyway. As the daughter of the clan leaders, Y/N had a standard to uphold. She had failed after managing to balance it for so long.

After a much needed talk, Neteyam and Y/N parted ways. The latter slowly walked into the medical hut where she found her mother grinding leaves. “Mother.” Y/N said, hands clasped in front of her. Ronal hummed, too busy with her task at hand. “I have something rather important to tell you.”

“What is it, child? Could it not wait until after dinner?”

“I am pregnant.” Y/N quickly said, half heartedly hoping she had spoken too fast for her mother to understand her. Ronal paused. The leaves she had been holding previously fluttered the floor.

“You are pregnant… by who?” Ronal was trying to keep calm.

Y/N hesitated for a moment, her head lowered. “Neteyam.” She whispered.

Ronal hissed in anger. “You allowed this?! When he is not your mate?!”

“I did not mean to, mother.” Y/N insisted, stepping forward.

Ronal thought for a second. “We must find you a mate.” She announced after what felt like an hour.

“But what about Neteyam?” Y/N frowned, “He is the father! Does he not deserve to know?”

“He is not Metkayina.” Ronal almost sneered, “If word of this gets out, it will create a scandal. Your father and I will find you a suitable mate.” Her mother turned to walk away but Y/N desperately grabbed onto her arm.

“No… please… mother, do not make me do this! I want him to be the father! I do not want any other idiotic boy!”

Ronal softly caressed Y/N’s face as small tears dripped down her cheeks. She finally allowed herself to cry after holding everything in. “I am sorry, my child, but it is for the best.”

Y/N abruptly straightened her back. “No.” She firmly refused, surprising Ronal. “I have been the perfect daughter for you and Father. Do I not receive a reward in return?”

“You have a baby without a mate. I could hardly call that a reward.”

“Why will you not allow me to decide? You say it is for the best but do you really want to live the rest of your life knowing I am miserable? Will you put me through that just to keep your reputation? Is your reputation among the clan more important than your own daughter’s happiness?!” Y/N had not inherited Tsireya’s gentleness nor Aonung’s ego. She had inherited her mother’s temper.

“Listen to me, child, they will leave sooner or later. They will not stay here, no matter how much Neteyam will claim he loves you.”

“Then I will pay the price. Let me do this, mother. I have already suffered enough. I cannot do it again.”

Ronal narrowed her eyes. “Come.” She beckoned her daughter out of the hut. Y/N did not ask where Ronal was leading her; she simply followed behind.

Ronal’s sudden appearance in the Sully Family’s hut caused them to quiet down. Neteyam shared a look with Y/N, confused.

“It seems my daughter has found herself… involved with your eldest son.” Ronal spoke, sending Y/N a subtle glare. Y/N chewed the inside of her cheek. “This is not the Metkayina way but unfortunately, she is pregnant.”

Chaos broke out. Jake spat out a mouthful of water while Neytiri coughed to hide the fact that she had almost choked in shock. Lo’ak muffled his loud laughs as a look of horror crossed Neteyam’s face. Kiri quietly clicked her tongue, staring at her eldest brother.

“For some unknown reason, my daughter wishes for Neteyam to be the father. I will allow this if your son proves to me that he will be able to provide for Y/N. She is the future Tsahik and I will allow only the best for her. That is all.” Ronal walked away, expecting Y/N to follow.

“You knocked up the Chief’s daughter?” Jake said as soon as the two Metkayina women were gone. Lo’ak could finally freely laugh while Neteyam shoved him.

“Shut up.” He muttered, standing to run after Y/N.

[natsaffection]

LITERALLY COMING HERE BECAUSE I SOMEHOW COOKED UP AN IDEA?????

Small request that Nat is bestfriends with y/n’s dad. Like a litttleee age gap, like y/n is 21 and Nat is older in her 30’s or early 40’s (practically leaving it up to you) but readers dad is still protective and had to leave the house due to a relative getting sick. Asking Nat to come watch over y/n, yet the two of them dance around each other with harmless teasing and flirting but they both know that they’re attracted to each other but fear that it isn’t right. Gives Nat a PERFECT opportunity to love y/n like she always wanted to.

could be g!p Nat if you want, leaving that up to you too but like I’ve BEEN feasting on your smut recently

Never say Never. | N.R

Warnings: 18+! MINORS DNI!, Age Gap! (N=41 | r= 21), G!P Nat, sniffling on Pantys, fingering, Loss of virginity, unprotected Sex, soft to rough sex, hot talking trough, begging and overstimulation

Word count: 6,8k

A/n: Well..A small request quickly became Six thousand words. I added another request, so it's actually two..Hope you two Anons dont mind! But otherwise I wouldn't follow, there are eight more waiting for me.🫶🏼 🧎🏻‍♀️

You sat on the couch, half-heartedly listening to the conversation while scrolling through your phone, pretending not to notice your father’s growing tension. He had been on edge since the call from his sister, who lived a few hours away. A sudden illness had thrown the family into turmoil, and now he was preparing to leave on short notice.

"I know, I know.." he said into the phone, his voice tinged with worry. "But I can’t just leave her here alone." You playfully rolled your eyes. "Dad, I’m 21. I think I can manage a few days on my own."

Your father shot you a look that was half serious, half affectionate. "I know you can take care of yourself, but I’d feel better if someone was here to keep an eye on you. You know how much I worry."

Before you could continue arguing, he returned to his call, his voice softening as he spoke. "Natasha, are you sure? It’s very last-minute."

Your ears perked up at the mention of Natasha’s name. She had been your father’s best friend for years. They met in the military and had remained close ever since. You had always admired Natasha’s strength and confidence, not to mention her striking looks. She was older, yes, but that only made her more appealing in your eyes. Not that you would ever admit that out loud, especially not to her.

But the thought of Natasha staying with you while your father was away sent a wave of excitement through you, one you quickly tried to suppress. Natasha was practically like family, and besides, it was impossible that someone like her could ever see you as more than her best friend’s daughter.

"Yeah, she’s home," your father said now. "if you could come over, that would be great. I’d feel a lot better if you were here." Your heart skipped a beat. Tonight. Natasha was coming over tonight. Oh god..

After a few more words, your father ended the call and turned to you with a small smile. "Natasha’s on her way. She’ll be here soon, and I’ll head out once she arrives." You nodded, trying to keep your expression neutral. "That’s fine, Dad. But honestly, you didn’t have to worry so much." Your father laughed and ruffled your hair as he walked by. "I can’t help it. It’s my job."

As the minutes passed, you grew increasingly restless. You weren’t exactly sure why the thought of Natasha coming over made you so nervous. You’d spent time with her before, but this time was different, being alone with her in the house, especially now that you were old enough to understand the fluttering feelings that her presence stirred in you.

When the doorbell finally rang, your pulse quickened. Your father opened the door and greeted Natasha warmly as she stepped inside. You stayed in the background, taking her in. Natasha was dressed casually, but even in a simple leather jacket, she exuded confidence and grace, her green eyes sparkled with a mix of amusement and something else you couldn’t quite place.

"Hey." Natasha greeted you in her soft voice, smiling. There was something in the way she looked at you that made your stomach do a little flip. But you quickly pushed it aside, reminding yourself that Natasha was just being friendly.

"Hi." you replied, trying to keep your voice steady. "Thanks for coming over."

"No problem." Natasha said, her gaze lingering on you a moment longer than necessary before she turned to your father. "I’ve got everything under control here. You can go take care of your sister." Your father nodded, relieved. "Thanks, Nat. I owe you one."

After a few more words of reassurance, your father grabbed his bags and headed out, leaving the house in an eerie silence. You stood uncertainly in the living room, not sure what to say now that it was just the two of you.

Natasha was the first to break the silence. "So, what’s the plan for tonight?" she began, her tone light but with a teasing undertone. "Are we going to throw a wild party, or are you more of a Netflix and chill type?"

You laughed, some of the tension easing. "Definitely Netflix and chill. But you get to pick the movie." Natasha raised an eyebrow, a playful smile tugging at her lips. "Dangerous move, letting me choose. I have very specific tastes."

There it was again..that teasing, almost flirtatious tone that made your heart beat faster. You couldn’t tell if Natasha was just playing with you or if there was more behind those words. But either way, you found yourself firing back "I can handle it." you said with a grin. "Bring it on."

As you both settled on the couch, you couldn’t help but sneak glances at Natasha. You knew you shouldn’t let your thoughts wander, but it was hard not to when she was sitting so close, her body warm and inviting. And it didn’t help that she occasionally, whether accidentally or on purpose, brushed against you, sending a shiver down your spine each time.

As the movie started, you tried to focus on the screen, but your thoughts kept drifting back to the woman next to you. Natasha had, of course, chosen an action film, but you found it hard to follow the plot when every little movement Natasha made seemed amplified in the quiet room.

Natasha, on the other hand, was having similar difficulties. She could feel your presence beside her, so close that your legs almost touched. Occasionally, you would shift, briefly brushing against her, and Natasha had to fight to keep her attention on the movie. She knew she shouldn’t think about you this way, not when she was supposed to be the responsible adult here, but it was difficult to push those thoughts away and this was dangerous territory, Natasha knew that.

"So, is this your favorite type of movie?" you asked suddenly, breaking the silence. Your tone was half teasing, but there was also a hint of genuine curiosity in your voice. Natasha turned to you, a slight smile playing on her lips. "What can I say? I like things that get the adrenaline pumping."

You raised an eyebrow, catching the double meaning in Natasha’s words. "Is that so?" you replied, your tone equally playful. "I would have pegged you as more of a rom-com type."

Natasha laughed, shaking her head. "Only if they’re really good or really bad. I’m talking cheesy, predictable plots, over the top romance stuff that makes you cringe and laugh at the same time." You smiled, liking the idea that Natasha secretly enjoyed something so cheesy. "I’ll keep that in mind for next time."

"Next time?" Natasha’s eyes sparkled with amusement. "Are you already planning another movie night?"

"Maybe.." you said, leaning back into the couch, feeling a bit bolder now. "If you don’t mind hanging out with someone my age.." You want to risk it.

Natasha’s smile faltered briefly, the reminder of your age difference bringing the nagging doubts back to the forefront of her mind. She knew it was hard to ignore, but the reality of the situation was difficult to overlook. She was older, more experienced, and you were still so young..young enough to be her friend’s daughter.

"I don't mind," Natasha said after a moment, her voice now softer and more serious. Your heart skipped a beat at Natasha's words. You had thought the same, worried that Natasha might only see you as a child. But the fact that Natasha acknowledged it and was still sitting here with you gave you hope that maybe, just maybe, you weren't the only one with these feelings.

The room fell into a comfortable silence, but the air between you was still charged with unspoken words. You played with the thoughts again and couldn't shake the fear that it was wrong, that Natasha would never see you as anything more than the daughter of her best friend. The age difference was not just a number, it seemed like an almost insurmountable barrier.

Natasha, on the other hand, had similar thoughts. She had noticed how you moved closer, the subtle shifts in your body language, and it was driving her crazy. Part of her wanted to reach out, pull you into her arms, and see where the night would take you. But the other part? The part that knew better held her back. She couldn't simply ignore the fact that you were young, that you had your whole life ahead of you, and that a relationship with someone like her could complicate things in ways neither you nor she was prepared for.

"So," Natasha finally said, "if you don't like action movies, what do you like?" You hesitated, your mind racing with a thousand different answers, most of which had to remain unspoken. Eventually, you settled on a safe answer, though your tone was still playful. "I guess I like movies that have a bit of everything. action, romance, maybe a little mystery. Something that keeps you on your toes." Natasha nodded, her gaze intense as she looked at you. "Sounds like you enjoy a good challenge."

"I do." you replied, holding her gaze. "But I also like it when things surprise me..you know, when something happens that you don't see coming."

There was a moment of silence as Natasha processed your words, wondering if there was a deeper meaning behind them. Aaand that was the moment you realized that the conversation was moving beyond mere fun and flirting. But now, as Natasha sat quietly, her expression unreadable, you felt a wave of doubt wash over you.

Had you gone too far? Was Natasha uncomfortable? The last thing you wanted was for things to get awkward between the two of you, especially when you weren't even sure if Natasha felt the same way you did. The silence dragged on, and your confidence began to waver. You felt the heat rise to your cheeks, and embarrassment started to creep in. Maybe Natasha was just trying to think of a way to gently turn you down, to remind you that the age difference was something that shouldn't, or couldn't happen.

Needing to escape the tension you had unintentionally created, you cleared your throat and forced a small smile. "I, um..I think I'll go take a shower." You stood up, hoping Natasha wouldn't notice the slight trembling in your hands as you picked up your phone from the table.

"Sure." Natasha said, her voice calm, but there was an undertone you couldn't quite place. "I'll be here." You nodded, a quick, tense smile on your lips before you turned and headed to the bathroom. As you closed the door behind you, you leaned against it for a moment, taking a deep breath to calm yourself. You were probably overthinking the situation.

But still, the doubt lingered as you undressed and stepped under the shower, letting the warm water flow over your body. You hoped the shower would help clear your mind, push aside the awkward tension you felt, and maybe even help you figure out what to do next. But instead, your thoughts kept circling back to Natasha, her eyes, the way she had looked at you so intensely, the softness in her voice when she mentioned the age difference..

You wanted to believe that there was something there, that Natasha might not be as indifferent as you had feared. But every time you thought about making a move, that fear returned, reminding you that Natasha was older, wiser, and probably only saw you as her friend's daughter. It was complicated, and the last thing you wanted was to make things weird between the two of you.

Natasha was watching as you retreated to the bathroom, a small, satisfied smile playing on her lips. She had seen how your teasing had backfired on you, the sudden insecurity that had flashed across your face. It was clear that you were second guessing yourself, thinking you might have crossed a line. But Natasha knew better. She had seen the slight blush on your cheeks, the way your voice had faltered when you excused yourself to take a shower. You were nervous, but not in a bad way. You were flustered, and Natasha found herself relishing in that small victory.

After you left the room, Natasha stood up. She began walking through the house, taking in the familiar surroundings. It had been a while since she had been here, and while much of the house remained unchanged, there were small differences like new photos on the walls or different decorations.

As she wandered, her steps led her to the door of your bedroom. It was slightly ajar, and Natasha hesitated for only a moment before pushing it open. The room was warm, the faint scent of your perfume still lingering in the air. Natasha's eyes were instantly drawn to the bed, where a small pile of clothing lay, presumably the ones you had just taken off. Among them, a delicate pair of underwear caught Natasha's attention, and she felt a surge of heat course through her body as she picked up the delicate lingerie. She knew she shouldn't be here, that her thoughts were veering into dangerous territory, but she couldn't resist the pull. Her fingers ran over the soft fabric, and a quiet shiver ran through her body. The familiar scent of you clinging to the clothing sent her senses into overdrive. Natasha closed her eyes briefly, unable to completely ignore the intensity of the moment.

Her breathing became heavier as she brought the underwear closer to her face, inhaling the scent. An internal battle raged within her, between the rational part of her that told her she needed to stop and the unbridled desire that urged her to continue. Natasha felt her self control beginning to crumble, her thoughts wandering to you, standing naked and vulnerable just a room away.

While she was lost in these forbidden fantasies, Natasha didn't notice that you had finished your shower. The world around her blurred, and all she could sense was the scent, the warmth, and the thought of you. Her hand slipped under the waistband of her jeans, and she began to touch herself, lost in the thought of you being with her. As she stood there, lost in her thoughts, she hadn’t heard the bathroom door open. She hadn’t noticed your quiet steps until it was too late.

"Natasha?"

Your voice pulled Natasha out of her reverie, and she turned sharply, her eyes widening in surprise as she saw you standing there, wrapped only in a towel, your wet hair clinging to your shoulders. For a moment, both of you froze, the air between you thick with tension and something far more primal.

Your eyes drifted to the underwear in Natasha's hand, then back to her face, a mix of shock and confusion on your expression. "What are you doing?"

Natasha felt a brief surge of fear, she hadn’t meant to be caught, hadn’t wanted you to see her like this. But as she looked into your wide eyes, a new resolve settled over her. This was the moment she had been waiting for, and she wasn’t going to let it slip by.

She dropped the underwear back onto the bed and slowly walked toward you, her movements deliberate, almost predatory. Instinctively, you took a step back, but you were already too close to the wall, and Natasha knew she had you exactly where she wanted. "Y/n," Natasha said softly, her voice low and commanding, "don’t be afraid."

"I..I’m not afraid.." you stammered, though the slight tremor in your body betrayed your nervousness. Your back touched the wall, and you found yourself cornered between it and Natasha’s imposing figure.

Natasha placed her hands on either side of your head, leaning in close, her breath warm against your cheek. "You don’t have to pretend, you know." she murmured, her lips brushing lightly against your ear. "I can see that you’re nervous."

Your breath caught in your throat, your heart racing as Natasha's words sank in. You had been so sure that this was just a game, a bit of harmless flirting that would never go anywhere. But now, with Natasha so close, the reality of the situation was impossible to ignore. "I saw how you looked at me tonight." Natasha continued, her voice rough with intent. "Did you think I wouldn’t notice? That I wouldn’t feel the same way?"

You swallowed hard, your mouth dry as you struggled to find your voice. "I..I didn’t know if you..if you wanted this too.."

Natasha’s eyes darkened, her gaze intensifying as she leaned in even closer, her lips almost brushing against yours. "I want you, but I need to hear it from you. Tell me you want this too."

Your head was spinning, your body trembling with a mix of fear and anticipation. You had never imagined Natasha would be so bold, so direct. But the truth was, you had wanted this, wanted her..for longer than you cared to admit.

"I..I want this." you finally whispered, your voice shaking but filled with determination. "I want you, Natasha."

A slow, predatory smile spread across Natasha's lips at your confession, and she pressed her body against yours, feeling the warmth of your skin through the towel. "Good girl." she whispered, her voice dripping with approval.

Natasha didn’t waste another second. She captured your lips in a passionate kiss, one that held all the pent-up desire and frustration she had been holding back for so long. You responded eagerly, your hands clutching at Natasha’s, pulling her closer as if you were afraid she might disappear if you let go.

The kiss deepened, and Natasha's hands roamed over your body, feeling you shiver under her touch. She relished the power she had over you, enjoyed making you admit your desires, and now she would make sure you understood exactly what it meant to be wanted by her.

When you finally pulled apart, both of you were breathing heavily, your eyes locking in a silent understanding of what was about to happen. "You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this." Natasha whispered, her hand sliding down your side, teasing the edge of your towel. "But now that I have you, I won’t be able to hold back."

You shuddered at her words, your eyes widening with a mix of excitement and nervousness. You knew that this night would change everything, but as you looked into Natasha’s eyes, you realized that you didn’t care. This was what you wanted, what you both wanted.

You could barely breathe as Natasha’s lips found yours again, the sensation overwhelming your senses. It was like you were floating, caught between reality and a dream, unable to fully grasp that this was really happening. You had fantasized about Natasha for so long, but you had never believed that your desires would be returned, that Natasha would want you just as much, if not more.

Natasha, on the other hand, was fully aware of every moment, every breath, every tremble that ran through your body. She relished how you shivered under her touch, the soft sighs that escaped your lips as her hands glided over your skin. It had been so long since Natasha had allowed herself to feel this way since she had allowed herself to truly desire someone, and now, with you in her hands, she wanted to take her time. She wanted to savor every moment, to show you how much you were cherished.

Natasha’s hands moved slowly, almost reverently, as she loosened the towel from your body and let it gently fall to the floor. You gasped as the cool air touched your bare skin, but Natasha quickly warmed you again with soft, teasing caresses, her fingers tracing along your sides, over your hips, and across your stomach. Natasha could feel the goosebumps under her fingertips, and it made her smile against your lips, knowing she was the cause of such a reaction.

You couldn’t believe this was really happening, that Natasha was touching you, kissing you, making you feel things you had only ever dreamed of. Natasha sensed your hesitation, your disbelief that this was real. She wanted to push you further, to make you fully embrace the moment, to understand how deep her desire for you was. She wanted to hear it from your own lips, what you wanted, what you needed.

Natasha pulled back just enough to look into your eyes, her hand still resting on your hip. “You’re trembling.” Natasha murmured, her voice low and laced with a dangerous sweetness. “Are you scared? Or is it something else?”

Your breath hitched, your heart racing as you gazed into Natasha’s intense green eyes. You were trembling, but not out of fear, no, this was something entirely different. Something that made you feel like you were standing on the edge of a precipice, ready to dive into the unknown.

“I’m not scared..” you whispered, your voice shaking but resolute. “Good." Natasha whispered back, her lips brushing against your ear. “Good, because I don’t want you to be afraid. I want you to tell me what you want. I need to hear it from you.”

Your mind was a whirlwind of desire and need, but you struggled to find the right words. It was so much, too much, and yet not enough. “I want you, Natasha. I need you..” you finally managed, your voice trembling with longing.

A triumphant smile appeared on Natasha’s lips, and her hand slid downward to touch you between your thighs. You gasped, your hips instinctively moving toward her touch, your body craving more.

“I know you want it.” Natasha purred, her fingers gently teasing your most sensitive spot with slow, deliberate movements. “But that’s not what I asked. I want you to tell me what you want me to do to you. Tell me, Y/n. Tell me exactly what you need.”

Your face flushed with heat, the combination of embarrassment and arousal almost unbearable. But the way Natasha looked at you, the way she touched you, made it impossible to hold back. You wanted this. Wanted Natasha and if that meant giving yourself to her completely, then you would.

“I want you to..to touch me.” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “Please, Natasha..touch me more.” Natasha’s smile deepened, her eyes glinting with a predatory gleam as she leaned in closer, her lips barely brushing against yours. “Good girl.” she whispered, her voice dripping with approval. “I’m going to touch you. I’m going to give you exactly what you want.”

With those words, Natasha moved her hand more purposefully, her fingers sliding between your folds, finding the wetness that made your heart race. Your breath came in short, sharp gasps, your body responding to every movement, every touch, as if Natasha’s hands were made of pure electricity.

Natasha’s pace was slow, agonizingly slow, her fingers exploring every inch of your body with deliberate care. She wanted to take her time, to push your pleasure to the very edge until you were begging for more. She wanted you to feel completely and utterly at her mercy.

“Does that feel good, Y/n?” Natasha whispered, her breath warm against your neck as she kissed along your collarbones. “Do you like it when I touch you like this?”

“Y-Yes..” you gasped, your hands clutching at Natasha’s shoulders, desperately searching for something to hold onto. “It feels so good..please, don’t stop..”

Natasha chuckled softly, the sound sending a shiver down your spine. “I’m not going to stop, Detka. Not until I make you feel everything you’ve ever dreamed of.” She increased the pressure, her fingers moving now with more determination, teasing and stroking in a way that made your legs tremble. Your body responded instinctively, your hips rocking in time with Natasha’s movements, your breath coming in short, desperate gasps.

Natasha watched you with a mix of adoration and lust, enjoying the power she had over you, the way she could bring you to the brink with just a few well-placed touches. She could see that you were close, your body tensing, your breath quickening, but Natasha wasn’t done with you yet. She wanted to push you further, to make you beg for release.

“Are you close?” Natasha whispered, her voice dark and commanding. “Do you want to come for me?” You could barely think, your mind a haze of overwhelming pleasure. “Yes!” you gasped, your voice breaking. “Please, Natasha…let me come..!”

Natasha’s smile was sinful as she leaned in closer, her lips brushing lightly against your ear. “Not yet.. You’ll come when I say so, okay?”

You whimpered, your body trembling with the effort of holding back, teetering on the edge of climax without being able to let go. But Natasha didn’t relent, her fingers continuing their precise, skilled movements, keeping you right on the brink of ecstasy.

“Please, Natasha!” you pleaded, your voice quivering with desperation. “Please..I can’t..I need.."

“Shh.." Natasha whispered, her voice softening just a little. “I know, baby. I know what you need. But I want you to say it again. Tell me exactly what you want.”

Your mind was spinning, the need almost unbearable. You were completely at Natasha’s mercy, and that realization only made your desire burn hotter. “I want you to let me come, Natasha, please, please!”

Natasha’s eyes gleamed with satisfaction, and she finally gave you what you had been begging for, her fingers moving faster, more decisively, pushing you right over the edge. “That’s it, Y/n.” Natasha murmured, her voice thick with desire. “Come for me. Now.”

With Natasha’s permission, you finally let go, your body convulsing as waves of pleasure crashed over you, more intense than anything you had ever felt before. You cried out, your mind going completely blank as you surrendered to the overwhelming sensation, your body shaking with the force of your orgasm. She held you tightly, her fingers still moving, drawing every last bit of pleasure from your trembling body. She whispered soft, soothing words in your ear, her hand gently stroking your back as you came down from your high.

You slumped against the wall, your body exhausted, your breath coming in ragged gasps. You could hardly believe what had just happened, how intense it had been, how Natasha had made you feel things you had never imagined. You thought it was over, that this was the end, like in the movies..But then Natasha’s voice cut through the haze, deep and commanding. “I’m not done with you yet.”

Your eyes widened, your heart skipping a beat as you realized that Natasha was still there, still holding you, still touching you. “But..” you stammered, your voice weak. “I thought..”

“You thought that was it?” Natasha’s smile was dark, almost devilish. “Oh no, Detka. I haven’t come yet. And I’m not going to stop until I make you feel everything again.” Your eyes widened, a mix of excitement and nervousness flooding your senses. You could feel Natasha’s fingers beginning to move again, this time with more urgency, more determination. The realization that Natasha wasn’t done with you yet, that this was just the beginning, sent a fresh wave of arousal through your already sensitive body.

Natasha watched your reaction closely, her eyes glinting with satisfaction. She wanted to push you further, to see how much you could take, how many times she could make you break in her arms. Natasha’s other hand slid up to your neck, applying just the slightest pressure as she tilted your head back so that you could look into her eyes.

"This," Natasha said softly, her voice a whisper as she guided your hand between you. Your eyes widened as you felt it. Hard, throbbing, and undeniably real. Natasha was already rock hard, her erection pressing demandingly against her jeans, and the realization hit you like a wave.

You had fantasized about Natasha, but nothing could have prepared you for the reality. Natasha didn’t just want to touch you.. no she wanted to take you in a way you had never experienced before.

Your eyes flickered back to Natasha's face, filled with a mix of awe and nervous anticipation. "I..I've never.." you began, but your words faltered. Natasha's expression softened, and she raised her hand to gently cup your face. "I’ll be gentle. I want you to feel every moment of this. If you want to stop at any point, just tell me."

You nodded, your heart pounding in your chest. You had always imagined what this moment might be like, but now that it was here, it was both terrifying and thrilling. The way Natasha looked at you, the way she touched you, made you feel like you were the only person in the world that mattered. And you wanted that, you wanted Natasha to be the one to show you how it could be.

She kissed you gently, tenderly, as she began to unbutton her jeans, her hands steady despite the electric tension that vibrated through her body. You watched as she pushed her jeans and boxers just far enough down to release her erection. Your eyes widened at the sight. "It's okay, Y/n." Natasha whispered reassuringly, her voice gentle as she guided your hand to her, letting you feel her warmth and weight. "We’ll take it slow."

Your fingers closed around Natasha's shaft, the reality of the feeling grounding you in the moment. You marveled at how it felt, how Natasha’s breath hitched slightly as you touched her. It was real, tangible, and you could feel your own arousal rising even more at the thought of what was about to happen.

Natasha watched you, making sure you were comfortable before moving forward. She could see the awe in your eyes, how your breathing quickened, and it only fueled Natasha’s desire further. Gently, she lifted your leg, hooking it around her hip as she positioned herself at your entrance. "Just breathe, baby." Natasha whispered, her voice full of encouragement as she pressed her forehead against yours. "I’ve got you."

You nodded, your heart racing as you felt the pressure of Natasha’s erection at your entrance. Natasha moved slowly, carefully, giving you time to adjust as she began to enter you. You gasped, your fingers digging into Natasha’s shoulders as you felt the pressure, the stretch, the fullness as Natasha entered you for the first time. "It’s okay." Natasha repeated, her voice thick with emotion as she kissed your neck, her hands gently guiding your hips to lead you carefully. "You’re doing so well. Just be a good girl and let me in."

Your breath came in short, sharp gasps as Natasha continued to slide into you, your body adjusting to the new sensation. It was intense, almost overwhelming, but there was also something incredibly intimate about it..something that made you feel more connected to Natasha than you had ever felt with anyone before.

When Natasha was fully inside you, she paused, giving you a moment to breathe, to adjust, to feel how perfectly you fit together. "You’re so tight.." Natasha whispered, her voice a mix of awe and desire. "So perfect." You could hardly believe this was real, that Natasha was inside you, filling you, making you feel things you had never imagined.

Natasha noticed the change, a wicked smile playing on her lips as she felt your body begin to respond. "That’s it." Natasha murmured, her voice dark with satisfaction. "You’re starting to feel it, aren’t you?"

Her hands gripped your hips tightly as she began to move, slowly at first, savoring every moment of how your body reacted to each of her thrusts. Your eyes closed, your head fell back against the wall as the pleasure began to build in you again, this time even more intense. Natasha’s movements were slow, deliberate, each thrust sending a wave of pleasure through your body, lifting you higher and higher.

"Look at me." Natasha whispered, "I want to see you, Y/n. I want to watch you break." Your eyes snapped open, meeting Natasha’s gaze. The intensity in her eyes, the way she looked at you with such passion and adoration, took your breath away. You had never felt so vulnerable, so exposed, but at the same time, so cherished. It was overwhelming, but in the best possible way.

Natasha’s pace increased slightly, her thrusts becoming more demanding, insistent. She could feel your body trembling beneath her, your breath coming in ragged gasps and it only drove Natasha’s desire further. "Tell me how it feels." Natasha whispered, her lips brushing your ear as she thrust deeper. "I want to hear it from you."

"It f-feels..incredible.." you gasped, your voice trembling with emotion. "I never..I never thought it could feel like t-this.."

Natasha smiled, her heart swelling with pride and affection. "That’s my girl " she murmured, her voice full of appreciation. "I’m going to make you feel even better.."

You moaned as Natasha’s thrusts became more powerful, more focused, each one bringing you closer to the edge. You could feel the pleasure building in you again, more intense than before, and you knew you were close, so incredibly close.

Natasha felt it too, and she didn’t let up, her hips driving forward with precision, her grip on your hips tightening as she pushed you both higher. "That’s it, Y/n.." Natasha growled, "Come for me. I want to feel you come around my cock."

Your whole body tensed, the pleasure reaching a peak as Natasha’s words pushed you over the edge. With one last, desperate cry, you came, your body clenching around Natasha’s cock, the intensity of the orgasm making you see stars.

But Natasha wasn’t finished yet. She kept moving, giving you no time to recover, driving you through the aftershocks straight into another wave of pleasure. "Oh, no." Natasha whispered, her voice dark and teasing as she leaned in to capture your lips in a heated kiss. "I’m not done with you yet, baby. You’re going to come for me again."

You whimpered, your body trembling under the overwhelming sensations coursing through you. You had never experienced anything like this, had never thought your body could take so much, could feel so much pleasure. But Natasha gave you no choice, and the thought of being pushed even further sent a thrill of excitement through you.

Natasha’s thrusts became more faster, more relentless as she chased her own climax, but she never lost focus on you, never stopped driving you closer and closer to the edge. She wanted to feel you break beneath her, wanted to push you to another peak, to show you how much you were truly capable of feeling.

"N-Natasha..please..." you gasped, your voice trembling with desperation. "I can’t...it’s too much.."

"You can." Natasha whispered, "You can take it. You’re going to come for me again, okay? I want you to milk my cock..f-fuck.."

Natasha could feel her own control slipping, the tight heat of your body driving her closer and closer to the edge. "Look at me." Natasha ordered, her voice sharp as she slowed her thrusts just enough to draw out the moment. "I want to see your face when you come for me one last time."

You forced your eyes open, meeting Natasha’s intense gaze. The intensity in her eyes was almost too much to bear, but you couldn’t look away. You were lost in the storm of Natasha’s desire, your body trembling uncontrollably as you balanced on the edge of another climax. Your whimper sent a shock of satisfaction through Natasha, and she finally let herself go. Her thrusts became faster, more erratic, as she chased her own release, her grip on your hips tightening as she drove you both to the brink.

"I’m going to fill you up.." Natasha growled, her voice rough with impending relief. You could only moan in response, your body so overstimulated that you didn’t think you could survive another orgasm. But Natasha gave you no choice. With one final, brutal thrust, Natasha buried herself deep inside you and let out a deep, guttural groan as she came, her cock pulsing as she filled you with her release.

The sensation of Natasha coming inside you, combined with the intensity of her voice, sent you into another orgasm, your whole body convulsing under the force of it. You screamed Natasha’s name, your voice hoarse and broken as you were completely consumed by pleasure, your body trembling uncontrollably.

Natasha held you tightly, her body still trembling from the intensity of her climax. She continued to move slowly, gently rocking her hips to prolong the sensation, even as your body finally began to relax, your muscles still twitching from the aftershocks of such intense pleasure.

When it was finally over, Natasha leaned forward and kissed you gently, her lips tender against your trembling ones. “God, you were wonderful..” Natasha murmured, her voice softening as she stroked your cheek. “I’m so proud of you.”

You could barely respond, your body completely exhausted, but there was a deep sense of satisfaction in your heart.

Natasha carefully withdrew from you, making sure you were comfortable as she released you from the wall. She gently guided you to the bed, your legs feeling weak as you sank onto the soft sheets. You were utterly spent, your body still trembling slightly from the aftermath of the intense experience.

Natasha lay down beside you, gently pulling you into her arms and holding you tightly against her. Your forehead rested on her chest, and you could hear the steady beat of her heart, giving you a sense of safety and comfort.

“Rest, okay?” Natasha whispered softly, her fingers soothingly running through your hair. “I’m here with you.” You nodded weakly, unable to put into words the flood of emotions rising within you. Your body was utterly exhausted, but it was a pleasant fatigue, a deep satisfaction spreading through you.

As you relaxed in Natasha’s arms, you began to slowly drift into sleep, secure in the knowledge that you were safe with her. Natasha continued to hold you close, her touch tender and comforting. She pressed gentle kisses to your forehead as your breathing slowly calmed, and you let yourself sink deeper into the comforting warmth of her embrace.

“I’m so glad you trusted me..” Natasha whispered quietly, almost more to herself than to you, her voice full of affection. “I’ll always take care of you, Y/n.”

With those words, you finally allowed yourself to fully surrender to sleep, wrapped in the secure feeling that you would always be protected and loved in Natasha’s arms. As you fell asleep, the last thing you felt was the gentle embrace and the steady, reassuring beat of her heart beneath your ear. A moment of peace and security that you would keep in your heart forever.

[luvjunie]

— sleepover

pairing: e-1610!miles x fem!reader

contains: fluffff! jeff and rio being realistic parents, miles being stubborn per usual

summary: miles’ parents finally agreed to letting the two of you have a sleepover, on one condition. however, miles was never the best at following directions. wc: 1,630

New york. The city that never sleeps.

The faint murmuring of bustling cars and the habitual honking of horns seeped through the tight seal of the shut apartment window; ironic in the way it somehow lulled you. An imperfect melody you welcomed—also the same one deemed a nuisance by those foreign to the chaos that naturally assimilated to comfort the longer you remained in Brooklyn. It usually helped you slip into a slumber with ease—but now— was succeeding in its attempt of doing the exact opposite.

And when you heard Miles expel a weighted, disgruntled sigh; you were led to believe the two of you had more in common with each other apart from the fact that you both lived here.

After weeks and weeks of begging, and endless explanations as to why exactly he needed his girlfriend to sleep over when they wouldn’t even get to utilize the time spent together because they were supposed to be asleep, Miles had finally convinced his mom and dad to let the two of you have a sleepover.

Fun, right?

Yeah, well you thought it’d be. Until his mom insisted the two of you bring your pillows and blankets and fantasies of your life as a matured couple to the living room and sleep out there. Six feet away from each other. You guys were practically social distancing like it was 2019 all over again.

The curt reasoning she offered included something about her not wanting the two of you in his room alone at night; not that she thought her son would actually be dumb enough to do anything along those lines with her in the house. You loved Mama Rio, but even if you didn’t, it wouldn’t matter. This was her house, and that meant you had to follow her rules. The fact that you were even able to come over as much as you did was a blessing in itself, so you took everything else in stride.

Miles let you take the couch of course, and he was currently sprawled out on his back on the floor, a pillow tucked beneath his head as he studied the minuscule cracks in the ceiling as if they truly interested him. Scrolling through his instagram timeline had gotten old fairly quickly, and at 1:00AM in the morning, neither of you were really motivated enough for conversation.

You were more than grateful to spend a night with your boyfriend, but this wasn’t necessarily how you expected it to go. Whenever you guys would hang out during normal hours of the day, you’d always end up in his embrace, curled and cuddled into each other comfortably. Whatever movie or tv-show you’d put on in the background begging for the same attention you’d give each other. After growing used to such a routine, that was really the only way you could fall asleep at his house.

But alas, holding your pillow close to you instead of him would have to suffice, you decided, as you let your eyes close once again.

“Baby?” Miles called out into the darkness, lip chewed in anticipation.

Silence.

He’d said only a word but you knew better than to engage. A conversation would end up with the two of you in trouble in the morning, so you pretended to be asleep.

“I know you’re awake. I counted exactly three seconds between your last two breaths and when you’re asleep it slows down to five.”

You stifled a laugh, ultimately blowing your cover. “Okay, now that’s just creepy.”

“People who are asleep don’t laugh!” he quipped.

A smile snuck onto your lips and you hadn’t the heart to reprimand it, lids peeling back open to stare up at the same ceiling he was.

“Yes, Miles?”

“Can you not fall asleep either, or have I become an insomniac all of a sudden?” The question came with a sigh, long arms spread to their full wingspan as he tried to count how many full rotations the ceiling fan made in a minute. That was how bored he was.

You sighed disappointedly, toying with the frayed tassels on your blanket. A moue on your face. “No, I can’t fall asleep either.”

“I think I know why.” he sung the last word in suggestion, hands absentmindedly drumming against his abdomen.

“Miles,” you warned, letting your head fall to the side so you could stare at the top of his head and address him directly. “Your mom gave very specific instructions, and personally, I would like to return home to mine with my head still on my shoulders.” grumbling your response, you shoved down the urge to invite him up there with you like your mind was telling you to.

He propped himself up on an elbow at that, eyes immediately making contact with yours. Your first mistake was not looking away, because those pretty pools of hazel were already starting to convince you and he hadn’t even opened his mouth yet.

“But how is that fair?” he complained, sounding exasperated. “We take naps together all the time when you’re here, I just wanna cuddle with you.” he sulked, as if you were the one who’d come up with the rule. Never in a million years would you submit the both of you to this kind of torture. You loved falling asleep in his arms.

You rolled your eyes at him, “Well, yeah. But that’s during the day, when she can check on us anytime she wants to. I don’t think your mom wants us that close to each other at night for,” The last part of your sentence faded to a jumbled murmur as your gaze traveled back to the ceiling. “…obvious reasons.”

He impishly raised a brow as if he didn’t know what you were referring to, chin resting in the palm of his hand. With only the faded lights of the city to illuminate the living room, the cheeky smile on his face went unnoticed, though you could hear it in the tone of his voice, loud and clear.

“And what reasons are those?” Miles asked, feigning innocence. His long lashes blinking at you.

Hand smacking to your forehead, you recited a silent prayer, a plea for strength. It was beginning to look like you weren’t going to get yourself out of this. “You know exactly what I’m talking about.”

His hand gestured to the air, plainly. “Well obviously. But still, we’re not dumb. That’s why I always take you to the roof when we—“

“Miles Gonzalo Morales do not finish that sentence!”

He snorted at the squeak of your voice and you used your pillow to hide your heated face.

“This is not going to help us fall asleep.” your irritated statement was muffled from the fabric of the pillowcase.

He hummed. “Exactly, meaning there’s only one thing left to try.” Slow to catch on, you didn’t realize what he meant until you felt the couch dip from the weight of his knee.

A hand trickled up the exposed skin of your thigh and it stopped when it met your sleep-shorts clad hip, the pillow snatched from your face and tossed onto the floor where he previously resided just a second ago.

“What are you—?”

He hovered over you, one hand pressed into the cushion beside your waist to hold himself up. Your question fell short when he swiftly parted your legs with his other hand and comfortably slotted his body between your thighs. A relieved sigh escaped him, his cheek nuzzling into the soft of your chest when he laid on top of you. His favorite way to cuddle.

“Shhh, trying to sleep.” murmuring a dismissive answer to your query, he let his eyes flutter to a close and snaked his arms around your waist, forearms cradling the curve of your back.

Contrary to the fight you were putting up just a minute ago— your arm curled over the expanse of his shoulders, fingers idly twirling at the baby curls that dusted the nape of his neck, something you always did to help him fall asleep faster. He let out a low, satisfied sound and relaxed into you completely, his hold on you tightening. While a part of you wanted to protest, an even bigger part wanted to remain under him like this. His weight was comforting; made you feel secure in the way a weighted blanket did.

“Your mom is not going to be happy with us.” you reminded him, stretching your other arm down enough to grab your blanket and pull it up over the two of you.

“It’s worth it. I’ll happily take the blame,” he drawled sleepily, snuggling in closer to the kiss that grazed his forehead. “I love you…” The laggard pace to his words let you know he was already dozing off, and you smiled, fatigue finally catching up with you too.

“I love you, Miles.”

— extra scene

Jeff stood in silence, arms folded over his broad chest and lips puckered awkwardly. Rio occupied the space next to him, hands perched on her wide hips, fingers tapping against them and her jaw clenched in disapproval. Her expression was everything but amused at the scene in front of them. He stole a tactful glance at his wife every two seconds, silently trying to gauge how irritated she was without having to ask her.

Sometime during the night you and Miles had switched places, and now his lanky legs were draped over the arm of the small couch and you were on top of him, clung to his body like a wet T-shirt, face barely visible seeing as it was nestled into the crook of his neck. With his mouth hanging slack as he loftily snored, Rio felt her eye almost twitch while she stared down at her stubborn son, who seemed to have magically teleported from his assigned spot on the floor and into yours instead.

“Well, I coulda told’ya that would happen.” Jeff said quietly with a laid-back shrug, to which Rio responded with a back-handed swat to his chest.

“Ow!”

Through her aggravation she still kept her voice low as to not wake the two of you, eyes narrowed at her husband. “I am going to strangle this boy, Jeff. Dios ayudame. ¡Tu hijo nunca escucha! (God help me, your son never listens!)” she griped, gesturing towards Miles’ arm that was loosely circled around your waist. She tramped down the hall, hands tossed up in defeat while she grumbled something incoherent under her breath.

Lips downturned into an offended frown, Jeff coddled his chest with his palm and followed after her, voice kicked up an octave like a nagging child. “Why is he only my son when he does something you don’t like? We made him together!”

- please do not plagiarize, copy, or repost my works to other platforms!

likes, comments, and reblogs are much appreciated 💗

[writing-makes-me-human]

🌊Love And Guests🌊

┍━━━━━»•» 🌺 «•«━┑

Pairing: Aonung x reader

PART TWO: HERE

Summary: Aonung has put out your usual sass with his recent flirting and it’s driving you insane. When he finally gets to speak with you alone as he shows off his spear throwing expertise it gets heated quickly

Warnings: Sexual tension and heated word choices, no smut but it gets close, mention of genitals 

Word Count: 3.1K

A/N: No updates, I’m getting back into writing after months of breaks so I’m sorry if i’m rusty.  Also I feel like it goes without saying that Aonung is of age in all of my writing. I am not just writing about a minor, you are close in age. 19 years old.

┕━»•» 🌺 «•«━━━━━┙

"I still don't know why you think it's better that I teach you instead of my brother", Tsireya warmly suggested as she handed you a beginner's spear to practice with.

"Because I want to learn from the best", was all you managed to say as you took the spear in your hands and inspected it with wandering hands.

The real reason you were so eager to meet up with Tsireya instead of Aonung was laughable. Aonung had been playing a dangerous game with your feelings, making you feel a way you shouldn't to fuel your thoughts about the chief's son. Avoiding the brat to the best of your abilities for weeks now was the only way you could fight the fact you were slowly starting to become infatuated with the boy that was growing into a young man.

He had become cocky now that he was of age, and while he still had a few years of learning left before becoming chief, it had become clear his training was making him more and more defined. The way his body moved with every hearty laugh or every faux wrestling match with his friends drove you up the wall, so you decided it was best to try and stop seeing him altogether.

However, this was becoming a challenge as he had recently decided to spend more of his free time harassing you than anyone else. It was very confusing, as you thought you had put this bullying behind you when you were children. That could easily be forgotten, though, as he was indeed still the next leader, and that could explain his rudeness, but what couldn't be helped was the blush that overgrew you every time he towered over you with that smirk that he didn't know affected you in such unforgiving ways.

"Well, thank you, I'm flattered", she giggled, then continued, "but Aonung is the top in the clan at spear throwing, and he's not gonna be happy if he finds out you asked me instead of him", she never felt bad for her brother. Still, when it came to the matter of his undying yet, painfully expressed crush on you, she felt merciful.

You scoffed, squaring yourself next to her as you looked towards the targets drawn on the ground.

The target range for spear-throwing was closer to the village than any of the other training areas because you needed the clear ground to allow a large windup for hurling the stick through the air. It was still private, which you enjoyed because you had a feeling this was going to be an embarrassingly miserable display of physical prowess.

The targets were set up in the distance and made up of 3 circles of fine white sand sprinkled in precise shapes on the ground. Tsireya had already collected the sand earlier in the day and laid out the rings in exchange for you to be the one that churned the sand into the dirt when you were done so the next person who came to train could easily set up the rings and get started.

"I don't think I could handle his smugness at having me asking him a favor", you smiled at her, holding up the spear like you had seen Aonung and his friends do when they came here to learn when you were younger.

It was the truth. Honestly, you wouldn't have been able to handle his smug looks or laugh or the fact that to teach you meant one on one time by yourselves. You would prefer being lectured by Ronal, and that was saying something.

She nodded, trying to copy you as she held up the pointed end of the spear into the air, getting herself ready to fling the wooden spike. The artillery was too large for her, and you watched in curiosity as she heaved it up a little higher with a grunt.

"Alright, so what you want to do is pull back and using your back leg, you want to push--" she was cut off by the sound of laughter in the near vicinity. Before she could resume her instructions, you heard the sound of foliage and leafs being broken as a group of four boys emerged into the clearing, each of them but one with their spears by their side.

Aonung was still laughing at something Rotxo had said, but when he looked up and saw you, with your arms still raised as his sister mirrored you, he felt his heart skip a beat and his face light up with delight.

You cursed under your breath and dropped the stick like it was a venomous snake, instantly turning around to hide your slightly tinged face.

This was so unfair! He hadn't even said anything so far. All he had done was smile and laugh! He never had this much of a hold on you when he was younger. As he got older and his hair grew past his shoulders, and his muscles became larger, you became less aware of what to do with yourself.

"I have to go", you mumbled, feeling the tinge fade as you turned to pick up the burlap sack you had brought with you and leave for the village.

"Well, what is going on here?" Aonung called out in the conceited tone he saved for when he was talking to you. His deep voice boomed around the clearing, forcing its way into your ears and silencing the chatter between his other friends.

You didn't respond and instead made your way in the opposite direction they had come from, but before you could escape, a few words were yelled out, making your face nearly melt off your skull and onto the floor below you.

"Somewhere to be, pretty girl?" Aonung called out while his friends spread out, tossing down their training gear and lunches they had packed in preparation for a few hours of training.

You turned sharply, trying to calm your breathing so the blood would move from the gathering in your cheeks down to your heart which desperately needed the extra help because the poor thing was beating overtime.

"Just remembered I have somewhere to be", you said rather awkwardly, not allowing yourself to come across as timid but not quite having the energy to yell back at him with the same enthusiasm.

"Oh, come on! You said you wanted to learn from the best, and he's right here!" Tsireya spoke. She lay down her spear next to yours and jogged up to you. She grinned as she gently tugged on your hand, coaxing you to come and stand to talk to the boys who were checking over their weapons.

You sighed, then gave in, dropping the sack and letting her drag you over to Aonung, who was still standing in the same spot. As you walked over, he had a proud smile etched on his face, and you wanted nothing more than to slap it off.

Your face dropped so you could look anywhere but into his eyes that would have caught you in his dangerous trap of good looks and gentle teasing and never let you go.

"Come on, teach her!" Tsireya was far too excited, nearly jumping up and down while her older brother rolled his eyes and crossed his arms over his chest.

"Who said I wanted to help?" He snarkly asked, then continued, "and next time you're thinking of using my spear, ask!" He spat, gesturing to the spike that was laid on the ground rather carelessly. That cleared up the question of why the spear had nearly tipped her over when she held it up.

She elbowed him roughly in the chest with her free arm causing him to bend down a little in pain and scowl at her, but no sound of agony came out.

He quickly straightened himself and snarled at Tsireya, but she gave him a pointed look before her eyes darted to you several times. After a few seconds, he finally got her unspoken threat and sighed, pushing past the both of you to walk over to collect his projectile.

You ignored the feeling of his hand burning on your shoulder as he pushed between you two, breaking the hold Tsireya had on you.

"Come on, pretty girl, let's see what you can do", he called out, not bothering to turn around because he knew you'd be following.

You looked over to Tsireya before you elbowed her yourself, questioning her with a look. She knew you didn't want to speak with him, yet here he was and instead of ushering him away, she had insisted he teaches you.

She simply shrugged at you and pushed you forward before running off to sit next to her brother's friends.

You passed by Rotxo and nodded to him in greetings which he returned before tucking into the fruits he had brought with him. He was chatting with his friends, who all found a spot under a nearby tree that was far enough away from the targets that they wouldn't hear you and Aonung's words to each other but still close enough that they could still see any funny failings.Your eyes settled on Aonung's back, and you took a deep breath, you didn't even have the shame to look away when he crouched down and picked up his spear, checking it over for dirt or marks.

"You watch me first, then you try", he said, glancing over to see you were watching him with eyes slightly wide at the idea of trying to copy his expert throw with an audience.

He smiled at you, which caused you to blush and break the stare you had been holding on his body, which only made him grin, thus continuing the terrible cycle.

"Eyes on me, nobody else is watching, so you can look at me as much as you want", he called you out with a smirk when you finally scowled, giving him a reaction that he couldn't help but chuckle at.

"I worry for anybody that enjoys looking at you", you hissed while taking a step back, knowing he would have to have some space to move when he threw the spike.

He didn't say anything this time but didn't have to. His eyes spoke for him as they shone like the sea on a sunny day.

"So she speaks! I was beginning to worry!" He watched you roll your eyes in amusement with a slight smile on your face, and he silently swore at himself in his head for turning so you wouldn't see his sly grin that he only got when he made you happy.

"Let's start", he wasted no more time and held the wooden stick over his head. You watched with slightly awestruck eyes as his body moved so purposefully.

He raised the spear, and using his other arm, he aimed to secure the direction he was throwing in. He could feel your eyes on him, and it made him cocky. He wanted to show off, to show you he was strong and worthy of praise.

He pulled back his left leg, then after taking a breath, he threw it with as much strength as it took to land directly in the centre of the target. They were far closer than he usually had them, but it was to be expected since you were a beginner.

The weapon shot through the air before the sharp spearhead dug into the ground with a thud, landing directly in the centre of the most petite ring. A perfect bullseye.

He leaned back with a satisfied grin. He turned to look at you with the hopes you would be at least slightly impressed. You were still staring, mouth open in an 'o' shape, struck somewhat by just how gifted at the sport he was, and it made a part of his internal body tingle when you turned with the look changing from amazement to an affectionate smile.

"I'll admit you aren't bad, I've seen worse", you couldn't help the smile anymore. He always had a way of killing off your anxiety, and right now was no different. His cocky grin made your heart speed up, but your mind just wanted to insult him until he dropped.

"If that's all it takes to impress you, I am afraid to know how easy it is to please you", he took no shame in his words, and your smile quickly dropped to embarrassed growls as you hid your face, turning to look over at his friends that were all talking to Tsireya about something at the same time. The discussion looked heated, and none of them paid attention to you two.

You watched, eyes as focused as ever. 

"Arrogant brat", was all you could get out as you looked down at your feet and kicked at the dirt.

"Oh, did I touch a nerve? I didn't know you were such a goody-goody", he didn't wait for your smart-ass answer and walked off to tug his spear out of the ground sharply. Your mind was reeling as you heard a soft grunt escape his lips as he yanked his prize out of the ground.

You shook your head and bent down to pick up the training spear you had been given, not taking notice of your position that had your back to the sky until you felt a hand smack into your backside harshly.

The slap was loud, making your face turn scarlet red as you jumped up, abandoning the spike to glare at Aonung with a death stare.

You were shocked, he had never been so bold with his teasing, and while it wouldn't have crossed a line had you been alone, you could feel the four pairs of eyes gawking at the back of your head.

"Don't", you gently warned. You didn't want to admit it, and you knew it was wrong, and the pompous imp should have been ashamed of himself, Aonung should have been on his hands and knees begging to be forgiven, but a part of your brain was fighting not to jump his bones right now and embarrass him in front of his friends.

And he dared to look proud of himself as he laughed at your face, raising his hand in a half-assed attempt to hide the smile while you geared up to smack him across the face.

He noted how livid you looked and sighed. He hadn't meant to offend you. But when he was walking back and saw how your ass was staring at him like that, he couldn't resist the temptation.

"All right, I'm sorry" he held his hands up in surrender as a beam of playfulness poured from his eyes as a flirtatious grin overtook him.

"If you want to touch my body, ask, coward", you bit back, letting yourself grin as he took his turn of letting his mouth go slack at your actions.

"What's wrong pretty boy? Need some help?" you chuckled, nodding your head south. His eyes followed yours with a confused quirk on his brow as he looked down, and his eyes widened as he nervously took in that he had a half chub under his loin cloth.

You took a step back from him, feeling the heat between your legs signal it was time to go before you made some terrible mistakes that led you both behind a tree somewhere doing things you wanted to make him wait for.

He couldn't take his eyes off you, and as you felt the roles reversing, you suddenly understood why Aonung found the teasing so fun.

He looked back up at your smug face and peeked toward the group behind you with a silent plea in his eyes. Don't drag their attention down to his excitement.

"You need to learn some manners, Aonung, it's not becoming of the next chief to be so blatant in public, you've really hurt my feelings", you gave a dramatic exaggeration of a pout to him while your hands came to lay on your heart.

He was blocked from the sight line of his peers by where you were standing, but one step to the left or right and even from this distance, it was undeniable that he was hard.

He hadn't moved to cover his crotch yet but he dropped the spear, staring at you with begging eyes. It seemed that your sudden 360 from being a blushed-out lovesick moron to a vengeful demon had done nothing to ease him down, if anything, you made it worse.

You leaned forward, taking great pleasure in standing on your feet a little to get even with his ear, your hot breath panted onto his neck and he couldn't do anything to stop you. One move, and you'd be exposing him to his closest friends.

"Compared to me, I think it's you that's easy to please", you smiled, and he hated how he could feel the heat from your mouth as your teeth came so close to his neck that it drove him mad.

You quickly pulled away and smiled when you saw his eyes were closed, he was focusing on his breathing like he had you doing from his actions so many times before, and it felt so good to see him like this. A grown man that was bigger than you in every way imaginable was trying to calm his breath over you and your words.

"Well, this has been fun, but I'll see you later, Aonung", you felt confident for the first time in weeks and slowly, you felt the old you coming back, the sarcastic you that had just as much bark in you as Aonung.

You turned to leave, but he grabbed your arm, pulling you closer to him, not quite flush against his body, lest one of the others looked up again and saw you two so close.

"Wait a few minutes, then follow me", he didn't give you the time to reply once again as he picked up the spear and finally had the dignity to cover himself with his free hand before walking off to go deeper into the forest without so much as a glance back.

Oh, you knew you shouldn't. You should turn around and leave, let the warrior get himself off in the forest like the animal he was acting like. Still, the heat that had signaled you to go nearly 5 minutes ago had grown, and you knew that even if it wasn't visible, your body was nearly 10x as horny as Aonung was.

You wanted him.

But you knew you couldn't mate here, and certainly not like this.

'Leave, leave leave', your mind screamed as your feet took step after step of their own volition after him.

You worried for a second that somebody would call out to you and ask where you were going, but a part of you knew that everyone had already worked out the nature of what was going on with you two. They had all been staring at you after he slapped your ass, so they must have.

"I'll just talk to him", you finally muttered to yourself as you set off in a faster pace, going off to find him.

[ennabear]

vampire!ellie

synopsis: you met ellie in your university’s ancient library, you were just trying to study and ellie couldn’t help but talk to you. it drove her crazy, the scent of your blood. usually, she didn’t even notice the scent on others. she was so used to it that it didn’t bother her anymore. but you were different, sweeter.

cw: kinda like a mix between tlou and twilight, mentions of witchcraft and hanging, vampire!abby being a ladykiller literally, papa vampire!joel, mama vampire!tess, newlyweds vampire!jesse and dina, dina’s transformation, lotsssss of backstory like i seriously couldn’t stop myself from yapping. not proofread sorry :((((((

a/n: i’m definitely gonna make a series out of this. sorry if this is wayyy too long but i have a special place in my heart for vamp!ellie and her sweet vampire family. ok that’s all ily thanks for reading.

wc: 2.2k

you shouldn’t be walking alone at night, really. campus was a sketchy place. a plethora of bad things could happen. you could get kidnapped, jumped, pickpocketed, or, hell, even bitten by a vampire.

the library had the same scent it always did. it smelled like dust and paper. in all honesty, you didn’t prefer it here. although it was beautiful, tall windows lined with stained glass, large bookshelves with every book you’d ever want, every word you could imagine and more, it was just so eerie. something bad was bound to happen here.

anyways, you settled down at the table in the corner. the one farthest away from anyone else. you’d rather be at home right now, studying in bed. it’s only because your roommate invited her stupid boyfriend over that you ended up here. it’s for the better anyway, though, because in bed you wouldn’t get anything done. you’d be too distracted.

you had your priorities written on your palm, the pen now smudged, making it barely readable. writing on your palm was easier, more convenient than a post-it note. but you wrote it down on paper anyways, incase you sweated more of it off before you finished. it wasn’t likely you would, though. the library was freezing, especially in the winter.

the clack of your fingers typing in your laptop password was the only thing to be heard. everyone else was dead silent. this was probably the only thing you liked about the library, everybody agreed on an unspoken rule, make the least amount of noise possible. you got started with completing your essay after shuffling your playlist, determined to finish by the end of the night.

that’s when she saw you.

or, smelled you? your scent was so strong, it hit ellie hard. her vision went dark and splotchy, and she had to grip onto the table for support. her pearly white hands making a dent in the table with how hard she was holding.

you had to be her next meal. she had to find some way to get you alone and suck your veins dry. it scared her, the thoughts she was having. her intentions weren’t to murder you, but she was starving now. you had unknowingly gotten her high on your scent.

she didn’t even know where you were. were you outside? down the hall? in the library? fuck, right next to her? her head was hurting now, really, really badly. but she needed you even worse.

picking up a random book, she used the most brainpower she could to sniff you out. then, she really saw you. headphones in your ears, your hands typing away at something that won’t even matter soon. soon, she’ll have your body in her arms, hopefully in the comfort of her own home. your neck dripping a puddle on the floor as she relentlessly drank from you, your skin growing cold and your lips turning purple.

her docs made silent footsteps across the floor as she walked toward you. this was something ellie learned to master, silence. especially when she went into hunting mode. nobody looked at her as she expertly dodged the creaks in the old wooden floor. nobody saw her coming. especially you. you never saw ellie williams coming.

“hey, is it okay if i sit here?”

“….sorry, what was that?” you scrambled to pause your music.

“can i sit here?”

“oh. yeah, sure. go ahead.”

you went back to typing, not continuing your music incase she wanted to talk. you really hoped she didn’t. you needed to finish your essay. and you weren’t much of a people person either.

“what are you writing?” she asked.

“just an essay, nothing interesting.”

“oh, cool.”

she started reading the book she picked up before sniffing you out. she didn’t bother to look at the title. or read any of the words either. really, she was just staring at it, her mind racing. she needed to come up with something interesting, something to make you like her.

while she stared at the words, you couldn’t help but stare at her. your fingers came to a complete stop as you admired this stranger across from you. she didn’t even introduce herself, how strange. her hair was a dark brown, her eyes black. her face was incredibly smooth. skin paler than ever, she looked as if she was a marble statue, like she belonged in a museum.

and she was reading twilight, of all books. although, you liked the book, it seemed ironic for her, like she was too mature for it. this beautiful stranger was sitting across from you, her eyebrows pulled together in frustration while she chewed on the inside of her cheek. she seemed furious at something, but at the same time, hard to read.

you were almost scared of her, but intrigued above all else.

“do you like that book?” you asked.

“twilight? yeah. it’s okay. i’ve read it a few times.”

“hmm. it’s a classic.”

“it’s not bad. but i’ve read a lot of books. this one doesn’t come close to the others.”

“so you read a lot? how come i’ve never seen you before?”

“i’m usually hiding. i don’t prefer to engage with others if i can help it.”

“yeah, that explains it.”

she got lucky. thank god, if there even is one, that she grabbed a book you knew about. that you started a conversation with her. she thought it was the most stupid book on earth. it was filth, pure mormon fanfiction. and it was completely wrong.

“why are you here so late? it’s almost midnight.” you asked.

“i could ask you the same question.” she responded.

“i have a lot of work i’ve been procrastinating on. if i could choose, i’d be at home. but my roommate’s boyfriend is there and i can’t stand being in the same building as them.”

“i don’t really know why i’m here. i just like to meet new people i guess.”

“i thought you didn’t like talking to people.”

“that’s different. you’re different.”

“how so? you don’t know who i am, and i don’t even know your name.”

she stared at you blankly. you had her trapped. she suddenly realized that maybe you were harder to get than she expected. maybe you wanted to play this game.

“i’m ellie. it’s short for elizabeth but i hate that name. it’s too common, i’m sick of hearing it.”

“elizabeth is beautiful.”

“thanks. you sound like my parents.”

lie. she didn’t know her parents anymore. they had abandoned her hundreds of years ago after suspecting she was a witch because she refused to get married to a man at only seventeen. after a few years, she was hung.

it wasn’t until her new father, joel, took up an investigation of what happened to poor elizabeth. he ended up traveling to their old village and finding her grave after tracing her obituary back to a newspaper published in 1579.

shed been dead for years. joel was the one who brought her back to life. he injected his venom into her long rotten arms and took her in for the seven years it took for her to come back fully. he saved her. he taught her how to walk, how to speak, how to hunt. joel miller was her new father.

joel used to be a police officer. in 1712, he ran into a poor woman, bleeding and begging for his help. claiming that her husband had turned to satan and was now possessed. the woman had been bitten, she eventually would turn into ellie’s mother, tess. joel got bitten too. all three of them spent the next years as newborns in that small cabin, feasting on whoever was unfortunate enough to wander by.

the woman’s husband didn’t survive. he was caught by a clan of christians and burned alive, leaving just joel and tess, who couldn’t help but fall in love. they adopted more kids before and after ellie too.

abigail was the first. she was living alone in the appalachian mountains, feasting on whoever wandered after sundown. leading poor girls, desperate for a good time, into her bed and then eating them whole. abigail often hung out at lesbian bars. the girls who went home with her never came back. a bartender joked with her about this once, the bartender didn’t come back, either.

joel heard about abigail through the only other coven that lived in washington. they said she was a monster, a relentless murderer trapped in a goddesses body. that she could hold the whole world on her shoulders but couldn’t refrain from eating innocent girls who were cheating on their husbands.

abby and ellie were never really good friends, but they tried. abby preferred to keep to herself. usually either reading or climbing a mountain with her bare hands. and she refused to find a long-term lover. ellie was almost the opposite. she preferred more modern things, like making music and fast cars. and she loved to flirt with girls.

jesse came after ellie. he was born more recently, in 1878. he was dying of a disease nobody knew about. they didn’t have the right knowledge or technology to save him, so they quarantined him in a hospital room until he died. he didn’t, though. joel saved his life. the hospital staff were horrified after seeing the blood stained floor, the splatters over the walls, and more importantly, the fact that jesse’s body was nowhere to be found.

jesse had a wife now, named dina. she met him in 1983 at a prestigious fashion school. jesse had already been to tons of colleges. neither of them aged. they never changed. they were all trapped. after studying medicine, law, physics, engineering, and marketing, he wanted a change.

that’s when he met dina. she was a beautiful woman, deep tan skin, dark eyes, long black hair and eyelashes. and she had such a knack for fashion. jesse was in love, it took him a long while before he came clean to dina about who he was. she was so in love with him too, she didn’t mind it, and she certainly wasn’t scared. dina was never scared of anything.

so they got married. and the night after their wedding, they flew to a private island joel owned for their “honeymoon”. aka, dina’s transformation. they were gone for almost three years. jesse kept a journal of everything that happened to her.

july 12, 1989. i did it. i held her so gently in my arms and sank my teeth into her neck. she was screaming, i know she was in pain, but she’ll never admit it. before she fell asleep, i drank a few of her tears and then closed her eyes. she’ll be twenty six for the rest of her life, until the earth stops spinning. i hope she can forgive me.

december 31, 1989. joel, i got your letter. she’s been doing okay. i can’t stop looking at her, her perfect curves and her deep brown hair. i think it was for the better that i took her dress off before we started, she designed it, it was so beautiful. i know she’d get upset about the red staining the expensive white satin. it’s still here, waiting for her. the year is about to end, we still have quite a few months until she awakes. i’m scared. not of her, of myself. am i a murderer? did i, a cold-blooded demon, destroy a perfect, innocent life? will she remember me?

august 27, 1990. it’s been over a year. nothing, but i know it’s coming. i’ve been holding her head on my lap, stroking her hair. i haven’t moved from this position in three months. she is so beautiful. i redressed her in the outfit she designed for this occasion, it suits her well. a part of me regrets this decision. i wish i could grow old with her, maybe have kids someday. sit on the porch while or grandchildren play in the yard. her eyes wrinkling with the smile she always flashes me. this will never happen. it’s just a dream.

november 16, 1990. she is awake. so much screaming. she’s in pain. won’t even look at me. she is thirsty. will bring her some bird blood to quench her thirst.

november 21, 1990. she only sits and stares at a wall, rocking back and forth. her eyes are white now. don’t know if she is okay. or if she will survive. her throat burns. if she goes, i go.

february, 1991. don’t know what day it is, she has calmed down. she didn’t remember anything at first. not me, not her name, nothing. she remembers now, though. hopefully we can come home this year. i still don’t know if i trust her enough around people. if she is caught, she’ll be burned. if she goes, i go.

may 18, 1991. traveled to a near by island. i taught her how to swim, she loves it. she’s so surprised that she can hold her breath infinitely. she is so beautiful, it’s like falling in love with her all over again. there were people at the island, it was a small village. they were kind, but we had to leave early. i don’t want to push her limits, but she did exceptionally well.

october 4, 1991. on our way home. starting this life forever with her. i hope she can forgive me.

[jogetsobsessed]

Always an Angel - Paul Lahote

Ok, I've been obsessed with the lyric “Always an angel, never a god for a few days now. I don't know why all of a sudden but it's been all I can think about. I know there are a bunch of literal interpretations but I look at it as a version of “always the bridesmaid, never the bride”, always the side character, never the main character. So I hope this comes across how I want it to lol. 

Also, the timeline is kinda messed up in this, just live in ignorant bliss and ignore it pls, and thank you!

---------

Always the option, never the priority. 

Always the bridesmaid, never the bride. 

Always the lover, never the loved. 

Always the fighter, never the fought for. 

Always an angel, never a god. 

------------

You were used to being sidelined, looked right through. 

No matter what you were doing, or who you were with, you were never the main focus. 

Growing up boys never spared you a glance, your best friends being the main targets for their glances and flirty remarks. You were never the one asked to dance, always the one asked to hold a friend's purse or bag. If the car was full on the way to get ice cream, you were always the one that was going to be left out. You never learned inside jokes and standing alone at parties, you didn't even know why you went, it's not like anyone would notice if you left anyway. 

At night when you would break and confide in the one person you knew truly loved you she would always question why you remained friends with the people that caused you so much pain. And through your blubbering, you would look at her like she was crazy. Explain to your mother that it must have been too long since she was a teenager. Because that's not how it works. Living in a small town the pool of potential friends is small, and having friends that treat you horribly is better than having no friends at all. 

You would apologize to her years later, after maturing, and realizing that the remarks you directed towards her were uncalled for. The anger you threw her way was misguided and unfair. She didn't deserve the way that you treated her. 

When Bella Swan moved to town you thought everything was going to change. She was from a big city, you didn't know much about Phoenix but you knew they probably didn't harbor the same small-town mindset that Forks did. 

She had no clue who you were. She didn't know the unspoken reputation that hung above your head like a storm cloud. 

And at first, you were right. 

The two of you became friends quickly, Bella taking a liking to your quiet demeanor, such a drastic change from Jessica and her goons. 

Your friendship appeared surface-level, to everyone but the two of you. In school, you both kept to yourselves and didn't talk much, even to each other. You would drag her along with you when you gathered the strength to hang out with your old friends. But you didn't do that often, seeing as they saw her as a shiny new toy and didn't treat her as a second-class citizen. 

But after school the two of you would talk, your friendship would come alive in the comfort of your own homes, and you two would look like actual teenage girls and not two seventeen-year-olds who should be on the highest dose of Lexapro. 

She was the first person that you saw as a true friend, that was until she committed, in your opinion, a cardinal sin. 

Bella had gone off the deep end and you hadn't seen her in days. But that was normal, she would spiral, skip school, and then show up as if nothing happened. So you weren't concerned, sent her a few texts checking up on her and getting one-word responses back. Then the following Monday came around. You were waiting by your truck, lazily twirling your hair, eyes glazed over as you dissociated waiting for the bell to ring. 

But amid your dissociation, you were pulled back to reality when a shiny black Volvo came to a screeching halt a row over. You knew who drove the expensive car so you tried to be as nonchalant as possible as you peered over your shoulder to get a good look at the owner. 

You wished you hadn't. 

Because getting out of the passenger seat was the person that you considered your best friend. Your best friend was sitting in the passenger seat of the car of the guy you had a crush on since he arrived at Forks High School. 

She knew about your long-standing crush on Edward, she was the only person other than your mother who you had told. It came tumbling off your tongue one late night about a month after she had arrived in town. And you had sworn her to secrecy, begging her to never tell another soul. 

But now it seemed to not matter, she had broken your trust and your heart. 

------------------

The next year drug on. With Bella being completely infatuated with Edward you were left to crawl back to your old friends. They accepted you with barely open arms, reluctantly saving you a seat at the lunch table, sometimes sending you the location for Friday night activities. 

When the Cullen clan abruptly left Forks Bella did to you exactly what you had done to your friends months earlier. Part of you didn't know why, but you let her back in, although this time keeping her at an arm's length away, never fully trusting her, 

Eventually, however, Edward came back. First making his appearance walking hand in hand with Bella in the dreadful hallways of Forks High School after she had disappeared yet again for a few days with not even a courtesy text. 

This time seeing them together didn't feel like a hot knife was piercing your skin. How could it, you no longer felt the same that you had for Edward. Because he had proven himself to be just like everyone else. He made you feel invisible. 

------------

The heat of late spring had arrived and you took in all the warmth that you could as you walked down the small rocky path to the mailbox. Graduation had come and gone and you found yourself in isolation. The people you had forced yourself to be friends with in high school no longer mattered. You didn't have to play the uncertain game of high school politics anymore. Starting university was on the horizon and while you dreaded leaving the comfort of home you were excited, this was going to be your chance to reinvent yourself. You were no longer going to be the person no one cared to look towards. 

Pulling out the various envelopes you felt your heart stop beating when the light lilac envelope was pulled to the front. You knew what it was, you didn't even have to open it. But you did, ripping it open, praying that you hadn't torn apart the coveted invitation. Sure enough in bold letters, you read “Edward Anthony Masen Cullen and Isabella Marie Swan request your presence…”. 

The phone call with Bella that night was awkward. You haven't talked much since graduation but she assured you that she wanted you to be at the wedding. You had wanted to push and ask her why she was rushing to get married. I mean you along with everyone else knew that they had only known each other for a year and hadn't been dating for the entirety of said year. But she sounded happy, the happiest she had ever seemed. So you didn't say anything, instead prying for details about the impending nuptials. 

-------------

Thousands of flowers cascaded down creating a custom perfume in the air. Your eyes darted between the bunches of wisteria and sweet peas and you were in awe. The wedding had snuck up on you. So much had happened over the summer leaving you feeling unprepared to start school in the fall. Leaving you to make one of the hardest choices that you had ever made, deferring your acceptance into your top school to the following fall quarter. 

So when you got a reminder on your phone that read “Bella and Edward wedding tmr” you were at a loss for words. I mean you had everything you physically needed, a dress, a present, the right pair of shoes. But you had forgotten one important thing, a date. 

It wasn't going to be the first time you had shown up to an event without one, but it was probably going to feel the most embarrassing. 

So here you were, standing next to your group of “friends'' from high school as they gossiped about the possibility of Bella being pregnant. “What do you think?”Erik asked you, giving your arm a soft nudge with his. “I don't know guys '. Jessica of course had a counter, pointing out that out of the group you were the closest with her. Luckily before you had to come up with an excuse of why you didn't know for certain the music began, signaling that it was time for everyone to turn their attention to the altar. 

A few tears managed to slip down your cheeks as you watched your sometimes best friend say “I do”. In that moment all the turbulent times the two of you experienced didn't matter. You were just happy to be in the presence of two people who were madly in love and confessing it to each other, permanently sealing their love with a dramatic kiss. 

The reception area was decorated equally as beautiful. You were grateful that Bella, or more likely Alice had set you close to the dance floor. That way you could watch people without feeling like a total loser, hanging out in the corner by yourself. At least this way you could still enjoy the happiness of the other guests without feeling the gross amount of body heat from the dancing bodies. 

The ice was melting quickly in your lemonade, the night had not been rewarded with a cool late summer breeze so you were appreciative of the cool drink. The night had seemingly been going according to plan. Your ‘friends’ had migrated to another table across the dance floor with the excuse of wanting to talk to some of the other guests, but they had not returned in almost two hours so you were holding your breath. 

Mentally you were planning your escape plan, glancing at your watch. Waiting for an acceptable time to leave, not too early into the night but not too late that you were leaving only minutes before the bride and groom's big exit. As you granted yourself yet another glance at the heirloom watch you wore and looked back up a gasp unwillingly left your lips. 

The mystery man, who looked almost familiar, chuckled at your surprised look. Confidently he took the empty seat next to yours, turning his body to give you his full attention. “May I help you”, you didn't recognize your own words, your tone was a bit rude and you didn't even give him a second to introduce himself after she sat. 

“I’m Paul Lahote”. 

Once he gave his name to you your eyes moved up to meet him and the electric shock that you felt in your veins almost felt real. There was no doubt blush forming on every inch of your face and you were praying that the low light of the Edison bulbs did a good job at protecting some of your dignity. You gave him your name, barely squeaking out your last name. 

Things like this didn't happen to you. A man that looked like him didn't talk to you. A part of you wondered if Jessica or someone like her had already turned him down, because let's face it, you were always the option but never the priority. 

“I think you should share a dance with me, no pretty girl like you should be sitting alone at a wedding”. The flare in your cheeks was visible now, you were sure of it. No matter how low the light was you could have sworn a red glow was emitting from your body, like an accusing halo. 

“Paul…you don't have to dance with me, I was just getting ready to leave”. Gathering your belongings as you begin to stand up. “No!”. He said, eyebrows raising to the top of his forehead once he realized how loud he exclaimed. Sheepishly he looked around offering small smiles as an apology to a few of the guests who looked at him like he had three heads. 

“Please, I noticed you when I walked in before the ceremony and I haven't been able to shake you from my eyeline all night. I don’t think I can take no for an answer”. 

The fact that your heart was still caged behind your chest was an act of god. Because at this point it should have flown away due to how hard it was beating. You were at a loss for words. The thought that someone was putting you first, taking interest in you was unbearable. And you were crumbling at his gaze. 

His outstretched hand found yours that you slowly had begun to uncurl from against your body. Swiftly he whisked you out onto the dance floor, pulling your body flush to his. 

Clumsily your feat matched his falling into routine with his steps, your body swaying in unison to the light melody. He hummed along softly to the quiet music as he kept a firm grip on you, almost like he was afraid to let you go. 

The song ended and awkwardly you looked around not knowing what to do. Paul however looked happy as can be, letting go of your hand but keeping the one on your lower back in place. He led you back to the table where you had spent most of the night, pulling out your chair before you could even react. You thanked him as you sunk into the back of the chair trying to ground yourself. 

“Man, I feel like the luckiest guy here at this whole damn wedding I got to dance with the prettiest guest of them all”. He said matter-of-factly triumphantly, taking a sip out of the glass he abandoned when he first approached your table. You scoffed, there was no way he was being for real, the alcohol had to have been getting to him now if he was saying such an untrue statement. 

“I think you've had enough”. Your voice was shy and your eyes barely peeked through your almost closed eyelids. The embarrassment you hadn't felt earlier had returned and you were suddenly hyper-conscious of everything happening around you. 

“Doll this stuff doesn't make me feel anything, you, however, are making me feel alive for the first time”. His drink was abandoned yet again as he scooted his chair closer, invading your bubble, and causing you to squirm under his gaze yet again. 

“Paul, I'm flattered but again I think your choices are impaired. There's no way you feel anything like that for me”. 

Paul was out of his chair before you could continue your babbling, cutting you off by capturing your lips in his. 

After he pulled back for air his forehead rested against yours, the two of you matching your breathing. You were yet again at a loss for words, kissing the hottest boy at your best friend's wedding was not on this year's bingo card. But as per usual it seems Paul had the perfect thing to say, “My angel forgive me if this is forward, but l you need to let me love you, I have a feeling that you're gonna be stuck with me for a long time”.

[livingthedragonlife]

honestly something so brilliantly exemplified by the winged lion's whole... Thing... and dungeon meshi as a whole of course is that what you want is not necessarily what you need. having what you desire will not necessarily solve the problem you want it to solve.

mithrun wanted a second chance with the one he loved, a second chance at the imagined life and happiness he thought it would bring him. what he needed was to move on and find happiness elsewhere -- which he realizes by the end of the story, but too late to stop him from becoming a "leftover" dungeon lord.

thistle wants nobody he loves to ever die again, protect his country and its people. the lion gives them all immortality and "safety" within the dungeon. and they're all miserable and hate it and some of them die trying to escape. thistle ends up killing the people he wanted to save when they act out against him. what he needs is to accept the reality of loss and tragedy, to face the fact that nobody can avoid death and sometimes bad things happen for no reason. that doesn't make life pointless, it makes life meaningful.

marcille wants something similar, for everyone to live the same length as her so she'll never be alone, or have to see everyone she loves grow old and frail. but like laios points out, she'd be making the exact same mistake as thistle. she'd be forcing everyone on the PLANET to live according to her whims, whether or not they actually want to. there's a common theme here of refusing to accept loss, instead moving around it, trying to find a reality in which bad things will never ever happen.

laios wants to become a monster. humans are cruel and unpredictable and not nearly as interesting to him. life as a monster would be so much better than being a person, he doesn't fit in with other humans anyway, he'd be better off as some ultimately powerful creature, and never have to feel hurt by humanity ever again. sound familiar?

it's all unprocessed trauma babey. your trauma brain does not know what is good for you, even if it sounds appealing. even if it sounds like the exact thing that will fix your life. even if avoiding pain forever seems more doable than learning to live with it.

because if all you have is that one desire, who are you when it's taken from you?

[asliceofzosan]

because i woke up today still thinking of zosan's baby girl, here are some stuff about it that are now my roman empire:

none. i repeat NONE OF THESE STRAW HATS know how to hold a baby. sanji figured it out due to dormant maternal instincts alone. and more than half the time he has to yell at everyone to not hold her up by the calf or the ankles ("i'm looking at you luffy please for the love of the all blue do NOT gum gum whip her around like a toy—")

unlike both her dads, ayari is actually being extremely picky with food in the beginning. she hates certain textures and cries like its the end of the world when her baby food isn't heated to the right temperature. funnily enough, one of the few times she ate something she didn't want is if chopper is next to her eating the same thing and telling her its yummy. dw none of the baby food goes to waste. they're all re-used somehow in the week's menu. or zoro just ends up eating it.

ussop made a lil wrap around cloth for ayari so that sanji could cook while carrying her hands free. or zoro could have her strapped onto his back and nap while he does pushups.

robin could be seen reading books to ayari when both zoro and sanji are out cold and exhausted from being first time parents. one or both of them would wake up to find robin telling little ayari histories of the islands they visit, or the countries they've saved. she tones down some of the darker elements until she's old enough to grasp it. ayari grows up with auntie robin's love of wanting to know the world.

nami started doing her makeup with ayari on her lap. she shows all the different little products to her, letting her touch her brushes and everything. nami even "does ayari's makeup" too aka she just tickles her face with the brushes and pretends to put makeup on her so she feels like she's doing it too. when she's a little older, ayari asks sanji to join them and more often than not, sanji is making lunch with a full face of makeup done by ayari.

ayari's teething toy is a little plastic mouth sword. zoro is infinitely happy about it.

in the beginning, sanji tried to take up most of the parental responsibilities up until the point that he got too sick to even stand. he was stressed and exhausted beyond belief, actually pushing zoro away a lot. but when he collapses one day sporting a fever that was highly too reminiscent of when nami was sick after little garden, it scares him enough to finally seek zoro out for help.

and its not like zoro has not Tried to take the load off. its just that sanji was still fighting all his repressed feelings for zoro and this undue pressure hes put on himself to become a better parent than judge ever was to him. that he could raise this child with love and attention and devotion, completely forgetting that hes not the only parent.

zoro and sanji have a heartfelt talk about how the wish that was granted on that island was a blessing beyond belief. that theres a reason ayari looks like both of them. that she takes after both of them.

they both wished for this child in the deepest depths of their hearts. they wanted not just to be together but to have someone that grows up loved by them. cared for by them. not a restart or a replacement for a lost loved one like they first thought it was. but a child who sees them — zoro and sanji — and will one day wish to have a love like theirs.

oh also "luffy" is ayari's first word because zoro and sanji say it so often to stop their captain from doing dangerous shit while he's holding her. in line with that, her second word is "stop" so the first sentence she ever says is "luffy stop!"

the crew are hysterical over it. sanji stares into the void bc he wished for ayari's first word to be "dada"

he settles with the little joy of her fourth word being "marimo"

because her third word was "curly" (something he nearly strangled zoro for)

[gurugirl]

Cat Man | a Don’t Stand So Close extra

Summary: This is a sweet little Halloween extra for the series Don't Stand So Close. Featuring a little trick-or-treating, three costumes, and some Mommy & Daddy alone time.

Warning: 18+ only, smut, fluff, daddy kink (as always), age gap

Word Count: 3.8k

Don't Stand So Close masterlist

When Starla and Paul got pregnant Harry and I were so beyond excited for the pair. We would have a little friend for James to play with, and though James was a bit older, they’d be growing up together. They’d plan their wedding after the baby was born.

The only issue I faced with this amazing news was that it meant I would be a step-grandmother. At the ripe old age of 27. Harry thought it was funny and Starla was unconcerned about it as she was focused on her new life and not my feelings.

Along with that, we navigated the odd naming of the relationship between Starla and James as delicately as we knew how. Technically they were half siblings. We opted to say auntie and nephew… but in the end, the confusion wouldn’t be worth the façade once James got older. Whatever people thought of the setup was none of our concern. Or it shouldn’t have been.

But to think I’d be becoming a grandmother?

“Hottest grandma on the planet.” Harry laughed.

I scoffed and sat down on the couch with James crawling over me and asking for another bite of cake we’d brought back from the baby shower.

It had been a long day. I helped Starla and Angela get everything ready. Starla mostly sat and pointed but it was nice to spend a little time with her. I felt thankful that she took me up on my offer to help.

We still had a bit of awkwardness between us. I was sure we’d never get back to how things were when we were best friends. And slowly things got better but my penance would always be the loss of that precious relationship as it was once upon a time.

“Mama. Cake!” James stood on my lap with his knees jammed into my ribs as he pointed toward the kitchen where the bit of cake we brought back was sitting on the counter.

“Not right now, honey,” I grunted as I lifted him away from my ribs. The little guy was solid and heavy. He had no idea that jumping on me or standing on me was uncomfortable. Don’t get me wrong. I love that my baby enjoys being close to me all the time… but ow.

Harry leaned over and took him from my hands, “Let’s sit like a good boy and we’ll put on something to watch.”

The cartoon was bright and loud and obnoxious but somehow all three of us wound up falling asleep on the couch together after one episode.

When I woke up the sky was dark and both Harry and James were asleep sitting upright, heads leaned back into the cushion behind them, mouths dropped open, hands in their lap. Twins. I couldn’t get over just how alike they were. They even looked so much alike that it was scary. Old pictures of Harry, when he was James’ age, proved they were identical.

Gently lifting James into my arms I held him close and kissed the top of his head to put him into bed. I hated having him get into bed in his day clothes but it was not worth the hassle of waking him up to change him into pajamas. Another wonderful little thing about James was that he was a heavy sleeper just like his father. Would conk out and stay that way if you let him.

But the difference was that I needed to wake Harry because carrying him to our bedroom was out of the question.

“Harry…” I squeezed his arm and leaned in to kiss the top of his head, “Let’s go to bed, big guy.”

His eyes opened and he inhaled a deep breath before stretching his arms overhead, “You put James down already?”

I nodded, “Yep. Now time to put you in bed.”

Six hours.

That’s how long we got to sleep before James was bouncing in between Harry and me. I counted the hour and a half we were asleep on the couch watching cartoons the night before but it was rare to have more than six hours of uninterrupted sleep at a time. James just had some kind natural of alarm that only allowed Mom and Dad six hours at a time.

I rolled over and pulled James down, “Shhh… let’s sleep a little longer, baby. Look Daddy’s still sleeping too.”

“Cat man!” James excitedly shrieked.

Cat man. Or really, he meant Batman. It was his Halloween costume. Halloween was in a few more days and he’d been obsessed with it. I let him run around in it at home. And I mean, who could blame him? It was an awesome costume complete with a mask and a cape. I loved watching him run back and forth with the cape flying behind him. Who knew something as simple as a Batman costume could occupy a three-year-old for hours on end?

Harry sighed and rolled toward the commotion; his handsome face turned toward me with a smile. He brought his hand up to my face and spoke in his deep morning voice, “Love you.”

“Love you too.”

~~

James had been crying and throwing a fit to wear the costume all morning but we really wanted to have him wait until it was trick-or-treat time.

All morning we heard him screeching, “I’m cat man! Cat man!” and “I want cat man!”

We’d given up on correcting him to say Batman. Harry tried at first but James was sure cat man and Batman were the same thing. So we let it be.

We’d also given up on having him wait until it was time for trick-or-treating to let him put on his cat man costume. He was in distress, poor guy, so we folded. And anyway, why did it matter if he wore it before we left the house?

“Okay, Mr. Bruce Wayne. Are you ready to dawn your superhero costume and go fight bad guys?” Harry asked James animatedly.

Siggy and Jared were coming by to help us with trick or treating and then after they were bringing James to their place to have him stay for two nights. Harry and I were desperate for alone time. A full night’s sleep. Sex without a bouncy boy walking in.

Harry was dressed up as a cowboy. Only because it was easy. Jeans with a brown button-up shirt a green vest, and a cowboy hat. I was dressed as a red devil. Red leggings, a red long-sleeved shirt (that to my dismay did not match the red shade of the leggings as well as I thought it would), and a headband with horns. Also easy.

I remember the days when I used to go all out for Halloween. I figured this was pretty good for two adults who were looking more forward to getting home after the events than the actual event itself.

James filled his plastic pumpkin full of junk and he was as happy as ever. His overnight bag was already packed when we met up with my parents at the park and walked around to the houses nearby to go door-to-door.

James was in his element. Running from house to house with his little cat man cape waving in the wind. The four adults watched him bounce up to the houses and scream at the top of his lungs, “Trick or treat!!” to everyone who answered the door.

“Have you two thought of giving him a little brother or sister?” Jared said as we walked back to our cars.

This wasn’t the first time they’d brought this up. I rolled my eyes and Harry just laughed. There was no reason to answer them. They knew what our answer would be. That it was our decision and if we ever decided to have another they’d be the first to know.

James loved overnights at his grandma and grandpa’s house. I was sure it was because they let him sleep with them in their bed, let him stay up as late as he wanted, and fed him macaroni and cheese and candy bars. So it was no surprise to Harry and me when James held onto Siggy’s hand and followed her toward their car without a single pout.

“Behave for Papa and Gran okay? They’re gonna tell us if you’re not being nice,” Harry knelt to look James in the eye and James nodded dramatically.

I sighed as they drove off with my little boy. I loved having some space and alone time with my husband but it didn’t make me miss James any less every time they took him.

Harry put his hand on my knee, “Ready to get home, Mommy?”

Putting my hand over Harry’s I grinned with a laugh, “Of course, Daddy.”

.           .           .

We’d gotten a bottle of wine and had leftovers ready to go. I also snuck a stash of James’ candy for us for later.

Entering our home, Harry locked the door and then grabbed my hips, pulling my back into his chest before I could move away, “Where are you going, little devil?”

I snickered a laugh and turned my head to look at him, “Was gonna change out of this lame Halloween costume. Come with me, Daddy?”

Harry needed no prodding. I slid my leggings off and Harry sat at the edge of the bed, his cowboy hat lying next to him on the mattress.

“Aren’t you gonna change?”

Harry smirked and shrugged his shoulder, “Take your top off but leave the horns.”

I gave him a side-eye look and smiled as I peeled my shirt off. He made no move to get out of his own clothes.

“Bra, panties. Off,” he said as he leaned back onto his palms and crossed his legs in front of him as he watched.

I grinned at him and kept my eyes on his as I unplucked my bra and pulled my panties down. The small groan that fell from his throat had me blushing a bit. I’d never get tired of the way he adored my body and me.

Readjusting the devil horn headband, I faced him with a brow raised, “Okay. Did what you said.”

Harry leaned forward and grabbed my hand, pulling me toward him until I was in between his legs which he’d spread. He moved his hands up over my breasts and kept his eyes on mine, “Ever been fucked by a cowboy?” He smirked as he asked.

A scoff fell from my lips as I put my hands in his hair, “Don’t think so. Why? Does this cowboy want fuck his little devil?” I figured I’d play along. Harry enjoyed lots of playing when it came to sex and with James out of the house, we could really play.

Harry growled and leaned in to wrap his pink lips around my nipple. The moan into my flesh sent goosebumps down my torso and I felt his hands lower to my bum. He squeezed firmly and spread my cheeks, keeping his mouth on my tits.

He looked up at me from his spot and pulled his lips off my breast, “I want you to pull my cock out and suck. Wanna see what the little she-devil can do with that mouth.”

“Fuck,” I breathed out as I stepped back and then pressed my knees into the rug to kneel between his legs. He spread his thick thighs apart as I grasped onto the waistband of his jeans and began to unbutton.

To my delight, my horny husband was not wearing underwear and he was already nice and hard for me. Anyone who tells you men in their 40s can’t get it up easily is dead wrong. Harry has proven to me time and time again that he’s more than capable of rising to the occasion. Though he won’t be in his 40s for much longer, you’d really never know. He’s still the sexiest man I’ve ever seen. A fucking body like a divine being. Strong and buff, tall… But it’s his eyes. The attention he gives you. He has a genuine hunger to listen and give you all of his attention. And that’s just so attractive to me that even his amazing physique pales in comparison to the way he looks at me when I’m talking.

“Ooh, Daddy…” I mewled as I pulled at him and stroked his hard prick, pulling him from the confines of his jeans. I gave him a few good pulls before I leaned in and spit over his ruddy tip, smoothing my saliva down his shaft before looking up at him and then taking him in my mouth.

One thing about being with a well-endowed man is that you can train to take them after some time.

I had struggled with how thick and long he was at the beginning but as the years have gone on I have learned just how to get him snug in my throat. Not always with ease, but it can be done and I typically can achieve getting my nose stuffed into the thatch of hair at his base every time I give him head.

Harry moaned above me and I felt him gather my hair behind my head as I bobbed over him. I tried keeping my eyes upward but his little nudge at the back of my head pushed me down further over his cock making it hard to peek up at him.

I swallowed around his tip and gurgled just before he pulled me off by my hair.

He slid back into the bed and put his cowboy hat on, leaning against the headboard he patted his thighs.

“Think it’s time for a ride.”

I laughed as I climbed after him and settled over his lap, “I like this,” I flicked at his cheap dollar-store cowboy hat.

Harry smirked as he pulled at me and placed his thumb through my crease.

“Gotta make sure you’re ready for this ride first. Sink down, baby,” Harry laughed a few of the words as he spoke but then suddenly his expression changed from cheekiness to thoughtful and intense.

I breathed a laugh and bent my knees, nudging myself over his thumb to sink down on it. I placed my hands on his shoulders and rocked into his knuckles, “Am I doing it right?”

“Got my thumb inside your hole didn’t you? I’d say it’s right. Now,” Harry pushed his thumb upward harder and used his other hand to rub over my clit, “move those hips and fuck my thumb, baby.”

“Yes, Daddy…” I spoke softly and began clenching and rocking myself over his thumb and into the fingers, he was using on my clit.

I knew he was trying to make me feel a little embarrassed, a little vulnerable. Sometimes he liked making a spectacle and then commenting on how desperate for him I am. But he did it because he knew what it did to me. Knew how much it turned me on.

In fact, it was already becoming obvious how much I liked it given how wet his entire hand was, as well as the gushy little sound of me fucking myself onto his thick thumb.

“Knew the little devil would like something like this. Rub your cunt over Daddy’s cock now, baby. Show me how wet you got for my thumb.”

Harry gripped my hips to steady me, his damp fingers smearing over my skin as he held me and I settled my pussy onto his exposed cock. He was still fully dressed with only his pants open.

He remained stoic and unbothered by me which had me feeling that pathetic desperation so I breathed out a laugh and began to slick myself over him.

Suddenly the smack of his hand on my ass had me yelping as I gripped his shoulders tight.

“What’s funny, then? Hmm?” He asked me with a straight face.

I breathed out a shaky breath and tried to lean in to kiss him but he issued me another spanking to my other side.

He let go of my hip and squeezed my cheeks together. I could smell myself on his fingers, “Asked you a question, my love. S’rude not to answer.” He was working hard now to hide his smirk. The very ghost of dimples began to dip into his cheeks as he asked me to answer him once more.

He released my cheeks and wrapped his big palm around the front of my neck, raising his brows. A gesture for me to answer him, “I was feeling a little embarrassed and I got a little giggly,” I spoke honestly. But he knew this already. Knew that every time I felt embarrassed somehow it got me excited and I’d start to feel giggly.

“Aww, poor thing. What’s got you embarrassed baby? Didn’t realize the devil herself could all feel shy when she gets wet over a thumb.”

Blinking my eyes and nodding I smiled and put my hands up his jaw admiring his handsome face, “Will you fuck me, Daddy? I’m so horny for you. Been waiting for this all week. Please put me out of my misery.”

Harry fluttered his eyes closed for a moment before squeezing around my neck softly, “Well hop on then, honey.” His voice was deep and full of lust. I knew he was desperate too. We had plenty of time to play but if he was as achy as I was, I knew he’d be folding quickly.

I grinned as I lifted up and stuck my pussy right to his tip, “Just wanted to feel you and make you come,” I moaned as I pressed him inside of me. Always a tight fit into my entrance, his cock felt delicious.

“Yeah? Little devil wants my come? Well, go on then. Fuck it outta me.”

We moaned in unison as I lowered until I was sat over him, the fabric of his jeans being wetted slightly.

“Yes, Daddy… ooohh,” rocking my hips over him and then planting my feet flat onto the mattress so I could give him a good show, I leaned back and placed my hands at his thighs and gripped tight over his jeans as I lifted and lowered my pussy down over him, “Gonna fuck the come out of your cock.”

Harry groaned and put his hands on the underside of my thighs to help me lift upward as he watched my pussy slide up and down his thigh shaft.

“Fuck, baby. Oh my god…” he breathed his words as he leaned his head back into the headboard, making his cowboy hat prop forward before he tore it from his head and tossed it away.

He watched my body move up and down. His dick was shiny with my arousal as he began to buck upward slightly, causing me to lose my balance. I leaned forward and put my hands onto his shoulders to keep steady with a laugh.

We both chuckled at the whole scene. Harry’s nuisance of a cowboy hat, me losing my balance, the devil horns on my head…

Soon Harry had his knees bent and he slid down a bit for leverage to fuck into me from below.

We were both moaning and panting as we moved together. My knees were dug into the mattress as I ground myself over him and Harry used his position to lift himself into me deeply, knocking me upward at each thrust.

He put his hands on my tits and groaned, “You gonna come on Daddy’s cock?”

I was already beginning to shake and clench. He knew I was close. I reached my hand down between us and began to rub myself and nodded, “Yes! M’gonna come!”

Harry’s mouth dropped open and I knew the look. Deep concentration. He was in that mode where he was holding off his orgasm for mine. He was good at it, too. Because he always had me coming first no matter what.

“Shit… Anna, come on Daddy’s cock, honey! Fucking feels so good. Squeezing around me like that…” his words were pinched and whiney.

I kept my eyes on his as I rocked over him quickly, chasing my quickly approaching high. Moaning desperately and whimpering, I finally felt that magic spark unfurl in my tummy.

Harry coughed out his words when he could tell I was coming, “That’s it, Anna. Make yourself feel good with Daddy’s cock… Ahhhh…” he clenched his jaw, still holding off as long as he possibly could. But then he stilled his hips and held me down over him.

I felt the throb of cock as he pumped inside of me with a deep groan.

With his tight hold on my hips, I could only rock back and forth to finish myself off, moaning and panting in ecstasy.

I slumped into his chest as he softly moaned and we lay together until we’d both come back to the present.

Harry’s big hand smoothed up and down my back and I felt his wet lips at my temple, “Just what I needed. But you know that’s just the beginning of what you’re in for these next two nights, right?”

I could hear the grin in his voice as he spoke. I pushed myself back to look at him, “Oh really? The old man’s gonna be able to go another round, then?”

Harry puffed out a laugh and popped my thigh, “You better behave.”

“Or what?”

Shaking his head in disbelief he pushed me off his lap, causing my back to hit the mattress, and hovered over me, placing a palm over my neck to hold me down, “I’m twice your size. Just imagine the damage I could do to you. And if you’re really bad I won’t let you come at all. So you better listen to Daddy and do what he says.”

I bit my lip and nodded before pulling him down to bring his mouth to mine.

Harry laughed into the kiss before making me get up so we could clean up.

It’s funny how I used to spend Halloween; all dressed up at some haunted house-themed party or a themed club when Starla used to drag me with her. My favorite was always staying in and watching a scary movie or reading a good book. As opposed to these days where I take my three-year-old trick-or-treating and then end the night with sex, leftovers, a horror movie, and a bottle of wine with my husband.

I felt like we’d already gotten the night off to a good start but I knew he wasn’t lying when he said that was just the beginning. If anything Harry’s high libido and mine meant we might not be getting the kind of sleep we’d anticipated. Which sounded exactly like what I needed.

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[heeliumhaze-elle]

close friends

「synopsis」 — after running into her extremely toxic ex at jake's birthday party last year, y/n seemed to disappear off the face of the planet. the only traces of her were her instagram story posts during her month-long trip to the states at the start of the new year. but other than that, no one had seen or heard from her since that night in november. the boys have speculated that it was because of the run-in with k all those months ago; however, when something y/n posts on her 'close friends' story begins to circulate through their group, they grow increasingly suspicious and angry over their speculations. ... except something about all of this doesn't sit right with heeseung. 「warnings」 — mc suffers from depression & struggles with thoughts of suicide, the boys are kinda petty assholes imo, cursing. please dm me if i missed anything! 「word count」 — 4923 words 「author's note」 — lowercase intended. only slightly proofread. no real plot, rushed ending - like seriously i didn't know how to end it so i just did... this is my first story, so i'm really nervous, lol. this is all fictional. the way the idols are portrayed in this story does not reflect how i view them by any means. 「dedication」 — this story is dedicated to my friend ani - may you always remember that you are never alone, not anymore.

"can you fucking believe her?" asked sunghoon, staring at the screenshot on jungwon's phone.

jake and jay agreed, peering over sunghoon's shoulder to get a better look at the photo. sunoo, who sat opposite the 02z, let out a tired sigh while ni-ki, who sat on the tabletop between jake and sunoo, massaged his temples. meanwhile, jungwon looked at his hyungs uneasily. heeseung wondered if he regretted asking if y/n was okay.

heeseung kept his gaze fixed on his friends as they continued to skim through the now-infamous screenshot.

"literally though, like what the fuck are we then?" ni-ki asked. "how dare she."

"god, no! and then to re-add us to her 'close friends' as if nothing happened," jay added. "like jungwon wouldn't have said anything to us."

"right?" sunoo said, rolling his eyes as he read through the post. "as if he wasn't going to tell us! like hello? he's our best friend!"

"it's like it was about us," jake said. "i'm not here to play these games. if she has a fucking problem with us, she needs to just fucking say so. we're not in high school anymore!"

"... well, except ni-ki," muttered sunoo.

jungwon let out a nervous sigh. "guys, i didn't mean to start anything-."

"no!" jay interrupted. "jake's right. we're all old enough. she needs to use her fucking words. she has a problem with us, just fucking say so. don't fucking act like we're all 'good' when it's clearly about us."

"because what the hell did we ever do to her?" sunghoon demanded.

all the while, jungwon's phone was making its rounds to each of the boys. and soon, the phone was in heeseung's hands. he was finally able to read the screenshot that started this entire uproar.

... and he was gutted.

"my sleep schedule is so fucked as of lately. all i do is lay in bed for 85-90% of my day. i can't keep pretending i'm jet-lagged from my trip to the states. i desperately crave to get out of the house to do things with other people, but i literally have no friends here — outside the ones that i made at work. even when i try to do things on my own, it's just so mentally taxing that i end up sleeping for 24+ hours after attempting to make myself feel better. it's a lot, i guess.

"... if i wasn't so afraid of death and dying, then maybe-."

heeseung felt his heart drop. he forced himself to stop reading; he couldn't continue, knowing that's where y/n's mind went.

how long had y/n been feeling this way? was there truth in what the other boys were saying? was this post about them?

shaking his head, heeseung refocused his attention on his friends. they all sat around him, angered by the post that y/n had made just the day before. the only person - save for himself - who wasn't mad about what y/n posted was jungwon. but heeseung couldn't tell if that was because he was still able to view her close friends story on instagram or if jungwon was genuinely worried about y/n.

even if the post was about them, heeseung told himself that that was the least of their concerns. the only thing that mattered to him (and he was surprised that his friends didn't seem to think similarly on the subject) was how y/n felt.

as the others went on to bash y/n for posting that and not being upfront with them about her feelings, heeseung handed jungwon back his phone.

"like honestly, i thought we were friends. what is her problem?" sunghoon circled back.

heeseung stood from his seat at the park table, white-knuckled fists suddenly clenched at his side. he startled the others with how abruptly he got up, but he didn't seem to care. "are you all fucking hearing yourself right now?"

"did you not just see what she posted yesterday?" jay asked.

ni-ki looked up at his hyung and added, "and she's so messy for re-adding us to her close friends list. if it wasn't for jungwon hyung, we wouldn't have ever seen this. so i bet she thinks she got away with talking shit about us like that."

"that's exactly what she was thinking!" jake chimed in.

heeseung didn't stay to hear what his insensitive friends had to say next. he simply told the five of them to "fuck off" and bid jungwon goodbye before storming off from the scene. as he neared his car, he reached for his phone from his back pocket; he wanted to text y/n. he needed to! however, upon closer inspection, he realized that his phone was out of battery. and of course, today was the day his car's charging cable broke!

groaning to himself, heeseung let himself into his vehicle and just drove. with his phone dead, there was no way for him to reach y/n to give her the heads-up that he'd be arriving anytime soon... but he also figured - given what he had read only minutes and minutes ago - that she would be home regardless.

his thoughts drifted back to y/n. he kept wondering how long she had been feeling that way. he wondered if she felt lonely because while she was locked away in her apartment, the rest of them were still going to each other's houses and planning group excursions... excursions, heeseung came to realize, that y/n wasn't invited to.

fuck! he thought as he came to a red light. if that post truly was about him and the rest of the guys, was it not deserved? he thought back to all the times that they went out without inviting y/n and he wondered if her fomo eventually got so bad she thought that they had silently kicked her out of the friend group. no... there's no way she thought that! right? y/n had a lot more sense than to think that a few outings without her meant that they no longer wanted to be her friend. right?!

the light stayed red as heeseung's mind swirled with several different thoughts. there was more to the post. heeseung knew that. granted, he didn't read it as thoroughly as his friends had, but he had skimmed through it quickly enough. the others were so hung up on the fact that y/n said she didn't have any friends; heeseung also guessed they were angry over the little bits of text that followed her dark thoughts. but... was she wrong to say all those things? the other seemed to think so. so much so that they completely ignored the blatant cry for help that was the entirety of y/n's post.

when the light finally turned green, heeseung couldn't stop thinking about the first line of the last paragraph. "...if i wasn't so afraid of death and dying, then maybe all of this would be so much easier."

in the three years that heeseung had gotten to know y/n, he had to admit that he was very aware of how dangerously dark her thoughts could be. there were moments when he wouldn't hear from her for weeks at a time. he remembered how y/n would lament on the droves of friends she had lost in the years prior because they hated when she would fall into her slump. after all, she wouldn't text anyone for days at a time; he recalled how when she recalled those memories, it somehow always ended with the friends telling her that she was selfish or that she wasn't trying hard enough to get better.

heeseung quickly parked his car in the guest space of y/n's apartment complex. from his spot, he could see the curtains of her bedroom window weren't drawn, but the window was cracked opened ever-so-slightly. he found himself devising a plan b in case y/n didn't come to the door and it involved somehow shimmying up to the second floor and busting through her window.

without another moment to lose, he rapidly bashed his pointer finger against the doorbell. at least if she was sleeping, he was certain that this'd wake her up!

not even a minute had gone by when y/n flung her apartment door open. heeseung took in the sight of her. her hair, a tangled, matted mess. if he had to guess, he assumed her knots were much worse at the back of her head. he noted that the fullness of her cheeks had vanished. she looked so gaunt compared to the last time he saw her; he wondered when the last time she ate was... or at least when the last time she ate anything of sustenance was.

y/n looked at heeseung with tired eyes. she frowned for a moment, only to replace it with a sad smile.

"have you come to air your grievances with me in person?" she said in a strained whisper.

if heeseung had been gutted before, he had no idea what this new feeling was. whatever it was though, it shattered whatever was left of him. he had known y/n to have horrible episodes of hopelessness and defeat, but this was too much for him to bear. he couldn't even begin to imagine how she was feeling. she was a shell of herself.

"... what are you talking about?" he asked gently.

"i just thought..." y/n let out a deep, long sigh. she looked down at her hello kitty house slippers, not finishing her thought aloud. she tightly wrapped her arms around herself as she stroked her right upper arm slowly.

instinctively, heeseung removed his coat and draped it over y/n. her bloodshot, tired eyes looked up at him once more. he wanted to hold her. to make her feel his warmth. to make her feel his love. he just wanted her to see she wasn't alone anymore.

"you just thought what?" he asked as y/n ushered him inside.

she shut the door behind her and wordlessly led him to the small couch in her living room. heeseung saw the nest she had created for herself with her blankets, pillows, and plushies in the dark space. the only source of light came from her muted television, which was currently airing reruns of old cartoons from the 1990s and the early 2000s. there were torn-up bags of chips (some empty and some half-full), unfinished, open bottles of soju and cans of beer, and a plethora of takeout boxes scattered around her little nest across her tiny coffee table. trash and dirty laundry lined the floor around her couch.

"sorry about the mess. i haven't had visitors in over six months now..."

six months. the last time anyone had seen y/n had been over seven months ago. sure, they had seen her posting all about her trip back to the states a month ago, but no one had physically been in her presence in over half a year. heeseung wanted to kick himself. why hadn't he visited sooner?

"no... please don't apologize-."

"i'm embarrassed," she whispered, trying to make space on the couch by tossing all of her used bedding to the floor.

heeseung stopped her in time, insisting that it was fine. after all, he had been the one to show up unannounced.

"what were you talking about before, y/n?" heeseung tried holding her gaze, but she quickly averted her eyes to her slippers once more. "what grievances are you talking about?"

every sigh that escaped y/n's lips was a dagger to heeseung's heart. he watched as she struggled to find the words to say. sensing her panic, heeseung guided her into her cocoon of blankets - making some room for himself as well. the two of them sat side-by-side in silence. he could wait all day for her to reply, especially if it meant not leaving her alone in this state.

"your friends," y/n reached for her phone from the recesses of her blankets, "they all texted me these paragraphs about something that i posted privately yesterday."

WHAT?!

heeseung could feel his blood boiling. "how do you mean?"

PARAGRAPHS?!

y/n unlocked her phone and handed the device to the man beside her. just as soon as he got a hold of her phone, she quickly retracted her hand and brought it to her eyes, rubbing away at them.

heeseung first watched as y/n began to curl up into a ball, then he directed his attention to her phone. upon first glance at her message app, he noticed that there were three circles pinned to the top: two group chats - one called "ohana 👑" and the other "the tortured poets department 🖊️" - and a silly selfie of him and y/n with the nickname "evan lee 💜" plastered just below it. a blush danced upon his cheeks at the sight of it all.

however, the warmth in his cheeks lasted for only a millisecond as his eyes fell just below their text thread; it appeared that ni-ki, jay, sunghoon, jake, and sunoo all sent messages to y/n in the time that it took for heeseung to arrive. heeseung tapped at the most recent of the texts, sunoo's. he repeated the process with jake's, sunghoon's, jay's, and finally, ni-ki's texts. with each scroll through of texts from his friends, he found himself getting angrier and angrier at them. especially after reading y/n's responses to each of them.

it was hard to tell tone over text, but heeseung knew his friends well. each message to y/n was crafted uniquely and in the sender's own words, but the gist of what they were saying was all the same.

they each started their message by telling y/n that they had been with jungwon the day before and how he had asked them if she was okay. they all state that they didn't know what he could possibly be talking about until jungwon mentioned that it was in reference to her instagram story - a story he failed to mention was only for close friends.

jay and sunoo went on to say that they didn't mind that they couldn't see her story; y/n was allowed to pick and choose who she wanted to see those stories. jake, ni-ki, and sunghoon - on the other hand - took major offense into not being able to see her story, considering "everything" they had been through "together with k". they all mentioned how deeply hurt they were by the fact that y/n said she had not friends. ni-ki had gone as far as to say, "i thought that me and the hyungs were your friends. but i guess not, huh?"

they then followed up their emotions with the same statements they were exclaiming at the park, about how if y/n had something to say about them to just outright say it and not dabble in this "high school bullshit and make everyone play this stupid game where they have to figure out what the hell it is they did wrong" (as jake put it in his text). in sunoo's message, he claimed that he was only reaching out to y/n because he wanted to be upfront with her and couldn't think of a single thing he might have done to offend her. jay and sunghoon continued to stress the fact that their text wasn't meant to be read as an attack, but they "wanted to be adults about the situation instead of resorting to petty, childish drama" because they too couldn't think of anything to warrant such a post from y/n. ni-ki drew from the fact that he and the rest of the boys were hurting over this and how it was "shady and cringy" to post a story like that on her social media account; he accused her of just wanting attention because he "didn't do anything wrong" so for her to post that with the implication that he had irritate the maknae to no end.

just like that, each of them wrapped up their lengthy chunks of text to y/n with such vitriol that heeseung couldn't believe that these were his friends. he knew they were coming from a place of hurt, but he was surprised that they didn't see y/n's post for what it truly was: a cry for help.

instead, they turned her raw emotions into their hurt egos. they decided to take bits and pieces of y/n's story and mold it into this narrative where she attempted to assassinate their characters. it went from being a post about how utterly depressed and pathetic she felt to being a post about them.

and heeseung was livid.

with all of them.

when had they become so self-important? if they were truly y/n's friends like they had so furiously claimed to be, why hadn't any of them asked if she was okay? even jungwon failed to ask her, opting instead to ask his hyungs and ni-ki - which, arguably got everyone in this mess in the first place.

heeseung felt his mind drift back to y/n's reply to each of the boys' texts. while he didn't read every single one, he did read the only one that got a text back, y/n's text to ni-ki. it was a long, heartfelt apology from y/n; heeseung could see how this whole mess was tearing her up inside just from her words to ni-ki alone. but he got even madder when he got to her parting words, only to see that ni-ki had replied with, "k. thanks for reaching out. i just need time for myself if i'm being honest. bye."

before he could say anything, heeseung was brought back to reality when he caught y/n silently sobbing into her hands from the corner of his eye.

"i'm sorry!" she whispered. over and over again. each time more broken than the last.

heeseung gently pulled her closer to his chestm cradling her to him as he rubbed his thumb against her back in an effort to comfort her. "you have nothing to be sorry for..."

"i hurt everyone's feelings-!"

"fuck them," heeseung growled, holding her tighter. "i'm sorry. i'm sorry that they let their egos get in the way of being decent human beings. i'm sorry that you've felt so alone for the last few months. i'm sorry that i haven't shown up for you in the way that you needed someone to be there."

y/n cried harder. "i... i... i... i didn't... i didn't mean..." her hiccups were affecting the rhythm of her speech. "i didn't mean that... that we weren't friends! i just... i just felt-."

"shhhh," he soothed as she shuddered under his embrace. "we haven't been very good friends to you as of lately, anyway. they're like my brothers and i love them, but those messages alone... we haven't been decent friends to you. i can understand how easy it is to feel like you're this lonely, little island, especially when the rest of us are still going out and making no effort to see how you're doing.

"i saw their messages to you. in ni-ki's case specifically, i scrolled up a little too far and saw that you've spent the last half of these past few months messaging him little things like tiktoks and memes only for him to like them or reply to you with one word. have you been reaching out to the rest of the boys?"

he felt her nod against his chest.

oh... so he was the only one to not have heard from her. the green-eyed monster crept into his thoughts momentarily, only for him to realize that the others' text threads were probably just as dry as ni-ki's.

"i'm really sorry that i didn't reach out to you sooner," heeseung sighed. "i really don't know what i was thinking. i'm sorry that you've felt so alone."

once y/n had calmed down enough to stop her hiccups, she excused herself to grab a glass of water. she asked heeseung if he wanted anything while she was up, but he declined - instead offering to get the glass for her. she appreciated the gesture but went to get the water herself.

this moment alone left heeseung in his thoughts again. he didn't want her to have to recount anything to him if she didn't want to, but he still needed to know. in her text to ni-ki, she said that she hadn't meant to keep jungwon on her list of close friends. that what she posted hadn't meant to be for the people she had met in south korea; it was for her friends back home - as a way to vent out the frustrations she hadn't known how to put into words for her korean audience. these frustrations, from what heeseung could gather, were things she wasn't ready to tell him or the others.

but the others had practically forced it out of her in her apologies to them...

... and ni-ki had the gall to tell her that he needed time and space from her. the rest left her on read - as if only turning their read receipts on for this moment alone.

heeseung could feel himself getting worked up all over again. gripping tightly at the fabric of his jeans, he sat up straighter when he heard y/n coming back to the darkened living room.

"i'm sorry," y/n whispered as she neared him.

heeseung stared up at her helplessly as she sat beside him. "no, there's nothing to be-."

"i meant to take all of you off my 'close friends' list. it wasn't because i didn't think we were friends; there are just some things from my past that i'm not ready to talk about with you guys yet-."

"and you don't have to! i'm sorry that the rest of them think that you owe us that..."

"i mean... they thought it was about them; they just wanted to clear things up and let how they were feeling be known," y/n said with a sigh, pulling heeseung's coat closer to her chest. "i offended them. i respect them from being upfront about their feelings-."

"IT'S FUCKING BULLSHIT!" heeseung stood up to face y/n. "WHY ARE THEY ALLOWED TO EXPRESS THEIR EMOTIONS LIKE THAT AND YOU'RE NOT?"

regret washed over heeseung as he noticed y/n's sullen eyes widen. she bit her quivering lips and heeseung wanted to punch himself in the face.

"sorry," he muttered. "i didn't mean to blow up like that. i just..."

heeseung knelt before y/n.

"no, it's okay," she said, avoiding his gaze.

"it's not... and what the guys did isn't okay either. yeah, they confronted you because they thought it was about them and they want to clear the air, but there's a way to go about that. and for ni-ki to go off on your like that only to leave you with that 'i need space' bullshit of a text-."

"he's just a kid."

"i get that, but i have no idea where the boys get off with being so... i don't know... vain? for lack of a better word. their reactions just feel so... guilty. as if they had done something-."

"i was being extremely vague in my post."

heeseung took y/n's shaking hands, finally holding her gaze as she looked at him. she seemed shocked by the physical interaction; he wondered how long it had been since she had touched another person outside their hug minutes ago.

"exactly! if it wasn't about them, but they somehow found a way to relate to it? i don't know... again, i think they're acting out of guilt," heeseung caressed the back of her hands with his thumb.

y/n gave heeseung a sad smile. "i get their side. with the way i worded everything, i can see how they relate what i wrote with the way everyone handled everything between k and me a few years ago."

heeseung felt y/n rip her hands away from his as she buried her face into her hands. sitting back on the couch, he pulled her into another hug; she didn't seem to be crying again, but he couldn't be too sure anymore. y/n hadn't mentioned her past relationship with k since their nasty breakup, but he remembered how unbothered she had been upon seeing him seven months ago at jake's birthday party. he also remembered how angered y/n had been - despite being unbothered at k's initial presence - because he attempted to approach her while she was alone at the open bar, grabbing refills for heeseung, sunghoon, and herself.

"... did the post have anything to do with k?" heeseung asked. he felt her go stiff at the mention of her ex-boyfriend before shaking her head against his chest and letting out a small sniffle. "okay, then? so the boys had nothing to worry about. it's just this huge misunderstanding. if they want to hold it against you, fuck 'em."

"i still really hurt their feelings."

"you apologized. did they?"

y/n pushed heeseung away to hug her legs to her chest. she shook her head. "but... a selfish part of me really feels like i'm owed one."

"it's not selfish - especially after you cleared it up with them. they jumped conclusions and said extremely hurtful things to you. if they truly did no wrong - which who knows, maybe they didn't do anything wrong! - i don't know... maybe they shouldn't have been so defensive. i don't know! maybe it's just me... but their behavior is downright embarrassing!"

with another sigh, y/n leaned against heeseung, who instantly wrapped his arm around her; it felt just like before, like no time had passed between the two of them. like there wasn't this mix of guilt, hopelessness, and despair in the air between them.

"embarrassing?"

"how else would your describe it when you make someone else's trauma and hurting about you?" heeseung asked, giving y/n's shoulder a tight squeeze. "y/n, i know you. i know you're not going to hold this another the boys, but i think their reaction to all of this is downright stupid. you talked about some pretty serious stuff in your post, but they pushed past that to complain that you might have posted about them. that doesn't sit right with me-."

"it's not that deep, hee-."

"except it is, y/n! this is exactly what happened with k hyung after you two broke up and more recently after jake's party. specifically after jake's party, you posted something privately about how hard things have been on your end and how it was affecting your mental health; someone shared it with him and he confronted you-."

"k apologized-."

"but then he immediately turned the conversation into 'i'm sorry, but also you hurt me!' and then you two only focused on his feelings!" heeseung thought back to that time. "i just... i feel like the boys took whatever was posted in the wrong direction. and even then, it wasn't even aimed in their direction to begin with! there are worse things to be done and that have been done than taking someone off your story then putting them back on..."

y/n pressed herself closer to heeseung as he continued.

"and honestly... whatever was actually said in your story was so much bigger than their feelings being hurt, y/n. because we both know that wasn't what it was about."

"hee..."

"look, i know... i know that you never meant for any of us to see it, but we did. and instead of seeing it for what it was, most of them made it about themselves. and i'm sorry for that. i'm sorry that we haven't been good friends to you lately - to the point where you felt like we weren't your friends to begin with. they're allowed to be hurt over it if they truly think that it's about them, but they can't just ambush you like that and then close the discussion when you clear the air and open it up for them. honestly, with the way all of this was handled, i wouldn't be surprised if you still stood by that statement! it's almost like... at every turn, you're reprimanded in some way for posting about your feelings. someone always has to take it out of context and make it about themselves.

"you literally told every single one of them that it had nothing to do with them and they have the audacity to sit there and say that they need time away from you? again, that doesn't sit right with me! why are you made to be the problem in every situation you're stuck to struggle with!"

there was still so much more heeseung had wanted to say, but the sounds of y/n's violent sobs had stopped him. she began to wail into his chest again and she squeezed him closer to her. heeseung felt his heart breaking as he looked down at one of his best friends. she wept loudly, screaming incoherent phrases into him while heeseung held her tightly.

"i'm sorry," heeseung whispered into her hair, pulling her onto his lap. "i'm sorry that i wasn't there for you before... i'm sorry that it's taken me so long to see how much you've been hurting. i'm sorry for everything. but i'm here now."

[mochalate]

[bonus] new notification!

osamu miya x reader || w/c: 1.4k no one knows atsumu like osamu does. This is a bonus chapter to my atsumu x reader series, new notification, but can be read standalone. Reader is a nutritionist for the Jackals. [see masterlist here] c/w: angsty

Growing up, sometimes Osamu would wonder what it might have been like to live in a world without Atsumu.

It's a thought that had felt improbable, and maybe even a little irrational— like thinking what it would have been like to have grown up in Hokkaido instead of Hyogo.

It was ridiculous, because the Miyas had lived and worked in Hyogo for generations— without even the whisper of a chance of ever leaving at any point in their history; and he was Osamu Miya, twin brother of Atsumu Miya. 

It was how things were. 

And growing up like that with lives so intertwined, meant that one way or another, Atsumu would show up at Onigiri Miya at least once a week; long after they were no longer considered a set. 

(Osamu didn’t want to say it was a twin thing, because he hated people calling anything he did a twin thing… but really, it was a twin thing.)

It was routine. Atsumu would walk in around the end of the afternoon, claim a stool near the cash register, order a plate, and then chat with Osamu for a couple of hours.

(Osamu is grateful for this. He knows he hasn’t been to even a quarter as many games of Atsumu’s as Atsumu has to Onigiri Miya’s lunch rushes.)

It was routine, so he notices when something is different— he notices when Atsumu brings you, one Saturday afternoon.

These are the first words you ever say to him, over the weekend special: “Oh, oh, this is lovely.”

It’s not very busy (and well, a pretty woman was complimenting his food) so he talks a little more than he usually does. “Ya want to know what’s in it?”

“Definitely.”

“The trick is in the sauce. Ya gotta get the spice mix just right, and then whip it with some olive oil.” Osamu rattles off a list, as he rings up another customer.

Atsumu looks lost. “What the hell is fenugreek?”

“It’s a spice,” you say, as you scribble everything down on a napkin. “It’s kind of bitter, but it balances out the rest.”

He's surprised. “Yer kidding, how does anything bitter taste this good?“

“That's because it's not alone!”

“Know yer way around spices?” Osamu asks.

“She’s a freak about food just like you,” Atsumu scoffs. “She knows.”

You meet his eyes for a second; and then quickly look away, embarrassed without that buffer of being entirely a stranger. 

Interesting, Osamu thinks.

“And you know, Sakusa was looking, so he said the cookies were fine.” You lean in conspiratorially. “But I saw him spitting into a napkin.”

Osamu winces. “He’s got a hell of a sweet tooth. Sorry ya had to see that.” He can’t imagine it was fun, having your cooking rejected so dramatically.  

To his surprise, you laugh. “Oh no, it was my fault. Does anyone like raisin bran? I like that he’s so honest.”

You’ve started to show up at Onigiri Miya a lot, mostly at night, near closing. You’re not as frequent a visitor as Atsumu; but you’re there enough for him to wonder if you’re showing up as he begins to square away the receipts. 

When you do come, you always have food with you. You always want to know what he thinks of your recipes.

(They start to taste better and better. He starts to look forward to it.)

The last customer, an old man, shuffles towards the register and passes him some crumpled bills. Osamu thanks him, and signals his staff to start closing. 

“Do you have a lot left to do before you go home?” you ask. 

He shrugs. “I could let the staff take care of it. But I try to help out with some of the little stuff.”

“Like?”

“Well…” Osamu bends down, and pulls out the box of fresh paper napkins. “I have to refill the holders.

“Oh, I can help with that!”

“I couldn’t ask ya to—”

You wave him off. “Don’t be silly, it’s no trouble. I’m always taking up your time, it’s the least I could do.”

It’s been a long time since Osamu has thought of being an only child. Somewhere in between when they started kindergarten (where Osamu had discovered that was an option) and the present, Atsumu had become a fact of life.

Now, as he watches you move around the tables, he thinks you’ve started to slot into his life pretty well too. 

It’s the morning after you stay over that first night that he realises he’s in a little too deep.

It’s completely innocent— you both just lost track of time, working on a project for the Jackals together. Osamu couldn’t let you go home alone that late at night, and you’d known him for months at this point. He certainly hoped you didn’t think he was a creep.

It’s completely innocent. But that didn’t change the fact that you were making breakfast for him, in his kitchen, first thing in the morning. It didn’t change the fact that he’d woken up to the delicious smell of frying eggs, and an apartment that felt alive. 

(It doesn’t stop his heart from skipping a beat when you smile at him over your shoulder.)

“Take a seat! Eggs are almost done.”

Osamu sits. This isn’t real. You’re dressed and ready for the day, and you look far too put together and professional to fit into the cosy fantasy that’s fighting to play out in his head. 

“Do you like them scrambled?” you ask, as you set two plates of scrambled eggs on the kitchen table and pull out a chair for yourself. “Atsumu said he liked scrambled eggs best, once. So I thought—” you cut yourself off, embarrassed. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have assumed that just because you’re twins.”

Death. Taxes. Atsumu. Facts of life. Where every conversation inevitably ends up. 

“I like ‘em,” Osamu says, as he shovels a spoonful into his mouth. “Thanks.”

(It tastes just a little bit better than when he makes them.)

When Atsumu nervously asks him if cooking together is a euphemism; he realises three things.

One; that Atsumu has figured out that the ‘company’ Osamu has vaguely referred to having over is you.

Two, that his brother has, at the very least, a massive crush on you.

And three, that he inexplicably feels guilty for his attempts at flirting with you.

It’s not up to him, he thinks. And it’s not up to Atsumu. It’s up to you. 

He’s still thinking that when he stops you from accidentally touching the cast iron on the stove. He’s thinking it when he feels the soft skin of your wrist, and when he hurriedly lets go to try and turn his attention back to the broth he’s making.

(You’re a little out of sorts today. He doesn’t know why. He wants to ask, but every time he marshalls the words onto his tongue, that damn guilt keeps rearing its head.)

He’s thinking it when you ask him if he thinks you have a chance with Atsumu; and when he considers, for one shameful moment, if it was okay to be selfish just this once. Tell you he doesn’t think Atsumu is interested in anyone. Make a joke about how the only thing Atsumu is capable of loving is a volleyball.

Atsumu, who showed up week after week. Who fought his parents until they agreed to support Osamu’s entrepreneurial dreams. His brother, who he knew better than anyone, who he knows would back off and make it all too easy for him to believe that lie if Osamu ever told him he was interested in you.

So he doesn’t think about it after that, and settles for touching you one last time, in the guise of friendship.

Osamu hears you giggle at something his brother said, as he heads into the back of the restaurant. 

He tells himself he’ll get over it, as he puts a takeout box together. It’s true. Eventually, he’ll be able to listen to that sound without running to hide in a kitchen. 

Osamu feels himself falling into the comfort of familiar movements— chopping the ingredients and shaping the rice; feeling the sticky, starchy grains between his palms. 

It’ll be okay.

(It’s better this way. He knows Atsumu well. He’s never been good at handling bitter food.)

If you're here after part 4, here are the [end notes] If you found this in the Osamu tag, consider reading [the original fic?] Or maybe one of [my others?] Please leave a like/reblog/reply if you enjoyed. ♥️♥️