#faceplants right into the water

[zarla-s]

A Patreon request for Gaster and Alphys hanging out, haha. Don't stand under the waterfall, Gaster!

[index]

[leviathiane]

its almost 6am i havent slept its normal its fine but i was tyring to hunt items for armor upgrades and do you. do you KNOW. wht the fucking double charmed perk is for the flight armor. DO YOU KNOW. 

ITS CALLED IMPACT PROOF

AKA I JUMPED OFF THE GREAT SKY ISLAND AND UPON FACE PLANTING DIRECTLY INTO THE STONE EARTH I JUST KINDA GOT UP

[petrichorandpaws]

My brain chemicals are all sorts of fucked right now and I feel like a stir-crazy border collie barking their head off. I need a fucking chew toy.

[pucksandpower]

Hydrate or Diedrate

Charles Leclerc x wife!Reader

Summary: after an issue with his car leaves Charles racing without water for the entire Miami Grand Prix, he wants to hydrate with something only you can give him

Warnings: 18+ content and lactation

The Miami sun beats down relentlessly as you make your way through the paddock after the race. Charles had an eventful day, managing to bring his Ferrari home in P3 despite having no water in his car for the entire Grand Prix.

You spot him being interviewed by the broadcast team, sweat still glistening on his face and his hair matted to his forehead. Though he seems coherent, you can tell he’s feeling the effects of the dehydration.

As soon as the interview wraps, you rush over and take his arm. “Come on, let’s get you out of this heat.”

Charles gives you a grateful smile. “I’m fine, I promise.”

You shake your head sternly. “Don’t give me that. You’re clearly dehydrated.” You glance around and wave over Charles’ best friend. “Can you take Jules for a bit?”

Joris nods and gladly takes your four-month-old son from your arms, expertly cradling the bundled infant. “Of course, go take care of him.”

You guide Charles into the air-conditioned Ferrari motorhome and down the hall to his driver’s room, closing and locking the door behind you. Charles immediately faceplants onto the couch with a groan.

“It was so hot out there. I could barely see straight those last few laps,” he mumbles into the cushion.

You settle onto the couch next to him, rubbing his back soothingly. “I know, I could see it on the screens. You did amazing to hang on for that P3.”

Charles rolls over onto his back, squinting up at you. “Do we have any water in here?”

“Of course.” You grab a bottle from the mini-fridge and hand it to him.

He wastes no time downing half of it in one long gulp. “Ahh, that’s better.” His eyes drift down to your chest, where your nursing bra peeks out from under your shirt. “Actually … I have an even more effective idea for rehydrating.”

You raise an eyebrow at him. “Oh? And what might that be?”

Charles sits up, a playful glint in his eyes as he sets the water bottle aside. He reaches for you, bunching the fabric of your shirt in his fists. “This.”

With one deft tug, he frees your breasts from the confines of your top. His tongue darts out to wet his lips as he takes in the sight.

“You know that’s not really what they’re for, right?” You tease, trying not to get too flustered.

Charles scoots closer until your bodies are flush together. His hands roam over your chest reverentially. “I think this is the perfect use for them.”

You shiver at his touch, arousal already beginning to pool in your core. “I don’t know, they’re usually just for feeding Jules ...”

“Well, think of this as multi-purpose.” Charles leans in to press kisses along the swell of your breasts.

Despite your banter, you’re already melting under his touch. “I … ah … I suppose you could use some rehydrating.”

With a low hum of approval, Charles takes one rigid peak into his mouth. He swirls his tongue around it firmly, coaxing out the first few drops of your milk.

A soft gasp escapes your lips at the wet heat of his mouth. You tangle your fingers in his sweat-damp curls to hold him close. “Charlie ...”

He only responds by increasing the suction, hungrily drawing more of your sweet essence. You bite your lip to stifle a moan as he switches to your other breast, lavishing it with the same rapt attention.

All too soon, Charles pulls back with a satisfied smack of his lips, chin and mouth glistening. “Delicious ...”

“You have no idea how hot that was,” you pant, completely transfixed by the erotic image he makes.

A cocky grin tugs at the corner of Charles’ mouth. “Oh, I think I do.” He presses his palm to the front of his race suit, making it obvious just how aroused he is. “Want to help me with this?”

“Absolutely,” you purr, pushing him back against the arm of the couch to straddle his lap.

Charles groans as you grind down against the hard bulge in his suit. “You’re a tease, you know that?”

“Takes one to know one.” You lean in to capture his lips in a heated kiss, all tongue and teeth.

One of Charles’ hands threads into your hair to angle your mouth more firmly against his. The other drifts down to grope your ass, pulling your hips flush with his.

You rock against him shamelessly, addicted to the delicious friction. He meets each grind with a roll of his own hips, quickly reducing you both to panting, needy messes.

“I want you,” Charles rasps against your lips. “Need to be inside you ...”

“Yes ...” You fumble for the zipper of his suit, desperate to free him. “God, yes, take me ...”

He surges up to kiss you again, all heat and urgency and unbridled want. You can taste the tang of your own milk on his tongue and it’s so dirty, so sinfully hot that it makes your head spin.

Finally, you manage to tug the fire-retardant fabric down far enough to free Charles’ straining erection. He hisses at the friction of your hand on his bare length.

“Hurry, mon amour,” he pleads, deft fingers already working to divest you of your underwear. “Need to be inside you ...”

No sooner is the scrap of lace pushed aside than Charles is guiding himself to your entrance. You sink down in one endless slide, stretching deliciously around his girth to take him to the hilt.

“Fuck ...” He bucks up into you with a choked groan.

You whimper at the exquisite fullness, rolling your hips to take him even deeper. Already you can feel the tight heat beginning to gather low in your belly.

Charles grips your hips hard enough to bruise, guiding your movements as you start to bounce on his length. His head falls back against the couch with a thump, mouth falling open in ecstasy.

“You feel so incredible,” he pants, meeting your thrusts with shallow rolls of his own hips. “So hot, so tight ...”

“Only for you,” you gasp out between moans, bracing your hands on his heaving chest.

He slides one calloused palm up to toy with your neglected breast, rolling the stiff peak between his fingertips. You cry out at the new stimulation, walls fluttering around him.

“Going to come just like this,” Charles grunts, increasing the pace. “Make such a mess of you.”

The thought of him painting you with his release has you clenching down hard. You ride him with wild abandon now, chase that electric high.

Charles leans up to suckle at your other breast, drinking you down greedily even as his hips snap up to meet yours. “Yes, just like that, fuck!”

With a broken shout, your orgasm slams into you like a freight train. Every muscle locked rigid, toes curled, as molten bliss washes over you in waves. Charles follows a beat later, still thrusting fitfully as he spills deep inside you with a guttural growl.

For a long moment, the only sounds in the room are your harsh pants mingling together as you float down from your highs. Charles peppers sloppy, open-mouthed kisses along your shoulder and neck, gradually gentling the movement of your joined bodies.

“Incredible,” he murmurs against your salty skin. “Absolutely incredible.”

You hum in satiated agreement, nosing at his hairline. Eventually you pull back far enough to take in his thoroughly debauched state — hair wild, cheeks flushed, lips swollen and red.

So beautifully wrecked because of you.

“Feeling rehydrated now?” You can’t resist teasing.

Charles lets out a breathless chuckle, warm palms sliding up and down your back. “More than I could have ever imagined.”

But the sound of the door opening makes you both freeze.

“Oh mon dieu!” Joris exclaims with a bark of laughter, looking thoroughly amused as he stands in the doorway cradling Jules. “I was just coming to return your son, but it looks like you two are already hard at work on the next one!”

You yelp and scramble to cover yourself as Charles groans in embarrassment, burying his rapidly reddening face against your chest.

Joris is already backing out of the room, Jules blissfully unaware as he continues chuckling to himself. “Never mind, never mind! I’ll just leave you lovebirds to it ...”

The door clicks shut and you can’t help but dissolve into nervous giggles against Charles’ shoulder. He joins in, the rumble of his laughter vibrating between your bodies.

“Well, that was mortifying,” he says once you’ve both calmed down some.

“At least Jules is too young to understand.” You press your smile to Charles’ hair. “Though Joris is never going to let us live that down.”

Charles groans again, but you can see the beginnings of a sheepish grin. “I don’t even care. That was more than worth the embarrassment.”

He tightens his embrace around you, settling in to simply enjoy the closeness for a while longer. You’re inclined to agree — a little teasing is a small price to pay for such blissful rehydration.

[itneverendshere]

pogue reader getting sick but she can’t call out, but rafes fr mad at you about it

changed it a bit just bc i want to show reader's progress regarding her hyper-independence, they're already dating and past the "i love you" phase, i felt like some progress had to be made by this point, especially bc this is after their big fight in this. hope you enjoy <3

don't want less, don't want more - r.c

pairing: rafe x pogue!reader (bartender!reader universe)

The floor beneath you feels like it's tilting, moving under your feet like a boat rocking on rough water. You blink a couple of times, hoping that’ll shake the haze taking over your vision, but it doesn’t do much. 

The bar lights over your head are too bright, and the music thumping from the speakers makes your head feel like it’s trapped in a vice. The clink of glass, every laugh, every order shouted at you feels like a hammer driving nails straight into your skull.

You swallow hard, trying not to gag. Your throat’s raw, and your chest feels tight, but you’re powering through it because you don’t have much of a choice. Not a choice at all.

"Whiskey sour, extra sour!" some country club douchebag yells from the other side of the bar.

His voice is like nails on a chalkboard. You force a smile and nod, reaching for the bottle, but your hands are shaky. You catch yourself on the edge of the bar before you can drop it.

This morning, you could barely get out of bed. Fever burning through you like you were standing too close to a bonfire, throat too sore to talk, and your head pounding so hard you thought you were going to pass out just brushing your teeth. 

You tried calling in. Tried. Told your manager, Greg, that you were sick as hell, couldn’t make it, but the guy just grunted like he always does. "Can’t afford anyone calling out today," he said. Like the world was going to end if you didn’t show up to sling drinks for a bunch of rich assholes.

So here you are.

You rub the back of your neck, trying to loosen up some of the tension building there, but it doesn’t help. Nothing really does at this point.

"Hey!" The guy who ordered the whiskey sour snaps his fingers in your face. "You deaf or something? Whiskey. Sour."

"Got it," You mutter, trying not to let your voice crack as you finally pour his drink. 

Your vision swims a little as you set it down in front of him, and for a second, you think you might actually faint right here at the bar.

That’d be something. Faceplant into a bunch of overpriced cocktails in front of half of the Kooks on this island. Greg would probably just step over you and ask you to get back to work.

You lean against the bar for a second. Your stomach rolls, threatening to revolt, but you choke it back. You can’t afford to be sick here. Not when you’re already in trouble with your manager for barely making it on time. You think back to the half-assed breakfast you tried to eat—if you can call a slice of toast breakfast—and how your stomach rejected it like poison.

Out of the corner of your eye, you spot Rafe coming in. And suddenly, you’re even more aware of how wrecked you are.

You know he still struggles with how independent you are sometimes. You’ve always been the kind of girl who handles things on her own, and Rafe has this tendency to think that means you don’t need him.

Today, though? You need him more than ever, but you couldn’t bring yourself to call for help.

You immediately know it’s gonna be a thing.

His eyes lock onto you from across the bar, and even through the fog in your head, you can see that look on his face. He’s pissed. Of course, he’s pissed. His jaw’s clenched like he’s biting back whatever rant he’s about to drop on you, and you can already feel the tension creeping up your neck.

Great, as if you didn’t feel bad enough already.

You try to stand a little straighter, look a little less like you're one second from collapsing, but your legs are jelly, and the room’s still spinning like you’re on some messed-up carnival ride.

You don’t want him to see how bad you’re hurting right now. But today? You’re too out of it to even try and explain.

He strides up to the bar, looking sharp, as usual. Meanwhile, you probably look like death warmed over. His eyes are scanning you, taking in the pale face, the way you’re gripping the edge of the bar like you’re about to keel over. You see his lips tighten, and yeah, he’s definitely about to lay into you.

“You didn’t call,” he says, voice low but definitely annoyed. He leans in, trying to keep this between just the two of you, but with how loud the bar is, it still feels like a confrontation.

“I’m fine,” you lie, forcing a smile that probably looks more like a grimace. 

Rafe’s eyes narrow. He’s not buying it. “You look like you’re about to pass out. Why didn’t you call me?”

You hate that you feel guilty.

“Because I’m handling it,” you say, voice softer now. But even you can hear how weak you sound.

It’s not convincing. Hell, you’re not even convinced.

He crosses his arms, looking down at you like you’re a puzzle he can’t figure out. “Handling it? Baby, you can barely stand.”

You let out a sigh, trying not to let it turn into a cough.

"I’m fine," you repeat, but even you know it sounds pathetic at this point. Your head feels like it's full of cotton, you’re not sure if you’ll make it through the next few minutes, let alone your entire shift.

But pride’s a bitch.

Rafe just stands there, arms crossed, staring at you like he’s waiting for you to come clean. You can feel his frustration, but there’s something else, too. Worry. It’s in the way his eyes keep flicking over your face, how his fingers are tapping against his arm like he’s holding himself back from just scooping you up and carrying you out of here.

"I heard from Topper," he finally says, like he’s been holding that card in his back pocket. You blink, trying to keep up. "He saw you at the club earlier, said you didn’t look right."

Great. Freaking Topper. Of course, idiot couldn’t mind his own business. You can almost picture him, all dressed up in some preppy golf outfit, spotting you from across the course and making a note to text Rafe the second he saw something off.

Rafe’s still watching you, waiting for a reaction.

You open your mouth, trying to come up with some excuse, some way to brush it off, but your brain’s too foggy, and all you manage is a weak, "I was fine then."

He raises an eyebrow. "Yeah? 'Cause Top said you looked like you were about to hurl on the 9th hole." He’s trying to keep his voice low, but you can tell he’s annoyed. Not at Topper, not even really at you—just at the whole situation.

You want to snap back, tell him you’re fine, that you’ve got it under control. But instead, all that comes out is another tired sigh. “Greg wouldn’t let me call out. Said they needed me.”

“You serious?”

“Dead-serious.”

Rafe’s jaw clenches so tight you think you hear his teeth grind. His hands come out of his pockets, flexing like he’s about to hit something—or someone. He runs a hand through his hair like he’s trying to calm himself down before he says something he’ll regret.

But you know him—he’s never been great at holding back when he’s pissed. And right now? He’s definitely pissed.

“Greg said that?” His voice is low, but there’s this dangerous edge to it, like he’s two seconds away from losing it, “You should’ve called me. I would’ve come down here, I would’ve—”

“I know.” You cut him off because you do know.

He would’ve dropped everything and come running. That’s exactly why you didn’t call. You didn’t want to be the a burden again. Like you said, you’re still working on yourself.

Rafe leans against the bar, his whole body radiating this intensity that makes you feel both comforted and nervous.

“So, let me get this straight,” he says, voice louder now, not even bothering to keep it low-key anymore. “You’re sick as hell, and that asshole wouldn’t let you stay home?”

You wince. He’s drawing attention now, people at the bar starting to glance over. You hate seeing him like this, but you don’t have the energy to smooth things over.

“Rafe, please—” you start, but he cuts you off.

“No, seriously. What kind of fucking manager forces someone to come in when they’re this sick?” His voice carries, and a couple of the other bartenders are giving you looks, like they can’t decide if they’re more surprised or impressed by Rafe’s audacity, "You’re killing yourself for this job, and he doesn’t give a fuck.”

You glance toward the back, hoping Greg’s still in the office and not witnessing this meltdown. The last thing you need right now is more heat from him. But of course, your luck sucks, because just as Rafe’s ramping up, Greg strides out from the back, clipboard in hand, that same stupid scowl on his face like he’s already annoyed at everything.

Rafe spots him instantly, and if you thought he was mad before, now he’s on a whole other level.

"Greg!" Rafe calls out, loud enough that half the bar turns to look. Your stomach sinks. This is about to get ugly.

Greg stops dead in his tracks, his eyes flicking to Rafe and then back to you. He knows. He knows exactly what’s about to happen, and he’s already losing the upper hand.

“Yeah, Rafe?” Greg’s voice is weak, almost shaky. Like he’s trying to keep it together, but he knows he’s got no chance. Rafe’s family literally owns half the island—Greg’s just some middle manager with too much attitude.

Your boyfriend steps forward, slow and deliberate, closing the space between them like he’s already won this thing.

“You made her come in today?” His voice is calm, but it’s that scary kind of calm that’s worse than yelling. The kind that makes your stomach drop because you know the person holding it together is barely holding back.

Greg opens his mouth to respond, but all that comes out is this pathetic mumble. “We… we were short-staffed.”

Rafe raises an eyebrow, his lips pulling into this cold, humorless smile. “Short-staffed?” He glances at you, and you feel the heat rising in your cheeks. You really didn’t want this to turn into a scene, but here you are. “You see how she looks right now? You made her come in like this?”

Greg’s eyes flick back and forth between you and Rafe, and you can see the panic starting to set in. He’s sweating now, probably realizing that this little power trip he’s on is about to bite him in the ass. “She didn’t… uh… say she couldn’t work…”

“She told you she was sick,” Rafe cuts him off, voice like steel. “You’re the manager, right? Thought that meant taking care of your staff. Guess I was wrong.”

Greg’s mouth opens and closes like he’s trying to think of something to say, but nothing’s coming. He looks like a deer caught in headlights, knowing any move he makes right now could get him fired. Hell, maybe even blacklisted from every job on the island. The Cameron’s have that kind of pull.

“I-I didn’t realize how bad it was,” Greg finally stammers, but even he doesn’t sound convinced by his own excuse.

Rafe takes another step forward, practically towering over Greg now. “You didn’t realize?” He laughs, but there’s no warmth in it. “Look at her, man. How could you not realize?”

You wince as the room seems to get quieter, everyone watching this power struggle unfold. You’d rather be anywhere but here right now, but you also know that Rafe’s not letting this slide.

Greg takes a step back, wiping the sweat off his forehead with the back of his hand. 

“I-I was just trying to keep things running. We… we were slammed.”

Rafe’s smile drops, and now it’s just pure ice. “You think that’s a good enough reason to put my girlfriend’s health at risk?”

Greg looks like he’s about to pass out himself at this point, but he manages to mutter, “No… no, I—I didn’t mean…”

“Here’s the deal, Greg,” Rafe says, voice low but dangerous. “You’re gonna back off. Let her finish this shift if she wants. If she doesn’t? She’s out, no questions asked. And next time, when she says she’s sick, you listen.”

Greg nods so fast it’s like his head’s on a swivel. “Of course, of course, Rafe. I didn’t mean any disrespect. I just—”

“Good,” Rafe interrupts, already turning away like he’s done with this conversation. “Glad we’re on the same page.”

Greg just stands there, wide-eyed and frozen, clearly too scared to even argue. He stammers some half-hearted apology, but Rafe’s already turning back to you, brushing the whole thing off like it was nothing.

You look up at him, still in shock at how quickly Greg folded. “You really didn’t need to do that.”

He shrugs, leaning back against the bar with that easy confidence he always has. “Yeah, I did,” he says, his tone softening now that it’s just the two of you. “I’m not gonna let some nobody push you around like that.”

You sigh, feeling both relieved and slightly embarrassed. “You know he’s probably gonna hate me even more now.”

Rafe smirks, like that’s the least of his concerns. “Who cares? He won’t say a fuckin’ thing. Trust me.”

“Everyone’s going to say a thing, baby. They’re gonna think I have some kind of privilege because I’m dating you.”

Rafe’s smirk softens. He steps a little closer, lowering his voice so only you can hear him over the dull roar of the bar.

“Let them think whatever they want,” he says, his hand brushing against yours. “You’ve been busting your ass here long before I ever stepped in. Nobody can take that from you.”

You bite your lip, feeling everyone’s eyes on you, judgment and curiosity. He’s right in a way—you’ve been working extra hard. But still, it’s hard to ignore the feeling that now, everyone’s going to assume you’ve got some special treatment just because of Rafe’s name.

“It’s not about that,” you murmur, “I just—don’t want people thinking I can’t stand on my own. I don’t want to be the girl who hides behind her boyfriend’s power.”

Rafe tilts his head, studying you with that look he always gives when he knows you're holding back.

“You think that’s what this is?” His voice is steady, his tone a little softer now. “This wasn’t about power, baby. This was about someone treating you like you didn’t matter. And I’m not letting anyone—anyone—do that to you.”

He’s not wrong.

Greg didn’t give a damn about how sick you were, only about keeping the bar running, like you were replaceable. And you hate how right Rafe is, how much you needed someone to step in, even if it makes you feel a little helpless. You swallow hard, the tightness in your chest easing slightly, though your body still feels like it’s been run over by a truck.

“And you’re not working anymore today, or the next week for that matter. You’re gonna get your ass in my car and we’re going to the doctor.”

You nod, knowing there’s no arguing with Rafe when he’s like this, but part of you still feels guilty.

Not for needing help exactly, but for not being able to handle it all on your own. You've always been the girl who grits her teeth and gets through it, but today? Your body is screaming at you that you just can’t. Not anymore.

Rafe’s watching you closely, like he’s waiting for you to argue, but you don’t. You’re too drained. The adrenaline from the confrontation with Greg is wearing off, and now all you feel is this bone-deep exhaustion.

“I’m not going to a doctor,” you say, even though you know you probably should. “Just home. I just need to sleep.”

He narrows his eyes like he’s trying to read between the lines of what you’re saying, but then he just nods. “Fine. But if you’re not better by tomorrow, I’m dragging you to urgent care. No arguments.”

You give him a weak smile, trying to show you appreciate it even though you feel like crap.

“Deal.”

Without another word, he moves around the bar, ignoring Greg’s gawking and the way everyone’s still sneaking glances at you two. He gently takes the towel out of your hand, sets it on the counter, and slips an arm around your waist.

It’s the first time you’ve felt stable all day, leaning into him like you might actually make it to the car without collapsing.

“I don’t think I can afford an appointment.”

He looks at you like you’ve just said the most ridiculous thing in the world. His arm tightens around your waist, steadying you as you start to sway a little on your feet.

"Not worried about the money.”

You try to shake your head, but the movement makes you dizzy, and you stop, letting out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding.

"I just don’t want to be that person, you know? Relying on you for everything."

He gives you a side glance, eyebrows raised.

"Baby, you’re not relying on me for everything. You’re literally sick, and I’m not about to let you tough it out just because you’re too stubborn to ask for help. We’ve talked about this a million times.”

"I guess," you mumble, letting your head rest against his shoulder as you walk towards the door.

"No guessing about it," he says, softer now, his fingers brushing your arm in a way that makes you feel more grounded. "You’ve been holding down the fort for too long. Let me take care of you for once."

The air outside hits you like a slap, but Rafe keeps you close, leading you toward his car. Your legs are weak, the fever still simmering under your skin, but his body warmth keeps you upright.

"Thanks," you whisper, even though it feels weird to say. You’re not used to thanking people for basic care, but with Rafe, it feels different.

He pauses, opening the passenger door for you.

"You don’t gotta thank me, okay? I’m just doing what anyone who loves you would do."

Your heart skips at that. You’re still not used to how easily he says stuff like that, like it’s no big deal. But he’s rubbing off on you, because you can say it just as easily now.

“I love you too, sorry for being a pain in your ass.”

Rafe chuckles as he helps you into the car, leaning down to make sure you’re settled before he shuts the door. He bends down and presses a gentle kiss to your forehead.

"You're always a pain in my ass," he murmurs against your skin, grinning as he pulls back just enough to look at you. "But you’re my pain in the ass, and that’s what matters."

You can’t help but roll your eyes, but there’s a smile tugging at your lips despite how wrecked you feel. The fever, the headache, the exhaustion—it all takes a backseat, at least for a moment. 

Knowing Rafe’s always got your back? That makes it a little easier to breathe.

[cxffecoupx]

when you get drunk

seventeen × gn reader crack mostly, kinda fluff (somewhere) warnings: mentions of alcohol, being drunk, reader is absolutely wasted, calling reader 'stupid' once wc: 1.1k author's notes: requested; thank you anon!! this was something i made space in the drafts for but never completed lmao. i'm not very proud of this, but i hope you enjoy :)

➼ choi seungcheol

in the unlikely event that he is not drunk (the chances are quite less though), he's just happy that he gets to take care of you. something he hasn't noticed before (because, like previously stated, he's just as drunk), is that you babble a lot more when you're drunk, and you babble utter nonsense. so, he's more than happy to come and pick your drunk self up and take you home, coerce you to drink two or more glasses of water, change your clothes and get you to bed, all the while you're just chattering away about how the random dog you saw on the way is now the ceo of the company that sells hats made of blueberries. seungcheol smiles. obviously you make no sense, but he would willingly stay up to listen to your nonsense.

➼ yoon jeonghan

sneaky lil shit. already has a shit-eating grin when he realises you're home drunk. how you reached there is no concern to him now that you're home and you're absolutely wasted, stumbling over air and hugging the coat hanging nearby thinking it was him. he doubles over in laughter, but not before he runs to get his phone because this is blackmail material. he comes back just in time to see you attempt to kiss the jacket. after he's got all the footage he needs, he gently pulls you to him and drags you upstairs, changes your clothes and makes you drink a glass of water before climbing into bed with you. what hurts more than the headache next morning is having to watch the video he took, and you mentally decide to buy a shovel to dig your grave.

➼ hong jisoo

absolute gentleman. already worried when he gets a call saying you're wasted af. rushes over to where you are, softly talks you into getting into the car and takes you back home. giggles when you become extra touchy with him, but he manages to get you hydrated, changed and ready for bed. hell, he even removes all the makeup thoroughly before getting you into bed. how he does that, you don't know. but you're forever grateful for him.

➼ moon junhui

he'd be so surprised when you stumble into the house with no coherent thoughts. he'd run to you and hold you before you crash into the wall or faceplant yourself onto the floor. he's laughing at your mindless antics and jokes but sits you down with a bottle of water and listens to everything you say, even though it makes zero sense. soon, you fall asleep and he takes you to bed, changes your clothes if it's possible, and gets in bed with you. wakes up early next day to make you his special hangover soup.

➼ kwon soonyoung

you're the one who's drunk, but he's the one who seems like it lmao. he'd be jumping around with you, excitedly talking with you and listening to you talk. you're both literally blabbering over each other. in case there's anyone around you, they'd definitely be eyeing you both. probably end up staying awake till late, talking about all the things under the sun. you both wake up next morning on the couch, legs tangled and arms wrapped around each other.

➼ jeon wonwoo

super concerned and super clueless. does not know what to do when you show up tipsy. you just get more energetic when he tries to take care of you, so he has to beg you to cooperate with him right now. does it help though? of course not. gives you some medicine to prevent hangover, makes you drink water, and waits for you to slowly fall asleep on the couch before picking you up and putting you to bed.

➼ lee jihoon

he refrains from drinking, but he sure knows how to take care of your drunk self. silently watches your antics from the corner of the room and smiles thinking how'd he get so attached to the dork that's in front of him right now. when he's sure that you've tired yourself out, he pushes you towards the washroom to wash up, but eventually sighs and helps you when he hears the chaos in there. side-hugs you while you lean onto him as he's taking you to the bed and although he's got a bit more work to wrap up before sleep, he finds it hard to resist your puppy eyes that insists on cuddling.

➼ lee seokmin

becomes so excited seeing you like this. kinda like hoshi; you're the one who's drunk but he's the one who seems like it. asks you all about your evening and what you did and what you drank. takes mental note of trying the brand and type you mentioned as being really good. might even suggest opening a bottle right then and there. needless to say, you fall asleep holding the bottle, and he falls asleep holding you.

➼ kim mingyu

endeared by you. literally melts into a puddle seeing how much of a stupid you become while drunk because to him, you look like the most adorable thing on the earth. cups your cheek and presses a loud smooch on your cheeks because that's how much of a simp he is right now. happily listens to your rants while he's washing you up, dressing you in your pajamas and making you drink water. even after you're both in bed, he's turned to your side, watching your eyes glisten. it's the alcohol, he knows that. but something about you being so out of your mind right now just makes him giggle in love.

➼ xu minghao

lowkey judges you. he knows that you know your alcohol tolerance. he doesnt understand why you would go beyond that. is also done with all the bullshit you pull at him, but he eases a while later and next thing he knows, he's laughing along with you. keeps repeatedly telling you to wash up because you dont listen the first few times. when he returns with hangover medicines and water, he smiles seeing you curled up in the middle of the bed.

➼ boo seungkwan

highkey judges you. literally seats you on the couch and starts nagging about how you cant tolerate alcohol. and then sidles up to you to hear all the gossip you have to spill about the girl gang meeting that you came from. wakes up in the morning after he falls from somewhere; thats when he realises that you both fell asleep on the couch.

➼ chwe hansol

man was sleeping when you returned home. you'll be lucky if he woke up. has got no clue what to do, so just ends up standing there and listening to your yapping.

➼ lee chan

"jeonghan hyung? can you come over? i need help."

[amirasainz]

Ok, hear me out. Carlos, who looks after drunk reader. She is like hyperactive and he is trying to look after her.

Thank you💜💜💜

Enjoy reading and send some requests

-xoxo, Babygirl 💋

Hyperactive night's

The club was alive with music, lights, and the sound of clinking glasses, but Carlos Sainz was on high alert. His girlfriend, Yn, was very, very drunk. He glanced over at her, perched on a barstool, swirling the remains of her cocktail and giggling at nothing in particular. They were out clubbing with friends, most of whom were still dancing and having a great time. Carlos, however, had taken on the role of the responsible one tonight, his only drink being a steady supply of sparkling water.

Yn wasn’t just tipsy—she was gone. Her hyperactivity had kicked in about half an hour ago, and Carlos had been chasing her around the dance floor ever since. She had now turned her attention to him, her eyes wide and full of excitement, like a kid in a candy store.

“Carlitoooos!” she screeched over the music, her hands flapping in front of her as if she’d just discovered that she could, in fact, move them.

Carlos, used to this by now, leaned in with a half-smile. “Yes, amor?”

“I wanna—I wanna dance more!” she announced, wobbling off the barstool and stumbling straight into Carlos’ chest. “Let’s dance, papi! Wooo!” She flailed her arms in an uncoordinated attempt at a twirl.

Carlos caught her before she could faceplant. “I think you’ve danced enough for tonight, no? How about we head home, and I’ll make you some water?” He spoke gently, knowing that trying to argue with Drunk Y/N was like trying to reason with a hurricane.

“Water?!” She looked at him as if he’d suggested she drink paint. “Nooo, I want another margarita! Pleeease, Carlitos. Pleeease. I need it! We’re celebrating!”

Carlos chuckled and shook his head, trying to steer her toward the exit. “You’re definitely not having another margarita, amor. Let’s go.”

But Yn was slippery, like a drunk eel, and before he could grab her, she darted back into the crowd. “Catch me if you caaaan!” she giggled, weaving through people like she was running a race. Carlos sighed. Why did she have so much energy when she was drunk?

He waded through the sea of people, dodging sweaty dancers and a guy who had clearly been trying to flirt with anything that moved. Finally, he found her standing near the DJ booth, trying to bribe the DJ with the half-eaten nachos she’d somehow acquired.

“Please play ‘Despacito,’ I’ll give you this!” she said, holding up a sad-looking nacho with one soggy corner. The DJ looked both confused and mildly entertained.

Carlos swooped in just in time, wrapping an arm around her waist. “Sorry, man. She’s had too much.” He flashed the DJ an apologetic smile.

Yn was having none of it. “Nooo, Carlos! I was this close to getting ‘Despacito!’ Why are you ruining my vibe?”

“I’m saving your vibe,” Carlos said, steering her back toward the exit once more. “Come on, let’s go. Fresh air, remember? You like fresh air.”

Yn looked up at him, her eyes wide with sudden excitement. “Fresh air! The ocean! Carlos, let’s go to the ocean!”

Carlos blinked. “Wait, what?”

But it was too late. She was already bolting for the door, her heels clicking wildly on the floor.

“Yn, no!” Carlos shouted, following her out of the club. His legs may have been trained for F1 racing, but right now, it felt like he was competing in an Olympic sprint. Yn was shockingly fast for someone who could barely walk in a straight line.

They burst out into the cool night air, Yn laughing hysterically as she ran down the street toward the beach, which, unfortunately, was only a few blocks away.

“Yn, stop running!” Carlos called after her, trying to catch up. He could feel his heart pounding—both from the physical exertion and sheer panic. She was drunk and running toward the ocean. This was the stuff of nightmares.

Yn, on the other hand, was having the time of her life. She kicked off her shoes and started running barefoot down the sand, her arms outstretched like she was about to take flight.

“I’M A MERMAID, CARLOS!” she screamed, spinning in circles as she headed for the waves.

Carlos finally caught up to her and tried to grab her arm, but she dodged him, giggling like a madwoman. “No! Let me live my dream!”

“Your dream is to drown?!” Carlos panted, still trying to corral her as she charged toward the ocean like it was some kind of mystical destination.

“I’m gonna swim!” she announced proudly, stepping into the water. The cold shock of it made her shriek with glee. “It’s so cold—I LOVE IT!”

Carlos practically dived after her, grabbing her around the waist before she could go any deeper. “Nope. No swimming. Out of the water, mermaid. You’re coming back to shore.”

Yn kicked and flailed in his arms, laughing so hard she could barely breathe. “Carlos! You’re ruining my ocean adventure!”

“Your ocean adventure is over. You’re freezing, and you’re going to catch a cold,” he said, dragging her back to dry land.

She sagged in his arms, finally giving up, but still grinning from ear to ear. “I was having so much fun.”

“I know you were, loca,” Carlos said, setting her down on the sand. He ran a hand through his hair, taking a deep breath. “But I can’t let you drown. You’re not actually a mermaid.”

She blinked up at him, her expression suddenly serious. “You don’t know that.”

Carlos laughed despite himself. “Yes, I do.”

Yn looked up at the stars, then back at him, her eyes softening. “You’re the best, Carlitos. I love you so much.”

Carlos smiled, sitting down next to her, wrapping his arm around her shoulders to keep her warm. “I love you too, but you’re never drinking this much again.”

She giggled and leaned her head on his shoulder. “Deal. But only if you promise to always save me when I try to swim after too many margaritas.”

“Always,” he chuckled, pressing a kiss to her temple. “But next time, you’re staying on the beach.”

Yn smiled, snuggling into him as she closed her eyes. ���Okay, but can we go back to the club tomorrow? I still need to hear ‘Despacito.’”

Carlos groaned, looking up at the sky. He was never letting her near a DJ booth again.

[discordiansamba]

the other Zuko time travel AU idea is that when he travels back in time, he ends up right back where he started a year ago when Aang came out of the iceberg... except he arrives two years early, right after the men leave the Southern Water Tribe.

and by that I mean, he lands face first in the snow, panics and ends up playing dumb. yes, he's Fire Nation. no, he doesn't actually know how he got here either (not technically a lie). no, he's not here to harm anyone and he wouldn't want to. he's working against the Fire Nation. Promise. For real.

And it's... a little hard to take the guy who just manifested in the middle of your village and faceplanted in the snow as a threat. Zuko figures well. fuck it. Aang's going to come out of that iceberg eventually. He might as well stick around here. What else is he going to do? Besides, they look like they could use the help around here... and if he's being honest, he's still feeling pretty guilty about the whole. ramming his ship into their village thing.

Hey, maybe he can even give Sokka some warrior tips- and Katara some waterbending tips. He remembers some of the katas he saw her practice. This could work out great!

(also Sokka and Katara are so small. holy shit.)

you've heard of (character) adopts Zuko. Now get ready for Zuko adopts Sokka and Katara.

[cliophilyra]

Honey, I’m Home

“Hey honey I’m home,” Buck murmurs to himself, half-falling through the door into the dark entrance hall of Tommy’s house. The whole day has been a seemingly endless stream of small, silly calls, each bell draining him further and further, leaving him a shell of the man he was when he left that morning.

It had been a great morning too. Two orgasms before he’d even had his coffee had seemed like a pretty promising start to the day and then he’d spent most of his shift on a constant simmer, half hard in his turnouts because his boyfriend, who was having the opposite sort of day at work, decided it would be a good idea to send him shirtless selfies taken in the Harbor locker room that would have been rejected from the firefighter calendar for being too pornographic.

The whole day there was nothing in his head but the need to get back home, drop to his knees and let Tommy fuck his mouth until he comes down his throat. But with every alarm his energy had drained and drained and now here he is, a mere 18 hours later, all alone in an empty house, feeling dead on his feet and Tommy is still on shift for another four hours. He lets out a deep sigh and drops his bag, trudging up the stairs with leaden feet.

After the quickest possible shower he wraps a towel around his waist and heads to the bedroom. As he approaches he notices to his surprise that there’s a dim light coming from under the door. He pushes it open, thinking Tommy must have left a lamp on, only to be greeted by the most wonderful sight he has ever seen. Tommy is in bed - their bed - wearing nothing but grey sweatpants and his reading glasses. He looks up from his book and smiles. “Surprise,” he says. “Lucy came in early and took pity on me. Apparently I was “annoying”, which I would dispute but I didn’t want to look a gift horse in the mouth. So I got out early.”

Buck just stands there and takes him in. His hair is all soft, messy curls, sticking up at random and his glasses make his beautiful eyes seem even more impossibly blue than usual. His chest is just so huge. Buck finds himself transfixed by his pecs again, mouth filling with saliva. They’re just so big and strong and so, so…inviting. Buck doesn’t have any coherent words left in his head so he just crawls onto the bed and faceplants into Tommy’s chest, pressing his face into the soft warmth of his pecs with a long, drawn out sigh of contentment.

Tommy lets out a sound somewhere between a grunt of surprise and a laugh as he effortlessly takes his weight, wrapping his arms around him and carding his fingers softly through Buck’s damp hair, kissing the top of his head.

Buck takes a deep breath, letting the warm, subtly spicy smell of Tommy’s soap and the soft musk of his skin become his whole awareness. He feels the tension begin to drain away immediately, his muscles heavy and lax, the scratch of Tommy’s nails against his scalp sending tiny shivers down his spine as he rubs his face into his chest, Tommy’s soft chest hair tickling his nose.

“Hard day?” Tommy asks, sounding amused.

Buck just hums in agreement, pressing his lips to Tommy’s chest.

“I probably shouldn’t have sent you those pictures at work,” Tommy laughs quietly.

Buck makes a sharp noise of protest because he absolutely cannot agree with that, although he may not be at his most coherent right now. The scent of Tommy’s skin is making his mouth water and his dick twitch in a frankly heroic effort. He bites down lightly on Tommy’s pec and smirks when he hisses.

“Baby,” he says, mumbling the words into his chest. “I—I—I am…so fucking tired right now,” he sighs in frustration. “But when I wake up I am going to suck your brain out through your cock and then I am going to fuck you til you forget your own name,” he says with absolute assurance.

He feels Tommy’s throat move as he swallows hard and smiles as his big hands slide down Buck’s back to squeeze his ass.

“Well if you insist.”

“I absolutely do,” Buck says, his voice already thick and slow.

Tommy kisses his head again and curls his leg around Buck’s. Buck is asleep between one breath and the next.

[im-totally-not-an-alien-2]

Halloween prompts year 2 day 31

Happy Halloween 🎃

Danny sighed, staring dejected at the empty cabinets. His parents forgot to go to get groceries again. "Guess its another cereal night."

"I can head to the store right fast if you want something." Jazz said from the table where she was casually eating her own cereal.

Danny sighed again, this time with the full force of his teen angst, "Unless they're selling a way to make our parents less crazy, no thanks."

Jazz got up from the table and began to approach him, "Danny.." he cringed. Danny hated that soft tone. It ment he'd either hurt her feelings or said something she thought required a gentle approach to. "I know our parents aren't perfect-"

"I don't want them to be perfect!" He cut her off, "I just want all of us to be happy and healthy and sane! Is that too much to ask?!" Aaand now she looked hurt, "Sorry."

Now it was her turn to sigh before bringing him into a hug, "I wish things were different. I wish we were kids again had someone willing to raise us in a kind respectful way, someone who could fix all our problems."

"So you have wished it, so it shall be!!" A feminine voice rang out and everything turned green...

------

Bruce was casually walking around in the greenery of the manor grounds, basking in the sunlight and fresh air as Alfred ordered when a portal made from what looked like Lazarus waters spat out a little kid no older than six years old in a blue dress with a matching big blue bow in her hair followed by a younger darked haired boy in a blue t-shirt and cargoshorts.

"No! Ugh!" The younger kid jumped to his feet, "We gotta get back to Amity! If I don't defeat her in 48 ours the wish becomes permanent!"

That sounded alarming and he began to approach after the kid tried to run, only to trip and faceplant into the grass. The kid muttered about how small his legs were which made Bruce wonder if the child was dead aged or shrunk somehow.

As it turned out talking to the yiunger kid was difficult but he eventually managed to convince the older one to come to the manor with him and her brother to explain things...

[mothdust23]

An angel nursing a drink. Her holy robes are ragged and dirty, her beautiful features marred by scars older than the light tethered to her head. She can feel her halo ringing painfully in her feathered ears, telling her to stop, leave this place of sin, return to her purpose. Her eyes are tinged with the orange of the disk, but her natural purple shines through enough to stare daggers at the holy symbol.

"I'm tired."

But you have so many people to save.

"Then let me save myself first."

This is self harm. Leave.

"All I'm doing is-"

INDULGING. YOU NEED TO STOP.

"By the holy, do you EVER shut up!?"

The bar goes quiet. The bartender stares her up and down, his visual receptor glowing and flickering.

"You're not a bird, are you?" he says gently.

"Gee, what tipped you off?" she mutters back, taking another swig of liquid courage.

"..The, er, halo, ma'am."

"Right, this accursed thing." She glares at it, reaching up and trying to pull, yet it sticks like glue above her head.

ACCEPT YOUR PLACE.

"I must say, in all of my years of active service, an angel has never graced my establishment. Why are you here?"

"To get drunk, what does it look like I'm doing!?"

STOP SINNING

The robot gives her a pitying look, remotely signaling an early end to his shift as he sits down next to her.

"I've never heard of an angel who didn't like its halo." he says curiously.

"It's not just the halo, it's the whole thing. Celibacy? No earthly possessions? Giving up everything, spending every hour of every day saving strangers from sins that don't even exist!? I never wanted this!!"

BUT YOU SHOULD

With every word she gets angrier, holy light cracking the glass and turning the alcohol to water. She groans and tosses it at the ground, making the bartender wince.

"...then why are you an angel?"

"I WAS FORCED TO BE!! My parents, my whole family, everyone I grew up with- it was either I put on the damn halo or they.. t-they.."

She tears up. The robot puts his hand on hers.

"Shh.. I understand. Perhaps you didn't get to choose then, but you can choose now."

No

"..what do you mean?"

"...I was built as a soldier. Programmed to be a soldier. Spent the first 10 years of my life killing birdkind and skeletons and humans and even other robots.. now, here I am, working the night shift in a bar in the middle of nowhere."

Servos whir in his back as he relaxes, plates of metal moving into place alongside others. Faint light shines through the gaps.

"Sounds miserable."

"On the contrary, I have never felt more alive. I have a family now, a life. People see my faceplate and smile and talk about their day. I give back to them."

"...what's your point?"

"..It's never too late to change, I guess. I'm new to this whole helping people thing anyways, hahah."

Do not

He shrugs, seemingly smiling.

You need to be pure..

"Shut up."

Please..

"..."

An angel nursing her drink. Her halo shines a brilliant green, and her purpose has never been clearer. She's finally pure.

Purely herself, that is.

She's never been happier. New robes in sacreligious colors, no more makeup to hide the scars of her childhood. Maybe one day, she'll find her family, and teach them what she learned. For now, though.. she sits, and drinks, and allows herself to smile.

[teyums]

His Secret Admirer - Neteyam x fem na’vi reader

part two | part three | part four |bonus chapter

wc: 6.7k

a/n: Welcome to my Neteyam X reader series! This first part is kind of a slow burn to establish the plot so there is not much action as I hate when things are rushed. But it is cute and a bit fluffy 🤭 The events of The Way of Water never happened in this series, so this is based in the forest. Enjoy!

Neteyam is 19, reader is 18 in this series.

contains: slight fluff, as little use of y/n as possible, very minor mention of 🪦 (one time)

For as long as you could remember, you had the biggest crush on Neteyam Sully.

You couldn’t help it. He was the sweetest man in the entire clan and he acted much differently from the others. Never cocky, never boastful. It made your heart skip a beat just thinking about how he had always unapologetically been him - a genuine sweetheart and over protective from the start.

The two of you were not strangers, in fact, his presence was quite familiar to you. Throughout your younger years he would protect you from the harsh words of the other kids after witnessing you being bullied the first time. Upon finding out you spent most of your time alone and had no friends, he invited you to hang around him and his siblings with a promise of belonging. You hadn’t realized what an honor that was until you got older.

His brother and sister, Lo’ak and Kiri, quickly took a liking to you and became the friends you never had. But unfortunately for you and Neteyam, the progression of your story was cut short. As the years passed his schedule became bombarded with training duties, leaving him busy basically 24/7 and eventually causing your friendship to become less of a priority. You were hurt, but you had to understand it wasn’t personal. Once he got to a certain age, his parents allowed him to have fun and hang out with kids his age less and less; giving him constant reminders of the shoes he would grow to fill. Apparently, he had to spend every living and breathing moment training for a position you weren’t even sure he actually wanted.

Growing up, your mother told you that crushes were very simple and lighthearted. Something that was meant to make your heart flutter and your cheeks rosy. But having a crush on Neteyam was actually the exact opposite. This was Jake Sully’s son we were talking about. Girls fawned over him everyday, rightfully so. But watching them trail closely behind him as if he were metal and them magnets made your heart pang with jealousy. You knew you would never have a chance, and even if you did, there were probably so many other girls above you on the imaginary list that already had his attention. He would surely never make it down to your name once it came time for him to choose a mate.

Loving him was like yearning for something you didn’t even know existed. It was like opening your mouth to speak but remembering you didn’t have a voice to use. You weren’t a hunter or a healer, you couldn’t sing and you most definitely were not the beauty queen of the clan. You weren’t anything special, so how could you ever think you had a chance to call him yours?

“Nete-yammm” A gorgeous, tall na’vi giggled with a sing song tone, reaching out to caress any area of his body that didn’t already have a three fingered hand touching it. You cringed at the sound of her voice. That was Eyiti, the daughter of an amazing healer in your clan and probably first on his list to be his Tsahik. You absolutely loathed her, the way her eyelashes batted in his direction and how her stride became flirtatious when he was around to make the long braid that covered her queue sway side to side.

You definitely had your reasons for disliking her, one of them being that when you all were younger she had purposely tripped you and caused you to faceplant in the mud right in front of Neteyam. He had so much faith in everyone that he hadn’t even seen her foot conveniently stick out in front of you when you excitedly walked towards him. Before he could reach an arm out to help you up his dad had whisked him away, reminding him he had responsibilities he needed to tend to and at this point girls were the least of his worries.

“Is there anything we can do for you? Do you need your hair re-braided? A massage maybe?” The group asked, snapping you out of your bitter flashback when multiple different voices chirped, taking turns to offer him favors. You watched them swarm around him like vultures, his eyes searching for a way out of the circle.

“Yes, perhaps a massage! Your muscles must be sooo sore from your hunt yesterday.” Yet another voice chimed in, she literally looked like she wanted to eat the flesh off his bones and you rolled your eyes in annoyance. Why couldn’t they just leave him alone?

“Neteyam! Are you hungry? I can make something good for you to eat. You need all the energy you can get for your training later, right?”

“No!” Another na’vi woman hissed, latching onto one of his toned arms and hugging it. She almost knocked him over with the force that came from her launching herself at him. You watched him stumble to the side a bit, his stance awkward and stiff as his cheeks flushed due to all the overwhelming attention. Jeez, was she trying to hug his arm or rip it off his body to take it home with her?  You didn’t know but honestly you wouldn’t be surprised if that was her intention, these women were insane. They looked like little girls fighting over a doll with the way they were pulling him back and forth by his biceps.

“Girls, please” He spoke softly and forced a smile on his face in attempt to not hurt their feelings, or worse; make them more hostile than they already were. “I am okay, really. I do not need any of you to do anything for me other than enjoy your day. You all are…” he paused before continuing, “very beautiful and nice women but I truly must be going, I cannot be late for my meeting with my father.”

The mention of a discussion of the future with his father earned many dreamy sounding sighs from his personal fan club.

Your face grew hot when you noticed his eyes look up at you, seemingly begging for help with an almost panicked smile on his face. You pressed your lips together to stifle your laugh, then raised your hands in surrender on either side of your head to silently communicate to him that he was indeed on his own with this. You knew he’d be alright seeing as he dealt with this almost daily, but you also knew he was growing tired of it. Poor Neteyam was too nice to hurt their feelings, but even if you tried to help him what could you do? They’d probably tear you apart if you walked up and attempted to steal him away from their grasp. You sure as hell weren’t going to draw attention to yourself by intervening.

Thankfully for him, you heard Neytiri’s sharp voice yell his name from a different direction, causing the girls around him to jump and straighten up in fear of our Tsahik witnessing them behave in such a shameful manner. And from the sound of his mother’s voice- he was definitely late for that meeting. His ears perked up in alert but the expression on his face only showed relief due to her timely save.

“Gotta go girls!” He exclaimed with haste, sounding more excited now than he had their entire interaction. You sighed to yourself and gave him a subtle wave with a gentle smile, watching him take the extra second he didn’t have to smile back at you before he slipped through the small crowd and damn near sprinted to safety.

Your smile grew bigger as you watched him escape, soaking in the way his eyes had previously just held contact with yours for longer than they needed to. A daydream would have washed over you had you not felt the glares of his desperate admirers trying to burn holes through your head. You cleared your throat to break the awkward silence and swiftly turned on your heels, realizing it probably wasn’t the best idea to continue standing there if you valued your life.

~ a few hours later ~

Eclipse had now envelloped a previously sunny day, stealing the sky away and taking the sun’s place for the rest of the night. You sat with your mom on the floor of your hut, just having finished a wonderfully made dinner. “Mama, would you like help with the dishes?” You knew better than to excuse yourself before offering your assistance.

“No no, child. Go on, I know you want to take as much time as you possibly can before it gets late.” She smiled up at you and shooed you out with her hand, the wrinkles creased next to her eyes served in reminding you of how grateful you were to have had your mother by your side all these years.

“Yes mama, thank you.” Nodding your head, you at least stacked the dishes into each other to help as much as you could before you thanked her, quickly standing up from where the two of you were kneeling on the floor.

Your mother quietly laughed to herself at your excitement as you skipped to the doorway, surprised at how you didn’t trip over your own two feet as you gathered your things. You pushed through the curtains that served as a doorway to your home and once stepping foot outside, you felt your lungs expand to take a deep inhale and breathe in the crisp night air.

Almost everyday after dinner, you would excuse yourself with the permission of your mother and embark on a stroll through the forest. At first, she wouldn’t allow you to go more than half a mile without her. Her fears derived from the fact that you were no hunter and you did not like to carry weapons, meaning you could not protect yourself if the time called for it. But upon realizing you had a deep connection with the animals of the forest (and came back unscathed every time) her rules relaxed and her trust in you flourished. Even the Palulukan paid you no mind - you would still bring small chunks of meat with you though, just in case.

You expertly leaped from tree to tree with little to no time between. After taking the same path day by day it was muscle memory by now. You used the ball of your foot to stabilize your landing on the thick branches after each jump, and your opposite leg carried you to the next. This was your favorite part of everyday, traveling through the breathtaking forest with your own two legs and being able to really appreciate the vast land you called home. The way the rough, damp tree bark felt against your toes; the small chirps and mating calls of animals below you that filled your ears. You much preferred it to flying on an Ikran; they were loud and would scare away the small animals of the forest before you could say hello.

Before you knew it, you had reached your quiet hideaway above the waterfalls. A sigh of relief left your lips as you leisurely made your way up onto the bank of the cliffside; the ground illuminating briefly in the spots where you had stepped. Careful to not crush the flowers that had just recently bloomed, you crouched down closer to the ground to collect one of the things you came for. Pulling the bag you had brought with from behind your body, you patiently searched through the vegetation until locating one of your mother’s favorite herbs for stews, and another for salves.

That was the deal the two of you had made. If you were going to be out exploring the forest without her, you might as well make yourself useful and and collect what’s needed for the house. You didn’t mind though, your mother was getting older and you would do anything to make her job easier. Your father had died during the battle with the sky people almost twenty years ago and was one of many casualties. He was gone before your mother even had the chance to tell him she was pregnant. Every time you expressed sadness about it, she would hug you and remind you that he died with honor; fighting along side his people and protecting what was left of home tree. She gave birth nine months after his passing and raised you alone. She was offered help from the village, but did not want to accept pity. “We are all struggling from the aftermath of this war, not just I.” She would humbly say. She truly was the strongest person you knew.

After gathering a good amount, you gently reclined and rested against the large tree trunk that had been supporting your back for a couple weeks now. Closing your eyes, you let the sounds of the water crashing into the rocks below invite you into a calm, lucid state - the beat of your heart slowing to a steady rhythm as you lay in nature.

The serene forest awarded you with its peaceful lullaby for about fifteen minutes before the crunch of a twig snapping interrupted your meditation. You gasped quietly, whipping your head around in alert, your eyes straining to try and see through the trees. Not many animals came this high up into the forest, mostly birds or the Syaksyuk (night lemurs) swinging through the trees above. But these steps sounded heavy and that made your ears lower with worry.

“Who’s there!” You called out, rising to your feet with your hands prepped on your bag to secure your mother’s herbs in case you had to make a run for it. You squinted your eyes at the darkness in confusion, the sounds of the leaves crunching were not frequent enough to be the result of multiple feet.

“Ow! Damnit,” You heard a familiar voice curse, your ears perking back up when a tall na’vi with long braids emerged into your view.

“Neteyam?”  

He whipped his head up to look at you, his braids swaying to the other side of his head in sync with him. “[Y/n]?” He questioned right back at you. “What are you doing here? It’s late, you know.” He warned, brushing off his shoulder and looking around.  “Are you alone?”

Still confused by his sudden appearance, you shook your head slightly. “I come here almost every night, and yes I’m… alone,” you spoke, your voice quieting with the last word that left your lips as you looked at him in bewilderment. Your eyes traveled from every inch of his body and you found yourself gawking at how he looked even more beautiful while under the moonlight. Your attention quickly averted when his gaze found its way back to you, raising your head and stabilizing your tone. “Forget about me, what are you doing here?”

He noticed you staring but decided against addressing it. He chuckled and shook his head, “I too come here often,, but only during the day. The forest is very dangerous outside of our village at night, [Y/n].” He said softly and took a step closer. It almost looked as if he were worried about you.

“Yes, I-” You felt the urge to take one backwards but your feet stayed planted in the grass, your brain reminding you that you’re literally standing on a cliff right now. “I’m aware of the dangers,” you continued. “But the animals don’t pay me any mind, I actually think they sort of like me. And I always bring scraps of food, just in case.”

He nodded, seemingly approving your method of preparation.

“I don’t have anymore, though. The forest is a bit quiet tonight so I gave it all to a Palulukan I saw a little ways back.”

Neteyam’s eyes almost popped out of his head as he took a step closer to you once more, in an attempt to make sure the words he heard were correct. “A- a Palulukan?” He questioned, “Like, those six-legged creatures that will tear your head off without thinking? Are you feeling alright?” His face washed over with genuine concern as he brought a three fingered hand up to feel your forehead.

“Yes, Neteyam.” You giggled at his astonishment.  “I know what a Palulukan is, you skxawng.” You teased with an eyeroll and gently shooed his hand away, speaking up again to extinguish his worries. “But really, I’m fine. See?” You nodded slowly, extending your arms out to him to show your lack of injury.

“Huh, no scratches…” His eyes trailed along your smooth skin and you felt goosebumps prickle down your arms. You hadn’t remembered it being chilly tonight.

“No scratches,” you parroted, turning your back to him and returning to your previous resting area. “Come, sit with me.”

The corners of Neteyam’s mouth moved to form a small grin and he nodded his head in silent agreeance, taking you up on your invitation and sitting down next to you. He mimicked your movement, scooting back to relax against the base of the tree. A loud sigh of genuine relief could be heard from him and to you it sounded like he had been holding it in all day. You had your attention focused on the soft blades of grass that tickled your legs, suddenly tilting your head to the side with a new found query.

“Wait,” You started, earning a curious hum from him that permitted you to continue. “I thought you said you come here during the day time? Correct me if I’m wrong but, it looks pretty dark out here right now.” You joked.

Neteyam was always so lighthearted and easy going, so your eyebrows furrowed at him when he continued to stare straight forward at the waterfall across the ravine. You had expected him to laugh or at least crack a smile like he always did at one of your jokes, but he looked conflicted when he answered. “I just… I had to get away from my parents for a little while. They’re driving me crazy.” He grumbled.

Oh my Eywa, I’m such an idiot. This is the first time in years we’ve been completely alone and I’ve already soured his mood.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-“

“No,” He interrupted, turning his head to look at you with a smile that instantly calmed your nerves. “Don’t feel bad, it is not your fault… Besides, I’m glad I came when I did. Had I gone earlier, I wouldn’t have gotten to see you.” His voice laced thick with his accent, you felt your stomach swarm with butterflies at the feeling of his large hand now resting atop yours.  His warm yellow eyes glistened, looking even more beautiful to you than the stars above your heads. Your lips parted slightly while the two of you sat there appreciating each other’s presence, his smile growing wider when he cocked his head to the side at the apparent loss of your train of thought.

Your eyes fell from his and focused themselves on your overlapped hands so you could blush in peace, earning a quiet snicker and a head shake from him. “Yes...” you finally responded, looking back up once you confirmed your heart wouldn’t explode and ruin the moment. “It has been a while since we hung-out.” You smiled, your tone mellow.

The two of you sat with each other for a while. Time passed so quickly whenever you were around him that you didn’t even know how long it had been. You talked about everything. His parents, how your mother was doing, and overall what he’d been up to. There was never a boring moment with Neteyam. At one point you expressed interest in his training, but the excitement was not reciprocated so you dropped the topic and instead joined in stargazing with him.

“So… How was that meeting you had earlier, with your parents?” You cleared your throat and spoke up after a bit, breaking the silence.

He scoffed and scratched his head lightly, throwing his arm up in an annoyed gesture. “Stupid and unnecessary. They tell me the same thing everyday as if I don’t already know.”

“What is it now? Are they scolding you for Lo’ak’s antics again?” You giggled at his aggravated huff in response to your question, using this moment to your advantage and gently resting your head on his shoulder. You genuinely thought it would be something along those lines. But when he hesitated before letting you in on exactly what they were pestering him about, you became worried.

“They want me to find a mate. Soon.”

His shoulders tensed and you blinked in disbelief at his words, your body slouching slightly against his arm with disappointment. The words that left his lips were not at all what you had been expecting. “Oh…” Your voice was almost a whisper with how hushed it was and you were glad he couldn’t see your face right now. A thousand thoughts clouded your brain at once, were they due to surprise at what he said, or fear?

“I’m not ready.” His voice snapped you out of your pity party, and you remembered that this wasn’t about you. It was about him. You had to set aside your feelings and hear him out. You guys were just friends anyway, and what else are friends for, right?

You laughed dryly, cringing after at how forced it sounded. “I think you’re just nervous, Neteyam. Besides, you have loads of options to choose from. Any one of your admirers from earlier will do fine.” You shrugged and tried to sound as encouraging as possible, picking the petals from a flower that you had taken into your grasp after you removed your hand from his.

“None of those women will ever be my mate.” He stated sternly, as if he sounded offended that you had even suggested it. His voice was calm and the volume low, but the tone he said it in made your breath falter. “Those are not the kind of women I want. They only see me for my status in the clan.” He mumbled, his feelings sounding hurt.

You sat up and turned your body towards him, dipping your head to try and meet his avoidant eyes. “’Teyam…” you said solemnly. He still hadn’t met your eyes but his ears perked up slightly in response to the old nickname you had for him. Watching him pick blades of grass out of the ground to distract himself from the conversation, you sighed to yourself in frustration. Not at him, but at the fact that the constant reiteration of the importance of his training throughout the years really had him thinking such a thing. “Look at me.”

His head lifted slowly but his eyes wouldn’t stay on your face. He gnawed at the inside of his bottom lip, feeling embarrassed for even bringing it up.

“You-” grabbing his hand in both of yours, you shook it slightly for emphasis and squeezed firmly, “-are so much more than a title, and you know that. You are worth so much more. Do you hear me, Neteyam?” Your gaze held strong and your shyness had no control over you at this point. You wanted to make sure he understood what you were saying. You wanted to make sure he knew you were telling the truth. You needed him to.

His eyes finally locked on yours and it was his turn to feel shy this time. A small smile broke through his previous frown, and his eyes fell to your lips for a split second before he looked back up at you. “Okay.” He answered, sounding satisfied with your reassurance and stroking the back of your hand with the pad of his thumb as a thank you.

The air between the two of you felt electric when you remembered you were still holding his hand. Your chest began to rise and fall with weighted breaths when you noticed he seemed to be admiring your features. You cursed yourself for wondering what it would feel like to kiss him- thinking about how well your lips would pair with his. Your intense feelings for him had calmed slightly due to his absence, but now you felt them bubbling up and threatening to burst through the surface all over again.

A loud horn sounded suddenly, interrupting your thoughts and signaling the end of a day. The both of you jumped and your hands retracted, startled out of your intimate interaction.

“Oh my Eywa… I was supposed to be home almost an hour ago!” You exclaimed, sounding panicked as you rushed to grab your things.

Neteyam’s eyes widened and he immediately stood up, looking equally as panicked upon remembering what happened the last time he got you home late to your mother when you guys were younger.

“I-I’m sorry, this is all my fault. I distracted you.” Rubbing the back of his neck with his hand, he eagerly extended his free one out to help you up while sounding apologetic. “Come, I’ll take you home.”

You accepted his offer and allowed him to assist you to your feet, shaking your head repeatedly as you stood in front of him. “No, no. This is on me, I completely lost track of time.”

Though it wasn’t his fault you had stayed out much too late into the night, he was right about one thing. He was able to distract you so easily, you became clumsy in his presence. You mindlessly took a wrong step to the side, crying out in pain when your foot came in contact with the thorn bush you usually remember to avoid- it’s sharp and thick thorns piercing through your skin.

“What? What is it? What happened?” Neteyam questioned frantically, his voice loud and riddled with worry when you yelled and helplessly clutched onto his biceps for support.

Pain shot like lightning through your leg and with your eyes tightly shut you hissed out an answer. “M-my foot, I-” you managed to get out between sharp inhales, another cry of pain interrupting your sentence when you attempted to lower your foot to see if you could walk.

“No!” Neteyam spoke against your movement, sighing when his advice came too late. “You cannot walk like this, hold onto me and keep your foot raised.”

Now, if it didn’t feel like your entire leg was on fire, you probably would’ve crumbled at the feeling of his warm hand sliding between the fold behind your knee and lifting it slightly to assist you with his instructions.  The two of you were in such a compromising position, yet you couldn’t even enjoy it.

“Maybe we should sit down-“

You hopped a bit and shook your head, sliding your arms around his neck to reduce the weight burdened on your free leg as he held your thigh. “The thorns, they’re poisonous,” you breathed out. “I have to get home.”

“Poi-“ His mouth fell open in shock, almost repeating the word that had alarmed him. His jaw clenched seeing you in pain, he felt bad knowing he wasn’t able to help. “Can you fly? Call your ikran, now.”

“I can’t-“

“How foolish of me, you probably cannot fly. We will go on mine.” Before you could get another word out he raised his pointer finger and thumb to his lips with haste, resulting in a crisp, loud whistle.

The truth is… you couldn’t fly even if you wanted to. You never tamed an Ikran of your own and you were deathly afraid of flying. Because of this, you traveled solely by foot and had no intention of changing that. Until now.

You squealed in fear when his Ikran dropped down onto the cliffside in an instant, turning and shielding your face from its sharp, flapping wings. “Neteyam-“

“Come, we must go. There’s no time.” He urged, his eyes locked on your trembling foot as he waited for you to move.

“Wait!” you raised your voice, only to get his attention. “I’m… I’m scared of flying. Terrified.” You gulped, now looking at the giant creature but careful to not make direct eye contact.

“You are?” His voice was soft, intent on not making you feel bad for something you couldn’t control. He looked conflicted. Neteyam was never the type of man to make you do something you didn’t want to do, but he truly had no choice.  “[Y/n], I am sorry, but we must. We need to tend to your wound as soon as possible. I understand your fear, so I will tell her to fly slow. No sharp tuns or dips, yes?”

Closing your eyes for a second, you sighed and slowly nodded your head. You attempted to calm yourself and slow your breathing as best as you could, knowing there was no other option but to face your fear. He waited for you to prepare yourself before swooping his arm below your legs and lifting you off the ground gently.

You actually wanted to kick yourself. To be in his arms was everything you wanted and more, minus the raging pain paired with numbness that was slowly starting to travel past your toes. You tightened your hold on his neck once arriving at the Ikran’s saddle and he felt your body tense against him.

“Mawey, [Y/n]. It will be alright, I promise.” Delicately placing you down on the back of his Ikran, he motioned for you to swing your other leg over before climbing on in front of you. “Hold here.” He reached behind him and grasped your hands, bringing them forward and positioning your palms  to lay flat on his toned chest.

Your heart was beating so fast, you were surprised you even heard his voice through the loud thumping ringing in your ears.

“You feel my heart?”

“Y-yes.” You nodded almost as soon as the question left his mouth. His heart was the only thing you could feel. Hell, you couldn’t even feel your legs but you knew the numbing poison hadn’t travelled through your bloodstream that fast. You prayed they would regain feeling so you wouldn’t fall off this giant bird.

“Slow your breathing, listen to the beat of my heart and allow yours to do the same.” He instructed calmly, fastening his hands on the reigns.

You swallowed what felt like a giant lump in your throat, scooting closer to him and leaning forward to press your front against his back as he prepared to take off. The feeling of your skin against his was enough to make your breath shudder, but you really couldn’t use anymore excitement right now. “What if I fall?” You whispered.

“Nonsense,” He chuckled lowly and the vibration of his voice could be felt against your cheek. “You know I’d never let anything happen to you.”

You pulled back ever so slightly, your mouth agape and your eyes staring at the back of his head in disbelief at how easily those words came to him. However, your moment of pondering was cut short when he beckoned his Ikran to take off, your grip retightening and your body gluing back to his instantly. The large animal squawked before plunging itself off the cliff, resulting in a frightened scream from you.

“Tamtam, Saya. We have a new rider with us, and she’s a bit fearful.”  Pulling up slightly, he used one of his hands to softly pat her strong neck to soothe her. The animal listened to his demands, flying steadily and slowing her pace to a gentle glide through the air. “How are you doing back there?” He asked, as if your nails digging crescent marks into his pecs couldn’t give him the answer he searched for.

Finally opening your eyes, you carefully peeked over your shoulder and peered down at the forest below you, letting out a small gasp. Softening the grip you had on the man in front of you, your eyes twinkled with admiration. “Neteyam, i-it’s beautiful…” you spoke in awe. You had never seen the forest from above until now and experiencing such a sight with him made you feel as if you had been missing out this entire time. You almost completely forgot about the fear that consumed you just a few minutes prior.

After a few more minutes, Saya began to descend in front of your home- pulling you out of the spell the beauty of the forest had cast on you. The flight came to a gradual halt and her wings flapped in place to cushion the landing as much as possible. You saw the flickering of candle flame illuminating from inside.

Oh no. Please don’t be awake, please don’t be awake, please do not be awake.

Silently cursing yourself, you removed your hands from Neteyam’s chest. You secretly pouted at the sudden lack of warmth, but right now you had bigger issues to tend to- one of them being facing your mother. Neteyam dismounted swiftly, giving you a reassuring look and allowing you time to slide one of your arms around his neck before lifting you off, carrying you bridal style. “Not so bad, huh?”

Both your heads snapped to the entrance of your home as you watched your mother run out before you could answer him. “[Y/N!]” She yelled, not caring if her voice carried to the other homes. “Where have you been?!”

She looked worried sick, you felt terrible.

“Neteyam?” She questioned, obviously confused as to why he was with you- or maybe why you weren’t standing on your own two feet.

“Hi Ma…” You started, earning an angry glare from her. “I can explain.”

She whipped a hand up and closed her fingers, effectively silencing you as she turned her gaze back to Neteyam. “Young man, what were you doing with my daughter, this late in the night?” Her voice was eerily calm.

He lowered his head slightly to show respect. “I am sorry, I will explain everything… but your daughter is injured and we must tend to it, immediately.”

Her expression changed instantly, her eyes searching to find a wound until she noticed your swollen foot. “Oh my goodness… Come!” She demanded, urging Neteyam to bring you into the house.

“Place her down, here. Gently.”

He did as he was told and crouched down, removing his arm from beneath your legs once you sat down completely. He ran his now sweaty hands along his thighs and with his mouth in the shape of an ‘O’ he exhaled nervously, standing and obediently placing himself against the wall. He looked scared shitless and was more than happy to remove his hands from your skin in the presence of your agitated mother. You looked up at him apologetically, mouthing a silent ‘I’m sorry’.

You winced in pain at your throbbing foot, taking over for Neteyam and explaining to your mother what had happened before she could ask again. “I-I stepped in a thorn bush,” You paused, reluctantly continuing your sentence. “the poisonous one…”

She hissed in distaste, her back to you as she gathered what was needed to make medicine. “Everyday you go out, what do I tell you?” She seethed.

“Be care-“

“To be careful!” She cut you off before you could finish and you winced again, but not because of your foot. She lowered herself to the ground and propped your foot up on her leg to examine it. “You are lucky, child. The thorns could have broken off in your foot and put you in much worse shape.” She grumbled, wetting a cloth and using it to clean the dried blood from your skin.

“I know, and I’m sorry. I lost track of time and got distracted.” The pain began to subside as the poison completely numbed your foot, now working its way up your calf.

You watched her gaze shift to a nervous Neteyam who stood stiff and silent against the walls of your hut, looking at him suspiciously while he tried to find the right words to use.

“Ma, please.” You pleaded, your voice bringing her attention back to you like you wanted. “It was not like that, I swear it. He found me after I stepped on the thorns, had it not been for him I would not have been able to make it back.” You had lied a bit, but it was mostly the truth. “He had nothing to do with this, it was all my fault. He only helped me home, Mama.” You didn’t want her blaming Neteyam for something that wasn’t his doing, he had enough of that at home. Your mother was extremely protective over you because of what happened to your father, you were all she had left so she always came on strong at first when it concerned you.

She became quiet in a moment of contemplation, “I apologize, Neteyam. Thank you for bringing my daughter back to me safely.” She nodded her head, looking up at Neteyam with gratitude this time.

He smiled shyly as if it were no big deal, holding his arm with one hand as he dropped his head and shook it from from side to side, his braids following suit. He hadn’t changed a bit. Always quick to take the blame, but never to accept praise.

“Will your parents be angry with you?” You chimed in, looking at him worriedly. He already had so much on his plate, you felt bad at the thought of contributing. You relaxed slightly once he shook his head in attempt to assure you that he would be okay.

“It is fine, really. Making sure you are safe is far more important to me.” He responded, looking into your eyes and keeping them there until your mother cleared her throat to remind the two of you of her presence.  “Ah, but I really should be going. It is late.” He swallowed, managing to tear his eyes away from your face. “Will she be alright?”

Your mother nodded, wiping the wet cloth along the sole of your foot once more. “Yes, thanks to you. Please, greet your parents for me?”

You watched as he brought two fingers up to his forehead then brought them back down with a slight bow, respectfully acknowledging your mother and excusing himself.

“Goodnight…” You sent him off with a coy wave, bringing your fingers up to gently rest against your lips as you watched him leave. The second he was out of your sight, everything that had just transpired in the last hour and a half began to wash back over you.

Thanking Eywa that your mother’s back was turned to grab few ingredients for an ointment, you looked to the side and picked up your bag, feeling slightly guilty. “I brought your herbs, mama. I’m sorry you have to waste them on me.” Your voice trailed off as you ushered them off in her direction.

“Nonsense. When it comes to you, nothing is a waste. We can always get more herbs, but I only have one of you. Do you understand?” She reassured, her hand on your cheek to comfort you before reaching for your bag. “You mean much more to me than any of these things.”

Your shoulders relaxed and you leaned into her touch with a sweet smile and a nod, grateful you had such a caring mother. You watched as she expertly ground up the herbs with a bit of aloe vera, her technique crafting it into paste that would aid in the healing of your injury. She dipped two of her fingers into the bowl, gently applying it to the puncture marks in your flesh.

“So…” She started, her voice laced with curiosity.

You groaned, bringing your hands up to cover your face in embarrassment as you already knew a boatload of questions were about to follow. Regardless of how tough your mother could be with him, she was surprisingly supportive of your crush on Neteyam and even encouraged it. You always made sure to tell her what a respectful young man he was.

“I haven’t even said anything yet!” She laughed, grabbing the bandage next to her and wrapping it around your foot as she continued. “Look, I just think you should go for it. You should to tell him how you feel, don’t you think he deserves to know?”

You sighed and looked down at your hands, twiddling with your fingers as you thought of what to say. “I don’t know Ma… I don’t want to get hurt. His parents want him to find a mate now, but he said he isn’t ready.”

“My sweet child,” Your mom took your hands into hers, causing you to look up at her.  “He is waiting for you.”

a/n: Alright y’all, the first part of my Neteyam x reader series is doneeee ahh I’m so excited!! Isn’t Neteyam the sweetest? 🙈 I really hope you guys enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it! It took about three days and so many grueling proof reads, so if they’re still any typos I missed I apologize. 😅 I am actively tweaking my brain for more ideas for the upcoming parts, so please forgive me if part 2 takes a second to drop. lmk if you want to be tagged! 💞

Please like + reblog if you can it’s much appreciated 💞

[lockheed-martin-unofficial]

Starscream is given a bath, Part 2:

759 words on this part! I’m trying to make these cuts as natural as possible, but for the record it is meant to be read as all one big thing.

Part 1: here

Part 3: here

——————————————————————————

“So…” she stood back to take a rest after she was done cleaning, resting her hands on the singular engine inlet mounted right below the cockpit.

“I’m gonna have to get in your intake next, promise you won’t shred me?”

The aircraft chuckled, sending a low vibration through his entire frame.

“I have no intention of doing that today.” He answered casually. “Unless you ask me nicely.” He gave the fan a slight turn, which earned him an instinctive flinch from the human, though she quickly collected herself. Starscream laughed once more at the reaction.

“Oh, relax, I’m not looking forward to picking out your guts from my compressor.”

A moment of silence.

“Just…be careful in there?” He asked, his voice more pleading this time.

“I will.” She replied, and the aircraft lowered himself enough that it would be easy to reach into the air intake.

It was far roomier than it would appear from afar, so much so that she was able to climb her way inside and sit with her legs crossed. Inside was a little warmer than the rest of the room, but it was obvious the engine had been dormant since he arrived at her house. The human carefully scrubbed the inner walls until they turned a lighter color, making sure not to use too much soap when she got closer to the fan, as she didn’t want his engine ingesting water while being rinsed. There were more of those pleasant lights, similar to the lights inside the wheel well, leading from the entryway to the engine itself. She could see a subtle glow emanating from deeper inside the compressor. Was he doing that intentionally, making it bright inside so she could see her way around? The human chuckled at the thought, and brushed off a curious “Hm?” from Starscream.

“It’s nothing, don’t worry.”

Despite her previous reservations about being shredded, she couldn’t help but inch closer to the fan, scrubbing the edges and even… very carefully, touching the fan blades. She wouldn’t deny she found it interesting, if not beautiful.

“I thought you wanted nothing to do with my engine.” His voice echoed as he felt the touch, seemingly coming from every direction. Of course it would, she was almost inside his fuselage. He sounded a mix of smug and curious.

“Well…” she yawned again, using the shower head to blast some water up at her own face in defeat. As comfy a spot as this had turned out to be, she couldn’t fall asleep just yet.

“I don’t ’not want anything to do with your engine.’ It’s… it’s like cleaning a loaded gun, you know? Even when I know the guy holding it has no intention of firing it into my face, it’s still a loaded gun. Your engine is very powerful.”

He thought for a second.

“I see.”

Another pause. The human continued with the finishing touches.

“I suppose I should be… thanking you for this.” A hint of embarrassment was barely noticeable in his tone.

“Don’t worry about it.” The human replied nonchalantly, slowly climbing her way out of the intake after she was satisfied with the cleanliness.

“We’re a team now. It’s only natural I’m gonna want to help you, just…”

The moment she was a safe distance away, before she could finish her sentence, the aircraft transformed back into his regular form, squeezed awkwardly into the bathtub. He had his knees pulled up to his body, arms draped awkwardly around them as he hunched forward ever so slightly. The odd positioning of his frame had given his wings ample space to move, at the very least. Starscream had an awkward, almost guilty expression on his faceplate.

“…don’t make it any more difficult for you than it has to be?” He guessed, wings pricking up as he spoke.

“Yeah.”

He had found it amusing to watch her tend to him, just going along with anything he decided to do without complaining. But now, remembering the human had no true obligation to help him in the first place, he… it’s not like he felt bad, per se. It wasn’t like he was forcing her to do any of this. It was her own fault, obliging him. But he was afraid that if he went too far, he would suddenly find himself not receiving any help from the human at all. And he had to admit this had been growing on him. It wasn’t so bad, it was comforting, even. And comfort wasn’t something Starscream could risk losing chasing an ego boost.

[widowbitessting]

Baby It's Hot Outside - A Sugar Mommies Drabble

Word Count: 1729

Rating: General with fluffy scenes. SFW!

Summary: The One Where MJ cares for you.

Dom!Natasha Romanoff, Dom!Wanda Maximoff, Dom!Carol Danvers x Sub!Reader

You can’t open the door to your own apartment. It’s your first sign that the headache you’ve had for the past hour might be transforming into a migraine. And it sucks. Pain resonates behind your eyeballs and you have to squint to see where the stupid moving lock is so you can get inside. 

Has it always been so low down? Surely not.

The key finally does its job and you’re allowed inside your own apartment, near collapsing on the floor as you go. 

Definitely too hot today. Seriously too hot. 

It’s your own fault really; your classmate in all her wisdom kept offering you caffeine and you, in all of your wisdom, kept accepting. 

So now you're coming down from the copious amount of caffeine, mix that with the grand total of 0 litres of water you’ve had as well as the sheer heat of the day, and it’s no wonder you feel like your head is going to explode. 

Mistakes have definitely been made. 

You somehow manage to get to your sofa, falling onto the not so soft cushions face first. The sudden dark does a lot to sooth your eyes and you don’t know how long you stay like that, only shifting slightly to breathe, until MJ nb udges your leg with her foot.

“Two people live here, y’know. Move over.”

You don’t even try to form a coherent reply, moving your heavy body like she asks, wrapping yourself up into a ball. The shiver that wrecks through your body trembles the entire sofa and MJ doesn’t seem to notice. She clicks on Netflix and settles with her hot chocolate, completely unaware of your dying state beside her. 

She glances your way when your phone rings, looking at the picture of Wanda as it flashes up on your cell. You don’t even move, eyes squinting shut against the dim light of the living room. For you, they feel like spotlights. 

You shift uncomfortably on the sofa. 

Your phone pings a minute later; a text from Wanda, asking you to call her ASAP, she’s having an icecream emergency - aka: she wants ice cream but Natasha and Carol won’t allow her. 

You know she’s messaged in your group chat because your phone begins to after every few seconds.

Why didn’t you mute your phone? Why?

It doesn’t take long for MJ to let out a frustrated sigh and kick her feet so they’re under her. Her toes tickle your right foot, making you jerk and when you still don’t make a move to check your phone, MJ does it again.

“Dude, answer them or I’m throwing your cell out of the window.”

It takes all of your energy to move, and even then, you misjudge the end of the sofa and almost faceplant the floor. 

With trembling arms, you struggle to hold your upper body weight and here is where MJ finally takes pity on you.

“This is painful, move.”

She snatches your phone for you and goes to pass it when she finally registers your appearance. 

“Woah…you’re not about to die on me are you? I’d have three pissed off women on my case if you do.” 

You shudder. MJ throws your phone aside and lifts you up by your armpits, settling you back on your original position on the sofa. 

“Y/N? What’s wrong?”

You can only shake your head. 

“I know this isn’t the time to notice this but that medicated deodorant you’re using really works, you’re bone dry!” MJ lets out a nervous chuckle. “Laugh, Y/N/N. You always laugh at my crappy jokes…even if they are pitiful…get it?” 

You don’t even smile as a response and MJ jumps to her feet.

“Oh my god, you are dying!” 

“...not…dying…sick…”

“You are sick, you feel sick or you’re going to be sick?” 

“...all of the above.” 

MJ falls over herself as she sprints into the kitchen. She returns with the anointed “puke bucket” which is a mixing bowl you had ended up using one time after too many shots. No sooner does she place it near your face, do you start to heave, body jerking gags where you think your stomach is going to come up out of your throat. 

She touches your forehead. 

“You’re burning up. Have you eaten something bad? Drank too much?” 

“...not…” You spit out a wad of saliva. “...enough.”

“You haven’t eaten enough?” Something in MJ’s brain clicks. “Please tell me you’ve been drinking water today, Y/N. Please.” 

You shake your head.

“I’d hit you if you weren’t so fragile. You’ve not drunk anything? Dude! It’s one of the hottest days of the year!” 

“I had…coffee and stuff…” 

You grimace and turn away from the bowl.

“You are actually going to die. They’re going to murder you, you know that? And then turn on me because I’m an unknowing accomplice. You’ve only had coffee all day? Y/N!” 

“Don’t tell them.”

“How can I not? They’re bound to ask where you are! And what if they make a surprise trip to see you? You’re not exactly in a fit shape to fuck right now, are you, Y/N/.”

“MJ -” 

“Fine. If they don’t ask I won’t tell them. Deal?” 

“Okay, deal.”

“Right, you - don’t move. Don’t die. I’ll get you some water and a fan. Or something.”

MJ gets your water first, filling it with ice before rethinking and dumping it down the sink; before stopping again and getting slightly less ice for your glass. 

“I have no idea what I’m doing.”

Now with a full drink, and a straw because why not, MJ places it in front of you with the strict instruction to “Sip it, don’t inhale it.” 

She takes your phone when your head is in the sick bowl and vanishes into her bedroom; unlocking it with your passcode and finding the group chat with your girlfriends. 

“Who’s the least terrifying? Natasha, no chance. Carol, maybe…Wanda…you’ll have to do.”

She picks up on the third ring. 

“Hi baby!”

“Hey to you too.” 

“…MJ?”

“Hi, the one and only.”

“Where’s Y/N? Not that I don’t appreciate talking to you but I’d much prefer to talk to my girlfriend.”

“She’s not…well. I told her I wouldn’t tell you but I’m genuinely worried about her.”

“What’s going on?” Natasha’s voice cuts through your phone speaker and MJ wants nothing more than to throw your phone away and hide under the nearest bed. 

“Michelle Jones, talk.” 

“I hate it when you do that.” MJ grumbles. “Y/N’s sick.”

“Sick, how?”

“God, she’s gonna kill me…erm,” MJ pinches the bridge of her nose. “She didn’t drink any water and I’m 90% sure she spent most of her day outside and it’s been super hot and she’s not well and I’m worried about her…I don’t know what to do.” 

Natasha is silent for a moment. 

“Stay with her. We’ll be there as soon as possible, understood? Let her sip, not inhale, at cool water. Not ice cold, it'll shock her system. Is she hot to the touch?” 

“She’s hot, yeah. And not in her usual way either.” 

“Get a damp cloth, that’ll help cool her off.” Natasha orders. “And MJ? Thank you for telling us.”

“Any…anytime I guess. Not that I want Y/N to get heat stroke or whatever it is again, ‘cos it’s scary and stuff but if she ever misbehaves again, you bet your ass I’ll be right on this phone to rat her out. I’ll even spank her for you if you can't get her fast enough.”

“MJ, breathe girl. Get some oxygen into those lungs. We’ll discuss this at a later date when you aren’t so frazzled. We’ll be there soon, okay? 30 minutes, max.” 

“Okay, yeah, okay. Bye.”

“Damp cloth and cool water, MJ.”

“On it.”

MJ’s hands tremble when she returns to you with the items; a regular glass of water in one hand and a semi filled bowl with a wet cloth in the other. She takes the iced water from you and replaces it; ordering you to sip it slowly while she pats your head with the washcloth. 

You do little to fight her.

“I’m not well, MJ.” 

“I know, Y/N/N, I know. But you’re gonna get better soon, yeah? Just try to relax as much as you can. Google says you should start to feel better in 30 minutes or so.”

She places the washcloth on the back of your neck.

It takes you 23 minutes to feel slightly more human.

It takes 24 minutes for the Trio! to get to your apartment. 

You can only stare as they walk inside, eyes locking onto your slouched form on the sofa with a straw between your lips.

You know you’re in for it when you’re better and you nervously swallow, offering them a sheepish smile.

“...hi…”

Wanda stares at your fragile state, a mixture of emotions clouding her eyes, from guilt to a slight twinge of insecurity. She wants to wrap you up and promise to be a better dom; for herself but most importantly for you.

Carol makes a beeline straight for you and starts fussing over you. She caresses your cheek and feels your forehead, frowning slightly, before reaching over for the washcloth. As she dabs at your face, wiping away the tears that tumble from your eyes, Natasha, with Wanda beside her, moves closer and places a gentle kiss on your damp temple. 

“Hey there, little kotenok, how are we feeling, hmm?” 

They’re there. Your trio. There to finally care for you and you instantly feel safe. Comforted by their presence and you reach out, grabbing the nearest body to drag them down on top of you. Wanda’s scent fills your nose and you nestle into her neck. 

“Am I in trouble?” you whisper and you can feel her grinning. 

“Oh yes,” she replies, “but not right now. Tomorrow maybe. But for now, rest sweet girl. We’re here.” 

You can only nod as Carol gently moves Wanda so she can scoop you up into her arms. 

As you’re carried away to your bedroom, you can see Natasha speaking quietly to MJ; and make the mental note to ask her what was said. But for now, you allow yourself to be carried away. Not even five minutes later, nestled against Wanda, you doze off with a smile.  

[bellysoupset]

Sick at Home - Part 3

@beanizsmol

----------

Vince slept past his alarm. He never did that, no matter how tired he was, the noise always managed to wake him up. But this time, he slept past it and then past a phone call from Wendy at seven thirty and then past one from his mother at 8 AM.

He woke up with coughing, eyes peeling open like they had been glued down and for a second he just sat there, rubbing at his face and trying to pinpoint what exactly was going on.

He was freezing and his stomach hurt like he had swallowed nails. His head was pounding and there was an incessant noise that took Vince a second to realize was Sophia heaving over her bucket.

He jumped up and immediately regretted it when the room spun around him and caused his knees to buckle. Vince grabbed her desk, bringing a bunch of glittery pens and notebooks to the ground, but managing to stop himself from faceplanting her floor.

Behind him, Sophia let out a wet belch and he heard another heave, followed by her hyperventilating. Vince swallowed a heave of his own, stumbling towards her bed. He wasn't able to stand upright, so he crawled on it and flinched as he saw just how red Soph's face was. There weren't tears running down her cheeks, but she was clearly sobbing, a rope of saliva hanging from her bottom lip and her blue eyes all bloodshot.

"Vin-" Her voice came out hoarse and Vince scooted up on the bed so he managed to sit almost behind her. His movements were jerky and uncoordinated, but he managed to hold back her hair with one hand, the other one rubbing her back up and down.

"My head is killing me, Vin..." Sophia whined, turning so she could bury her face against his chest. Normally he'd be over the moon with such affection, but at that moment all that the gesture caused was more pressure on his stomach and Vince pressed a fist to his mouth, muffling a gag against it.

"Water," he grumbled, squeezing her, "you need water."

"Can't- Won't stay down..." Sophia sniffled pathetically and Vince pressed his eyes closed, trying to muster up energy to force her to drink something. Hell, he needed to check on Livia, the panic was starting to cling to him like cold sweat and making him claustrophobic.

"Stay- Stay here..." Vince rolled off the bed and stumbled up, bracing against her wall and taking shallow breaths.

"Vin?" Sophia called in a little voice and he forced his eyes open, ignoring the little colorful pulsating spots that were dancing around her head. His sister was curled up as much as she could, frowning at him and he wasn't entirely sure why she was angry. He hadn't done anything- "are you okay?"

"Liv," Vince answered instead, taking deep, steadying breaths and forcing his legs to keep moving, "gotta check on Liv, high fevers are dangerous with little kids," and if something happened to Livia because he was too sick, he'd die.

Vince nearly went down to his knees when he entered Livia's bedroom and she was starfished in bed, peacefully asleep. Vince sat at the foot of her bed and let out a relieved sigh when he touched her and she felt cold to the touch. The seven year old had sweat through another set of PJs, but she seemed sound asleep and Vince grabbed the thermometer abandoned on her bedside table, holding it to her ear.

"How high is it?" Sophia asked, startling him. Vince stomach soured up even more at the mild jump, causing him to gulp down.

"Hmm-" he swallowed the saliva pooling in his mouth, "101ºF.... That's good, right?"

Sophia nodded, then let out an exhausted sigh and climbed Livia's bed, wrapping herself up around her little sister as if the kid was a teddy bear. Vince felt almost envious, that was exactly what he wanted to do, but his stomach had other ideas.

"Give me that," Soph opened her hand to grab the thermometer, then held it to her own ear, "you look like shit, Vin."

He huffed out a breath, staring at his shoes. The room was pulsating, he wasn't sure how that was even possible.

"Uhm... A little under 102," Sophia announced, holding the device for him to read, but Vince couldn't even begin to put the numbers together, "your turn."

Vince shook his head, then ignored Soph's complaints as his belly flipped. He slammed a hand to his lips, but didn't have any strength to get up.

Instead, he collapsed out of Livia's bed, to his hands and knees, and gagged fruitlessly. His senses were tricking him, his stomach felt full and his head was swimming, he was freezing as if he had dipped into a frozen lake and Vince wanted to cry...

"Shit, you're super warm," Sophia was draped on his back all of sudden, her voice filtering through the ringing in his ears. Vince coughed, managing to bring up a splash of bile, all over the floor. What a mess.

"Sophie..." Livia sounded pitiful and terrified and he had no idea when she had woke up, "Soph, I don't like this, I want mamma-"

"I don't like this either," Sophia scoffed, shaking Vince a little, "Vin? Vin, please, I'm scared, what do I do? I'm going to call mamma-"

"No," Vince managed to say, shaking his head. He dizzily reached behind him, grabbing the bed to pull himself up and Livia promptly latched on his wrist as if she could be of any help. He took a breath, wiping his mouth, "get my phone, please."

Sophia was happy to be bossed around and she bolted out of the room, while Livia crawled on his lap, puke be damned, her little fingers all over his face, "Vin?"

"I'm'kay," he turned his head to kiss her palm, closing his eyes for a second-

"Is he passed out!?" Sophia's voice was too loud and Vince frowned, forcing his eyes open. He was flat on his back now, although he didn't remember lying down at all. Livia was sitting by his side, curled up, bottom lip trembling, face all red as she was clearly crying.

"Not-no..." Vince squeezed his eyes shut and open again, staring at the ceiling, "call Max."

He wanted Wendy, but she was 4 hours away and even feverish as he was, Vince knew they needed someone now.

"Who?"

"Max," Vince rolled on the bed, his face met Livia's lap and he couldn't bring himself to move when his baby sister wrapped her arms around his head like an octopus, "Daniels."

"Mr. Daniels?" Sophia held the phone to his face, so she could get the face ID, before snatching it back, "my chemistry teacher?"

"Yea-" Vince muffled a sick burp against Liv's lap, "tell him to come over."

He was floating in and out of consciousness. Half listening as Sophia stammered and nearly died of embarrassment as she called Max, then as she peeled off Livia from him, ignoring the kid's complaints.

He was drifting, sinking into the dark, when suddenly he was shaken harshly, "Hey, Monacelli," Max's voice was rough, alarmed, "man, wake up. C'mon, don't have me call an ambulance."

Vince frowned, forcing his eyes open.

Daniels was standing over him, looking more than a little pissed off. His blonde hair was pulled up in a ponytail, so the undercut was showing, and he was wearing what Vince assumed were gym clothes, although he'd never peg Max as the type to frequent one.

"Welcome back to the land of the living," Max huffed, "can you sit up?"

Vince nodded, although he wasn't so sure. He looked around the room, dizzily, "where- Where-"

"Livia and Sophia are in your bedroom. The bed is bigger and its not as messy. Livia is having breakfast, I got her some cereal. Sophia is sleeping."

"Fever-" Vince slurred, trying and failing to push himself up. He was flooded by a sense of relief that his sisters were taken care of, which was a bad thing, since panic was the only thing holding him together. It was suddenly much harder to keep his eyes open.

"Livia's fever is almost gone," Max moved and grabbed Vince's hoodie by the front with both hands, using all his force to pull the other man sitting up, "Sophia took some Tylenol, I'll check on her in a second. None of them are half as bad as you- You're burning up."

"Hmmm," was Vince's sleepy answer, all fight leaving him. Max slapped his cheek, not too kindly.

"Wake up, don't pass out on me-" he pushed something against Vince's lips and the man frowned, forcing his eyes open again. He didn't remember closing them. Max was suddenly really close, forcing a straw in his mouth, "drink up, you're super dehydrated. Sophia said you didn't drink anything."

"Snitch," Vince scoffed, then took a gulp and immediately groaned as it settled like a punch in his stomach. He didn't even quite swallow it down, before his belly was squeezing with a retch, rejecting it. Max barely had time to scramble back, as Vince puked the little splash of Gatorade on his front and let out a sob, "fuck-"

"Shit, Vince," Max chewed on his lip, worried, "I think you need a hospital, man."

"No," Vince shook his head, grimacing at the wet spot on his hoodie, "help me-"

"Oh yeah, yeah, sorry-" Max cringed at his own lack of action, helping Vince strip off the piece of clothing, "don't go anywhere, I'll be back in a second."

Vince let out an amused huff at the prospect of him moving, when he could barely stay awake. He closed his eyes once again, hating the way the room was spinning and the heavy weight in his stomach... Something like ice touched his face and Vince scrambled, only for Max to grab him by the shoulder.

"HEY! Stay put!" Max's bedside manners were atrocious, as he all but shouted at Vince in order to snap him out of the fever induced panic. Nevertheless, it worked. Vin settled back down against the pillows, his heart hammering, eyes darting around in a paranoid way until he realized Max was simply holding a wet towel to his face.

"Christ, you're a mess," Max pouted, wiping him face and chest, "we need to cool you down, your brain is probably melting..."

The visual caused Vince to grimace and gag and the blonde widened his eyes, "oh, for fuck's sa- Vince!" he snapped his fingers in front of the other man's eyes, "stop that. No more puking."

"Check on the girls," Vince rasped out, "Sophia's in bad shape..."

"Sophia is fine," Max glared at him, "her fever was going down and she managed to keep down water, unlike you. Livia-"

"She doesn't like cereal," Vince let his eyes slip closed again, turning his head so he could press his forehead to the inside of Max's wrist, "she'll puke again."

"You're insufferable," Max scoffed, draping the wet towel over him like a blanket, "I'll be right back."

Next time Vince woke up, he was alone in the room. The towel draped over him had changed into a different one and it was dry by then. He could hear giggling down the hall. Vin's throat was scratchy and he had a killer headache, but the floaty feeling from before had diminished.

He stumbled up, using the wall as support and forcing himself to get out of the room.

Max was sitting with his legs crossed, boots gone and just in his socks, in Vince's bed. Livia was sitting on his lap and Sophia lying down, rolled on her side, they were playing UNO cards.

Vince braced against the threshold, squinting at how bright the room was. All windows were open in the house, which caused him to shiver.

"You're such a cheater, Daniels," Sophia said in a raspy voice, although it sounded amused. Max rolled his eyes, noticing Vince in the doorway, but all he said was:

"No, I'm not," he kissed Livia's head, "are we cheating, Liv?"

"No, we're not!"

"See," he grinned at Sophia, smugly, before grabbing Livia's waist and planting her sitting on the mattress, "keep kicking your sister's ass. I'll be right back."

Vince moved out of the doorway before the girls could see him and Max met him in the hallway, planting his hands on his hips and looking a whole lot like a worried mother, "the fuck are you doing out of bed?"

"Thirsty," Vince whispered and Max rolled his eyes.

"You could've asked for water," he said, grabbing Vince's arm and shoving him in the direction of Livia's room, only for the other man to stop moving altogether.

"Tired of the bed," he rubbed at his forehead, grimacing at his greasy hair, "need a shower."

"You're gonna slip and die," Max glared at him, "you can barely stand."

"I feel gross," Vince groaned, wrapping an arm around his stomach - Since when he was shirtless? - "I wanna shower."

Max stared at him, seemingly not sure of what the hell to do, before sighing and nodding, "okay... You're gonna leave the door open," he steered Vin back in his own bedroom, where the girls were.

As soon as they stepped inside, Livia was rushing up, squealing "VINNY!" and hugging him by the legs. He wanted nothing more than scoop her up, but just the idea of bending to pick her up was enough to have his head swimming again. Max's grip around his arm was iron tight.

"Hey bambi," he messed Livia's greasy curls, she needed a shower as well. Sophia didn't get up from the bed, but she sat up, staring at him worriedly.

"You sure you should be standing?" She raised a skeptical eyebrow.

"I'm fine," Vince said, at the same time as Max answered:

"No, he shouldn't."

"I'm fine," Vin insisted, stroking Livia's face when she hugged his stomach, "I just need a shower and some water."

Daniels scoffed, but didn't say anything, only crouching down and grabbing Livia by her armpits, stopping her from attempting to climb Vince like a cat would, "c'mere, little monster," he threw her up, hugging her closer, then pointed at Vince, "keep the door open, go."

"He's bossy," Sophia giggled from her spot and Vince nodded, stumbling forward.

Showering proved to be a bigger challenge than Vince was expecting and he was panting and dizzy by the time he managed to wash his hair. He didn't have any energy to get out of the shower, so he only braced against the wall, pressing his forehead to the cold tiles and trying to will his stomach to stay in place as the nausea returned with vengeance.

He ended up stumbling out of the shower in order to lean over the toilet, still naked, and retch weakly until his body managed to bring up a splash of bile and trickle of red. Vince's head swam and he slumped forward, hugging the toilet, just as Max said, "What the- Is that blood?!"

"Uhm," Vince answered unhelpfully, as Daniels stepped around him to close the shower and threw a towel over him. The blonde crouched down next to him, a hand squeezing Vince's nape.

"God, Vince, how- Yeah, I'm dragging your ass to the emergency room," Max decided, "c'mon, get up. Hope keeping your curls pretty was worth it, you idiot."

"No- No'spital..." Vince slurred, leaning against Max's arms and nearly sending the blonde flat on his back, "I'm not... Not puking blood," his stomach flipped once more and he groaned, swallowing down the nausea, "scratched throat."

"Yeah, I don't believe you," Max sighed, forcing him to sit up right, "up, get up. You need some clothes, I don't want you to catch pneumonia on top of this plague."

"Gon... Gonna be sick again," Vince groaned, feeling dangerously close to tears. He was tired of being strong, he wanted to be in bed and feeling fine, "sorry."

"You don't have anything to bring up," Max's voice was strained as he threw one of Vince's arms around his neck and used his whole body to pull him up, "Girls, close your eyes."

Vince cringed in embarrassment as he stumbled in the room, naked, the towel had already slipped down his waist and was on the ground, and saw Sophia with her eyes shut and covering Liv's with a hand.

"Sorry..."

"Vinny," Livia grabbed Sophia's wrist, "are you-"

"I'm not dying," he scoffed, already knowing what she was going to ask. He was going to find whoever taught his baby sister about death and strangle them.

"He's just stubborn and annoying and-" Max dropped him on the bed, causing the whole thing to jostle and Sophia to let out a squeal, "really fucking heavy."

"I keep telling him to go on a diet," Soph said unhelpfully, causing all three of them to let out a scoff.

"He doesn't need a diet," Max said, at the same time that Liv exclaimed, "Vinny is fluffy! Stop being mean!" and Vince answered, "fuck off, Sophia."

She let out a little whine at all three answers and Vince struggled to sit up as Max let go off him in order to dig up a fresh set of sweatpants.

"We're getting way too friendly here, Monacelli," Max teased him, as he had to crouch down and help Vince slide up the pants. He straightened up, patting Vince's thigh, "alright, you can open your eye- Livia!"

Livia had jumped Vince the second Sophia let go of her, causing her brother to let out a groan and squeeze his mouth in a tight line. Max let out a tired sigh, feeling a wave of sympathy for his...Friend? Yeah, Vince was his friend, he decided. He had just hauled the guy around naked, they were more than acquaintances, they were friends.

He had been in the house for around six hours now and he was already done for, he couldn't fathom how Vince was able to keep up with the girls while so sick himself.

"It's okay," Vince breathed out, moving on the bed so he was in the middle of it and Sophia, for all her attitude and bark, promptly curled up against his side, just like Livia was, "I'm alright, Max, relax."

"You're insane," Max breathed out, circling the bed to grab the Tylenol and a bottle of Gatorade. He figured it was fine if Vince shared with Sophia, since they were both sick, "drink."

"No, man, I don't-"

"Drink," Max's patience was gone, "drink or I'm calling an ambulance, do not try me."

Vince let out a groan, but gave in as soon as Livia lifted up her head from his chest and said, "no hospital, Vinny."

"Fine," he said sourly, taking the pills with a small sip and planting the bottle on his bedside table, "happy?"

"Ecstatic," Max replied just as sharply, then sat on the foot of the bed, fishing out Vince's phone from his own pocket, "you should call your girlfriend, she called like 3 times already. And your mom-"

"Did any of you tell mamma about this?" Vince looked between the girls and they all shook their heads, "good. We're not gonna."

"Very smart," Max said dryly and Vince opened a sheepish smile.

"It's their anniversary, man, I don't want to ruin it. Besides, everything is fine here, right?"

"Now that Daniels is here," Sophia scoffed, but didn't move her head from where she had her cheek pressed to Vince's bicep, yawning. Vince let out an amused huff, noticing Max's face turning all red.

"You hear that? She likes you better than me," he said, then his call connected and he said, "Hey, honey-" and Max could clearly hear Wendy going frantic over the line.

He lied down on the foot of the bed himself, looking up at the ceiling and rubbing his face, trying to fight the horrible warm feeling that was washing over him. It shouldn't feel this nice to be surrounded by three sick people.

[feyascorner]

You writing is amazing! I eat it right up!

Now this idea has been stuck in my hand for a while. Tav that wants to give Astarion blood but are horrified of needles and that fear applies to his fangs. So when they try to give blood the instinctively move away even when Astarion "The bit comes in 3 2 1" but Tav insist on trying again. When Astarion finally gets some blood Tav straight just goes "Oh okay great" and faceplants in the ground. When they wake up again they say the weirdest shit because they are still whoozy something like "Hey Astarion do crabs think fish can fly?"

Anyway have a nice day :]

im crying they're so silly...also i wrote like the dumbest questions but they're genuine questions so pls if anyone has answers...

"Just do it."

He nods. "Very well."

"Wait, no, I need a countdown."

"Fine. Three...two..."

"Actually, it's too nerve-racking, just--"

Astarion pulls his face away from the crook of your neck, eyes lidded as he sighs. "Darling, if it's too difficult..."

"It's not that bad. I want to help you, and you said this would make you more powerful in battle," you insist, bursting with enthusiasm but not enough to will you through your deathly fear of needles---or anything sharp for that matter. "I've done it before, I can do it again."

"Yes, love, but the last time we did this, you had me do it while you were asleep. You also woke up and punched me in the chest, even though you're the one who suggested the idea."

"I can do it this time! Just try again!"

Despite his hesitance, he follows your request, gently inching you closer and leaning into your neck. His breath feels cool on your skin, but the second you feel him nearing too close, you pull away again instinctively. He doesn't even seem surprised this time.

"Okay, maybe we should just do it while I'm sleeping again-"

He grabs either side of your face, pressing a kiss on your cheek and then another on the side of your nose. He trails down to your chin, and before you can even tell what he's doing, your face is flushed in embarrassment. So much so that you don't even realize he's trailed down your chin and his fangs are now right at your neck. "What are you--"

It pricks.

Astarion tries to make it brief, regardless of how badly he wants to drink more, because he can sense how limp you feel in his arms. He pulls away, licking at the excess on his lips with a triumphant grin. "There. Exquisite as always."

But you only stare at him blankly. His smile drops. It worries him.

"Oh, okay," you blink. "That's great."

You would've face planted straight into the floor had he not barely grabbed you by the back of your shirt.

You only awake a few hours later, groggily rubbing at your eyes while Astarion looms over you with pursed lips, and you wonder how long he's been sitting here. When your eyes peel open, he groans, shoulders slumping in relief.

"There you are, I thought I'd nearly killed you again!" he smiles, reaching for a plate of fruits beside your bedroll. "Now feed yourself before you go and pass out on me aga--"

"Your hair reminds me of a white rat I saw last week."

He stops.

"Why do you think Karlach's underwear doesn't burn off? Are they enchanted? I want enchanted underwear."

Ah, he realizes. You've finally lost your mind.

Your lips stretch dreamily. "Maybe I can ask Withers to make my underwear glow in the dark."

"No, before we move on, let's discuss that rat comment."

"Do crabs think fish can fly?"

"I---I suppose they would?..." He's at a loss of words, which is especially rare for him.

You blink wearily at him, staring at a spot on the wall behind his head. He'd think your confusion to be adorable if it weren't for the borderline offensive comments you were spouting out like a broken water fountain. "Do vampires poop, Astarion?"

You've crossed the borderline now. He runs a hand down his face, sighing. "Please stop talking, my love."

"You can technically eat food, even though it tastes bad, right?" you raise a brow, squinting at him. "So where does that food go? Do you poop it out or does it just kind of slide ou--"

"Okay, that's quite enough talking for today," he shoves an apple into your mouth. He snickers at how you struggle to take a bite. "No more questions until you finish the entire bowl."

Fortunately for him, you fall back asleep before you're even finished with the apple. And he's grateful you do because even he himself doesn't know the answer to that question.