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sunofpandora · 29 days ago

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V I R A G O

CHAPTER 6:

She was a bird, I was an arrow

✮⋆»»———➤⋆.˚꩜ ˙⋆ ☀︎ ✮⋆»»———➤⋆.˚꩜ ˙⋆ ☀︎

Neteyam x fem na’vi!omaticaya!reader

Characters:

Ka’lik- (like you would pronounce “Malik”) Y/n’s father/deceased

Zensira-deceased, Y/n’s mother, spider's adoptive mother

Kailo-(Y/n’s ikran. Your ikran is a male)

WARNINGS: panic attack, blood, heights, sexual assault???(Kyuna being touchy) attempts of undressing someone? (Again, Kyuna.)

☾✮⋆»»———➤⋆.˚꩜ ˙⋆ ☀︎ ☾✮⋆»»———➤

Neteyam POV:

When I was 15 I fell in love.

I fell in love with a girl made of moonlight and stars stitched together by sirenic hymns of pulsed passion.

She left loose curls in her braids and had bruised knees from climbing. She has auriferous, harvest moon eyes that glow viridescent when the night untangles itself from its resting place, aligned imperfectly with her stellified sunset-tinted soul.

I started by bringing her little things.

Flowers. Crystals. Herbs for various uses to share with her family. She danced at clan ceremonies, immune to the curse of incoordination. Her dark hair swung behind her, braids woven out of pieces of the night. She was a wild child. Running through rivers and daring to drive herself through the dullness of the dirt.

I knew that she never met her grandmother, but she wore the river pearl necklace that once belonged to her.

I knew that she loved swimming, and never really talked about how good she was at it.

I knew that she kept the dried petals from the little dolls her mother would make her out of flowers as a child and hung them above her hammock in her family's tent.

I knew that she made her first kill with a bow and arrow when she was 4. And that the tip of that very arrowhead was tied on her song chord to mark the occasion.

I knew that she was worried. Worried about me, about the human boy she called her brother, about her home, and her people, her parents who were still healing from the first war.

But I loved what I didn’t understand. That was my first mistake.

Because my whole life has been about being the older brother. When she gave me the gift of feeling like a child again, I suppose I thought I could leave her like one.

And I know that sounds stupid. I know I sound stupid.

It wasn’t immaturity I craved. It was that lightness. The kind that the sun could never provide.

That stupid, stupid boy. If I could grab him and shake him by his shoulders until his brain repositioned itself into the right place, I would.

There was an addicting absurdity to it all.

Running through the forest with her after dark, whispering her name in the night while my hands traced her spine, leaving lazy, open kisses on her ribcage and spinning her around with her legs caught around my waist. Dragging my fingers along her pulse point. Feeling her breath flicker in the firelight of the stars. I never dared to do anything beyond kissing her and holding her. So perhaps that boy isn’t as stupid as I thought.

I slept with her. Not like that, though. Actually sleeping. The kind where your clothes remained on. The first time it happened was when I stumbled to find her by the creek, where she was weaving a basket for her mother. I was so exhausted from training i collapsed my head into her lap while she stroked my back.

Sometimes I kissed her neck, the expanse of her throat where I swore I saw heaven hollowed within. I ran my hands over the sweet homage of her thighs.

There was a freedom with her I felt with no one else. Then the world felt too big, my heart created corners that only fit her shape. When the air became knotted and my breath spilled from my lungs in sporadic bouts of blemished air, she blessed me with a barrier of bliss. I thought I was so deserving of that decompression. I was an idiot to think it wasn’t a privilege.

Some nights we’d sit on the thickened tree branches of the pandora oak outside the old village.

She’d lean her head on my shoulder and i’d tell her the English names of the constellations my father taught me.

“What’s that one?”

She whispered, pointing with the tip of her finger and tracing the shape of the asterism, eywa knows I couldn’t look away from the stars in her eyes, an opalescence embedded like a sea mirroring the night’s contents, and suddenly I saw two skies.

“Its called the archer.” I hummed, gently guiding her wrist to place her hand atop the shaft of the bow caught in the cosmos.

“See? There’s her bow, and her arrow, and her body.”

She tilted her head, attempting to see the shape. Her eyes light up when she finds it.

I smile, a warmth spreads within my chest as my enamourment echoes through the dusk.

“My father says some people on earth started calling it a ‘virago’.”

She nods in acknowledgment, glancing between me and the stars.

Those were the nights I hope she can remember. Those are the nights I pray i never forget.

But sometimes the shadows loom instead of live. The world around me started breaking down into fragments that figmented themselves drunk on delirium. Because having my mother’s eyes doesn’t mean i’m free of my father’s gaze.

I was afraid of control. My second mistake was becoming accustomed to it.

But my chance with that fiery girl is gone. I’ll bury it. So I don’t have to look at it. So no one has to look at it. Because she deserves so much better than to chase fireflies for the rest of her life.

I don’t think I’ll ever forget the night the sky turned red.

My father and mother had left for date night. I was home with Lo’ak, Kiri, and Y/n who as babysitting Tuk while her parents went to gather herbs.

We didn’t speak to one another. It was too awkward. I clung to silence like it was a sustenance for my survival.

Our parents had been gone for a few hours when we saw it.

A new star surfaced in the sky, tearing through the dark viciously. Sparing nothing in its path of annihilation.

An unfamiliar sort of fear fell upon Norm and Max’s face as they exited their shack at the sound of commotion. Their smiles faded so fast they might as well have never been there in the first place.

Kiri shrunk away slowly to an unknown place of hiding. As if trying to shield herself from the threatening presence of this bolide.

lo’ak dropped the bracelet he was making, the beads landing on the ground with scattered sounds of clanking and chaos.

Tuk ran to y/n, a panicked descry leaving her as she took refuge in her arms. Y/n held Tuk protectively. Her expression was notated by one of horror.

Me? I froze. The world stopped spinning. The moon refused to shine. The earth had withered away under my feet.

I was dazed as I followed my siblings into our families tent, I remember Norm’s words as he ushered us inside, trying to mask his panic.

“Kids, get inside- c’mon quickly.

Tuk, let’s play a game. Okay? Tuck your knees to your chest and don’t move until I come back.”

The world was falling apart.

And I couldn’t even see my last glimpse of it beyond the cloth quarters of the home I grew up in. That’s how you trap yourself. You convince yourself your cage is just an illusion.

When my parents returned home later, Y/n sprinted to them, asking frantically if they had seen her parents return.

“They haven’t yet returned?”

When my mother spoke those words, the air tensed.

I watched helplessly as she ran to her ikran, mounting it with no time to waste.

I reached for her arm, stammering out pleas for her to stay. Stay close to the stars that sent the shadows of the endless dusk desolating any shred of hope. Without them i’d surely loose her in the darkness. Stay in the light, please. Stay where I can see you. Where I know you are safe. Where I know they can’t take another. Stay where every moment was inscribed to instinct. Where every moment of my life is a piece of a plan. A plot. Every word is scripted. And even if you were never a part of it I can still keep your eyes in my life.

Stay with me. Please. I don’t know what’s out there and I don’t know what I’d do if I lost you.

She hissed at me with tears in her eyes, shaky hands pushing me away as she mounted Kailo with irascible mannerisms.

Behind it all was a little girl who just wanted to find her mom and dad.

I envy her. I envy her ability to not cower from the darkness.

To stand where others couldn't see.

My father chased after Y/n. Determined to bring her and her parents back in one piece. Promising my mother she wouldn’t loose anyone else she was close too.

But sometimes we can’t keep our promises.

I waited with my mother and my siblings.

I watched my mother pray. Clutching my grandmother’s hand close to her chest. Murmuring invocations to the wind. My mother couldn’t stall away the anxious inquisitiveness of Tuk, complying with her to shut herself away from the sharp helix-scarred sky, victim to fire and ruin.

“Wait inside, Tuk.”

That’s all anyone would tell her.

Lo’ak sat coiled in the corner. Staring infront of him as if the air was dissolving into fragments filmed in glass, shattering into pieces.

He was silent. Still. But he was like my father in that way. A master of disassociation. When you stayed so rooted in solitude the world around you ceased its spinning.

Kiri prayed in my grandmother’s tent. Isolating herself.

What more can you do when what you thought were stories of the past resurrect from devastation?

History was cruel. Our biggest mistake was thinking the future would forget.

Would it forgive? Would it tread this demolition generously? Would it spare my mother from losing a sister for teh second time? Would it let my father laugh just a bit longer? Let him remain unpunished. Maybe in a world where the heart on his sleeve isn’t in the shape of a shackle. Where the shadows of his past sins remain silent. When ‘sir’ wasn’t a synonym for ‘dad’.

Please. Let my littlest sister play in the forest after dark again. Chasing winged insects and dancing to heartbeats. Let her feel the solace of safety and the freedom of frolicking in the flower fields without fear of the sky demons. Don’t make her grow up knowing war. Give her a world where I don't have to explain that Dad still loves Lo’ak and me even after yelling at us.

Don’t take my little brother's light away. Don’t shy him away from me. let me see the spark flicker in his eyes when he would look up at me. Bring back the days of chasing him around and having our heights measured next to each other. Childhood memories of keeping him occupied with stories while he squirmed on my mother's lap, getting his hair rebraided. Back when I was his sibling. Not his shadow. Now I can’t find it when my existence is the pinnacle of excellence that’s dangled over his head. To fall as the burning star while he damns me in the daylight of the sun. Days when my father's words to Lo’ak were filled with tender devotion, and not deadlines and demands and disappointment. Look at him. Please. Don’t turn your attention into a privilege.

And Kiri. Oh kiri. Please. Don’t twist her story. Don’t write my sister’s mother into the enemy. Don’t make the sleeping body she yearns to touch beyond her hand pressed to cold glass awake in darkness only to say goodbye. The only place solace is found for Kiri, the only place she can hear her voice within the deep forest. Don’t resurrect Grace’s memory and taint it.

Please don’t hurt the girl I’m in love with. Please don’t banish the stars in her sky to the depths of the hollowed and hardened corridors of her heart. What must I do to protect her? Tell me, and tell me now. I’m running out of time. Do i look her in her eyes and tell her that every breath i take is for her? Every half-note of my heartbeat is a syllable in her name. I know I failed her. I know. And im sorry. I’m so, so sorry.

I paced around the tent, watching Tuk play with her toys in the corner, waiting for any sign of return.

When the shadow and the screech of my father’s ikran, the rising sun rushing currents of a blinding white light leaking through the overlay of the trees, crashed into the sounds shaping themselves into shards, slicing through the air.

My father had his arm thrown over y/n’s shoulder, locking her in place against his chest, she crouched on the front of his ikran, shaking and thrashing.

His other hand gripped his ikran saddle like a vice, struggling to keep both him and Y/n upright in flight.

The moment the touch down to the village y/n all but collapses to the ground, slipping out of my fathers grasp.

He curses, jumping off and scrambling to hold her. A low wail leaves y/n as she claws and scratches at her own skin, clutching what looks like the remnants of a songchord in her hand.

No sign of her parents. That only meant the worst.

It hits me like a blow to my chest, creeping up my spine like vines of plants from hell and tying me down to the earth, roots caging me in, the world around me clawing to come inside.

Everything around me blurs. The ground under me shifts with the wind. The patterns reverse and the sound waves reshape themselves behind shadows.

Light is refracted, captured in a dome of reflections. My mother is the first to sprint towards the pair. Her steps slowly traipsed down as she registered the absence of Zensira and Kai’lik.

The sight of Y/n clutching a bloodied song chord shattered any ounce of hope she had.

My mother sobbed into her palm, rushing towards Y/n to grasp at her shoulders, desperately trying to keep her close, as if the sky demons would rip her straight out of her arms.

My grandmother jogs over, trying to cage her daughter in her arms and gradually pull her away, giving Y/n the much-needed space.

My father has tears in his eyes.

He doesn’t dare let them fall. Not in front of his clan. His children.

My father is a master of disassociation. Confrontation was never a confidant of my fathers. Lock him in a room with him and his own grief and watch him fall apart.

He's angry. Angry at the world. Angry at himself. Angry at this piece of his past he prayed he’d never see again.

Lo’ak drops frantically, taking a place behind y/n and my father, trying to speak to her in hushed tones that are washed out by her cries. Lo’ak isn’t good with these kinds of things. But he cares for her. He struggles with the placement of his hands momentarily, settling to rub her back soothingly.

Tuk pushes past the crowd forming in the distance, and scampering behind me, gently placing her palm on my leg and tugging on my fingertips.

“What's wrong? Whys’ everyone crying?”

I don’t answer. I can’t answer. I can’t even look at her. I’m still. I’m frozen. I’m useless.

She winces at the sound of more wailing, pushing herself to stand in front of my father.

I know I should speak. Tell Tuk to go back inside. Away from the screaming and the crying. That’s what older siblings do. I feel her small fingers slip away from mine and suddenly my skin feels as if it's unraveling.

I don’t think yesterday existed.

Because just yesterday I saw Y/n and her parents, with Spider and with the clan. Just yesterday the sky was blue. Today it dawns a sickening shade of orange. The sky dissevered and swallowed it whole before it could even breathe.

How can it change so fast? Did it slip away from me? Maybe I didn’t hold on to it tight enough. Please, my love. I’m sorry. Can’t you see I’m sorry? Please hold onto me again and I swear I'll never let you go again.

I look at Y/n again, still trying to pry herself out of my father’s grasp. One hand clutches her forearm and digs and scratches her fingers into the flesh so manically it draws blood. Her other hand clawing at the dirt. She starts to hyperventilate as my father panics.

“Breathe Y/n. You have to breathe. Please.” My father’s voice is hoarse and desperate. The world is spinning to fast for him meanwhile mine ceases to spin at all.

Or maybe that’s incorrect. My world was right infront of me. Crying and breathing as if her lungs denied her existence.

Tuk’s whimpering catches his attention, his ears pin down as he grapples with the idea of his youngest baring witness to such tragedy.

Then those frantic golden eyes that mirror my own focus on me.

“Neteyam! Take your sister inside. Now! go! “

I can’t. I’m stuck. Why am i stuck? Iv’e always been the first to act. The first to speak, to advocate, to defend.

What will happen to my clan? To my family? Can we win again? Will we win again? Are we as strong as we were during the first war?

“Neteyam! Get Tuk and move!”

My fathers voice is drowned by the swirling thoughts in my head.

My father places Y’n beside Lo’ak, who immediately wraps an arm around her to keep her upright.

“Dad!”

Loa’k calls after him as he files towards me. His voice cracks.

He scoops tuk up with one arm, using his other to grab my arm, dragging us both into the tent, pushing us inside with all the gentleness he could manage.

“Stay with your sisters and your mother. Please.”

He breathes before leaving, returning to Y/n.

My mother is sobbing in the corner, Kiri at her side with tears streaming down her cheeks.

Grandmother tries to calm them both.

“Eywa why? Why has the past come back to us?”

She curls herself into a fetal position as she cries out as if she's in physical pain.

Tuk starts to cry.

The earth is weeping and my family is shattered. The love of my life is left in a starless night sky.

Can the sun shine in the dusk?

✮⋆»»———➤⋆.˚꩜ ˙⋆ ☀︎ ☾✮⋆»»———➤⋆.˚꩜ ˙⋆ ☀︎ ☾✮⋆»»———➤

“If you can’t smell the fletching you aren’t doing it right.”

Y/n smacks my chest for the 8th time that hour. My lessons with her had finally begun, per my father’s orders.

And after thinking about it, i’m grateful my father chose me for this position. so what if I enjoy spending time with her? And I can’t say I despise hearing her make demands and orders and instructions.

Is that weird? Am I weird for that?

She sighed in frustration, staring at me like the hopeless case i was.

“Really? you have these freakishly big arms and no posture.”

I frown, patting my bicep pitifully.

“They’re called muscles.”

“Then use them. Straighten up.”

She elbows me in the ribs.

I take a breath, tracing her slightly faded form with my peripheral vision as I prepare to be denied of her essence in my line of sight, even for just a moment as she steps behind me.

I correct my stance, shooting the arrow as it flies through the woven targets shes created and tied to the tree.

She examines my shot, running her fingers over the painted circle and where my arrow has skewered itself embed. It was perfect. Right at the center.

“Better.”

She affirms, yanking it out of the target and tossing it to my feet.

“We have to practice angles. Its clear you can shoot a bow, quite well at that. But it’s different when you’re transitioning into targets that are at sky-level with you.”

Today, she trains me to become an archer like her and my mother, to learn the skills to eventually shoot down sky demon ships.

I reach behind me to let my bow hang on my back, the string brushing my torso.

“Will the transition take long?”

She shurgs.

“It depends. It’s different from using a bow on foot or on a direhorse, even on ikran from low distances. It’s not like sturmbeast hunting. The rush, the wind, the air, it all screams at you while you shoot from the sky. The last thing you want is to be fumbling around for an arrow while a gunned ship chases you.”

She speaks absentmindedly as she gathers the targets from the tree, untying the ropeshes used to secure them.

I smile to myself, watching the way her hands work around the intricate knots she’s created.

“I’m a fast learner. I’m sure I’ll catch on.”

She scoffs, looking over her shoulder.

“Don’t shower me with proclamations, I’m confident in your archery skills. It's the change of pace that’ll become an impediment.”

I think sometimes Y/n assumes I harbor this overabundance of cockiness. I don’t. I never have. But i guess that’s what happens when you’re is away from someone for a long time. You forget.

Her gaze explores the thickened grass woven into a makeshift target as she starts to pile them into the big pouch she brought them in. The air around us spreads and forms an exterior of foreign feelings. I don’t reject the atmosphere it provides.

Treading lightly, I slowly take a step towards her.

“You are a good teacher.”

I say matter-of-factly. I’m stalling. I don’t want my time with her to end.

She scoffs, refusing to spare me a glance.

“I’m a terrible teacher, I’m a good shot and I order other warriors around when your father wants me to. People see that and assume my teaching skills are just as good.”

I shrug, leaning against a tree, reaching out to take the sack off her hands for a moment. She gave me it reluctantly. She takes a seat on the tree stump, tossing her head back before looking back at me, waving her hand in a downward motion.

“Sit for a moment. It’s important to rest your muscles after training. There’s nothing worse than straining your shooting arm.”

I huff out a quiet laugh. I sink against the tree across from her. “Well if you insist.”

She shakes her head.

“I don’t. But the cramps you’ll avoid in your biceps arms definitely do.”

I watch as her fingers trace the curvature of the arrowhead, the sun sliced over the ridges in the small objects surface, rounding over the curves and patterns in the stone.

“How would you feel about heading back without me?”

She asks; not even glancing at me as she opens her water flask, taking a few sips out of it and cursing quietky when she tilts the pouch too far back and some water spills down her chin to her neck, the unwelcomed sudden sensation making her shudder.

She hands me the flask, offering some water but all i can do is gawk at her words.

“To high camp? No. We should stay together.”

I shake my head, gently declining her offer of water and muttering a thank you.

It’s her turn to gawk now. Staring at me as if i have three tails.

“I have my bow.”

She gestures to the weapon next to her, the curved wood carved with patterns and bright beads and feathers adorining it.

“I’ll be fine on my own.”

I know she hates beinhg chaperoned or supervised. So i allow the sounds of the forest to symphonize while i devise something to respond with. The sewn sky is torn at the seams as clouds creep by. Something with feathers moves in the distant canopy.

“Why? Don’t you want to return with me?”

It’s not you. I just don’t want to go home yet.”

“Than who is it?”

She’s quiet for a moment, fidgeting with her songchord to busy her hands.

“Spider.”

That was honestly the last thing I expceted to hear.

By the time Spider could walk-

Well, really, i doubt the guy ever went through a ‘first steps’ phase. He probably just started running.

By the time he could preform some kind of motion with his legs that incorporated standing up and getting him from one place to another, Y/n’s parents had pretty much accepted him as their child.

That was his ticket to having the full na’vi child experience. He had a songchord, a bow, was taught the history of the clan through stories and songs. He loved them, and mourned them when their time came. Y/n and him have always been close, and since the past tragedy, it’s not hard to say that they’ve fought to keep eachother in their lives. Especially when my parents ushered y/n to live with our family, and leaving spider with norm and max. Because whether others believe spider belongs with our people or not, she’s never known a world where he’s not there. It’s a scale that shouldn’t be tipped. One will surely loose balance without the other.

I blink, sitting up as my head cocks to the side.

“Spider? Why? What did he do?”

IS it wrong for me to assume spider is the one at fault for whatever quarrel is proceeding?

No. At least i don’t think so. I actually think it’s pretty fair.

She groans, running her palms down her face, the skin under her eyes being dragged downwards under her fingertips.

“He’s just so- and then he- and he just- and he-”

She shakes her fists furiously as if shes strangling something invisible.

I wince.

“I don’t think that will improve his current situation with the air on this planet.”

“I’m ready to take the mask and shove it where it won’t see air again.”

“Woah there.”

She sighs roughly, absently throwing a small rock into a bush.

“Why doesn’t he ever think before doing stupid shit?”

“Well the shit wouldn’t be stupid if it was properly considred.”

She mumbles to herself, waving me off.

I place my hand on the stump next to me to shift myself to lean back against the tree further.

“Y/n, I know things can be rough with siblings. Trust me, i know. But-”

“Can i tell you something that will sound horrible?”

My sentence is stifled as she hinders it with her quiet, rueful words.

I fumble for my next words.

“Uh yeah. Yes. yes of course.”

I wave my palm towards her in a stupidly clumsy ‘the floor is yours’ motion.

When someone wants to vent, count on me to turn the atmosphere into one of an addiction confrontation.

But my eywa, she wants to talk to me about her problems. ME! Not lo’ak, but me! Does that mean she trusts me?

She looks down, the light spills down through the overbush of the trees, casting a hazy halo upon her figure, golden-crested shadows flirt with her azure skin. The sunlight feels shallow today. Melancholic and hollow. The sun is silenced as it slips behind a cloud. Buried beneath a grey eclipse.

“He’s not one of us. He’s my family but he’s not the same as me, not even the same species. but he wasn’t-”

She hesitates.

“His people were never suppose to come here. To this planet. He can’t run as fast as us, fall from heights where we can and just come out unscathed, he’s not as big, as strong, as durable and adaptable as us! He’s not a na’vi! And as much as i wish I could make that his reality, I can use all the blue paint in the world and It won’t make him as tall as me. I can’t-.”

Her voice cracks at the endnotes, it’s only noticeable if you listened closely. it makes my ears pin back, itching to aid this burden.

“I can’t keep drawing circles around him and begging him to stay inside of them.”

Sometimes soulmates aren’t lovers. They’re siblings. Tied at the roots. Whether they were related by blood or not, they carried a piece of eachother. Even when the world tears them apart, that piece binds that root back to common ground. Energy is only borrowed. And one day, you’re gonna have to give it back.

If i were to loose Tuk, Lo’ak, or Kiri, the energy we’ve shared would circle back to where it started. And that root would retreat back to it’s spiral shape. That’s what life entails at the center of your circle. You would die for your siblings at the end of the day, and if they take the shapes of stars you search for them in the lengths of the sky.

Her tail coils around her ankle, poking at the bracelet that circled around the skin.

“Y/n, we can’t protect them forever.”

She curls herself into a ball, letting her weight drag her to the ground so that she lays bundled, her arms locked around her knees. Groaning and hissing loudly.

“I don’t want to protect him forever i just want him to stop trying to kill himself.”

“I don’t think that’s his intention, Y/n..”

I poke at her back, attempting to push her upwards with my palm so that she doesn’t faceplant in the dirt.

She mumbles, And if I was anything but a foot farther away I probably couldn’t hear her.

“When we were children he was so small… small-brained…And now he's still small, but bigger..but still fucking smaller than me..but he’s older…”

“..and?”

“His brain hasn’t gotten any fucking bigger. I’m going to take up alcoholism.”

“Please don’t.” I sigh,

“You can’t stop me. I’m going to drink until I forget.”

Oh how beautifully eloquent she is when shes loosing all sense of sanity...

“Y/n, he lives in the same camp as us. You’re going to wake up and remember.”

I rock my knuckles against her spine, still trying to have her body avoid the fresh dirt.

She stares into the cup of her palm. My eyes catches glimpses of the shadows kept sacred in the corridors of the covers that cover her body, the dip of her hips, the drag of her nape, the cinch of her waist, the plush of her thighs and stomach. She’s soft right now. Her muscles aren’t tensed and her stomach isn’t lined.

I’m quiet as i stare at my shins, my fingertips brushing against her other hand.

“Do you remember the other night, when we all talked about scars?”

Her tail flicks, signaling that even if she wasn’t looking at me, i knew she was listening.

“Scars are symbols. They stay with us wherever we go, reminding us of where we’v e been, how we’ve gotten there..how we survived.”

I stare up at the trees, my eyes catching the shapes casting shadows over the leaves.

“Well, I’ve been thinking that some scars don’t appear over time, sometimes we’re born with them.

Her muscles tense and she pensively clutches at her song chord. I almost take it as a sign for me to just shut up. But i can’t. The words just seem to find me.

“You..”

I stare at her. My gaze tracing lines over the patterns imprinted into her back. Somedays i think pieces of her essence are torn from the scars, blemishes, bruises, and slight discolorations that stretch across her skin. Bruises that overlap ultraviolet hues darkened into navy nights, blemishes that I swear are just painstrokes from outer space, shapes imitate cosmic rays and lunar surfaces, opulent nebulae and collisions of stars that would surely cower before her.

She is made out of pieces of the universe.

Salvageable stretches of sunlight. Crystal blue, sun-kissed acquiescence of July. Cherished adventures stained in ink delight

Refusing to wither away even when seasons change and when snow i’ve never seen turns to falling stars.

Violent sunsets, whispers, and the oceans start to sink. I consider myself equally submerged.

“You are just..so strong. You’ve always been responsible for him. You both have grown up under the same roof, you can find that common ground. You both share that circle. Those scars from your experiences..you both can’t escape that.”

Silence settles between us, my arm drapes over my propped up leg.

“It’s not wrong of you to say he doesn’t belong here. Because there’s truth to that. Our home was never meant for his kind, and maybe it never will be.

But if i know one thing, I know that he belongs with you. You’ve stood on that common ground with him through what might as well have been an earthquake, but you’re still here. He owes you that.”

She shakes her head, sitting up quickly, her words catch in her throat.

“But that’s exactly where i seem trapped. He doesn’t owe me. It’s my job, it’s my own commitment! When my parents were still around i swore to stay by his side.”

“You were no older than 6 when you probably grasped the idea that he was there in your home to take the place of a sibling. Y/n, you didn’t swear anything. I wish you wouldn’t bind yourself to this idea-”

“I’m not binded to anything. I am proud to protect my people.”

“Someone once asked me if i’m so busy protecting everyone else, who protects me.”

She stills. Surprised that i’m quoting her.

When the world becomes a sword, she became a shield.

She purses her lips, tugging on a braid that rests over her shoulder.

“That’s different.”

I laugh. Not because its funny. Because its ironic.

“How? You, me, and two dumb, reckless siblings to look after. Lo’ak and spider aren’t that different. Suppose that means neither are we.”

She leans back, her head roughly resting on the bark.

I take a breath, leaning back with her.

“Letting go of that bind doesn’t mean giving up.” I whispered. Staring up at the sky, watching as it creeped and treaded towards a crepuscular cape.

“I know”

She whispered, leaning her head opposite of my direction to rests on her shoulder.

“But he’s all i have left.”

She rasps, looking downwards once again.

My fingers brush hers. I try to focus my eyes on anything but her. The burnished bronze bark shades of the forest around me grapples with my gaze.

I know she hates pity.

A fleeting fracture, half exposed, and bare. Bones shaking under scared skin stretched over a blanket of shame. I think weakness is her greatest enemy. Vulnerability is nothing but a pallid guise of weakness’ tide. In obdurate grace, She stands elate. I’m nothing more than a shadow in the corner of her storms.

She’s an ocean I fear is too vast to cross. I've let myself drown before.

“Y/n. I’m so sorry.”

I whisper. But as apologetic as I am, I can’t decide what I’m apologizing for.

Her parents being dead?

Her crippling fear of losing what fragile pieces of her family she had left?

The specters of her lost, an elegy of ceaseless pain. It forces me to remember I'm presumably forgotten, along with the stars and the sky I once promised i’d give her.

As the sky grew a bit darker. We sat in a silence that danced with serenity.

the clouds like shredded silk, tinged with the delicate hues of a bruise that would never fade.

It was me she trusted in this moment. Not Lo’ak coming in clutch with bad jokes or my father with years of experience I can only pray I’d amount to earn.

Me. Who’s soul took the shape of a shadow that loomed in the darker corners of her heart.

What did I do to deserve this?

As I look at her now-, Y/n.

The y/n.

the woman who had walked through infernos that would have incinerated lesser souls, whose spirit had been forged in the crucible of war, who bore scars both visible and unseen. Her eyes, shadowed by a thousand skies and golden eclipses, had softened now, their fierce gleam dimmed for a brief moment of vulnerability, her very presence carrying the weight of bereavment.

The sky and I share a flicker of breath, as though it too understood the gravity of the moment.

I want to capture her words with my hands, catch them.

These words of hers, the ones I can only beg to hear once again, alike the essence of something rare and blackened, with sorrow yet magnificent in its pain. She spoke of battles fought not just against the sky demons, but against creatures that lurked in the recesses of her mind, devouring fragments of her peace. The blood she had spilled is not foreign but it rots all the same.

At the cost of being blunt, it fucking pisses me off. Beyond that if I can ever find the words.

How could they-

No. How could anyone hurt her?

How could anyone take what they’ve taken from her and continue to reach for what precious circle of family she had left?

How could anyone—any hand—have so defiled such sanctity? faceless figures, cowards. Fighting from far away in the sky ships that stir the wind and attempt poorly to glide upon air that was never even theirs to breathe.

I want to be the shield that keeps her safe, and at from the storms that sweep her away and leave her with scars.

I don’t want to watch her fight for the rest of my life-

Please. I don’t want her to fight for the rest of hers.

Is this where I have to stay? Is this where I have to wait?

I am consumed by an ardor so profound it defies the very essence of language.

No. No, I'm done waiting.

I’ve dispensed myself in my mistakes for 3 years. I may never entirely forgive myself for what I’ve done to her, but I refuse to keep drowning myself in it.

I want to live. Not survive off her faint glances and light touches.

No I want her. I want her back and I want her to be mine.

How could I ever think I could move on? That I could outgrow her? The thought of any other woman in the clan-

No, any other female known to this ground, to want any of them the way I want her, it’s wrong. It’s unnatural. A parallel that threads like a citadel, a monument of sinew and steel, fissures spider webbing beneath My skin, cracks through which light might enter or shatter me under her touch.

And eywa, I’m tired of it. I’m so fucking tired of it. How much longer will I be consumed by this need that cannot be satiated by any other presence other than hers?

I want to hear her laugh again. I want to hold her again. I want to kiss her neck and trace my palms down the curve of her waist and her thighs. I want to hear her call my name breathless into the darkness while I capture her moans with my lips and watch her hair spill through my fingers.

I want to hold her hand. I want to kiss her until I can’t breathe. I want to feel the weight of her on top of me and under me and her legs wrapped around my waist.

If she allowed me I would beg her on my knees. I would kiss her ankles up to her hairline and whisper apologies that sound more like worship.

I want her to pull me away. I want to drown in her.

Can she possibly know? Her absence is not a void but a presence—vast, unbearable, and omnipotent—filling every crevice of thought, every trembling nerve that dares to remember. Her voice lingers in the silence, a phantom melody that unspools endlessly. she might as well be a rope to my wrists, tightening like a noose.

I don’t s resist her. Even torment is preferable to the sterility of forgetting, to the annihilation of what remains of her in me.

How could she possibly not understand? The things I would do for her?

I would crawl through dirt and dust and call it scared ground if she so much as stepped there. What is love if not worship and what is yearning if not devotion?

Because she’s so beautiful. She’s pretty. She’s gorgeous. She’s perfect. She’s every word I can think of and all the words I’ve yet to learn.

So much so it’s almost otherworldly. i stand before like a penitent before an altar that will never grant me absolution. if this longing is a sickness in my soul, i'm going to cherish it because it's hers.

Watch as she unmakes me. Slowly, exquisitely—dismantling my pride, my reason, my very humanity, until nothing remains but the hollow echo of her name. And I would call that emptiness sacred.

If anger is what she needs so be it. betray me, despise me, reduce me to carrion before her feet.

Must I weep for gratitude? for even in degradation? Done.

I will wait.

“I don’t like just waiting here.” The silence that had once reigned was shattered. Unveiling the world anew, pulling the soul from its slumber. I’m shaken awake from my momet of zoning away. It doesn’t take me long too realize it was Y/n’s voice. Well obviously- who else could it have been? the tree?

“Huh? I’m sorry- did you speak?”

She squints at me. Her eyes flicker before she stands to her feet.

“I said I don’t like this waiting. I should have never suggested it. I’m sorry.”

She brushes herself off before grabbing her bow and the woven bag of targets, slinging her bow to tuck under her arm and the sack over her shoulder. I scramble to my feet, grabbing my own bow and water skin.

“It was stupid of me to try to avoid this- i’m just gonna talk to spider when i get back.”

She mumbles.

“Oh- wait. Eywa you’re fast.”

I chuckle awkwardly. All she can do is toss me a blank glance over her shoulder. She moved swiftly, not making much if any sound.

I stop infornt of her, reaching out to offer her my free arms to carry the bag.

“Do you need-”

“No. lets get moving. I want to get you back before dark or else your father will have a heart attack scare.”

She cuts me off, swaying past me and onto the path where ouyr ikrans perched somehwre ahead.

“You know-”

I jog behind her, casually steadying myself to match her pace.

“You know my father doesn’t need to know where i am every second of the day.”

She shrugs.

“And yet, he does.”

Touche.

Brush it off Neteyam. I mean, how bad would it really be if the woman you were in love with saw you as nothing but a marionette tethered pathetically to his father?

Oh. That sounds worse than i thought.

Easy fix? Right? …Right?

“He’s just looking out for you.”

She enlightens, with a quiet precision, each word a steady beat, unadorned by excess or hesitation.

My whole life i've wanted people to see past the shadow of my father. But now i’m begging her to.

Why can’t she see the me that has shaped with my own hands, not inherited or molded by the past.

I riven between the maddening urge to captivate and the harrowing awareness of my own profound inadequacy. She, an indomitable presence, even though i've known her since she was learning to walk, is still so fascinatingly intimidating.

“I don’t-”

I stumble over a branch. Was it a branch? It could have been a root or a rock. Whatever it was. I lurch forward before unevenly shifting, then I awkwardly brushed it off, pretending it hadn’t happened.

She stops and stares at me. Painfully unimpressed with my lack of attention to the ground.

I clear my throat, trying not to wince.

“I don’t need him to look after me.”

She shrugs, walking ahead of me without much thought. “Well of course not. Look at how gracefully you coordinated that fall.”

“I didn’t fall.”

“Are you calling me blind.”

“No part of my body other then my feet touched the ground. That’s not a fall. It’s a…stammer.”

I cross my arms, suddenly my gaze finds interest in the bright colors that crowd a herb patch near by.

“Oh and what a beautiful stammer it was.”

She rolls her eyes, effortlessly shifting everything in her arms to only one side as she raises two fingers to her lips and create a whistle sound.

I see a shape of something winged and large in the distance. A cacophony of colors and jagged lines, and abstract forms are layered atop one another, intermingling and overlapping in a way that feels both disorienting and captivating

The sounds of flapping wings resonate from afar, an unseen presence demands attention by echoing the sound of it’s arrival. Kailo lands first, followed by rey’sa.

Kailo was larger than the average ikran. That’s what Norm told us the night after Y/n’s ikinimya.

I still remember that day. Watching her dodge and duck away from the literal jaws of death on the ikran rookery. I saw her, and in that fleeting moment, my soul seemed to abandon me, leaving flesh frozen as I watched her plummet off the cliff side. My heart might as well have been ripped from my chest. It felt as though stricken with some fatal malady, ceased to beat. A dire, unshakable certainty gripped me—that she was gone. as good as dead. That she had slipped from the grasp of light.

Kailo’s colors seem to pulsate with a tumultuous vibrancy. Bold and garish in their audacity, writhe and clash which burn with an almost sacrilegious intensity, to the shrieking blues and grotesque purple, the hues seem to scream at the beholder, drowning the senses in a discordance of visual tumult.

a gnawing sense of impotence. They spill, uncontained, stretching and sprawling, as though in the midst of some violent outpouring of emotion or thought. Jagged, fractured red lines pierce the air, juxtaposed by sweeping curves, both jagged and fluid in their simultaneous grace and aggression.

The spread of red, blue, and purple creates a furor of colors, intermingling and overlapping in a way that feels both disorienting and captivating.

My eyes, without any conscious volition, as if led by some hidden magnetism, gravitated toward Rey’sa. Her brown, green, and yellow skin clash in a manic strife. The splashes of brown are deep and earthbound. It pushes it’s weight against the lighter, more volatile green, incessant, and vibrant, it twists and coils in unruly shapes, as though struggling to break free from the heavy grasp of the brown. Meanwhile, the yellow flashes like a burst of lightning, crackling with energy.

She shakes her head back in forth in a quick wild nutation before tiltidng her head towards me, a high noted-shrill leaving her as if informing me of her arrival.

I give her neck a few pats, tightening my saddle with one hand while I throw myself to straddle atop, hiking up my leg and shifting in a slight jump.

Y/n doesn’t mount until she secures the targets and her bow in her side saddle, handling it with the utmost care. As if parting with it was akin to severing a vital thread that tied her soul to her body.

There was a quiet dominion everywhere she went. Trailing her steps. In her orbit, the air became sanctified. Her back straight as if someone held a board to it to ensure it never faletered from it’s position.

I mount rey’sa after ensuring everything was fastened. I reach back for my kuru. The movements to connect my kuru to my ikran are so unmistakably ingrained. Practiced and performed to a point of cognitive habituation.

The moment I see the cords connect, I feel it.

The traverse vast expanse between us thinning into a network that flows effortlessly, a seamless exchange of synapses that make the sound of sensitive reverberations. It’s an undercurrent of synergistic sensations.

I shake my head to clear up the swift headrush that swept through when making the bond, my vision clearing almost instantly.

I turn to my side, seeing y/n already staring at the sky with a quiet resolve.

“I’m going to talk to him when we get back.”

She looks at her hands, they almost bruise with how tightly she grips the reigns. Her gaze is suffused in a promise that I feel proud to say she only shares with me.

“Good.you two should work things out.”

She nods, shifting, adjusting her legs.

“Thank you.”

“For what?”

She shrugs.

“Talking sense into me.”

I laugh. But I don’t mean to. It’s accidental. It echoes between us

“Nothing makes sense when you have stupid reckless people like Lo’ak or spider in your life.”

If only she knew things only ever made sense when I was with her.

₊⋆⁺☀︎₊☾⁺☀︎₊𖦹✮⋆⁺₊⋆☾⁺☀︎₊₊⋆⁺☀︎₊☾⁺☀︎₊𖦹✮⋆⁺₊₊⋆⁺☀︎₊☾⁺☀︎₊𖦹✮⋆⁺₊⋆☾⁺☀︎₊₊⋆⁺☀︎₊☾⁺☀︎₊𖦹✮⋆⁺₊

NETEYAM POV; back at high camp..

When we arrived back at high camp, I watched y/n run off to wherever spider was, leaving me alone to return the targets to the supply tent.

I should have told her right there and then. Why didn’t I?

I linger in my self-pity for only a moment, then steady myself, refocusing on the task at hand. I start putting the targets back and their respective places. Behind me, the faint sound of a new presence disrupts the silence.

The steps are quiet, as if treading.

“Finally, Lo’ak. Come help me put these away.”

I wave him over without turning my head

“Guess again..”

I jump. In all the year’s iv’e lived with Lo’ak, Iv’e never known him to have a voice so feminine sounding.

I turn, and I feel my breath leave my body in a flicker.

Kyuna stands in front of the tent flap, with one methodical move she uses her finger to tie the drawstring of the flap closed, the sudden lack of light making this whole endeavor even more horrifying.

her presence lingers, a silken thread weaving through the space between us.

“My eywa, you’re so jumpy, Teyam.”

Here’s a fun fact. No one in the entire clan I’ve been born and raised in, calls me ‘teyam’ other than my siblings and occasionally my mother. The sobriquet came about when Lo’ak was about 3, and had trouble pronouncing “Neteyam”. Net or Teyam was his go-to. Honestly I never understood how hard it was to just push the two together but anyways,

When Kyuna uses its imbued with a sense of familiarity and ease, felt unmerited. A familiarity that hasn’t been earned. Much less deserved.

Is it fair? To say something as simple as a shortened version of my own name to be so intimate?

My subconscious drive takes the shape of a marionette. Instinctively moving me backwards the split second she steps forward, her chest invading what I’m positive marks the starting point of “personal space.”

It’s almost like my body repulses the idea of touching her in any way that could even immediately be seen as intimate.

“I finally caught you alone. You’re always so busy..”

She makes her fingers mimic a walking motion as they trail up my chest, neck, before tapping my nose.

I clear my throat, grabbing her wrist and gently placing it back at her side.

“Kyuna this doesn’t seem very-“

“Oh shut up! You’re always so worried about everything. Can you ever let loose?”

She laughs, almost manically, trying despairingly to make her constant interruption seem cute or innocent.

”speaking of loose.”

My eyes flicker down to where she hooks a finger under the waistband of my knife, pulling me closer to her. almost trying to pry her way between where the woven strip of fabric keeps my loincloth resting on my hips.

My eyes widen.

“Nope! Okay! That’s just- nope. No. We are not. I’m going to remain clothed. Thank you..”

I push her away by her shoulders this time.

She Rolls her eyes.

“You’re so stiff sometimes”.

Stiff. Interesting choice of words.

As she bats her eyelashes at me and pouts, I can’t decide whether I feel sad or sorry for her. Or both. Is my attention worth all this? Does she think this is attractive?

Unfortunately, I don't think I have the patience to indulge her.

“Kyuna this is not-“

I sigh, running a hand down my face. Frustrated at what part of that incredibly, small brain in her head thinks that this is okay??

“Kyuna you can’t be doing this. I don’t want to be seen as someone who sneaks around with anyone like this.”

“No one has to know.”

“Right! Because nothing is happening here.”

I speak slowly, as if trying to explain to a small child, holding her hands as I place them down at her sides once again.

“I. Don’t. Want. This.”

I reiterate.

She throws her hands up in frustration, groaning loudly.

“Then what do you want, Neteyam? You never tell or do anything that shows it!”

I raise my eyebrow, quietly standing and watching her tantrum.

A part of me does finally feel coerced into pity. Why did she obsess over this? Over me?

“Women throw themselves at you! They practically drool over you and you don’t even blink! It’s like you don’t care.”

She continues.

“Do you think the whole playing “hard to get” and the “I don’t care” facade will last forever? Because I see right through it.”

She pokes my chest, making me step back once again, my hand behind me resting on the wooden pillar that held the tent up. My fingers anxiously and absently tracing the grooves in the smooth wood.

“There’s something or someone you want. “

“Kyuna, if you are so fixated on there being someone, do you honestly believe, in your heart, that it’s you?”

“Why cant it be?”

“I’m not saying it can’t be, I'm telling you it’s not!”

“Look at you! You won’t even touch me. You’re probably just shy?”

“I’m ‘shy’ because I wont have sex with you inside this tent? Sure. let's put it that way.”

I turn my back to her, starting to pile up the targets and untie the hanging cord around each one. Maybe if I act like she’s not there, she’ll disappear.

There's a pulse of silence before i feel a hand on my shoulder, sending a shrilling shudder down my spine.

“Let’s not dance around this Neteyam.”

She snakes to duck underneath me, placing herself to occupy the very small space between me and the wall, her nose nearly touching mine, I feel her breath for only a shred of a second before I flinch the other way.

“You can’t keep running from this.”

“Yes, I can. The question is, will you stop chasing me.”

"I won't stop chasing what I know belongs to me."

It’s unnerving. How her tone treads that unmistakable subtle possessiveness. That’s how Kyuna works. In her mind, you belong to her whether she realizes it or not. This is how she plays the game. Shifts the board, moves the pieces while you're not looking, and when you turn around, she tries to convince you that it was you who can’t remember what you did with your pieces.

I know where my pieces are. They’re my fucking pieces. Not hers.

“I want you”

She declares.

“No, you want something no one else has.”

I reason.

“No You don’t understand-”

“Something no one else has, but I can’t satisfy that for you-”

Our voices overlap.

“I love you.”

“You love the idea of me.”

Maybe I really do feel sorry for her.

“Can you really think of anyone else in this clan that would be a better wife for you other than me?? They wouldn’t last.”

Nevermind. I’m annoyed again.

“Is it fun? Thinking you’re better than everyone else?”

I query.

“No. Thinking isn’t fun. Knowing is my forte.”

Ah, so she doesn't enjoy thinking. What a shocker.

“Ever since the return of the sky people we’ve been weakened.”

I raise my brow, my face furrowing into something new.

“I don’t follow.”

“Don’t you see it? They only dwell in the past, we’re too afraid to fight the way we used to. We’ve all heard the stories. Our clan used to be ruthless. Feared by others. Now we’re just an afterthought. We’re afraid. But you, once you’re olo’eyktan you could change that, And i could help.”

She speaks, and the sound—that sound—is as if some unfortunate hand struck an untuned instrument, a mere echo of what it could have been. A cruel, discordant note that rends the stillness of the soul.

She is like a child playing a game whose rules she cannot understand, and whose consequences she cannot foresee. But the pain, the pain is real. It is deep, it is sharp, it is unspoken. And yet, she speaks again, and again, with the same ignorance.

Maybe I'm offended because it was all real to me.

Watching my mother wake up crying in the middle of the night plagued with memories of hometree was real.

Watching the love of my life lose her family because of the sky people’s destruction, that was real.

Standing here right now while they dangle our survival over our heads is real.

“I suggest you quit while you’re stepping ahead, Kyuna, You don’t know what you speak of.”

My former tone vanished, replaced by a gravity that demanded attention.

She looks embarrassed. And why wouldn’t she be?

She stammers, fidgeting with one of her braids.

“I was only- you don’t understand.”

“You’re right. I don’t. Do you think I’m impressed by this?

I don’t know what comes over me. Anger? Frustration? Annoyance.

I take a step closer, than another, until she’s pedaling backwards to remain ahead of me.

“Do you think this is attractive? Impressive? Do you think this is the kind of thing I yearn for at night? Stupidity? Ignorance? Do you think I get off on this? On you? Because I can promise you I don't.”

She gulps.

My father once told me that fear controls people.

I vowed to never fall victim to that again. Controlling others. I did it once and I lost the love of my life.

But maybe, control was potential. So was power. And if I have to shape my shadow into something scary and unapologetic to cast away such intrusive presences like hers? I’d justify it.

“Neteyam, I didn’t mean-“

She reaches for my arm, and I’m beyond tired of her touching me.

“Get out, Kyuna. I’m dismissing you.”

“But-“

“Out. Now.”

She stands in silence before turning to leave.

I feel my chest tighten its knot of air I didn’t even know was there until she’s out of my sight.

I don’t like pulling rank on people. But am I so terrible if I say that felt good??

I take a breath, steadying myself. Whatever just happened I could unpack later.

Right now, I allowed myself to be busy with the task at hand.

My sense of peace vanished once again when I saw a figure enter the tent out of the corner of my eye.

Can’t she take a hint?

“For the love of eywa!”

I groan.

“I’m not going to have sex with you! What do you want from me!? Just keep it in your fucking loincloth and-“

I turn around to see my father staring at me in horror.

“Dad?“

₊⋆⁺☀︎₊☾⁺☀︎₊𖦹✮⋆⁺₊⋆☾⁺☀︎₊₊⋆⁺☀︎₊☾⁺☀︎₊𖦹✮⋆⁺₊₊⋆⁺☀︎₊☾⁺☀︎₊𖦹✮⋆⁺₊⋆☾⁺☀︎₊₊⋆⁺☀︎₊☾⁺☀︎₊𖦹✮⋆⁺₊₊⋆⁺☀︎₊☾⁺☀︎₊𖦹✮⋆⁺₊⋆☾⁺

Y/ns Pov:

you shouldn’t be nervous to talk to someone you’ve known my whole entire life and yet a more insidious, gnawing sensation sears at the back of your mind.

Maybe it’s guilt you feel. because the last time you spoke you brought up the past we both wish we could forget.

It was an unspoken rule between us. Not to bring up your mother.

It was never a spoken pact. Youboth knew all too well what happened with grief was left untouched. It hardens into something immutable.

you care about each other too much to put yourselves through that pain again.

You think the sky is sinking. The darker it became the more it seemed to cave downward. Maybe if you climbed a tree you could brush your fingertips against the stars and hear them whisper words of comfort.

You were a warrior. A “lieutenant” as Jake would call you. You had an invitingly strange familiarity to challenges.

Why did the feeling you had right now akin itself to the one you have before a raid?

Every step you take feels closer to the fire.

You grabbed the metal railing and hoisted yourself up to the wooden platform, ignoring the stairs made for human sized feet.

Ducking under the small door you felt the back of your neck brush the cool metal.

No matter how many times you’ve been in the shack, entering it always felt like a fever dream. The white and gray that washed the walls were such a huge contrast to the natural shades that hued pandora’s grounds. It had a way of making you feel empty. Like the crowded space could seep into a pit dwelling portal.

You treaded carefully, minding your anxiously swishing tail and praying that it wouldn’t be the cause of a beaker or something irreplaceable shattering.

Max and norm come into view. They sit at a table hunched over a flat board that sits between them. The board has little white and black boxes and pieces that all differ in size and shape. They scatter across the board, stilling in their place, waiting to be moved.

Norm’s eyes light up as he laughs manically, grabbing a black piece by the curved top and shifting it to one of the white pieces, knocking it over with a swift flick and taking the spot the white piece once inhabited.

“Have fun doing my dishes for a week.”

“You’ve been spending too much time in your avatar, you've finally lost it. You know I'm winning, right?

“Don’t even think for one second you haven’t been shoving pieces in your pocket every time I get up for coffee.”

Max scoffs.

“You’re a caffeine addict.”

“And you’re a cheater!”

“Those are fighting words, I’d watch myself.”

“Then empty your pockets! Come on! If you have nothing to hide.”

“What’s in a man’s lab coat is his own damn business!”

You stand awkwardly, exaggerating a cough to emphasize your presence.

Their heads snap towards you and every trace of frustration and theatrical betrayal vanish.

“Oh hey Kiddo.”

Norm waves, standing up and stretching his arms over his head. Max follows behind him, cracking his back with a groan before smiling at you with a warm familiarity.

You stand awkwardly greeting the two with respectful nods.

“I hope I’m not interrupting.”

“Oh no, never, You caught us at a good time.”

Max waves away the notion of apology from the air,

“To what do we owe the pleasure?”

Norm leans against the wall, grabbing a spare mask made for avatars and reaching out his hand to offer it to you.

You shake your hand, gently pushing the mask away.

“I’m not staying long.Is spider around?”

“He's outside.”

The three of you jump a bit at the sounds of footsteps above you, thick metallic thuds echo from the outside.

“Oh. well, now he’s up..side?” Norm gestures to the roof where spider’s evident movement was heard.

“Oh son of a- he’s gonna tear his stitches. That’s like the 5th time in the last 4 days.”

Max groaned, running to grab a med kit that sat on a table in the corner.

“I_..I can go let him know you guys don’t want him climbing?”

Your tail thwacks your shoulder blades. An exemplary allude of nervousness.

Norm nods, folding up the black and white squared board that laid flat on the table.

“That’d be great, he listens to you.”

You exited the shack without words, looking up at the slightly slanted roof and metal poles that curved embed with the shape. You jumped, hoisting yourself up over the awkward overhang before sitting atop it. You paused when two dangling pale legs came into view, you crawled over the next curve and were met with Spider’s back.

You froze for a moment.

Because it’s just now you realize that you thought the anticipation was what intimidated you. Just the walk from your ikran to the shack itself like like an unendruable trek towards something unmapped. Uncharted.

Your clan glorified you because they cannot see the contrast within recklessness and bravery.

To everyone around you, you were never afraid of the unknown. Dancing where others struggled to stand on uneven ground. Danger was an adventure. Not an intimidation. In a sky devoid of light you never feared the dark.

The wait was never what you should have feared. The uncertainty, in the silent torment of your thoughts was a comfort you’ve taken forgranted.

Because now you have to face him.

You can’t pretend to be made of stone forever. Eventually you’ll break like glass.

You reach your hand out, tapping his shoulders.

“Spider.”

His name comes out hoarse. The two syllables sound as if they had to pry thesmelves from the depths of your throat.

He turns around, and you can’t get yourself to meet his eyes. They settle in his lap, and you see his knife and a sharpening tool resting there.

“Hey.”

He whispered, turning around to face you. He places the knife and sharpening tool in a pouch resting on his hip.

There's an awkward silence as you both turn to face the edge of the mountain where only a few marui’s scattered and stopped where the natural stone barrier of highcamp enclosed you all inside.

Your breath hitches as your eyes follow two na’vi children running around playing a game, tackling each other and screeching.

And for a moment, for a fragment of a second, you swear you see you and spider.

“Norm and Max don’t want you up here.”

You say it unintentionally. But you needed something to fill the space between you. The silence demanded too much of your attention.

Spider glances over at you, swinging his feet absentmindedly.

“Yeah..I know. I just-”

He tugs at his locs lightly.

“I don’t know. I can’t think with my feet on the ground.”

Really? You never would have guessed.

“I think we should talk.”

“About what?”

You look at him, wondering if he’s forgotten your argument.

He squints at you before his gaze settles on the ground.

“Oh. That.”

“Did you forget.”

He shook his head.

“No. I tried though.”

Silence strikes again. Suffocating the expanse of what pressed between you two. It’s an oppressive hum of the unendurable truth that is heavy and refuses to remain unacknowledged.

“I’m sorry, I was an asshole. I know you were just worried and-”

He paused.

“No. Let’s start with this.

Y/n you’re the strongest person I know.

You’re intelligent and badass and a warrior. And I love that about you. But I remember a time where you’re life didn’t revolve around this war. And sometimes I feel like- part of why you put yourself into that position to protect me…I don’t want you going out and risking you’re life because I’m weak and small and-“

“You’re not weak.”

You cut him off. The edge of your voice makd his hands stop their fidgeting.

“You’re not weak. You’re just not like us.”

You expect hi to flinch or scowl when you say that but he does nothing of the sort. There’s a sadness behind his eyes shadowed by the long ignored truth.

You sigh, staring back up at the dark sky.

“We can paint as many layers and shades of blue as we can and it still can’t hide what’s underneath.”

“Yeah. A sky demon.”

He mumbles quietly.

“A product of mistakes that someone else made.”

You correct.

He's silent, he stares ahead.

“That’s one way of putting it.”

You nod, swaying your feet in a rhythm that matches his own.

“If we both were to climb a tree and throw ourselves off the highest branches, who would have a better chance of lesser injury. You, or me?”

Spider is quiet in his response. Almost embarrassed.

“You.”

“Which one of us can run faster?”

He rolls his eyes subtly, shoving you softly with his palm.

“You.”

“Who has more knowledge about the sky demons and their weaknesses.”

“Me?”

You both pause . You smile and nudge him back.

“That doesn’t make either of us stronger or weaker from the other. We’re different. But there is no difference that can divide what has grown between us, spider.”

He finally looks at you.

“I never should have brought up sa’nok. It was wrong.”

You whispered

For a moment you both slip to the center of your spiral. The center that was slowly unraveling to reveal a pain you both could wish never existed.

“But that is our common ground. We were raised under the same roof, in the same family.”

He leans his head on your shoulder, and the motion makes your still, your spine stiffening.

It’s not unwelcomed. Just unexpected.

“When they died I thought that they would separate us.”

Pain and fear is heard in his voice. And Jake says you and Lo’ak are a trouble making duo? You’ve clearly never met pain and fear. Two wretched companions that gnaw at the marrow of every shred of hope. It's the shadow that stalks even in the most mundane of moments.

“They vouched for me. Even when the rest of the clan said I didn't belong with a family.”

“I don't care what the rest of the clan thinks.”

You affirm.

Spider blinks at you. Seemingly shocked.

“But they’re your people.”

“So are you!”

You toss your head back and groan, taking your frustrations out on the sky.

“Why does everyone else get to tell me who I love? Who do I choose to protect and value as my own?”

Spider is quiet. He goes to answer, but nothing comes out.

“I don’t know.” he whispers.

“I don’t know either. Listen, no one gets to tell us that we aren’t family. Family isn’t always who you share blood with.

I may not have lived with you continuously throughout my life, but I would die for you at the end of the day. You’re my family because I remember playing with you in the river and chasing you down the stream. You’re my brother because I remember staying beside you even when other children said you being in my home meant that we shared your ‘human germs’.”

He stares at you. You can’t decipher what he’s thinking.

“Why should anyone else decide what you are to me?”

“Neytiri can.”

Spider interjects. Her name isn’t resentful in his voice, it’s rather longing for something distant. Something he’s never had.

You look down. Regretful.

“I can’t change the way she thinks about humans. She’s just afraid, and shes protective of her family-”

“I know that. But she’s also protective of you. And I don’t hate you for it. But-”

He stops. Staring down at his hands as if they are stained with something you can’t see.

“But what?”

You inquire gently, like trying to coax a shy child to speak.

“I’m gonna sound like such an asshole if I say it.”

You snort.

“It’s okay. I felt the same way earlier.”

He takes a breath.

“It’s not fair. They were parents to both of us. But you're the one taken in after they die. They would never do that to me. Because I'm not a na’vi.”

“Spider, I know it feels like that but they aren’t abandoning you for some sort of vengeance-

My- our mother and neytiri were like sisters. Jake and our parents were close. They promised that if anything happened to either of them they would step up for me.”

“No. They promised to step up to take any children she had under their wing.”

“Spider…”

“I’m not mad at you. It’s just frustrating. You get off at the easy lane while I'm going 90 miles to nothin’ off a cliff.”

And there it was again. That sting.

“Easy lane? Did you think this, any of this was easy for me? Having neytiri and mo’at braid my hair the way our mother would? Having jake accidentally call me “Zensira” for the first few months by accident? That day we had to leave the old village and come to high camp, the day I walked past the home we grew up in for a final time? Saying a last goodbye to the place where every moment of laughter, every memory, every fragment of joy I've known in my life feel so empty? So dark and cold?”

Spider shakes his head frantically.

“No! No of course not, we both lost something that day. I remember it too..It’s just..They’re there for you. You know?”

“I'm here for you.”

You reiterate. Almost desperate. At this moment you felt like a spider and you were onlookers into a mirror where he refused to acknowledge that you could both see your reflection upon the same surface.

“Iv’e been here. I’m staying here. So is Lo’ak, and kiri, tuk, norm, and max-”

You stop mid sentence as you remember what was scractching at the back of your brain.

“Oh by the way, max told me to tell you to stop tearing your stitches.”

You both are quiet. And then you laugh. You both laugh hard. And you nor him really know why.

As the laughter dies down he rests his head on your shoulder, whispering into the air.

“I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry too.”

What were you both sorry for? Everything. Nothing. Somethings. Because this is where you both surrender. Even while you both remain tainted with the bitter aftertaste of unresolved tension, you withdrew, but not in peace—no, it was more like the calm that precedes a storm, an uneasy lull where the heart strains against its own quietude.

You both were stronger than what or whoever came between you. That was a fact.

₊⋆⁺☀︎₊☾⁺☀︎₊𖦹✮⋆⁺₊⋆☾⁺☀︎₊₊⋆⁺☀︎₊☾⁺☀︎₊𖦹✮⋆⁺₊₊⋆⁺☀︎₊☾⁺☀︎₊𖦹✮⋆⁺₊⋆☾⁺☀︎₊₊⋆⁺☀︎₊☾⁺☀︎₊𖦹✮⋆⁺₊₊⋆⁺☀︎₊☾⁺☀︎₊𖦹✮⋆⁺₊⋆☾⁺☀︎₊₊⋆⁺☀︎₊☾⁺☀︎₊𖦹✮⋆⁺₊

*emerges from my cave*

Hehe..hi…long time no see, huh?

Now before you throw the pitchforks at me, I can explain my delay of this chapter. For those of you who have read my bio, you already know I’m a film student. In the next few weeks me and a group of my classmates are going to start shooting a film entirely directed, produced, and written by us. I’m the art director and getting ready to travel (we’re filming in another location) has made me so busy…on another note I had to rewrite this chapter almost 5 times because it never came out right until now.

But, allow us to move on a happier note…

Happy Valentine’s Day and Black history month guys! I hope everyone enjoyed this chapter as much as I did.

Neteyam and Y/n have finally started they’re training sessions, so buckle up for more tension to come. And FINALLY! Spider and y/n are back on speaking terms. Phew. (This will not be the last argument they have in this story 😚)

Writing for Kyuna is so funny. Like, take a hint please shawty. He don’t want you. Ugh. It's desperation for me. And we left off on a cliffhanger with Jake and Neteyam? That will be an interesting conversation for next chapter..hm..ANYWAYSSS I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter!

btw for my arcane watchers, do neteyam and y/n give you guys ekko and jinx vibes??

₊𖦹✮⋆⁺₊⋆☾⁺☀︎₊₊⋆⁺☀︎₊☾⁺☀︎₊𖦹✮⋆⁺₊

TAGLIST!

@fluorynn (THIS ONE’S FOR YOU FYNE SHYTE)

@mntx666

@isnt-itstrange @thebestrouge

@bay7let

@fairuzwhat

@jackiehollanderr

@6423btw

@satesatesate2009

@OstargirlO

@heavenlysstuff

@dayyzlol

@iheartamajiki

@fluorynn

@bakugouswaif

@eljaynosine-triphosphate

@mojo-jojo-1

@strongheartneteyam

@hungrynessforfics

@ravenxx888

@teyamsgirlx

@notsaelty

@eywaite

@love7buggy

I love you all! Happy Valentine’s Day everyone!

#avatar the way of water #neteyam x reader #kiri sully #neytiri #avatar fanfiction #jake avatar #lo’ak x reader #neteyam sully #neteyam x you #neteyam #neteyam x na'vi!reader

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silentglassbreak · 1 year ago

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Okay but like hear me out…

NSFW

Low level witch - only dabbling in the arts.

Cast a love spell on Noah Sebastian.

You’ve met him, but you don’t know him. You only know he’s mouth watering and has the voice of a siren.

So you and your girlfriends are fucking around one night over a bottle of wine - or four…

‘C’mon little witch! Cast a spell for us!’

‘You know you want him! If your magic is so real, then prove it!’

So you cast the spell. You make the jar. You use a photo. You have a glove that he tossed off stage.

It’s not a lot. But it’s enough.

And you expect nothing to come of it, because although you’re practicing…what’re the odds?

But then…

He’s all over you. Calling. Texting. FaceTiming.

You’re not even sure how he got your number.

And he wants to see you. Offers to come see you on his only off day. Wants to go on a date. Wants to cuddle. Is very up front about what he is craving.

And when he finally gets his hands on you???

He’s fucking f e r a l.

He’s so into pleasing you. Worshipping you. Eating you like it’s his last god damn meal.

He talks you through the entire experience.

‘Fuck, babe. I can’t believe I waited this long to have you.’

‘You can’t even imagine how badly I wanted to feel you on me.’

‘It’s okay, baby girl. You can take more, I promise.’

‘Just can’t get enough of you, angel. Your pussy is like fucking heaven.’

And you cry, because it’s so much. And it shows no signs of stopping.

‘I’ve got you, baby. Just a little longer, I swear. Just need to savor you.’

‘Look at you, being such a good fucking girl.’

‘You can cry, love. I’m right here. I’ve got you.’

And when he’s finally done? He feeds you snacks, anything you want. He lays with you, watching movies, letting you cuddle him until you’re fading into the brink of consciousness.

And he pets your hair, smoothing it out. You hear his voice, soft as a fucking feather.

‘Don’t know what happened, but it’s like I can’t live without you.’

Idfk I thought about this at the gym.

I’ll crawl back in my hole and work on my asks now.

Kthxbye 🙃

#bad omens #fanfic #noah sebastian #bad omens fanfiction #noah sebastian fic #bad omens cult

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xx-like-a-villian-xx · 11 months ago

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For The Last Time | One

“It had been months since you’d seen each other, five and three days to be exact (not that he was counting or anything), months since you had broken up with him. You said it was for the best, that your careers were more important but Noah didn’t think so.”

What I thought was going to be a lil angsty one shot has become a multiple part cry fest ahhh. Here’s part one <3

I'm posting this because it's in my drafts x

My ao3 is HERE

Also let me know if you want to be tagged in any upcoming posts :)

CW: post break up, angst, Noah has lots of feelings, “talking” about feelings, loads of swearing

(Dropping this because it was burning a hole in my drafts and I just wanted to get it out there)

18+ MDNI | Noah Sebastian x Reader

“Thought I’d find you here.” Your voice reached Noah’s ears like a siren song and it was infuriating.

He turned slightly, watching you approach him in that dress, that fucking dress that hugged every single curve on your body so perfectly it made him feel crazy, feral. He had been trying his damned hardest to avoid you all night and of course you found him, cigarette between his tattooed fingers, on the balcony, moping.

“The party is wild in there.” You gestured to the balcony doors that were muffling the sound of chatter and loud music inside.

“Yeah, I just needed some quiet.” His voice was gruff when he spoke and it only made you roll your eyes.

It had been months since you’d seen each other, five and three days to be exact (not that he was counting or anything), months since you had broken up with him. You said it was for the best, that your careers were more important but Noah didn’t think so.

You see, Noah would have walked through fire, jumped in front of a bullet, he would have stolen the moon from the fucking sky if you asked him to but you didn’t feel the same and as much as it hurt to watch you walk away, he did because he loved you. Issue is, he just couldn’t get over you.

He had avoided you like the plague for months but it was getting progressively harder because you shared friends. Usually it was easy, he left when you showed up, he asked around to see if you were going to events so he could make excuses not to go. It was fine, he hated socialising at the best of times so it was no skin off his nose.

Then you showed up to the album release in that fucking dress and his heart just about dropped out of his ass. And the worst part? You had some six foot four Doberman energy gym rat on your arm. That’s when he found himself storming out to the balcony with a half drank bottle of Hennessy and a pack of cigarettes he had stolen off the kitchen island.

He didn’t dare look at you again, instead his eyes stayed trained on the twinkling lights of the city when you joined him at the railing, your warmth burning his skin like acid.

”How have you been?”

Well that was a loaded question. What was he meant to say? ‘Oh yeah, I’m fantastic, nice to see you, Y/N. Who’s the hunk?’ Nah. He would rather put his hand in a blender.

“Fine.” He wasn’t in the mood to talk to you. Instead he stubbed the cigarette out and took a long swig of the cognac, letting it burn down his throat in an attempt to quell the anger boiling in his blood.

He could feel you shift uncomfortably next to him and he had to stop himself from rolling his eyes. What did you have to feel uncomfortable about? You practically tore his heart out and curb stomped it. And to add a cherry on top of the shit icing, you decided his fucking album release party would be the best time to hard launch your new man.

Noah really, really wasn’t in the mood and he was practically begging the gods to make you just go inside and forget about it, enjoy your night and have fun but instead you reached out, took the bottle from his hands and took a huge swig.

Fuck.

“Shouldn’t you be with your date, Mick is it?” He finally grits through a clenched jaw.

You chuckle lightly. “It’s Mike, and he’s talking to Folio about fishing.”

Betrayer, of course he would be. Trust Folio to be rubbing shoulders with the enemy over fucking fishing poles.

Noah hums, running a hand through his recently cut short hair.

”It suits you, you know, short hair.” He turned to you fully with furrowed eyebrows. What was your game?

God you looked fucking beautiful, your hair was pulled back into a bun at the back of your neck, curled strands framing your face. Sharp wings of eyeliner made your eye colour stand out beautifully in the low light, along with those dark lashes and your lips were painted a shade of red that could only be described as unholy and fuck, he just wanted to feel them on his again.

”You think?” His voice was weak and he internally kicked himself for even looking at you because his knees felt weak and his stomach felt like it might explode.

You smiled that smile that he fell for all those years ago, reaching your hand out to brush a stray piece of hair from his eyes.

Yeah, he was well and truly fucked, done for, so fucking completely in love with you. He was never getting over you.

“Hey, we’re about to play the album.” Nicholas’ voice from the balcony door made you jump back away from Noah.

”See you inside, yeah?” He nodded at your words, watching you walk back inside to Mike, planting a soft kiss on the guy's cheek and Noah wanted to vomit.

Nicholas was staring at him with a smirk.

”Shut the fuck up.” Noah pointed at his best friend, grabbing the bottle of Hennessy before pushing his way inside.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

Noah had been shifting uncomfortable in his seat, your narrowed eyes burning into him for almost an hour. You were clinging on to every fucking lyric he wrote and he knew he was in for it the moment you could get him alone again.

So as soon as the album had played through and chatter started up again, he was up on his feet, moving across the room before you could get to him.

”Hey, Noah isn’t it?” Oh for fuck’s sake. Mike held a hand out to him,

Noah hesitantly shook it with a smile that he was faking hard, gritting his teeth. “Yeah, nice to meet you…Mike?”

The taller man grinned. “Yeah, I’m Y/N’s boyfriend but I’m guessing you already know.”

Yeah, he fucking does know.

“It’s so sick that she knows you guys, I’ve listened to your last two albums and they go hard, man.”

Noah nodded, smiling, looking behind the guy to see you storming towards them with clenched fists.

“Look, Mike, I’m sorry to cut this short bu-“

“Hi babe, what are we talking about?” Fuck, you were now standing next to Mike, staring up at Noah with a false grin that screamed ‘I’m going to fucking kill you’.

”Oh, I was just telling Noah how much I fuck with the music babe.” Mike was completely unaware of the frustration bubbling in your bones, wrapping an arm around your shoulders.

”That’s lovely.” You cooed, planting a kiss on his cheek. “Could you give Noah and I a second to talk, Folio is looking for you I think.”

Shit, shit, shit. There was no way he was getting out of it now. Mike leaned down to pull you into a kiss before strutting towards Folio and Noah just about wanted the ground to swallow him up right there and then.

”Downstairs, now.”

He had no choice but to follow you down the stairs like a lost dog, shuffling his feet as you stomped down the steps. As soon as you reached the outside, you turned to him with flailing arms.

”What the fuck is all that, Noah? You think that’s okay, airing our dirty laundry out like that?” You were seething, face turning beet red.

”It’s music, Y/N, not everything is about you.”

“Oh so ‘someone else’, ‘the death of peace of mind’ and what was the other one? ‘Bad decisions’? They’re not about me? Right…so the pretty much direct fucking quotes from our break up aren’t there? Sure.” You huffed, crossing your arms over your chest.

”First of all, it’s ‘somebody else’. Second of all, why does it matter? You’ve clearly moved on. I mean fuck me right?” He laughed incredulously, running a hand through his hair. “You said that you didn’t want to be with me anymore because your career was taking up all of your time and energy and then you show up here with a new guy, smushing face with him in front of me and my brothers like nothing happened. We were together for six fucking years, Y/N!”

He took a deep breath, chest heaving. You stared up at him with glassy eyes full of fire but he was past caring by that point.

”So forgive me, darling, for pouring my heart into my music. Our break up is still a fresh wound. I genuinely thought that we were gonna be end game and yeah, I’m not fucking over it. Did you even listen to ‘Just Pretend’, huh?”

A tear fell from your lashes onto your cheekbone, your face softening and Noah couldn’t watch. He hated the bullshit, the anger, the sadness. He just wanted to wrap you up in his arms and go back to when everything was okay, back when you were still his. Fuck, it was too much.

”Look, I’m sorry for shouting. I just find it really hypocritical of you to be going off at me like that when you completely blindsided me tonight.”

You nodded your head quickly, wiping the tears away with the back of your hand. He was right, you had no place to be upset when you had hurt him, really fucking hurt him.

Noah could hear Jolly calling his name from inside and he sighed. “Maybe we can talk about all of this over coffee sometime next week. It’s a conversation we really need to have, cut the loose ends so both of us can move on, yeah?”

“Yeah.” Your voice was quiet as a mouse, eyes trained on your shoes.

He wanted to reach out, pull you into his chest and comfort you but it wasn’t the right time, he didn’t think it would ever be. You had someone else to hold you and he was upstairs waiting.

“Text me, my number is still the same.”

With a sad smile, he turned, making his way back inside.

#noah sebastian fanfiction #noah sebastian #bad omens fanfiction #bad omens fic #bad omens band #badomens #bad omens #bad omens cult #noah sebastian smut #noah sebastian angst #noah sebastian x reader #nicholas ruffilo #jolly karlsson #nick folio #reader insert

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mochacoffeeumai26 · 2 years ago

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•Mini Mirage• (Part 2)

Mirage X female human child reader

Summary: Just a regular day with your, dad Mirage, but this time, you make a new friend.

"Stop that kid!! Thief!! Thief!!!"

You heard the store owner yell after you as you ran. This was nothing new, since you basically had no money or anything, you had to steal. Did you feel guilty about it? No, not really.

If you were gonna be honest, it was pretty fun. Especially the car chases, those were rare but still fun.

For a second, you thought you were gonna get caught cause your backpack was heavier than usual.

You grinned when you heard the sound of a car horn, it was Mirage, he was in his alt form. He opened the door and you jumped in.

"Go, go, go!! Go, dad, go!!" You laughed and closed the door. Mirage immediately drove off.

"Damn, kiddo! You almost got caught this time!" You heard Mirage over the radio.

"But it was fun! And you know it," You smiled.

"Can't argue with that, [Name]. Whatcha get this time?"

You pulled out all your favourite snacks from your backpack.

Your smiled faded when you heard a siren and saw red and blue flashing lights behind you.

"Hang on, mini me. Looks like we're gonna have another fun car chase," Mirage spoke.

Currently, you were sitting in the back seat of Mirage's alt form. You had managed to lose the cops a few minutes ago.

For now, you both were in a parking lot.

You rubbed your eyes and yawned, it was already past the time you normally slept.

"You sleepy, kiddo? You know you don't have to stay up," Mirage chuckled.

"Thanks, dad. Thought you'd never say that." You mumbled as you lied down.

You almost immediately fell asleep.

You expected to wake up at the warehouse, but this time, that wasn't the case.

Instead, you woke up to the sound of a male screaming.

What was happening...?

You sat up and looked at the front seat, you saw someone was occupying it. You also noticed that you were being chased by the police, again.

"What the...?" You rubbed your eyes.

"Aaaaah!!! Wha- who are you?!" The man looked at you in confusion he looked so scared-

"Good question. But, who are you? This is my car."

"What?!- Oh my God!!"

The male got cut off when the cop car bumped the back of the car and the car was now going backwards.

"Can you not scream so much? You're gonna damage my ears, dude. What's your name? I'm [Name]." You smiled a little bit

"Uh- Noah. Wha- How are you so calm about this, kid?!" Noah yelled, for a second he completely forgot about the car chase as he looked at you.

Why was there a kid in the car?! Why was she so calm?! How did he not notice her before?!

"This is an emergency. Can you hear me, Mirage? Roll out!" You heard Optimus' voice over the radio.

"Mir- what?" Noah looked at the radio in confusion. You tapped his shoulder and pointed around.

"Oh. Mirage..."

You jumped out of the car while Noah in the other hand was throw out of of Mirage's alt form.

"Whoo-hoo-hoo! That felt good!" You grinned hearing Mirage's voice.

Noah looked shocked and confused as he stared at Mirage.

"Damn! I've been cooped up forever, dude. I can't tell you how boring it gets."

Noah turned his attention to you, you seemed pretty calm, if anything happy even. The male looked back at Mirage.

"But that was fun, man. You're fun, dude." Mirage looked down at Noah.

The human was quick to get up on his feet and pick up a metal pipe. "Back up!"

You snickered, you know that even if he tried, Noah couldn't really do any damage to your dad.

"Woah- woah, woah, woah. What's with the aggression? I thought after the car chase we were boys. What, are you gonna hit me?"

"...Maybe."

You rolled your eyes before going into your backpack and taking out a bag of chips. You were too hungry to really pay attention to the conversation.

All you know was that you and Mirage had definately made a new friend.

(unedited and rushed. Sorry-)

#optimus prime #transformers rotb #rotb mirage #rotb noah #rotb x reader #mirage x reader #mirage transformers #noah diaz #noah diaz transformers #noah diaz x reader #Dad Mirage #Mirage X child reader

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badnoahmens · 1 year ago

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I Took Your Keys, It Was Me - Part 4

Noah Sebastian x Reader

Words: approx. 3.7k

A/N: This fic has been a sloooow burn, so maybe it’s time to change the pace? Thank you to everyone who has kept up with these updates to far, I’ve been uninspired and your kind words have been the only reason I have been writing this 🖤

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

The noise of sirens rang in your head, bouncing in your skull. It took minutes before the blur from eyes started to fade away, the sounds of the world coming into the correct frequency.

There was something sharp and uncomfortable poking into your side which made you squirm, still unable to fully open your eyes.

There was a crackle and some movement to your left, murmurs growing louder as each second ticked by. There was a trickle of warmth running down your face, your arm, and now that you think of it, most of your body.

The sharp pain to your left grew stronger, causing you to lurch forward and scream, the sudden pain contorting your insides into an excruciating puzzle.

The buzzing grew louder, and the lights surrounding you shone brighter than a second ago. There were noises of people and machines and cars and just about everything else that made your head spin even more, making the dizziness unbearable.

Without thinking, you twist to the side, upheaving the contents of your stomach onto the floor, leaning through an opening that wasn’t there a second ago.

You could feel arms pulling and twisting at you, and you couldn’t do anything but succumb to their will.

As the tugging of limbs pulled you from a twisted metal cave, the trance of consciousness wavered, and eventually fell silent.

The incessant beeping is what awoke you, the tight restrictions of medical tubes wrapping your arms came next. Your eyes blink slowly, bringing into focus the white clinical walls that surround you. A shadowy figure was by your side, details of their face too distorted from your blurred vision to make out who it was.

As you begin to twist, the figure moves, coming closer to you, making it easier to make out their features. It’s your friend, the one you haven't seen in weeks, the one you thought that you should tell about your dates with Noah, the same friend who came to the Bad Omens show with you way back when - all of two weeks.

Her face looks like fear being masked by a fake sense of confidence, it was easy to tell that she was putting on a brave face as if not to scare you.

She calls your name, and you respond with a slight smile.

“What on earth happened?” she asked, voice laced with worry, a hand finding their way to rub soothingly on the bare skin of your arm.

“I think…. My car… I pulled out in front of someone?” you ask, still unsure yourself, finding it difficult to make sense of the flash of memories from that moment.

She takes a moment, looking over your bandages, the tubes sticking out of you, and the drip that steadily held the pain at bay.

“Well that was kind of a stupid thing to do” she laughed, and gave you a look that you were all too used to.

You chuckle in response, her humour was something that always made you smile. The sarcastic jokes between you two growing up had become the love language of your friendship.

It was in this lull of silence that there was a knock at the door. Both your heads tilted to view who entered in.

You have a fond smile, as much as you could manage in this state, to Noah as he walked in, who looked like his eyes almost fell from their sockets. With a quick few steps, he was by your side, sitting opposite your friend.

If Noah looked shocked to see you, your friend looked like she just saw a ghost. He face didn’t move a muscle, eyes glued to Noah as she watched him take in the image of you in the hospital bed.

It was then when it clicked; you still hadn’t told her about everything.

It had all happened so fast, and you thought you were doing the right thing. Keeping your meetups private was you trying to be respectful of Noah.

Right now though, it would probably be best if your best friend had known what you had been up to.

Noah calls your name, bringing you out of the daze you were in. He looks at you with a worry stricken face.

“It’s okay, I’m okay… I think” you trail off. Your hand pats the top of his, that was hesitantly wavering on the side of the bed. Just as you feel the awkward silence begin, a doctor enters, flashing a glance between the three of you.

“You’re mostly right” he said, referring to your comment. “Lost a bit of blood, got a few cracks in the ribs, and you were severely dehydrated.”

The doctor seemed very relaxed about the state you were in, giving a strange sense of comfort. If he was calm, then you should be too.

“You’re going to need a hand moving around though. Your abdominal muscles will hurt like hell for a while. Is there someone who can assist you with daily tasks?” He asked, flicking through the clipboard of notes that hung by the end of your bed.

“Yes, she’ll be looked after” Noah responds, before even letting you speak.

“Great! You’ll be discharged soon. Take it easy and come back for a check up in a few weeks” the doctor stated, then exited the room.

“Noah…” you look at him, but he simply shakes his head.

“I’m the reason you’re here, I’ll be the reason you’ll recover just fine”. He sits back in the chair, glancing at the machines by your side. His jaw clenched as he looks away again.

“It’s not your fault” you say almost sternly, shifting as you try to sit yourself upright. The pain that tears through your abdomen makes you gasp and fall back, wincing and squeezing your eyes shut. It takes a moment for it to settle, and once it does, you let out a shaky breath.

As your eyes peel open, you look back at your friend. It was as though she was frozen. A statue. Eyes still locked on Noah, mouth slightly ajar.

“Is he the one who hit your car?!” she whispered, looking at you in a not-so-hushed tone. Her expression looked almost angry as she glanced at him again.

“No! No that’s not it!” It almost made you laugh, which hurt your chest.

“After the show the other week” you wince again, pushing in your arms to straighten yourself up. “Noah and I got talking. We've been talking.”

Her eyebrows raise in disbelief and she leans in close to you.

“Are you telling me you went on a DATE. And this has been going on for WEEKS?!” She attempts to whisper again, failing to hide her shock from Noah.

“We caught up yesterday… and today…”

Her reaction was yet again priceless. This time, along with the wide eyes, a smile graces her face, seemingly overcoming her star-struckness as she leans back in her chair.

“Do you know how insane this sounds? Like, this is actually crazy” she was now talking as if Noah wasn’t even in the room. She continued, “so, you’re dating the frontman of our favourite band?”

Your smile was all the answer she needed. She squealed in excitement, bouncing out of her chair to readjust her legs.

“You have to tell me everything about-“

She was cut off by Noah clearing his throat, a smug smile on his lips, even if he was still avoiding eye contact.

You mouth an “I promise” to your friend, who nods understandingly. She then stands, gathering her things into her bag and propping it over her shoulder.

“I’m only a phone call away. I mean it. If you need anything.” She stated matter-of-factly. You nod, squeezing her outstretched hand, before she bids her farewells and exits the room.

“She seems like a great friend” Noah comments as the door closes.

“She is. Been by my side forever” you say. Toying with the flimsy white hospital blanket. “You know you don’t need to help me. I know tour is still going and-“

“There’s nothing you need to worry about. It’s all been handled” he says calmly, intertwining his hand with your fidgeting one, looping his fingers between yours.

“Thank you” you say with a shaky voice. You didn’t want to admit it, but you were scared.

Over the next few hours, there are a few more visits from nurses, making sure that the injuries weren’t serious and that you were in the clear to leave. They seemed relieved when they saw the way Noah held out his hand for you to steady your balance. Despite a feeble attempt to walk on your own, he was insistent, and you couldn’t deny that it was indeed helpful to have him there.

He helped you into a cab that was ready and waiting, and you gave the directions to your home.

The cab ride was quiet, but Noah kept his hand in yours. He was careful as to not squeeze too hard as to hurt the bruising, and rushed as fast as he could to hold the door open for you when you finally arrived home.

You step from the cab and gather your belongings in a small bag, which Noah promptly takes for you and slings over his shoulder. You huff in response.

“I’ll need that so that I can unlock the front door.” You hold out a hand expectantly, but Noah ignores it. Instead, he runages through the tote, shuffling back the phone, wallet, even a stray tampon, and then raises the keys triumphantly. A few silver keys dangled, paired with your old key ring and the key to your car.

“I remember these!” He said happily as he reminisced on the story of how you met.

“That seems like forever ago” you reply, following as Noah walks towards the door, swinging it open and motioning his hand in front of him.

You step through the threshold and into your living room, glancing around to see the scattered mess that you had left pieces of clothing strewn carelessly by your bedroom door, after the fiasco that had made you be in such a rush earlier that morning. It was a little embarrassing, but with the feeling of drowsiness starting to set in, it didn’t really bother you that much.

Noah walks past you, placing your bag of belongings into the small island that was the center of your kitchen. He notices the yawn you let out and walks over to you, gently placing his arm over your shoulder and pulling you into a hug.

Your arms curl up to his chest as you rest your shoulder on him, his heartbeat steady beneath his shirt. Your eyes close, and you let out a breath, feeling content for the first time in hours.

“You should probably get some sleep. I’ll be right here if you need anything.” His grip tightens, and then loosens, as if to gesture to you to do as he says.

And you were not in the mood to argue. “Make yourself at home” you say, looking up at him drowsily, and he offers you a sweet smile back.

Without anything else said, you turn, heading straight for your bedroom. With the door closed, lights off, and finally under the covers, it didn’t take long to fall into a deep sleep.

It might have been the pain killers, the dark room, and just because you were flat-out exhausted, but it was hours later when you finally woke up.

There was no way of knowing what hour it was, your phone was somewhere else and the sky outside was a dark veil of a blue-black. Tip-toeing to the door, it creaks open, the light from the kitchen and living area still alight.

The clock on the wall shows the hands pointed at 12:45AM, and the TV continued to play a show that you hadn’t seen before. You walk towards the lounge, trying your best to be quiet on the hardwood floors as you could see an arm slung sleepily over the edge of the lounge, but fail once something twitches inside you, tugging at the injuries. You let out an involuntary yelp, falling forwards, arm only just catching the back of the sofa. Your other arm curled around your torso, clutching as though you were trying to hold yourself together. Tears started to well up and you were breathing heavily, huffing to try and control the searing pain that was starting to spread.

You startle Noah as he jolts upright in a panic, his hair completely strewn. His eyes are still half closed as he stumbles to his feet over to you, tripping over his feet a little. When he reaches your side, he helps you, taking a hand in yours, the other hand resting on your shoulder, semi-carrying your weight to lead you to sit down.

He steadies you as you lower, sitting while letting out a shaky breath. He still had your hand, clutching your fingers between his as your heartbeat finally started to come down to a normal pace.

Noah’s face was still covered in shock, processing what was happening around him. He looked concerned, hesitant to move, to touch you or help in any other way.

“I’m…. so…. sorry…” you huffed between breaths.

“S’okay” he murmured in response, clearly still half asleep.

“I can’t believe you’re still here” you say, looking at Noah, who met your eyes. It was an attempt to fill the silence growing in the room, and to distract you from the throbbing still occurring in your ribs.

“I wasn’t going to leave you here on your own.”

“You have things to do, shows to play. You can stay here, of course, but don’t you need to leave soon?”

“You don’t need to worry about that.” It was the casualness that he said it, that made you worry.

“What do you mean by that?” You ask, and he smiles, looking down at your hands.

“Everything has been sorted.” He comments, wriggling his fingers, turning your hand over in his.

“You’re awfully vague for someone who has everything planned out,” now you’re watching your hands, Noah begins to trace the lines of blue veins he sees under your skin.

“You didn’t cancel, did you?” It was almost embarrassing how fast you came to that conclusion, but he chuckles.

“No, the show is still happening. It’s not that far of a drive. Everyone else is heading in earlier, and I’ll meet them before the show starts.” He places your hand down, lifting his arm to rest over your shoulder. “And so will you.”

You look at him, unsure of what he was going on about.

“I don’t ha-“

“Like I said. It’s sorted.” He gives a small eyebrow raise as if to imply ‘I win’.

You, on the other hand, determined to flesh out as many details, pressed on.

“So how will we get there?”

“Car.” Noah was quick to respond.

“Who’s car?”

“Hire.”

“How long of a drive?”

“‘Bout an hour.”

He was looking smug now. You thought quickly to come up with more questions.

“What about after the show?”

“I’ll drive you back.”

“You’re not doing that.” You demand. That was too much on him.

“Yes I am.” He sounded like a stubborn child.

“It’ll be too late.”

His head rolls to the side, looking directly into your eyes.

“I’m a big boy, I can drive at night.”

It might have been the confidence that oozed from his voice, or the fact that he just called himself a ‘big boy’, but you felt something flip inside your stomach, a heat rising up to your chest, red bow flushing your cheeks with a hot glow.

All you could offer was a smile, looking back into his dark oak eyes. The way he was looking at you made you feel the safest you had ever felt.

Something came over you, and you held your breath, eyes slipping closed as you lean in, ever so slightly to Noah.

It could have been a hug, a kiss on the check, or something more mundane, but Noah knew this was an invitation. One he happily and needily accepted.

His lips meet yours, keeping his pressure light, but you needed a little more than that. You leaned more into the kiss, and he read the message loud and clear. His body shifts so that he’s facing you, leaning back and pulling you with him to sit atop his lap. Your lips are moving a little faster now, starting to part ever so slightly, so much that you can just feel Noah sweep his tongue over your lip. You reciprocate the action, holding onto either side of his face with your hands, knees now pinned on either side of his torso. Your lips part again, this time offering your tongue, and Noah opens needily. His breath is hot on your face as he tries to hold back every nerve in his body from taking this too far.

His head shifts closer to you, doing what he can in such confined space to bring you closer to him. His mouth moves with intent, like he was controls g each micro movement of his.

With the slightest tilt of your head, Noah’s lips crept to the nape of your neck, leaving a trail of fire where his lips and tongue darted across your skin. His hands gripped at your waist, digging into the sensitive skin being exposed from your shirt being tugged up just a little. His thumb rubbed carefully as though to say sorry, even though he wasn’t apologetic in the slightest.

All your mouth could do, while Noah’s lips were now starting to run down to your collarbone, was hang open. The sensation, the heat, and the overwhelming fire inside you made it impossible to move, just in case if you did then all this would stop.

Noah watched the way you were falling apart, and he loved every second of it. He had been waiting for this moment for so long, he wasn’t going to hold back anymore.

When his mouth returned to yours, you followed his lead. Tongues were dancing intricately and intensely with each other. Heavy breathing would waft in brief periods when either if you needed a second to catch your breath, so the other would find something else to do with their mouth.

His hands are tight on your hips, fingers trailing up and down under your shirt, leaving the slightest of red marks from the pressure. It took everything in you to ignore the glaring pain that burned in your ribs, the feeling of fire ripping from both sides made your breath stop. Your head lifts a little, slowing down your passionate kiss, but Noah raises his head with yours, although as to make the moment linger for just a while longer.

You hated to do it, but there was no choice. The already existing bruises and injuries, paired with the lack of oxygen from not breathing properly was enough to make you lightheaded. You would have doubled over if you hadn’t already been laying horizontally.

You pull away, shifting so your hands are in fists on either side of Noah, bundled up and pressed into the thick fabric of the lounge. Eyes are tightly squeezed shut to focus on controlling your breaths.

Noah watches as a panic starts to rise.

“Are you okay? Did I hurt you? I’m so sorry I didn’t mean to-“

“Noah, shut up.” You bark. His rambling makes it harder to will yourself to sit upright.

You push yourself back, now kneeling back in your legs, perched on Noah’s lap. Brushing your hair from your face, it takes a moment to steady yourself, but after twenty seconds, your eyes open. The pain is starting to subside.

Noah looks like he was in trouble. He held his hands up in surrender beneath you. Eyes blown wide as he took in the sight of you sitting precariously close to a certain something he had no control over in his pants.

He begins to shift beneath you, pulling himself up onto his elbows, eyeing you warily.

“Was that too much?” He questions.

One of your hands goes to rub the side of your face, eyes droop closed. You nod in response to him.

“It just hurt a little.”

You hadn’t noticed the tear that slipped out until it rolled down your cheek and fell onto Noah’s white shirt. His hand rubs up and down your arm to comfort you. With another shaky exhale, you open your eyes. Noah is being careful, despite his own desires at the moment, he looks at you as if to find the answer to what you need in your eyes.

“Thank you,” you finally say.

“For comforting you, or for kissing you?”

“…is it too weird to say both?” You both chuckle at the awkward remark. “I guess making out while you have injuries from a car accident isn’t the best way to have your first kiss together.”

Your legs slip off Noah, standing slowly and straightening out the clothes which had become so very twisted in the moments before. Noah sits up too, tugging at the sweatpants so they sit better, before reaching for a pillow, placing it gently on his lap.

You raise an eyebrow at him, before letting out a gutsy laugh. His eyes widen and looks to be shy all of a sudden.

“What?! I’m trying not to ruin the moment!” He states, but you can’t respond, still laughing at the innocence contrasted with the reason.

“Look, there’s other ways to get rid of it” he murmurs beneath his breath, teasingly, yet cautiously. His eyes are on you, wondering if the lewd joke had pushed the boundaries.

There was no denying the fire of lust burning in you, the way he made you feel made you weak at the knees.

“If it weren’t for these injuries, I’m sure we’d be finding out what those ways are.”

The somewhat directness from you caught him a little off guard, and it turned him on even more. He had to shift in his heat and readjust the pillow just to make his arousal a little less obvious.

You couldn’t help but giggle at his flustered state, and the way he looked away from you when you turned to see his reaction. He even raised his hand, biting down on a finger in an attempt to distract himself.

You laugh again, knowing full well nothing else could happen. These injuries were cockblocking you to the extreme. As inviting and tempting as he was, the pain wasn’t worth it. He knew it too.

After the moment had passed, Noah shifted again, moving the pillow so it sat by his side. He padded it, and you lay down, placing your head on the pillow. His fingers start to tangle with your hair, pulling and twirling the loose threads that were strewn across your face.

The low murmur from the TV was enough of a lullaby, paired with Noah’s careful caressing, that you drifted off to sleep soon enough. Noah stayed awake for a little while longer though. He watched the way your eyes fluttered behind their kids. The way your face would twitch or twist as your dreams u folded before you. He also noticed the way your body relaxed when he gently placed a hand on your side, thumb rubbing careful circles to sooth you.

Just as he was about to fall into a slumber, we was on the brink of a dream state himself, when you utter his name. A loving smile graced your face, and it made Noah’s heart swell tenfold. He knew, after this moment, he would do anything in his power to keep you.

Part 5

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whatitsdecending · 1 year ago

Text

Chokehold

Vessel x Reader x Noah Sebastian

Something you never expected to find yourself in was a threesome between a man you were casually having sex with and someone you’d never met before.

A/N: if people like this I have ideas to continue it, so do let me know;)

Word Count: 3.7k

Content warning: voyeurism, threesomes, domination, exhibitionism

—————————

The day had gone by slowly, another festival built-up in the middle of nowhere housing thousands of people that attended. It was hot, hotter than normal for this time of year. At least you think it was, you weren’t exactly from Virginia and this climate was a little different from what you were used to.

You did your best to ignore the blistering heat beating down on you from the sun as you worked on unpacking the stage equipment for the band you were a roadie for; Bad Omens, a group of four guys who make some of the best damn music you’ve heard in a long time.

You enjoyed your job, being able to travel around and get exposed to new music or the same stuff you’ve loved for years. There were times where it made you debate whether it was the right fit for you or not, but usually those rough patches turned into the best thing you could ever imagine.

The band quickly befriended you, as they did with the other roadies, but one member was particularly fond of you. Noah Sebastian, the lead singer of the band. He had the voice of a siren and the presence of a lion on stage, but behind the scenes it was a much different story. Behind that stage presence was the kindest man you know, a man who’s been taking care of you, mentally and physically.

It wasn’t anything serious between the two of you, just quick hookups here and there that took care of any built up tension you had. He was good at it and has learned every little thing that makes you squirm beneath his touch, he had your body mapped out in his mind by the second hookup. Watching him on stage always did something to you, the small heat built up in your stomach and a blush rising to your cheeks every time he’d sneak a glance over to you on the side of the stage.

You weren’t sure if anyone had caught on yet, you’d nervously laugh when someone made a joke about you and Noah but it’d always end there, never going further than just a joke to them. And that’s exactly how you want it to stay.

“Working hard or hardly working?” The voice you’d come to be absolutely enthralled with broke through your thoughts. He towered over you, blocking the sun that had been shining down on you for a while and casting his shadow over you.

“I’ve been working hard for too long, actually.” You respond with a sarcastic smile, grabbing the next box to bring over to the techs. He trailed after you and said a quick hello to the techs getting Jolly’s gear prepped early.

“You got time to sneak away for a bit?” Noah whispered as you walked back towards the trailer that held all the equipment. Your heart skipped a beat at his words, it’s been a while since you and Noah were able to sneak away from everyone, and you had to admit you were due for alone time with him.

“I think I’ve done enough, not much left to unload anyways.” You say, motioning to the much smaller load of equipment left in the trailer than what had been there two hours ago.

“Perfect.” A smile tugged at his lips as turned around and walked towards the building that had the dressing rooms set up inside. The chill of the AC on full blast sent a shiver through your body, goosebumps rising on your skin as you entered the building. You followed Noah through the building, admiring the different band names plastered on different doors or on a makeshift tent in the building. You hoped he wasn’t taking you to a random tent that looked like it would fall over in two seconds.

The breath of relief that left your body when Noah stopped outside a door with the band’s name on it, right at the end of the hallway and was in a bit more of a private area than the rest of the rooms. He slowly opened the door, taking a quick peek inside and then motioning for you to come in.

The room was empty besides two couches and a mirror on the wall set-up as a makeup station for performers. It wasn’t that large of a room, just enough to fit the necessities for a dressing room. But it would do.

“Not that bad compared to other dressing rooms you’ve had.” You broke the silence, leaving Noah to snort in response. “Now we gotta make this pretty quick, I got in trouble last time we snuck around.”

“You know I can get you out of any trouble with the crew, right?” Noah’s voice was low as he came up to you, resting his hands on your hips.

“I’m aware, but I don’t want you to keep pulling favors out of your ass for me.” You say as his face lowered down to place gentle kisses along the exposed skin of your collarbone.

“I don’t mind,” he says between kisses. “Besides, it lets me take care of you for longer.” His hands slowly glide up along the curves of your waist, gently moving your shirt up and exposing your skin. His touch warmed your now freezing body, the sweat from before now dried and left you to shiver in the cold of the room. “You’re so damn beautiful.” He muttered softly as he kissed up your neck, trailing slowly to your lips.

Noah’s lips made contact with yours with a soft intent, not wanting to push you into anything too aggressive right away. He knew what worked best for you and letting it build was the way to make you as aroused as possible. He slowly turned you to now face the opposite direction, assuming he was going to use that to push you into the wall.

He slowly parted away from your lips, smirking as you whined about the loss of contact. His eyes sparkled as you stared up at him, wondering what exactly was going on in that beautiful mind of his.

“Have you ever met my friend Vessel before?” Noah’s voice was low as he nodded beyond your shoulder, causing you to take a glance at the man who had been standing behind you. Vessel, you knew he was the singer from Sleep Token, yet the man who stood behind you was not the man you would’ve recognized to be Vessel.

He stood leaning against the wall, his arms crossed against his bare chest. You didn’t recognize him at first because he was out of character, no mask, hood or black paint to disguise himself from your eyes. He was breathtakingly beautiful, someone you certainly didn’t expect to see at this time.

“Keep going darling, I’m just here to observe.” His voice was deep and thick with the British accent everyone knew he had, but had never heard it before. The way he spoke caused you to turn back around to face Noah, who has taken the opportunity to push his lips back against yours. The small fire that burned deep within you had suddenly turned ablaze, the idea of Vessel just watching as Noah dominated your mouth with his.

You could feel yourself grow increasingly wet as Noah’s hands rested on your hips, pulling them closer to his body until you were pressed up against him. The feeling of his hardened cock pushing against your abdomen through his sweats almost made you drop right then and there, but something made you stop.

His hands started on the small of your back, slowly feeling their way along the curves of your body. The feeling of his breath dancing across your skin made you shiver, his hand moved your hair away from your neck and he began to lay gentle kisses along the nape of your neck.

A small moan escaped from your lips as Noah began to leave the same small kisses along the other side of your neck. Vessel’s hand found its way to rest just underneath your breasts, using that leverage to push his body against yours.

There you stood, pressed between these men who will soon have all the access they want to your body. A small uncertainty crept through your mind despite how desperate you came out to be for the two of them. This small uncertainty made you squeeze Noah’s arm softly, indicating you needed him to stop for a moment.

“Everything okay?” He asked softly, his eyes filled with slight worry. You felt Vessel pull back and take a small step away from you, no longer keeping you pinned against the two of them.

“I’m fine.. it’s just-” you stared at Noah’s hand resting on your hip. “What exactly are you two thinking of doing with me? Is there something new I should prepare for that you and I never do together?”

Noah glanced at Vessel, then back to you. “I genuinely thought it’d be a little more fun with another person joining us, I realize now I definitely should’ve asked you beforehand.”

“I can leave now if you’d like, Y/N. No worries darling.” Vessel spoke, placing a kiss on the back of your head. Before he could get out of your reach you swiftly turned around and grabbed his hand, pulling him back to you and pressing your lips against his. “Your mind seems to change very quickly.” He muttered into your lips, tangling his fingers into your hair and pressing your lips against his once again.

“Well, I guess I’ll just take a seat. Y/N, show Vessel what makes you so addicting.” Noah’s voice trailed away as he sat down on one of the couches. A small moan rumbled from deep in you, vibrating against Vessel’s lips.

“I like to be in control love, I hope you don’t mind.” His voice was a gentle whisper as he pushed your bangs behind your ear. His fingers brushing against your skin allowed goosebumps to surface and sent a shiver down your spine.

“That’s just what I like.” Was all you mustered before Vessel had his hands on the underside of your thighs and lifted you up. Your legs instinctively wrapped tightly around his waist as he carried you to the counter, the clanging of items falling to the floor as he swiped his arm to clear space for you.

He placed you on the counter, pressing his body into your core so your legs stayed apart. His lips attacked your neck like a hungry animal, nipping around every once in a while eager to leave his mark on you.

You glanced over to where Noah sat, his eyes were fixated on the performance in front of him. You could tell how turned on he was by the obvious outline of his cock against the material of his pants. As you stared, you waited for his eyes to connect with yours, that thought alone made you even more wet.

“God I need these off.” Vessel groaned, snapping your attention back to him as he pulled at your shorts. You lifted yourself up a little to allow him to pull the shorts off your body. He kept himself sat on his knees after taking them off, glancing at you with eyes that almost seemed to be begging you to let him fuck you like a toy. His hands slowly roamed around your legs, traveling upwards to your center. The anticipation made your heart race more and more every inch.

His lips pressed gently against the inside of your thigh as he kept his eyes on yours. The way he looked at you as if you were his prey and he’d finally caught you, planning his next move with every waking moment of time that passed by. He wanted you, he was desperate for you.

His fingers trailed along the fabric of your panties, toying with the edge of the material against your skin. You hissed every time his fingers dipped underneath them and brushed against your slick, receiving a low chuckle from him each time.

“You desperate girl, how long has it been since Noah has touched you?” His fingers traced along the inside of your thigh, teasing you once again.

“A week?” The answer escaped as a moan when the cool breeze of the AC hit your wet core and Vessel’s thumb pressed against your clit. “Oh my fucking god..” He deepened the pressure and started slowly moving his thumb in circles, the low wave of pleasure hitting your body. He noticed how your body moved underneath his touch, making sure to memorize every touch that made you squirm.

His large hands wrapped underneath your thighs and gripped them tightly, pulling you closer to his face. His breath moved gently against your slick skin as he drew closer to closing the space between your bodies. His large eyes were fixated on your face, watching every expression that came across it as his lips made contact.

“Doesn’t she just taste wonderful?” Noah’s voice broke through the sounds of your moaning, bringing your attention to him. It didn’t last long before Vessel vibrated his response directly onto your clit, his head nodding to add to the sensation. You moaned loudly and it echoed around the room, Vessel’s way of eating you out was so much different than how Noah did it. This new method being used on you was driving you insane, Noah was a bit more gentle and slow with you, only picking up his pace when you begged for it. But Vessel? It was more animalistic how he ate you, his tongue and lips coordinated well together to stimulate your clit and send you into overdrive.

“Holy fuck, Vessel.” You groaned, the familiar pit building in your abdomen. “I’m going to c-“ He moved his face away from your core right as you said that, a whine escaping from you. “What was that for?”

He smirked at you and wiped his face. “Just warming you up darling.” He glanced over his shoulder at Noah, getting a nod of approval from him. There must’ve been some kind of agreement between the two of them for all this, something that definitely took a little bit of planning by the way they’ve become so coordinated through this experience.

“Turn around for him baby, keep your eyes focused on me in that mirror.” Noah says in a demanding tone. You followed exactly what he said, your eyes never leaving him in the reflection of the mirror. Vessel’s hand pressed on the middle of your back, pushing you forward so you were now bent over the counter. The feeling of his tip sliding between your folds and through your slick made you place your hand against the mirror.

“You should probably keep your hand there darling,” Vessel says as his cock pushes into you. “Wouldn’t want you to go against Noah’s wishes.” The feeling of him stretching your walls was intense, his cock was similar to Noah’s but had a bit more girth to it. “Fuck you’re so tight.” He grunts as he begins to thrust slowly, the movement leaving your jaw slack and tears forming in your eyes.

“God you look so beautiful like that baby, taking Vessel’s cock like the good girl that you are.” Noah spoke as he watched your facial expressions through the mirror. His hand hesitated around the outline of his cock, seeming to want to relieve himself as Vessel pleases you. But he never ends up touching himself.

Vessel’s hands gripped tightly on your hips as he picked up the pace of his thrusts. He wasn’t wrong about needing to keep your hand on the mirror, it really helped you to keep the focus on Noah while he pounds you from behind. The room was filled with the sound of skin slapping together, the cry of moans coming from you and Vessel was harmonious in a way and a beautiful sound to your ears.

The pit was forming again and you wondered if he was going to let you cum this time around. “Vessel you gonna let me cum now?” You breathlessly ask, hoping he’d start thrusting even harder into you to send you over the edge.

But he had something else in mind.

He stopped thrusting into you and wrapped his long arms around your waist, picking you up and carrying you over to the couch. Noah was now standing, his eyes entranced on the sight of you in the grasps of another man. Vessel laid back against the couch holding you tight on his chest with one hand while the other moved to put his cock back in you. This new position allowed for him to reach your g-spot, the pleasurable ache that ran through you each time his cock hit it was enough to make your body squirm.

“I cannot resist myself anymore, Y/N. You’re too damn addicting.” Noah says kneeling down onto the floor, his face only inches away from your pulsing core. “I just… can’t keep watching…” He planted kisses around your clit between his words, your hips buck at every touch his lips left. “Vessel treating you good baby?” You nodded. “Are you desperate for my touch now?” A whine escaped your lips as you nodded again. He chuckled, knowing if he had the control left he’d sit and watch you beg for him, but at this point he needed to taste you.

His lips pressed onto your clit, parting to let his tongue roam around the bud. It was so sensitive from the stimulation happening below, that Noah adding his tongue to the mix made you feel insane. “Oh my fucking god!” You cried out, gripping Vessel’s arm that he kept wrapped around you. “I’m going to cum guys, I can’t-“

“Hold out a little longer darling, let's cum together.” Vessel whispered in your ear, his thrusts hitting you at a quicker pace than he’d been doing.

“I can’t, fuck!” Your hand found Noah’s hair and gripped tightly.

“Yes, you can.” Vessel’s voice was becoming breathy as he drew closer to his release. “All the pent up orgasms from before, you’ll be able to let them go now, let it go darling.” His permission granted you to finally let go what you’ve been needing, the waves of pleasure practically blinding you. You moaned loudly as your legs shook like mad, this was an orgasm you’ve never experienced before. The warm feeling of Vessel’s cum filling you as your orgasm hit its peak was a kind of sensation you’d never had, but certainly one you’d want again.

As you came down from your high you opened your eyes to see Noah staring at the two of you, a look of admiration in his eyes. “You did so good, baby.” He placed a gentle kiss on your inner thigh, pushing himself off the couch to grab a towel. Vessel lifted you off his lap and set you down on the couch, taking in the mess he made.

“You alright, darling?” He chuckled lightly. “A lot just happened all at once huh?”

“I think I need a nap.” You managed to muster out, watching Noah as he came back with the towel he’d dampened with a bottle of water. He gently cleaned up the mess between your legs left by Vessel, letting the cool towel relax the intense sensation leftover.

“I’d love to stick around for that, but my band is probably wondering where I’ve wandered off to.” Vessel said as he put his clothes back on, a smirk creeping on his face. “Hopefully your nap doesn’t last too long, I’d love to see you side stage for my set later.”

“Oh I’ll definitely be there, just let me rest my legs.” You sighed as you were still trying to process everything.

“Right.” Vessel leaned down and kissed your forehead. “Get some rest darling.” You watched as he exited the room, Noah closing the door behind him. He searched around for your underwear and shorts, eventually finding them and helping you get dressed.

“You don’t have to help me, you never put my clothes back on.” You say as he finishes buttoning your shorts back up.

“I know, I just felt like I needed to give you a hand after all that.” He smiled. “Thank you for agreeing to it, that’s something I kind of always wanted.”

“Really? You like to watch other men fuck your own fuck buddy?” You placed your hand in your back pocket, feeling a piece of paper that wasn’t there before. You already knew who left it so you decided to keep it there until you were alone.

“You can say that I guess.” Noah chuckled. “Well, I gotta go start warming up. Are you gonna take a nap here or on the bus?”

“Mm, probably here I am a little exhausted from that. Plus my hips hurt.” You laid back on the couch, feeling the warmth leftover from Vessel’s body laying there beforehand.

“Okay, I’ll see you later to catch Sleep Token’s set. Have a good nap.” He began to leave but stopped in his tracks. “I’ll just let the crew know you’ve got a migraine from the heat and that’s why you’re not helping for the show.” You gave him a thumbs up and he returned the gesture. He left the room, the sound of his footsteps echoing down the hallway as he walked away. You reached into your pocket for the piece of paper, unfolding it quickly as curiosity racked your mind.

Vessel left you his phone number and a small note that read:

Darling, please give me a call whenever you get the chance. Would love to have a one on one with you sometime, call me and we’ll make arrangements for that.

XOXO, Ves

The idea of being with just Vessel made your heart race in excitement. You quickly added him to your list of contacts, waiting to call him later since he was busy now. You wonder what Noah would think about this, if he’d get jealous or not care that you would hook up with Vessel again without him there.

Whatever he’d think, you couldn’t care less. It was just absent minded fucking, right?

#noah sebastian #vessel #bad omens #sleep token #noah sebastian fic #vessel fic

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glamorous-egoist · 3 days ago

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Hi, hello I’m back, no recap on episode 10 as I was out of town (Toronto was lovely btw), but hey we can recap episode 11!

And I hate cliffhangers…

So we can start with the fallout of the big reveal, it wasn’t a red herring and Langdon was abusing meds, honestly I’m glad it wasn’t a red herring, but based on how this episode ended, it sucks we’re down a doctor. I also liked Langdon a lot and I liked him with Mel, I truly feel for her, because that was her mentor, though her and Mohan are a great team too - I’d like to see more of them.

Though the signs were all there looking back at it… which then having Robby deal with Mohan’s drug seeker in the fall out? Diabolical. Also can I just say watching Robby deal with Langdon was such a callback to ER, so that was great.

Speaking of ER, the delivery Robby and Collins did, a call back to S1 E19 of ER, but with a much happier ending. Collins is a trooper, and I’m glad Robby cut her loose she’s done enough. Collins and Robby’s exchange in the ambulance, honestly Noah’s acting? Spectacular, everything he felt just came through in his face. The subtext as well? Great, I thought that was brilliant. Honestly the whole scene top to bottom so well acted. And just ugh their whole relationship, I want more?

Heading back to the delivery Mel was brilliant, and her excitement to the hold the baby was very sweet. Also her saying “I see hair!” With the pause followed by saying “baby’s hair” honestly the funniest thing. Mel is my favorite and she’s great, I really want so much more of her. I on the other hand? Hated the entire birth, but I’m also freaked out by birth in general so that was hard for me. Especially the bleed out, I just about curled into my own skin. I love that this show shows everything but sometimes I am squeamish (read very squeamish).

Santos was spiraling, she did the right thing but at what cost? Also the fact she’s Filipina and caught the nurses gossiping? Hilarious. I still am not her fan, but I have to give her props for doing the right thing. The exchange with Garcia though? Ugh. Just ugh. I don’t know why but Garcia being so into her is kind of weird? I can’t quite put my finger on it. Normally I’m cheering this on, but I just find it weird? I have to say Santos’ actress is amazing, and I love her for making me dislike Santos so much.

Now the elephant in the room, the big mass causality incident we all knew was coming from episode 1, here we are. 1) Robby taking Jake’s call? I kind of straightened up my back because oh my god I thought we were going to see it, but no they chose to drag it out. 2) the sirens as Dana got the alert what a way to go about it, again Noah’s facial acting? Ugh I love that old man so much! I’m so mad it’s a cliffhanger but I’m so ready for this one because it was coming, the entire episode felt like a rubber band tightening and ready to pop. Robby is getting hit left and right, honestly if Noah’s characters aren’t having the worst day of their lives is it even Noah?

Finally some quick hits:

McKay is a better person than I am, her ex’s new girlfriend in the bonus mom shirt? The villain of the entire series, also ew.

Dana! Oh my god Dana you can’t leave us we need you! She’s not wrong but ugh I can’t I love her so much…

Whitaker and Mohan, ugh girl I keep rooting for you, stop pissing off the old man. Also Whitaker my awkward bub, I just love him, he’s doing his absolute best!

(If I missed anything I’m sorry, I watched both episodes back to back, so I don’t want to mix anything up)

Anyway see you next week?

#the pitt #the pitt 2025 #the pitt hbo

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nerdraging4point0 · 9 months ago

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Scorpion and the Scales // Chapter Sixteen // MIW/Bad Omens PolyAU

Tropes and Tags: why choose romance, MF, MFM, MFMM, MM, instalove, too much sex, tattooed musicians, polyverse, friends to lovers.

Content warning: 18+ only minors DNI. PinV, PinA, oral (f!recieveing, m!recieving), threesomes, light BDSM, voyeurism, exhibitionism, partner sharing, jealousy, angst.

This work below is fictionalized ideas and stories involving real people but does not directly reflect their thoughts, feelings, or behaviors. Please keep in mind that this is a work of fiction.

Taglist(click to be added): @ladyveronikawrites @synthetic-wasp-570 @beaker1636 @thesazzb @itsjustemily @vinyardmauro @circle-with-me @tearfallpixie @poisongirl616 @shilohrosechicken @th0ughts-pr4yers @meliferafaerie @letmeadoreyoux @latenightmusiclover @transparentwitchnightmare @cookiesupplier @concreteemo @emofangirl02 @rumoured-whispers @somebodyels3 @jakeygvf21 @lma1986 @cncohshit

Chris’s POV

The energy in Las Vegas has been nothing short of exceptional for the band. The dry desert heat beating down on the stage didn't even bother us- we were too caught up in the thrill of the performance to notice. My makeup is smeared and sweat is pooling under my hat but I don’t care. I am living for this moment on stage we are thriving. Vin has never been more excited to play a festival in his life, Justin and Ryan have been goofing it up since we arrived.

And there is Rick. Rick appears happier than ever before, and it's not hard to see why - Eve has been watching the performance from stage left, and the two have been stealing flirtatious glances at each other all afternoon. Out of the corner of my eye, I see him turn to the side of the stage, strumming his guitar with a playful smile on his face, the pure bliss of being in love radiating from every inch of his being.

As the crowd erupts in thunderous applause, and our music dies out, I can't help but notice the shift in Eve's demeanor. Just moments ago, her eyes were alight with a joyous glow, a telltale sign of the blossoming love she's been trying to conceal. But now, as the opening bars of "The Death of Peace of Mind" begin to reverberate through the speakers, her expression falls, the light in her eyes dimming. It's clear this unexpected turn of events has us all unsettled, myself included. I pause to take a sip of water, using the brief respite to gather my thoughts. We had anticipated this performance to be a triumphant homecoming, a chance to reconnect with our loyal fans, but the absence of one key individual has cast a palpable shadow over the celebration.

Noah has been conspicuously absent, despite knowing full well that we would be playing at this very festival. I've tried reaching out, sending text after text, even placing a few desperate calls, all to no avail. The deafening silence on his end is as puzzling as it is heartbreaking. As I glance back towards Eve, I can see the pain etched across her features, a mirror of my own internal turmoil.

As I stood on the stage, the familiar energy of my own band's set pulsing through the crowd, a part of me couldn't help but feel a sense of longing. I missed what we all had, to be honest I missed him. Though the roar of the audience and the thrill of performing my own songs filled me with a rush, my eyes would inevitably drift towards the nearby Bad Omens stage, where Noah’s towering form commands the attention of the masses. His guttural, primal howls seemed to reverberate across the festival grounds, a siren's call that tugged at my heart. I couldn't be certain, but for the briefest of moments, I swore I saw his gaze flicker in my direction

In the midst of the pulsing energy and raw power of the music, I call out to the crowd with a passionate outcry, "I need you to get loud on this one, Vegas." As the riffs of the guitar and the steady rhythm of the drums slow to a low, steady beat, it creates the perfect backdrop for my voice to carry over the roar of the audience. "I need all these motherfuckers performing here to hear you," I declare, my voice dripping with intensity.

Pausing for a moment, I take a deep breath and brace myself, mentally preparing to pour every ounce of my being into the next lines. Leaning in close to the microphone, I begin to sing with an impassioned, deliberate delivery, my voice belting out the verse with a raw, gritty power. This is no mere performance - it's a calculated move, a strategic ploy to ensure that he hears me, to make certain that the message reaches its intended target. "You know the dead can't hear you, the holy well is dry," I growl, placing my foot up on the podium as I lean over the crowd, my eyes scanning the sea of faces before me. "So when you face the truth..."

"OPEN YOUR FUCKING EYES!" The crowd responds with a deafening chorus, their voices joining mine in a powerful, primal scream. I can see some of the heads from the back of the Bad Omens crowd turn to face us, drawn in by the sheer force of our collective outcry. There, in the distance, I spot him - breathing heavily through the hole in his ski mask, his eyes boring into my side of the stage. That’s right baby, do I have your attention now?

***

I could care less about formality or privacy or what you might consider personal information. Vinny has the hook ups though, he’d messaged the band's manager and got the details on which hotel they were put up in, it was easy from there to ask reception which room. She’d been trained to keep it hush hush from the fans, but when I expressed I was in one of the other bands and showed her my festival pass she let me up to his room.

I approached the door, my fist clenched with determination as I brought it down forcefully against the solid wooden surface, the sound of my knocks reverberating through the hallway. I was certain that the occupant of the neighboring room had heard the commotion, their curiosity likely piqued by the sudden disturbance. Moments later, the door to the adjacent room swung open, and out stepped Noah, accompanied by his bandmate. I had expected to find him in a state of anger, his brow furrowed and his expression laced with frustration, but instead, his face remained stoic and unreadable.

"Chris?" Noah said, his voice low and cautious. "What are you doing knocking on my door?" he asked, clearly caught off guard by the unexpected presence in his hotel room.

"Expecting you to be inside - duh." Noah paused, taking a deep breath as he turned to his bandmate, giving him a reassuring pat on the shoulder before shifting his attention back to me. Rather than lashing out, Noah simply brushed past me, his shoulder grazing my chest as he moved to unlock his hotel room door.

As I trailed behind him through the dimly lit hotel room, I was captivated by his scent, intoxicating and familiar, wafting through the air and enveloping me. I breathed him in deeply, savoring every molecule, desperate to commit this precious aroma to memory, knowing that this fleeting moment may be the last time I would have the chance to experience it. The mingling of his cologne, the faint trace of soap from his recent shower, and the underlying musk that was uniquely him - it was a heady, sensual combination that I wanted to sear into my mind, to have and hold even when he was no longer within my reach.

Noah leaned back against the door, his foot propped up on the wall as he casually tucked his hands into the pockets of his worn, comfortable hoodie. With a weary sigh, he let his head fall back, the back of his skull gently thudding against the solid surface behind him. His expression was a mix of exasperation and resignation, bracing himself for the confrontation to come.

"What do you want, Chris?" he asked, his tone laced with an edge of sarcasm.

"You haven't been returning my calls or texts - I want to know where the hell you've been and what the fuck is going on with you." My voice was laced with a mix of frustration and genuine concern, making it clear this wasn't just about unanswered messages. “Where the fuck do you get off, Sebastian?”

Noah's lips twitched with the hint of a sardonic smile, his eyes glinting with a mischievous spark as he delivered his flippant retort. "Recently? The bathroom."

The quip was clearly meant to rile me up, to throw me off balance with his trademark brand of sassy, irreverent humor. But despite the provocation, I refused to rise to the bait, hardening my expression as I looked at Noah with an unyielding stare, silently demanding a serious, honest answer.

He drops his foot, letting out an exasperated sigh, and I can tell he is trying to walk away from the conversation. The fuck he is. I'm not about to let him disengage that easily. I take one long stride across the room, hands splayed across the wall on either side of his smug, infuriating face, stepping into his personal space until our eyes are immediately locked on one another.

"You don't get it, do you?" I can feel the burn of anger rising in my throat, a tell-tale sign that the tears are coming, though I'll readily admit that I'm an angry crier. “You hurt us, leaving us like you did. How could you, Noah?”

My eyes dropped to his lips as his tongue darted out, wetting his lips in a way that sent a shiver down my spine. I could almost feel the warmth of his mouth on mine again, the memory still lingering.

"She has Rick now," he said flatly, the words landing like a punch to the gut. I pushed off the wall, pacing the room as my hands flew into my hair in frustration.

"Fuck, you are such a pain," I spat, the anger and desire warring within me. But even as the words left my mouth, I knew the truth - the messy, complicated truth. "Yes, she wants Rick. But she wants you too. She wants him, she wants me, she wants you," I rambled, spinning to look him directly in the eyes. The admission felt like a weight lifted, but also a new burden to bear. "Fuck, man, I want you," I confessed, the words tumbling out before I could stop them.

I see his expression go blank; he remained rooted in place, unmoving, as if frozen in time. "You what?" The trembling words escaped his lips in a low, barely audible whisper, the vulnerability in his voice obvious.

I take slow, measured steps towards him, approaching cautiously as one might a skittish deer in the forest, lest any sudden movements cause him to bolt. When I finally reached him, I gingerly cupped his face in my hands, cradling his cheeks tenderly as I pressed our foreheads together, our eyes locked in an intense, searching gaze. "What? Did I stutter, baby?" I murmured, my voice soft but firm.

As our faces draw closer, I can feel the nervous tension building, the uncertainty of whether he'll pull away or if I'll finally get the chance I've been longing for. Our lips barely graze one another, a featherlight touch that sends tingles down my spine. In that moment, I'm sure he'll recoil, reject my advances and end this delicate dance before it's even begun. But to my surprise and delight, he doesn't shy away. Instead, our lips meet in a soft, tender kiss - a first for us without the buffer of Eve's presence. It's a new experience, uncharted territory, and I find myself hesitating, unsure of how to proceed. But then, as he begins to kiss me back, all my inhibitions melt away. Our lips start to move with more purpose, pressing and devouring, tasting and exploring. I can't hold back any longer, and I push my mouth against his, desperate to part his lips with mine. Finally, I succeed, and I seize the opportunity to delve my tongue into the warm, wet cavern of his mouth, praying he won't clamp down and end this blissful moment.

His strong hands gripped my waist, guiding our movements as he pushed me forward, spinning us both around until I was the one pinned against the wall. A guttural growl escaped my lips as I pushed back against him, the force of the movement causing him to become the one trapped, my hips grinding against his in a sensual rhythm. The last time I kissed a guy like this our piercings kept getting tangled with one another's and it was awkward and took away from the moment, now, all I wanted was to get lost in it. With a pop of our lips, I let our mouths fall apart, my thumbs tracing the line of his chin as we both panted, desperate for air.

The silence was deafening, a tense anticipation building as I waited with bated breath. "Tell me to leave," I pleaded, my own voice barely above a whisper. "Tell me you don't miss us, all of us, and I'll go right now." But he remained silent, his hot, minty breath falling over my lips and igniting a renewed desire within. My hands tangled in his soft, unruly hair, gaining a firm grip on the strands as I tilted his head back, exposing the intricate tattoos that adorned his neck. Unable to resist, I placed a delicate kiss on the ink, before closing my lips around the tender flesh, sucking and nipping at the forbidden fruit.

My fingers trail down his firm, muscular torso, the soft fabric of his hoodie bunching up as I explore the contours of his body. My touch is light, teasing, as I search his eyes for any sign of hesitation or reluctance. But his gaze remains steady, unwavering, a challenge in his dark, hooded eyes. This man is going to crumble before me, I can feel it. I want him to bend, to yield to my advances. With a decisive tug, I pull at the elastic waistband of his shorts, dragging them down his strong thighs. I watch, transfixed, as his hardened length springs free, thick and throbbing. Yet still, he makes no move to stop me, no attempt to resist. The power I hold over him at this moment is intoxicating.

The anticipation builds as I drink in the sight of him, exposed and vulnerable, waiting with bated breath for me to make my next move. I locked eyes with him, seeing the unmistakable glint of arrogance and expectation. He thought he had the upper hand, that I would simply submit to his demands without a fight. But I wasn't about to play by his rules - not this time. I felt a surge of defiance as I rolled my lower jaw, building up a thick wad of saliva that I then quickly spat into the palm of my hand. In one swift motion, I reached down and grasped the head of his throbbing cock, wrapping my fingers tightly around it and beginning to stroke up and down with a relentless, punishing rhythm. I could see the surprise and then pleasure flickering across his face as I took control, my grip firm and my movements unforgiving. This was my game now, and I was going to make him work for every last ounce of satisfaction.

I ran my hand up and down his shaft with quick, determined strokes, watching intently as his head fell back and his body went slack, surrendering to the sensations. The ragged, shuddering breaths escaping his lips and the pulsing throb of his arousal in my palm only fueled my own growing hunger. I was relentless, keeping him perpetually on the edge of release, denying him that final sweet relief. He was mine in this moment, completely at my mercy, and I reveled in the power I held over him. Just when I sensed he was nearing his limit, I abruptly withdrew my hand, instead cradling his face tenderly between my palms. His eyes flew open, lips trembling as he struggled to find the words, desperate and needy. "What's the matter, puppy?" I purred, my tone dripping with feigned innocence. "You want something?"

Noah’s POV

This was the last thing I ever expected, yet I stubbornly held myself steady, refusing to let the shock and disbelief show. I had been so certain, so sure of my feelings for Eve - a love that had never wavered or faded, no matter how much time passed. Stupidly, I had let myself get worked up, consumed by the irrational fear that she would eventually leave me. So, in a knee-jerk reaction, I did what I always do best - I left before I could be left behind. I knew it would shatter Eve's heart and at the very least deeply upset my friend Chris, with whom I had repeatedly lamented my own self-destructive behaviors. But never, not once in all of those one-sided conversations, had I even considered the possibility that Chris harbored feelings of his own for me. That revelation hit me like a ton of bricks.

Now, here I stood wanting to desperately feel his hand, his mouth, anything around my already throbbing cock for a release that only he could have given me. But I didn’t deserve it, I didn’t deserve them, they’d shown me nothing but compassion and understanding -a relationship free of judgment. How can someone so melancholy and shattered as myself possibly be so lucky.

Chris's strong hand grips my cheeks, his fingers pressing firmly into the soft flesh as he pulls my lips forward into a pronounced pout. Our faces are mere inches apart, our noses brushing against each other's flushed skin as his hot, ragged breaths caress my parted lips. I can feel the heat radiating off his body, the intensity of his gaze burning into me as he demands in a low, guttural tone, "Tell me what you fucking want, Noah."

I couldn't escape the memories of the bond we once shared - the laughter, the adventures, the unbreakable connection that had felt so natural and right. Now, with them gone, a gaping void had been left in my life that I was struggling to fill. Why had I let them slip away? Why was I continuing to torture myself by dwelling on what we had lost? The regret and sorrow were overwhelming, making it hard to breathe as I was consumed by the intensity of my emotions. I needed them back.

With a shaky breath, I finally let the words tumble out, “You.” My eyes pleaded with Chris to understand just how much I needed him - needed them both. This was my chance, my last hope to mend what had been broken. Please, I silently begged, don't turn me away. I don't think I could bear it.

Chris's grip on the back of my neck was firm and unyielding as he pulled me in, our lips crashing together in a rough, desperate kiss. The intensity of it left me breathless, my heart pounding with anticipation. Just as quickly as it started, he pulled away, his warm breath ghosting across my cheek as he uttered those tantalizing words - "You're gonna need to earn it, puppy." The shiver that ran down my spine was electric, fueling the growing heat within me.

I watched hungrily as Chris stepped back, his movements lithe and graceful as he kicked off his shoes and began tugging his shirt over his head. I mirrored his actions, peeling off my own shorts and hoodie, tossing them aside without a care.

Finally, Chris shed the last of his clothing, stepping forward to close the distance between us. His lips found mine again, the kiss searing and all-consuming. I could taste the faint sweetness on his tongue, like a refreshing berry-flavored sparkling water - intoxicating and addictive.

“You’ve seen the way she sucks my dick, yeah?” his words breathless and rough. I can’t speak, swallowing the lump in my throat I can only nod my head. “Good. Let’s put that pretty mouth to use.”

The air is electric with tension as he pulls me forward, his movements deliberate and commanding. The anticipation builds as he walks backward towards the bed, his eyes locked on mine, daring me to look away. "Why do you get your dick sucked first?" I ask, unable to hide the hint of frustration in my voice. I push my lips onto his, savoring the sweetness of his tongue in my mouth, a taste I've been craving for far too long. "Seems so unfair, I've been without for so long," I murmur against his lips, the words laced with a plaintive note.

His response is firm and unyielding. "Call it punishment," he says, the back of his knees hitting the edge of the bed. "You left us broken, puppy. So, seems only fair, I break you a little." There's an undercurrent of controlled fury in his tone, a righteous anger that sends a shiver down my spine. He brings my face to his as he sits on the bed, dragging me with him, and my legs buckle, sending me to the hotel carpet on my knees. Kneeling before him, head held high, we continue our passionate kiss, his hands tangling in my hair, tugging deliciously at my roots. "You can't just want me, Noah," he breathes, his voice low and intense. "I'm gonna make sure, before we're through, that you need me."

He leans back on his hands as my eyes glance over him, it’s been so long. I was young and reckless, fueled by liquid courage that made my movements sloppy and unrefined. Now, as I move closer, carefully positioning myself between his parted thighs, I feel that same spark reignite. Tentatively, I let my mouth fall open, my tongue just barely peeking past my lips as I begin to lavish his sensitive tip with delicate, kitten-like licks. The familiar taste and texture send shivers down my spine.

As I stare at him I feel a sense of eager anticipation coursing through me. Starting at the very base, I slowly trace my tongue up the length in one long, languid stroke, my taste buds tingling as I savor the familiar flavor. The texture is smooth and firm, yet yielding slightly to the pressure of my questing tongue. I can practically hear Eve's voice in my mind, recounting the techniques she's perfected over countless experiences - the gentle suction, the swirling motions, the focused attention to the sensitive tip. Channeling her expertise, I mimic her actions, eliciting a soft, contented sigh from Chris as he leans back further into the sheets. Encouraged by his response, I take a deep, steadying breath before closing my lips around the tip, enveloping it in the warm, wet cavern of my mouth. I hollow my cheeks, creating gentle suction, and swirl my tongue around the head, savoring the unique flavor and texture.

His strong, calloused hand grips the back of my head, fingers tangling in my hair as he applies gentle pressure, guiding me down onto his throbbing length. "That's it, that's a good boy," he praises in a low, rumbling tone, his words dripping with a mixture of encouragement and dark, primal desire. I open my mouth wider, relaxing my throat to take him in deeper, feeling the rigid heat of his shaft sliding past my lips. He pulls me off briefly, only to push my head back down, demonstrating the rhythm he wants me to follow - a slow, undulating motion that has me hollowing my cheeks to suck him in as far as I can manage. The taste of him is musky and masculine, and the slight sting of stubble against my chin only heightens the sensations. "Let's see if we can make you lose that pretty voice of yours," he growls, his grip tightening ever so slightly as he begins to thrust his hips, fucking my mouth with a steady, relentless pace.

The tension builds in me, an overwhelming sensation coursing through my body as I strain to maintain control. My thighs quiver, muscles clenching tightly in a desperate effort to hold back the inevitable. I'm utterly pathetic, reduced to a quivering mess, and I haven't even been touched. Yet the mere thought of him,, the sound of his gruff voice, the feel of his thick cock sliding into my mouth is enough to push me dangerously close to the edge. I whimper and whine helplessly around his shaft as he thrusts, the animalistic growl of his voice sending shivers down my spine. "Don't you dare fucking cum till I say, puppy," he snarls, the sheer dominance in his tone making me tremble.

He grips my hair tightly, yanking me off his throbbing shaft with a forceful tug. A glistening strand of saliva stretches between his swollen, glistening tip and my open, panting mouth, the salty taste lingering on my tongue. His dominant gaze bores into me as he sneers, "You're going to watch, little prince. You're gonna watch me cum." Wrapping his calloused hand around my own, he guides me to his thick, pulsing erection, pressing my fingers against his heated flesh.

"This is how I want you to touch me," he growls, his hips bucking as I obediently pump my hand up and down in the rhythm he sets, my long digits gliding over his slick, throbbing shaft. With a shudder, he finally releases.

The thick, warm liquid spilled over his skin and onto my waiting hand, the viscous fluid glistening as it dripped down my fingers. I stilled my movements, careful not to let any of it spread or be wasted. My lips parted, the tip of my tongue peeking out as I ached to taste him on my tongue, to savor that salty, musky essence. But he gripped the back of my head firmly, holding me in place as I tried to lean forward.

"No, no, pretty boy," he growled, his voice low and commanding. "Let's be sure you understand what you did wrong." I whimpered, my eyes fixed on his release as it slowly trickled down my long digits. I didn't want to lose a single precious drop, but if he kept me waiting much longer, I might just have to lap it up off the dirty hotel carpet - after all, they say what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas, don't they?

"Say you're sorry," he demanded. "Say you won't leave us again." I apologized profusely, my eyes pleading with him, silently promising that I would never, could never, leave them. They owned me, body and soul, both of them, and I was helpless to resist.

His grip on my hair loosens as he guides my head back down, and I do little to fight, forcing my fingers into my mouth to clean everything, even the spaces in between. I can still taste him, salty and musky, coating my tongue and the inside of my cheeks. Then, my mouth closes around his cock, savoring the familiar sensation as I bob my head, taking him deeper with each movement. I revel in the weight of him on my tongue, the slight twitching as I swirl around the sensitive head. "That's it, puppy," he praises, voice low and rough with desire. "I still need to fuck you, keep going, just like that." His hand tangles in my hair again, holding me in place as he begins to thrust, pushing himself deeper into the wet heat of my mouth. I moan around him, the vibrations adding to his pleasure. This is where I belong - on my knees, serving him.

I can feel the release trickling to the surface again, my lower belly tightening as my thighs shake.

"You want to come, don't you little prince?" Chris murmurs, voice thick with desire. I hum my fervent agreement around him, unwilling to relinquish my grip even for a moment. His fingers tenderly brush through my disheveled hair as our eyes meet, my vision blurred by the tears of exertion pooling in the corners of my eyes. I know I must be a sight to behold - flushed cheeks, wild hair, and bloodshot, watery gaze - I can only think of one other person who looks this fucked out with a dick in her mouth.

As he pulled me off of him, our lips colliding in a passionate embrace, his tongue diving deeply into my mouth, I felt a surge of desire coursing through me. Breathless, we stood together, my shaky legs struggling to support me in the wake of his fervent caresses. Gazing into my eyes with a hunger that made my heart race, he posed the question I'd been anticipating, his voice low and sultry.

"Where's your lube, baby?" In that moment, my mind went momentarily blank, the haze of lust temporarily clouding my thoughts. Had I remembered to pack it? I couldn't quite recall. Stammering slightly, I fought to regain my composure, desperately trying to retrace my steps and remember where I had stashed the essential item. Finally, the fog lifted, and I recalled placing it in the open suitcase just a few feet away, the black zip-up travel bag sitting atop my hastily packed clothes. Relieved, I nodded towards the case, and with a primal growl, Chris released me, allowing me to scramble over and hastily unzip the bag, retrieving the lube and hurrying back to him.

“Lay down, baby.” I ease myself back onto the plush hotel mattress, my long limbs spilling over the edges as I settle into the soft sheets. Without a moment's hesitation, Chris reaches for the small bottle of lubricant, squeezing a generous glob into the palm of his hand. My anticipation builds as I watch him, my throbbing erection straining and aching to be touched. In one swift motion, Chris grasps my sensitive flesh, his slick fingers wrapping firmly around my shaft. He begins pumping up and down in a steady, purposeful rhythm, sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through my body. I can't help but jerk and twitch under his skilled hand, reveling in the sweet, blissful sensations that have been building for what feels like an eternity.

My breath comes in short, ragged gasps as Chris continues his agonizing ministrations, his hand moving painfully slow up and down my trembling form. "Look at you," he purrs darkly in my ear, his hot breath sending shivers down my spine. "Such a mess, and I haven't even fucked you yet." The words send a jolt of electric desire straight to the core of my being, heightening the desperate, needy sensations coursing through me. I can't help the small, whimpering sounds escaping my lips as the pressure builds.

The intense sensations overwhelm me as I lay trembling beneath him, my body betraying the inner turmoil I feel. Involuntary whimpers and whines escape my lips as I squirm helplessly, my hands balling into tight fists at my sides.

"I'm not doing this for my health, baby," he growls, the dark promise in his tone sending a shiver down my spine. "You better come before I change my mind." With a few firm strokes, the tension building within me finally snaps, and I'm spilling over his hand in a intense, shuddering climax. But he refuses to relent, continuing to stroke me through the overwhelming aftershocks until I'm crying out his name, my oversensitive flesh almost too much to bear. I can’t catch my breath until he finally lets go, getting up from his position onto his knees.

He towers over me, his imposing frame casting a shadow as he pushes me over forcefully onto my knees. The mattress cushions my impact as my face is shoved back down, my cheek pressing into the soft fabric. The air is thick with anticipation as I hear the telltale squirt of the lube bottle cap opening. Slick, wet sounds fill the room as he coats himself generously, the viscous liquid glistening. With agonizing slowness, he spreads the lube over my tight, puckered entrance, teasing and caressing the sensitive skin. My lips tremble involuntarily and I can feel saliva pooling in my mouth in response to his touch.

I desperately try to relax, willing myself to allow him in. It's an odd, unfamiliar sensation - a strange fullness that borders on discomfort. But as he takes his time, gradually sinking deeper with each careful thrust, the discomfort gives way to a building sense of pleasure.

A low, guttural groan escapes his lips as he begins to move, pulling back slowly before pushing back in with determined strokes. "Fuck, you're so tight," he growls, the rough timbre of his voice sending shivers down my spine. "All mine." The possessive words ignite a fire within me, driving me wild with need. I can't help but moan wantonly, my body singing with sensation as he claims me over and over.

"You're mine. Fucking say it," he growls, his hips snapping forward with each insistent thrust. I can feel the coiling heat building within, the tightening in my balls signaling my impending release. "I'm yours, baby, yours forever," I gasp out, the words tumbling from my lips like a waterfall breaking free of winter's icy grip.

“I’m yours, I’m Eve’s,” I'm theirs, utterly and completely, and I couldn't bear the thought of living without their touch, their possession. “Fuck, Rick can have me so long as you don’t ever let me go.” The confession falls from my lips as I surrender myself to their carnal desires, my body arching to meet each punishing stroke. I'm so close, teetering on the edge, needing them to push me over into the abyss of ecstasy.

A shiver runs down my spine as his strong, calloused hand wraps around my throat from behind, his fingers pressing firmly against my skin. With a swift, forceful motion, he yanks my head back, exposing the vulnerable column of my neck. I can feel his warm breath tickling the sensitive flesh just behind my ear, his lips grazing the tender spot as he speaks in a low, menacing tone. "Eve can have you, Rick can watch you, but I'm the only man that gets to do this. Do you hear me, puppy?" The words are laced with a possessive, domineering edge that leaves no room for argument. His grip tightens ever-so-slightly, a subtle warning that I am his and his alone. I'm acutely aware of my own quickened pulse, the blood rushing through my veins as adrenaline courses through my body.

I feel his hot, ragged breath on my neck as he presses his forehead against my shoulder, our bodies intertwined and moving together in a frenzied rhythm. "I hear you," I gasp, my words tumbling out in a scattered mess as the sensations overwhelm me. He pushes deeper inside, filling me completely, and a desperate moan escapes my lips. The pressure and pleasure are building, coiling tighter with each thrust. "I'm gonna come," he groans, his voice strained and guttural. I push back against him, craving to feel every inch of his throbbing length, to be consumed by the raw, primal need coursing through us both.

The heat is sweltering, the air thick with the scent of our desire, and I arch my back, silently begging for him to go deeper, harder, until we both unravel in a shattering climax that leaves us trembling and spent, clinging to one another in the aftermath. With a shudder and a growl Chris grips my ass firmly, driving in one last time before I feel him spill into me, hot and thick, it’s a strange sensation but such a welcome one. He recovers from the aftershock and withdraws quickly, it’s a bit rough and I wince. But I forget all about it when he flips me over on my back, pinning my thighs down as he bends, taking my cock as his mouth.

As he moves rhythmically, bobbing his head up and down with a steady tempo, the sensations build within me. The warmth and wetness envelop me, sending tingles of pleasure radiating through my body. I can't help but let out a series of desperate, whimpering cries, my voice trembling with each utterance of "f-f-fuck." My hands tremble as they grip the back of his head, tangling in his dark, grown-out hair. The vibrations of his approving groans reverberate against me, stoking the fire within. The tension coils tighter and tighter until I can no longer contain it, throwing my head back with a deep, satisfied sigh.

“Come on, puppy, come for me.” His words coming out between ragged pants as he takes my cock deep into his mouth, the warm, wet suction enveloping me completely. “You've been so good. Let me have it.” His mouth works skillfully, tongue swirling and lips pulling, coaxing me ever closer to the edge. I whimper and cry out as my hips twitch and buck as the pleasure builds, Chris’s strong hands gripping tightly to hold me in place. Finally, with just two, three more strokes of that talented mouth, I can't hold back. My whole body convulses, vision whiting out as I spill myself down his eager throat. Chris swallows it all hungrily, not letting a single drop escape, his grip on my thighs trembling thighs white-knuckled and unyielding.

We are sweaty and spent, as the adrenaline rush dissipated, the reality of what had just transpired between us settled in, leaving us both momentarily at a loss for words.

Chris finally broke the silence, his voice tinged with a hint of wistfulness as he spoke. "I don't know about you," he said, "but I miss our girl, and I think she deserves an apology too." With that, he rose from the bed, gathering his discarded clothing and dressing himself with a casual, unhurried grace. Crossing the room, he paused to press a soft, tender kiss to my lips, his eyes searching mine as he silently posed the question

“What do you say?”

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