#thanks sky <3 it was a labor of love all around!

[cordiallyfuturedwight]

pretty namjin 💖✨for @magicshop (cr. jung-koook)

[rootedinrevisions]

Unplanned Journeys: Part 3

SUMMARY: You and Jake decide on a name for your son. You take him home from the hospital. And together you survive the first night home together.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Thanks to the Anon who sent the request for this in! I hope you enjoy it! Also, as of right now, this is the last part I plan on writing for this story. However, down the road, I may decide to add more to this! I'm kind of undecided on if I want to continue this story or not.

WARNINGS: Fluff.

WORD COUNT: 2.5K

TAG LIST: @omgbrianab I @shanimallina87 I @fanficmom94 I @smoothdogsgirl I @djs8891 

If you would like to be added to my Tag List please feel free to comment, send an ask, or send a DM and I'll be happy to get you added!

Later that day, the hospital room felt peaceful, a serene bubble away from the whirlwind of the morning. You had cleaned up, the lingering exhaustion of labor still present but softened by the warmth of your baby cradled in your arms. Jake sat beside you, his presence a steady comfort. One arm wrapped around your shoulders, while his other hand gently stroked the tiny head of your son as if trying to absorb every detail of this new life.

“Can you believe we actually did it?” you murmured, glancing up at Jake, who wore a soft smile, his eyes shining with pride.

“Yeah, we did,” he replied, his voice low and filled with awe. “He’s incredible.”

You looked down at the baby, his tiny features still scrunched from his journey into the world. “I think he looks like a little you,” you joked, grinning. “Maybe we should just call him Jake Jr.”

Jake chuckled, a deep, rich sound that filled the room. “I’m not sure Jake Jr. quite fits,” he replied, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “What about Jameson? You know, after my grandfather? I know we had talked about it before.”

You nodded, considering it. “Jameson has a nice ring to it. We could do Jacob Jameson Seresin or Jameson Jacob Seresin. But what if we gave him a nickname? JJ could work”

“I love it,” Jake said, leaning closer. “JJ it is. That way, he gets the family name, but he can be his own person, too.”

You smiled at the thought of your son being named after such an important figure in Jake’s life. “Jameson Jacob Seresin, but we’ll call him JJ,” you said softly, testing the name on your tongue. “I think it suits him.”

Jake leaned in, brushing a tender kiss on your forehead. “You’re going to be the best mom, you know that?” His voice was filled with warmth, and you could feel the sincerity behind his words.

“And you’re going to be the best dad,” you replied, your heart swelling with love.

You both glanced down at JJ, who had finally settled, his little chest rising and falling in a peaceful rhythm. Jake’s hand moved to cup the back of your head as he pulled you closer, and you felt a wave of contentment wash over you.

“I can’t wait to show him everything,” Jake said, his voice barely above a whisper. “I want to teach him how to fly, how to be brave. But most of all, I want him to know how much he’s loved.”

Tears prickled at the corners of your eyes, overwhelmed by the weight of his words and the depth of his commitment. “He will know, Jake. You’re already such a good dad,” you replied, feeling the bond between you grow stronger with every heartbeat.

As you settled into the moment, the three of you formed a new little family, bound by love and shared dreams. The outside world faded away, leaving just the two of you and your son, the future stretching ahead like an open sky.

* * * * *

The hospital room felt like a distant memory as you sat in the wheelchair, a mix of exhaustion and exhilaration coursing through you. JJ was bundled up in his car seat, the small bundle of joy so new and precious. You watched as Jake walked ahead of you, the epitome of proud fatherhood. He had a diaper bag slung over one shoulder, and in his other hand, he carefully held the car seat, cradling your son like the precious cargo he was.

Jake’s strides were confident, but there was a softness in the way he moved as if he were fully aware of the fragility of the moment. He glanced back at you over his shoulder, and when your eyes met, a smile broke across his face—one filled with joy and determination. In that instant, all your worries melted away.

This is it you thought, your heart swelling as you took in the sight of him. This wasn’t how you had envisioned your life unfolding, but as you watched Jake navigate the bustling hospital corridor, you knew deep down that you wouldn’t change a thing.

“Ready to go home?” he called out, his voice light and teasing, though you could hear the pride lacing his words.

“More than ready,” you replied, your smile widening.

As you made your way toward the exit, the world outside felt like a fresh start. The sun streamed in through the glass doors, illuminating the path ahead. You could see the car waiting, the backseat prepared for JJ, and a wave of excitement washed over you.

Once outside, Jake carefully secured the car seat into the base that he had installed in the backseat of the car a few weeks ago. His focus was intense, and you admired how he took this responsibility so seriously. He maneuvered the car seat with ease, securing the straps with a tenderness that made your heart flutter.

“Okay, all set!” he announced, standing back to admire his handiwork.

Jake turned to you with a soft smile. “Let me help you in.”

You nodded, feeling a rush of gratitude. As you transferred from the wheelchair to the backseat, Jake's hands gently guided your waist, ensuring you were comfortable.

“There you go, babe,” he said, helping you settle next to JJ. His presence felt reassuring, and you smiled at him as you adjusted yourself, now sitting close to your son.

He leaned in towards you, checking on JJ with a proud look. “You ready for this, little man?” he murmured, his finger brushing over JJ’s tiny hand.

You leaned forward, watching the scene unfold before you—a proud father, ready to embrace the journey ahead. As he started the engine, he turned to you with that same radiant smile. “You ready for this, babe?”

You nodded, feeling a surge of hope and happiness. “Absolutely. Let’s go.”

With that, you drove off into the unknown, but this time, you felt ready to embrace every moment together as a family.

The drive home was quiet, filled with a mixture of awe and exhaustion. Jake kept glancing at you in the rearview mirror, his eyes soft as you sat beside your newborn son in the backseat. The early spring sunlight poured in through the windows, casting a warm glow over your little family as you pulled into Jake’s driveway.

“Home sweet home,” Jake whispered, his voice filled with a mix of pride and tenderness as he parked the truck.

He quickly got out and came around to help you out of the car, his strong hands gentle as they supported you. You felt the lingering soreness from the delivery, and Jake noticed your wince, instantly shooting you a look of concern.

“Take it slow, babe,” he murmured, his hand never leaving yours as you stepped onto the driveway.

You smiled softly, appreciating his care. “I’m okay. Just still getting used to… everything.”

Jake grinned, leaning in to kiss your temple. “You’ve been amazing. Both of you.”

He carefully removed JJ’s car seat from the base, holding the carrier in one hand while his other remained on your lower back, guiding you gently toward the house. You both stepped inside, the space suddenly feeling so much more meaningful now that your little family had grown.

“Welcome home, little man,” Jake whispered to your son as you crossed the threshold, his voice laced with emotion.

You followed him into the living room, where sunlight filtered in through the windows, casting a soft light over everything. Jake set the carrier down and knelt beside it, unbuckling the tiny straps with a gentleness that made your heart swell. He carefully lifted your son, holding him close against his chest. You could see the nervous pride in Jake’s movements, the careful way he cradled your newborn as if the entire world was in his arms.

Jake settled onto the couch, laying back against the cushions with your son resting on his chest. His hand gently supported the baby’s back as he reached for a soft blanket and draped it over the two of them, making sure your son was comfortable and warm. The sight of Jake like this—tender, protective—made your breath catch in your throat. The somewhat hardened aviator you had once known was now a father, and seeing him like this stirred something entirely new in you.

You stood for a moment, just watching them, the two people you loved most in the world completely at peace together. Jake’s thumb brushed across your son’s tiny back, his eyes fixed on the baby’s small, delicate features.

“He’s so small,” Jake whispered, a mixture of awe and disbelief in his voice.

You smiled, sitting down on the edge of the couch next to them. “He’s perfect.”

Jake looked up at you, his eyes filled with a love that was almost overwhelming. “You did so good, you know that?” he said quietly. “I can’t believe how lucky I am. We are.”

The softness in his words brought tears to your eyes, and you leaned in, pressing a kiss to Jake’s forehead. “We’re a family now.”

Jake’s hand reached out, taking yours and gently squeezing. “Yeah,” he murmured, his eyes full of emotion. “And I’ll always be here, for both of you. I promise.”

You nodded, the weight of his words sinking in. Watching him with your son, so tender and protective, you felt a surge of love for him that was different than anything you’d felt before. This wasn’t just the man you loved—it was the father of your child. The person who would stand by both of your sides no matter what.

As the afternoon light dimmed, you curled up beside Jake on the couch, your head resting on his shoulder, the baby’s soft breathing the only sound in the room. You didn’t need words in that moment. Everything you could possibly want was right here in this quiet, beautiful moment—the love of your life, and the new life you’d created together.

* * * * *

That first night at home felt like stepping into a new world—everything was the same, yet completely different. The house was quiet, the only sound being the soft rustle of blankets and the occasional sigh from your newborn, JJ. After a peaceful afternoon, the day began to settle into dusk, and it was time to get JJ ready for bed.

Jake had taken the lead, gently cradling your son as he moved around the nursery, getting him changed and into his little pajamas. You watched from the doorway, a soft smile playing on your lips as Jake spoke in a low, soothing voice to the baby.

“There we go, buddy,” Jake whispered as he fastened the last snap on JJ’s onesie. “All clean and cozy for your first night home.”

He lifted JJ carefully into his arms, cradling him close to his chest as he swayed from side to side, the motion slow and calming. You could see the concentration in Jake’s face, the way he moved with such care and gentleness. It was a side of him that you loved seeing—a side that was still new and yet felt so natural.

Jake carried JJ over to the bassinet, gently lowering him into it as you watched from the bed. Your heart swelled, the sight of Jake as a father stirring up emotions you hadn’t fully anticipated. He leaned down, brushing his lips over the baby’s forehead before whispering, “Goodnight, little man. Sleep tight.”

He turned to you with a soft smile, his eyes filled with love. “Your turn,” he teased quietly, sliding into bed beside you. He wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you close as you both lay there, watching your son drift off to sleep.

The room was bathed in soft moonlight, peaceful and quiet. For a moment, it felt like everything might stay that way.

But then, not long after you’d both drifted off, you were startled awake by the sound of JJ’s soft cries filling the room. You stirred, instinctively moving to get up, but Jake was already ahead of you, his hand on your arm as he sat up.

“I’ve got it,” he whispered, his voice low and reassuring. “You rest.”

You nodded sleepily, sinking back into the pillows as Jake quietly climbed out of bed and made his way to the bassinet. You watched through half-lidded eyes as he scooped JJ up, rocking him gently as he whispered calming words. The crying began to ease, and Jake’s rhythmic movements soon lulled your son back to sleep.

Jake settled JJ back into the bassinet, then returned to bed, sliding under the covers and pulling you close again. His warmth enveloped you, and you drifted off once more, comforted by the thought that Jake was right there, taking care of things.

But it wasn’t long before the cries filled the room again. You stirred, but Jake was already on his feet, scooping JJ up with a sigh that was equal parts love and exhaustion.

He cradled your son, pacing the room as he hummed softly, but after a while, the baby’s fussing didn’t let up. You heard Jake sigh again, this time with a bit of frustration as he glanced back at you.

“I think he’s hungry,” Jake said softly, his eyes filled with reluctant defeat. “I tried everything else, but there’s only so much I can do.”

You smiled at him, your heart swelling with appreciation as you sat up in bed. “It’s okay,” you said, reaching for JJ as Jake carefully handed him to you.

The soft glow of the nightlight bathed the room in a warm, dim light as you settled JJ against you, guiding him as he began to nurse. The fussing quickly subsided, replaced by the quiet, rhythmic sound of your baby feeding. You looked down at him, marveling at how small and perfect he was, his little hands resting on your chest.

Jake sat on the edge of the bed, his eyes never leaving you as he watched the quiet, intimate moment unfold. There was a new kind of admiration in his gaze, something deep and tender that hadn’t been there before. He leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to your shoulder.

“You’re amazing,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “Watching you with him... I didn’t think it was possible, but I think I love you even more.”

You felt a lump rise in your throat, the weight of his words sinking in. You turned your head slightly, catching his eye as he looked at you with a mixture of awe and love that took your breath away.

“I couldn’t do this without you,” you whispered back, your voice just as emotional.

Jake smiled, his hand resting on your leg as he shook his head. “You’re the best mom to him. There’s no one else I’d want to be here with.”

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as you leaned into him, your heart so full it felt like it might burst. The night was far from easy—there would be many more sleepless nights ahead—but in that quiet, dimly lit room, you realized that together, you and Jake had created something truly beautiful. And no matter how hard it got, you knew you’d never have to do it alone.

[willalove75]

Alcina request - reader does labor while she watches from the shadows (or maybe her balcony) + nsfw thoughts of reader. Y/n is cutting wood for the fireplaces so the maids can keep the castle warm for the daughters <3

Love this!! Thanks so much for the request!!💕💕

Lets get into it!!

Warnings: masturbation

18+ Only Minors DNI

The morning sun was low in the sky on this chilly Sunday afternoon. Fall has begun to give way to winter so the Dimitrescu girls have been locked inside of the castle until spring.

Lady Dimitrescu is sitting at her vanity wrapped in one of her robes fixing her hair. In her head she's going over all of the things that need to get done, deciding which tasks on her to-do list can wait until tomorrow. It's not often where the Countess gets a day to relax so when the opportunity arises, she does what she can to take advantage of the situation.

*THWACK*

The Lady is pulled from her thoughts when she hears the sound. Pausing for a moment she goes back to the list in her head.

*THWACK*

She closes her eyes for a moment, trying to remain calm.

*THWACK*

Bringing her fingers to the bridge of her nose she prays that the noise outside her bedroom window stops. She doesn't hear the noise for a few seconds and picks up her teacup.

*THWACK*

Lady Dimitrescu all but slams her teacup down and walks over to the windows.

*THWACK*

Unable to see where the sound is coming from, she steps out onto her terrace and looks down. She's taken aback when she sees you raising an axe over your head driving it down and splitting a piece of wood.

*THWACK*

"What on the black gods green earth is she doing?" She mutters to herself.

Unless you work in the kitchens or are assigned to other important roles, usually all maids have off on Sundays to do what they please. Most make their way down to the village or spend time in the maids quarters. Some venture out to the library but for the most part the maids keep to themselves and relax. Watching you outside, in the cold, splitting wood on a Sunday morning was definitely out of the ordinary.

The cold air felt good on your heated skin as you chop the wood. You noticed that the wood pile was running low and the temperature was supposed to drop pretty drastically tonight. The girls, Bela, Cassandra and Daniela, can be hurt by the cold, killed even. It was something you learned early on when you started working at Castle Dimitrescu. In the late fall and winter all windows are to remain closed and every fireplace must be attended to. There's a few maids who are assigned the task but when you mentioned it to them this morning they waved it off and said that it was a problem for tomorrow and headed out to the village. It was something that rubbed you the wrong way, first of all, their tasks weren't complete. Secondly, it's not like running out of firewood would be harmless, it could kill the Countess' daughters. Yes, they were a lot to handle, a lot, but you couldn't understand why the maids thought it was okay in the least to even risk running out of firewood, especially when it's supposed to get so cold outside tonight. So you took it upon yourself to chop some wood, it's something you've done before, but haven't had to do often. You know you're going to be sore tomorrow but in your eyes it's worth it.

Chopping a few more logs you start to sweat more. Glancing around quickly you don't see anyone around so you pull your long sleeve shirt off and toss it aside leaving you in your pants and your camisole. For a moment the cold air bites at your exposed skin but the chill cools you off so much that it's refreshing.

Alcina watches you as you lay the axe against the stump you've been chopping the wood on. She's relieved for a brief second thinking that you're finished until you pull off your long sleeve shirt, wearing just a camisole underneath it. Watching you as you wipe the sweat from your brow, you grab the axe, put another log on the stump, raise your arms and swing.

*THWACK*

When the Countess was looking for a new handmaid you were in the running for the position. She ended up choosing another maid but now she can't quite remember why she didn't chose you. She is captivated as she watches you, she watches the muscles in your back and shoulders move with each swing, how the beads of sweat make your skin glisten in the morning sun, your strong arms, your delicate wrists. She pictures herself pinning your wrists above your head with your back against the wall. She lights a cigarette and closes her eyes, deeply inhaling, exhaling through her nose with a low growl.

*THWACK*

She opens her eyes again and watches you toss the logs onto the pile you've made so far. You've managed to chop a decent amount of wood for the short amount of time you've been out here. Deciding that a few more should do the trick, at least until tomorrow when the person who is supposed to keep the pile stacked refills the rest.

Lady Dimitrescu's attention is pulled away from you when she hears a small knock on her door.

*THWACK*

She turns and goes back inside, the door closing behind her.

Tossing the wood into the pile you see something out of the corner of your eye. Looking up you see the door to the Lady's terrace shut and movement in the window. The morning sun rays are reflecting off of the window too much for you to be able to see inside but you could have sworn that it was her. You begin to pick up the logs and bring them to the pile. Stacking logs in your arms, you go inside and start placing small piles near the fireplaces that are running low.

"Enter." Lady Dimitrescu says, taking a seat at her vanity.

Her new handmaid, Maria, comes in. A tray in her hands with a fresh pot of tea.

"Good morning my Lady."

"You can leave it over on the table." She says, waving in the direction of the table.

*THWACK*

"Is there anything else you need from me, my Lady?"

*THWACK*

Turning her head towards the sound once more Lady Dimitrescu takes a moment before she responds.

"Why is that maid chopping wood outside? I don't believe that is her assignment."

Walking over to the window Maria sees you.

"Oh, yes I saw her speaking to the maids this morning about that. She was gathering wood to tend to the fireplace and noticed that the pile was running low and when she talked to the girls that are responsible for keeping it stocked, they brushed her off and went down into the village. They said that's a 'tomorrow problem.'"

Lady Dimitrescu's eyes narrow at Maria.

"Do they know how cold it's supposed to get tonight?"

"Yes my Lady, y/n had mentioned it."

"And they know my daughters are susceptible to the cold? That it could very well kill them?" She says through gritted teeth.

"I'm not sure my Lady," Maria says nervously. "I don't want to assume, but given their assignment and the fact that every maid is made aware of that, I don't know how they don't."

A growl erupts from Lady Dimitrescu's chest, an anger bubbling inside of her. How can they not care about her daughters safety? About their lives when they were assigned to do the one task that keeps them safe.

"When the maids left, y/n took it upon herself to restock the wood pile, to at least have enough to last through the night." Maria says.

"Very well. That's all." The Countess says, dismissing the maid.

Lady Dimitrescu goes back to the window to find the axe laying against the stump, the logs you cut and the shirt you discarded gone. Her mind wanders back to the sight of you chopping wood. Your glistening, blemish free skin, how she would love to sink her teeth into it. How strong your back and arms looked as you wielded the axe above your head. Your beautiful face, your strong legs. A familiar feeling begins to develop between her legs deep in her core.

She's not sure if it's because of the fact that she hasn't been satisfied in a little while or because of how you looked out there, or because of how you went out of your way to make sure her daughters were safe. Or perhaps it was all of the above. All she knows is that if you were in front of her right now she would throw you onto her bed and ravish you.

The ache in her core grows so she decides to take care of herself before it gets too out of hand.

Making your way through the castle you replenish the wood in the library, the sitting rooms, and each of the girls bedrooms. You decide to take the last stack to the Lady's chambers since you had extra and her room was nearby.

Laying on her bed, her nightgown tossed aside, the Countess works her fingers in and out of herself, replaying the image of you in her head over and over again. Her other hand massages her breast, rolling her hardened nipple between her fingers. Just as she's beginning to feel her orgasm build there's a knock at the door.

"Who is it?" She asks, annoyed that she was interrupted.

"It's y/n, my Lady. I have extra firewood if you need for your room."

Lady Dimitrescu gets up and pulls her robe on, loosely tying it around her waist so she's covered, but open enough to leave little of her chest to the imagination.

The door opens and you look up to see the Countess. You have to snap your mouth shut when you look up to see her in her robe, her large breasts barely covered.

"Enter." She says standing aside. You walk into her room and place the wood next to her fireplace. The click of the door closing gets your attention and you turn to see the Countess slowly walking towards you, like a predator stalking its prey.

"Was that you I saw outside chopping wood this morning?" Her voice is stern.

You stare at her speechless. She did see you. You're not sure if you're afraid or aroused or both.

"Speak pet. I don't like to be kept waiting."

"Y-yes, my Lady."

"I heard you alerted the maids whose responsibility it is to keep the wood pile stocked that it was running low and that the temperature was going to drop significantly tonight, when they did nothing, you took it upon yourself to do another maids work. Is that correct?"

You're fucked, she's pissed, you know it.

"Yes my Lady." You say, your voice barely a whisper.

"Why?"

"Be-because I know the cold can be dangerous to the Ladies of the castle and I-I didn't want any harm to come to them."

You're convinced that she's going to end you right then and there.

"How sweet of you, my little pet." You're taken aback when you realize how soft her tone is. Expecting her to be condescending, you don't sense a hint of it in her voice. She steps up to you, her golden eyes boring into your soul. "Would you like your reward?"

"Reward?"

"Of course, you spent your day off doing physical labor to keep my daughters safe. What kind of Lady would I be if I don't offer you a reward for all of your hard work and dedication?" You stare at her blankly, unsure of what to say. "I'll give you a few options then. You can either take extra vacation days, receive a monetary reward, or, another special reward." Her long fingers dance along the edge of her robe, down her sternum, between her breasts. She pulls the robe open just a touch more and her fingers come to rest at the loosely tied knot at her waist. "So pet, what will it be?"

You feel like you're hallucinating, there's no way this is happening. Of course you've admired the Lady from afar, almost every maid has. But to have her offer you herself as a reward? Did the axe smack you in the head?

Lady Dimitrescu leans forward, her face just inches away from yours. Your eyes flicker to her breasts hanging in front of you, barely covered by her robe anymore. Her gold eyes steal your attention and you notice her pupils dilating.

"Which reward pet? I already told you once, I don't like to be kept waiting."

"Sorry my Lady." You say quietly. "Um," you want to say the special one but suddenly you feel horribly embarrassed. "I-I" Your cheeks turn a dark red that rivals the lipstick painted across her full lips.

"Cat got your tongue?" She teases, her voice low and velvety. The only thing you can do it nod. "Is it the vacation you want?" You shake your head "no." "The money?" Again, you shake your head "no." She smirks, analyzing your face. "Is it the special reward?" You shake your head "yes" this time. "Use your words little pet."

"Y-yes, my Lady. Please."

"Excellent."

She places her hand on your chest and pushes you against the wall in one swift motion. The air gets pushed out of your lungs when you're slammed against the wall. Lady Dimitrescu wraps her hand around your neck and lifts you up against the wall until you're eye level with her. To your surprise, she hasn't cut off your airflow, holding you tight enough to effortlessly lift you, but not enough to choke you. Her knee parts your legs and she presses it up into your core, a whine escaping your lips when you feel her push into you.

She releases your neck, keeping you pinned against the wall with her body weight and her leg. Grabbing your wrists, she pins them above your head against the wall with one of her hands, her other hand firmly grasping onto your waist under your shirt. Her lips brush against yours, you can feel her hot breath on your face. You feel your core begin to throb and hope she doesn't feel it against her leg. Lady Dimitrescu closes her eyes and inhales deeply, she can smell your arousal. Her pupils are blown out when she opens them, the corner of her lip curling just a little.

Her hand under your shirt leaves your skin and she brings two fingers to your lips. Parting them, she slides them into your mouth. Your eyes widen when you taste them, something on them, were you tasting her?

"I was in the middle of something when you knocked on the door. As disappointed as I was to be interrupted, I was happy to see that it was you. I'm sure you can taste what watching you out there did to me. How lucky am I that now I get to have you all to myself?"

She pulls her fingers from your mouth. You're only able to let out a small whine before her fingers are replaced with her tongue. She pulls back with your lower lip between her teeth, pulling a moan from your lips as she does it.

"Now I get to do all of the things I fantasized about."

[slightlyhozy]

“Through the Cold, I’ll Find my Way Back to You.”

Chapter 2: “All my love and terror, balanced there between those eyes.”

Characters: Púca! Andrew Hozier-Byrne x Original Female Character

Summary: Maisie Quinn, after inheriting a home in Ireland from her late grandmother, slowly learns a dark past about the land in which it was built on.

Word Count - 2,098

Warnings - None except for animal death and descriptions of their bodies

A/N - I’m still learning how to write longer chapters, I will get better!

That day, I had looked into whatever the hell this Púca was. Seeing that it wasn’t necessarily a danger in any stories made my anxiety ease, which was a bit embarrassing since I didn’t even believe that it existed.

Closing my laptop, I looked around my new bedroom, the wooden floors were effortlessly dusty and cracked. Grunting, I opened my laptop again, in pursuit of finding someone in the area to install new flooring in certain rooms.

Settling was getting easier despite the fact Mary was the only person I really knew, On a good note, I already had a form in for a commission out in Dublin; they wanted me to paint a mural in the lobby of their office building. I figured the best way to go about living in a new country was to make connections anyway.

——————————————————————

That night, I lay with Lenny in my arms, surrounded by blankets, as some movie played. I pressed a kiss on his head as we cuddled. My mind kept drifting back to the monster, my mind constantly justifying why it wasn’t real; I knew it wasn’t real. I thought about the property and area surrounding it; there were never any bad vibes; it always seemed normal.

While thoughts scurried around my head, a familiar scratch caught me off guard, making me jump. The fox.

My head turned to the door, sighing, I was tempted to go and feed the fox. Thinking back to my conversation with Elsie, interfering with wildlife really wasn’t a good idea. I had just moved here, I should at least put the effort into making a good impression, if not to anyone in particular.

As my dog growled, his attention turned to the door, and I began to pet him in an attempt to calm him down. I understood he tended to be protective of me but never like this, over an animal. “Lenny, shhh.” Scratching behind his ears, he whimpered towards the door, moving to lay back beside me.

Trying to focus on the movie, I could hear the creature outside screaming for attention, it was borderline eerie. I continued to sit, it wasn’t my place to feed it, that was the fox’s job.

After ten minutes, I couldn't handle it anymore. Turning off the TV, I stood up and walked to the stairs, going up to my bedroom for the night.

——————————————————————

I grumbled, pulling weeds from the gravel of the garden. I had been at it for hours now, only joined by the sound of Van Morrison singing in my ears and the chirps of birds in the trees. Other than the labor, it was therapeutic.

Sitting back, I took a swig of water, looking around the garden. The weather had been nice, it was early September, so the weather had started getting colder than it was before. The sky was white, and the trees were less vibrant. As I pulled out the invasive plants, my eyebrows raised as my eyes fell on a small mouse.

The furry rodent in question was undoubtedly dead, but the only injury was a bloody wound on its side. As I continued to pull weeds, 3 more bodies were found. Initially, I believed that there was a cat that lurked in my garden, but then also the lack of injury or puncture to the bodies made no sense. I felt as though I was turning into a skeptic or just feeling the effects of my disorder. Before I could spiral, I was brought back to life by a bird call.

Looking up into the tree, I immediately recognized the black stripe along its eyes, much like a bandit’s mask. Oh. It was a shrike, I wasn’t even aware they had those in Ireland. Internally, I thanked myself for having a bird phase, otherwise, I would be sent into a phase of paranoia over dead mice. Still, I was puzzled around the fact that the mice weren’t eaten, simply impaled, then dropped.

I wasn’t too sure what could be wrong with the animals in the area, perhaps there’s a disease spreading amongst species. I wasn’t informed enough to really have a clue, but it was almost creepy.

While I pondered, another bird flew next to perch beside the shrike. After a moment, the two began to squawk and fight with eachother, their beaks clashing. Not being interested in watching what could happen to the smaller bird picking a fight with a brutal predator, I collected my garden tools and water bottle, making my way back to the house.

Lenny was sniffing around the yard as I cleared out the mouse corpses, like I had the other animal on my porch. The sun was slowly setting, and all I could think about was getting a proper drink and starting on a personal art project, the subject of which is still a mystery to me.

——————————————————————

Over the next few nights, the fox seemed to only get more aggressive. I frowned as I stared at my front door, this time, a dead rabbit was left. Did it think that I ran out of food? The rabbit itself would be unedible if I even wanted to eat it, it was completely squished, presumably roadkill. The wood along the door had been scratched, deep. A shiver ran up my spine as my finger reached out to trace the marks, the light inner wood going about half an inch deep. I wasn’t even sure how it was possible, but I also knew that I would now have to invest in new flooring and a door.

I was a bit worried that it would attack me if I didn’t feed it; with no evidence to back this up, any creak or sound outside would make me jump. When I slept, I dreamt of it attacking me or Lenny. So now, after three nights of ignoring the animal, I decided to give in.

It was almost one in the morning, finally, my couch had been installed, freeing me from the pain of having to haul my long limbs off the ground. With a small tub of ice cream in my hand, I was binge-watching Breaking Bad. The sound of Walter White monologing went through one ear, out the other as I anxiously awaited the arrival of the fox. I was almost worried it wouldn’t come. Why was I worried? Why wouldn’t I want it gone?

As if it were summoned, a familiar squaking woke me from my thoughts, immediately sending me to pause my show and put my ice cream somewhere Lenny couldn’t reach. I shushed him with my finger to my lips. As I went to look through the window. To my expectations, the small animal stood on the top of the steps, its green eyes gleaming under the poarch light.

Afraid of any chances of Lenny putting himself in danger, I led the dog to the study, shutting him inside, the door muffling his barks and growls.

In the kitchen, I worked to fix a wet bowl of dog food and a scoop of pumpkin purée on top. Opening the door, the fox stood expectantly. I set the bowl down, quickly moving to shut the glass door so I could see it eat. Again, it’s eyes stalked me as it ate eagerly, as if I had starved it. Perhaps it couldn’t hunt, wouldn’t…? If it couldn’t, where were these dead animals coming from?

——————————————————————

Fresh air. Fresh air was what I needed, space, was what I needed.

The morning after the encounter with the fox, I decided to go to the beach with Lenny. Throwing on a grey knit sweater, black jeans, boots, and a beanie, I clip on Lenny’s leash, his tail wagging faster than it had in a long time. As I go outside, I make sure to clean up the brutalized hedgehog left on my porch, the guts splattered across my porch. As I cleaned up the insides, visibly unhappy, I simultaneously fought Lenny back from eating it.

Smelling the sea was a specific kind of nostalgia, the beach itself wasn’t too different than some back in Washington. The air kisses my cheeks as I fight it, the clashing waves soothing my ears. I clutched the leash, hoping he wouldn’t try and run along the beach.

I felt grateful that there was no one in the morning, just me, my coffee, and my dog. I wonder if I was becoming a loner, back home, I seemed to be going out every day, with friends and making them as well. Now, all I had available was Mary. As much as I enjoyed some alone time, I wondered how long it would take until it became too lonely for me, I wondered how long it would be until I found a routine with my work, more clients, and when I would meet local artists.

Taking in the scent again, I closed my eyes, the cool wind making me feel more grounded and alive than I had in a year. Keeping them closed, I continued to walk into what seemed to be a never-ending path, curving around the water.

As if enjoying my solitude was too much, my eyes scrunched up as my shoulder was bumped. My eyes shot open as I helplessly watched my coffee cup fall against the sand, the contents leaking into the grains. Lenny immediately went to investigate, sniffing and licking the spill.

After picking up the cup, I look up the figure that disrupted my walk. He was tall. Around 9 inches taller than me, his nose and cheeks were a dusty pink from the cold, the coloration obvious from the cold weather.

His beard was nicely groomed, but his hair was messy and greasy.  Above his pronounced cheekbone, there was a small, healing cut across the skin. His eyes were cold and endless, not kind but not uninviting. Where the hell did he even come from?

“Sorry… Uh, I wasn’t paying attention. I wasn’t too sure why I was apologizing, according to my therapist, it was one of my weakest traits. The stranger stepped back, sizing me up.

He didn’t reply, I could hear Lenny by my side, growling lowly. “Really, sorry, he’s just protective... I promise he’s a good dog.”

“It’s alright.” His voice was deep, rich, and smooth like honey, he was hansome in general, just unsettling. He brushed a gloved hand through his brown curls, his green eyes following me.

I wasn’t sure what to do, I was pretty desperate for interactions, and he only seemed 10 years older than me at most. “Nice weather?” I cringed at my terrible use of small talk.

“Alright. Cold.”

“I mean, it usually is... cold.” Awkwardly, I itched at my neck, unsure what to do. “I’m Maisie.” I held my hand out, his eyes just darting to stare at it, not accepting it.

“Andrew. Are you American?”

I swallowed nervously, I didn’t want to come off as an uneducated, arrogant American prick. “Uh, well, yes, I just moved in... I live over..east..” My arm extended to point towards my home.

“I know.” My face immediately grew concerned, he knew? How?

“What do you mean?”

He didn’t reply.

“Andrew… Do you live around here? Or do you like, drive down here for walks.” His brows furrow, as if I were asking something invasive.

“I live near here, I like water.” His hand reaches up to scratch at the scab forming on his face, I notice how one of his glove fingers has the tip torn off.

I nod along awkwardly, maybe he didn’t get out much? “Yeah, me too... It’s nice to live this close to the ocean.” He doesn't answer again. “I lived in Seattle, so I was really far away from the ocean, sometimes, we’d go visit family on the coast.”

His brows furrow. “Where’s that?”

“Washington? Uh, it’s in the Pacific Northwest of America; Kurt Cobain was born there.” He seemed clueless. “Oh…” My face furrows with concern as I see blood, almost black, start to drip down his face. “You…your scab… It’s kind of..” I try to point it out casually, not trying to be rude.

Moving his hand away, Andrew moves to lick his finger, his brows raising. “Oh,” He doesn’t seem too concerned with the color of his blood as he observes it. “Habit.”

“Right,” As I am about to speak more, my phone rings—the flooring installers I had been talking to. “Oh, sorry, I need to take this.” I whisper to him as I back up, pressing my phone to my ear. He just gives me a weak wave as I turn away, waiting for my turn in the cue.

As I turned back around not even a minute later to say goodbye, he was gone. Andrew. The weirdest and one of the rudest men I had ever met.

A/N: ANDREW DOESNT STAY LIKE THIS THE WHOLE TIME I PROMISE HE ISNT BORING

[itssliyahhxoxo]

Can you do a part 3 for Paige x leah about like a gender reveal and stuff and then end it with a going into labor cliff hanger

𝐁𝐚𝐛𝐲 𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐤 pt 3

(𝐁𝐖𝐖𝐖)

(𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐠𝐞 𝐱 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐡)

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐲-what could it be

You were now 4 months going on 5 you didn’t what to know the gender but Paige did so for her you threw a surprise gender reveal party.

You had it set up at her parents house so you had the girls hold her back for the day so you and her mom and yours could set up the look on her face when she came out back was priceless.

You did all this for me she wrapped her arms around your waist yeah I know how bad you wanted this and you get the honors to reveal the gender you answered wrapping your arms around her neck.

Really her smile brightened yep you softly smiled pulling her into a kiss.

It was almost sunset, just a couple more minutes until the reveal when Paige pulled your father to the side nervously scared of him I mean just look at him he looks like he could crush her with one hand.

Gulping she started the conversation I-i know you don’t really like me like that but..I’m madly in love with your daughter and I would do anything to make her happy.

She then pulled out a small box and opened it rebuilding a diamond ring..I w-wanna marry your daughter..he blatantly stared at her with his arms crossed w-with your permission, of course she mumbled nervously.

There was a short pause before he answered bueckers if you hurt her I’ll beak your face he nodded making her gulp so t-that a y-yes he cut her off she slowly nodded and thanked him slowly walking away and bueckers he called out making her freeze.

I don’t hate you but I don’t like you either but if it make my little girl happy that I’d do like you..then I’m willing to try he finished and walk away Paige watched him walk away and shock.

Hey what was that all about you asked walking next to her w-what on yeah nothing she rushed out you gave her a weird look ok well it time you handed her a basket ball you had planned for her to to shoot her shot with the ball and when she did you have someone set up cannons.

Filled with pink or blue confetti that would go off when she did.

She took her position on the basketball court. Her parents had set up when she was little she nervously bounce the ball she took a deep breath before throwing the ball making it into the net the two cannons went off with a loud bang pink confetti and power shot into the sky.

Everyone screamed Paige jumping up and down she then ran towards you to spin you around tears in her eyes happy she got her girl.

Months later you know 8 months pregnant it was almost that time you and Paige now more careful then ever.

That night Paige decided to cook for you too that night you had to beg her to help with something finally saying yes she let you cut the vegetables as she sang her heart out to share my world as you laughed at her then all of a sudden you felt liquid fall down your leg making you freeze.

You looked down and saw a puddle of water form under you Paige you whispered in shock she didn’t hear you screaming to the top of her lungs the song lyrics.

Paige you yelled over her when you felt a sharp pain in your stomach what she paused and looked at you confused.

My water broke you answered her eyes widened and looked down and saw the puddle of water on the e floor she then looked back at you.

Holy shit.



[bookworm551]

Of Duty and Desire | Epilogue | Neteyam x Metkayina!reader

A/N: hello my loves! Here is the final part of this fic, thank you so much for all the kind words!!! This has been a labor of love, and your support means the world to me 🥰 as much as I enjoy writing for writing’s sake, knowing it makes y’all happy makes it all the sweeter. I don’t rlly have any more Neteyam fic ideas, but I do have a seed of an idea for a Ronal/Tonowari backstory fic, and if that’s something that you’re interested in, y’all should lmk 🤔 anyways, enjoy this plotless, domestic, day-in-the-life epilogue

Word count: 4.1k

Warnings: some spiciness but nothing explicit

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6

A large splash outside of your pod startled you out of your sleep. You blinked your eyes blearily as you took a deep breath. Outside, the sky was a dim gray, indicating the eclipse was ending and the morning was just beginning.

You tried stretching to wake yourself further, but you found that your body was trapped against the heavy weight of your mate. One of his arms was wrapped tightly around your waist while his face was buried in your hair, and your legs were tangled together.

You frequently woke up like this. Even after nearly three years of being together, Neteyam seemed as drawn to your body in his sleep as he did when he was awake. You savored the feeling of his warm skin against your back, and you wished you could fall back asleep again, but you knew it was time for you to get up.

Slowly and reluctantly, you pushed yourself up from where you had been laying. Neteyam's arm still rested on your waist, and you had to gently push him off of you. He withdrew it and shifted with a sigh, still unconscious.

You looked back down at him with a small smile. Three years still hadn't taken away the way the adoration you felt for him. You loved waking up next to him every morning, and you loved falling asleep with him every night.

You leaned over to place a kiss on Neteyam's forehead. Your movements must have pulled him from his sleep because he began to stir. Without opening his eyes, he tilted his head up to search for your lips with his. You smiled and moved down to kiss him gently.

"It's so early," he mumbled against your mouth, his voice low and raspy from sleep. "I know," you replied quietly. "But I promised to join the first catch today, remember?" He hummed in response, and he brushed his fingers against your waist.

"Stay a little longer," he implored, his eyes still closed. You chuckled at him. "I can't," you replied. "I gave my word I would help." He heaved a large sigh, his fingers still brushing your skin. "Don't go," he muttered quietly.

You shook your head at him with a smile. "You could come with us," you suggested. He hummed again. "I am not yet awake," he replied with a faint smile.

An idea formed in your head, and a slow smirk grew on your face. You turned your body toward him and crawled onto his lap, straddling him. You saw how his breathing changed just from your movement, and his eyes finally blinked opened to look up at you.

"Maybe I could help wake you up," you suggested innocently. The smirk that grew on his face mirrored your own, and his hands wandered up your thighs to rest on your hips. "I like that idea," he murmured in a low voice.

"Is that right?" You asked in a teasing tone before rocking your hips against his. He didn't respond, grunting softly instead as his body tightened in reaction to the friction between you. You ran your hands over the hard muscles of his torso up to his chest, and you could feel how his heartbeat quickened under your palm.

You leaned over and kissed him, and this time, his lips parted to receive yours eagerly. You continued slowly grinding against him, and he groaned at the feeling. His hands gripping your hips encouraged your movements as he slipped his tongue into your mouth.

"You wore me out last night," you murmured with a sly grin. "I would have thought you needed more sleep after what we did." He hummed quietly, a smirk growing on his face as the memories of your moans replayed in his head from the previous night. "What do you mean?" He asked mischievously. "I could've kept going." You chuckled, and you were sure he was telling the truth. He had impressive stamina.

Sliding your hands up to his neck, you began slowly pulling away from him. As you had wanted, he chased after your lips, sitting up slowly as his arms wrapped around your torso. "I think we should do this every morning," he mumbled between kisses. You smiled against his lips, knowing that he was not going to like what you were going to say next.

"You know what I think?" You asked as he trailed his kisses down your neck. "Tell me what you think," he whispered against your skin, his voice growing breathy in anticipation. You savored the last few seconds of his touch before replying, "I think you are awake now."

His lips paused, and when he looked back up at your face, you planted one last, chaste kiss on his mouth before rolling off of his lap. He looked confused as you stood up and stretched before he realized what you meant. That was all the action you were going to give him.

"Why would you do that?" He groaned. You chuckled at his distress. "I told you," you replied, "I am helping with first catch. Since you are awake now, you can help, too." Neteyam was not amused, and on his face, you could see the lust still burning in his eyes.

"I'm going to get you for that," he promised in a low voice. You smirked. "I'm counting on it," you shot back before climbing down the net ladder to your living space and walking out into the dim morning light.

Outside, there were already a couple early-risers out in the water. They were spread out along the shallow parts of the water with cast nets in hand. Walking out to the beach, you were greeted by the sight of Tsireya.

You were forever grateful for her friendship. After the Rite of First Blood, everybody changed in the way they treated you, and the clan held a visible animosity toward Neteyam for his victory. No doubt it would have stayed that way for a long time had Tsireya not been there to shut down nasty gossip and treat the two of you respectfully. Thanks to her, people no longer stared at you when you were with Neteyam.

She had always been like a sister to you, but that status was more official now that she was Lo'ak's mate. Her parents—specifically Ronal—had not been very happy when they asked for their blessing, but ever since you left your role, they had become more open to listening to what their children wanted from life.

They both had forgiven you for what had happened, but it had take Ronal quite a while before she spoke to you again. She held on to her animosity for nearly two years before she realized that she was the only one left still angry at you. Aonung had moved on with the new tsakarem, and Tonowari could see that you were happier than ever now.

"Does Lo'ak know you are here?" You asked Tsireya with a smile as you stepped into the water behind her. She turned at the sound of your voice, her growing belly sticking out just enough to be noticeable. "I told him yesterday I would be here," she said with a shrug. "It is not my fault if he does not remember."

You laughed. "I know exactly what you mean," you replied. You watched as she threw her cast net gracefully out in the water. "We better hope Lo'ak does not find out you are actually doing work," you teased with a knowing smile as she pulled in her catch. She sighed in mild exasperation. Her mate had been treating her like she was a fragile sea shell ever since discovering that she was with child, and you could plainly see that Tsireya was growing tired of his diligent oversight.

As if on cue, the sounds of someone cutting through the water interrupted your conversation, and you turned around to find Lo'ak wading into the water with you. "Good morning," you greeted as he passed you toward Tsireya. "Morning," he mumbled, still half-asleep apparently.

Coming up behind Tsireya, he placed a kiss on her temple as he gently took the ropes of the net from her hands. "Let me do it," he told her. She huffed at him but let him take it. "I can fish perfectly well on my own," she argued. "I have done it longer than you." Lo'ak gave her a soft smile. "I know," he acknowledged. "But I want to do it for you."

Tsireya sighed and gave you a pointed look. You couldn't help but smile at her. Even though you knew she didn't enjoy all the coddling, you couldn't deny that you found Lo'ak's concern at least a little endearing. He was so excited and nervous to be a father, and it showed in how much he doted on Tsireya.

"I hope my brother isn't still sleeping," Lo'ak told you as he pulled in Tsireya's catch. You smirked as you replied, "He was awake when I left."

"He is still awake," a voice called out behind you. You turned to find that Neteyam was already in the water stepping towards the three of you. You gave him a coy smile and said, "There you are." Neteyam looked at you with a face that said he still wasn't over the stunt you pulled earlier, but he still came in and gave you a quick kiss.

The four of you spread out across the shallow water (Lo'ak reluctantly gave in to Tsireya's insistence on helping). When you brought your nets in, those who were preparing the food for the morning took over, and it gave those who helped with first catch a break before first meal.

Neteyam pulled you firmly by your hand back to your home, obviously eager to get you alone to resume what you had started earlier. You both headed back to your pod, and you couldn't help but smirk as he pulled you up to the more private pod above your living space. "We are going to need to go back out soon," you told him as you followed him up the net.

Neteyam didn't respond as he stepped up the ladder quickly in front of you. As soon as you stepped up into your room, he pulled you into a heated kiss. "Not until I'm done with you," he whispered in a low voice that made your heart quicken.

You smiled against his mouth as you wrapped your arms around him. He pressed forward, and you took a few steps back before moving to lay down. He followed after you eagerly and planted his hands on either side of your head. "I've spent all morning thinking about how to get back at you," he murmured as he gazed down at you. "I think I know just the way."

His lips moved down your neck, kissing the tattoo that now marked the skin there and reached down to connect to the tattoo on your chest. You hummed at his heated touch and at the promise of more. He moved his hands to trace down your body, causing your breathing to grow shaky. When he reached your thighs, he gently push them open, raising his head up from your neck to smile deviously.

Before he could make another move, a young voice called from below, "Neteyam!"

You both froze, and Neteyam closed his eyes and let out a frustrated sigh. You had to stifle a giggle at the poor timing of the situation and at Neteyam's clear aggravation at being interrupted for the second time that day. You both stayed quiet as you listened closely, praying that you could be alone.

"Neteyam!" The voice called again, more insistent this time, and you had no doubt who it was. Neteyam dropped his head against your shoulder and groaned softly in defeat before calling out, "Tuk, please, we are resting." You shot him a skeptical look and mouthed, "Resting?" He shrugged at you weakly, and you rolled your eyes.

The floor of your pod wobbled a little, indicating that Tuk was climbing up the net ladder. Neteyam quickly rolled off of you, and you turned your body away from him to seem as though you had actually been resting. In a few seconds, Tuk's head appeared, and she pulled herself up and into your pod.

"Why are you still sleeping?" She demanded to know. "Everybody is up already." You could hear the sigh Neteyam heaved before he replied, "We were up with the first catch. We just wanted to relax for a while before eating."

Tuk plopped down right between you and Neteyam, blissfully unaware of what she had interrupted. "You promised that you would help me make a new knife," she reminded her brother. The youngest Sully, though still a child, was quickly growing bigger and older, and she felt that she had outgrown her small dagger from the forest.

Neteyam sighed again and rubbed his hand over his face. "Tuk, the sun has not even been out for an hour," he pointed out. "We will get to it later." Tuk's shoulders slouched in disappointment. "You always get so busy in the day," she argued. "Please, can we work on it now?"

Neteyam closed his eyes for a moment, gathering his patience. "It will take a long time to make a new knife," he explained in a level voice. "It will not be finished for a while." You could see that all he wanted was for his sister to leave so that he could resume feeling your body under his. You wanted it too, but you knew arguing with Tuk was a losing battle.

"Come on, Neteyam," you said, nudging Tuk playfully. "Surely you can spare an hour to help her, at least to get it started." Tuk beamed at you and faced her brother eagerly and expectantly. Neteyam shot you a peeved look before closing his eyes again and muttering, "Fine, let's go."

Tuk sprang to her feet triumphantly as Neteyam sat up from the floor reluctantly. She didn't even bother checking that her brother was following her before she began climbing back down to your open living quarters. Neteyam moved much slower than she did, and before he headed down, he gave you one last, hot kiss that left you wanting more.

"I am definitely going to get you for that," he whispered in a restless voice. You smirked and replied in a silky voice, "Can't wait." His jaw clenched, and you knew he was fighting hard not to take you right then and there. With a huff, he pushed himself off the ground the follow after his sister.

They must've still been working by the time you went out to eat. Your eyes scanned the crowd, trying to find your mate's distinct hue amongst the rest of the people, but he was nowhere to be found. Instead, you noticed Tsireya and Lo'ak sitting together across from Aonung.

Walking over to join them, you raised a hand to your head in greeting toward Aonung, and he didn't hesitate to reciprocate the gesture. It took a long time for you to mend your relationship with him, and it had mended like a broken bone; it was functional, dependable even, but it will never be as strong as it once was, and when it came under strain, old pains would resurface.

What had helped most was when someone else was finally chosen to take the role you had abdicated. You knew from Tsireya that Tonowari and Ronal were much more conscious of giving Aonung a say in who would be his tsahik, and the woman he had chosen was confident and willing. Since then, his grudge against you and Neteyam had softened, but there would always be remnants of bitterness from him towards your mate for besting him in combat.

It wasn't long before Neteyam finally showed up with Tuk in tow. "Where have you been?" Tsireya asked Neteyam as he sat down at your side. With a small sigh, he answered, "Tuk insisted on starting her new dagger this morning."

Your friend smiled as she leaned her head against Lo'ak's tattooed shoulder. "How sweet," she said. With a coy smile, you agreed, "I think so, too." Neteyam shot you an unamused glare, and you had to look away to keep from giggling.

"I am going with a group to collect the reef clams," Tsireya informed you. "Would you like to come?" You considered her offer before nodding and saying, "I would love to." You enjoyed spending time in the reef, and with spending it with your friend made it even better.

After eating, you went with her to dive in the reef with the gill mantles on your back to give you breath. You began foraging through the dense sea grass to collect the reef clams that were scattered across the sea floor. The group was small, just you, Tsireya, and a couple others. You weren't sure how long you were out there before you were surprised by Neteyam appearing out of the corner of your eye.

'I came to help,' he signed to you when he saw your questioning face. You smiled at him. You knew he just wanted to spend time with you. He found a gill mantle and began searching for sea clams through the grass with the rest of your group.

You reached for another one but paused when you noticed the swaying leaves of sea nettle mingled amongst the grass around it. Regretfully, you left the clam where it lay, deciding that it wasn't worth the pain of getting stung. As you drifted away from the abandoned clam, Neteyam swam by and noticed it.

Either he didn't see the nettle or thought he could avoid it, but whatever the case, he reached his hand toward the clam. You looked back at him right as his arm flinched away from the nettle. His face immediately grimaced in pain, and you moved over to him in concern. It was difficult to inspect his arm clearly in the water, so you pointed up to the surface.

He understood instantly and nodded before kicking up to the surface with you. When you broke above the water, Neteyam inhaled sharply from the burning sting that ran from his hand all the way up his forearm. "Are you okay?" You asked as you pulled off your gill mantle from your back. With a bitter chuckle, he shook his head and muttered, "I didn't even see it."

You grabbed his hand to inspect it, but covered in water, it was difficult to see. An idea popped into your mind as you thought of how to help him.

"I have a little bit of the oil for stings," you told him with a sly smile. "I think we should go back home so I can take care of this." Despite the pain he was in, you could tell by his eyes that your words sparked his interest. "I think that is a good idea," he replied with a smirk.

You both swam back towards the beach without explaining to anyone why you were leaving. When you arrived back at your home, you crossed over to where you kept a small jar of the medicinal oil for his sting. Before you could even turn around, Neteyam snaked his uninjured arm around your waist and began kissing your neck from behind.

You couldn't help but sigh and lean back into him for a moment. "So impatient," you murmured with a smile. "I actually have the remedy for you." He sighed softly before reluctantly pulling away.

You turned to face him, and you gestured to the floor as a silent demand for him to sit down. Obediently, he moved to sit on the floor, and you followed suit across from him. You took his arm and began inspecting it for any remnants of the nettle.

"Touching sea nettle," you muttered in a chastising tone. "I thought you knew better than that." He still wore his smirk as he watched you examine his hand. "Do you remember the last time I touched nettle?" He asked.

You didn't take your eyes off of his hand as a smile tugged at your lips. "Of course, I do," you replied, still smiling. "That was the first time I met you." He hummed quietly, and you couldn't help but look up at his face. He was looking down at you tenderly, clearly replaying the memory from all those years ago when you sat across from him holding his hand exactly the way you were doing now.

"You were so beautiful," he said softly. "I couldn't stop staring." You rolled your eyes at him playfully and muttered under your breath, "Skxawng." You had heard this story before, but you never grew tired of listening to him retell how he fell in love with you.

You poured the oil over his hand and slowly began massaging his palm. As you worked, you reflected fondly on the first time you met Neteyam. You remembered how his obvious staring had flustered you a little, his eyes studying you silently as you rubbed your thumbs over his skin. He was doing it now, too.

"From that first day, I knew I was in trouble," he continued, the fingers of his free hand tracing over your leg softly. His touch sent chills over your body, and you looked up at him with a crooked grin. "And it got you into even more trouble eventually," you added pointedly, rubbing the oil up his forearm.

His lips pulled into a tender smile. "It was worth it," he replied softly, gazing into your eyes with adoration. "You were worth it. You were worth everything."

Even after three years together, he still managed to make you heart flutter with his words. You couldn't help but smile even more, and you pulled him forward by the arm in your hands and kissed him. It was sweet and loving, conveying every word you could say and every feeling that you felt.

His hands ran over your thighs softly before he grabbed your legs and pulled them towards him, causing you to fall softly backwards onto the floor with a startled laugh. Neteyam moved forward and hovered his body over yours as he kissed you passionately.

"Now, if you or anyone else interrupts," he muttered against your mouth, "I am going to lose my mind." You giggled as he continued moving his lips against yours. "People are going to notice that we're gone," you told him quietly, but you knew he didn't care. Neither did you.

He chuckled at you. "As long as they don't disturb us," he said, smirking down at you.

With a smile, you brought your arms up to wrap around him as he continued kissing you. You never tired of these moments with him. You never would. His love and devotion was constant, and though it had been difficult facing the initial backlash of choosing to leave your role, there was never a moment together that you regretted.

You closed your eyes and sighed in contentment as Neteyam moved his mouth down to kiss your jaw. He must have been able to tell you were lost in thought because he whispered, "What are you thinking about?"

With a smile, you replied, "You."

He hummed. "What about me?" He questioned in a low voice as he lazily kissed down your neck, and you could tell that he was smiling as he asked. You knew he was expecting a scandalous answer, but instead, you told him, "I'm thinking about how happy you make me."

His lips paused, and he moved his head to look back at you. He held your gaze as a gentle smile grew on his face, and he brought a hand up to hold your face. "That is all I ever wanted," he murmured reverently before kissing you again. You smiled against his mouth and let go of your thoughts as he began exploring your skin with his hands and his lips, eager to worship your body.

You closed your eyes to enjoy his sensual touch. You relished these moments, his sweet words and his body on yours. It was difficult to recall the time when he wasn't in your life, and it was even harder to imagine how it would have been without him. Now, you spent every day with the one you loved without the regret or guilt that had plagued you for so long. Happiness and peace had taken their places, and you found that Neteyam was right.

It was worth it

______

Taglist: @mashiromochi @eywas-heir @kafanizdakicokiyi @plzfeedmebread @afro-hispwriter @fanboyluvr @anm3mi @sadexact @peachinsomniac @fluroescentxadolescent @doulcha @crazy4books1 @im-in-a-pansexual-panik @thatonegirlwiththebeanie367 @alicetweven @sarasapen @nanapuddingisasimpformrballs @strawberryclouds22 @youcantseem3 @shayligames-blog @latelyislept @aonungsmate

[ancientgoddessofegypt]

WHAT MAKES YOU ROYALTY? AN INTUITIVE READING FOR THE LIGHT BRINGERS.

STAR READINGS WITH DEJA!

PICK A PILE. These are for all my girlies who know that their royalty ! No matter what. So From left to right is 1-2, 3-4. Lets go!

PILE 1 - 'The Royal Who Loves The World'

This Princess is all about being one with the earth. Shes connected to the universe and she is a giver & receiver of the divine. Her gorgeous energy is big, bold and beautiful. She has a creative energy that caters to the heart. Her vibe is priceless, no one can ever take it from her. She knows what she wants and she knows who she is. The undefeated. Her knowledge and expertise can train a million warriors to go for the goal. A master at the arts and just knowing of everything that is around her.

Bonus reading : LOVE ABOUNDS

Be thankful for who you are and where you come from. The opening of the heart is soaring & the world is coming to your favor. Trust it. It will all make sense in the future. But for now, be patient. You have a gift in bringing people together. So move closer to the divine and watch the destiny unfold. Never forget it, you we're always closer to divine.

PILE 2 - 'The Girl Who Always Knew She Was A Star'

There is a big, emotional energy coming from this group. Expressive auras and have bright joyous energy. There may have been a lot of lower energy that hovered over you as a child and over-exhausted your aura. But be thankful, because the story unfolds for you to become the Empress you always knew you'd be. Enjoying the fruits of all the past labors in your life have brought you to a point in reality where the unknown feels more fruitful than the linear one. You're wished reality is coming through the divine, spirit guides and answering to the codes they've let out for you. Try uncovering the number sequences you've been seeing. Go to an altar (you can make one yourself) and start prayer and meditation near that area. Focus on the number sequence and let go. The answer will come shortly after. Your heighten awareness of the divine comes from the true knowing of appreciating the seen and unseen roads. You are a beautiful gift to the clouds, my darling. So why let others tell you otherwise? You're a star. So be one.

Bonus Reading : LOVE ABOUNDS + MANIFEST

Okay, Cinderellas ;) You have to let go and make a wish in the clouds. You have to feel it in your soul and breathe life into it. Otherwise, it wouldn't work in your favor. The 'fairy god mother' you've dreamed of as a kid is the women in your life that look after you when no one else does. It could be an ancestor, a spirit guide or someone who is alive and cares for you in the best way that they can. All is well, do your part by making sure that you BELIEVE in the idea of what you desire and you will acquire it through surprised experiences. God Bless.

PILE 3 - 'The Moment You Have Been Waiting For'

Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thats the message that I'm hearing. Its like you looked up to the sky and thanked the universe for answering all of your prayers. You looked to the divine for the path and you found your kin. You found your new path and aligned with the greater forces of heaven to do the thing you've always wanted to do. At first you're awareness wasn't out there, you were 'asleep'. But wait. This was destiny coming in to perform a miracle for you, because you had no idea who was under the curtains trying to stop the show. You've guys have been waiting to receive a gift from the ethers on how to move & to proceed, but they didnt show up. Or did they? They listened, they watched, and they saw you working towards something. Working hard. Even if you felt like it wasn't enough, or you felt guilt about your situation. Shame, fear, etc.. All of this added to your rewards in the season to come. Just wait on it. Be yourself, the bright light that the world adores and enjoys even when you think nobody is listening or watching. You are the star of this finale! Congratulate yourself and be the royalty that you know you are.

Bonus Reading : 'A COSMIC FORCE'

So let me be real for a second, for this group the focus was more about what makes you stand out more than royal energy. You have gifts that take dedicated effort. So the energy I got for yall was that you have to let go and focus on what your heart wants. Then doors will open for you easier and in ways you had not seen coming. THATS your royalty. Your's come in through hard work and having drive.

PILE 4 - 'The Veil Is Thinning, And I Am The Surpreme'

Surprise. You've been gifted with a lifetime of golden energy shifting from the inside of your body. Your gift is in the reflection of your experience. Very interesting. So let me explain, You guys are wondrous beings who came here to help the new earth come into fruition. You have gifts that go unnoticed but are deeply felt, penetrating the people around you. The world is turning, and you are in motion with it. The world needs to feel as deeply as possible because this is Mama Earths dream. You are a reflection of what is truly magical about the creator and its beautiful creations. You carry an infinite watch that stops time from being an issue. You're the genius behind a lot of universal thinking, and we'll be the first to come to you and watch the show. You're honest, deep thinker and a vocalist. You carry the tunes and vibrations of the world and the energy you carry makes us like you even more. Dont hate. She's got the magic. This pile has a lot of work they must fulfill before they leave into the horizons. There's a special source in this group that is unmatched and hard to silence, hard to ignore. And thats what makes you a royal gem. My queens :)

Bonus Reading : 'Magic Meets The Eyes'

Because you have this gift of unseen worlds deep in your imagination, try creating outlets for this world to be seen or heard. Creative energy flows through your body and the inner child deserves to be healed, acknowledged and explored. Your mind is incredible and you should use every drop of creativity to make a canvas that can have the world stop and listen to what you have to say. Congrats, this is such a beautiful place to be in.

[cloverdaisies]

⋆⁺.CHRISTMAS LIGHTS ︶꒷꒦︶ ⁺₊❆⋆𐙚

⋆⁺. ︶꒷꒦︶ ︶꒷꒦︶ ︶꒷꒦︶ ₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆𐙚

➸ ⋆⁺. [⛸️] description: the city was lonely, as they say home is where the heart is. as you return to see your childhood friends for the annual christmas get together, old faces resurface unhealed wounds that you wish you could rewind. ₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆𐙚

➸ ⋆⁺. member: juyeon x you

➸ ⋆⁺. genre: angst to fluff

➸ ⋆⁺. word count: 2k+

the moors were covered in a glistening blanket of the whitest snow, the sky overcast with a light grey hue whilst the trees lonely and desolate of leaves hung themselves over the landscape perfectly.

you were nervous, a slight shake in your hands as the cars heating blasted warm air into the passenger seat, driving to the cabin bar where your old friends had organised the yearly christmas get together.

you’d moved away to the city after the last christmas, leaving your small countryside village behind - unwilling to settle for a manual labor job and stay in the country forever. you prioritised your ambition and career over a humble life readily paved out for you.

however, admittedly you’d missed the village, the city was nothing in comparison, the sense of community you’d lost, the friends you’d left behind, life wasn’t the same without them.

or should you say… him.

“we’re here, ma’am.” the taxi driver that had drove you all these miles announced, you gave him a smile and your thanks before telling him to have a lovely christmas as he drove off into the distance of the high street, strung with christmas lights and foliage.

the small pub where you’d grew up was bustling with laughter and joy, the faint melody of “fairytale of new york” by the pogues leaking from the wooden doors.

“y/n!” you heard someone yell your name, a joyful juhaknyeon running out the doors of the pub with a cigarette settled above his ear like a ballpoint pen. he was wearing the flat cap you’d bought him as a joke last christmas, his pint of guinness spilling from the sides clumsily as he was so excited to see you.

“haknyeon!” you exclaimed, running to give him a hug and took in the scent of his familiar cologne, mixed with a strong scent of booze. “i’ve missed you so much!”

“you’ve missed us? we thought you’d forgotten all about us!” he laughed jokingly hitting you on the back, as he walked you into the bar where all your other friends were sat around a large booth towards the back.

you’d greeted everyone with a smile, reuniting with kevin and jacob asking you all about your city life and the things you’d gotten up to since you’d left. the bar was full of old regulars, the floors were carpeted in the same shade of red with gold accents highlighting the room.

“yeah, it’s been a pretty busy year for me.” you laughed, unable to focus on the conversation. you looked around the pub, checked the bar, but he was nowhere to be found.

“you’re looking for him, aren’t you?” hyunjae asked, sat next to you with his new wife chatting away to another one of the boys’ girlfriends eagerly.

“yeah.” you sighed, feeling let down that he hadn’t shown up, which considering how you’d left things last year you weren’t surprised.

“don’t get too down about it yet, he’s missed you, i’m sure he’ll make an appearance at some point.” hyunjae smiled with reassurance, taking a short sip of his pint before chipping into the conversation his wife was having.

“how’s the electrics company going?” you asked haknyeon, taking your mind off the entire thing as he smiled and began trailing off about all of his work dramas.

⋆⁺. ︶꒷꒦︶ ︶꒷꒦︶ ︶꒷꒦︶ ₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆𐙚

it’d been 3 hours of chatting, catching up and laughter, however he still hadn’t shown up. the afternoon was soon turning evening, despite your belief in your ability to conceal your emotions, everyone noticed your solemn undertones - understanding why you weren’t in the greatest mood, considering the events of last christmas.

⋆⁺. ︶꒷꒦︶ ︶꒷꒦︶ ︶꒷꒦︶ ₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆𐙚

🎄🕰️: 25TH OF DECEMBER: LAST YEAR

christmas day was coming to a close, you still hadn’t broke it to him yet, the love of your life, that you were leaving the village in the beginning of january.

the boy who’s name was juyeon did everything a boyfriend usually would for you, you were in love in such a way that words couldn’t describe. he was a bricklayer in the town, living his life humbly hoping to give you the best life he could.

on the evening of christmas day, you’d been sat watching christmas films with him sat in his arms guiltily revising the city job offer you’d received just 3 days prior.

“y/n?” the boy next to you hummed “i have to tell you something.”

you looked up at his deep brown eyes with guilt, his white sweater complimenting his gold wristwatch and necklace.

“i have to tell you something too.” you replied exhaling a deep breath, his expression looking at you with so much love you’d almost choked on your words.

“you go first.” his hand gently brushing your spine, running up to your shoulder as you gulped nervously.

“i’ve been offered a job in the city.” you concisely formed the sentence, breaking the news off from your guilt heavy conscience.

“what?- you’re leaving?” his expression changed to an unclear frown, his eyes confused and almost hurt with the sudden news. “what about us?”

“i don’t know juyeon, but it’s an offer i can’t refuse.” you tried to explain your decision and at heart he already knew it was the best decision for you.

“it’s okay. just know if you ever want to come back and live here. I’m here for you.” he sighed, giving you a tight hug, his eyes glancing down to his pockets.

little did you know, there was another offer you wouldn’t have refused lying in there next to his car keys. a small crushed velvet box with a diamond ring, one he could never gift to you - since you were leaving for good. the crumpled speech he’d revised would later be littered with tear drops, his life crumbling apart.

🎄🕰️BACK TO PRESENT DAY

⋆⁺. ︶꒷꒦︶ ︶꒷꒦︶ ︶꒷꒦︶ ₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆𐙚

you got up to go get another drink from the bar, ordering a beverage to settle the nerves that tangled like knots in your stomach. the feeling of emptiness opening like a dark void in your conscience.

the pub doors opened, a familiar tall figure in a black trench coat stepping inside, the scent of a fresh cigarette lingering in the air, immediately turning your head to the scent of old spice and home.

he’d made it, his jet black hair, beautiful brown eyes all stood before you as he wiped his boots on the welcome matt, his jacket catching flakes of fallen snow.

your heart either shattered, or put itself back together - you couldn’t tell which as it was such an unclear feeling of overwhelming nature you’d never felt before.

he locked eyes with you, just for a few seconds as if he considered saying hello or running back out the door. taking hesitant steps towards the bar where you were.

“it’s lovely to see you again.” juyeon smiled slightly, battling internalised emotions he’d tried to avoid. leaning over the bar and avoiding the contact of your eyes which looked up at his face brightly.

“same goes for you. how have you been?” the confidence you’d tried to assert on your voice leaving only above a whisper.

“i can’t say i’ve been great.” he chuckled in an almost bittersweet way, running his fingers through his neatly styled hair with a sigh.

“that’s not good, i’m sure things will be better for you next year, at least i hope.” you tried to think of a kind response, instead probably coming across as the most patronising piece of shit in the process.

“i hope so too.” he smiled, as you collected your drink and turned around to see every single pair of your friends eyes gawking at the situation.

“can you guys make yourselves any more obvious?” you laughed placing your drink on the table in embarrassment and sitting back down next to hyunjae.

juyeon soon came to sit beside you, the group greeting him briefly and apologising for his lateness. he had work that day, you didn’t know how you’d forgotten being so caught up in your selfish little world.

“how is work?” you asked nervously as conversations resumed around you, the tension between the two of you building intensely.

“i got promoted to site manager.” he smiled, as you congratulating him with a laugh knowing how much he’d wanted to get that position.

“how’s the city?” he scratched the back of his neck, a nervous habit of his you’d picked up after years of knowing him.

“to be honest? not great. i miss home, i don't really have anyone there." you took a sip of your drink, eyes remaining on the polished wooden table with regret.

“well like i said you’re always welcome to come back.” he grumbled, looking around to everyone else’s conversations at the table, his eyes wandering to the christmas tree in the corner - coated in a thick gold tinsel with baubles strung messily across the tree.

“SPEECH. SPEECH. SPEECH.” The boys began chanting all of a sudden, taunting Sangyeon who appeared to be a little more tipsy than the rest his ears tinting a light a pink as he took a sip of his lager.

“Okay. Okay.” He calmed down their excitement before standing up in front of the the large table with his drink in hand. “First of all, I’d like to thank you all for coming this year and I think it’s important to address everyone’s hard work this year. I would like to thank Haknyeon for his persistence to plan this, I know we only all see each other driving past on our jobs but it’s refreshing to see you all face to face. Y/n thank you for travelling so far to see us, although things are different since you’ve been here last. It’s lovely to have everyone together. To a good christmas.” He raised his pint in the air as the boys howled in cheer, taking a sip and sitting back down in his place at the table.

“Thanks, Sangyeon. That was great.” You looked at the man across the table with a genuine smile, his gaze glancing between you and Juyeon before he returned the smile with ruddy cheeks.

As you began catching up with Younghoon, he seemed to bring up how he’d recently done a job for your parents, reinstalling their bathroom. The sound of their names resurfacing the guilt for leaving them.

“You sound like you need to come home.” Younghoon stated as he spotted tears welling at your waterline, quickly moving your hand to dab them away. You felt a hand gently touch your leg, containing yourself from jolting backwards in shock, you discreetly looked down to find Juyeon’s hand gently caressing your leg - something he used to do a lot to calm you down in public if you felt a bit nervous.

“I probably do.” You giggled slightly, a nervous hiccup triggering a laugh of adoration from Juyeon.

“Do it. Come home, I need a copywriter for my company.” Haknyeon looked across the table genuinely, turning heads with the statement.

“Really?” You looked at your phone slightly, (25) missed calls from your boss glowing on the screen since he’d been trying to call you in.

“Of course.” He laughed jovially in reply, sliding his phone across the pub table to show you the post for a copywriter he’d listed on a job site. “The pay probably isn’t as much as you currently make, but it might mean you get to come home and when my company expands I’m sure that will change.”

You smiled at Haknyeon, considering the post in your head. Did you really want to come home? Would you be really losing that much money with the prices of living in the city?

“Honestly-” The bell for last drinks at the bar sounded, as the boys cheered it was time for home, the bar soon closing. Everyone got up to leave, saying their goodbyes with hugs and words of sentiment for each other.

“Well, until next year.” Juyeon laughed, bittersweetly walking you out to the the sheltered entrance where the cab that would soon drive you back to city was parked it’s engine growling, it’s lights brightly shining on to the cobbled high streets.

“I don’t think.. I want to leave.” You felt your eyes beginning to water again, the thought of going back to the loneliness of the city taunting you at the back of your mind.

“Then stay. There’s a job here for you-” Juyeon erratically told you, the cigarette he’d freshly lit falling to to his sides with his arms.

“It’s not that, Juyeon. I got such an amazing opportunity in the city-” You began to argue, thinking of how amazing the job offer was in the city, installed with the false hope of climbing up the ladder and becoming an important figure to a significant company.

“But you heart is here. You want home, you know you do. So don’t waste that opportunity to be here again. Don’t walk out on me again.” He begged you, a strand of his jet black hair falling in front of his face, his eyes sparkling down on you with diamonds of hope glistening in his irises.

“I love you. I still do.” He suddenly came out with the statement, stunning your speech, knowing at heart he wasn’t trying to sabotage your career he just wanted your happiness; he wanted you back.

The mistletoe hung above you ironically, snow beginning to fall lightly the temperature dropping, however the feeling of warmth and comfort keeping you cozy in the small entrance way to the pub. Juyeon looked up to observe the plant hanging above you, before leaning in to touch his lips to yours, sealing a kiss that asserted so much passion almost his final beg to get you back.

As you parted, his hand resting against your cheek, you quickly broke and began sprinting towards the cab looking back at him, he stared in shock and defeat as he saw you looking back with watery tears.

“I’m going back to get my stuff.” You yelled to him, ready to return to the city and bring your things back to the place you belonged. He dashed over to you in the snow, immediately dropping the burning cigarette in his hand to embrace you in the tightest hug he’d ever given you.

“Keep the bed warm for me in the morning.” You laughed, causing him to smile, a singular tear of vulnerability falling down his cheek as he looked down at you with amounts of love you’ve never felt before.

“I will. I’ll start putting the christmas tree up too, ready for you.” He joked back, the smile on his face shining as if he’d never smiled since you were last with him. You quickly jumped to give him a final kiss, a fire relighting in your stomach as if it was the best feeling in the world.

“See you soon.” He opened the cab door for you, closing it as you got in safely, not forgetting to give you a peck on the cheek before gently closing the door.

As the snow fell across the village and street lamps lit up the small high-street stores you grew up around, an onlooker smiled in his flat cap having watched the whole scene with his cigarette and guinness in hand. His plan to bring everything back together had worked and would be reveal it to anyone? Of course not. Haknyeon chuckled, drinking the last of his pint before walking to Juyeon, the two walking the high street home laughing and joking as if everything had never changed.

⋆⁺. ︶꒷꒦︶ ︶꒷꒦︶ ︶꒷꒦︶ ₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆𐙚

a/n: hi daisies! i’m yet to proofread this so cut me slack for any grammatical errors. this took me so long and i hope you love this little world as much as i do. merry christmas 🤍

[hanbin-s-ssi]

ménage à trois || Lee Jeno x Yoo Jimin x Na Jaemin (s)

content: threesome, double penetration, pet names, degradation if you squint | established relationship, polyamorous relationship | sex toys, exhibitionism

pairings: idol!jeno x idol!karina x idol!jaemin

words: 1k

a/n: thank you @notjuniper for the request and for your patience ! I hope this helps to forget abt exams for a little while <3

-☘️-

‘Slow down, pretty,’ the words tumbled off of Jaemin’s lips and onto Jimin’s in a breathless clash of lips and tongues as she continued to grind her hips into him, his playful taunting falling on love drunk ears and making her insides flutter. Hardly anything could snap her out of it when she got like this; emboldened by a bit of soju and soft music that was only just loud enough to cover the sounds of her wet pussy lips kissing his pelvic bone.

And an audience of one.

Jaemin’s fingers knot around her gorgeous hair at the back of her head and pull her lips away from his just as he applies pressure to the jeweled plug nestled inside her ass. The sounds she makes almost make him want to beg her to be exclusive again.

‘Jeno, come here,’ Jaemin calls from across the room where the man in question was stood frozen in the doorway. It’d been so long since the last time they’d gotten to share her at the dorm.

So long since they could really take the time to pull her apart. Suddenly, Jeno was so glad he’d opted out of video games as he crossed the hall into his friend’s room, leaving the door ajar as he found it. She looked so good on top of him, the string panties she was wearing pushed aside and her pretty blush cardigan hanging from her arms, her only pieces of clothing as she straddled his waist, stuffed full of his friend and his favorite, pink heart-shaped butt plug. Jaemin’s fingers were sunken into the soft flesh of her ass, ceasing her bouncing and the sticky sound with it immediately.

Jimin’s labored breathing shook her body atop his and she wrapped her arms around his neck, dark eyes staring at his immaculate profile and smile as he stared only at Jeno, transfixed. Jaemin’s hand came down from her head and slid the plug free from her taut orifice easily, her body shaking again, ears and cheeks burning as she considered her position; the entirety of her sure to be on display. There was hardly time to feel self conscious— he was already moving again.

Slowly, deliberately Jaemin grabbed her hips and began to pull out of her, keeping her open and bare, presenting her as if an offering so Jeno could watch him slide all the way out until only the tip of him was nestled between her folds. The movement was an anchor pulling Jeno’s jaw to the floor and his dick to the sky. He was parched, his control like fine porcelain on a precarious slope.

‘I prepped her for you, but only with the plug. I know how you get when you don’t get to have her first,’ Jaemin whispered, making her skin buzz with anticipation, her fingernails curving into the skin of his shoulders. Jeno’s ears rung with the sound of breaking glass and he moved. There was rustling behind her, a loud thud like Jeno had maybe tripped and then there was a third hand on her ass, cooler and rough, squeezing the flesh on the back of her thighs and running over her skin obsessively. Another set of fingers lightly brushed over her taut entrance, teasingly applying pressure every now and again.

Jimin thought she was sobbing but she couldn’t quite remember if her cheeks had been wet before Jaemin’s teasing. Back when he was begging to worship her.

‘You don’t have to be gentle,’ Jaemin instructed, still staring at Jeno, enamored. He moved one hand off her ass to allow his friend room to grope and squeeze and stroked the back of her head soothingly. ‘You can take it, can’t you, baby?’ He looked down at her then,—eyes full of playful, sinful mischief— to observe Jimin’s eager nod.

She felt the full thickness of Jeno slide into her ass, the two sighing, deep and guttural, Jeno’s beautiful face twisting in pleasure, fingers gripping her waist as if to bruise and Jimin pressing her face into Jaemin’s neck as she was pushed right back down into his length entirely.

Full was a couple dozen muscle spasms ago.

Jeno started to move, perfect hips picking up speed and snapping sharply into the soft flesh of her ass as he drove her muscle apart like it was his only goal. It almost always was since they started training her to take him and he couldn’t ever be prouder of the way she tried to push back into his thrusts, meeting him halfway each time, like she wasn’t a sputtering, crying mess between them, a smile sliding across his lips.

‘That’s it.’ Jaemin encouraged, putting pressure on her lower back so she ground into his pelvis again when she threw her hips back. His eyes fell briefly to where Jeno was disappearing inside her, suddenly a little jealous. He could feel her drip onto his balls. Jeno’s fingers curled over her slight shoulder, unpeeling her from Jaemin and bringing his lips to her ear, pulling her arms back, eyes snapping to the boy’s under her and holding his gaze as he fed her praises and threats and epithets and curses.

‘Fuc— nngh,’ Jaemin drawled, eyes sliding shut as he drowned in the effects Jeno had on Jimin’s perfect body. He could feel her insides flutter and soften and slicken around his girth, making his hips buck up into her warmth, falling into rhythm with Jeno’s sharp thrusts. Her plump lips and cheeks shiny and rouged from all of it, her breasts swaying hypnotically above him as the two of them fucked her open. She was still so pretty even with her long hair fully a mess, strands sticking to her wet skin. Jaemin sucked his teeth to himself, running a hand over her collarbone, the valley between her breasts, her rib cage as she rocked into them, muscles spasming. He wondered how they would manage to pry themselves off of her.

[pilesofpillows]

Stars Aglow Ch. 3 || Okoye x Attuma

A Sea of Stars ~ Part 3 of 3

Ch. 1 • Ch. 2

Summary: Babies.

Warnings: Semi-Graphic Depictions of Childbirth, An Excessive Amount of Fluff, Seriously... I Hope Y'all Got Good Dental Insurance, And Tissues

Tags: @mamajankyy @theeblackmedusa @theemfingmenace @xenokattz @tvreadsandsleep @ariyannah @iccedays @xblackreader @blissdoutbyattuma @karimk2 @umber-cinders @mickimomo @dontruinmymorning @princess-of-gondor

A/N 1: Pinky swears are very serious things that I take very seriously. This chapter is a behemoth of nearly 5k words... ridiculous.

A/N 2: Massive, huge, ridiculous, enormous thank you to @xenokattz for all your help!! Love you forever 💕💕💕

The Amnio was brilliant. 

When she’d first told them about it, Shuri had made it out to be a simple birthing chamber, but it was far more than that. She had converted an entire floor on the lower level of the Citadel’s residential tower into a birthing suite of dreams, complete with an operating room, a miniature neonatal ICU, and a near-exact replica of Okoye’s upstairs apartment with an added nursery for their post-delivery stay.

The main space was wide and cavernous, with a wall of windows that allowed the sun to illuminate the room and provided an incomparable view of the night sky. At its center was a circular in-ground pool with a series of wide ledges that helped accommodate varying depths within the water. Four holographic displays lined half of the pool, one for each baby and the last for her, their vitals being monitored by the patches affixed to her stomach. 

Okoye kneeled on the second step below the outer ledge of the pool, her forearms folded across her mother’s knees as she breathed heavily, panting through the latest contraction. She’d been in the water for hours now, the night dragging on as her body prepared to deliver her children into the world. Her head was bowed, resting on her arms, her face twisted in a grimace as the labor pains reached a new height. Attuma kneeled behind her, massaging her submerged lower back and stomach while her mother cradled her head, murmuring words of comfort. Nakia and Ayo bracketed her mother, both coaxing her through breathing exercises in soft voices.

Nakia’s fingers entangled with hers. “You’re almost there, usisi. So close now.”

Okoye did not feel close. Each contraction felt like an hours-long battle, challenging everything she thought she knew about pain. What started as a dull ache in her lower back rose to a roaring fire as her muscles constricted tightly, stealing the breath from her lungs. She fought to regulate her breathing, exhaling forcefully in a loud groan.

“Good, intombi,” Her mother praised, dabbing the sweat from her brow. “You’re doing so good. It won’t be much longer.”

She heard Ixtli and the nurses who’d accompanied her singing beneath the water, a wordless melody of highs and lows in time with the waves of pain crashing over her. Attuma and Namora joined them, and she sighed gratefully as each note eased the sharp bite of the cramping across her lower body. Thank Chaac and Bast for Talokanil siren singers. 

An early point of contention in her pregnancy had revolved around whether they would observe Wakandan or Talokanil traditions when the time for her delivery came. She and Attuma had argued relentlessly about it until Namora suggested a merger of the two traditions; Okoye would deliver their children on the surface, in the water, with a Talokanil midwife and a Wakandan obstetrician. That Namora's mother happened to be an iyom k'exelom was a happy coincidence, and Okoye couldn’t be more grateful to the woman and her melodious analgesic. 

As the contraction passed, Okoye whimpered as she felt Attuma move to her left, missing his presence immediately. She pulled her fingers from Nakia’s and unfolded her arms, reaching for him desperately. Attuma leaned in close, holding her hand in his, and pressed his nose to her cheek, muttering a string of reassurances and praises in both their mother tongues.

She wanted him closer.

Ixtli surfaced, rebreathers firmly affixed to her face and gills, informing them that her body was ready. It was time to push.

She needed Attuma. 

Using what little strength she had, Okoye used the stair above her and her beloved’s shoulder to support herself as she sat back on her knees. 

“K’iino’?” Attuma’s voice was wary, trying to gauge her intent as he sat up with her. 

“Behind me, please? I just… I need…” Okoye didn’t know how to adequately verbalize what she was feeling.

Thankfully, she didn’t have to; Attuma wrapped his arms around her, shifting them gingerly until his back was flush with the outer ledge of the pool, only their legs remaining beneath the water. Her back rested on his chest, skin-to-skin; their hearts beat in tandem, soul-to-soul. 

“Good?” he whispered against her ear, and Okoye nodded, a stray tear slipping down her cheek. This was everything she wanted, everything she needed.

“Don’t leave me?” she pleaded. 

“Never, in K’iino’,” came his fierce response.

Her family corralled around them. Ayo, Namora, and Shuri stood on the outer edge of the pool, each holding a different colored blanket for their corresponding godchild, ready to carry them from the water after they were born. Her mother and Nakia stood on either side of her and Attuma, grabbing her hands and helping her into a low squat.

Namora’s mother crouched between her legs, gently cradling her belly. “Are you ready, Nacom?”

Okoye gave a hoarse hum of approval and steeled herself. She was tired and terrified, but they were at the end now; the battle was almost won.

“When the pain comes again, listen to your body and bear down,” she instructed. The Talokanil midwife looked contemplative for a moment and pressed on the lower right side of her distended abdomen. “This one first, hm? He’s ready.”

Okoye wanted to question her, but the force of her contraction punched the air out of her, and she clamped her jaw shut. The urge to push came, and she did as she was told, a long groan escaping her gritted teeth as she bore down. Long agonizing seconds passed before Ixtli stopped her, letting Okoye catch her breath before commanding her to push again. 

Her mother and Nakia spoke quiet words of encouragement as she labored, and she squeezed their hands as they continued on in the arduous cycle of pushing and breathing. Attuma blew softly on her head between each push, extolling her strength and courage as he urged her to keep fighting. 

Ixtli ducked her head under the water quickly and resurfaced with a chuckle. “Uts ka a k'iino' yanak ti' juntúul paal il le eek'o'obo'. [It is fitting that your Sun would have one who looks to the stars.]” she said to Attuma in rapid Mayan, GRIOT translating for the room to hear. 

“What- what does that mean?” Okoye asked, leaning back on Attuma’s shoulder, breathless. “Are they okay?”

“The baby is fine, General. He’s just facing the wrong way,” Dr. Langeni waded over from the fetal monitors, placing a reassuring hand on her knee as she explained. “It’ll make things a bit harder, but we’re watching carefully, and if we need to intervene, we will.” She nodded over to the wall of glass partitions on the right side of the room, behind which lay the operating room and NICU. “For now, just focus on letting your body do what it was meant to.”

Ixtli nodded, confirming her counterpart’s words, and when the next contraction struck, Okoye bore down again, her groan ending in a sharp cry as she felt the burning stretch of her son crowning. 

“Dudula, Okoye!” “Yiza, emnandi, tyhala.” Nakia and her mother spoke words of encouragement, urging her to push, and squeezing her hands back as she tightened her grip on theirs.

The Talokanil nurses had resumed their song, and their voices grew in pitch as Okoye pushed again, a low scream erupting from her throat. The feeling of something giving way was followed by a rush of relief flooding her, and she collapsed against Attuma’s body. He peppered kisses onto her forehead, praising her strength and wiping the tears from the corners of her eyes. Gasps of awe and resounding echoes of praise came from everyone around them, but Okoye only had eyes for the tiny, screaming baby in Ixtli’s arms. The midwife stood and laid her son on her chest, and she instinctively cradled his small body even as the elder woman used a soft towel to wipe him down. 

Her son. 

Wriggling and squalling and hers.

Theirs.

Attuma’s hand rested over hers, his chin over her shoulder as they took in the new life they’d made together.

They had a son.

“Molo, mntanandini. [Hi, sweet baby.]” she whispered as his cries softened. 

He was magnificent. 

Ixtli wrapped her firstborn in a towel, plucking him from her chest, and passed him to Shuri, who stood ready, having swapped places with Nakia to receive her godson. Okoye smiled weakly as the princess beamed at the baby. 

“Molo, mncinane,” she murmured, gathering the small boy in a yellow woven blanket, “I’m your Aunt Shuri.”

Okoye craned her neck, watching closely as her sister carried him out of the water to the designated team of nurses and doctors ready to check him over. She winced as the smarting ache washed over her, despite her rush of joy. She felt the urge to push again, and it seemed her son’s twin was more than ready to join the world. 

“He will come easier; his brother has made the path clear.” Ixtli said, once again pressing on her abdomen. “Now push, child.”

Attuma sat them both up, and Nakia rejoined her, grasping her hand fiercely as her mother did the same on the opposite side, the three of them helping to support her body as she bore down yet again, and they re-entered the cyclical pattern of pushing and breathing. The singing resumed with her efforts, but the song was different this time. Through the haze, Okoye made out the words to a familiar chant from the River Tribe, sung in perfect harmony by the nurses and Namora. Even Attuma sang with them, his voice a gentle rumble against her back. Her eyes darted to Nakia, who grinned at her as they sang the steady, cadenced tune. 

Letting the song strengthen her, Okoye braced herself for the next wave.

She pushed.

And groaned.

 And pushed again.

A burning flash drew a harsh cry from her lips, and her second child entered the world, as quiet as his brother was loud. 

She held him to her chest, marveling at his scrunched face and soft cries. He was smaller than his brother but no less wriggly. 

Another son.

Perhaps Attuma was right, she thought with a tearful laugh. 

Her second son settled quickly, gazing back at her with Attuma’s dark, wide eyes. 

He was beautiful.

Like they did with their first, Okoye and Attuma cradled their secondborn son together. “Okoye… in yakunaj… two...” His voice was choked with emotion, but she understood perfectly what he meant.

They had children. 

Two children. 

Two sons.

She cooed down at him, welcoming him to the world in a hushed whisper as Ixtli wiped him down before gingerly passing her son to Namora. The Talokanil general wrapped her secondborn in a blue blanket Okoye’s mother had woven, whispering sweet words to him in Mayan. Okoye settled back against Attuma, watching as her friend carried her baby out of the water, passing him to the team of nurses and doctors waiting to ensure he was hale and healthy.

“Rest now. The next will not be so easy,” Ixtli said, drawing their attention back to her. “The youngest rarely is.” She shot a pointed look toward Namora, who scoffed from the medical bay, making Okoye laugh weakly. “Let your body work to expel the afterbirth while I consult the stars for your first two children. I will return when it is time.” She cupped Okoye’s cheeks, touching their foreheads together. “You have done well, Nacom Okoye. Chaac and Ix Chel have blessed you with the strength of a thousand warriors.”

She smiled tiredly and thanked her. The Talokanil midwife exited the pool, and Dr. Langeni followed, promising to bring an update on the children when she returned. 

Okoye looked at her mother. She was crying, tears of joy, Okoye presumed, and she blinked, a few tears slipping down her own cheeks. “Don’t cry, mama.”

She reached out a hand, and her mother took it, squeezing her fingers gently. “I can’t help it, emnandi. It’s not every day a woman becomes a grandmother; I should think I’m entitled to a few tears,” her mother sniped jokingly, and they shared a quiet laugh. She leaned forward to kiss Okoye’s cheek. “Oh, I’m so proud of you, intombi. You did wonderfully.” She kissed Attuma’s cheek as well. “You both did.” 

Okoye grinned, then winced slightly as her body continued laboring. The contractions were far milder than her earlier ones, and one of the Talokanil nurses rubbed her ankle in encouragement, speaking words she couldn’t understand. Attuma murmured the translated instructions and a steady stream of compliments between light kisses to her head and hair, and the afterbirth passed easily, requiring little effort on her part. 

She lay in the cradle of Attuma’s arms, glancing intermittently at the medical bay where her children rested. Okoye itched to hold them, to study their faces and catalog the pieces of her and Attuma in every feature. Nakia passed her a cup of ice chips, and she shot her sister a grateful smile, chewing them carefully between her contractions. She was slightly relieved for the short rest before their third child was born. She chose not to ask how Ixtli knew there would be time between the twins and their thirdborn or how she knew her children would be boys before their birth; the woman had forgotten more about childbirth than Okoye would likely ever know. 

Dr. Langeni returned and had a quick GRIOT-assisted conversation with one of the Talokanil nurses before wading over to Okoye. “Molo, umama, baba,” she said with a soft smile. “Everything is looking good; both boys are hale, healthy, and quite possibly the cutest newborns above or below the surface. You did very good,” the doctor chuckled with a wink. She pressed a button on her kimoyo beads, activating a holographic display of her womb. Her lips twisted in a frown, and she sighed. “It looks like Baby C is still transverse. Which means we have two options: we can attempt to maneuver them in hopes that they turn on their own, or we go in for a C-section now. Should they prove reticent despite the maneuvers,” she paused, arching a pointed brow at them, “we’ll have to go in surgically.”

Okoye narrowed her eyes at the implication but couldn’t argue. Be it a maternal or paternal trait, headstrong children were a given between her and Attuma, and she was already praying for the strength and patience to match wits with whichever aspects of herself would be reflected in her children.

“How long would we try the maneuvers for?” she asked, shifting against her beloved and placing a hand over the monitoring patch of her youngest.

Dr. Langeni turned to the displays outside the pool, studying the remaining monitor. “Should Baby’s heart rate remain within acceptable parameters and the placenta intact? We’ll say 20 minutes.”

Okoye nodded and glanced at Attuma, silently asking him to weigh in. 

He tilted his head, looking contemplative. “It is up to you, in K’iino’. I will be by your side no matter what you choose.”

Her heart fluttered, warmth flooding through her at his words, knowing he meant them wholly. She pressed her head into his chin and considered each option before taking a fortifying breath. “Let’s try the maneuvers.”

~~~

In the darkest hours of the morning, Okoye’s youngest child finally decided to cooperate with the efforts of the medical team. They’d guided the baby downward between her contractions, firm hands pushing hard through her abdomen. She grit her teeth through every attempt and nearly regretted her choice on a particularly hard press. The Talokanil surrounding her had resumed singing the euphoric analgesic of earlier, dulling the sharp pain, and Okoye groaned, breathing heavily. Attuma blew cool breaths along her head again, providing an anchor of solace in the sea of pain, but her relief proved temporary as her muscles tightened in a fierce contraction.

 Ixtli had returned shortly before they began; she and Dr. Langeni worked in tandem, the Wakandan doctor maneuvering the baby while the Talokanil midwife swam beneath her, singing a soft siren call to draw the child down. Ixtli resurfaced, a visible smile showing through her rebreather, and she proclaimed it was finally time to push. Okoye sighed gratefully, thanking the gods. Dr. Langeni gave her an encouraging smile and waded to the side of the pool with her mother, Nakia, and Ayo. Okoye slid forward, squatting low on the step below Attuma, her chest and head remaining above water. He slid his arms under hers, helping her to brace her elbows on his knees.

“One last battle, Nacom,” her iyom k’exelom said, giving her knees a reassuring squeeze, “Let us see what the dawn brings.”

The woman sank beneath the water, and Okoye sucked in a deep breath as she felt the next contraction roll into her. 

She pushed hard, biting back a scream, until Ixtli squeezed her calf, commanding her to stop. She leaned against Attuma, who spoke words of comfort and praise between blowing cool breaths of air on the crown of her head, each breath meant to hasten the delivery of their child. She rested for a moment before the Talokanil midwife’s head surfaced, coaxing her to push again, and they fell into a steady rhythm: Okoye pushed, Attuma blew, and Ixtli coaxed. 

Again and again, until she felt like she couldn’t anymore.

She sagged between Attuma’s legs, her head thrown back as tears ran down her face.

“Ko'ox, Bah’te. K'a'abéet a ba'ate'el! [Come on, Warrior. You must fight!]” Ixtli urged in a stern voice. “We’re nearing the end, Okoye; Yaantal a to'on jolkanil.”

Find your courage. 

Bast help her; Okoye didn’t know how much she had left.

She screwed her eyes shut before opening them to meet the deep umber of Attuma’s. They shone with love and pride, and he bent to kiss her forehead. “Ngakumbi kancinci [Just a little more], in yakunaj,” he whispered against her sweat-slicked skin. “Ungayenza. [You can do it.]”

 She looked into the eyes she loved beyond all measure and found her courage.

The next contraction ripped through her, and Okoye tucked her head into her chest and bore down, crying out at the searing flash of white-hot pain.

Ixtli dipped back into the water, coaxing her through a final round of pushing, their youngest child slipping free of her body as the sun broke over the horizon.

Okoye cried in relief, her body slumping from exhaustion, and Attuma hauled her into his arms. Ixtli emerged from the water, holding a small baby who began wailing seconds after tasting the air.

“A son?” she asked, a weak smile on her lips.

Ixtli grinned, a fierce, proud thing. 

“The Dawn has brought you a daughter,” she proclaimed, laying the baby on her chest.

Okoye clutched the small body, her daughter, to her, blinking in shock. Faintly, she heard the excited exclamations of her family, but her focus was solely on the tiny, wailing infant on her breast. She let out a shaky breath, staring at her daughter in awe.

She had a daughter.

Okoye held her close as she screamed, wondering how one so small could make so much noise. 

She put her brothers to shame. 

Okoye laughed as hot tears ran down her face, gently attempting to shush the squalling infant while Ixtli cleaned her. 

She was perfect.

Attuma laid a large hand on her back, nearly covering her entire body, humming the lullaby he sang throughout her pregnancy, and they marveled as she quieted almost immediately, her robust cries softening to hushed whimpers.

“K Eek'e' asab chichanen. [Our littlest star.]” Her beloved murmured, smoothing his finger over her furrowed brow.

Their youngest grizzled, nose crinkling.

“Welcome to the world, ntomba ethandekayo.”

Ixtli swaddled their daughter in a towel and placed her in Ayo’s arms, her sister-in-arms greeting the child warmly, wrapping her in the soft green blanket Okoye’s mother had woven for their third child. “Good morning, little one. Today is your birthday.”

She exited the water gracefully, speaking to the baby in full sentences, making Okoye chuckle despite her exhaustion. She watched through half-lidded eyes as the final team of nurses and doctors engulfed their baby girl. As their daughter was tended to, Attuma pressed long, tender kisses to her head, muttering an incomprehensible jumble of praise and thanks between each one. 

“Óoxtúul paalal [Three children], in yakunaj,” he said into her hair. “Ts'o'ok a taasik to'on óoxp'éel… [You have brought us three…]”

“Three stars,” Okoye replied softly. “Our own little sea."

~~~

They moved her from the water to a large bed once she passed the afterbirth, and she lay reclined against Attuma, clean, changed, and content. They talked quietly with her mother and Dr. Langeni about what to expect these next few days as they waited for Ixtli, the trio, and their godmothers. Okoye’s exhaustion was bone deep, but she wouldn’t sleep a wink until she had held each of her babies. Nakia slipped into the room, having ducked out earlier to retrieve the rest of their family. She led M’Baku, Yoltzin, and Aneka in, Junior still sleeping in the early morning hours. They stood at the end of the bed, smiles abounding.

Attuma’s mother came to their bedside, pressing her forehead against Okoye’s, then Attuma’s. “Ki'imak óolal, waal. [Congratulations, daughter],” Yoltzin said, grinning brightly. These weren’t her first grandchildren, but they were her eldest son’s, and she’d been giddy with joy the moment Attuma had informed her of Okoye’s pregnancy. She rounded the bed to stand beside Okoye’s mother, the new grandmothers embracing each other. 

“Three babies in one night! You truly are Wakanda’s greatest warrior,” M’Baku smiled proudly, gently squeezing her ankle through the bedding. “Where are the little shark pups?”

His question was answered by the sliding door, and Ixtli entered the room on quiet feet with Shuri, Namora, and Ayo trailing behind her. Each woman held a brightly swaddled bundle in their arms, and they formed a line by her right bedside. 

Shuri passed the baby in her arms to Ixtli, who unwrapped him slightly and placed him on the far right side of Okoye’s exposed chest. “This is your firstborn. A son who looked upon the stars as he entered the world, a war cry on his tongue. What name will you give to him?”

Okoye looked at her eldest son, whose eyes were closed as he slept peacefully, tiny brown fingers curling into her skin. The small yellow cap on his head hid most of his hair, but Okoye could see the gentle wisps that curled along his forehead. She lifted his small hand with her finger, an awed breath leaving her as he gripped it firmly. 

He looked like Attuma. 

Her beloved carefully traced the soft fuzzy hair of his son’s brow and answered Ixtli. “T’Khwezi Cadmael.”

The Star Chief.

Okoye heard Shuri and Yoltzin gasp quietly, and she glanced between her little sister and Attuma’s mother. Both women’s eyes were watery, and Okoye reached out, entangling her fingers with Shuri’s. She squeezed, providing a gentle reassurance, and nodded to Yoltzin. Neither T’Challa nor Cadmael would ever be forgotten; their spirits lived on through them. Shuri smiled tearfully, muttering a wet thanks before releasing her fingers, and Yoltzin hugged Attuma briefly. The princess slid from her place in line, crossing behind Namora and Ayo to stand with the rest of their family at the foot of the bed. 

“This is your secondborn. A son born beneath the Great Weaver, swift and sure of his path.” Ixtli lifted their son from Namora’s arms and placed him on the right side of Okoye’s chest. “What name will you give to him?”

Okoye gazed down at her son, watching him nuzzle into her skin. His skin was warm, and his body was heavier than she expected. He looked nearly identical to his brother; the deeper cleft of his chin was the only difference she could see between them. Like his siblings, their son had thin, dark lines along his collarbones, alluding to the presence of gills. Dr. Langeni had already confirmed that the organs were vestigial and had no function. Her children were blessed with the ability to respirate air through their lungs and water through their skin, much like the King of Talokan.

The first to be born between the land and sea, her children represented the cementing of the Wakandan/Talokanil alliance. The two nations were connected by blood, woven together by love. Her son required a name that fit their future. 

“Chii’kaan B’atz’,” Okoye said after a moment.

The Feathered Serpent Weaver.

Attuma cupped her face gently, looking deep into her eyes. “K’iino, are you certain?”

Her beloved knew there was no love lost between her and his king. It had taken time for her to tolerate his presence in Birnin Zana, never mind their home. Okoye hadn’t even called him K’uk’ulkan until she reached her second trimester of pregnancy. To honor him in this way was a step beyond, but in order for their nations to grow strong together, grace was necessary. She would never forget, and likely never forgive, but the past was immovable and unchangeable. They could only go forward.

“I’m sure” Okoye nodded. “We are bound by blood, my love. Our children are equal parts, Wakandan and Talokanil. We must honor both as we move forward.”

Attuma’s eyes melted with her declaration, and he kissed her forehead, her nose, then her lips softly. “Ndiyakuthandana, Okoye.”

Okoye smiled and returned his kiss, just as soft. “In yaakunech, Attuma.”

“The mother of your children is a wise woman, Nacom. K'a'abet a sutk'esiko'ob le ti' a watan,” Ixtli said with a sharp grin.

Okoye didn’t understand everything the iyom k’exelom said, but she did know watan. Wife.

She and Attuma shared a knowing smile.

We will be married when in K’iino’ is ready to have a husband again. That’s what he’d told her mother. 

She never thought she would have another husband, not after the bitter betrayal she’d faced. She hadn’t thought she could tie her soul to another man before Attuma. She hadn’t thought she could love someone so wholly, so thoroughly that she felt incomplete without them as she did with Attuma. He held her heart; married or not, their souls were irrevocably bound. 

“Tu k'iinili' [In time],” her beloved responded with a sly smirk.

Ixtli nodded and turned to Ayo, lifting their youngest from her arms. Like she’d done with the other two, the Talokanil midwife unwrapped the baby and laid her on Okoye’s chest, right between her brothers.

“This is your thirdborn. A daughter born at the dawn's breaking, ushering in victorious joy. What name will you give to her?”

Okoye craned her neck down to stare at the smallest of the three curled against her chest and felt her heart sing. She was their unexpected gift, a joyful surprise after the birth of two boys.

She looked at Attuma, who’d been so certain they would have three sons, they hadn’t bothered to discuss what they might name a girl. He looked just as baffled as she felt. Carefully considering Ixtli’s words, Okoye smiled down at her daughter, who grizzled and grunted even while she slept. 

“Ixazaluoh.”

Yoltzin’s water-distorted voice spoke from the other side of the bed, offering up the name. 

Attuma hummed and placed his hand on their daughter’s head. “It means ‘dawn,’” he explained lowly. 

Okoye echoed his hum. “Very fitting, Na’,” she grinned. “Ixazaluoh, then. Ixazaluoh Kenura. The dawn of our joy.”

Her beloved’s smile was wide and bright. “Perfect.” 

Attuma kissed her head, running gentle hands over each of their children. “They’re beautiful, in K’iino’.”

Staring down at them, Okoye couldn’t help but agree.

They would grow in time, surrounded by love and supported by their family. But for now, it was enough that they were here. 

Small and sleeping and theirs.

Beautiful, indeed.

A/N 3:

I tried not to be too graphic with the L&D, but she did have 3 babies naturally so... it wasn't ever gonna be short.

There's a fourth part to this somewhere in my brain... it might take a lil longer cuz I gotta work on that OT3 thing 👀👀

[aerikaye]

sky — my birth experience

hello, everyone! i'll be sharing my journey of becoming a mum and welcoming my little bundle of joy, sky, into this world. let's take a trip down memory lane as i recount the beautiful birth experience and the roller coaster of emotions that followed.

the early signs of labor

it all began at 5:30 am last tuesday when i felt what i thought were typical third-trimester contractions. as the contractions continued and intensified every 20 minutes, i had a strong hunch that labor had begun. it was both exciting and nerve-wracking, knowing that the moment we've been waiting for was finally here. i remember trying to time the contractions and feeling a mix of excitement and anxiety as the realization hit me that my baby's arrival was imminent.

the rush to the clinic

by 1 pm, the contractions were getting more intense and closer together. it was time to head to the clinic. i was filled with a whirlwind of emotions - anticipation, nervousness, and overwhelming love for the little life growing inside me. upon arrival, the medical team quickly assessed me, and to my surprise, i was already 8 cm dilated! admitted immediately, my heart swelled with anticipation and a mix of emotions. the reality that i was about to meet my baby for the first time sank in, and i couldn't wait to hold him in my arms.

the intense labor and sky's arrival

for the next 3 hours, i experienced labor pains like i had never felt before. it was undoubtedly one of the most challenging and painful experiences of my life. the contractions came in waves, and in between each one, i gathered my strength and resolve, thinking of the beautiful little life that was about to grace this world. with every push, i knew i was getting closer to meeting my precious little one. and finally, at 3:32 pm, the world welcomed sky, and i wept tears of joy as his first cry filled the room. how can a cry sound that magical? in that moment, my heart felt full beyond measure.

the first week and its challenge

the first week of motherhood was both rewarding and challenging. recovering from childbirth was tough, and i'm forever grateful to my partner and mommy for being my pillars of support during this time. my body was healing, and i had to take it slow, which wasn't easy for someone as active as i used to be. but their constant care gave me the strength to focus on taking care of myself and baby sky. each day brought new challenges and learning experiences, but seeing sky's bright eyes and feeling his tiny fingers wrapped around mine made it all worth it.

breastfeeding

as a first-time mom, i embarked on the journey of exclusive breastfeeding. kid you not, it was SO painful. no one really prepared me for how intense it could be. but i knew it was crucial for sky's health and bonding. every latch was a mix of pain and joy, as i felt the responsibility of nourishing my little one with my own body. each feeding session was an emotional roller coaster, but knowing that i was providing him with the best possible nutrition kept me going. every day presented a new set of challenges, from sore nipples to latching issues, but seeing my little one thriving made it all worthwhile.

embracing motherhood

i realized how self-doubt and postpartum depression could creep in at any moment. the responsibility of caring for this tiny human was both awe-inspiring and daunting. at times, i would find myself crying in the middle of the night, questioning if i was doing everything right for sky. was i meeting all his needs? was he happy and comfortable? the weight of these thoughts would occasionally feel overwhelming. but thanks to micoh, my partner, who has been a constant source of strength and support, i know i'm not alone in this journey. he's been there to reassure me, share the parenting responsibilities, and remind me that i'm doing a great job as a mom.

despite the challenges, every day brings a sense of contentment and fulfillment. watching sky grow and thrive fills my heart with immense joy. the sleepless nights and moments of self-doubt pale in comparison to the happiness he brings into my life. i can't help but express my gratitude to the lord for blessing me with this incredible gift of motherhood. every milestone, every giggle, and even every tear have become cherished memories that i'll hold close to my heart forever. welcome, sky, to a world filled with love and warmth.

[queenofonions]

Blessing

At the inauspicious hour of 3:33 am on a wet and blustery Sunday morning, Greg and Mycroft were woken by the call they had been waiting 40 long weeks to receive.

Their surrogate had gone into labor and was presently being whisked by a security detail to a private and secure birthing facility.

The men shared a look of shock that melted into pure exhilaration as they scrambled out of bed to throw on clothing and grab the go bags that have been waiting by the door for the past month. A sleek black car met them as they raced out of the house.

14 hours later they were presented with the most exquisite creature that ever drew breath, wrapped in a pale pink blanket.

Madeline Elizabeth Lestrade-Holmes lay cradled in her daddy Greg's arms, suckling from a bottle of freshly expressed breast milk, her tiny brow wrinkled and furrowed in what could best be described as extreme annoyance.

Greg was enchanted. He could not take his eyes off her. She was perfect in every way, from the fluff of brown curls on her head to the minuscule nails on her tiny toes.

He had not heard Mycroft ask if he wanted coffee, had not felt the kiss pressed to his temple and had no idea his husband had left the room. He was utterly absorbed in the way a small pink hand was gripping his thumb.

It was true Mycroft needed coffee, and indeed Anthea was on her way back from a nearby coffee shop with something fresh and infinitely more palatable what they served in the cafeteria, but the real reason he had left his husband and daughter's side was he desperately needed a moment.

He needed a moment to collect his thoughts. He needed a moment to catch his breath.

He needed a moment to try and keep the fullness of his heart from flowing out of his eyes.

He had thought he'd known love, thought he'd known fear; he'd thought his life complete the day he married Gregory.

The moment the nurse had placed that baby girl in his arms, he'd felt all of those things to a degree he never thought possible. Barely six minutes old and already the bright center of his universe.

To see Gregory holding her, so blissfully absorbed in her every movement was precious beyond words. His precious family.

Mycroft was just about to turn around and return to their room when he spotted the open door of the hospital chapel. After a moment's hesitation he walked inside.

The room was dimly lit by tasteful sconces along the walls. Three pews sat in front of a modest altar, back-lit by a large stained glass panel depicting a white dove against a blue sky.

Mycroft had never believed in God, and he didn't now, but he could only close his eyes and whisper a heartfelt "Thank you" to whomever may be listening for this blessed day.

Please Like and Comment on AO3 

(pen name Xedra on AO3)

[peachcitt]

this is such a fun tag!! and all of your first lines are so intriguing 👀👀

here are my first lines!!

maze of the serpent

Adrien wrings his hands, wishing he could pace, knowing the wood floors would creak too much and alert the lady of his presence.

2. greatest hits

Marinette anxiously bounces the microphone head on her thigh, chewing on her bottom lip and probably causing noticeable damage to the perfect red lip she’d labored for at least five minutes on.

3. the perfect date

“Truth.”

4. tell me what i want (and only what i want)

As Adrien stared up at the fluffy white clouds meandering around a sky that was the color of inked bluebells, he briefly considered what heaven was supposed to be like.

5. for the record

“Let the record show,” Adrien says, “I took Kagami out on fantastic dates.”

6. i thought the plane was going down

As Marinette loses her grip on her overpacked carry-on suitcase that is currently over her head and less than halfway into the overhead compartment, she entertains a brief fantasy in which the (shiny red, black polka-dotted hard plastic) suitcase slips out of her hands and onto the crown of her head, killing her instantly or at the very least conking her out just enough for her to miss this flight.

7. chrysalis

They’re still lurching through the worst parts of New York traffic when Marinette props her feet up on the rental car’s dash and pulls out her crochet needle.

8. quiet

“Why are you being so quiet?”

9. metamorphosis

Marinette crouches low on the awning, eyes sweeping over the clumps of people below her before moving on to the next street, letting the soft zip of her yo-yo sweep her through the air.

10. reinvent love

Adrien emerges in the dark of a new moon, blinking in the dark, heart racing.

i thought it was interesting that you tried to look through and see if there was a trend with your first lines mia so im gonna do that too -

i feel like broken down like this, i can see that, at least with just these ten fics, the more silly, shorter ones start with just dialogue while the more 'serious' fics start with establishing a specific moment or scene. i think that also reflects how i go about writing my different kinds of fics - when i want/need to write something shorter and want to get straight to the point, i focus on the dialogue (or at least try to) because more often than not the reason im writing something so short is because i want to focus on the character dynamics at play. whereas with my longer fics, i think really hard about what the first image of the main character will be and what that says about them/the setting they're in. i'd never actively thought about the difference, so this was cool to see! thanks for tagging me<3

also im terrible at tagging games i think you should do it. yes you reading this. participate in the game

Opening Line Patterns

thank you for the tag @ladyofthenoodle and @aidanchaser!!

Rules: List the first line of your last 10 posted fics and see if there's a pattern.

1) Felonies and Other Love Languages

Adrien Agreste is at a standstill, perched up way above ground, and he hates every second of it.

2) Happily Ever After Is a Zero-Sum Game

Once upon a time, Marinette believed in happily ever afters.

3) Scar-Crossed Lovers

Marinette rests her forehead against hospital sheets—the kind she’d never be able to afford.

4) Lowkey? Like Hell

One thing you need to understand about Marinette and Adrien Dupain-Cheng is that they are not and have never been, what the kids call, "lowkey".

5) Fighting Dragons with You

Being the son of Death-Eaters was fine.

6) play stupid games/win stupid prizes

Faking Emily Laughlin's death was never going to be easy.

7) Start a War

Time stops when Chat Noir plummets from Marinette’s skylight.

8) Blinding Lights

Marinette never in her life thought that her first argument with Adrien as a couple would go like this.

9) On Borrowed Time

Time is of the essence, my dear, his mother always used to say, but Adrien was so young back then — just a kid trying to sneak away from his mother’s skirt in the crammed and stifling ballroom — he never really got what she meant.

10) Power-Struggle Power-Couple

“Oh, this could get embarrassing quickly.”

hmmm, the pattern is maybe that I will be talking about the plot, the theme, the purpose of the story first thing first--though I feel like that's pretty standardly what a first line does haha. I'm surprised to see though that I don't have more dialogues in this compilation. at a time I was really big on starting in the middle of a conversation and giving exposition later along the way

no-pressure tagging: @valiantlyjollynightmare @rosekasa @2manyfandoms2count @peachcitt 💕

[soleilnomoon]

Hello~~ It's me~~ Again, don't block me, you coward. Can I request calla lily and evening for Nami with deep kisses and goodbye kisses themes #5 and #6 please? I beg of you. I will take even crumbs, thank you.

thank u for being so patient, this was definitely a labor of love, made it extra special for you ପ(๑•ᴗ•๑)ଓ ♡

1.4k words, gn reader (no pronouns, babeyyy), nsfw 18+ mdni, it's angsty and you'll love it idc <3 (i made myself sad when i wrote this ok)

💖☁️ la vie est drôle ☁️💖 starring: “cat burglar” nami x reader. calla lily (smut) at evening, deep & goodbye kisses, #5 & 6 (massage and bath).

a lively festival takes up the majority of the main street — brightly colored balloons, drinks made from the fresh fruits from the cluster of trees that huddle closely together on the east, steamed buns, fried fish, rice and beans, sauteed vegetables, tiny sponge cakes decorated with bits of fruit and powdered sugar — the party goers dine on decadence, the divinity from the festivities filling them with pretty promises of a never ending night, their bodies moving in tandem with each other to the beat of the music; drums pounding louder and louder and louder. 

barefooted in the sand, you chase after her — shrieks of laughter spill from the deepest parts of her, the loveliest melody you’ll come to know in your entire lifetime. her voice is honey, words heavy with intent and intrigue, long lashes beckoning you forward. hypnotic, impetuous, dizzying. you follow without prompting, heart beating hard enough to give you pause. uncertainty brings about a fog that has you stumbling as you walk — one foot operating on its own, while the other remains put.

when she catches you, the moon sits prettily behind her — pink and full, an impressive fixture in the expansive night sky. a crown worthy of a queen. with lips parted, her sigh contemplative, doleful, a harrowed experience that pierces you thrice - heart, mind, soul.

the body is a husk of flesh and pitiful emotions that hold no place, but for her — for tonight, you keep it together.

if this isn’t love, you’re not sure what is.

hand in hand, skin to skin; one step after another, until you’re both sprinting away from the sandy beach and back to town. breathless. sweaty. a fit of giggles at the sight of your disheveled hair. 

chagrin gives you the incentive to make yourself a little more presentable, tufts of dark curls that refuse to be tamed. a single touch from her stops your movements altogether. the tips of her fingers ghosting along the back of your hand; your heart sputters out of control—this, you think, this. this is love.

i like it, her words carve themselves into you, one painful letter at a time, you’re beautiful regardless.

your heart is so full it could burst — it most certainly feels that way when she stands on her toes, head tilted just so, the same mouth that uttered those life-ruining words now pressed gently against yours, minuscule butterflies flapping inside your chest, a collective warmth that calms you so suddenly you almost forget to breathe. so you revise your previous statement because this—this is love.

it’s hard to deny when you follow after her again, or when she stops to grab another pastry to eat with you, or when her whispers remind you of a forgotten lullaby from long ago.

the festival continues even after you take her to your room, drunk off of the night, feet aching from all the dancing and walking, fatigue nearly claiming your body. her laughter revitalizes you, her energy infectious, her smile devastating, cheeks lightly flushed and inviting, her fingers nervously twirling around her long ponytail.

you’re not a fan of marmalade, but you love the color of her hair. if she’s the sun, then you are the moon—always chasing after one another, unlucky enough for fate to keep you apart. 

it sits in your stomach, heavy like iron, your only solace that you have the night to yourselves. her last night on the island, you remind yourself.

heartache shouldn’t crush you, but it does. it does, it does, it does. swallowing back the bitterness, refusing to cry, you smile at her — you must, for her sake alone.

the door to your balcony remains ajar, the music sailing through the air and finding you both. breathless, again; she has a funny habit of stealing your breath away without any hint of remorse. the mattress dips as you pull her onto the bed with you. hands tangled in her hair, the taste of powdered sugar on her tongue. her lips mold themselves against yours—pliable, soft, feather-light. 

a dream within a dream within a dream.

it’s not nearly enough, and yet you feel completely full from it all. it’s not greed that motivates you, it’s love—that’s what you tell yourself when you kiss her again, that’s what you keep telling yourself when you roll her onto her back, tongue finding hers; star-crossed, ill-fated. you have no intention of stopping now. her nails dig into your forearms, sinking into the skin, the pain a reminder that you’re running out of time. 

your inhales mix with her exhales and vice versa; her mouth is a treasure trove of wonder and miracles. you kiss her slowly, to taste and memorize; fate is a cruel thing that loves to take and take, but here at least, you’re in control.

she follows your lead, peeling off layer after layer of clothing until you’re both naked, until you’re both too caught up to notice the tears that stain your cheeks. are they hers or yours? you’re not sure. at a certain point, she kisses the tears away, and when your fingers graze her nipples, her soft whimpers echo all around, a pleasant parting gift before she leaves you forever.

with skilled hands, you knead her breasts, coax more sounds from her, her hips lifting to meet yours, mouth pressing open-mouthed kisses down her abdomen, tongue darting out to sample her skin one last time. a breeze coasts by, a shiver traipsing down your spine, but you keep going.

what’s the word that the flirtatious and professionally-trained cook in her crew likes to use?

oh. nutritional.

that’s what comes to mind the moment your tongue swipes at her cunt; her arousal greeting you without shame. with her legs spread like that, an invitation to a private feast; she’s several meals and dessert all at once.

you devour her with fervor, devout in your worship, tongue lapping at her wetness, brazen and practiced. she gasps loudly, her lithe fingers working their way into your hair, tugging as her hips roll forward, her pussy the most tender piece of fruit you’ll ever have the pleasure of sampling. sweat accumulates along her brow, her teeth sinking into her bottom lip in an attempt to keep her moans quiet.

but she can’t; you’ve deliberately rendered her weak, and she gives in, allowing for the lewd noises that you bring out of her to come center-stage. it makes her helpless, desire staking its claim, her chest heaving as you continue crafting your love letter to her. you’ve never been fond of your name, but when she moans, your name a breathy whisper that follows suit—it reminds you, painfully, that this is love.

slipping your fingers inside of her, you bring her to a different plane; wrist angled, fingers curling, her plush, warm walls closing around your fingers snugly. you look up at her and are met with a mesmerizing sight—flushed cheeks, swollen lips, reddish-purplish bite marks along her tanned skin. when you suck her on her clit, she shatters underneath you, writhing uncontrollably as your fingers scissor delightfully. her orgasm is a tsunami that knocks both of you over; you drown in the waves of her pleasure as she drowns in you.

if this is love, she doesn’t want it; she’d rather not breathe or remember that she was allowed to have a sliver of this feeling.

you lick your lips and fingers, the flush on her skin is enough to keep you happy for the rest of your life. she sits up shakily, pulls you towards her, and kisses you deeply, the taste on your tongue intoxicating her further. you’re both panting, both sweaty, both too tired to continue. 

light on your feet, you bring her to your bathroom and draw a bath. the water warms quickly; you climb in first, she sits in between your legs, easing back against your chest, your hands finding hers again, fingers laced. she turns, melancholy taking hold of her face; you brush your lips against hers, leaving behind a warm kiss — one that will haunt you both.

are goodbyes actually final? can’t you simply say i’ll see you again? you’re unsure, and even as tears spill down her cheeks again, you don’t stop kissing her, wanting to savor this moment, despite the messy feelings that attach themselves, despite the impulse that courses through you to tell her to stay behind. with you.

it’s love that keeps you in the bathtub with her for longer than necessary; and it’s love that has you holding her close to you, afraid that if you give her any room to breathe, she’ll disappear and take those precious moments and memories of the weeks you’ve spent together with her.

🌙 credit to @leafsea​ for the cute crescent moon divider 🌙

[lune-hime]

Hi! Are you still writing? If not then disregard this, but I was wondering if you could write the first meeting between Logan and reader that was mentioned in Blast from the Past? I think there was something about a skateboard and a torrential downpour if I’m not mistaken haha. Thanks so much! And I love your fics btw :)

Hi! I am also a big fan of your writing too! :) Thank you so much for being incredibly patient with me on this request. I apologize for how long this has taken me to get out, preparing for graduate school has left me with much less time to write than I anticipated. I’m sorry for the wait, but I hope you enjoy the first meeting of dear reader and Logan <3 

Raindrops on Adamantium

↞↠↞↠↞↠

Zzzt.

Do tell me, please, why you presently found yourself alone at sunset (which-by the way-you couldn’t even see through the thick, gravely, storm clouds) on a remote hiking trail, optimistically ignoring the forecast for torrential rain, with only a windbreaker, backpack, and your longboard tucked under your arm?

Zzzt.  

I mean, really, this is how young women like you got chloroformed, dragged through the bramble, and stabbed on the stale and musty floorboards of a serial killer’s cabin.

Zzzt.  

And you can’t even fucking skate on a mountain trail.

Zzzt Zzzt.

Did I mention no cell service either? Oh, and how about that creepy dead, freshly killed deer a few minutes back on the side of the trail?

Zzzzzt-zap.

This time your sharp reflexes and highly precisioned energy electrocuted two mosquitos out of this dimension before they could land on your collarbone.

I get it though, mosquitoes and the sky teetering on the edge of cracking open aside, this was what you needed right now. This is where you needed to be right now, even if this was the world’s most questionable hiking trip.

Canada was indeed everything you needed and more. Sure, you had to constantly use dingy porta-potties and lactic acid inducing manual labor while you were working in the field. But it was rewarding and interesting and most of all it gave you a break from..well...you.

It seemed a bizarre decision by your family to pack up and leave for another country, even if it was only one border away. From their perspective it was hard to comprehend why a woman in her mid twenties in the summer of her first year of graduate school at NYU would want to galivant around in the remote corners of British Columbia. She should be networking with scientists and politicians she’s met during her internships, attending lavish banquets for anthropological research, and of course extending her plus-one invites to her loving, supporting, family.

You audibly scoffed at their idealistic fantasy.

Charles and your friends at the mansion couldn’t have been more encouraging. When the professor had told you about the opportunity to work at archeological dig sites of ancient excavated First Nations villages in the farthest Canadian wilderness from New England yachts and neon kissed skyscrapers, you couldn’t say yes fast enough.

You mentally chanted to yourself that this was a much needed reset as the clouds hungrily followed the crunching of your boots against deceased maple leaves. The looming canopy of conifers seemed to gain density as your steps dodged the slugs that emerged from the dirt to worship the incoming blessings of rain. You let the creaking of the wind against the broad trunks of the pines and the grayed blanket of air wash the stress from the work week away and lull you into a false sense of calm.

The first droplets of rain tapped against the ferns in a gentle percussion as you weaved over precariously growing roots. You used your free hand to fling your hood up and zipped your jacked as far up as it could go in preparation for more precipitation. Through the thin fabric your ears picked up a rustling in the brush that was definitely too grounded to be the wind.

Playful, hoarse grunts erupted from the ferns as two grizzly cubs rolled out of the bushes and onto the path in front of you. Your eyes threatened to pop out of your head as you watched them tumble through the pine needles and bite at each other’s ears.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck…” Curses looped across your mind as your breath began to quicken in the eerie silence that now overtook the forest. Azure energy crackled along the spaces between your fingers as they twitched in fear.

Shit , you were a city girl. And they never offered classes on how to defend yourself from threatening wildlife at university or the mansion. Are grizzlies the kind you need to play dead with? Or climb a tree? Fuck you couldn’t even climb the stairs half the time without getting winded. One thing you did know, however, was if the babies were here than their mother-

It happened so quickly that your mind struggled to keep pace with your fingers. An unmistakable breathy growl manifested to your right as the mother in question charged you. Your flight instinct was first to kick in as you scrambled backwards down the trail. You only got a few feet until the slick bark of the tree roots caused you to slip and tumble to the ground. Your board flew out of your grip as your butt hit a particularly plump root. You winced at the pain but didn’t have much time to nurse your fall when the lumbering beast was almost on top of you.

You choked out a cry as you sloppily turned over and began struggling to get to your knees. You felt yourself being lifted by your backpack as the bear’s teeth ripped through the canvas of your bag and threw you off the path. You flailed on your descent, landing on your stomach as hot tears began streaking down your terrified face. You felt yourself being shaken by the straps as she roughly tugged you from side to side. With a vigorous scream you flipped to your side, adrenaline contorting your fingers to expel electric energy. A boisterous crack sent shockwaves through the canopy. Angrily your assailant bellowed at the discomfort of your energy webbing itself through her face. She snorted but lurched forward once more, her jaws a ghost on your neck. Her hot breath barely dusted your cheeks before energy shot outwards from your hands that shielded your face from becoming dinner. A pained yelp followed by another crack met your ears as you placed your buzzing palms down. The bear and her babies were hightailing it off in your opposite direction. Instant guilt washed over you as you noticed the bald spots woven through her copper fur where your energy had badly burned her.

As you began trying to calm your spinning mind you glanced up, squinting through the droplets, to see that the crack you had heard was your energy raking through the treetops and searing them straight off. The gateway you had made for the rain now left you damp and wallowing in your painfully heaving chest, sore ass, and shame for hurting another creature.

Logan let out a sigh as the muscles of his shoulder blades stretched with the roll of his arms. His axe was weighty in his hand as he leaned down to pick up another piece of birch trunk and placed it on his chopping block. Arms up and axe over his head, he prepped himself for his swing and brought the axe down with a thunderous clap.

His brows furrowed at the commotion. Indeed, the wood was now evenly split, but the chopping block was still in one piece. He momentarily contemplated the limits of his strength when crows flew from their pined perches.

“That’s definitely not normal.” He muttered to himself. He focused all of his senses in the direction of the commotion when his ears picked up a scream. Instantly he ran to his pick up truck, forgetting he still clutched the axe in his hand. Once he was in the driver’s seat he chucked it into the back as he slammed his foot on the gas, wheels kicking up dust as he sped down the dirt road.

Logan drove until the first trailhead emerged from the thicket. He felt his claws nipping at the skin of his knuckles as he slammed the door and jogged across the soggy dirt. The screaming had ceased, but Logan could smell the musky stench of a bear nearby. Sure enough as he went deeper and deeper into the forest he saw sets of fresh tracks squelched into the mud. Retracing the animals’ steps he let out a breath of relief at the woman who was beginning to sit upright.

Halfway through dragging yourself upward you heard heavy footfalls on the path. Your head whipped towards the sound in dread, not mentally prepared for another attack. Your wide eyes met with those of a man; his sorrel tresses were dislodged from flying through the crisp breeze, his flannel was casually only buttoned mid chest, and lord his hands.

Your mouth fell agape at the metal daggers that resided between his knuckles. Their metallic sheen was amplified by the raindrops that cascaded down them. At first, you felt tinges of fear that he was the axe murderer that you had always been warned about. But in those eyes you could only read concern.

Logan picked up on your uneasiness and put his hands out in front of him in a non threatening gesture. The energy that still flickered about your body did not go unnoticed by him as he put the pieces of what must have happened together. The stench of bear, the booming, a hole in the trees, a young mutant lying on the ground in the aftermath of defending herself. He willed his claws ever so slowly back into his hands as he watched you become entrapped by his anomaly.

He was like you and you were like him.

“You’re-” You began, still gawking at his mutation. Logan was used to people ogling at him in fear, disdain, and abhorrence and even with you being a mutant he wouldn’t have put it past you to react the same. But your initial alarm had washed off with the steady stream of rain and what was revealed was a mixture of relief, apprehension, and curiosity.

“Mhm.” He simply answered with mutual acknowledgement. He battled with taking a few paces forward to help you up but he didn't want to stress you out any more than needed.  

“What are you doing in my forest?” He asked as he watched you groan and finally sit up.

“What are you, the fairy guardian of this place?” You mumbled, riding out the final waves of your panic. Logan cocked an eyebrow in mild amusement. He waited while you rolled your wrists and checked yourself for any bleeding or sprains. You were satisfied with suffering only a few cuts to your cheek and arms where sticks had kissed just beneath your skin. The dull ache of where your tailbone struck the root took the place of your endorphins.

“Can I help you up?” Logan asked softly as he kept his hands visible and empty. You answered him with an apprehensive stare as you contemplated. You figured if he really wanted to hurt you, especially after realizing your powers, he would have already. When you nodded Logan walked towards you and offered you his hand.

“Are you gonna zap me?” He lightly chuckled before you could connect your palm with his. His comment offered a small smile from you.

“No, unless you try something.” Your quip faded into a grunt of discomfort as his strong arm pulled you to your feet.

“You alright? You don’t look like that bear took any chunks out of you.” He inquired as the warmth of his hand left your grasp.

“How did you know it was a bear?” You asked with a knitted brow.

“I heard you scream and saw bear tracks on my way here.” He responded simply. You hummed and let out a shaky exhale when the coil in your lower back tightened as you attempted to stretch it.

“I’m fine, just shaken up. I’m more worried for the bear…” You trailed off as your guilty conscience overcame your thoughts. Even when you could have become their next family meal, you had reservations about using your mutation to hurt others. Logan huffed in disbelief at your selflessness.

“Seems like you didn’t really have much of a choice. What else could you do; its not like PETA will ever find out.” He shrugged. You kept your guard tilted high but even gilded iron defenses couldn’t keep you from observing his handsomeness. In the newfound proximity you wandered the hazel pathways of his irises in the company of the distinct smell of cigar and pine. He wore the rugged boyishness of a young man in his smooth skin and wolfish smile. It clashed ever so lovely with the maturity that embodied his stance and sturdy build.

To any dismay you could have had, the roses that bloomed on your cheeks did not go unnoticed by him. Alluring curiosity spread across his face. He wouldn’t deny that-despite your disheveled hair, the dirt that coated your jaw, and the aura of a wet puppy-he found you beautiful. Any seductions that ran through his mind aside, he liked to think he was chivalrous enough to push the brakes on a girl who just got mauled by a bear.

“So, wanna explain why you were electrocuting a bear on a remote hiking trail?” He pressed as he shifted his weight to one side, bringing his boot to prop up and rest on a protruding root. You gulped, your pride about getting lost still dangling from a few frayed threads.

“Do you wanna explain why-uh-you’re also here on this remote hiking trail?” You countered and crossed your arms. Your voice quaked with residual nerves that were the opposite of threatening.

Logan stared at you through the rain. The clouds were weeping more intensely now and their tears kissed his dark lashes.

“I have a summer cabin. Gonna answer my question before we both end up taking showers out here?” He replied with a tinge of annoyance as his hair grew slick with the incoming rain.

In the space that filled your gap in speech, a vivacious thunderclap steam rolled through the sky. As if on cue, the rain absolutely poured through the leafy umbrella above you and instantly began soaking the two of you.

“Shit!” Logan exclaimed at the now sticky feeling of his flannel to his chest. You flipped the hood of your raincoat up as quickly as you could, but not before your head was thoroughly waterboarded.

“WHAT NOW?” You shouted over the roaring water. Logan’s brow furrowed under the assault of droplets.

“My car is parked not that far from here.” He yelled with a nod in the direction he came from. You bit your lip nervously at the thought of following a strange man to his vehicle.

“How do I know you’re not some weirdo?” You contended.

“We’re both weirdos, sweetheart.” The term of endearment slid so effortlessly on the remark about your mutations and left your cheeks hot against the cold rain. “You can trust me, or you can get soaked out here. Your choice.”

What other option did you really have? Your mutation couldn’t protect you from freezing nor could you send sparks into a wet log to create a fire. He obviously knew this area well, he made sure you were unhurt, and he was like you. You took solace in all of these notions and reminded yourself that you could use your abilities as a last resort.

“Fine. But metal is a great conductor for electricity just so you know.” You warned and Logan cracked a half smile. He then began jogging up the trail.

“WAIT.” You called and he halted in his tracks. You ran over to the brush and sifted through the ferns to tuck your longboard under your arm. Logan did not have the time to question the absurdity of you bringing that with you on a hike but a look of perplexity was evident on his glistening features. He ran at a much slower pace than he would have had he been alone. He made sure he could hear the squelching of your footfalls as you pushed through the stinging at your tailbone and followed him back to his truck.

He unlocked the rusty vessel swiftly and the two of you plopped onto the pleasantly dry seats. You threw your longboard on the floor of the passenger’s seat and heaved a sigh of relief to be out of those woods. You immediately slipped your soggy shoes and socks off. While you peeled your drenched raincoat from your form, you glanced around the interior of the car.

Not trashy-save an empty beer bottle and an orange Reese's wrapper.

No guns. You figured he didn’t need a gun with claws like those.

A worn, auburn leather jacket hanging off of one of the back seats.

“At least you don’t have an axe.” You chuckled more to yourself than him. Logan comically averted his eyes ever so slowly to the back seat. He sighed when he didn’t see the weapon in question for it must have fallen under the seat.

Logan's car was getting an all natural, no expenses paid power wash as the two of you stared in awe as the rain slid down the windshield in swift rivers. It left zero visibility outwards aside from the running water.

“I...don’t think you can drive through this.” You stated the obvious.

“No shit.” He replied, his voice laced with a velvet rumble off of the metal frames of the vehicle. “We’ll have to wait it out.”

You nodded and couldn’t fight the large shiver that sprung from your lower back all the way up to your ears. Your torso may have been kept dry but your head was soaked and so were your legs. Logan arched his back to reach behind the driver’s seat to grab his jacket from the back.

“Here.” He offered gently, straightening it out and laying it on your lap.

You blinked at his simple act of kindness. Grabbing the smooth leather, you brought your knees to your chest and layered the jacket over your body from your legs to your shoulders. Heat rose to your cheeks as it did the rest of your body as you curled into his jacket.

“Thanks.” You said and gave him a grateful smile. “Aren’t you cold too though? You didn’t have a raincoat on.”

“I’m fine. One of the...perks of my genetics.” He replied in dismissal of your concern.

“Damn, kitty claws and not being able to feel the cold? You lucked out, dude.” You commented with a light hearted tease. Joking made you feel less vulnerable, less stupid for putting yourself in this situation. Logan rolled his eyes at the frilly name for his adamantium blades.

“I know your mutation before I even know your name.” You commented with a small chuckle.

“Logan.” He answered, the velvety gravel of his voice rippling through the rain at the windshield.

“Nice to meet you, Logan. I’m Y/N.” You said and held your hand out expectantly. When you locked gazes, both of you were temporarily enamored in the chromatics of your eyes. He seemed to realize this before you and smoothly took your hand in his without ever wavering his eye contact. He gave your hand a quick shake and withdrew it back into his lap. His palm was so warm against your clammy skin. It made you wonder how the rest of him felt.

“I honestly didn’t expect to meet anyone out here, let alone another mutant.” You exhaled at the lingering impossibility of the situation.

“That's why I’m here, usually it's pretty barren people wise. That brings me back to my question; what are you doing out here?” He pressed. As he waited for an answer, he shifted to relax into the corner between the seat and the window, amber eyes alight in the dimmed shadow of the rain. You fiddled with the worn hem of your makeshift blanket for a few moments, letting the waterfall outside fill the silence.

“Today was supposed to be a relaxing break from work. Evidently it didn’t turn out that way.” You exhaled and leaned your head back on the seat’s headrest. “I saw this park along the way to one of my work sites and thought it looked like a good place to be alone. Now I know to research bear population concentrations before going anywhere.”

Logan understood. That’s the whole reason he lived half of his life as what some would proclaim as a hermit. Partially to save others from getting hurt by him and partially to keep himself from getting burned by the unknown mistakes of his past and the anonymity of his stolen memories. He wasn’t your dad so he wasn’t going to hound you too much about it. But, even if you held the power to break the trees with a thunderclap, he couldn’t help the protective feeling that bubbled up his throat for the sweet woman next to him.

“Do you always charge head on into places you know nothing about? And with a skateboard?” His words betrayed his increasing fondness for your adventurous spirit.

You didn’t come all the way to Canada to be lectured. (Well, besides in your internship.) The question could have been taken as aggressive, judgmental, or prying even. But in his tone was genuine curiosity framed underneath the light scolding.

“I thought it would be fun to learn how to longboard while I’m out here for the summer.” You confessed and sent a testing look this way. He let out a rich chuckle.

“And a hiking trail is the ideal place for that.”

“I thought maybe there would be a bridge or paved path…” You scowled at his sarcasm.

“I get it though, we all need alone time. And there’s not a better place than the forest to do that.” A sigh tailed his sweet comment. You were grateful for it, for despite his banter, he didn’t make you feel like a stupid kid. Not entirely, at least.

“You’re not from around here then?” He continued.

“No, I’m from New York actually. I’m here on a grad school internship.”

“Ah, a city girl. That explains the blind enthusiasm.” The corner of his mouth turned up in a cocky half smile. Your glare only grew in intensity at his teasing.

“Long way from home.” He noted and you hummed in agreement.

“Is your degree in wildlife conservation?” He threw you one final lithe jab.

“Haha.” You said pointedly, but you couldn’t stop the grin from spreading across your lips at his handsome amusement. “No, cultural anthropology, actually.” Logan let out an impressed whistle.

“What about you? Are you one of those people who abandoned their life to live off the grid?” You asked tentatively, realizing the conversation had been solely focused on you.

“Not exactly. I’ve got a couple cabins across the country-like summer and winter homes. When I’m out here, I work at the lumber yard. When I’m in Alberta, I work at a bar.” He responded as he wiped the condensation from his side of the window, a hopeless attempt at checking through the wall of rain.

“So you’re both a lumberjack and a bartender? Wow, eclectic.” You praised his line of work.

“More or less.” He left out that the only things he tended to at the bar were bloodied knuckles after embedding them into his opponent's gut during each cage match.

You chatted idly as the rain continued to wash away the hectic afternoon. You talked about your work, about your home. He talked about his cabin, about his travels through BC and Alberta. Between your lips the two of you wove personal stories but excluded intimate details. He was still a stranger, after all. Even if the complexity of his humble nature and mysterious lifestyle made him one of the most compelling strangers you had ever met.

As the storm raged on and time flowed in waves at your windows, you began to doze off. Logan resigned to resting his eyes himself while keeping his ears peeled for a let up in the rain or any disturbances.

Until he heard your little grunt of discomfort.

In your sleep your head had grown heavy and lolled to the side at such an angle that Logan was sure you would wake up with an insane neck cramp. As gingerly as he could, he rolled up your now dry raincoat, gently placed his hand on your cheek, and propped your head onto the makeshift pillow. His eyes softened at the utter peacefulness of your relaxed form; the way your eyelashes embraced your plump cheeks, and in your tranquility the erasure of any semblance of the past few hours.

“What?” You whispered, pretty eyes now meeting his in groggy sweetness. Logan blinked in surprise but didn’t take his eyes off of you. He felt delicate wings against the chambers of his heart.

“Stop looking at me like that.” He warned lightly. Under your honeyed look his nerves felt like they were being bathed in a pleasant hum. He wondered if your energy could feel like this.

“You’re a secret softie.” You declared with a sleepy giggle. Logan pursed his lips at the cute accusation, but didn’t deny it.

“Go back to sleep, bub.” He said lowly. You let the warm tambour of his voice mixed with the crisp pitter patter of the rain send you back to sleep.

When the storm would finally pass, Logan would drive you back into town. You would part ways, then, not knowing the impact you would have on each other’s lives mere months later after the summer rain bled into the crimson fall and arrived on Xavier’s School’s winter doorstep.

[fishoutofcamelot]

Ur ninjango posts...bruh I thought that show was for kids. Anyway for no particular reason, how is the whump?? U mentioned smt abt torture would that be like onscreen or implied or??? 😳

hdkjafdsfkaljdsfkljadskljl I mean sure, Ninjago is technically a kids show but HOO BOY the writers sure don't let that stop them. For example, the aforementioned torture? Jay ends up captive to a bunch of pirates who are tormenting him with the specific intention of breaking his spirit. At first it starts out innocuous enough - swabbing the decks, your traditional ball and chain bound to his ankle, endless labor to the point of severe physical exhaustion...but then comes the Scrap n' Tap. A game where each pirate takes turns beating him up ruthlessly and relentlessly. His injuries are so extensive that he actually has to wear an eyepatch for a bit, and when his friends come to rescue him he can't even walk on his own without support. It's not, like, graphic full-on torture, but it DOES happen on-screen and it is lowkey messed up. And for a kid's show...yeah.

Like, is the show primarily lighthearted and fun? Yeah. Definitely. But that just makes it so much worse when the show decides to punch you in the gut. And goddammit it sure loves to punch you in the gut. All the time. It certainly isn't afraid to throw its angst around. Not always whump, necessarily (unless Zane is involved, the poor whumping bag), but definitely angst. This show HAS made me cry quite a few times and I'm not ashamed to admit that.

Now, I couldn't find any clips on YouTube of the Scrap n' Tap, nor of Jay's torment at the hands of the sky pirates, but I DID end up going down a rabbit hole of angsty scenes from throughout the series. A few examples, for anyone who's curious:

Harumi's flashback to her parent's death

Zane dies (for the first time)

Cole's flashback to his bedridden mother

Nya tries to comfort a newly ghost-ified Cole (the video quality on this one sucks but this scene also means a lot to me, so naturally I had to include it here)

Cole falls off the Bounty

Morro's death

Kai tries to help Lloyd resist the ghost possessing him

BONUS: a compilation of Zane getting hurt/shut down (not all the times, but a few of the more memorable ones)

I actually didn't even put the angstiest stuff on this list! Didn't wanna give away the best tearjerkers on of the off chance that any of my fandom-baiting actually ends up working on somebody one of these days (pspsps please check out Ninjago it's a fun show and also will cause you lots of pain, and I need someone to cry over the season 15 finale with me because holy shit that ending changed me as a person and I'm still in denial)

I'm not saying that Ninjago was some super mature, dark show. It is, fundamentally, a kid's show about gay Legos getting up to wacky found family shenanigans. But I AM saying that you can't go through all 15-seasons-and-counting without at least getting the tiniest bit messed up by it.

Like! Recently the series producer released a Tweet saying that season 16 is gonna be another tearjerker and I am NOT ready, I am SO NOT READY for it. I haven't even finished recovering from the last season, give me some time to cope will ya!

So to answer your question. The show tends to be pretty mild by traditional 'whump' standards, but it DOES go pretty hard on the angst. And the Scrap n' Tap thing IS on-screen. Do with that information what you will.

Thanks for the ask! And sorry to rant on about Ninjago for so long, I'm just extremely passionate about this series and I tend to get ramble-y whenever it gets brought up! <3