#the sky is a safe haven series | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

jeonginsleftcheek · 18 days ago

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The sun to me

Chapter XVI. Warmth.

pairing: hwang hyunjin x afab!reader

word count: 2.9k

chapter summary: a garden created from the artist's hands blossoms fully when the greatest love is the one that's shown in small acts of kindness.

warnings: mentions of a character's death

nsfw warnings: oral (f and m receiving), unprotected sex, creampie, cum eating

~ Masterlist for the series

~ Epilogue

🪻 Heliotrope - eternal love and devotion.

Hyunjin and you spent the last few weeks practically joined at the hip and wrapped up in each other, making up for all the time you lost during what felt like a never-ending hell of a summer.

You opened up your shop again and he came in with you every day, helping you out or painting while you worked.

You also taught him a few more garden tricks so the two of you would spend lots of time in your sunny garden too, working around your flowers.

Hyunjin understood the delicate art of growing flowers and nurturing them, and you understood the art of bringing a vision to life on an otherwise blank canvas.

It was as if you were once a singular soul who got separated into two parts somewhere in another world, and the broken soul parts wandered around all the realms until they finally reunited inside the vessels that are your bodies here on this Earth.

Hyunjin made sure you feel loved and worshipped every day and you did the same for him.

Everyone on the island was so happy to see that Hyunjin is back, Bennet and Catherine invited the two of you over for dinner, closing the restaurant as the four of you enjoyed the evening, talking, drinking and laughing.

Luna was also exceptionally happy, gifting Hyunjin a drawing of him as a prince and you as a princess, which in turn made both of your faces red and your hearts beat faster in unison.

You've never been this happy or this thankful to have someone like Hyunjin by your side.

With fingers tightly entwined, Hyunjin and you walk towards the little cove that has always been your safe haven, now back to it's original view, nothing but the deep blue sea, the sky bleeding into it; empty but never lonely.

The sound of your laughter echoes on the beach as you sit down on the rocks, your favorite spot.

Hyunjin remembers when he first arrived to the island, and tried to sketch something as simple as the waves only to hear echoes of his mother's venomous words inside his head, causing him to hurt again.

You notice he's quiet, a contemplative look on his face, as he stares off into the vastness of the sea.

You don't say anything at first, only reach out to gently touch his hand, fingertips caressing his soft skin.

Hyunjin looks at you, melancholy written on his face and reflecting in his eyes in the shape of tears that threaten to spill.

He seeks comfort in you, as he leans his cheek on your chest and wraps his arms around you tightly.

"Jinnie?"- you say it gently as your arms wrap around him and you caress his head, carding your fingers through his hair.

"I called her."- he swallows the tears.

"Her?"- you ask.

"Mhm. My mother."- he says quietly.

"Oh. How did it go?"- you ask cautiously.

"Like always."- he sniffles.

"I'm sorry."- you say as you kiss the top of his head and he presses himself closer to you as his hands grip at your shirt.

"It's okay."- he looks up at you, a single tear sliding down his cheek and you catch it with your thumb.

"I'll be okay."- he repeats.

"You will, Jinnie. And I'll be here to help you."- you smile gently at him, the kindness he always associated you with is there, touching him warmly, keeping him safe from all the harm.

"My flower."- he smiles and sits up to kiss you lovingly and you return the kiss with the same sentiment, pouring all your love into him.

"I- I wanna go visit Isaac today."- he says as the two of you part and you keep caressing his face. "I'm ready to say goodbye to him."

"Okay, we can go pick some flowers up from the shop and bring it to him?"- you suggest.

"Okay."- Hyunjin nods and you kiss his forehead before the two of you get up and make your way to the shop.

When you finally start making your way to the graveyard, the walk there is quiet.

Hyunjin is holding the bouquet you made in one hand and in the other, he holds your hand.

Your thumb is constantly moving on his skin in a subtle attempt to soothe him and he squeezes your hand shortly to let you know that he feels your warmth.

"Here we are."- you say as you stand in front of Isaac's gravestone.

Hyunjin stands quietly for a few moments before he kneels down to place the flowers on the grave.

You can see that he's struggling not to cry so you kneel down next to him, grabbing his hand gently.

"Goodbye, Isaac."- he says, his voice breaking as tears start sliding down his cheeks and he lets himself cry.

The two of you stay there for a few minutes, just quietly holding onto each other and reminiscing about the man who had helped Hyunjin in more ways than he even knows it.

He wishes he could see Isaac one last time, he wishes that he at least had a few more moments with the warm man who was sort of a father figure to him, someone as kind to him as you are.

When you come back home, Hyunjin finds himself falling into your arms, his face buried in your chest as you comfort his saddened heart.

The little owl he had whittled together with Isaac still stands on your shelf, watching over both of you as you hold onto each other tightly, finding everything you ever needed inside the loving embrace.

"I have something for you."- Hyunjin smiles gently, he had barely unpacked his things a few days ago, both of you too infatuated in each other that you forgot about mundane tasks such as that one.

"Oh? What is it?"- you look at him as you sit on the bed.

Hyunjin opens up a drawer, one he filled with his things and takes out a little lavender box out of the back.

"I got this made for us."- he adds as he makes his way to you.

"What is it?"- you giggle as your heart speeds up.

"Open it, my love."- he says as he gives it to you.

You feel giddy as you slowly open up the box, a gasp leaving your lips when you see two matching necklaces with a heliotrope flower pendant.

"H-Hyunjin."- your eyes water as your heart skips a beat.

"I'm sure you know the meaning."- he smiles, his hand on your cheek, a gentle and sweet touch of his fingertips makes your eyes flutter.

"It's a promise of eternal love."- you whisper.

"Mhm. I promise to love you forever, my muse."- he says as the two of you gravitate towards each other, lips pressing together, soft and passionate against each other.

"Let me help you put it on."- Hyunjin smiles when you part.

"What about this one?"- you grab the black stone one that he gave you before.

"You can layer?"- he pouts cutely, puppy eyes staring at you as his eyebrows shoot up.

"Sure."- you laugh at his cuteness, pinching his cheek shortly before you turn to let him put the necklace on you.

"Help me with mine."- Hyunjin says and you do so, the matching necklaces pretty on both of you, the meaning of them making them even more beautiful to the lovers whose necks they adorn.

"So pretty."- you whisper, tracing his collarbone and the necklace and Hyunjin inhales sharply, even the smallest touches by you make him weak.

You bite on your lip and gently push him down into the pillows and he gives you a cheeky grin.

You swing your leg over him, lowering your middle on his, your core pressed against him, and his hips lift up into you on their own accord, hands on your thighs instantly as he squeezes and caresses the exposed flesh.

"Jinnie."- you keep biting on your lip as you slowly drag your core against him.

"Mm, darling."- Hyunjin's eyes become hazy instantly as the two of you grind into each other.

You lean down to kiss his neck and he throws his head back, squeezing your hips as you attack his skin with licks and bites, leaving purple bruises where you suck on him and he whines, becoming harder under your wet core.

Your hands roam on his stomach and waist as you lift his shirt up and touch him wherever you can reach, making sure to caress every spot of his exposed skin, to worship him and claim him as yours.

Hyunjin grunts in the pure state of bliss as he lets you kiss him and touch him wherever you want, grinding his hard cock up into you.

You slide his shirt off and your lips travel from his neck to his chest and nipples, down to his toned stomach and waist, down to the happy trail disappearing into his boxers.

"Y/n..."- Hyunjin moans as you hover over his bulge.

"Yes lover?"- you give him a little smirk.

"Please touch me."- he whines and you giggle, leaning down to kiss the place where a wet patch formed on his boxers, kissing the tip of his cock as it twitches against your puckered lips.

"You're gonna tease me, aren't you?"- he smirks as he lets you spread his legs, your hands caressing his inner thighs.

"Mhm."- you mumble, your tongue pressing into his clothed tip.

"Ah..."- Hyunjin moans quietly and you lift up a little just to slide his boxers off.

His cock is hard and heavy when it slaps against his stomach and you whimper at the delicious sight.

His hand comes down to grab his cock and you lick your lips when you see his long fingers wrapped around his length like that, teasing himself right in front of your face.

"You wanted to tease me but you seem speechless right now."- he gives you a smirk.

"Can you blame me?"- you smirk back, getting into a more comfortable position.

He chuckles shortly, thumbing his slit as you bring your face closer to him and Hyunjin sucks in his bottom lip, his brows furrowed as he presses his tip on your lips.

"Open up, love."- he says gently and your eyes flutter as you open your mouth and take his tip in, his hands gathering your hair as he holds it in a makeshift ponytail.

You suck on the tip a little, teasing him with your tongue and the way he looks at you in that moment has you squeezing your thighs together.

His eyes are narrowed down on you, plump lips parted and cheeks rosy, a thin sheen of sweat glistening on his forehead.

You feel greedy and slide down, taking more of him in and Hyunjin moans as he grips your hair.

"That's it, take it. Good girl."- he smirks and you whimper around him, sending vibrations through his body and making his cock twitch in your mouth.

The heaviness and warmth of him inside your mouth drives you wild as you start sucking on him and bobbing your head faster.

Hyunjin's lips release pretty moans as you please him, the taste of his pre-cum on your tongue is sweet to you and you grip the base of his cock, working what you can't fit with your hand, as your other hand plays with his sensitive balls.

"Oh my god, y/n! Fuck, just like that!"- Hyunjin curses, losing himself in the pleasure as he arches his hips up into you, making you gag a little.

You don't mind as you slide down further, his tip hitting the back of your throat, your eyes water and you swallow around him making him whine as he buries his fingers in your hair and grips you harshly.

You moan around him and he looks down at you.

"You wanna try taking all of it? I wanna see my cock disappear in your mouth, darling."- he looks at you lustfully, his free hand brushing against your cheek.

"Mm."- you moan around him again as your eyes flutter, your arousal pooling on your panties and you desperately need some kind of friction.

Hyunjin bites on his lip again, red and swollen from sinking his teeth into it repeatedly as he helps you slide down on his length, until your nose is buried in his pubes and you inhale, trying to relax your throat.

"Mm, look at you. You take it so well, baby."- he whines and you're going crazy, rubbing your thighs together as he fucks up into your mouth slowly.

"Shit, feels so good!"- he moans as you meet his thrusts, sucking him off faster.

You keep whimpering and gagging around him, tears now sliding down your cheeks and Hyunjin can see your legs pressed together as you look for relief.

"Is my flower feeling needy?"- he asks with a smirk and you whine.

Finally, he pulls you off his cock gently, his hand still on your hair and the other cups your chin.

You cough a little as you look up at him teary-eyed.

"I won't deny you, love."- he gives you a smile as he beckons you closer to him.

You hover over him and he gently takes your face in his hands, kissing you passionately as he wipes away your tears.

Suddenly, you're flipped over on your tummy as Hyunjin presses your body into the bed and hovers over you, his cock pressed against your ass.

You gasp and grip onto the pillows as he holds your wrists down.

Hyunjin's lips are on the back of your neck and your shoulders as he kisses you and slides his hands on your back and waist down to your ass, grabbing it and massaging the plushy flesh.

"All of this is mine."- he kisses your neck again, hands grabbing at your hips to lift your pelvis up.

He spreads your legs and you whine as you hold onto the pillow.

"All yours, Jinnie."- you say as you feel the tip of his cock caress your folds.

You clench instantly, begging to be filled up as he teases you, pressing his hardness into your clit.

"I'm gonna give you all my love, darling."- you hear the smirk in his voice as he slowly pushes in.

Rarely practicing this position, it makes you feel dirty in a good way as Hyunjin starts snapping his hips into your ass, his hands splayed on your hips, holding on tightly, his cock is buried even deeper inside you than in any other position.

"Ah, ah, Jinnie, ah!"- you moan constantly, your mind becoming a cloud drifting in the wind as you let go completely, giving into Hyunjin as he pistons his hips into you fast and hard.

The sinful sounds of skin slapping skin, the feeling of his cock ravaging you, his balls smacking against your ass have you drooling on your pillow as your legs tremble, your toes curling and pussy clenching around his length.

"Let go, baby."- he knows you're there, his hands on your waist as he pushes you down on his cock harder.

"Mm, Hyunjin!"- you moan out his name as you cream around his cock and Hyunjin's hips stutter.

"Ah, shit!"- he grunts, fucking into you sloppily as he shoots his cum deep inside you, riding his high as he smacks your ass.

"Jinnie!"- you whine before he pulls out of you slowly, and turns you around easily, your legs falling open for him as his cum drips out of you.

He leans down between your legs and starts eating you out instantly, your thighs shake as you moan loudly and grip onto his hair.

"Mm."- he moans into you, eyes fluttering as he laps at you, swallowing your cum mixed together like it was the sweetest thing he ever tasted.

"You taste like honey."- he kisses your folds and your clit and you let out a chuckle.

The tip of his tongue teases your nub and you whimper.

"Ah, sensitive!"

"I'm sorry, are you okay my flower?"- he lifts up immediately, hand cupping your cheek.

"Yes, yes, more than okay."- you smile as you wrap your arms around him and bring him closer to you.

You kiss him sweetly, the taste of him and you lingers on your tongues as they dance together slowly and sensually, your bodies arching into each other, seeking the warmth they provide.

"You wanna redecorate the house?"- you ask when the two of you part and Hyunjin bursts into laughter.

"That's what you were thinking about while I was inside you?"- he asks with a grin.

"No, I couldn't think then but my thoughts came back now."- you say and he giggles.

"Alright, let's redecorate."- he gives you a sweet smile, leaning down to kiss your cheeks.

And a few weeks later, after lots of hard work, you had managed to re-paint your kitchen, of course again in the warm signature pastel yellow you loved so much, but the living room was now a shade of lavander, just like the heliotrope flower that symbolizes the depth of your love.

Paintings that both of you made adorned your walls now, except one wall that you left blank, to fill it up with a work of art you'd create together.

You weren't alone anymore, and neither was Hyunjin, destiny had brought you together, and the two of you sat at each side of the blank wall, painting together for days to make a beautiful mosaic of blooming flowers, a luscious garden that represents your love blossoming as you got closer and closer to the middle of the wall, where you had met with your paintbrushes and matching smiles, sealing your fate with a kiss and a flower you created together.

taglist: @moonchild9350 @janepg @velvetmoonlght @hwanghyunjinismybae @jehhskz @laylasbunbunny @porangporangmeong @jeonginslefthand @sapphirewaves @simpforleeknaur @laughatdanger @lixies-favorite-cookie @linavc @quokkacidal @thisaintredwine @m00gyu @yaorzu-blog @skzfelixlove @tajannah-price1 @puccaaak @aft2rsexs @xxkissesforchanniexx @aprilmaejune77 @lilmeowneow @stayjinnie @astrobebba @danihwang882 @kaysungshine @nchhuhi @1810cl @chartrucewhore @babigriin @jisuperboard @alisonyus @minluvly @instantsoulnight @kkamismom12 @its-stayville-forever @s3ungm1nxxl0ve @painterhyunjin @lemonadeboun @eastjonowhere

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itsgodepi · 3 months ago

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If I lose my mind | Ch. 11

Series summary: When you're buried under a mountain of problems and can’t seem to catch a break, it might feel like you need a complete reset. But did it really have to come with a one-way ticket to a new dimension? Surely, a little problem-solving would’ve done the trick. Or, one day you go to sleep as a normal person and the next you wake up as a Formula One driver. You've never been a fan but isn't it like, one of the most exclusive sports? Pairing: CL16, LH44, CS55, DR3 x fem!reader Chapter: Previous | Next Word Count: 3k Also on AO3

A gentle breeze greets you as you step onto the bar’s terrace, the heavy beat of the music fading into a muffled hum as the glass door swings shut behind you. Despite the warmth, the night air feels crisp and almost refreshing. The few scattered lounge areas are sparsely occupied, quiet conversations blend with the soothing ambiance, and you inhale deeply, feeling a wave of calm wash over you—a welcome contrast to the frenzy inside.

This is the first after-party you have attended since everything changed. You had not even known there was a party after the race until Charles’ playful complaints about your absence at his podium celebration clued you in. The thought of venturing out at night had seemed daunting then—after all, the paddock had become your safe haven, a place where the routine felt familiar. But missing Carlos’ party was simply out of the question, not if you wanted to avoid the relentless whining that would surely follow.

Your time in Monaco with Charles, and the nice lunch with Daniel, had shown you just how much of this world you had yet to explore. Especially now, when the doors to a lavish lifestyle which you had yet to grasp, had swung open for you. Despite not seeing a single euro from your ‘work’, being a famous Formula One driver sure had its perks. Tonight was a perfect example: here you were, in one of the most luxurious hotels you had ever encountered, clad in a stunning dress from your pre-arranged luggage, all without spending a cent.

The building, perched elegantly on the edge of a tranquil river, boasts an expansive terrace adorned with soft lights that gently yield to the brilliance of the starlit sky. A secluded club, nestled on the outskirts of the city, packed with a glittering array of celebrities —actors, singers, athletes, you name it— all immersed in an atmosphere of opulence that is both mesmerizing and intense.

You take a few steps forward, intending to lean against the railing to fully absorb the serene scenery—the subtle scent of the flowing water, the sense of liberation that the night seems to offer—, when a man seated in solitude catches your eye.

A soft smile tugs at your lips as you approach him, the rhythmic clack of your heels on the terrace floor accompanying your steps. He is clad in a black sweater with a low neck, a big necklace hanging from his neck “What are you doing out here?” you ask, your voice light “Everyone’s inside.”

Lewis looks up, surprise flickering across his features. The terrace lights catch in his dark eyes, turning them into an intricate constellation. “Could ask you the same” he replies with a smirk, shifting to the side of the black sofa to make space for you. “I thought you were having fun dancing around with the girls”.

“Yeah, Alex and George’s girlfriend are nice, but everything is just...” you sink into the cushions, letting out an exasperated sigh as you lean your elbow on the armrest, fidgeting with the straps of your shoes. You take this brief moment to compose yourself, offering a distraction from the truth that feels too overwhelming to voice.

The strangeness of the night, the unfamiliar country, and the sea of faces —some known, many not— have left you feeling adrift. The idea of being surrounded by so many people, who were supposedly mere byproducts of your imagination, was utterly disorienting. How could something so elaborate and vivid possibly be a mere fantasy? It all felt so...

You shake your head, chiding yourself. You shouldn’t have gone out tonight —those drinks did not help either.

With a deep breath, you decide to push those thoughts aside and opt for a lighter excuse “If they play Animals one more time, I’m jumping off the balcony, I swear”

A soft chuckle escapes the Mercedes driver. “You better stay out here then” He takes a sip of his drink, crossing his legs and shifting his gaze from his glass to the breathtaking scenery, “I thought you liked electronic music”

“Yeah, I do, but—wait, how do you know that?” you notice halfway into your explanation, frowning at him. It is not like you had much time to play music since you were thrusted into this situation, so where did that come from?

Lewis shrugs, his eyes crinkling with a grin he barely manages to conceal, a trace of pride in his expression as though he is pleased to have surprised you.

“Well, yes, I do like it” you give in, tilting your head. Despite the theories crowding your mind, you prefer not to think about that. Just for today. “I guess I’ve just gotten used to Spanish nightclubs. There’s a lot less jumping, that’s for sure”

Although you were having a hard time back in Spain, you had made a couple friends during your external internship that liked to party until the early hours of the day. They showed you around the city, took you to some of the most beautiful places you had ever seen and were there when you were not in the mood for any of that.

It was nice, being with them, your small home away from home. You missed them, dearly.

“Oh, right. You were in Mallorca with Carlos, weren’t you?” he realizes, a teasing note in his voice that you choose to overlook.

“You know too much,” you reply with a playful smile, raising a pointing finger at him. Even if that is not the real reason, you prefer not to get into specifics. Not tonight “Yeah, Charles and I went to visit him for a couple days. It was nice, did they tell you about it?”

Lewis shakes his head, adjusting himself more comfortably on the sofa, draping his arm over the backrest. “That bit I picked up from the articles.”

Those photos had spread across the internet like wildfire. Both Ferrari and Haas’ media team blowing up your phones as soon as you put a foot back into the port.

Of course. You'd almost managed to forget about the media frenzy the impromptu holiday had caused.

You barely recall how the idea for a trip came up on the flight to Monaco —something about the scorching temperatures in Monaco prompting Carlos to check the weather in Mallorca, and you mentioning you’d never been there. That was all the spanish needed to organize a full weekend getaway to the island for the three of you, all under the guise of inaugurating his new boat.

You haven't yet worked up the courage to read those articles . Seeing the coverage about your on-track activities is one thing, clad in a costume and playing the part, but having your entire itinerary laid out online feels like an entirely different level of exposure.

It feels like another sign that this universe is a mere construct of your imagination, there is no way they could find you on a boat in the middle of the sea. Everything feels so artificial —or, perhaps, unnervingly real.

For a moment, you consider how ready you are to confront the topic that’s been swirling in your mind all day. Gathering your resolve, you ask tentatively, “Did you see the articles about us?”

A quick search of your names brings up a flood of results: articles and social media posts either critiquing your supposed ambition to climb the fame ladder or fawning about how great you look together. Hundreds of photos and videos have emerged, supposedly capturing moments where you are seen looking ‘longingly’ at each other during interviews or gravitating towards one another during pre-race activities. You won't lie, you enjoy those last ones way too much.

A brief silence falls over the scene. You lift your gaze to meet his, as if expecting something —an answer, reassurance, you’re not quite sure.

“I did�� Lewis confirms with a nod, his voice nearly lost to the breeze.

You drop your gaze, your fingers absently tracing the seam of your dress as a pout forms on your lips. “You know, the others were teasing me about it.”

“Were they?” his voice carries a hint of mock surprise, as if he anticipated this would come up “Who? Leclerc?”

“No, it was Lando. And well, Daniel and Carlos too” you clarify, recalling how they were basically fuelling each other, although the mention of the Monegasque has your alarms blaring “Wait, why Charles?”

"Oh, Daniel too?” Lewis highlights the McLaren’s driver name with a chuckle, completely ignoring your question “And Carlos... well, I’m not surprised about that one, after that... effusive celebration”

You give his leg a playful slap, pretending to be exasperated by the teasing. You know the journalists are going to have a field day with your hug in front of the podium. You’ve already seen a few of those photos making the rounds on social media. But it really doesn’t matter. The press can speculate about a relationship between you and Carlos, or any little interaction between you and the rest of the drivers, the truth is far less dramatic.

Following in on his joke you mention the only driver who has been left out, “Not Lando?”

“Maybe, who knows?” he throws the question out into the universe, his eyes steady on yours.

Neither the universe nor you offer him an answer, only crossing your arms and letting out an exaggerated sign. Honestly, it is more of an excuse to scan the balcony’s guests, taking in their scattered forms and quiet conversations.

Sensing the lull in the conversation, Lewis offers you a sip from his drink. You eye the glass, considering whether to indulge in another round. The couple drinks you already had still swirling around in your head, a lingering attempt to calm your social anxiety. With a slight nod, you accept the glass and take a tentative sip. The cold liquid burns its way down your throat, a sensation that makes you scrunch your nose in distaste. You promptly hand the glass back to Lewis, casting him a puzzled glance.

What’s in there? It’s the embodiment of a poisoned peace offering. The taste lingers unpleasantly, settling heavily in your stomach.

The British man watches with an amused smirk, barely concealing it as finish what’s left of the drink himself, finally setting the empty glass on the coffee table with a soft clink. He turns back to you, his expression now more composed, and says softly, “If you’re worried about the press, we can always give it a rest for a while. It’s fine by me”

Although you try to conceal your reaction to the proposed solution, even Lewis is surprised at the way your eyes shot up to his. The idea of purposely avoiding each other during race events seemingly a tough compromise in that moment. Despite your growing familiarity with the chaotic world of Formula 1—two months of navigating this madness have certainly made an impact—Lewis has been a constant source of comfort amid the frenzy, a steady anchor for your sanity.

“I mean...” you clasp your hands over your lap, nodding along to the plan, although a bit disoriented “Yeah, sure, whatever you think is best”

Lewis catches your hesitation, reading the unease on your face. His expression softens as he opens his mouth to speak, a thousand unspoken words hanging in the air. But before he can say anything, his attention shifts to something behind you.

“What are you doing out here?” the familiar question comes before strong arms wrapping around you in a warm hug from behind the sofa. The voice, laced with genuine happiness, whispers into your ear “I’m so happy you’ve come,” making a pleasant shiver run down your spine.

You lean against Carlos’s shoulder, melting into his embrace as best you can with your arms pinned beneath his. The sweet scent of his cologne and the faint hint of alcohol mix in the chilly air, intensifying the comforting warmth.

“I was chilling for a bit” you reply as he pulls away. You offer Lando a wave when he appears behind Carlos’ figure. They both sit at the sofa by your right, the older one placing his drink on the glass table, and you let out a tired sigh “I don’t know how you guys do this. I’m exhausted.”

It is a miracle that you are still awake and attentive at this hour, let alone engaged in conversation. Normally, you’d be out like a light by now. The physical and mental demands of a Grand Prix weekend usually leave you running on fumes, barely making it through airport security as Nick guides you to the next spot on the calendar. And yet, these men —who have actually spent almost two hours driving at breakneck speeds in a state of extreme focus— can seamlessly transition to partying all night, just hours after the race.

“I’m fine actually” Lewis instantly assures, with a shrug, leaning back into the sofa. His playful tone not fully registering until you hear Lando’s laugh.

It has not been the best of days for the British driver. Afterall, the nasty collision that sent his car flying at the first corner, forcing him to retire after just two laps. The incident plays on a loop in your mind, the memory of his car flying across the air still vivid. You reach over and squeeze his hand. “That was scary,” you admit, the concern in your voice unmistakable.

Lewis grimaces, an exasperated sigh rolling out of him.

“Careful what you say, Lewis,” Lando snickers, glancing between you and Carlos with a mischievous grin. “We’re in an Alonso slander-free zone here.”

Carlos shoves Lando playfully to the side, and you are quick to interject, your voice a touch louder than needed. “Yes, we sure are!” you assert, refusing to let anyone criticize the Spaniard. Especially when you, with your limited but growing F1 knowledge, are certain the collision wasn’t at all his fault. “And you are one to talk anyway, we’re not in a Lando slum-, what was it? well, whatever-you-said free zone...”

Alright, your English is beginning to falter. Not a good sign.

The implications of your jab seem to strike a chord in the younger man, who abruptly incorporates himself in the sofa, curls bouncing over his head with the motion. He clasps his hands together and leans over his knees, ready to argue his case “Oh, really? Let’s talk about it, then”

You’re equally eager to dive into the debate, fuelled by a mix of liquid courage and post-race indignation, he almost smashed his car into yours mid-race. You have not suffered through a two-hour post-race debrief for nothing “Well, first of-”

Eyes wide, hands frozen in the air, you hear it—a familiar beat filtering through the club’s glass door. “Oh!” The word slips out as a huge grin spreads across your face. You recognize the opening notes immediately, and your gaze darts to Carlos. “Gasolina, ¡Carlos! ¡Gasolina! ¡No me lo creo!”

You leap off the sofa, excitement bubbling over as the music pulses from inside the club —though you feel a tad bit lightheaded. Your sudden movement draws the attention of nearly everyone on the balcony. Realizing this, you offer a sheepish smile and a quick wave in apology before lowering your voice. “C’mon, let’s go inside,” you urge Carlos, practically bouncing on your heels. The thought of dancing to the iconic song fills you with a giddy anticipation.

But the man doesn’t move. Instead, he stares at you with a bemused expression and groans, “I just came out here!”

Your enthusiasm wavers as you glance between him and the door, a pout forming on your lips. You really want to head inside, to lose yourself in the music for a while, but the idea of going alone feels daunting. You have had enough encounters with strangers claiming to know you for tonight. Maybe Carlos’ presence would act as a deterrence, or at least steal all the attention. Plus, you simply want to enjoy the song in the Ferrari driver’s company.

The excitement slowly dies when you watch him pull a tired grimace, the strain from the day probably catching up to him once the adrenaline was finally wearing off.

With a tilt of your head, you ask one final time, “No?” Your voice is softer now, tinged with a hint of defeat as you begin to turn back towards your seat.

Just before you can sit back down, Carlos reaches out and grabs your hand, prompting you to help him get up from the sofa. He rises with a slow stretch, shaking his head with a resigned chuckle. “I don’t even like dancing” he complains, though his grip is firm and reassuring as he stands beside you.

You beam up at him, grateful for his company. You gesture to Lando and Lewis, inviting them to join, the mix of alcohol and excitement making your nerves tingle. Yet, although they both seem entertained by your enthusiasm, they decline your offer as quick as you extend it.

With a shrug, you turn back to the club entrance, Carlos following reluctantly. His light-hearted complaints become background noise as you bob your head to the rhythm of the song. “Por fin ponen una buena y tú... (They finally play a good one and you...)” you tease him, but suddenly feel a tug on your hand.

You look back at the driver, confused by what made him come to such a sudden halt, and find him greeting someone. Well, not just someone.

“Charles!” you exclaim, quickly leaning in to hug him, your hand still linked with Carlos’s.

The man’s face brightens with a warm smile. “How are you? Haven’t seen you all night.” His light eyes sparkle as they meet yours, but there’s a flicker of curiosity as they glance at the linked hands between you and Carlos.

“I’m fine! We’re going in ‘cause I love the song, want to come with?” you hastily explain, the rhythm of the song already arriving to the chorus fuelling your eagerness and not mixing well with your foggy brain.

His smile wavers slightly, gaze bounces between you and Carlos as he finally decides that “No, it’s alright. I’m going to cool off for a bit. You guys have fun.”.

Charles watches you disappear into the flashing lights and thumping music, turning back toward the dimly lit terrace. The night now feeling just a touch colder.

Author's note: I was missing writing so much, hope you liked it. Thank you all so much for reading, any kind of interaction is greatly appreciated!

Taglist: @purplephantomwolf @raye2000 @yuiiimd @drezzerk33 @leclercdream @homie0sapien @minkyungseokie @carlossainzwho @rewmuslupin @kyuupidwrites @raevyng @lazybot @gills-lounge @hiraethrhapsody @jjkclub @darleneslane @therealcap @aespie

#lewis hamilton x reader #carlos sainz x reader #charles leclerc x reader #daniel ricciardo x reader #f1 fic #formula one x reader #f1 x reader #f1 x you #formula one x you

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thewalkingwillowtree · 3 months ago

Text

Courting Ayelýn

Series Listing Found Here

Aonung x Original Na'vi Female Character

Summery: Pressured by his parents to enter a formal courtship, Aonung rebels in his own way and what starts as a ruse, turns into something real.

Note before reading: This is a spin off of my Safe Haven Series.

Reading Safe Haven is not necessary to follow this story.

Some characters have been aged up. Aonung in particular is 25.

Ayelýn is my own creation. *Pronounced Aye-Lin

Part 1 - When They Met

“You want us to… what?”

“Court. You and me.”

“Clearly you’ve gone and lost your head.”

Months Before…

Aonung stormed out of his family’s marui after yet another argument with his parents. Their demands were already ridiculous, but their constant reminders at every family meal were becoming annoyingly overwhelming.

The anger and irritation inside of him was building, festering and threatening to make him do something he knew he’d regret.

He was also about ready to punch something… Anything!

Clicking his tongue, he called for his skimwing and the second he reached the edge of the pier, he was leaping off and diving into deep crystal waters. Tsaheylu made, and at his command, the water beast shot off, taking him further and further away from his home… away from Awa’atlu.

Mind distracted in a jumbled mess of fury and frustration over the situation at hand, Aonung let himself be blindly carried through the ocean.

His parents had given him a deadline to find a woman to court. A woman he was then expected to eventually take as his mate.

And honestly, it bothered him just how much of a shock the news had caused for him when he was told. Aonung had known all his life it would eventually come- it was expected of him- his birthright.

But was it worth the pain it came with?

“You should know better,” his father would say. “Be better.” Aonung was constantly criticized for his training techniques… his life choices, his decisions… his ways. It was, “do as I say,” and “when will you learn?” and… “you disappoint me.”

Nothing was ever good enough!

Words of honor and commitment and duty were forever shoved down his throat at every given opportunity. And although Aonung still considered himself a rebel and a rule breaker in his circle of friends, he was very much stifled and controlled.

It was why most of his daydreams involved him running away. Daydreams of him leaving behind the duty, and the expectations… the fucking title.

But he couldn’t leave.

Tsireya.

And Khalhan- his little brother.

Aonung could never desert them.

Damn his parents. Damn the entire situation.

Fuck it all.

For the remainder of the day, Aonung spent it by himself. Hidden away, he brooded, wallowing in self pity. It wasn’t until the sky began to change, suns slowly sinking into the sea that he considered leaving his shaded haven.

A sudden muffled swear however, followed by a thunk, pulled Aonung from his thoughts. He couldn’t fathom who would have possibly ventured this far out to the abandoned, tiny island he considered his own.

Curious, he climbed over a short wall of moss covered jagged rocks, only to find… a female.

He was unable to see her face from his position, but she was clearly upset, angry even, judging by the way she kicked the canoe that was half docked, half bobbing from the sway of rolling waves.

“Oh you stupid thing! Couldn’t you have waited until I reached the reef line?”

He snorted when a curse escaped her again, along with another thump, from the serve of a fierce kick.

“Having fun there?” he called out.

She startled at the sound of his voice, flinging her body around, knife drawn from her hip in preparation for danger.

“Don’t do that!” she hissed when she found that it was just a loitering Na’vi. “I could’ve hurt you, you fool. You shouldn’t sneak up on people like that.”

Aonung approached, hands lifted in surrender. The tip of her knife brushed his stomach as his eyes darted between her and the weapon.

Head titled, he noted that she barely reached his chest and her puny blade looked so dull, he was certain she wouldn’t be able to make much- if any damage with it.

“I highly doubt that, but if it makes you feel any better,” he shrugged, ignoring her pretty scowl as he moved to inspect her canoe. It was laden with laundered items, so with ease, he pulled it all the way onto the shore. “What seems to be the problem with this?”

“It’s got a leak,” she huffed, sheathing her blade. “I tried patching it before I set out this morning, but-” Head snapping toward the sea, she glanced around in immediate panic. “Wait, where are we-” Her stomach dropped at the sight of a significant flag blowing in the far distance. “Are we near Awa’atlu?”

It was only at this question did he take note of the purple and brown string of beads dangling from a lock of her tangled, messy hair. “You’re from the Keftxo village,” he said stupidly. It now made sense to him why she didn’t immediately recognize him.

She sized him up when her eyes found his own string of blue and brown beads- Awa’atlu beads to be precise- attached to the sheath on his hip- her expression almost daring him to say something.

And he would have… but for some reason he held his tongue.

“I… got turned around,” she mumbled, thumbing at a small scar on her shoulder. The almost healed cut had ripped open in her haste to keep both her and her canoe safe. Thankfully it was no longer bleeding. “Riptide, along the eastern sharp rocks.”

“Riptide?” he repeated in alarm. “Why in Eywa’s name are you even traveling near there?! It’s high tide. Were you trying to get yourself killed?”

“W- Did you not just hear me say I got turned around and caught in a riptide?!” Tail flickering in annoyance behind her, she gestured to the vast ocean before them. “It’s not as if I had any control! I left Keftxo before dawn and now look where I am! Oh, and I’m fine, by the way. Thank you, for your concern,” she snarked.

His gaze traveled the length of her body, spotting no other injuries. “Are you really?” he asked sincerely.

That gave her pause. “Yes.”

He didn’t believe her but accepted her answer anyway. “Alright then.” Kneeling beside her canoe, his brows creased incredulously. “Just how old is this damn thing?”

“It’s fine!” she exclaimed in offense, crouching beside him to inspect the damage. “Only needs a bit of mending.”

“A bit?” He flicked at a thick, crusty patch of reinforcement. “You’re better off without it. I’d scrap it if I were you. One wrong turn along a pier and it be nothing but a pile of fucking splinters.” He snickered. “Who even made this thing? The work is shoddy, a mess of piss poor craftsmanship, sloppy carving. Look- even the design is off. How did you get it to float?”

Nostrils flaring, her chin jutted out at his words. Aonung was pretty sure he’d be dead if her glare was a dagger.

She muttered a slew of very creative swear words under her breath that had him raising his brows and while he should’ve been insulted, he was rather impressed.

“Scrap it… scrap it?! I’ll have you know, I fixed it up myself! This canoe was specially gifted to my father by council elder Fjid!”

Aonung snorted. “Fjid?! The old man hasn’t been on the council in over a decade. And what does he know about canoes? Last time I saw him, he could barely tie a knot.”

“I know we just met, but does anything good ever come out of your mouth?”

“Actually. I’ve heard my tongue does wonders,” he boasted cockily, tracing the tip of said tongue along his bottom lip sensually.

Instead of swooning or blushing like he thought she would, revolution clouded her features. It threw him off honestly.

“Who is the nearest mender in your village?”

Aonung blinked. “W- I can mend it for you,” he offered, getting to his feet quickly when she looked about ready to dive out.

“No, thank you… Mender?”

“Wait…” He pointed to himself, baffled by her reaction to him. “Are you upset with me?”

“Hm, let me think,” she hummed sarcastically, pretending to ponder. “I almost died from a riptide, got washed up near Awa’atlu of all villages. My canoe has a gaping hole in it and the first person I’ve come across who I thought could maybe, possibly help me, insults its craftsmanship and tried to crudely insinuate that I let him please me with his so-called wonderous tongue… So, yes. I’d dare say I am upset with you.”

She blew out a gush of air. “Now… would you please tell me where I can find your nearest mender.”

Aonung led her to a marui on the outskirts of his village where many canoes were lined docked along the pier it was connected to.

All the while throughout their journey there, he couldn’t help tossing glances at his new found companion. A companion he found to be scruffy and slightly volatile… but also… pretty. Very pretty.

Her reactions towards him were slightly refreshing- she clearly didn’t know who he was- status included - something he was keen to keep hidden from her for a bit longer for some reason.

He found great amusement every time she caught him staring- her face morphing into an unimpressed scowl that most definitely read, fuck off… He was right, because a second later she was signing those two words right at him and speeding past, purposely sending a wave of water his way.

Oh he liked her alright.

Was it terrible that he loved pissing her off? That scowl did it for him, honestly, especially the one she gave him after he’d caught up and yanked on her tail, signaling that they had to travel in the opposite direction.

When they’d reached the shoreline, her annoyance towards his theatrics had subsided. Distracted, it was evident that she was trying not to gape at her surroundings, and failing to.

Unbeknownst to him, Awa’atlu was in every way different from the little village she’d grown up in. While of course there were some similarities, Awa’atlu screamed life- brightness, adventure… promise.

His companion was so rapt up with her awed surveying that Aonung was secretly glad she missed the few passerby’s reactions to him.

Two women he'd slept with on two separate occasions, flirtatiously waved at him. And then there were also the overly respectful nods and gestures from others that were becoming obvious.

Desperate to avoid running into anyone who’d try to stop and chat, Aonung gently tugged on her elbow to change their direction. “This way.”

The mender available to help seemed rather enthralled by the pair that had come to visit him that day.

Hythspon, while no longer in his youth, but nowhere near considered old, stood for a full solid ten minutes watching the bickering two hurl snides and sly comments to each other, all while trying to come to a decision.

His future chief wanted the Keftxo female to leave with one of the newly crafted canoes Hythspon had available, while the unnamed metkayina wanted to simply have her own canoe mended and be on her way.

“I told you already, the thing is a deathtrap! Are you trying to get yourself killed? Because at this rate, I’m starting to think you are!”

“It’s not a deathtrap!”

“It is!”

“Not! It’s perfectly fine!”

“So perfectly fine that it almost killed you?! Sorry, gorgeous but you need to let it go. It’s time.”

“No. No, no. The riptide almost killed me, skxawng, the riptide! And for future encounters, the decent thing to do would be to ask about someone’s well being after facing a catastrophe like that! Not, lecture them as if they're stupid!”

“Well you wouldn’t have ever been in that situation if you had ditched the fucking thing and worried about your own life! You seemed to think so too since I found you kicking and swearing at it!”

“I already apologized for the kicking!”

“Yo- you,” he spluttered incredulously. “Did you actually apologize to a pile of splinters?”

“Canoe!”

“Deathtrap!”

“It just needs a little love and care, I told you!”

“Aha! Love and care? I’m sorry, gorgeous but that thing is way past love and care.”

“That’s the second time you’ve done that now. Stop calling me that!”

Anoung paused… then, head tilted, he grinned wickedly. “Gorgeous.”

“UGH! Why do you insist on behaving like such an annoying little kit?! Even my brother is more mature than you and he’s eight!”

“Oh-ho! So me trying to stop you from harm's way is-”

The clearing of a deep throat halted their argument and also made them simultaneously straighten up and put a little distance between them. At some point during their feud, they’d ended up merely inches apart.

“Well, as much as I’ve enjoyed this rather entertaining ordeal,” Hythspon chucked, “I would like to get on with the rest of my day.”

“Right, sorry,” she mumbled in embarrassment, tail curled as though she wanted to hide herself behind it.

Hythspon’s solution in the end was to loan her a canoe. He’d have someone find her own and promised to mend it to his best and then have it returned to her- which she was ever grateful for.

That left Aonung with nothing else to argue about and the minute Hythspon gave her an oar, she was dashing off. Before he could think of running after her, she stopped abruptly at the marui’s threshold and pivoted.

“Um, thank you. For your help… skxawng.”

“You’re welcome… gorgeous.”

She scowled, but he didn’t miss the tiny twitch of her mouth. He probably imagined it but he thought for the briefest moment that she’d almost smiled.

Walking along the pier, Aonung watched her row until her silhouette faded into nothing more than a blob in the distance. Confused by the unknown churning he felt in his chest, he shook his head and finally turned away.

It wasn’t until later that night as he waited for sleep to claim him, that he realized something…

He hadn’t gotten her name.

In the blink of an eye life went on.

The Sullys were gone and a few months later, Awa’atlu received word that Xilä- Neteyam’s mate had given birth to a healthy baby boy.

Left behind was Lo’ak of course, who’d decided to stay at Awa’atlu for good. Much to no one’s surprise, the forest boy was officially courting Aonung’s sister, Tsireya.

Whilst Aonung and Lo’ak had started off on rocky footing initially, they both had quickly overcome it in their youth, and dare say even become close friends since then.

And even though Aonung’s immediate confidant was Rotxo, Aonung found himself confiding in the Sully brothers more often than not.

Neteyam had given him some good advice when Aonung had first opened up about his worries to find a mate. Advice that he was actively trying to practice. Neteyam had told him not to look- not to stress and worry. That Eywa would show him the way eventually… But his patience was wearing thin and time was also running out.

Arguments with his parents had intensified and the gossip and whispers about his “playmate” days being over, had spread. Though it was the truth.

Gone were the days and nights of fucking and fooling around with playmate after playmate. He hadn’t been with a woman since after Neteyam’s chat with him that night.

It was harder than he thought- not getting his dick wet on the regular. Not only was it painful at times and he had to get rather acquainted with right hand, but it also put him in a foul mood most days.

Aonung was secretly proud of himself however. Every time temptation tried to lure him, he didn’t give in. He was serious. He was trying… Even though he had his doubts.

And then, just like that, his year was up.

And still no woman from Eywa.

“Bro… Are you shitting with me right now?”

A disgusted expression formed on Aonung’s face. “I do not shit with you, brother.” He shook his head. “Your human sayings are quite vulgar, do you know that?”

Lo’ak ignored him, focusing instead on the bombshell of a confession Aonung had just shared. “Can we go back to the part where you said you lied to your parents about having a courting partner?”

Aonung grimaced. Not only because the words sounded just as bad coming from Lo’ak’s mouth, but also from the sour flavor of the pungent booze he and his friend were passing back and forth.

“I didn’t know what else to do.” His jaw clenched at the thought of the tongue lashing he was in for when the time came for him to confess.

Ronal had the spirit of the Great Mother running through her veins. Aonung knew his mother didn’t believe him when he’d told her his news earlier that day.

Fuck.

“Okay. Let’s start over, man. Why would you even do that?”

Right. Lo’ak didn’t know everything. Neteyam did.

Slightly tipsy as he and Lo’ak sat along the shoreline, waves kissing their feet, Aonung divulged, telling his friend every detail all over again, because, what else was there for him to do?

“Damn, that’s just… damn.” Lo’ak sighed, slightly stunned by the angry rant Aonung had just given. “You’re lucky it’s not as bad as Neteyam- he had a fucking blood oath.” He winced at his choice of words. “Sorry, cuz.”

Aonung paid him no mind however, his gaze instead distracted and locked on the horizon before them as Lo’ak went on a long winded rant of his own.

“- all one fucking mess, this whole elders’ tradition thing. If you ask me, brother, I’d just get some poor girl to pretend to be in love with me- ya know, appease the parents, then just have her break your heart… and then-” Lo’ak drank another healthy mouthful of their booze, “and then everyone would feel so sorry for your moping ass, they’d give you a break over this whole courting thing… I’m sure of it.”

Aonung’s head snapped to his friend, slightly stunned.

“What?” Lo’ak glanced behind him for good measure, but nope, Fishlips was staring at him. “What?” he asked again.

“That’s… that’s actually a good idea.”

“The shit I just spewed?”

Aonung cursed at the burn from anther sip of the liquid he swallowed. Why was it worse each time? “Yeah. I think I’ll just do that.”

Lo’ak plucked his bottom lip in thought. His mind was hazy but not that hazy. He probably hadn’t heard right. “Pfft. You’re yanking my tail.”

“No, I’m serious,” Aonung said, sitting up as his mind started whirling. He twisted to face the Sully man, taking another shot of the disgusting, throat burning spirits. “It’s the perfect plan. Just before the formal ceremony, I’ll have her break it off, but by then I’d have “fallen in love”… My parents wouldn’t push anyone on me after something like that.”

“Dude… I was fucking joking,” Lo’ak emphasized. Then, paying attention to the determined look on the man’s face, Lo’ak shoved his shoulder. “Skxawng, you’re not seriously thinking of going through with this?”

“Why not? It’s good advice- Hey! I was going to drink that!”

Lo’ak had snatched the waterskin they hid their liquid stash in. “I think you’ve had enough.”

“Fuck you.”

Facing the metkayina man fully, the omaticaya shook his head. “Listen… back at Home Camp, there’s a saying, don’t ever take advice from Lo’ak. Now usually I’d be offended, but right now, I think you should listen to the masses… Also, I’m pretty sure you’re drunk. Better yet, we're both drunk.”

Aonung waved him off. “Lo’ak. This plan could actually work.”

“It could also blow up in your face.”

“Then that’s a risk I’m willing to take.”

“You’re that desperate?! Reya’s got so many female friends, why don’t you-”

“No. I wouldn’t ask that of my sister. I know myself and it’s this unspoken rule between us anyway. I don’t play around with her friends, and she stays clear of mine- even if she’s never been like that- like me.”

“Nice. Guess I’m the exception then?” Lo’ak grinned.

“You’re not my friend,” Aonung deadpanned.

“Ouch!” Lo’ak pretended to be hurt.

“Are you going to help me with this or not?”

“Dude, I really love your sister. And I’d really like to stay on good terms with your parents, you know, so they’d let me continue to court her?! If they knew I helped you with this they’d toss me back to the forest before I could even plead my case!”

Aonung squinted at him. “Tsireya’s made you soft,” he taunted.

“Nice try, but I have two new badass tats that say otherwise,” he replied, gesturing to the intricate ink that adorned his left arm, and right shoulder.

The corner of Aonung’s lips twitched. He was secretly proud of the forest boy. Lo’ak impressed them all with his determination to learn their metkayina customs.

He’d been through grueling challenges that endangered his life and partook in lengthy, traditional ceremonies all for the chance of love. All for Tsireya. No wonder it was so easy for Aonung to approve of their match.

Lo’ak blew out a breath and handed the booze back to his friend who took a swig. “Alright then, let’s do this fucking thing.”

“That was fast. What changed your mind?”

“I know too much. Your parents will kill me either way, especially if they knew I didn’t do anything to stop you. So, let’s get to planning properly so they don’t find out.”

“Let’s hear it then. What’s first?”

Lo’ak thrummed his bottom lip again. “First things first, we need to find you a woman. Should be easy to help you get a willing partner, you’ve already got so many swatting at your tail.”

“No,” Aonung shook his head, eyes glassy in the moonlight. “It can’t be one of them. They’d think they could handle it but they’d also think they could change me. Make me fall for them. I’m not stupid.”

“Nope,” Lo’ak agreed. “You’re just a cocky bastard… a fucking fishlip skxawng if you ask me,” he mumbled.

“Skxawng…” Revelation formed on Aonung’s face. “I think I know the perfect woman.”

Ayelýn was furiously scrubbing at a filthy mat someone had brought in. Frustrated, she cursed at whatever substance had left such a stain, praying it wasn’t blood… or worse.

Thankfully it didn’t smell like either.

She wiped at her brow, and blew out a breath toward a stubborn loc of hair that refused to be confined in her tie. This would be her last article to clean for the day.

If she could just get the stain out.

Scrubbing until her already bruised knuckles blistered, Ayelýn tuned out the sounds of the village around her.

Keftxo, was the smallest and last in the chain of fifty islands occupied by the metkayina people. Hearing countless whispers and rumored talk when she was growing up, Ayelýn found out that Keftxo, was sadly known as “the lesser” island. That included the reef people inhabiting it, also.

Despite learning this, her parents taught her to never be ashamed of being from here. It was full of the hardest working Na’vi, Na’vi who undertook jobs that may not have been the most grand but were no less important than any other.

Life in her little village was all hard work most days. Her duty, along with a handful of others was the grueling job known as a scrubber.

Everyday, canoes from their neighboring villages were filled to the brim with tarps, sleeping mats, hammocks, heavy fishing nets, tapestries and harnesses. And everyday she would spend hours scrubbing them clean.

She’d just added another sweet smelling soap spud directly to the already almost potent concoction she’d formed for this one mat, hoping the concentrated effects would aid in her task, when a familiar fine voice called her name.

“Lýn! Lýn!” Kaiiff, her little brother excitedly bounced into the marui she was in, boxy grin wide. “You won’t believe this! We have a visitor from Awa’atlu and I think he’s asking for you!”

Wiping sweat from her brow again, and mostly likely smearing herself with soap studs, Ayelýn began to rinse out the stubborn article. “No one from Awa’atlu knows who I am, Kaii,” she said with a forced smile, trying to mask her tiredness from the ball of life in front of her.

“Lýnnn, I’m serious. He described you perfectly. Asked for a puny, scowling female and even said you have a tiny scar on your left shoulder. At least that’s what Talu said he was asking for. And who else in the village could that be?”

Ayelýn paid full attention to her brother now, brows scrunched in confusion. Before she could ask, two individuals were entering the marui behind her brother, flanked by a very obvious crowd of onlookers behind them.

Her father seemed uneasy as he approached her, suspicious eyes flickering from her to the man following close behind him.

“You!” her lips spat in fury before her brain could comprehend who exactly she was seeing.

“Hello, gorgeous,” the familiar stranger greeted- rather loudly too, once again with that stupid smirk of his.

“Ayelýn?” her father called. “You know the Olo'eyktan’s son?”

Ayelýn audibly inhaled- shock clouding her features at the revelation that the wall of a man before her- the man she’d practically insulted quite a few many times now, was none other than their Olo'eyktan’s son.

Aonung…

Ripples of not so hushed whispers from Lýn’s workmates echoed behind her as her face paled in mortification. Despite the reveal, she had never wanted nothing more than to punch the stupid smug smirk off his face, mirth dancing in his eyes because he knew… that she knew now.

“Ayelýn,” he voiced as though testing it out- her name sounding sinful coming from his lips.

Time seemed to have sped up, because in a matter of seconds, quite a few things happened.

The first being, Aonung’s surprisingly pleasant introduction with her younger brother and her mother, who’d quietly snuck into the mix as well- her cheeks tinting as she bashfully patted Aonung on the arm for thinking that she was Lýn’s older sister and not her mother.

Having enough, Ayelýn snapped rather rudely, interrupting their small talk. “What are you doing here?”

“Ayelýn,” her mother hissed in disbelief. “Have some respect.”

“Sa'nok, you don’t under-”

“No, it’s okay. I know my presence is a bit of a surprise… I was actually hoping to have a word with your daughter, if you’d allow me,” Aonung directed to her parents, tone dripping in charm Ayelýn knew was probably- most likely all an act. “Somewhere private if possible?”

“Oh! O-of course, of course,” Bwena replied, grin stretching so wide that Ayelýn thought her mother’s face must hurt. She was ever eager to encourage whatever was happening here. “You may use our marui. Ayelýn will show you! Go on, Lýn,” her mother quipped, bodily shuffling her forward and even taking a fast second to try to hastily wipe away a streak of soap residue from her brow.

“No- wait-”

Protesting was futile because before she knew it, Ayelýn found herself in her family’s shabby but quaint, tiny marui- quite alone with a towering Na’vi and his stupid smirking mouth.

It annoyed her how much he was enjoying this- whatever this was.

Her eyes tracked his every move as he observed her home. It wasn’t as nice or grand or even tidy like the ones she’d snuck glances into during her brief visit to Awa’atlu, and she suddenly found herself feeling self conscious- lesser than… and she hated herself for it.

When he finally returned his attention to her, his lips did a funny little quirk as though he were trying not to laugh.

“What?” she snapped.

Instead of responding, he snagged a cloth from a line of clean drying articles and approached cautiously, surprising her when he began to gently wipe at her brow and down her cheek. His other hand held her chin in place, thumb and forefinger keeping her still as he worked in silence.

Ayelýn didn’t know why she allowed him, but something gave her pause… maybe it was the way his smell attacked her senses- salt and spice and comfort.

“There you go,” he hushed, voice rumbling deep and wrong. “All pretty again.”

Senses betraying her, she forced herself to take a step back. “What are you doing here, Aonung?”

“Looking for you.”

“Mm, I gathered… You’ve created quite the spectacle and now it will be all my village talks about until I’m frail and old.”

“That’s dramatic… and presumptuous of you.”

“Presumptuous? Me? Oh-” she scoffed. Oh the nerve of him. “I have lived here all my life and I have never seen you step foot in Keftxo. You’re the one that walked into my village- like you own it mind you-” She gave him a flashing warning glare when he tried to rebut, because technically he did own her village. “-looking for me! Can we get this over with so you can be on your way? What do you want?”

Mouth set, he shrugged casually. “I want us to form a courtship. A formal one.”

When Ayelýn didn’t answer, his head tilted, trying to catch her attention as he poked her shoulder. “Did you hear me, gorgeous?”

“Hm? Oh yes, I did. Nice joke. I'm just too tired to laugh though. Now what do you really want?”

“I’m… not joking,” he enunciated slowly, peering at her in concern, as if she were the one saying crazy things. “I want us to court and-”

“You want us to… what?”

“Court… You and me.”

Ayelýn snorted. “Clearly you’ve gone and lost your head.” But something about the way he kept staring at her however popped the amusement bubbling at her chest. “You’re being serious right now, aren’t you?”

He nodded.

And for the first time, she saw his sincerity shining through.

“So, what do you say, Lýn?” he asked with an expectant smile, using her nickname as though they were old friends.

“Absolutely not!”

Hey, you lovey people!

I’m sure you all know the drill by now, please let me know what you think. 💛

Parts 2 & 3 are mostly complete and just need a full edit, so be sure to share anything in particular you’d like to see happen.

Tags:@jakesullyfatjuicypeen@granddearduck@riatesullironalite@strawberri-blonde@earthling55 @innercreationflower @duckworthbean @gyuventure @btsiguess-kpop@blkmystery@neteswife@luvteyams@isnt-itstrange@erenjaegerwifee@faatxma@ivysully@bakugouswaif@pinkpantheris @mntx666@ironcaptainnataliabarnes

#safe haven #courting ayelyn #aonung #aonung mini fic #aonung fanfic #aonung x reader #aonung x female reader #aonung x y/n

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gguk-n · 6 months ago

Text

All of this is fiction. All rights are reserved

This is my masterlist, I do not allow any transfer, translation or reposting on any other platform. This is the only place I post fanfiction and if you see someone reposting with a name other than gguk-n please let me know! thank you.☺️ P.S. I use Y/N and the reader uses she/her in my stories.

Masterlist

Requests are open

500 followers celebration series

Formula 1

Requests

Lando Norris

SMAU

Please, Please, Please Stranger in the sun

Imagine

Hate you Last Straw

Fading Shadow

Laps of deceit

Max Verstappen

Imagine

The Exception Unravelling Max's Mystery In another life

SMAU

Medicine & Motors Short n Sweet Tracks & Beats

Logan Sargeant

Imagine

Mission- Cheer up Logan Unforseen Affection

Oscar Piastri

Imagine

The illusion of destiny

Tragic Circumstance Growth & Realisation

Grand Prix morning Accelerating Emotions Your brother's Oscar Piastri? Daddy dearest

SMAU

From Pitches to Podium Notes and Nitrous (Jeon Jungkook's labelmate!Reader)

Charles Leclerc

Imagine

The Sky Between Us Replaced

Transition

SMAU

Rewritten Headline

Arthur Leclerc

Imagine

Luxury in Love’s Blind Spot

Eternal Luxury

Lewis Hamilton

Imagine

Renewed Passion

Falling for You Again

SMAU

Racing Smiles

Carlos Sainz Jr

SMAU

Harmonies on the fast lane Destined for Carlos Jokes in the cloud

Imagine

Safe Haven Pivotal Choice Arranged for Love

Lance Stroll

SMAU

Lights, Camera, Stroll

Fernando Alonso

Imagine

Fernando's protege Wheels of Desire

Yuki Tsunodo

SMAU

Fri(end)s

Zhou Guanyu

SMAU

High Speed Hearts

Daniel Riccardo

Imagine

Alternate Universe Balancing Act (Jung Hoseok's Manager!Reader)

Franco Colapinto

SMAU

Turned Page (Park Jimin's ex!Reader)

BTS

Kim Seokjin

Hybrid!Seokjin x reader Overtaking Hearts (Lando Norris's Race Engineer!Reader)

Jeon Jungkook

Royal Heart (Crown Prince!Jungkook x Maid!Reader) Yes or No

Kim Namjoon

Cinematic sparks (Lewis Hamilton’s sister!Reader)

Min Yoongi

Heart on the grid (Sebastian Vettel's God-daughter!Reader)

Kim Taehyung

Canvas of Memories (Charles Leclerc's ex!Reader)

#gguk-n

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frudoo · 6 days ago

Text

Bells Ring (5)

Title: Blue Light

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Warnings: Violence. Fat-shaming, name-calling.

MDNI

Lottie has seemingly decided that your time is better spent sulking in the garden than in your bedchambers, and although it took practically all morning for her to drag you out from the place you’ve now deemed your own personal safe haven, you find that she is right. The sun is shining, reflecting off of the crystal clear water cascading from the mermaid fountain, but the heat is never overbearing as there is a cool breeze that always relieves you before the first bead of sweat can drip down your face. She had accompanied you for the first hour or so, but eventually she had to return to her housekeeping duties and therefore left you all by your lonesome. It doesn’t bother you, though—quite the opposite. In the days since you learned of Ewan’s affair, you’ve found that your own company is quite pleasant. There is no risk of being deemed a fool if nobody is around.

There’s a berry bush on the trail that leads further into the woods. You and your husband were known to absolutely strip the poor plant of its fruit back when the two of you were still hopelessly in love—most days were spent on the swing he’d had the woodsmiths build for you, feeding each other the ripe pickings and making love until the sun hid beneath the earth and the moon made itself known in ethereal beams splayed along your lush body. Your heart drags your feet back to that very place before your mind decides to think better of it. There are minute imperfections where the pigment has peeled from the wood, but the swing is still beautiful as ever, if not more so by the years weathering it, making it look well-loved.

The seat creaks when you fall into place. You haven’t sat here in what could be well over a year, possibly two. It’s as comfortable as you remember albeit less warm than it should be without another body snuggled up to yours. The breeze that had been giving you grace now seems vindictive, nestling beneath your skin and taunting you from the inside out. Wrapping your arms around yourself, you plant your foot on the ground and kick back so that the swing starts rocking. It adds more chill to an already unpleasant experience but you hold out hope that the movement will eventually warm you up.

You were right—not long after rocking, it starts to become pleasantly warm, and the chills that had risen in bumps along your skin make their way back beneath the surface. It makes you yawn, dreariness pulling at your eyelids and coaxing them shut. You vaguely feel the brush of lashes against your cheeks before sleep takes you.

Nightfall comes quickly, crickets chirping beneath your feet and the gentle twinkling of stars illuminating the dark sky. Despite the newfound chill in the air, your slumber remains undisturbed. King MacTavish is not so lucky. No, he’s hanging on by a thread that’s frayed, ready to snap at a moment’s notice.

Quite an unwelcome visitor has wandered her way inside of the palace—his home—trotting around like it’s her God-given right. Worse is the fact that the queen seems to accept her with arms wide open, like this so-called guest isn’t the reason the prince’s marriage has failed. It irks him beyond belief to see how uncaring everybody around him is of the situation at hand. It enrages him.

“Ewan. Come, now,” the king hisses, making no attempt to hide his disdain for the concubine his infidel son’s arm is around.

Coralie is gingerly guided away by the queen’s hand, amber eyes that John once considered home glowering spitefully in his direction. He scowls in return, scruffing the back of the prince’s neck and pulling him into the nearest room—the library. King MacTavish barely waits for the chamber doors to slam shut before he shoves the prince against the wall. The younger man shouts in pain at the feeling of his head hitting the hard surface, wide blue eyes staring down at his father in horror as rattling decorations tumble to the ground.

“Quite the nerve ye ‘ave, boy,” John snarls, malevolent fingertips tight around Ewan’s throat. “Ye bring the whore ye betrayed yer wife wit’ tae the house in which she resides?”

“F-Father, she ‘as nae other place tae go!” His usual buttery-smooth voice is rocky with fear and self-preservation.

“D’ye plan tae fuck ‘er in yer wife’s bed as well? Dress ‘er in the princess’ own gowns?”

Ewan shakes his head, brows furrowing and unfurrowing as if he wants to say something, but his mouth remains shut.

“If ye’ve summat tae say, speak.”

Still, silence. The king pulls him forward by the neck just to slam him into the wall again, much harder than before. If it weren’t for the life still in his eyes, John might have assumed he just cracked his son’s skull.

“Answer me!”

“Nae! Coralie ‘as brought ‘er own belongings. She would ne’er wear such… tainted fabrics.”

“Tainted? Ah seem tae recall ye bein’ the one tae betray yer vows, yet ye refer tae ‘er garments as tainted?” The older man scoffs in disbelief.

“No’ ‘er garments alone. She is tainted,” Ewan huffs exasperatedly, wincing as his head pounds with every syllable he forms.

“She is a woman who cannae bear children, Father. She is cursed by God, an’ He ‘as given me another chance-”

“Ah suggest ye stop speakin’, lest ye-”

“Ah willnae stay loyal tae a broad o’ ‘er stature!” The prince blurts, and his father stills—he takes it as a sign to continue speaking. “A reit fookin’ hog she is. Ah mus’ ‘ave been blind tae e’er marry ‘er.”

King MacTavish is speechless for a long moment. His hand releases its firm hold on Ewan’s throat and drops to his side uselessly. Cerulean eyes dart along the floor and trace the shapes of each misplaced wall decoration before landing on his son’s face, watching as the pigment returns. His lips part with a sticky smack when he finally opens his mouth again, his tone eerily calm.

“Ye’re goin’ tae leave mah palace, and ye’ll take yer whore wit’ ye. Shuid ah see either one o’ye return, ah willnae hesitate tae order ‘er execution. Ye ‘ave until dawn tae gather yer garments an’ wha’ valuable possessions ye’ve obtained elsewhere besides mah own events.”

He leaves Ewan sputtering where he stands. Strong legs carry him away from the library, past his bitch wife and his son’s slut, past the guards and into the peaceful scene of the moonlit garden. The birds’ songs have been replaced with the rustling of leaves in the crisp wind, and the golden hue of the sun has retired in order to let beams of blue spread over the foliage. John is almost sure he can see steam rising off of his heated skin. It’s easier to pretend he’s not riddled with unrest when the world is so undisturbed and he’s not staring his fury right in the face.

King MacTavish walks until his head is clear and his heart beats steadily, until he’s circled the exterior of the garden three times and his calves start to burn. He sighs and makes his way to the middle of the plot where he knows there’s a swing. He can see it through the delicate bushes and it makes his joints thrum with relief just at the knowledge they’re about to get their much-needed rest.

In the dim light, he almost doesn’t make out the shape of your sleeping silhouette taking up half of the furniture. John approaches cautiously, watching the rise and fall of your chest attentively. You look deliciously tranquil, trapped in that blissful state of unawareness, and although you do seem perfectly content, his heart can’t bear the thought of leaving you out here all alone.

He carefully slips his strong arms beneath your body and gently lifts you up, securing you tightly to his chest. He stands there momentarily to ensure that your slumber has not been disturbed, a satisfied, amused smile tugging at his lips when a gentle snore leaves you. The king finds you absolutely stunning like this—wispy hairs stuck to your tacky forehead, round cheeks puffed out and bottom lip pursed in a pout, soft stomach and breasts jiggling beneath the layers of clothing you wear with each long stride he takes.

King MacTavish nods at the guards as they hold open the palace doors for him. Their armor clinks and it makes you stir, cloudy eyes blinking open in confusion. You nearly panic when you realize you are no longer lounging on the swing outside. You swipe the sleep from your eyes and look around your surroundings before your gaze lands on the face above yours. You yelp, trying to sit up only to feel that you are being carried.

“Y-Your Majesty! Wha- wha-?”

Nowhere near as concerned as you, the king leans down to press a kiss to your temple. You stammer, but you cannot deny the warmth in your chest and belly that comes from the gesture. Truthfully, you’re not entirely sure that he did it consciously.

“Hush, hen. Back tae sleep ye go,” he whispers, gently nudging open your chamber doors with the toe of his boot.

Despite the bizarre nature of the situation, it takes nearly no time at all for you to doze back off as John tucks you into your bed. It’s far too intimate a deed but it is natural, like second nature to the both of you. He trails his fingertips along the peak of your cheekbone, and your eyes flutter open once more.

Gazes meet before lips do, both soft and intense, spontaneous and intentional. You pull away first. He nuzzles his nose against yours.

“Will- will you stay with me?” You ask under your breath, perhaps hoping that maybe your voice would be small enough that the king could miss it. “Just until I fall asleep?”

The longer he studies you, the longer your lashes flutter at him without the hidden bite of lust or seduction as Aiyla usually gives him, the more he realizes how much of a fool the prince truly is. To let go of an angel like you is blasphemous, an act of treason in John’s eyes. The innocence in you, the lack of knowledge of who—what—resides in your husband’s room just a corridor away, it coaxes the king into your bed quicker than he can consider what’s deemed proper for a man of his authority.

John wishes he could protect you like this forevermore, shield you from any and all hurt that dares glance your way, keep you safe and warm in his arms where you fit so snugly.

He’ll have to settle for this one night.

Taglist: @gazsluckyhat @bingoz @variety-fangirl @thevoiceinyourheadx

#call of duty #cod #cod mw2 #johnny soap mactavish #john mactavish x reader #john soap mactavish x reader #soap x reader #john soap mactavish #reader is fat #royalty au #SoundCloud

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aquaticmercy · 11 days ago

Text

The Future’s Overdue

Summary : A year after breaking up with Sam Wilson, he shows up at your doorstep.

Pairing : Cap!Sam Wilson x ex-avenger!reader (written with she/her in mind, but I don’t think there’s gendered language in this)

Warnings/tags : mentions of violence and trauma, cursing. Mild alcohol consumption. Angst with a happy ending.

Word count : 3.7K

Note : This fic was inspired by the song ‘Overcome’ by Nothing but Thieves. And of course the Brave New World trailer. That flight suit? Phew. When he sliced that truck in half?? Have mercy on me my god. I do have a couple of other requests for Sam but I have so many WIPs and series so please bear with me. Enjoy!

You first met Sam in Washington, when Steve realised Hydra was growing inside of S.H.I.E.L.D.

It was the day three helicarriers got shot out of the sky.

You and Sam were initially just two operatives thrown in the mission together by coincidence— and a little persuasion on Steve Rogers' part.

When the dust settled, you found a strange comfort in each other, a kind of trust that only comes from people who've survived the same battles together. It was a friendship— one you had with Steve and Nat, too.

But Sam was unlike anyone you’d ever met. He was compassionate without being naive, funny without sacrificing his strength, and fiercely loyal without ever being overbearing. Everyone in your line of work fought with anger or a sense of duty— and Sam did, too. But he also fought with his heart, with a passion and a clarity of purpose that earned an incredible amount of admiration from you.

But it wasn’t until after Sokovia fell from the sky that you realised just how much he really meant to you.

The battle against Ultron had been brutal, a mission that left you questioning everything you’d come to believe.

You stood among the rubble, surrounded by your teammates, and yet you felt more alone than ever.

The realisation hit you: time was fleeting. You didn’t have forever, and you didn’t want to keep ignoring the one thing that had started to matter more than any mission you’d ever had.

So that night, you sought Sam out. The rest of the team had been decompressing, recovering, but you pulled Sam into a quiet spot away from the others, somewhere under the night sky, where the stars glimmered faintly against the smoke. You didn’t say much, just let the silence and the closeness speak for itself.

When he looked at you, something like affection flickered in his eyes, a hope that maybe he meant as much to you as you did to him. It was then that you closed the space between you and kissed him—gently, like he was made of glass.

In a way, he was. This life was fragile, and his was one you couldn’t bear to lose.

After that, you spent as much time together as you could manage. Between missions, you’d crave moments of normalcy. Walks in quiet parks, stolen weekend getaways, breakfasts cooked together in your shared apartment.

These small, simple moments began to feel like home, like the life you’d never thought you could have.

Then came the Sokovia accords.

When you and Sam sided with Steve, you didn't realise how everything could go so wrong.

Your world turned upside down again. You became a fugitive, a person without a country, constantly on the run, evading governments, ducking the scrutiny of former allies. Sam stayed by your side, fighting the same battle as you.

Despite the danger, despite the sacrifices, the exile only strengthened your relationship. He was your safe haven, the one person you trusted wholly.

One night, as you sat together in some safe house with peeling wallpaper and torn furniture, you dared to voice the thought you’d been carrying for so long.

"One day,” you said, almost hesitantly, “when we’re done running, when all of this is behind us… I want a real life, Sam. With you.”

He looked at you then, his smile one of equal parts sadness and hope. “Tell me more,” he murmured, smiling just a little.

“I want to marry you,” you confessed, voice trembling. “I want a house. Somewhere no one can find us. I want a family, Sam.”

For a moment, he was silent, his thumb brushing along the back of your hand. “One day. When the world stops chasing us,” He pulled you close, his words a quiet promise against your ear. “I’ll give you all of that.”

For the first time in a long time, the future felt like something worth looking forward to. It felt like something you could actually touch, something just out of reach but waiting for you.

His promise lingered: that once you were free, once you weren’t running anymore, you’d be able to build that life together.

But then came the Battle of Wakanda, and the life you had both fought so hard for vanished in an instant as you were both erased from existence, dusted away by Thanos’s snap. For five years, you were gone.

When you returned, everything had changed. The world was broken and scattered, When you looked at Sam, you saw it, too— the realisation that so much of everything was gone. How much of the world needed fixing.

And you knew your Sam. He would want to fix it.

You saw the responsibility that had been thrust upon him. You watched him take the shield, watched him step up in a way that was brave and selfless. Everything about this was so unmistakably Sam. Your Sam.

In that moment, you knew that the life you’d dreamed of, the one you’d whispered about in the dark, wasn’t possible— not when the world still needed him.

It broke you, knowing you had to leave, to walk away from the man you loved. But you both knew that your paths were diverging. You wanted peace, family, a quiet life that had no place in the shadow of Captain America’s legacy. And Sam, with Steve’s shield in his hands, couldn’t turn away from the fight.

It happened on a quiet evening, back in the small apartment you shared. The shadows were long, stretching across the worn wood floors, as the last light of the day reached through the windows.

Sam was sitting across from you, his hands folded on the table, and his face was set in an expression you’d come to recognize—the one he wore when he was carrying something too heavy to keep inside. You saw it in the slump of his shoulders, the way his usually loving gaze couldn’t quite meet yours. You reached out, caressing his arm.

Finally, you broke the silence. “Sam,” you said, voice wavering. “Are we okay?”

He looked up then, his eyes meeting yours, and the sorrow there was enough to make your chest tighten. “I don’t know,” he said quietly. “I don’t know if… if I can give you the life you deserve.”

The silence stretched on, thick and heavy, until finally, you pulled your hand from his. “Then we have to let this go,” you said, voice cracking with finality. “I can’t keep waiting for a life that isn’t going to happen.”

The look in his eyes was almost unbearable—regret, pain, and love all tangled together, raw and unguarded. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice thick.

“I’m sorry, too,” you replied, your vision blurred

The first tear drawn came from him. “I’ll always love you,” he said, his voice a quiet, broken promise.

You looked at him, feeling the truth of those words resonate in your lungs. You would always love him too, but love alone couldn’t bridge the gap between the lives you wanted. It was heartbreaking, knowing you’d finally found something so good, only to have it slip through your fingers.

You stood up, needing to move before you changed your mind, before you broke down completely. “Goodbye, Sam,” you whispered, barely able to get the words out.

“Goodbye,” he murmured, holding back everything he couldn’t say. He didn’t try to stop you, didn’t reach for you as you turned and walked toward the door.

You both knew that if he did, you wouldn’t have the strength to walk away.

–

In the weeks after the breakup, you tried to convince yourself it would get easier, that the pain would fade. But the truth was, every day only sharpened the ache. It was clear that your lives were leading in opposite directions now, that Sam was destined for something larger than either of you had once imagined.

He had the shield, the responsibility, the weight of a legacy that he hadn’t chosen but that fit him as naturally as if it were always meant to be his.

And you? Well, after retiring, you finally had the quiet, the simplicity of a life you’d always craved, but it felt hollow without him.

You still loved him, of course.

That was the hardest part.

There was no switch to flip, no way to undo the love that had grown in the depths of your heart. And he loved you too— you knew that as surely as you knew that the sun would rise tomorrow, the kind of knowledge you felt deep in your bones.

But you both recognized that clinging to each other, seeing each other, would only deepen the hurt. So you made the hardest choice, cutting contact to give yourselves space to move forward, even if it felt like cutting out a piece of your heart.

You would go through your days thinking about Sam, feeling his absence as a phantom weight by your side. Sometimes, you’d catch yourself reaching for your phone, feeling the urge to share a thought, a joke, a memory— only to remember he was gone from your life now.

It was a loneliness harsher than any pain you’d felt before, and you've been shot at and stabbed multiple times. Sometimes, you couldn’t help but wonder if he felt it too— if he missed you as much as you missed him.

Months went by, and the world kept turning, but you could never fully escape him. And then one day, you saw him on the screen. It was in the news, footage of Sam at the Smithsonian, standing before the shield as he laid it down, offering it back. You watched in stunned silence as he walked away from the legacy Steve had entrusted to him. He looked so different from the man you’d known—tired, torn, and full of questions only he could answer.

Still, you knew he’d only given up the shield, not the fight. There was still that fire in his eyes, that drive you knew he would never fully let go of. He was still your Sam, the man who couldn’t stop helping others even if it meant losing himself in the process.

Then came reports of his work with Bucky Barnes. You caught glimpses here and there: videos of Sam fighting, speeches to crowds, images of him standing strong and proud, still doing the work he believed in. Each clip, each mention of him in the newspapers you read was like reopening the wound, bittersweet in a way that only true love could be.

And then, one day, you saw him on the screen again—but this time, he was wearing the Captain America suit.

The shield sat on his back, the way it once had been with Steve.

His face was calm, resilient, and he carried himself with a confidence that you hadn’t seen in a long, long time. As he stood before a crowd, addressing the nation, his voice rang out strong and clear. He spoke of unity, of justice, of how much work still lay ahead.

There was something fiercely proud and unmoving in his stance, as if he had finally found a purpose that felt right, a cause he was willing to fight for as himself.

The people around you could hardly believe it.

But you did. You always did.

As you watched him speak to the world, you felt your heart swell with pride. He finally stepped into a role he was born for, embracing everything that came with it— the good and the bad. You felt a deep, overwhelming admiration for him— the same one you had felt all those years ago.

The man you love had found his calling. He had finally stepped into the legacy he’d once doubted. And though he was miles away, speaking to millions of people, it felt as if he was speaking to you. It felt as if he were telling you, Look, I made it. I found my place.

—

It had been over a year since you’d last seen Sam in person. But then, you heard a knock—a familiar rhythm, one you'd both come up with in those times of hiding, a signal you’d memorised to mean ‘it’s safe to open the door.’

Suddenly, all those buried memories resurfaced. You took a deep breath and walked up to the entrance, fingers trembling ever so slightly.

When you opened the door, he was there.

He stood tall, carrying an air of quiet confidence that you had missed.

“Hey,” he said softly, that deep warmth in his eyes settling on you like it always had. “I know you’re retired, but I… I need your help.” He hesitated, shifting his weight, a hand rubbing the back of his neck. “This mission… there’s something I just can't figure out. Tactical consulting, just advice, you know.”

Your heart gave a painful thud, torn between the part of you that had finally let yourself step back and the part that had always been drawn to Sam’s gravity. There was something in his eyes, in the way he looked at you—was it hope? Regret?

“Come on in,” you said, your voice surprisingly steady.

Once inside, you cleared space at your kitchen island, pulling out blueprints and maps from him and laying them between you. The small counter seemed even smaller with Sam standing across from you, leaning close as he unfurled more documents. The scent of his cedar aftershave filled your home in a way that felt so heartbreakingly familiar. You poured the both of you a glass of wine.

It didn't take long for you to settle into the rhythm. Soon, you were bouncing ideas back and forth, memories and laughs slipping through the cracks as you strategized, just like old times. You caught yourself chewing on the back of your pen—an old habit that Sam had always found adorable—as you debated where each exit and entrance might be. When it came time to relay the guard rotation, Sam scrunched his nose in that familiar way that always meant he was uncertain. You couldn’t help but smile, reminded of countless memories just like this one.

As the hours passed, you felt yourself relaxing, dropping your guard bit by bit. You found yourselves laughing over old missions, sharing stories of close calls and narrow escapes. When Sam’s hand brushed yours as he reached for a pen, there was a tension there that you couldn’t ignore, something that had always been effortless between you.

Then, as he raised his glass for another sip, his gaze landed on the roses on your counter— a fresh vase of red roses, bold and out of place in your otherwise grounded kitchen. He paused, frowning slightly.

“Red roses?” he asked, glancing back at you, a surprised smile lifting his lips. “You don’t like them. You always preferred pink ones.”

You felt a small pang of sadness, realising that after all this time, he remembered that small detail, one that even you’d almost forgotten.

“I didn’t buy them,” you replied, trying to keep your tone casual. “A date brought them over. A couple of days ago.”

The words fell into the awkward silence between you. For a second, you saw the surprise flicker across his face. “You’re… dating again?” he asked, almost in disbelief.

“Yeah, well…” You gave a light laugh, trying to brush it off, “had to fill the void you left somehow.”

It was meant to be a joke, but the words cut deeper than you’d meant it to.

He looked down, fingers trailing the edge of his glass, lost in a thought he wasn’t ready to voice.

You wanted to break the tension, you had to. “What about you?” you asked, forcing a smile. “I mean, look at you. You’ve got to be dating, Sam. Come on. You’re still the most handsome man I know.”

But he shook his head, his expression solemn. “No,” he said, his gaze fixed on the wine swirling in his glass. “I guess I just haven’t moved on.”

The words struck you like a lightning strike, filling the room with a tension neither of you could ignore. For a moment, the breaths you took felt too thick, too charged. You watched him, studying his face, seeing a quiet pain etched into his expression as he finally looked up to meet your eyes.

He broke the long silence, his voice low. “Is he… good to you?”

You let out a shaky breath. “He’s… he’s alright. We’ve only been on a couple of dates. It's not like we’re… exclusive or anything.” You paused, trying to find the words to explain. “He’s a nursery teacher. Sweet, good with kids.... But nothing serious.”

Sam nodded, a faint, bittersweet smile touching his lips. “Good with kids, huh?” his voice was filled with an ache that twisted in your chest. “Just like you always wanted.”

You felt a wave of frustration and sadness rise up. “Yeah,” you replied softly, almost to yourself, before you could stop. “But he’s not…”

The words caught in your throat, but Sam didn’t let you off easy. He leaned closer, his eyes searching yours with an intensity that took your breath away, “He’s not… what?”

“He’s not you, Sam,” you whispered, the words spilling out before you could take them back. And you didn’t want to.

Something broke in him— relief, pain, and longing all at once. Without a word, he reached across the counter, his fingers finding yours. He walked around the kitchen island, sitting on the stool next to yours. His skin was warm as he closed the distance between you. His hand moved up, cupping your face as his eyes traced over you, like he was taking in every detail, every piece of who you were now.

You were still you. But you had grown without him. You had found your peace, just like you always wanted.

He leaned in, and his lips brushed yours in a trembling kiss.

The moment he felt you return it— the moment he felt the familiar force of your kiss, he deepened it. His hands slid into your hair, pulling you close, desperate to feel you, to make up for all the lost moments he had to go through without you.

When he finally pulled back, he rested his forehead against yours, his breath warm on your skin.

The kiss had left both of you shaken to your core.

Sam’s hands were still on your face, his thumbs brushing along your cheeks, making sure you were real, and that this wasn't just one of his dreams about you. He searched your eyes, looking for something to reassure him this was more than a moment of weakness.

“We can do this,” he whispered, his voice raw, almost frantic. He believed now, he needed to make you believe, too. “Clint—Clint made it work, right? A family, a life— he did it. He’s raising kids and still comes back when we need him. We’ll talk to him. I’ll ask him, I’ll ask him anything, I’ll do whatever it takes.”

He swallowed, his breath shallow, his desperation pulling him closer to you. “If that’s not enough, if this— if me being Captain America is what’s in the way, then I’ll… I’ll give it up. Just say the word. I swear, I’ll give it all up if that’s what you need. None of this—none of it means a damn thing without you.”

The words hit you hard, more sincere than anything else you’d ever heard him say. You saw the same unwavering love in his eyes, but this time it came with a willingness to do anything, sacrifice anything, to make room for you in his life.

It terrified you because you knew he meant every single word.

You closed your eyes, finally feeling the burn of tears that you barely managed to hold back. You reached up to hold his face, your fingers brushing along his jawline.

“No, Sam,” you said, your voice shaking but unbreakable in its resolve. “You’re not giving up the shield for me. I’ve seen you out there. I’ve watched you bring people together. And I… I can’t be the reason you walk away.”

He shook his head, his eyes pleading. His breath came quicker. It was moments like this when you realised that he was human. Not a super soldier. Not enhanced.

He was human with an unnatural resilience.

“But if this is the only way to have you—”

You can’t help but interrupt him, before he dug himself a fantasy so deep that he would struggle to get out of it. You closed the small gap between you, kissing him again. His arms wrapped around you instinctively, holding you like he never wanted to let go. You could feel the tremor in his hands, the way his breath hiccuped, so close to breaking. When you pulled away, you pressed your forehead to his, calming his silent pleas.

“Listen to me,” you whispered. “You are Captain America. That’s a part of you, and I would never forgive myself if I took that. But that doesn’t mean we have to give this up,” you added, willing him to understand. “I want to try again.”

He closed his eyes, taking a deep, shuddering breath. For the first time in a year, he was letting himself hope again. “You’re sure?” he asked, his voice barely a whisper, vulnerable in a way you’d never heard before.

“Yes,” you said, your voice steady, filled with a conviction you hadn’t felt in years. “I want you back.”

The relief on his face, the gratitude, was like sunlight breaking through a storm. He leaned in, pressing a kiss to your forehead, and then another to your lips, softer, filled with a tenderness you had missed so damn much.

“I’m all in,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. “I don’t care what it takes. We will make this work.”

As you nodded, he lifted you into his arms, spinning you around. For the first time in a year, your giggles filled your quiet kitchen. When he set you down, his gaze landed on the flowers once again.

“First on the agenda,” he said, smiling mischievously, “we’re getting rid of those damn red roses. I’ll get you pink ones tomorrow.”

You laughed through happy tears as he pulled you to the couch, the mission he had come to consult you for forgotten, even if only for tonight.

You watched him leave the blueprints behind to spend time with you, when he would’ve been obsessing over a year ago. This time, you felt a conviction that he was right— that it would work.

This time, he was willing to compromise. And so were you.

-end.

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echantedtoon · 8 months ago

Text

Quite A Handful Ch1 Aizetsu, Sekido, Urogi, Karaku, And Hantengu

Sometimes it was a handful to have so many husbands.

(This is inspired by @starrcityyy's Hantengu Wife Y/n art. (Warnings: Their blog does contain NSFW elements and themes that not everyone may like or be comfortable with. Just a heads up. But this WILL STAY Sfw.) I did ask if they were fine with someone writing drabbles inspired by their au before writing this, and they mentioned that they were fine. This is probably not gonna be very long and it's from the perspective of a female reader.

Wife Y/n Concept- @starrcityyy

Demon Slayer- Koyoharu Gotouge

Warning: Karaku IS his own warning. Possibly some innuendos. Mentioned killing.)

The thunderstorm I'm the distance between the roof and sky haunted the eardrums as the storm drew ever closer in the darkness.

There truly was nothing but the warmth of the small fireplace within the cozy small house in the middle of the woods. A cozy small hideaway nobody knew but you and a select few individuals. It would shield you well from the harsh elements and keep you safe and sound from the outside. It was your own little safe haven. Just yourself to worry about now.

The bubbling pot of soup on the stove wafted in waves making even the most stuffed person desire to eat it as you smelt it. A hum of satisfaction left your throat as you nodded and took your hand off the soup ladder after stirring it a few times. This would surely last you a few days. Cooking enough food to last you a few days was always good. Having leftovers only meant you didn't have to cook over a hot stove for a good while. It left you time to focus on other things. Speaking of other things- F/c eyes turned to the door as thunder drew ever closer and closer judging by the sounds in the distance. Now where are they?

They usually weren't this late.

It was sort of a pattern by now. Usually the first one to show up would be the most skittish one after he runs away from whatever danger scared him. Cowering by your legs and hugging you for comfort. Then depending on how hard the task was, the other four would follow right after either sooner or later. Like said it depended on how hard her husband's work was that day. You supposed tonight would be a hard working day. Until then you busied yourself by picking up a broom to start sweeping up the floor. The faint sounds of broom bristles scraping on the floor added to the crackling fire and the distant thunder. Perhaps that's why-

You didn't hear anything when the door opened.

You didn't see the demon crawling it's way inside scuttling like an insect.

Didn't sense the figure looking behind you until deadly claws wrapped around your form.

"Hi. You're home late," you casuay said not bothering to look up at the form trembling as it clutched onto your kimono. "What happened to you this time?"

"Not my fault! N-Not my fault! The hands that had killed them were not mine!", a voice sobbed and croaked out between cries.

Yep. Seemed about right.

"Are you hungry? Or did you already eat out tonight?"

"*Hic* I didn't do iiiiiiitttt!!"

"You already ate then. Good to know."

By now you could already interpret what he meant by his rambles. Wasn't always easy though especially when he had the tendency to go on for ages. An insistent series of weak shaking tugs told you all you needed to know about what he wanted. Without batting an eye, the broom was placed to the side and she assumed the position of turning around and doing the familiar process of hugging the sobbing demon closer to her while he sobbed into the folds of her dress. Make no mistakes. He had the outward visage of a weak old man but he was far from weakly.

"Shh. Shh. There, there now. You're ok. Nothing's going to hurt you. You're alright." Her hand soothingly patted over his back and head being mindful of his horns.

"Monsters. Monsters! All of them! Putting blame on me when it wasn't my.." his voice dissolved into muffled sobs and whimpering in the fabric of hee dress she could barely make out.

It times like this it would be a while before he was able to pull himself together and this time would be no exception. You spent the better half of an hour just calming him. He had completely almost calmed down when again the door was opened but with much more force. The door frame rattled from the five of the door sliding open and the sound echoed throughout the room. The loud sound had him squealing in fright again and scrambling to hide behind her legs gripping onto the fabric of her dress.

"HONEY, I'M HOME!~"

"Shut UP, Karaku! My head is killing me!"

"It's not my fault you let yourself get hit by that boulder.~"

"YOU'RE THE ONE THAT BLEW IT TOWARDS ME YOU ABSOLUTE IMBECILE!!"

"Then next time don't stand in my way ~"

"WHY YOU STUPID-!!"

"That's enough both of you. Your fighting is making me sad."

Footsteps approached and by the screams she could already tell who else had shown up. One. Two. Three. AAAnd four more demons dangerous and strong. One holding his head annoyed and scowling. Two looking amused by his anger and smiling. And one last one looking a mixture of 'over this' and slightly worried.

"Hi, honey." You smiled at them. "How was work?"

"Miserabl. G." Your husband rubbing his annoyed temples didn't even look up.

"AW. Sekido's just upset because he got a boo boo.~ Big deal.~" Said green eyed husband rolled his eyes when his angrier counterpart shot him a dirty look, but soon put all his focus into giving her a wolfish grin. "But enough about him.~ What's our cute little wifey been up to?~"

"Cleaning. Are you all hungry? I made dinner."

"Nah. We ate before we got here." Another arm wrapped around her and pulled her against a fluffier wing in contrast to his sharp claws that pulled her against him. "But it's so cute seeing you all domestic. Makes me just wanna gobble you up!"

"Let's not eat her. That'll just make all of us sad."

"Aizetsu. I-...I was just joking. Y'know?" Your blue eyes husband just stared. "You know. Like a joke I did just for fun. ...You did know that right?'

".... I'm going to be keeping a very close eye on you from now on."

"Aizetsu, Im serious! It was just a joke. I wouldn't really eat her!"

The veins on Sekido's forehead got bigger than before as Aizetsu stared down a now slightly intimidated harpy demon and Karaku laughed at all three of them. Meanwhile the trembling demon behind you finally let go of your dress in favor of hiding his face in them but still his behind you. Your head tilted in concern at Sekido. Out of all five of them, he seemed to be the only one in genuine pain.

"Well enough of pleasantries.~" Karaku smoothed his bangs to the side before pressing an arm on the wall above your head and giving a bigger smirk. "I've missed this pretty thing.~ How about you and me-"

He fell silent as you suddenly ducked under his arm and out of Urogi's grip. Hantengu squealed as his makeshift shield was removed and all watched as you ignored all of them in favor of grabbing Sekido's head and pulling the lightly surprised man towards you.

"You look worse for wear. Are you alright, Honey?"

Sekido blinked before scowling."Peachy. Karaku blew a dam boulder at me! My head is KILLING me."

You cooed before pulling his head lower to cradle it much to the disgruntled others' dismay. "There, there. Poor baby. Come on. I'll get you some pain medicine and have you lie down."

"I don't need to be coddled!.....But this is fine I guess."

"Do you want me to stay with you until you feel better?"

Sekido paused.. before looking at the others and giving a rare triumphant smirk that earnt him jealous frowns.

"Yes. I'm going to need a LOT of care."

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aphroditelovesu · 9 months ago

Text

⸻ The Lost Queen - XI ⸻

— summary: You woke up near a military camp without remembering how and why you got there, you didn’t understand why they were dressed like ancient Greeks, all you knew was that you weren’t safe and you needed to get out of that place as soon as possible. Too bad for you that you found yourself attracting unwanted attention from the Macedonian King and he won’t let you go so easily.

— genre: yandere, dark!au.

— warnings: time travel, obsessive and possessive behavior, murder, mention of torture, kidnapping, angst, fluffy (very rarely), dub-con, eventual smut, pregnancy.

— pairing: yandere!alexander the great x female!reader, yandere!generals x female!reader.

— word count: 2,268.

— tag list: @devils-blackrose, @faerykingdom, @hadesnewpersephone, @mariaelizabeth21-blog1 , @kadu-5607, @zoleea-exultant, @borntoexplore11-blog, @silmawensgarden, @elvinapandra, @jennifer0305 , @his0kaswife, @animetye-23.

— the lost queen series masterlist.

Chapter 11

In agitated and pulsating Babylon, life flowed incessantly, without pause for rest. Its inhabitants were driven by an inexhaustible energy, immersed in different activities that filled their days. Under a sky permeated with seduction, the city exuded an irresistible charm, conquering all who dared to cross its limits. And in the midst of this frenzy, the Hanging Gardens stood majestically, silent witnesses to the magnificence and beauty of the city.

The city's famous Hanging Gardens not only added beauty to the urban scenery, but also aroused admiration in everyone who looked at them. It was said that it was one of the Seven Wonders and that it should be worshiped.

The story of the Hanging Gardens of Babylon was even more fascinating.

A long time ago, in ancient Babylon, the powerful king Nebuchadnezzar II reigned. He ruled firmly, but also had a sensitive heart for the beauty and well-being of his people. However, his wife, Queen Amytis, felt a deep nostalgia for her homeland, the lush mountainous region of Persia, where gardens were abundant.

To gladden the queen's heart and create a grand gift, King Nebuchadnezzar II ordered the construction of the Hanging Gardens of Babylon. Built into a magnificent structure of raised terraces, these gardens were designed to recreate the exuberance and serenity of Persian gardens amidst the hustle and bustle of the city.

The architects and engineers worked tirelessly, bringing to life a true verdant paradise in the heart of Babylon. Using an intricate network of water channels and irrigation systems, they managed to flow water from the depths of the Euphrates River to the highest terraces, nourishing the exotic plants and leafy trees.

When the Hanging Gardens were finally completed, they became a breathtaking spectacle for all who beheld them. The terraces were adorned with a dazzling array of fragrant flowers, fruit trees and lush greenery, creating a haven of peace and beauty for their beloved Queen.

It was a beautiful city, with a rich and vivid history. It would be a shame if the city fell into the hands of the savage Macedonians. The Persians believed that if the city fell into enemy hands, then the entire Empire would be doomed.

Darius knew this, he was more aware that if something happened to the city, everything would be lost. His defeat in the last battle had already been crushing, he could not be defeated again.

The Persian King sighed, frustrated and sat down on the chair in front of the table full of maps. He poured some wine into his glass and drank it, rubbing his temples irritably. He would have to do something quickly about this or risk losing everything.

The tent flap was opened and Darius frowned when he saw his detestable relative, Bessus. The man smiled mischievously and approached his King.

"You look terrible." Bessus commented, as he took a seat in front of Darius and grabbed some wine for himself.

Darius didn't respond, just drank his wine.

One side of Bessus' mouth quirked up and he chuckled, "You look tense."

"I am tense." Darius grumbled, adjusting his posture. He could never show himself weak in front of this relative of his.

"I can see that," Bessus murmured, stroking his black beard, "Maybe you need some good news."

Darius looked up and looked at Bessus, curious.

"Ah, have I piqued your interest?" Bessus laughed.

"Say it at once."

Bessus placed the glass on the table and smiled like a predator, "Our friend, Alexander, recently got married."

Darius raised his eyebrow, clearly interested in where this conversation was going.

"A certain (Y/N), from what the spies told me."

(Y/N)? It was a different name, one he didn't remember ever hearing.

"And who would this be (Y/N)?" Darius asked, placing the glass on the table.

"Someone who can be useful to us." Bessus licked his lips, as if savoring the idea. Darius stopped himself from shuddering.

"And how could she be useful? She's just his wife."

"That's why, my King. She's his wife and from what I've heard, he seems to care a lot about her. I've heard rumors that he almost killed his own General because of her."

Darius thought. Maybe she could be of help after all. If Alexander really cared so much about her, there would be an advantage.

"And from what my spies are saying, she could be pregnant." Bessus said, rubbing his hands together.

"And what do you suggest I do with this information?"

Bessus laughed darkly, "Bring her to us, Darius. I have spies ready to infiltrate the Macedonian camp, one word from you and she will be brought to us."

Darius didn't like the idea of kidnapping a pregnant woman, but these were desperate times. He could not suffer another humiliating defeat to Alexander. These were war times, after all. And all is fair in war.

Darius nodded hesitantly, "Do it."

Bessus smiled widely and stood up, turning his back to Darius.

"Bessus," Darius called in a serious, lethal voice, "Don't hurt her."

Bessus nodded, "I won't."

As Bessus exited his tent, Darius sighed loudly. He wasn't sure what he had ordered, but he knew it was too late to reverse it. He could not show weakness in front of his soldiers. Not now.

He needed to relax and so he called a name, "Bagoas."

Darius didn't even blink when the eunuch appeared in front of him and began to remove his overcoat. He needed this to clear his mind about what he was about to do.

The women looked terrified.

You felt sorry for the Persian women, the captives. It was obvious what would happen to them and you felt sick to your stomach just thinking about their possible fate. Although Alexander had prohibited rape, it was inevitable.

You would have to talk to him about it. It was unacceptable and since you were the Queen, you would have something to say about it.

You watched the Persian royal family carefully. After Darius's defeat at the Battle of Issus, he left his mother, wife and daughters behind. You already knew this story and couldn't help but be curious as you watched the women.

You were next to Hephaestion and Alexander, who were also watching the women carefully. At least these wouldn't suffer a bad fate.

Not now, at least.

The oldest of the women, who you immediately recognized as Sisygambis, the mother of Darius, approached Hephaestion and fell at his feet, prostrating herself and begging for mercy.

You bit back a laugh when you saw how Hephaestion's eyes widened in surprise.

"Please, Grand King, I ask that you spare my granddaughters..." The woman muttered, as she still had her face lowered in her hands on the floor of the tent. Hephaestion muttered something under his breath and looked desperately at Alexander.

Sisygambis turned pale when she realized her mistake, fearing that she had offended the King by mistaking him for a mere general.

Alexander decided to say something, "Don't worry, mother. He's also Alexander."

You held back a laugh when you heard the well-known words of Alexander the Great. It was like watching a movie in first person.

Alexander turned to you, "And here is my wife and Queen, (Y/N)."

You blushed a little at being called that. It was still strange and you were sure it would take a while to get used to being called that.

Straightening your posture, you smiled gently at the women, who watched you carefully. With a calm and serene tone of voice, you greeted them, ''It's a pleasure and an honor to meet you.''

Sisygambis smiled and nodded at her granddaughters, who bowed at you.

You waved your hands, "No, no. Don't worry about it, it's not necessary."

They seemed a little disoriented and confused, but they respected your request. Alexander seemed satisfied and began talking to the women.

You didn't pay much attention when you felt a wave of nausea. You bottled it up and held firm, but you knew full well what that could mean.

After your wedding night a few weeks ago, you continued to share a bed with Alexander a few times and, obviously, there were no contraceptives available and a very high chance of you being pregnant was plaguing you.

You didn't know what you were supposed to think about this. Having children had never been a goal of yours, sure, you had thought about it before, but the idea of actually expecting was scary.

You considered yourself too young to be a mother and the current scenario definitely didn't help. By the gods, you were more than two thousand years in the past, married to one of the greatest conquerors in history and possibly pregnant.

It all seemed like a very bad joke.

And there are still conflicts to be resolved. Cleitus had recovered well and an understanding between him and Alexander was made, it seems, the General forgave Alexander for trying to kill him and everything would return to normal between them. There was tension between the generals over this, but it seemed like everything would be fine.

Thanks to Hephaestion's diplomatic skills.

And there was the matter of Perdiccas.

You sighed just thinking about him. You hadn't spoken in weeks, he seemed determined to ignore you and you'd be lying if you said it didn't hurt you. You had felt something for him, but it seemed to become less and less the further away you were.

You missed him. He was one of the first, no, the first to be kind to you and someone you thought could become a friend, an ally.

But now he avoided you like the Devil avoided the Cross. When you were forced to be in the same room, he would remain silent and avoid your eyes. And when you spoke to him, he only spoke short, sharp words.

There was no longer that warmth, that kindness that you shared before.

You missed him. A lot.

But that was his choice and you would have to live with it. If he wanted to pretend that nothing ever happened between you, that you were mere acquaintances, you would do it. He could be stubborn, but you were more so.

And you couldn't put yourself at risk, not now when there was a chance you could be pregnant. This was for yourself and for this possible child.

You closed your eyes and pressed your hand over your stomach. Fearing for the uncertain future.

Perdiccas knew this was treason.

He was very aware that what he was doing could lead to him being sentenced to death. He knew it but he didn't care.

It was a crime of treason, a serious betrayal against his King, against his childhood friend and his beloved Macedonia.

But he didn't care. Something inside him just exploded on your wedding day and he knew there was nothing he could do to destroy that uncomfortable feeling.

He was jealous and angry. Jealous that Alexander had you in every way and angry with you and himself. Anger at you because you didn't choose to run away with him and at himself for not insisting.

But he was hurt, feeling betrayed. Perdiccas thought you liked him, maybe you could even be falling in love with him, but you chose Alexander over him.

And he hated you for it.

He loved you, Perdiccas knew he loved you. You awakened feelings he had never felt before for anyone and he wanted you. He wanted you just for himself, he wanted to be able to love you and adore you like the Queen you were.

You could have been happy together, just the two of you and with children in the future. Perdiccas could envision a happy future with you. You playing with his children while he watched.

You could have had a life next to each other.

But you chose to throw it all away and Perdiccas wouldn't allow it.

You would be his, one way or another.

These words repeated in the General's mind as he stealthily approached your tent with Persian spies at his side.

The camp was dark and strangely silent. Even the swashbuckling soldiers were silent.

Alexander would not share his tent today, he had much work to do with Hephaestion and Ptolemy.

It would be the perfect opportunity.

He waved his hand and the spies quickly knocked out two guards who were assigned to protect you.

Perdiccas was sure you would be asleep at this time. With silent steps, he lifted the flap of the tent and entered it, moving silently inside to where your cot was located.

He smiled like a fool in love when he saw you, asleep. You were covered by a thin blanket and your sleep seemed restless. He looked at the Persian spies and nodded.

It was now.

One of the spies approached you with a piece of fabric in his hand that had some kind of poison on it that would keep you asleep for as long as necessary.

When the cloth was placed under your nose, you woke up with a start and tried to scream, but the spy covered your mouth and pressed the cloth harder against your nose. Eventually, you stopped struggling and your eyes grew heavy, until they closed.

Perdiccas approached you and picked you up carefully. He smiled widely when he glimpsed your beauty.

Now was the time to finally have you for himself.

— lady l: WE'RE BACK, BABY! I know it took me a while to get back to this fanfic and I apologize for that. But we're back and the updates will continue as before! I hope you enjoyed this chapter and… Well, what happens now? I leave the doubt in the air… See you soon!

#the lost queen #tlq #yandere history #history #yandere historical characters #yandere alexander the great #yandere alexander the great x reader #alexander the great x reader #fanfic #long fanfic #yandere au

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agentstarkid · 4 months ago

Note

https://creativepromptsforwriting.tumblr.com/post/666926157131890688/prompt-793

Ok but what if instead of saying it to each other, Daniel sees a picture of Queen with Ruben and he says talking to someone else.

“He brought out the smile that’s reserved for the people she loves” “how do you know?” “It’s how she smiled at me”

One Year of Enchantment Celebration! | this was a fun twist! tysm nonnie <3 hope you like it!

THERE'S NO REMEDY FOR MEMORY ✦ DR3

1.2k words | no warnings | set after nepenthe | series masterlist

The air was filled with the scent of blooming flowers and the distant hum of cicadas while the sky remained a clear, endless blue. The days have been long and hot in the farm for the past couple of weeks since the season has ended, with the landscape dotted with vibrant greenery contrasting beautifully with the sun-baked earth.

This was his safe haven. Tucked far away from the media, the constant chaos of his fast-life, and all the people who would sit behind screens and criticize every tiny detail of his life and career.

This was also a place where every corner held memories; ones that were like books with chapters, strong and deeply meaningful. Books that now were on a shelf—but never allowed to gather dust.

The deck of the house bore silent testimony to the nights spent huddled together, sharing dreams, secrets and fears. Each plank seemed to hum with the energy of deep conversations, and stolen kisses. But now, those nights had vanished like the stars at dawn—just like her—, leaving behind an echo of what once was, etched into the wood and the heart of the farmhouse.

That was where you could find him most of the time—just sitting, barefoot and silent.

See, he often found himself at war with his own mind and heart these past months. He couldn't help but be swept away by contradictory thoughts.

On one side, the presence of her lingered in his mind. He still thought of the girl often, the memories of their time together refusing to fade. There was an unspoken truth he kept to himself, locked away in the recesses of his heart.

On the other side, there was Heidi—sweet, kind, Heidi. He loved her, he really did and there was no doubt about it in his heart, but somehow, it didn't feel the same. The love he had for her was real, yet different, less consuming. She was his present, a comforting reality that he was grateful for, but she couldn't erase the shadow that her brightness left behind. This inner conflict gnawed at him, making the memories of the deck even more poignant and bittersweet.

Blake found him sitting on the floor, legs bent and an arm wrapped around them while the other hand held his phone, a deep frown etched across his face. The sun cast a warm, golden glow over the scene, but he seemed untouched by the summer's brightness, lost in a world of his own.

Blake approached him, curiosity evident in his eyes, and asked, “What's got you so frowny, bro?” His voice broke through the driver's reverie, pulling him back to the present, where the weight of his thoughts momentarily lifted in the company of a friend—who's last name, ironically, was Friend.

Daniel debated between lying or telling him the truth. After a moment of hesitation, he decided he felt safe enough to share. He knew Blake would give him honest, no-bullshit advice. With a sigh, Daniel showed his manager-turned-best friend his phone, revealing a picture from a fan account.

The screen displayed Y/N and Rúben, she was smiling up at Rúben while he had his arm wrapped around her, a matching smile on his face. The image stirred a mix of emotions in him, a stark reminder of what once was and what could never be again. Blake studied the picture, understanding the depth of Daniel's turmoil without needing to say a word.

After a moment of silence, Daniel finally spoke, his voice tinged with a mix of sadness and resignation. “He brought out the smile that's reserved for the people she loves.”

Blake looked at him, a mix of curiosity and concern in his eyes. “How do you know?” he asked gently.

Daniel's gaze remained fixed on the photo, his grip tightening slightly on the phone. “It's how she smiled at me,” he replied quietly, a humorless smile gracing his face. The weight of his words hung in the air, a poignant reminder of the deep connection that had once existed and the pain of seeing it shared with someone else.

Blake took a seat next to him, the deck creaking softly under his weight. He probably knew Daniel better than anyone by now, and understood his struggles. He had seen the love Daniel had for her—massive and real—but also the toll it had taken on him during a time when he was not in the best place mentally. He had been a key witness to everything from the beginning.

“Mate, that's tough,” he said, his voice low and understanding. He debated whether to ask what has been on his mind for months, but this was the best chance he was going to get, “Be real with me for a second,” he angled his face to clearly see his, “You still have feelings for her, don't ya?”

Daniel sighed deeply, leaning his head back against the deck railing. A short silence settled between them, he exhaled slowly, eyes shut as the cogs turned and turned, eventually clicking into place in his mind—It was time to speak about the truth that has been troubling him. “Yeah, I do. It's hard not to, you know?” a wistful smile ghosted over his face, “She was a huge part of my life, bro. And seeing her with someone else, happy... it just brings everything back.”

Blake nodded slowly, absorbing Daniel's words. “But you've got Heidi now,” he reminded gently.

“I know,” he admitted, running a hand through his hair. “I care about her a lot. I love her, too. But it's different. It doesn't feel the same. Maybe it's not supposed to, but sometimes I can't help but compare.”

Blake's eyes softened with understanding. He knew why Daniel had ended things with the latina—with Sparky—, recognizing the immense strain Daniel was under at the time. But he had also witnessed the depth of Daniel's love for her and the pain she had endured when it all fell apart.

“Love isn't always the same, Dan,” Blake said thoughtfully. “It changes, evolves. What you had with her was special, and what you have with Heidi is special in its own way. You were in a rough place when you and Sparky were together, but that doesn't mean your love for her wasn't real. And it doesn't mean what you have with Heidi isn't real, either.”

Daniel nodded, appreciating his trusted friend’s insight. “Yeah, maybe you're right. I just need to sort it all out in my head.”

Blake gave him a reassuring pat on the back. “And you will. Just take it one day at a time.”

Daniel smiled faintly, comforted by his mate's presence and understanding. “Thanks, bro.”

Blake grinned, leaning back on his hands. “Anytime, mate.” he got up from his spot, and began to head back inside. “Now, c’mon, get your ass up and let’s have a brekkie. I’m fucking starving, bro.”

He let out a chuckle, and as if on cue, his stomach growled. He could hear the faint voice of his friend complaining about having been enrolled in an early morning work out unwillingly. A faint smirk played at the corner of his lips. He breathed in a good lungful, his mind clearing as he breathed out and watched the summer breeze rustling through the trees, a reminder that life, with all its complexities, continued to move forward.

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pocketjoong · 1 year ago

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☾₊‧⁺˖⋆noctem⋆˖⁺‧₊☽ 〘act 1, chapter 1〙

〘Synopsis〙『Your hatred of dragons is a hate born of witnessing their flames consume your village, leaving nothing but destruction in their wake. The worst of all is the beast that haunts your dreams, the very dragon whose memory fuels a burning desire for revenge within you. But life has a way of unsettling even the most steadfast convictions. And when you stumble upon a truth that shatters the boundaries of your understanding, you begin to question the very essence of the world you live in.』

〘Pairing〙『Night Fury!Seonghwa x afab!Reader』

〘Genre〙『FANTASY, ACTION, SMUT』

〘Word Count〙『2.1k』

〘Chapter-specific Warnings〙『Based on How To Train Your Dragon. Canon-compliant violence. Mention of injuries. Mentions of dragons attacking the mc's village. MDNI.』

〘Banner Credits〙『@playmetheclassics』

please note: there will be NO taglist for this series

With your heart pounding in your throat, you duck beneath the low-hanging arch of a weathered stone walkway, pressing yourself against the rough surface. Jagged rocks dig into your spine, but the momentary discomfort is nothing compared to the fire raining down from above. Bright orange flames dance in the sky, casting eerie shadows on the cobbled streets of your town.

Pulling the collar of your cloak closer, you try to shield yourself from the fiery onslaught, but even that is not enough to entirely dodge the few sparks that rain down on you, singeing the tips of your hair. At least it’s better than becoming a human shish-kebab, you think wryly.

In the distance, urgent shouts pierced through the roar of the conflagration, and you feel the tendrils of dread coil around your heart. You dare to peek out from your hiding place, only to see children and the villagers who are not fighting the creatures, scrambling to put out the fire that has engulfed the roof of one of the buildings. They pour buckets upon buckets of water to douse the flames, sending a few droplets raining down on you. You welcome the cold relief brought by the icy liquid amidst the heated air, thanks to the fires raging as far as the eye can see.

It’s not a new sight, definitely not one that scares you anymore; it merely sharpens your senses and steels your determination. But in your heart, you worry for the safety of your fellow villagers. The fortnightly attacks by dragons have been a grim routine, much like the twinkling stars in the night sky that had guided your ancestors to the beautiful land of Amberdale. It was named after the waters that would turn the colour of liquid gold every sunrise and sunset, a place where serenity met grandeur. But dark legends whispered only in secret tell of a day that the waters would turn red and spell your village’s doom.

Amberdale is a sanctuary of sorts, surrounded by water on three sides and imposing mountains on the other. It is a haven, a space safe from the threat of other clans, a paradise marred only by the fire-breathing pests that have made life a living hell for the occupants of the town for centuries.

From the corner of your eye, you spot a shadow descending from the sky, signalling the arrival of another winged menace. Realising that no one is around to help, you take a deep breath as your fingers tighten around the trigger of the meticulously laid dragon trap. The mechanism springs to life, and the air crackles as a net shoots towards the beast. The colossal creature crashes to the ground under the crushing weight of the entangling mesh.

As some villagers haul the ensnared dragon away, your gaze locks with the eyes of the dragon. The intelligence in its eyes and the silent plea for help send a shiver down your spine. Shakily, you look away, not wanting to think about the creature anymore.

“Move to the upper defences. We’ll counteract their attacks with the catapults!” Your brother’s command cuts through the cacophony of battle as he rallies the warriors to their positions. He appears beside you under the arch, eyes mirroring the tempest swirling within. The storm in his gaze briefly yields to surprise and concern when he meets your eyes. It’s clear that he wasn’t expecting you to be outside during an attack.

He scans you from head to toe, his sweaty and soot-stained face softening in relief when he sees that you’re unhurt. “Why are you outside? Did something happen at the infirmary?”

“We ran out of supplies, so I had to run all the way across the village to restock,” you inform him grimly, pointing at the bag dangling from your shoulder that is filled to the brim with supplies. “We really should move the warehouse closer to the infirmary, Yunho. Or better yet, expand the infirmary itself to accommodate the supplies. Not only will it save the healers from making unnecessary trips when the village is under attack, but it will also keep the medical supplies safer since the sick bay is the only fireproof building in the entire village.”

“I truly am sorry, Y/N,” your brother dips his head in a gesture of genuine regret, but you catch the weight of responsibility etched on his face. “I know you’ve raised this issue multiple times throughout the years, and I promise you it has been on our to-do list for a while, but…” he trails off with a sigh, shrugging helplessly.

You understand the cause of the delay; you truly do. There are more important things to do, like rebuilding structures destroyed in the attacks, preparing for storm week that arrives every three months, ensuring the safety of everyone during the attacks, forging more weapons and installing catapults around the cliffs, training people how to fight dragons and conducting research on the various species of the beasts that haunt your existence. There is so much to do, leaving little room to address the nagging issue of relocating a warehouse or expanding the infirmary.

“I understand we have more pressing matters to attend to,” you offer him an impish grin, taking the opportunity to nudge your brother’s shoulder with your own playfully. But the joke on your tongue dies down when a whistle-like sound you’ve come to associate with danger pierces the night sky. Instinctively, your gaze darts upward as you try to spot the source of the sound.

Objectively, you know that you should find cover to escape the inevitable attack that is to follow. Still, your fascination with this particular beast outweighs any and all sense of self-preservation. Your eyes scan the skies, hunting for any sign of the approaching peril, but, as usual, there’s nothing. There’s no telltale movement, not even a blur, that would allow you to pinpoint the location of the elusive beast.

“Night Fury,” the whisper leaves your lips at the same time as a pair of strong arms wrap around your shoulders before the person tugs you to bring you into a crouch. The abrupt movement sends a jolt through you, and you come crashing down on your knees.

“Duck!” Wooyoung’s urgent shout tears through the chaos, piercing through the clamour of battle. He shields you with his body just as a ball of fire collides with the catapult installed on the cliffs looming above you. The impact shatters the contraception and sends a cascade of stone and wood raining down upon all of you.

After what feels like an eternity, the onslaught finally stops, and you cautiously sit up, eyes scanning the debris-strewn landscape. Your first instinct is to fuss over Wooyoung since he had covered you with his body to shield you from the debris. The ringing in your ears and the reverberations of your pounding heart are momentarily drowned out by your concern for his well-being.

“Your stitches,” you frown at the red-haired male, reaching out towards where towards him. However, the male is quick to intercept your hands with his own, covering them protectively as he shakes his head.

“I’m fine. I took care to protect my injured side,” he assures you, a smile playing on his lips. His words ease some of the panic coursing through you. The moment you turn to check on Yunho, you find him already crawling closer.

“Are you two okay?” He asks, concern etched across his features as he gazes at the two of you.

“Dandy,” you mutter darkly, brushing off the debris from your cloak and cursing the blasted dragons under your breath. Now that you’re sure both males are relatively unhurt, you turn to Wooyoung with a grateful smile. “Thanks for that, Woo.”

He shakes his head, rolling his eyes good-naturedly, “Someone has to look out for you when you're not paying attention to your surroundings. We can’t afford to have our best healer getting hurt, now, can we?”

Yunho grins at his friend’s words but shifts his attention to you as you prepare to resume your journey back to the sick bay. “Do you need an escort to the infirmary?”

“Yunho, they’ll probably need you at the ballista. The other dragons we can deal with, but that menace is what we need to hunt down as soon as possible,” Wooyoung tells the taller male, regarding him with pleading eyes. Now that the Night Fury has appeared, every hunter is a crucial asset, and your brother happens to be the best in the entire village.

Yunho, caught in the dilemma of divided priorities, purses his lips. The familiar struggle between his duty to protect the village versus the instinct to ensure your safety is evident on his face. You know your brother well enough to recognise that he would drop everything in a heartbeat to ensure your safety first and foremost.

“I’ll escort her if that makes you feel better,” sensing the conflict on Yunho’s face, Wooyoung steps in to break the silence that hangs heavy between the three of you.

“No, it’s okay,” you say, sighing when both of them stare at you with concerned expressions that cause a pang in your heart. “The two of you are the most gifted warriors we have, and there’s no point in either of you sticking around to escort me to a building that's practically a stone’s throw away from here.”

“But—”

You shut Yunho down with a firm look, your voice cutting through any protest. “I’ll be fine, Yun. I’ve done this hundreds of times. Just promise me you won’t come back injured. If there is one thing I can’t bear, it’s you getting hurt.”

Yunho’s tough exterior softens at your words, and he nods in agreement, “Don’t worry about me. I’ll be careful.”

Convinced, you turn to narrow your eyes at Wooyoung, catching him off guard. He gulps at your sudden change in expression. “And you. Don’t you dare reopen those stitches, young man. It took me an hour to do these, and I will not be gentle if you mess them up. You’re almost healed, and redoing the stitches will unnecessarily delay your healing.”

“Yes, ma’am!” Wooyoung responds with a salute, straightening his posture to stand at his full height. “I promise to be careful as well.”

“Are you sure you’re okay with me leaving?” Your brother tightens his grip on the handle of the sword that’s strapped to his side. “Wooyoung can escort you. He’s not fully healed anyways, and no one would mind him sitting out of the battle for once.”

“I’d feel much better if I knew the two of you are together,” you confess, averting your gaze from both of them to take in the chaotic scene unfolding around you. Despite your efforts to seem nonchalant, you can feel both males regarding your features with probing scrutiny and worry.

Wooyoung opens his mouth to say something, but a familiar, piercing whistle cuts through the air—the unmistakable herald of the Night Fury’s return. The dragon has circled back around the mountain peak to descend upon the village once more. The noise snaps you into action, and you shove both males towards the path that leads to the cliffs. “Go.”

Yunho releases a sigh, his shoulders slumping in a resigned acceptance, and he nods. Before he and Wooyoung dash toward the mounted ballista—the only weapon that would give the village a shot against the looming beast—Yunho's hand finds yours, offering a reassuring squeeze. YOu nod back at him and watch them run towards the ballista.

“Your sister is downright terrifying when she wants to be!” Wooyoung’s voice carries back to you. His whiny tone is met with an involuntary laugh from you, mingling with Yunho’s echoing laughter, which is followed by more whining from the other male that you can’t make sense of now that they’re much farther away.

Before you step into the infirmary to prepare for the inevitable influx of injured villagers, you’re unable to resist the urge to scan the skies once more. Your gaze lingers on the moonless sky as you search for the elusive Night Fury, the dragon that no one has ever seen.

You hope that Yunho and Wooyoung can hunt it down, for even though the Night Fury doesn’t pillage like its brethren, it acts as a guardian to the other dragons. It is always there to help them to attack the village and steal livestock and supplies. Removing the dragon from the equation would undoubtedly make the task of defending your village much easier.

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restlessmaknae · 3 months ago

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&us // koga yudai (k)

One day, he was your everything, and the next day, he faded into bittersweet memories. Now, after exactly 5 years, you might be able to patch things up again.

➳ Characters: K x female reader/you

➳ Genre: childhood best friends to strangers to potential lovers, slice of life, fluff, angst, coming of age

➳ Words: 1.9k

➳ Warning: mention of snacks, expectations, an argument

➳ A/N: This story was very much inspired by the beauty that Samidare is, the header is also taken from the MV. Hence, lots of references to rain and cherry blossoms.

This story is the first installment of my 'love map' multifandom series which features 3 different idols and 3 different stories that take place in 3 different countries. The stories can be read on their own though.❤️

➳ Dedicated to: @dat-town ❤️

➳ Taglist: @wooyoung-a, @s00buwu

Koga Yudai once meant the world for you. No, he was your world, the planet that orbited around you, the gentle wind that embraced you in the long-lasting winter months and the warmth that spread on the field after a heavy storm. If he was the sun, you were the moon, and although different, you complemented each other very well.

You once believed that you were destined to meet. You were destined to walk by him and his mother as he was playing with pebbles by the river, where your friendship had all begun. You always thought of him when you heard the word ‘fate’, and you always imagined him as the kind, handsome male lead in the romance books you loved so much. If he was a famous love song, you were the one who was credited for the lyrics, your name insignificant compared to his existence.

He was the most gentle person you had ever met, his attentiveness not fading even through embarrassing teenage phases and clumsy attempts at finding yourself. Beside him, you never had to pretend who you were, you never had to play a part, and in a way, he was your safe haven. Everyone else expected something from you, but he didn’t. He was just happy to see you and talk to you, even if it was about the seemingly most insignificant things. If he was the stars, you were the sky that let him shine, but in a way, you were glad that he was there to hide the darkness within you.

One day, he was your everything, and the next day, he faded into bittersweet memories. If the betrayal hadn’t hurt so much, you might have been able to tell him a proper goodbye, but you had been too upset over the fact that he had not told you that they were moving, you had only gotten to know about it from his mother.

The distance between you two had widened for some time by that time, and that had been the last straw. With his dance practices being in the afternoons and stretching through weekends and your extracurricular classes taking up most of your time, you had barely had the time to see each other even if you lived across one another. Texts were left on read, conversations in the school corridor were cut short, and hearts were bleeding.

You still saw the same boy in him as the one you had grown up with, but some days, it hurt to look at him with all his bright eyes and sweaty locks sticking to his forehead because you had this jarring feeling stirring up something inside of you, realisation hitting you that maybe, you didn’t know him that well after all.

Even as they were packing into the car in front of their house, you watched the scene from your bedroom’s window, unable to bring yourself to say goodbye to him. So you watched as his parents bid farewell to your parents, and watched as Yudai hesitated getting into the car when he took note of your absence. Then, just a breath away from forever leaving you behind, he slipped a note into your mailbox.

You watched the empty place they left behind after they drove away on the cherry blossom-coated road for a long time before your tears stopped falling. Just as you stopped crying and stepped outside to check the mailbox, the rain started scattering, washing away the last bits of the traces they left behind, soaking your shirt that he had once given you. Through the curtain of fresh raindrops and newly surfacing teardrops, you unfolded the little note.

You once meant the world for Koga Yudai. You were his little hideaway, his secret and then not so secret best friend, the hand that reached out when he was about to fall into self-doubt, the shoulder that he could lean on when the first struggles of professional dancing weighed down on him. If you were his spring, he wanted to be your summer, so that he could give you even more warmth than you had given him, even more time together than you could spare him.

He still believed that you were destined to meet. You were destined to walk by him and his mother as he was playing with pebbles by the river, where your friendship had all begun. He always thought of you when he was dancing because you were the first one who told him to try out dancing, and your support hadn’t wavered since his first performance. If you were his favourite song to dance to, he wanted to be your favourite dance, the one that you would never forget.

You were the most hard-working person he knew, and you didn’t just work hard for school, you worked hard for your friendship, too. You remembered his favourite things and bought him his favourite snacks after his practices, and you always remembered to cheer for him when he was dancing, even if you had to ask your parents to accompany you, even if it was in a different city. Beside him, he never had to hold himself back, he could be as loud as he wanted, he could joke around as much as he wanted, and in a way, you were his safe haven. Even when he started getting noticed by others at school because of his dancing, you still looked at him the same. If you were his nighttime, the one that you could spend together most frequently because of your clashing schedules, the soothing balm after a long day, he wanted to be your morning, so that you would look forward to every day because of him.

One day, you were the most stable point in his life, and then the next day, he had to leave you behind. If he hadn’t felt so hurt by the argument you had had the day before him leaving, he would have made sure to hug you tight and say goodbye properly. Instead, like a coward, he merely left behind a note, the one he wondered if you had ever found, if you had ever read, and if you even remembered.

On the other hand, like a fool, he remembered it all too well, and year after year, he wondered if it was the same for you. He graduated from high school, then graduated from university in Tokyo, wondering if you managed to find something you liked in the meantime, and if you had ended up applying for the university in the capital city you had eyed back then. After all, that’s why he chose today’s location.

He was wondering that day too, whether you remembered the note, whether you could be bothered to make time for a visit to the Rainbow Bridge at 7 PM on 15th of May, 5 years after he had left for Tokyo with his family. Exactly 5 years. He wouldn’t blame you if you didn’t, but still, there was this seed of hope within his heart, the one that told him that the 10 years you had spent together must have meant as much for you as it did for him.

Maybe you didn’t study at a university here after all, maybe you were already working somewhere else, maybe even abroad. Maybe you had a boyfriend, and making excuses for meeting a guy friend from your past would be too much. Maybe you just didn’t want to see him again.

Still, he was waiting on one side of the bridge, leaning onto the railing, watching as vividly pink cherry blossoms from the nearby parks danced in the sky, to a music that only they could listen to. Or maybe they danced to the rapidly beating heart of his. Or the ticking of his watch that he kept checking every other second.

The next time he checked his watch, a drop splashed onto the surface. Then another and another. Yudai looked up and only noticed the dirty grey clouds above the bridge when it was already too late, and rain poured onto him like salvation, like some kind of a blanket that would drape over his shoulders and hide him from the world. So he could wait here like a fool for god knows how long more in case you showed up, though you had already been exactly 17 minutes late, or he could make a run for it, so that he wouldn’t get totally wet until he reached the next metro station.

“Maybe she didn’t find it after all,” Yudai mumbled under his nose as he looked left and right one more time before he decided to head back to the metro station.

With each raindrop, he was closer to blaming himself for even thinking that you could be here today, and closer to losing his temper. If he just shouted into the void, would anyone care? Would the May rain wash it away, too?

“Koga Yudai!”

At first, he thought that he was hallucinating. Maybe hoping too much for seeing you again actually got to him, and he was losing his mind. Yes, that was more possible than you showing up suddenly, when he was about to lose all hope.

“Yudai, stop!”

When you spoke up the second time, he whirled around as fast as he could, watching as you ran towards him in high–heeled boots and a giant pink umbrella, just like the girl in the memories he tried so hard to cling onto.

As you stopped in front of him, he could see that though you were the girl in his memories, you also grew taller, your features more defined, your hair longer, and your eyes sparkling more brightly than before. He felt like he could faint as soon as you halted in front of him like a miracle, like a dream coming true, but then you even stepped closer, so that your umbrella could cover him, and he was rendered speechless.

“I’m so sorry for being late. I was caught up in work, and lost track of time, and then, there were so many people on the metro, I couldn’t get on the first one, and-”

“You have a cherry blossom in your hair,” Yudai cut you off as he reached out to get it out of your hair. What he didn’t expect was for this gesture to feel so natural, so right, and you didn’t back away either. You just blinked at him, confused, and for a moment, he thought that he ruined everything.

What kind of idiot would tell you that you have a cherry blossom in your hair after not seeing you for 5 years? God, he was so damned…

Then, you let out a little giggle, and smacked him in the side, your laughter ringing bells in his heart, awakening something inside of him that he thought he had lost forever.

“You haven’t changed a bit, have you?” You asked with a smile so beautiful, his heart malfunctioned for a moment, but he welcomed the playful teasing, your gentle hug even more, and now he didn’t feel like joking about your height compared to his because he was just glad to have you close to him, your heart beating beside his as if it was meant to be.

You and him, and him and you, and how it became ‘us’ again.

A/N: Hope you enjoyed this story of mine! Let me know what you think!

If you want to read more stories of mine, let it be for &TEAM or for other artists, consider signing up for my taglist here.

Hope you have a lovely day/night! Take care! ❤️

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thewalkingwillowtree · 2 months ago

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Courting Ayelýn

Series Listing Found Here

Aonung x Original Na'vi Female Character

Summery: Pressured by his parents to enter a formal courtship, Aonung rebels in his own way and what starts as a ruse, turns into something real.

Note before reading: This is a spin off of my Safe Haven Series.

Reading Safe Haven is not necessary to follow this story.

Some characters have been aged up. Aonung in particular is 25.

Ayelýn is my own creation. *Pronounced Aye-Lin

Warning!! This part contains smut.

Part 4 - When They Fucked

When Aonung had asked for the two of them to do something, Ayelýn thought perhaps they’d still end up somewhere public- for show.

Maybe they’d take a walk along the beach, or even attend a storytelling event, but no.

What she hadn’t intended from his request of it being just the two of them was that it truly was… just the two of them.

Their evening started out with a late night swim. Aonung led her to one of his favourite spots- a brightly illuminated, underwater hidden gem, filled with sea fauna and flora that was too beautiful for words.

And so captivated by her surroundings, Lýn had missed the way Aonung drank her in- as though seeing her for the very first time.

Later on, they found themselves on his private tiny island, seated inside of the little makeshift structure he had crafted for himself.

The sort of lean-to design was just tall enough that Aonung didn’t hit his head when standing and wide enough that at least four Na’vi could fit comfortably.

Mismatched, frayed mats laid scattered on the sand, acting as a sort of flooring that also provided comfort, and there was even a well-worn hammock set up in a way that the amazing scenery was still within view.

Near the threshold, they sat face to face as Aonung revealed dish after dish from a sack that had already been there waiting for them. Their position also allowed them the gorgeous view of the glittering sky and sea- stars all out in their glory as rhythmic crashing waves sang.

In quick succession, laid out between them was an impressive spread that had Lýn salivating.

“My Eywa,” she whispered through an excited smile, tucking flyaways behind her ears. “It all looks so good! Is- is this hexapede?”

“Mhm,” Aonung hummed, loving her reactions.

“Where did all of this come from?”

“We got a huge delivery of goods this morning from the Omaticaya. I’ve already made sure Keftxo gets their fair share,” he said, trying not to wince guiltily. “I didn’t know any wasn’t given to Keftxo the last two times… but things should be brought down within the next few days since they’re still sorting through everything we got.”

The trading system between the clans of Pandora was well developed by now. With the use of human technology, communication was up and running, thus, enabling an established procedure.

“Aonung,” Lýn voiced softly. She had no words. He’d gone above and beyond for her little village time and time again.

He tutted at her affectionately, understanding the wave of gratitude she was trying to express.

“We got fresh meat this time around. I made us some hexepade stew and roasted hexape-”

“Wait… you cooked? You? I thought you hate cooking?”

He awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck and mumbled something incoherent under his breath and without responding, he continued pointing out the options- one after the other.

“- oh and Lo’ak gave us a couple of these things from his private stash- something called sari cakes, I think? They’re courtesy Neteyam’s mother-in-law… and finally-” He emptied a pouch that held, “Yovo fruit.”

Ayelýn gasped. “Yovo fruit? You’re kidding! I’ve always wanted to try these.”

“I know.” Aonung had gotten them specially well preserved for the journey- just for her.

He chose the best looking one of the batch and held it out to her, pleased when she leaned in to take a bite of the fruit between his fingers.

Tossing the remaining piece in his mouth, he watched as her face morphed into one of ecstasy, eyes rolling in bliss, lips licked with a moan of appreciation. Her reaction had the front of his tweng straining within seconds.

“That’s sooo good,” she sighed.

“Fuck, Lýn.” He cracked his neck, willing his body to calm down. “Can you try not to kill me so early tonight?” he half begged, half teased.

It took her a split second to catch his meaning, but when she spotted his obvious situation- one he made no effort to hide, she managed to mumble an apology through a mortified blush- though a small part of her was pleased she had that much of an effect on him.

Conversation, fun and flowing after that, they talked about everything and nothing as they indulged in their Omaticaya delicacies- sharing and feeding each other bites of food with exclamations of “you have to try this!” and “oh Eywa, this one is amazing!”

And when their bellies were full and satisfied, their attention fell on the view before them.

A light breeze ruffled their hair while they sat in comfortable silence- both minds preoccupied.

Fiddling with his bottom lip, Aonung tossed fleeting glances Lýn’s way- a question on the tip of his tongue. And unbeknownst to him, Lýn was also sneaking her own peeks- finding him far more captivating than their scenery.

Momentarily distracted by a leather waterskin almost sort of hidden behind him, she couldn’t help ask, “What’s in that? Did we forget to try something?”

“Hm?” He turned to see, then, “Oh, no. That’s not for you to try. Lo'ak said it’s lethal. Some insane concoction called Spir’ytüs.”

Ayelýn looked affronted. “What do you mean not for me to try? I want to try it.”

“Sorry, gorgeous but no.”

“All I’m asking is for a sip!”

“Lýn, you can barely handle the lightly fermented ones we make here.”

“Says who?!”

“Uh- says me? Says that one time you were stupid enough to have a competition with Rotxo and I had to carry you back to your parents inebriated and had to explain to them that it was in no way my fault, yet your father glared at me as if I had fed you every sip myself!”

“That was one time! You know I usually hold my spirits well!”

“Yeeah. I’m not taking any chances. Especially with something I haven’t tried yet.”

Determination blazing through her gaze and boldness taking control, Lýn crossed over to his side, careful of the spread that separated them, and in the blink of an eye, she was planting herself in his lap, knees on either side of hips.

At her shocking actions, Aonung worked his jaw, eyes flickering to her lips before returning to her eyes. “You’re playing a very dangerous game, Ayelýn.”

“Am I?” Her palms danced down his skin, starting from his shoulders, feathering down his chest to land flat against the hard panes of his stomach. They rounded his sides with clear intent on the pouch behind him. “Not if I win,” she whispered in his ear.

Like lightning, he caught her wrists and clutched them in one hand. Her feeble protests died rather quickly when he lifted his knees- making her land exactly where he wanted. The jaw dropping shock on her face at the intimate feeling of him pressed up against her warm heat was worth the painful ache it came with.

Lýn could do nothing but watch as he used his free hand to pop off the top of the waterskin and take a deep swig of its contents.

He tried not to wince at the burn but failed- it was sickly sweet and definitely fucking potent.

“I win,” he rasped, triumphant grin stretching wide and taunting as he tightened his hold on her wrists- not that he needed to, since the minx in his lap put up no fight.

Never one to back down, Ayelýn arched her brow as if saying really? And then she surprised him yet again by leaning in and kissing him- tongue darting out to taste the essence of the sweet spirits lingering on his lips and tongue.

She’d stolen her taste.

It happened so fast, Aonung barely had time to register, because she was then leaning back with a satisfied smirk and smacking her lips with a pleased hum.

“No… I think I, win.”

But Aonung was quick to retaliate. Greedy and demanding, he devoured her with the type of kiss that had her dizzy within mere seconds.

Wrists released, her hands framed his face as their lips and tongues danced- moving to a tune that worked in perfect symphony.

“Stay,” he begged against her lips- finally asking that question he knew he shouldn’t be asking.

He chased after her when she tried to break their connection, stealing one last firm kiss before she managed to push him backwards.

“Aonung, this is a bad idea.”

Logically, he knew she was right.

It was a terrible idea.

Eyes roaming over her, he licked his lips. At some point he had released the tie that kept her wild hair confined. She was stunning- swollen lips, flushed cheeks and fully blown pupils.

He wanted to kiss her again.

So he did.

One hand tangled her hair, he angled her head and parted her lips with his own. And though he could still feel her lingering inner fight, she kissed him back just as feverishly.

Lýn rolled her hips- a single, deep roll against the thick ridge of him that gave her the most delicious friction despite the layers separating them- one that gained her a staggering groan from Aonung.

“Do you have to get back tonight?”

“Anou-”

He didn’t want to face her rejection just yet, so he silenced her with another kiss- a kiss that made her tail and toes curl… a kiss that hurt her heart just a little bit.

The incessant throbbing between her thighs had become overly unbearable and, aching for relief, Lýn gave in, encouraging his touch as his hands explored her skin.

They skimmed up her thighs and squeezed her ass before traveling up her sides- calloused thumbs sweeping the underside of her breasts.

A loud swear escaped him and his hips bucked when she rolled again- core rubbing deliberate and way too much for him to handle. He clamped a firm hand on her waist to prevent her from doing it again.

Unhappy about this, she smacked the hand away and he smacked her backside in response, tugging on her tail in warning for good measure.

“Ayelýn, I’m going to come within seconds if you keep that up.”

“That sounds like a you problem.” She yelped at the tug of her hair and the stinging bite he left on her neck.

“So mouthy,” he mused.

“And you’re annoying,” she muttered with a nip of her own against his jaw.

But then, reality creeping in, alarming and loud in her head, Lýn’s mouth moved faster than her mind, spewing, “I’m not a play-thing.”

Aonung reared back to see her face. A flash of hurt crossed his features and despite how fast he’d schooled his expression, she still caught it. “Of course you're not… Where did that even come from?”

“I- I’m just saying… I don’t know what any of this is or what we’re doing, but I needed you to know that.”

“Lýn. You're not,” he emphasized.

She nodded, glad to have at least cleared that with him.

“And anyway… It’s- uh… been a while for me,” he admitted in a soft tone. “I don’t- I’m not that Aonung anymore. I’d hope you think so too.”

She did think so. Aonung was so much more different than she’d realized. Different from the rumors… different from when they’d first met.

“When you say a while…”

“Mmm, counting? Over a year…” He scratched his jaw. “Almost two by now since we’ve been together- well not together together-” he rambled. “You know what I mean.”

“Oh.” Ayelýn turned the information around in her mind as she bit on the tip of her thumb.

He hadn’t been with a woman in that long? How? Why?

“Okay,” she finally said. “And to be clear, you want to-” she gestured between the two of them, “-with me?”

“Yes,” he answered firmly, fingers toying with the string that kept her top in place. “It’s no pressure though. We’re just having fun, right?”

“Fun.”

“Mhmm.” He ducked his head to nose at that spot where her neck and jaw connected. With one tug of the string, the beaded thing covering her breasts fell into her lap.

A shudder made her jerk in his arms and Lýn blamed it on a gust of wind. This time of year and this late out, the breeze could get nippy… It definitely wasn’t the way Aonung was mouthing at her flesh, or the way his thumbs brushed over her hardened nipples.

Definitely not…

Fuck.

“Okay,” she agreed breathlessly, head lulling backwards as his path trailed from her collarbones, to the tops of her chest that rose and fell in anticipation. “But just this one time and we don’t talk about it afterwards. Agreed?”

Aonung paused at her words.

He didn’t want that.

And instead of responding, he swallowed her nipple into his mouth.

Sex with Aonung was not at all what Ayelýn imagined… and yes guilty- she had imagined this moment…. Many times actually.

In the early days of their pretend courtship, a heartbroken woman named Zers’i had cornered Lýn, giving her a piece of her mind- accusing her of stealing the man she hoped she’d settle down with.

By the end of the rant, Zers’i had turned from bitter and angry into a sobbing mess. And in the midst of Lýn, comforting the weeping woman on her shoulder, it led to an interesting revelation.

“You’re going to have to do all the work. I- I guess I don’t feel so bad now,” the blubbering soul had stammered through tears.

At the time, Ayelýn didn’t know what that meant, but with two other confrontations that bore similar remarks, she gathered that Aonung could be somewhat of a selfish lover.

Yet here, in this moment as the stars watched over them, Aonung had ripped sounds from her lips she didn’t even know she could make.

The man was ruthless in his pursuit to learn what she liked- mapping her body with his hands, lips, tongue… tail.

He was far from selfish as he stayed buried between her thighs for Eywa knows how long, lapping and sucking while his fingers curled deep within her heat, causing delicious pleasure to consume her in wave after wave.

Then, while she was mid recovery from another glorious orgasm, he was rearing onto his knees, lifting her calf over his shoulder and thrusting into her in one fluid stroke- right the the hilt.

That first time, the burning stretch and his pace was brutal.

Skin slapping on skin he took her hard and fast, practically contouring her body to his will as profanity fell from his lips like a prayer. He really didn’t last long at all and he even apologized for it when he dropped down next to her to catch his breath.

Post orgasmic haze, his lips were everywhere, peppering her with sweet, playful kisses as he whispered things that made her blush.

“Not so mouthy now, are you?”

“You make the prettiest sounds when you come.”

“Will you let me taste you again?”

“...You’re beautiful.”

Eager to have her own way with him, she had slithered between his thighs, mouth watering at the sight of him coated in her arousal.

Lýn was pretty sure dicks weren’t supposed to look pretty. She guessed he must have been an exception.

He was quite impressive even though he was half hard. She wouldn’t tell him that though, she was sure it would only go to his head, especially judging by the stupid smirk he’d given her as she took him in.

Lýn enjoyed teasing him. Within seconds of her little playful strokes and licks, he was fully erect and leaking all over her hand. His stomach hollowed out and his moans and grunts were loud as her head bobbed- mouth taking him deeper and deeper down her throat each time she came up for air.

And when the cusp of his impending release came near, he was sitting up, impatiently pulling her up his body by the hair and kissing her with such passion, she was on the verge of combusting.

Drenched between her thighs from her own arousal and his release from earlier, he slipped in with ease, sliding her down his length until she took him all- back bowing because at this angle, the man was impossibly deep.

Eyes locked in unspoken intensity, they released quiet breathy sighs as they relished in the feeling of him seated inside her- deep and full and tight and warm.

Limbs folded around each other and lips meeting halfway, they rocked slowly, fucking in a way that didn’t feel like fucking at all.

Aonung planted kisses on her temple and her cheek and jaw, hands smoothing over every inch of skin he could find while Lýn clung to him- tiny murmurs and mewls escaping her.

They moved in tandem, deliberate rolls and grinds that weren’t rushed or hurried as they climbed higher and higher- the build up so profound and fervent, a few tears sprang to Lýn’s eyes.

“Fuck, I’m going to come soon.” He licked away the lone teardrop that escaped her, and she tasted the salt on his tongue when he parted her lips with it. “Come with me, gorgeous. Please.”

She nodded and led one of his hands between them, showing him what she wanted- clit needing attention for her to get there.

It was tempting to increase their rhythm, to want rock harder or move faster, but they both kept their pace, gradually getting to that peak that swelled and blossomed until they neared that break.

Rhythm eventually growing erratic, then faltering, Aonung hid his face- nose pressed into Lýn’s cheek as his fingers tightened their hold- in her hair at her nape, the others circling her clit.

Ayelýn came with a soft cry and a full body spasm, trembling as she felt his warmth spread inside her. She moaned into Aonung’s mouth- his own groans accompanying hers.

Pleasure thrumming throughout her body, he continued to grind into her- drawing little aftershocks and whimpers from her.

Both limbless and exhausted, they collapsed against the mats beneath them.

Aonung slipped out from between her legs and Lýn made a face at the gush of mess slowly escaping her. Though, she was too worn out to care to do anything about it. Eywa, there was so much of it.

Arm draped around her waist, Aonung kissed her forehead and whispered something she didn’t make out. She squirmed closer, and made a home in his arms, content to use a bicep as a pillow and to squish her face into the space below his shoulder.

And in the quiet of their shelter, the sounds of rolling waves lulled them into calm.

Aonung did not find rest easily that night. While Lýn slept, his thoughts plagued him. Knuckles running down her spine, he held her close…

Something he’d never done with anyone before.

Aongung didn’t do cuddling.

He didn’t do soft and sweet fucking.

And he definitely didn’t do night overs.

He sighed and squeezed his eyes shut, hoping his thoughts would grow tired.

Ayelýn confused him.

He knew he liked her. He hadn’t realized just how deep, however. The way in which this woman had wormed her way into his constant thoughts, terrified him.

A small dark part of him- a lingering remnant of the old Aonung, thought that fucking her would get her out of his system.

They’d fucked alright, yet here he was, holding her because he still couldn’t get enough. She was no longer only in his thoughts.

She had seeped into his veins…

Into his heart.

Giving up on his inner struggle, he decided to literally give up. He was done fighting this.

Done fighting them.

Cupping her neck he held her to him as quiet prayers to Eywa left his lips, whispers buried into Ayelýn’s hair.

When morning broke, neither of them spoke about it.

And in the following hours that turned into days that turned to weeks, neither acknowledged the evident shift between them.

Eywa.

Please give me calm, give me strength.

Ayelýn blew out another shaky breath. She was a nervous wreck this morning.

Tail twitching behind her, she made yet another wrong turn along a bouncing pathway… Maybe it was deliberate? Maybe it was her body’s way of protecting her from what was to come.

Eywa. She really didn’t want to do this.

Throughout her journey, Lýn kept a look out for a familiar mountain of a man who she couldn’t seem to find anywhere. Of all days, this was not a day for him to be missing!

Despite her obvious prolonging, she couldn’t stall any further or else she’d be late, and after final, futile efforts, she at least felt some ounce of relief when she spotted Aonung’s sister.

“Tsireya!” she called out.

“Ayelýn!” the woman chirped in pleasant surprise, walking over to meet her halfway. “Are you looking for my brother?”

“Well, yes and no. I was hoping to catch him for a moment.”

“He’s out on a hunt. Won’t be back till late.”

“Oh.” That was disappointing to hear.

“What’s wrong?”

Lýn licked her lips and tried not to grimace. “My presence has been requested. Your mother summoned me,” she revealed.

Tsireya appeared unaffected by the news, though she did pick up on Lýn’s nervousness. “I had a feeling this would happen eventually. I told my brother as much… He’s so stubborn,” she muttered with a fond shake of her head.

“Why does she want to see me then? I was just told to come here.”

“Sa'nok has been asking Aonung to have you come by for a while now and he’s been swimming around it,” Tsireya explained. “She thinks he keeps you purposely away from her and I’m guessing she’s had enough… and of course she’d choose the day he was on an all day hunt.”

“Ah. I see.” Lýn weighed her options, then, “Reya, I have no clue what to say to her… the few times we’ve interacted were- weird and awkward and honestly, I don’t think she likes me very much.”

“Lýn, trust me, you’ll be fine. She simply wants to get to know you. She did the same thing with my Lo’ak.”

That did ease away some of Ayelýn’s nerves.

Tsireya took her hand and squeezed it in comfort. “And just a secret between you and me… if she offers you to stay for a meal with her, it means she definitely approves.”

Ayelýn tried not to squirm, but sitting before an intimidating Ronal would make just about anyone uncomfortable.

They’d been sitting in silence ever since she’d arrived and Lýn decided to cope by focusing on her surroundings while Ronal continued to study her. After all, every nook of the Tsahìk’s marui had something curious to see.

“What is your appointed position in your village, Ayelýn?”

Lýn startled, not only from the sudden break in their long, suffering silence, but also from the question.

By now, it was no secret what her role in the clan was. Ayelýn had gotten her fair share of snickers and stray comments and at one feast only a couple days ago, she had to pull away a snarling Aonung when he’d overheard a group of women bad mouthing her and her scrubber status.

The Tsahìk had also been present and seated nearby and Lýn had even caught her watching the ordeal in great interest.

“I’m a scrubber, Tsahìk.”

“Hm. Do you enjoy it?”

“I don’t think anyone enjoys being a scrubber,” Lyn answered honestly. “But it is work, and I am diligent about it.”

Ronal appeared to think before she spoke again.

“Should you have the opportunity, what would you prefer to be doing then?”

“Oh- no, I-”

“T’is only a question, child. Won’t you humor a curious woman?”

“Ah… I- I suppose I’ve always had an interest in mending things.” Lýn held in a chuckle, remembering her first meeting with Aonung and his mortified reaction to her canoe. “Though I don’t believe I’d be any good at it given my lack of skill.”

“Skill can be easily learnt,” Ronal said, helping herself to a sip of her brewed seaweed and herb tea. “If I’m not mistaken, Hythspon is finally considering getting an apprentice- I believe you know him? Perhaps you might be interested in taking the position? I can put in a good word for you, if you’d like.”

Ayelýn sat up straighter. “Truly? I- thank you, Tsahìk… I will give it some thought.”

“You should… It means, you’d also be closer to Aonung since you’d have to move to Awa’atlu.”

Unsure how to respond to that, Ayelýn mashed her lips together and gave a small nod.

“My son does not realize it, but he speaks a great deal about you. I, however, am interested in getting to know the women he intends to mate and bring into our family, for myself... So tell me.” Ronal sat back expectantly.

Lýn frowned. “What exactly would you like to know?”

“Everything, my dear. Everything. You will not be Tsahìk- since my Reya is next in line, but if and when you and my son do mate, you will be the mate of the Metkayina’s future Olo'eyktan. It is my duty to know who that woman is… So tell me, everything.”

And so, Lýn spoke as Ronal asked her question after question.

She was asked about her family and her completed rites; Keftxo, her childhood, her likes and dislikes, what her values were and what she did in her free time. Ronal asked her what she envisioned for her future, even how many children she wanted to have.

With each question, they became more direct and personal and Ayelýn felt her walls going up and panic bubble in her chest. Her body was so rigid and tense, she had to force herself to unclench her jaw, to uncurl her tail and to give her shoulders the occasional roll.

When requested, Ayelýn recounted the story of how she and Aonung first met and then Ronal asked her a question she had been dreading the most.

“Aonung won’t say, but when do you believe you two will take the next step? I am keen to have the meeting of the two families. Tonowari and I have been lenient. We gave Aonung a year, it has now been almost two. I understand this must be a bit difficult for you, but… it has been long enough.”

Stunned, Ayelýn fiddled with the end of her tail, then, catching herself, she stopped. “We will discuss it, Tsahìk,” she feebly promised.

“That is all I ask,” she said. “You may continue to court of course, there is no pressure to make the mating bond just yet.”

Tension eased from Lýn’s shoulders at that.

“But, you have to understand, we need to know for certain whether or not this is a secure match,” she explained with surprising gentleness.

“I understand.”

“Good… Now tell me, Ayelýn. Are you happy in your courtship with my son? Truly?”

“Yes. He-” Lýn cleared her throat. “I am happy… He makes me happy.”

“Hmm.” Ronal’s unwavering eyes made Lýn uncomfortable. “I must speak my mind when I say I was quite surprised by my son’s choice of you.”

Feeling another wall of guardedness shift into place, Lýn clenched her jaw. “Because I am a scrubber from Keftxo?”

Surprise clouded Ronal’s features for a fraction of a second. “Oh goodness, no. Nothing to do with that. If anything I am baffled as to why you- a woman with her head on her shoulders- are with my Aonung- given how he can be.”

“How he- can be? Forgive me, Tsahìk, but don’t understand.”

“Aonung is… subversive. He is wild and brash- rude. He is selfish in nature and is reckless with his life. As his mother, I want nothing more than for him to see that he is destined to do great things.”

Lýn’s heart thundered in her chest. She should have bit her tongue but it was quicker to release. “Your son is already doing great things.”

Ronal regarded the woman before her. Gone was the fidgeting, nervous slip of a Na’vi. Ayelýn was livid.

“You don’t agree with me?” she asked, mildly amused.

“No. No, I don’t. Aonung is defined by none of those descriptions.”

“Oh?”

“Tsahìk, my apologies for speaking out of turn but- Aonung is bold, and kind. He is brave and he may seem selfish at times like you say but he would put his own life in danger for the help of others. He is brash and rude but he is also funny and sweet and charming- and he wants nothing more than your approval of him. He wants you and his father to see him- not as a constant disappointment but as your son…. He’s a good leader, he has heart and strength and the people love him!

“And yes he has his flaws- Don’t we all?! But he is our future Olo'eyktan- his mistakes no matter how big or small are seen as monumental in anyone else's eyes. He’s allowed to make mistakes, he’s allowed to learn from them and not have them constantly thrown back in his face... Like anyone else, he’s allowed to be forgiven…. Especially by his parents.”

Silence followed.

An awestruck appearance of realization formed on the Tsahìk’s face and Lýn braced herself for Ronal’s wrath.

“You speak with such passion for Aonung. I had not realized you were in love with my son.”

Ayelýn released a shaky breath. Not outrightly disagreeing with the statement, she didn’t correct it either.

Since her mother’s slip of the word love a little over a month ago, she’d had sufficient time to dwell and think.

At every attempt to reason away the absurdity, Lýn had failed.

She was in love with Aonung.

Through and through.

Flaws and all.

“We are courting, Tsahìk. Of course I care deeply for him.”

“For someone like Aonung with a commitment to his clan, courting has nothing to do with love, child. It is a path to secure a match in the end. You may care deeply, yes, but finding love in courtship for him is a gift. As leaders, courtship means duty, honor, security.”

Lýn bit her lip. She finally understood the pressures Aonung face day after day.

“Then, as a leader whose duty is for the clan- their needs, their happiness… Doesn’t Aonung deserve that too? You speak of love as this surprising gift between a match. But… can’t he just want to find love for himself?”

Ronal’s lips twitched and instead of answering, she asked her own questions. “Does my son know? Does he know how deep your feelings for him fall?”

“...No.”

“And will you tell him?”

Ayelýn’s head bowed, wordlessly answering the question.

“Pity… Well. There is still time, no?” The Tsahìk uncovered a platter. “I am famished. Would you like to join me for lunch, Ayelýn?”

Staring stunned at the spread, when Lýn glanced up, Ronal was smiling.

The type of smile that told Ayelýn she’d passed some kind of test.

Hello friends! 💛

Firstly, I promise you, I tried so many others, but that's the title that happened to stick for this part... and on the topic, I hope the smut was alright... Hehe.

This part got way too long, so I split it into two. The next one coming out will be the final part. *Fingers Crossed*

As always, please let me know what you think.

Tags:@jakesullyfatjuicypeen@granddearduck@riatesullironalite@strawberri-blonde@earthling55 @innercreationflower @gyuventure @btsiguess-kpop@blkmystery@neteswife@luvteyams@isnt-itstrange@erenjaegerwifee@faatxma@ivysully@bakugouswaif@pinkpantheris @mntx666@ironcaptainnataliabarnes @staymentallystable @neteyamslovrr @melsunshine

#safe haven #courting ayelyn #aonung #aonung mini fic #aonung fanfic #aonung x reader #aonung x female reader #aonung x y/n

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randxmthxughts · 2 years ago

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Unrequited - Chapter 3 - Tsu'tey x Omatikaya!Reader

prologue | chapter 1 | chapter 2

summary: on one particular night, y/n offers tsu'tey intimacy with no expectations in return, which sparks up a complex relationship between them. they grapple with guilt, unrequited love, and newfound intimacy, as y/n and tsu'tey navigate the depths of their feelings for each other

wc: 5k

contains: one-sided love, angst, smut, friends with benefits (ig), smut in this chapter!

a/n: this chapter integrates arvok's plot (tsu'tey's brother), so if you're curious, here's a short post explaining his backstory. i think there will be about 2 more chapters and we'll be done with the series ♡ feel free to send me asks about the series about whatever, i love theorizing with you

unrequited masterlist | general masterlist

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

As soon as the eclipse began, you would often find yourself hurrying down the well-worn path that led to the training hut, your feet carrying you through the glowing, lush forest. Your heart raced with anticipation, whenever the faint light from within the hut came into your sight, welcoming you in and signaling that Tsu’tey was already waiting for you inside. The hut was a safe haven for your meetups, far enough from the Home Tree to offer you privacy and closed off enough to protect you from accidental encounters with the forest animals. Your cheeks would flush with excitement for the next few hours spent in the comfort of his company, ignoring that small crack in your heart growing deeper with each visit. A constant reminder that Tsu’tey was never truly yours.

And when the sun rose, you would quickly make your way to the river, to wash off any signs of Tsu’tey, as if the night never had happened. You’d return back to the Home Tree, eager to occupy yourself with your daily tasks. Ever since the battle, Mo’at had finally begun to recognize you as a helpful asset and gave you more challenging work. Grateful for the distraction, you tried your best to push away the nagging feeling that Tsu’tey was growing tired of you.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

Despite Norm’s persistence to talk Tsu’tey into his suggestions, he knew he was outmatched the moment Tsu’tey stopped in his tracks to focus his attention on something else. His eyes were glued to your frame, unable to concentrate on anything else but how at ease and relaxed you seemed to be, finally acting your age. Norm continued to babble about opening a new school but Tsu’tey paid him no mind, instead swatting his hand to dismiss him, and pricking his ears to try and hear whatever Takuk was telling you to make you laugh. Tsu’tey couldn’t shake off the feeling of jealousy that gnawed at him… he had never made you laugh when you were spending time with him. And while growing up, he had always felt protective of you, this time it felt different. Norm followed Tsu’tey’s line of sight, finding you at the end of it.

“Tsu’tey, surely you remember how Grace taught you, right? Why not consider a new school?” Norm stepped in front of Tsu’tey to block you from his sight.

“Grace is gone. Who will teach the children now?” Tsu’tey retorted, irritated, forced to shift his attention back to Norm.

“I will! And many scientists from the lab volunteered to help out.”

“Can’t you see that the clan has more important issues to focus on? You want to invite the sky people back here again to ruin everything?” Tsu’tey gestured towards the wreckage of the Home Tree, his voice laced with annoyance.

“Come on, now, you know that having a school can help!” Norm threw his hands in the air, as if Tsu’tey was denying him the most obvious solution.

Tsu’tey opened his mouth to disagree, but the train of his thought was abruptly interrupted by one of his warriors running towards him, hollering at the top of his lungs.

"Tsu'tey! You have to see this!"

The voice immediately caught your attention too, as you and Takuk swiftly rose to your feet, starting to sense a sudden commotion in the distance. The second Tsu’tey and Norm ran off, both of you followed right after them, drawing closer to a gathering crowd. You lost sight of Tsu’tey but luckily, Takuk led the way, making room for you to join the front of the crowd and see the unfolding scene.

Arvok, Tsu’tey’s younger brother, was wrestling with Jake in the middle of the circle. It looked like Arvok was struggling to keep up with Jake’s fluid combat, tightly gripping a knife in his hand that couldn’t quite reach his opponent. Yet, despite the obvious outcome of the fight, Arvok was refusing to give up, growling and hissing under Jake. You covered your mouth in disbelief at the sight. You've known Arvok since childhood - he was always a quiet and obedient child, just a few years younger than you. Over time, you discovered that you had quite a bit in common with him, and even interacted on occasion. But growing up in the shadow of his brother's glory, Arvok always yearned for his parents' love and respect, yet never quite received it. His strained relationship with Tsu'tey only added to his feelings of isolation, and you often felt sorry for him, knowing that neither of you would ever truly be seen by Tsu'tey.

Your eyes darted around the crowd, taking in the chaos and noise. They settled the second you caught a glimpse of Tsu’tey’s parents, who stood out amidst the chaos. Ateyo, Tsu’tey’s father, had a fearsome reputation in the clan. Even when you were little, older kids would sometimes scare you with Ateyo’s name in order to discipline you. He often argued with Eytukan, thinking that he did not deserve to be the chief, but eventually things settled, when Tsu’tey mated with Silwanin and stood next in line to lead the clan. Tsu’tey’s mother, Artsut, was next to her mate, her eyes glassy as she watched her youngest child lose. She was known to be the driving force in her family, always pushing Ateyo and their sons to strive for more and demand what others had. Since the arrival of Jake and him becoming Toruk Makto, Tsu’tey’s parents never hid their open hatred towards the dreamwalker. They believed Jake was a demon who betrayed their clan and stole Neytiri from Tsu’tey. So when Tsu’tey refused to pick a fight with Jake, they redirected their efforts at their youngest son, who always sought validation.

Unlike the others, they seemed unphased, almost as if they were expecting the fight. Tsu’tey stepped in, pulling Jake off his brother, and taking a stand between two men. He shouted angrily, looking in between them.

“What is the matter with you? Two of my brothers fighting each other?” he put on his scary Olo’eyktan face, silencing the crowd.

Arvok quickly rose to his feet, his eyes roaming over the crowd to avoid meeting Tsu’tey’s. It did not slip your attention, the way Arvok caught sight of his parents and hung his head immediately. Jake took a step back with a sigh, nodding to show he agreed with Tsu’tey. It was clear that he did not want to participate, and that the duel was most likely called by Arvok. Everyone was caught off guard when Ateyo suddenly stepped forward with a puffed out chest.

“You cannot intervene in a duel, even if you are the Olo’eyktan,” Ateyo spoke loudly, earning a scowl from his oldest son, “You must respect the tradition and let the fight end in a victory for one of the two men.”

The crowd murmured in agreement as Ateyo spoke, their nods and chants echoing his sentiments. You too knew that Ateyo was right - once a duel had begun, it had to be seen through to maintain the warriors' honor. Tsu’tey's expression fell as he looked out at his people, his mind likely recalling his own fight with Jake. Neytiri had tried to stop it then, but Eytukan insisted on respecting the clan’s tradition. It was one of those defining moments where Tsu’tey had to choose between being a good Olo’eyktan or being a friend.

“Fine,” Tsu’tey nodded, stepping out of the circle.

Without a warning, Arvok jumped at Jake, hurling his knife at him. You held your breath at the sound of the metal slicing through the air, but Jake managed to avoid it, instead delivering a punch to Arvok’s middle and knocking the air out of him. Arvok stumbled back, giving Jake an opening to kick him to the ground and strangle him. The crowd let out a collective gasp, when Toruk Makto pressed down on Arvok’s throat. Arvok struggled to fight back as his air supply was cut off, but he eventually calmed down and admitted defeat. Jake panted heavily, slowly getting off of Arvok and looking around at the people who acknowledged his clear victory. But it wasn’t the end, and Arvok was not satisfied with the outcome. Taking him by surprise, Arvok threw his knife at Jake. The man stumbled backward, managing to catch the knife with his hand and slicing it open.

Everyone watched in shock, as Jake collapsed on the ground. Mo’at and you jumped to his side, quickly checking for his pulse. Neytiri appeared by you in an instant, eyes wide with worry as she waited for either of you to tell her what happened.

"What is wrong?" she asked, her voice shaking with concern.

"Toruk Makto has been poisoned," Mo'at announced loudly. "The knife was poisoned.”

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

It was late, when you exited Tsahik's hut, exhausted from the late hour and the arduous task of gathering specific herbs from deep caves to prepare medicine for Jake. You left knowing that Mo'at and Neytiri would stay with him throughout the night, so your help wasn’t needed anymore.

As you stepped outside, you noticed Tsu'tey lingering in the shadows by the entrance. You knew he had spent the entire day in a meeting with the elders, discussing the punishment for his family. The weight of the decision was written all over his face. It was evident that no matter what punishment he chose, it would be difficult for Tsu'tey to enforce it upon his own kin.

“Is he…?” Tsu’tey nodded towards the hut.

“Don’t worry,” you answered, “The medicine helped fight the poison, he just needs to rest for the night.”

“So he’ll be alright?”

“Yes, you can ask Mo’at, she’s inside.”

Tsu’tey nodded in appreciation, but when he moved to walk in, you caught him by the wrist. He looked back at you slightly confused.

“Are you alright?” you asked.

“Don’t worry about me,” he shook off, brushing past you into the hut.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

The sound of the raindrops against the roof of your hut created a steady beat that night, threatening to break into a thunderstorm at any moment. You were caught off guard when Tsu’tey showed up at your door, his hair soaked as if he had been caught in the downpour. Because usually, if he wanted to see you, he would have met you at the training camp. But on this night, Tsu’tey couldn’t help but come to you, seeking any kind of comfort he could get.

“Can I come in?” his voice was barely audible over the sound of the rain.

“Tsu’tey… of course,” you answered quietly.

Your heart ached at the sight of him, standing before you with a look so reminiscent of the time he had fought with Jake. The memory of offering him a piece of yourself that night came flooding back. It had been rare for him to reveal his vulnerable side to anyone, but he couldn't bear to go through this alone. Not after he knew the comfort of having someone unconditionally by his side.

Tsu’tey had been forced to put aside his principles, playing the role of the Olo’eyktan all too well that day. But now, he had no more energy to keep up the facade. He walked toward you slowly, his once-confident gait now faltering. You couldn't help but notice the way his shoulders hunched, eyebrows furrowed with a deep wrinkle in between them, laced with worry.

“I’m so sorry, Tsu’tey,” you expressed, opening your arms to him. Immediately Tsu’tey fell into your embrace, burying his face in the crook of your neck.

“Jake Sully could have died because of Arvok’s carelessness,” he growled angrily, “He still acts like a child, blindly following my mother’s orders. Look where it got him… so stupid.”

“He is a good kid, Tsu’tey, he is just lost,” you sighed, patting his back gently.

“It is not enough to be good to be excused from a punishment. Arvok must bear the consequences of his actions now,” he declared, pulling away from you.

“What did you decide?” you asked carefully.

“My family will be exiled from the Omatikaya clan. All three of them,” he whispered.

“All three?” you asked, shocked. You had heard rumors that Arvok’s challenge had been encouraged by his parents, but you had never expected this outcome.

“I have no family anymore,” Tsu’tey confirmed, “My parents were plotting Jake Sully’s death from the beginning. They poisoned the knife, and they must bear the punishment too.”

Your heart sank as the weight of his words. It was a merciful decision, of course, but it still seemed harsh. Tsu’tey had to reject his own family from the clan.

“They will leave in the morning,” he added.

As Tsut’ey spoke, the storm outside seemed to grow louder, mimicking the turmoil in his heart. You gulped down watching him for a moment before reaching for his hand and pulling him closer to you. When he finally met your eyes, you pressed a soft kiss to his chest. The rain continued to patter against your hut, falling into a rhythm with the beating of your heart.

“Do you want to stay the night?” you asked carefully. He only nodded.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

“‘M close, Tsu’tey,” you panted, digging your nails into his shoulders, as his dick pushed deeper into you.

Tsu’tey was breathing heavily too, his hands guiding you by your hips to lift you up and down his cock, taking him all in. He savored the sight of your breasts bouncing, before your slowness started to become too painful and he decided to take over. He grasped at your waist and shifted slightly, starting to thrust into you from below. You moaned, letting him control you the way he wished, feeling the tension in your core starting to grow, convulsing painfully. Tsu’tey felt your walls squeeze his dick tightly, finally coming undone, as he pushed you over the edge. It wasn’t long till he felt his own orgasm approaching. He buried his face in your chest to stifle a loud moan and followed after you. You shivered at the feeling of his warm liquid filling you, resting your forehead against his shoulder. Your lips quickly found their way to Tsu’tey’s neck, peppering his skin with small kisses.

“Thank you,” his words were barely above whisper, as his hand went up to pat you on your hair.

You kissed his neck one more time before shifting to swing your leg over him and instead lay down by his side. Tsu’tey pulled you closer, and you pressed your ear to his chest, listening to the way his heartbeat gradually began to slow down.

“You’re warm,” you noted, snuggling closer to him.

The sound of raindrops pattering against the roof of your hut did not calm, signaling an approaching thunderstorm. And while usually it scared you, you found it to be quite comforting at this moment. It was a blessing from Eywa to help the forest grow and recover, a sign that the clan was on the right path.

“You’re too kind to me, Y/N, I do not deserve this,” Tsu’tey spoke suddenly, pulling you out of your thoughts.

You looked up to catch his expression, eyes widening in surprise. Where was this coming from?

“I have made many mistakes, this must be my punishment from Eywa,” he continued, “Sometimes I wonder if I even deserve to lead a clan.”

He sighed, his eyes avoiding looking at you. You were baffled at his confession, you had no idea that he ever felt that way. Tsu’tey had been preparing for his role his whole life. How could he doubt himself? Think that he deserved what happened to him?

“This is not a punishment, Tsu’tey, it is only a trial,” you sat up slightly, “You must stop blaming yourself for the bad things that happened. It wasn’t your fault.”

“I think it was,” he shook his head, disagreeing with you.

“You are a strong leader, Tsu’tey,” you craned your neck to look at him, “You will do great things. I am grateful for the happiness you've brought into my life.”

“Happiness?” he chuckled bitterly, looking back at you, “Stop lying to yourself, Y/N, this is not happiness. I only hurt everyone. I hurt you.”

“I don’t mind,” you protested quietly, knowing that he was, in fact, right.

"That's the problem. You tell me it's not there, but I know you still have hope in your heart that I will change," he said, pointing his finger at your heart, his tone filled with disappointment. "I'm just not capable of loving anymore. It's too difficult for me. I can't love you like that," he continued, his words heavy with the weight of his own struggle.

You stared back at him in silence, tears burning your eyes. Tsu’tey felt his own heart clench at the way your bottom lip quivered, clearly struggling to remain your composure, and soon enough the tears started to spill over and trace wet paths down your cheeks. He felt cruel for the pain he had caused you time and time again, knowing that he had shattered the world the two of you had created to escape to. Throughout all of this you always remained so strong, so resilient, he hated himself for taking it away from you. His body reacted before his mind could follow, arms pulling you back into his chest and wrapping tightly around yours. You had already given up, crying quietly into his embrace. The exhaustion began to take over and you slowly dozed off in his arms.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

The faint murmur of voices outside stirred you from your sleep early in the morning. You found yourself alone, with Tsu’tey's scent still lingering in the air. Realizing it was the morning of the exile, you rushed outside to see what was happening. Fya’at, one of the usually friendly healers, spotted you immediately and pulled you towards the gathering crowd. The clan had divided itself into two groups, leaving a path in the middle for the three exiled Na’vi to walk through.

Artsut and Ateyo looked furious, their expressions reflecting nothing but anger. But Arvok clearly felt ashamed, his shoulders slumped and head hanging low as he trudged behind his parents. Then you saw him. Tsu’tey stood tall, wearing his Olo’eyktan headpiece, his eyes glassy as he watched his family leave forever. And while to others he appeared to be stoic to it, you could read the pain in his eyes, the agony of watching his own family be exiled from the clan. He was once again losing another piece of his happiness that now seemed too far away to chase after.

When Arvok passed by where you were standing, you couldn’t resist but step out of the crowd to grab him by the wrist. Both Arvok and the clan shot you surprised looks, but you ignored them.

“Be good, Arvok,” you whispered to him, “It will be hard to disobey your parents but from now on try to listen only to your own heart. May Eywa guide you.”

Arvok nodded, appreciating the single act of kindness he received in the past few weeks. He was slightly surprised by the fact that it was coming from you, since the two of you weren’t close, but he still felt grateful for the gesture. Fya’at tugged at your arm, forcing you to step back into your spot.

“What are you doing talking to a traitor?” she whispered through gritted teeth.

"He's not a traitor," you defended Arvok, earning curious glances from around you. "He just made a bad decision."

Fya’at fell quiet, not wishing to continue the argument, but still watching you. When you felt a pair of green eyes piercing through you from the other end of the crowd, you turned to meet them. Tsu’tey gave you a small, fleeting look of gratitude. He couldn’t openly encourage his little brother to pursue better choices, so he appreciated that you did what he wanted to do. Fya’at did not fail to catch the strange interaction between you and the Olo’eyktan.

As the warriors trailed the family to ensure their departure from the forest, the crowd began to disperse slowly. You remained rooted to your spot, lost in thought. Was Arvok going to be safe? Fya'at lingered by your side, deep in her own conspiracies. She wrinkled her nose at an unfamiliar scent wafting around her, and turned to you with a curious expression, sniffing around you before blinking several times in bewilderment.

“Your scent… it’s changed,” she pointed out.

You chuckled in disbelief, praying to Eywa that she wouldn't recognize the scent of Tsu'tey on you. With the chaos of the morning, you hadn’t had a chance to wash it off you.

“What are you talking about? I smell like myself.”

“No, you smell like another man,” Fya'at disagreed, leaning in closer to sniff again.

Quickly, you took a step back and shook your head, trying your best to convince her of your innocence. Fya’at straightened out, her eyes widened in shock at the realization.

“You smell of Tsu’tey!” she accused loudly, catching the attention of a few Na’vi around you.

“What?” your mouth fell open at that.

Her accusation hit you like a sudden gust of wind, knocking the air out of you. How could she possibly smell him on you? Your mind raced with excuses and explanations, but every answer you came up with didn’t seem convincing enough to voice out loud. You shook your head violently.

“Is there something going on between you two?” she asked, quirking her eyebrow.

“No, no, no, there’s nothing between us,” you tried desperately to sound sincere.

“I don’t know… there were rumors about you liking Tsu’tey, now you suddenly start to smell of him? And they way you were just talking to Arvok like he did not betray the whole clan,” Fya’at crossed her arms on her chest, voice laced with suspicion.

You pressed your lips together, racking your brain for a plausible explanation. Fya'at had a talent for cracking secrets, and as a healer, she was particularly attuned to when something seemed fishy.

“Listen, Fya'at, you're blowing things out of proportion,” you began, your tone even as you tried to keep your composure, “Arvok and I have known each other since we were children. I couldn't just stand by and let him be exiled without saying something. And as for Tsu'tey… I only spoke with him briefly last night. Maybe I picked up his scent because we were sitting close, I don't know.”

“Hmm,” she narrowed her eyes. You knew that the lie was stupid, not convincing enough to persuade her, “Some day the truth will come out, Y/N. Eywa knows.”

Fya'at disappeared into the distance, leaving you behind. You let out a deep breath of relief, feeling the tension in your shoulders release. You knew that she wasn't entirely convinced by your explanation but was willing to let the matter rest. And that was enough.

You shook your head, to clear your thoughts, and quickly made your way to the river to wash off the scent of Tsu'tey. As the cool water flowed over your skin, you thought back to the conversation with Tsu’tey and the way you let your walls crumble, as you broke down in front of him. You wondered if he would still see you after everything he said.

On your way back to the Home Tree, you stopped by the Tsahik’s hut to check on Jake. He looked well rested, already munching on a meat wrap, Neytiri watching him with an adoring look. You felt a pang of jealousy at the mutual connection they shared.

“Look who’s back,” you greeted them, bowing slightly deeper to Mo’at, who stood in the corner.

“I feel like I have been out for 2 years,” Jake joked.

Mo’at shushed him, turning her harsh gaze to you.

“Don’t talk to him, he won’t stop once you get him talking,” she moved closer to you, taking the bundle of herbs from your hands, “Are those for him?”

You nodded, offering a small smile as Mo'at patted your upper arm in appreciation. Jake watched the exchange with curiosity, realizing that despite your involvement in his healing, you had never really spoken to him. You leaned against the wall, observing as Mo'at deftly began to separate the leaves from the herbs you had brought.

“Can I help you, Tsahik?” you offered but she dismissed you with a swat of her hand.

“You did enough for him. Toruk Makto or not, he is still acting like a careless child,” she mumbled under her nose, irritated.

Neytiri eagerly nodded her head in agreement, to which Jake only rolled his eyes, shooting you a playful grin. Feeling a sudden urge to defend Jake, you spoke up.

"I mean no disrespect, Tsahik, but Toruk Makto wasn't at fault. If he hadn't caught the knife with his hand, he could have been in a worse state.”

Jake's grateful expression was not lost on you as he mouthed a thank you. Neytiri swatted his chest with annoyance, reminding you so much of her mother in that moment.

"He should have called for me. I would have dragged that kid by his ear and then taken a swat at his mother," Mo’at added with a low hiss.

Neytiri and you struggled to muffle a chuckle at her words. It was known in the village that there was some sort of bad history between Artsut and Mo’at. They had never liked one another and even had gotten into arguments when Tsu’tey first started to court Silwanin. It was only after they realized the seriousness of their relationships, that the two mothers decided to remain civil. Jake looked confused by your reaction, waiting for an explanation.

“I will tell you later,” Neytiri promised quietly to him.

The moment was interrupted when Tsu’tey walked into the hut, throwing you a harsh look. Immediately, you stood taller, watching him approach Jake.

“Brother,” he said, “I am happy to see that you’re stronger now.”

“I am,” Jake confirmed, “Thank you for standing by me, Tsu’tey, I appreciate it.” "I only did what any honest chief would do," Tsu'tey replied matter-of-factly.

“Still, thank you.”

Jake gave him a small empathetic smile. He understood that despite being committed to following the rules, Tsu'tey was still on his side no matter what. Neytiri too watched their interaction with a saddened smile. She knew that there was a heavy weight on Tsu’tey’s shoulders, suffocating him, and she often felt guilty for leaving him to lead the clan by himself. But she’d rather lose everything than lose Jake.

Suddenly, Tsu’tey turned his attention back to you with a feigned angry expression, shifting the air in the hut. It was almost like he was putting on a show for the others, the way his chest puffed out and he walked up to you with a confident step.

“You should not have addressed an exiled clan member like that in front of your chief,” he snarled at you.

“I am sorry,” you replied softly, lowering your ears to play along. Tsu’tey felt like he needed to reestablish himself in the eyes of the people after what you pulled. Any Olo’eyktan would have. What you did was unacceptable, and you knew that very well.

Tsu’tey hissed at you with another angry glare, his eyes flashing with frustration, and looked around the small hut to ensure that all eyes were on him. He muttered something inaudible under his breath before storming out of the room, his footsteps echoing loudly in the enclosed space. You could have sworn that you caught a faint whisper of "thank you" from him just before he disappeared out of sight.

You breathed out, once the act was over, and Jake shot you an apologetic look. He wasn’t sure how bad was what you did but it was clear to Jake that you pissed off Tsu’tey greatly to scold you in front of the Tsahik.

“Hey, don’t take that to heart, he is just stressed,” Jake whispered reassuringly.

“I know, I am not upset,” you answered sincerely. Tsu’tey didn’t mean to hurt you, you knew that much.

“It is not the stress, there is another reason,” Mo’at spoke mysteriously, not lifting her eyes from the task at hand.

“What reason?” Jake prodded.

Neytiri shot a knowing look at her mother, as if there was an unspoken understanding between them. You and Jake, on the other hand, were utterly confused by the hints Mo’at was trying to give you.

“He sees Y/N as a future mate,” Mo’at revealed, lifting her head, “He wants her to do better to make sure that she is a respectable mate to stand by the Olo’eyktan’s side.” “W-what?” you stuttered, “I am sorry, but that is not true, Tsahik.” “Yeah, whatever that was, I don’t think Tsu’tey even wants a mate now,” Jake chimed in with a small chuckle.

He looked to Neytiri for support but she only shook her head in disagreement.

“He has been acting differently recently. Maybe he had changed his way of thinking,” she suggested. You blinked rapidly in bewilderment.

“You have to be patient, my child,” Mo’at offered you a small smile, “He will find his way to you eventually.”

You gulped down, feeling a mix of nervousness and confusion. You excused yourself from the conversation to leave, before Mo’at called out to you with a final offer.

“Starting today you must come for lessons every evening. That is, if you want to become a worthy healer.”

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

chapter 4

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

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