cw: pro hero!bkg. flirty!!! that’s it really!!! minors dni probs gonna make a masterlist for these
YN: do you think you can look after kenji tonight?
YN: sorry it’s so last minute
YN: if not i can ask my mum
You: Sure bring him round whenever
YN: thank you!!! will be at yours in 30
once bakugou katsuki realised he has a crush on his son’s mother or his favourite term, his baby mama, all the interactions between him and you hold a new pressure. not only does he want to be the best father for his son but he wants to be the best person for you. he wants you to like him back.
so he springs up from his seat at his desk where he was just going through his paperwork and eyes the toothpaste stain on his shirt. cannot let you see that. should he take off his rectangle reading glasses? he finds a mirror in his hallway, his hair is flat. his hair is literally never flat— ever. he has to put a little product to fluff it up. and… it is so embarrassing if he does a couple push ups to bulk his arms, but you won’t know. he has caught you looking at his arms once before, gaze lingering interested. maybe he will.
bakugou is baby proofing his apartment, putting his scissors away, heavy gauntlets back in his office, loose screws in a jar, when his doorbell rings. warmth blooms throughout his chest knowing his son is on the other side and you. you’re there too. fuck.
pushing his glasses up his nose (he decided to keep them on) and raking his hands through his hair (yes, he added some product), he jogs over to his front door swinging it open.
“papa!”
the love bakugou katsuki feels for his son is like no other. even though he sees him often, three times a week, this week four, he always looks older. like a day away from him and suddenly he’s going to pop out with a baritone voice and a beard. not yet though, chubby cheeks pressed against his knee and two little arms around his calf.
kenji, looks just like him and you. obviously from having a child together but it’s truly odd to see his own baby pictures come to life. his father’s wheat blonde but less spiky, leaning more to your hair texture at the end. and instead of his ruby eyes, he’s got yours, copy and pasted.
“hey papa! me and you today!”
“hey little man, you okay kenj?” he ruffles his sons hair and like a cat, kenji leans into it.
“ya! mama going!”
then bakugou lands on you, pupils dilated. where the fuck are you going looking like that?
it’s almost amusing, you in your brown suede mini skirt, black cowl neck top showing your tits, makeup done to literal perfection, little baguette handbag on one arm and then kenji’s deku green backpack hanging off your other arm.
your lips are glossy with these cat like eyelashes at the corner of your eyes. you look seductive, like a siren able to lure bakugou out to sea to drown. he’d definitely follow. he’s so careful to mind where his eyes go, not your cleavage, the glitter on your collarbones. also not the length of your legs in those kitten heels and mini skirt. there’s even a slither of stomach and bakugou wants to bite, wants to drag you back into his house and—
wait, where the hell are you going?
“thanks for taking him last minute! i completely forgot i had plans tonight.” you say, and your smile has bakugou’s next breath shaky.
it must be only him in the whole world who has a crush on his baby mama. the woman he’s never dated, only had sex with on a one night stand and has a whole child with.
bakugou sniffs, letting go of kenji so he can run off probably to all the toys he keeps in the living room.
“no problem, always wanna spend more time with him.” he states, crossing his arms. his pupils are about to drop past your chin when he blurts, “you’re not gonna be cold?”
you laugh, loud and sharp, “of course you’d say that. don’t worry, my jacket is in my car.”
“ah okay. you look good,” bakugou cringes inwardly. how the fuck did he flirt his way into your space the first time he met you? it’s been two years now and there’s almost no improvement. can you even be called friends?
you roll your eyes, clearly amused by him.
“thanks katsuki. i wanted to ask if you have any blister plasters? i feel one coming on.” you lift your left foot off the ground for a second, “first time wearing these!”
an excuse to scan the length of your legs, your smooth thighs, ankles, your feet in your little maroon kitten heels. are you going on a date?
a cough rumbles through bakugou, then he nods, “yeah, come inside. i’ll get you one.”
kenji is in the living room, surrounded by big puzzle blocks he’s cutely failing at putting together. “papa!” he shouts, running into the hallway to see you following after bakugou. kenji’s head tilts, a frown, “mama? here?”
a million thoughts rush through bakugou, reasons he can’t date you even if you ever want him back. kenji finds it weird that you’re even in this space. two spaces, mama’s house and papa’s house. everything about how you’ve parented kenji so far has been separate, very clearly separate.
“i’m leaving in a sec, kenj. just getting something from your papa.” and you perch up on a kitchen stool as bakugou reaches into his kitchen cupboard for the blister plasters. kenji comes to stand by you, two chunky puzzle pieces in hand.
“i brought his new books with him and these yoghurt raisins he’s been loving recently incase you didn’t have any,” you hum, resting your hand on kenji’s shoulder.
“damn, always changin’ his favourites. i just bulk bought those dino crackers,” bakugou sighs but it’s all love as he circles his island counter and gets down on his knees before you.
you’re in shock, jumping and crossing your legs over the other, “you don’t have to put it on me? i can do it?”
a hot hand on your ankle and your whole body vibrates with interest. you’re grateful your son deems the situation boring, toddling off back into the living room.
now bakugou katsuki, your baby father, the man who’s half your son and carries half of your sons last name is stupidly gorgeous. there’s a reason why you ended up in bed with him that one and only time, with his thick arms, you can see a two veins running through each of them and his eyes make you want to moan. a deep ruby red that practically twinkle when they look at you. his attention makes you feel powerful, probably the reason he’s so good at running a hero agency, you’d comfortably leave your life in his hands.
and now, with those nerdy cute glasses on his nose bridge, somehow looking like a model with his fluffed up hair and the sight of dino crackers in a tub behind him labelled ‘KENJI’S SNACKS BACK OFF!!’ made by your son, makes you swoon.
you’re the definition of flustered with this strong, domestic, burly man on his knees with a blister plaster in his hand. he could see directly up your skirt if he wanted to.
“nah, it’s fine. this shit doesn’t bother me.” he blinks expectantly waiting for you to hand him your foot.
swears only when your child is away. you wearing your slutty little outfit with this gorgeous man in his sweats and somehow you feel like a princess with him sliding a glass slipper onto your foot.
“you gonna let me or do you wanna just do it?” he removes his hand from your ankle.
you’ve seen clips of bakugou in action. mostly when it’s on the news, always making sure kenji doesn’t see bakugou covered in blood or shouting orders on tv. how sure of himself he stands, the strength he holds when he blasts a villain that multiple pro heroes couldn’t crack. sometimes you drop kenji off to his agency just before bakugou’s about to leave and you see him in all his glory. the boots that give him an extra couple inches, the tight black material that sucks him in and highlights every ab and pectoral. you remember how he nods a hello to you in those moment, with a boyish smirk like he knows what you’re thinking.
you think your baby father is sexy. so what.
you shake your head to rid your thoughts but bakugou takes that to mean you want him off. he adjusts to get up but you place your hand on his shoulder. the movement has him lifting his head to you, lips parted like he was ordered.
“no, i mean it’s fine. just wasn’t expecting it.” then you uncross your leg from over your other. then you joke with a finger pointed at him, “don’t look up my skirt. i wore it hoping nobody will be seeing me from this angle.”
bakugou visibly gulps at that, head ticking, “i fuckin’ hope not.”
calloused finger tips take your calf and with one hand, big fingers fiddle with your heel buckle. you’re almost sure it’s not possible for him to take it off but then it’s swiftly removed and onto the floor.
you blink at him, “what?”
bakugou carries the focus of a trained professional as he studies the sensitive skin around your heel. he ignores your confusion, “where are you goin’ tonight?”
it’s like whiplash, his question so quick after yours. you barely register what he says before you answers, “club in the city. it’s new, apparently has a live jazz band.”
bakugou grunts, wiping the area with a disinfectant wipe. “who with?”
your smile is slow, a realisation forming that you can’t completely confirm yet. “why are you asking that, katsuki?”
then he glances up at you, bottom lip plump and red. you hate that you can still remember what it’s like to kiss him.
“wanna make sure my baby mama is safe. not hangin’ around fuckin’ creeps.”
“ah, you’re asking for kenji?”
you can’t read his eyes yet but there’s a spark of amusement fluttering through them, “sure, let’s use that excuse.”
you roll your eyes and he carefully, lays the plaster on the area. “with a friend.”
“is it a date?” and it’s the nagging at the back of bakugou’s head that makes him ask, the fact he’s needs to know. dying to know.
now you really laugh, undecided if you want to toy with him or not. “and if it is?”
to that bakugou rises to his feet and seated, he feels even taller than usual. the whiff of bakugou’s scent, that caramel sugary scent, reminds you of that night two years ago when he was thrusting into you so sweetly that you could barely remember your name after.
“i hope it’s awful,” he grunts and he feels like a teenager. not a grown ass man and not someone’s grown ass father. he doesn’t know why his finger lands your chin, angling your head to face him. you don’t know why you let him, lips parted like his will land on yours. ruby eyes flicker to your eyes to your lips and the need for contact is imminent.
“you’re so stupid,” you mumble and when you realise the position you’re in, that your son is only next door, you pull away from bakugou katsuki.
bakugou’s left standing where you left him as you scramble away, pulling your shoe back on and buckling it back up with a single hand. you adjust your skirt and you go back into mum mode. “he might ask for something sweet but don’t give it to him, i already gave him ice cream earlier. also ask him about quirk training at school, you’re so much more suited to helping him with that.”
bakugou crosses his arms across his chest. if you want to pretend there’s nothing between you both as you go and meet another man, then sure. he gives you a slow nod, “i will. enjoy your date, yn. though i’m not sure green goes with brown.”
you frown glancing down at your outfit. black cowl neck top, brown suede mini skirt, maroon kitten heels. green where?
“mama! you still here?” kenji appears walking back to you, this time the tv remote in his hand, “you didn’t say bye mama.”
“i was just about to!” you bend down to your sons height, ignoring bakugou’s gaze. “i’m gonna pick you up tomorrow morning, okay? ready for football tomorrow. don’t ask papa for any ice cream, i’ve already told him.”
kenji pouts before landing a big kiss on the top of your head just like where you and bakugou always kiss him. you laugh at the motion, landing a soft kiss on his cheek, “okay, kenj? see you!” you rise and your son begins to wave.
“bye mama!”
bakugou leads you to his front door and green, green, green, still shakes through you until you realise. your fucking green underwear. you spin round with a gasp, bakugou almost falling into you as you halt. stabilising himself with his hand on the wall right beside your head. kenji is still standing behind him, waiting for you to go.
you’re again so close to bakugou, chest to chest and with the realisation that you know what he meant, a smirk grows on his face. so fucking sexy.
“you’re a perv,” you whisper scolding him, finger pointed but it only makes bakugou pretend to bite it by clashing his teeth together.
“have a good night, yn,” he replies, walking forwards as you walk backwards out, “i mean it.”
“BYE MAMA!”
“bye kenj!” and then to bakugou, “i’m watching you.”
“fuckin’ love to hear that.”
— likes don’t do anything on tumblr! but reblogs, comments and asks mean the world! and please stop the part 2 comments! thanks
“lemme put it in baby, c’mon.” paul’s lips brush over the sensitive skin of your neck with every word. he mouths hotly against your pulse, as if he’s struggling not to sink his canines into your flesh. he feels like such a fucking leech. every instinct in his shapeshifting body is telling him to claim, claim, claim.
he pants like a mutt when he grinds his bulge against you. the only thing stopping him from slipping inside being his cargo shorts and your cotton panties. he can smell your essence, your arousal, your sweet fucking slick. yet you’re still teasing him. denying him of what he wants, what he needs. his whole body aches for you.
his body hovers above you. his visibly strong arms supporting him, so he doesn’t crush you with his weight. your legs are wrapped loosely around his hips, giving him access to your sweet heat. his supernatural warmth encompasses your half naked body, the worn t-shirt and underwear starting to feel like too many layers.
when you teasingly roll your hips back into his, he lets out a full body shudder. he full on moans into your neck, the sound going straight into your ear. his hand clenches your sheets into a fist so hard, you can hear the fabric rip on the corners of the bed. it’s like a new wave of desperation washes over him.
“c’mon pretty,” paul pants against your jaw. the hardness of his boner presses on your cloth-covered clit deliciously when he gives another roll of his hips. despite feeling good, the friction isn’t enough. he trails kisses up to your lips and huffs like he’s already fucking you.
“you want me.” he says it like he’s trying to convince himself more than you. his lips brush yours as he speaks in a mumbly tone, “please, baby. just say yes. lemme make you feel good..”
he shifts so his knees support his weight and he can grope at your body freely with his large hands. they slide under the hem of your baggy, sleep shirt, and immediately find purchase on your waist. his calloused palms tickle your skin as they slide up and down your torso, occasionally squeezing at your curves. he loves your body. healthy and warm. all his. his to protect and love and worship. his mate.
his hands slide up to your chest, groping eagerly at your bare breasts from under your sleep-shirt. he leans down so his front is covering yours once more and collides your mouths together. soft, needy sounds travel from his mouth to yours, as the kiss progressively gets more and more heated. he needs you. why are you teasing him like this?
“c’mon, c’mon..” he whispers into the kiss. his lips part desperately against yours while you kiss him back with just as much fervor. he swipes his thumbs over your nipples, while his hot tongue dances around with yours. he’s trying to do anything to convince you.
by the time the kiss breaks, paul is panting hotly against your lips. his eyes are lidded with need, and he’s rock hard against your core.
“please?” he pleads once more. there’s broken tone to his voice and his brows are furrowed with desperation. he nudges his nose against yours affectionately, his heart beating a mile a minute. all it takes is one single nod of your head, to have paul flipping you over onto your hands and knees. he practically rips your cotton underwear off, with promises to please his mate.
↳ ahh this is so ooc, sorry 😞 this is my first time writing something other than headcannons, plus i haven’t written anything since october last year. pls excuse the bad quality :( and remember requests are always open!
Summary: When everything seems to fall into place in Forks, Washington, a string of mysterious deaths call the attention of both vampires and werewolves in town. As the redheaded vampire returns with her mind set on revenge, (Y/N) and Bella Swan find themselves in the center of danger once again. With secrets still lingering between them about their past best friend, they will find themselves stuck in a whirlwind of love, betrayal, and the hardest choices they’ll have to make. But one thing is certain: no one will go a day without a taste for vengeance.
<- Previous
Her heart hammered against her chest as (Y/N) took steadying breaths. It was simply prom, she kept repeating. It's Paul on the other side of the door, she reminded herself. There was no need to be nervous. There were no expectations, no grievances, no fights to fights. She was simply a normal girl going to her boyfriend's senior prom.
“Take a breath, (Y/N),” she whispered to herself. “It's all okay.”
Looking in the mirror once more, the girl smiled. Her hand gripped the doorknob, the coldness of the metal sending a shiver through her body. But before she could turn it, the handle gave way on its own, and the door swung open, startling her backward before it could hit her.
“Oh, sorry,” Paul scrambled before he could see her. “I just couldn't wait any longer and...”
Anything he wanted to say after died in his throat as his eyes finally landed on (Y/N). He found himself stuck in place, truly in awe of her beauty. His hands shook and his breath became uneven, but for the first time in a long time, it wasn't out of anger. “You look...,” he said softly, taking her hands in his gently, as though she would break. “You look absolutely gorgeous, (Y/N). You... wow. Just wow.”
“Well, you clean up nicely yourself,” (Y/N) smiled as she took Paul's extended hand. He was in a tailored black suit and red tie. The outfit was simple, not that anyone would expect the hot-headed wolf to be much into fashion. But he’d adorned the tie with a silver wolf head pin, which felt cold under the girl's finger. She traced the figure with a smile, feeling moved by the tiny nod to his pack. “You look very handsome, Paul.”
“I do, don't I?” he jokingly boasted. “And I can't wait to show up with the hottest date on my arm.”
“I'd like to think you're not with me just for my looks.”
“I guess not just your looks,” he teased. His laughter was loud as he easily dodged (Y/N)'s playful slap on the arm. He took the moment to pull her closer, softly kissing her crimson-painted lips. “You know I fell for you long before I even saw your face.”
“You’re cheesy today,” she chuckled, melting into his gentle embrace.
“Days like these bring it out of me.”
“Prom, you mean?” (Y/N) laughed. “The same prom you didn’t care about weeks ago?”
Paul joined her in her laughter, hugging her closely as though she were a figment of his imagination. “Days when it's just you and me,” he whispered. “We haven't been able to see each other as much since we've doubled patrols. I've missed you.”
“We talk every day,” she smiled. “And even if Victoria wasn't around, we would still have finals.”
“Who cares about that?”
“School's important, Paul,” (Y/N) scolded him playfully. “Just because you're graduating, doesn't mean the work stops there.”
“Yeah, yeah, I know,” the boy scoffed jokingly. “Let's just get through prom first, huh? I'm sure Jared and Kim want to go already.”
“Fine, let's go.”
Hand in hand, the young couple walked toward the living room. There, Sam and Emily stood like proud parents, smiling proudly at the couples in front of them. Kim was dressed in a lilac dress with flowers outlined by a darker purple, while Jared put on a gray suit with a lilac tie. They were focused on each other, fiddling with the corsage and boutonniere they had gotten each other, as Embry helped take pictures of them.
“Well, look at you two,” Sam announced as Paul and (Y/N) joined them. “You guys look great.”
“Thank you, Sam,” the girl said, feeling heat rising on the back of her neck. “It's all thanks to Emily, really. I wouldn't have been able to do this on my own.”
“I didn't have to do much,” Emily chuckled. “I already had a perfect canvas to begin with.”
“Hey, you two, stop hitting on my girlfriend,” Paul pouted as the couple laughed. He moved toward the kitchen, where he had a box with flowers, before pulling (Y/N) away to place the corsage of white roses on her wrist. “I went with Emily to get them. I thought they would match the best.”
“It's beautiful,” (Y/N) smiled while pinning the flower onto the lapel of his suit. “You made the perfect choice.”
“I did, didn't I?” Paul said, his eyes focused solely on the girl in front of him.
The flashes of a camera were not enough to break his gaze. To him, there was truly no one else in that room. Not when (Y/N) was the best view he could have. He focused on the way the tip of her tongue stuck out of her mouth as she maneuvered with the pin, memorizing the furrow of her eyebrows while she concentrated. Those were the moments that seemed to stick in his head. Every fight, every argument, every ounce of anger he'd ever had dissipated the moment he was able to simply be with her. He even feared the chance of doing everything all over again. How could he be sure his decisions would lead him back to that very second?
“Man, you guys look straight out of a magazine,” Jared boasted, breaking the couple out of their bubble. “You trying to dethrone us as the best couple at the dance?”
“Oh, please, there's enough room for all of us at the top,” Kim chuckled at her boyfriend before turning to the other girl. “It's nice to finally meet you, (Y/N). You look beautiful.”
“Thank you. You look amazing as well,” (Y/N) responded, feeling nervous as she shook Kim's hand—that came with the territory of being a Swan. Meeting new people was always hard for her, even if she was the best at it in her family.
“Well, get together, guys,” Emily called. “It's time for the barrage of pictures.”
Twenty minutes later, and the kids felt their faces were gonna remain stiff for the rest of their lives from smiling. If it wasn't Emily, it would be Embry taking pictures, and if it wasn't him, then it would be Bella. The two couples never knew where to look. All they could do was smile and hope it was all over soon.
Once they were satisfied with the amount of pictures taken, Bella, Emilly, and Sam saw the kids off. They followed them to their cars, showering them with phrases reserved for their parents. While the alpha and his fiancée made sure Jared and Kim were good to go, Bella was stuck to Paul's window like glue.
“Make sure you take care of her,” she scolded. “I know how these things go, okay? No alcohol, staying out too late, and no funny business.”
Paul's face grew bright red as he kept his stare firmly on the steering wheel, nodding at everything Bella said while (Y/N) tried her best to stifle her laughter. “Of course,” he coughed out. “I already spoke to Mr. Swan, and he agreed to a one in the morning curfew. I promise nothing will happen to (Y/N) while she is with me.”
“I'll hold you to that, Paul.”
“Leave him alone, Bells,” (Y/N) chuckled. “We'll be fine.”
“Just be thankful it's me and not dad with his shotgun talking to you,” the older Swan grinned. “Not that I would hesitate to get it if anything does happen.”
“Bella!” (Y/N) exclaimed as Paul choked. “Leave him alone already!”
“Fine,” the girl laughed, finally taking a step back from the truck. “Just be careful, you two.”
“We will, mom,” the younger girl teased. “You take care of my baby, though. I don't wanna see any dents on my van when I get back.
“And here I was thinking you were talking about Paul.”
“He can take care of himself,” (Y/N) smiled, swallowing a laugh when he flinched as she threaded her fingers through his. “Just be careful getting home.”
“Yeah, you too,” she said. “Have fun.”
It wasn't until Bella disappeared from the rearview mirror that Paul let out the breath he was holding. (Y/N) couldn’t help the laughter that bubbled in her throat, watching as the boy beside her finally calmed and allowed himself to relax. “You know,” the girl snickered, “Bella’s not that scary.”
“She’s a direct connection to your dad,” he said. “She’s terrifying.”
“Oh, you mean Mr. Swan?” she laughed. “It’s hilarious to see you scrambling like that.”
“I’m glad my pain is hilarious to you,” Paul pouted. “At least you’re happy.”
“I am,” she grinned before placing a kiss on the back of his hand.
The ride to the school wasn’t long. And before she knew it, (Y/N) and Paul were joining Kim and Jared at the entrance of the school. Kids streamed inside, filling the air with loud chatter and happiness. Everyone was excited. Senior students could feel freedom from high school breathing down their necks, so close they could taste it. Much like in Forks, she could feel their carefree spirit and the thrill of anticipation vibrating in the air.
But the more people they passed, the more self-conscious (Y/N) became. Kim and Jared walked inside, continuing the flow of the other students. Yet, as Paul went to follow, the girl’s grip on his hand stopped him. She was frozen in place, her stare a million miles away. Growing tears made her eyes shimmer under the lights, her lower lip trembling as though fear was taking over her.
“Hey, hey, what’s wrong?” Paul cooed, cradling her cheeks tenderly. “Why are you crying?”
The girl reached for her back, tracing the scars she could reach. For the first time since she had tried on the dress, she realized just how exposed her back was. The realization was overwhelming, and it had slapped her across the face far too late. “What are they gonna think?” she whispered sheepishly. “Most of the marks are gone, but the scars that stayed…”
“Who cares what they think, pretty girl?” he said, with a smile so gentle it melted her worries away. “I can already tell you, you’re the most beautiful girl in the world. And if anyone says anything about the scars, then I'll give them a few of their own. Don’t let that ruin your night, (Y/N).”
“Paul...”
“What?” the boy grinned teasingly. “I've been itching for a fight. But I promise I'll use human strength.”
“Yeah, I'd be more worried about you turning into a massive canine in the middle of the school gym,” she chuckled, finally feeling her spirits lifting. “Don't think Sam will let you out of the house again if something happens.”
“Fine, I won't fight,” Paul smiled, wiping away the stray tear that dared to fall. “But if you feel too uncomfortable, I can give you my jacket. Or we can just go. It's not like any of them deserve to see you, regardless.”
“Alright then,” (Y/N) beamed. “Let's go inside.”
An hour in, and all worries were gone out the window. No one asked about the scars on her back. Instead, Paul's friends hounded him for abandoning them. They asked (Y/N) how she could stand someone with such a sour attitude and teased him about how she could have done so much better. Their comments had made her laugh, especially seeing the way Paul tried to keep his nonchalant persona even though she knew how much it bothered him. His friends made her feel welcome in a place she definitely stood out—not only was she the only person who didn't go to the school, she was the only one who didn't even live on the rez. They made her feel comfortable. She felt happy. Whatever was waiting for them tomorrow could wait. She could allow herself to enjoy the moment.
At first, a couple of Paul's friends asked her to join them on the dance floor. The music was loud and energetic, and the boy wasn't really the type to drop some moves. When she'd agreed, they laughed at Paul's huff of annoyance, pointing out every few seconds that his eyes had not left them for a moment. From their table, he watched cautiously, making sure no one made a move (Y/N) wouldn't be comfortable with. Even when Jared walked over to talk to him, his gaze never broke.
It wasn't until Kai helped keep her steady after an unfortunate slip that Paul finally joined them. His glare was threatening, his chest heaving slightly as his nose flared. But unlike his usual explosiveness, he was in control of himself. He allowed his friend to help, thanking him with a clenched jaw, before taking (Y/N) into his arms. They teased him subsequently, saying he was whipped and overdramatic. And he let them. All he cared about was that she was okay.
As though it had been planned, the next song that played was a slow song. A lot of the teens on the floor used the moment to rest, allowing the couples a moment with each other. With shaky hands, Paul took hold of (Y/N)'s waist, pulling her as close as he could. They had been together for months, but he felt that moment was the most intimate they shared.
With a smile, (Y/N) crossed her arms around Paul's chest, closing the distance he'd left between them. His heart beat loudly against his chest, drowning the music they swayed to. There were words bubbling in his throat, but he was too afraid to say them. They had been clawing at his vocal cords for months, looking for a way out. Yet, fear drowned them, forcing them to remain a thought in his head rather than a statement he said out loud. The words were powerful, too important to ever be taken back. Paul had seen how much pain three words could cause. He was the aftermath of what happened when those words lost their weight. He'd lived firsthand what happened when those words were said but not meant.
He was scared of saying them. Of saying them and having (Y/N) regret them. He was terrified of what could happen if he said them and she didn't say them back. Even worse if he said them and one day she didn't feel the same.
“Hey, what's wrong?” His focus snapped back to her, her smile calming the storm that was brewing inside him. He leaned into the hand she rested on his cheek, smiling back at her. “Where did you go?”
“I'm right here,” he whispered, placing a kiss on her hand. “I was just thinking.”
“What? Thinking about your other girlfriends?”
“Don't say that,” he mumbled. “Don't even think it.”
“I'm just joking,” (Y/N) chuckled. “I know you wouldn't do that.”
“Yeah, I was thinking of something else.”
“Well, you know,” she grinned, “so was I.”
“Yeah?” Paul asked. “What's that?”
The hand she'd placed on his cheek moved to his chin, pulling his head down. “I was thinking,” she whispered in his ear, “about how much I love you.”
“W-what?”
“I love you, Paul Lahote.”
The boy felt his heart stop in that moment. He wanted to commit to memory the scene before him. The way the lights glimmered against (Y/N)'s skin, the bright smile on her face, and the glimmer in her eyes. He never wanted to forget that moment.
“Did you hear me?” she asked after his moment of silence. “I said...”
Her words died in her mouth as Paul crashed his lips onto hers. He kissed her like it was the first time he'd ever tasted her, pulling her as close as he possibly could. The boy didn't care about the hollers from his friends or the stares from people around them. All he could focus on was (Y/N) and the words she had stolen right out of his own mouth.
She was braver than him in that sense. For some time, she had stopped being afraid of the big feelings. (Y/N) understood their power, and she had lived through their destruction, but she had stopped being afraid. "Hey,” she broke the kiss, breathless and chuckling, “you haven't said it back. I guess I'll just go then.”
(Y/N) turned to leave, a big smile tugging at her lips. Paul was quick to grab her wrist and pull her back to him, placing another kiss on her lips. “I love you,” he said, accentuating every word with a kiss. “I love you. I love you. I love you.”
She laughed as he raised her off the ground and spun her around, forcing her arms to wrap tightly around his neck. That was what (Y/N) had been waiting for. A night full of normal. A moment she could share with Paul that didn't stink of vampires, werewolves, or stupid vendettas. Just two kids falling in love, uncertain of what the future could bring but focused on the present.
“I can't believe you beat me to it,” Paul chuckled. “It's like you read my mind when you said it.”
“Is that what you were thinking about?” she smiled. “You know, you don't have to be scared of saying how you feel—not anymore.”
“I'll get better at that,” he said. “One day, at least.”
“Tonight's a start, then,” (Y/N) assured before pecking his lips. “Just promise you'll never stop saying you love me.”
“The day I stop is the day I die,” he muttered. “I love you, (Y/N). And I always will.”
Before she could say anything, a loud crash brought everyone to a halt. Everyone turned toward the sound, but it was clear it had come from outside. Paul pulled (Y/N) in, his nose picking up on something no one else would be able to. “Leech,” he whispered. When his eyes met Jared, he confirmed the boy's suspicions. Someone had crossed the border, and it most likely was Victoria.
Suddenly, the doors to the gym swung open, and Jacob ran in, heading directly to where Paul and Jared stood with their dates. “We need reinforcements,” he said, slightly out of breath. “We lost her as we were reaching the school, and we're almost certain she's inside.”
“Victoria's h-here right now?” (Y/N) stammered. “H-how?”
“Seth and Leah are still too new, and their stamina is not as strong,” he said. “You need to get (Y/N) out of here, now.”
As much as he wanted to argue, Paul knew it wasn't the time to fight with Jacob. He was doing the right thing for once, and his priority had to be (Y/N)'s safety. When the music started again and the students turned their attention to anything else, he led the younger Swan out of the gym. At least they'd had three hours of being normal that night.
The hallway felt cold as they walked out, and (Y/N) clung to Paul like a life raft. Her veins had frozen, and her limbs shivered under the weight of her fear. She had let her guard down. She believed she was allowed at least one night to simply be, but she had to have known life never worked out in that way. Victoria wanted her dead, and she had to believe the vampire would be anywhere she went.
As they walked, a sudden breeze blew past them, making Paul hold the girl even tighter against him. “She's here,” he said through gritted teeth. “And I can't shift inside. I need to get you out of here.”
“If she’s here right now, how are we supposed to make it outside?”
“You guys go first,” Jake said, surprising the couple. “I’ll try to chase her down in here.”
In their hesitation, another gust of red wind passed by them. (Y/N) winced as she felt something sting her arm one second, and the next her hand flew up to her skin to feel blood rushing out. “She’s taunting us,” she croaked. “But this is not her battleground.”
“You’re so right, little Swan,” Victoria smirked from the chill entrance. She was all the way down the hallway, licking the blood off her fingernail as Jacob and Paul stepped in front of (Y/N). There wasn’t much they could do in their human form, and she knew that. “You boys are so serious. I’m just having a little fun.”
In the blink of an eye, Victoria left her position at the end of the hall and reappeared a few feet behind them, (Y/N) locked between her arms. She grabbed the girl tightly by the neck, crushing her against her body. “There’s nothing you little pups can do,” she grinned as Paul growled. “But don’t worry. I’m not killing my little plaything tonight.”
A/N: i was gonna post this earlier this weeks but I've been dealing with migraines and horrible backpain, but I was able to finish the next chapter for y'all's favorite couple. hope you enjoyed! ❤️
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death in the family (11) / sully family x human!daughter/sister!reader
synopsis, the start of a new era
WARNING. NSFW. tarsem is freaky. MDNI.
note, eek idk how i feel abt this chapter but i hope you guys like it! it's 7k words (surprising to me, but not unwelcome... kinda liked writing this length) and im not the best at nsfw writing so look away. dont perceive me. anyways, enjoy <3 as always i love you all ! EDIT: i took the smut out... the more i read it the more i disliked it, but lmk if you still want that version
(MASTERLIST)
/
YEAR 2165
the first interaction you had with tarsem was when you were a teenager—fourteen years old—watching your younger siblings play in the forest clearing near hometree. in an effort to connect you with the other kids, jake made you physically supervise them instead of keeping a watchful eye from your marui’s window. of course, it didn’t really help (as you knew it would), but you appreciated the effort nonetheless.
you sharpened your knife, the grating noise becoming prominent as your senses reduced the children’s chatter to background noise. you were so focused on your task, you didn’t even notice the sudden shade fall over you.
you glanced up. tarsem was standing there, blocking the sunlight. your eyes flipped to the side, confused. “oh, i didn’t see you.”
“i have been standing here for three minutes.” he deadpanned.
“sorry. did you need something…?”
he lowered himself to the ground, resting his elbows on his tucked knees. his posture slumped with a groan. “these little prrnen are no fun to play with.”
you blinked, a soft smile pulling at your lips at his predicament. “why are they no fun?”
“they are soft and delicate.” he pursed his lips. “i cannot even walk by without knocking them off balance.”
you laughed softly. “just play with kids your age, then. i’m sure they’re around somewhere.”
“good idea,” he cut you off, pulling a ball out of nowhere. “let’s go.”
your grip tightened nervously around your knife. “oh, i didn’t mean me—”
“are you my age?”
“uh… a year younger, i think?”
“close enough.” tarsem grabbed your wrist and pulled you up from the ground, your sharpening rock and knife tumbling into the grass. “come, i’ve been dying to play. the other children are preoccupied with their training.” his grip remained firm as he pulled you away from the gaggle of children.
“shouldn’t—agh,” you grunted as you jumped over roots he easily avoided. “shouldn’t you be training, too?”
“i am already trained.” he said, matter-of-factly. “as much as i can be for now, at least. when you’re the best, you get free time.” he glanced over his shoulder, golden eyes catching the sun. “which i think is the case for you as well, hm?”
you were unable to answer—between the distance from both clan adults and children, tarsem was an outlier. you hadn’t held a conversation this long with anyone other than your family and it showed. think think think…
“wait— wait, wait, wait, i’m supposed to be watching the other kids!” you exclaimed as your siblings’ giggles faded.
“tsk, let them be. what’s the worse they could do? fall?”
“yes?!” you sputtered, incredulous at his lack of concern.
“from what height—ten inches? they’ll be fine.” he dismissed your concerns with a laugh.
when he got to an open space, he released you. he squished the ball between his hands, a determined look on his face. “if i beat you, can i boast that i’ve beaten a sully? that will do wonders for my reputation.”
a smug grin spread on your lips. you squared your stance, tilting your head to the side. “if, and that’s a big if, sure.”
tarsem’s eyes lit up—you could see the excitement on his face. he threw the ball up idly as he explained the rules of the game: the ball is placed between the starting line and the river bank. after a countdown, you both race to the ball—first one to cross the river with it wins.
in other words, keep away.
you marked a starting line in the dirt. tarsem made a show of stretching, bending and twisting his lanky limbs in preparation. you rolled your eyes at the smirk he threw your way, lunging at the line.
tarsem glanced at you as he started the countdown. “pxey… mune… 'aw… tsyul!” (three, two, one, start!)
before he could make a step, you dropped into a squat and kicked his feet from underneath him—he fell face-first into the mud with a yelp. your laughter echoed off the trees as you sped past him, swiping the ball from its place and beelining for the river.
tarsem got to his feet as quick as you expected, sprinting after you. he no less than slammed into your back, sending you flying forward. you gasped in surprise but used the fall’s velocity to roll to your feet, scrambling to take off again—
tarsem’s hand contracted around your ankle, pulling you flat on your face and back to him through the dirt.
“vonvä'—!” (asshole!) you groaned, hissing in pain. your ribs ached from the slamdown but you’ve never felt more alive. you swiped at the mud in your mouth, gagging.
tarsem crawled over your body, plucking the ball from your hands with a pompous click of his tongue. he was absolutely loving this. “such bad language, ngatsyìp.” he said before springing to his feet and taking off.
you seized his tail before he got too far. you were yanked forward but dug your heels into the ground, jerking him back. he resisted your strength well enough, but you were able to scale his body, legs coiling around his shoulders and locking at the throat. you twisted your body mid-air, the momentum coupled with your weight flipping him clean off his feet. he slammed back onto the ground with a guttural thud, pinned beneath your thighs, the breath knocked out of him.
“give me the ball.” you hummed, finding it hard to wrench it out of his iron grip. “i’ve got you down, tarsem, give me the ball—”
he gasped and nudged his chin over your legs. “you fight dirty, sully,” he laughed breathlessly.
“i just fight different,” you replied, focused on prying his fingers off the ball. “kinda have to compensate.”
“we should play around more,” he threw his head back against your ankles, finding it hard to maintain his grip. “i should get used to this fighting style.”
before you could reply he rolled both of you over, tumbling down the incline and into the water.
you released him and swam to the surface, gasping for air. his laughter pulled you out of your disorientation. you found yourself smiling despite not currently winning. when you turned, he was already wading towards the other side.
you kicked off the riverbed and surged forward, launching yourself onto his back. he exclaimed in surprise, arms flailing for balance. you clung to him like a leech, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and dragging him under with your full weight.
bubbles exploded around you both as he thrashed. the ball slipped from his grasp and you snatched it mid-sink. you planted both feet on his chest and shoved off, breaking the surface with a triumphant gasp.
“aha!” you crowed, spinning mid-float to face him.
he emerged far behind you, coughing up water and swiping his soaked braids out of his face. he started after you—with a scream of delight, you ran as fast as you could against the current towards the other side.
he snagged you back with an arm coiled around your stomach, pulling your back to his chest. you couldn’t see him behind you, but you twisted and tried to push him back with your feet, dangling the ball with your outstretched arm.
the water splashed around you, the roar of the river second only to both of your giggles.
“now i’ve got you. should i take the ball from you now or allow you to think you still have a chance?” tarsem snickered beside your ear.
you hummed in acknowledgement, “the second one.”
he shrugged, walking the both of you away from the end zone. “suit yourself, but—agh, fyape!”
you drove your elbow into his abdomen, making him keel over. neytiri has always taught you to make the most of your opponent’s confusion, even if it was a mere millisecond. you slipped out of his grip and bounded through the water to the other side, weaving his attempts to grab you again.
you felt the dirt under your palms when you pulled yourself to the other side, ball in tow, dropping in exhaustion. “i win…” you mumbled tiredly.
tarsem’s braids clicked as he shook his head, adjusting his loincloth. water poured off of him in sheets as he collapsed beside you. “you win.” he conceded.
your eyes met and you shared a smile.
“next time, i will be prepared.” he turned to his side, propping his head up with his hand.
you beamed, chuckling. you were about to counter until—
“what is going on?!”
you scrambled to your feet, clutching the ball nervously. “dad!” you squeaked. “i— um…” you glanced at tarsem, who was standing straight as a plank beside you.
jake stood across the river, hands on his hips. baby tuk clung to his feet, babbling as she caught sight of you. his eyes narrowed as they darted between you and tarsem. “i left you in charge for ten minutes, and you shirk your duty?”
you coughed, adjusting your grip on the ball and wading back home. every step you took towards your father brought you closer to the embarrassment blooming in your chest. “the kids were fine,” you muttered.
“how would you know?” he snapped, crossing thick arms across his chest. “you were across a whole river.”
“i know, i’m sorry…” your eyes were trained to the ground when you stood before him. the water pooling at your feet didn’t make the moment any less awkward. “i’ll be more responsible next time.”
“hm.” was all jake said in conclusion, his gaze narrowing at tarsem one last time before collecting the rest of the kids.
“i’d better go.” you smiled sheepishly. tarsem returned your look and you were grateful for the lack of judgement. “here,” you held the ball to him.
he shook his head, pushing it back to you. “keep it. i’ll come find you when i need it.”
every time you two found time to tussle, as rare as it was, he always said the same thing. gives me reason to see you.
/
PRESENT DAY
get her back or die trying. that was tarsem's mission.
was it wise for a clan leader to throw himself into the enemy for one person? no. however, tarsem and his big ego was convinced there was absolutely no shot he would fail. there wasn't a single doubt in his mind that he wouldn't be walking out with you in arms.
a whole day passed by before he had the opportunity to come after you. the delay was out of his control; after the attack on the supply train, he had to count his losses, attend to the injured, and organize the supplies they recovered.
nighttime on pandora was one of tarsem's joys in life, but he didn't have the bandwidth to appreciate the work of eywa or bathe in starlight.
he descended upon the RDA's base like a jaguar, prowling through the tall grass and trees in search of an opening.
once he found it, there was no going back.
/
in your forlorn stupor, you didn't clue into the shrieking alarms until your doctors panicked. you focused into the present moment, squinting when the entire lab department flashed with red lights.
your eyebrows pinched together—what now?
"get the asset out of here."
your eyes fell on general ardmore. she mobilized her gear and put on her comms. her order was firm, barely sparing you a glance as she made her way to the exit.
"the na'vi is approaching from the south entrance, so go through the north tunnels." she instructed.
"w—what?" the researcher at your side spluttered in disbelief, looking side to side as if the general was speaking in tongues. "we can't just move her. we need security to—"
"would you rather security try to fend off a mature na'vi male or help you drag a little girl to a ship?" ardmore shot back, disgusted by her own team's cowardice. "get out of here."
you rolled your eyes at the stray jab but your offense was quickly overcome by sweet, sweet relief as the cuffs were unlocked. you crumpled forward. oh, great mother. your body buzzed from disuse, pins and needles pricking at your joints and limbs. walking was torture.
only then did ardmore's statement register: mature na'vi male?
a flicker of hope bloomed in your chest. he didn't, you thought, but you prayed that the subject in question was indeed tarsem. he'd be stupid to come, but you hoped he was the full-fledged idiot you knew him to be.
a few soldiers were assigned to the doctors to facilitate their exit.
"move it," the soldier beside you hissed, yanking on your arm.
you matched his scowl with a unforgiving glare, telepathically communicating all the ways you could kill him should he push his look. your aching wound wouldn't stop you from doing what needs to be done—you had neytiri to thank for that.
your feet cried as they were forced to jog through the freezing corridors, the gloved hand of the soldier twisting the flesh of your arm into an uncomfortable burn. you allowed it, putting up little resistance—after all, they were heading for the exit.
personnel raced by, guns in hand. you scoffed lightly imagining the RDA forces flooding the scene like ants against a boot. you knew tarsem; without the burden of a team, he was truly able to let loose. he wasn't made olo'eyktan for no reason.
"the fuck are you laughing at? huh?" the soldier twisted your arm, pulling you forward. the change in rhythm made your steps uneven and you stumbled. "your name is the only reason you're alive, bitch. damn traitor."
your heart pounded in your chest. you were strong but you were also scared. so scared. you've heard stories of the RDA but this was the first time you've experience its true nature; the cruelty and raw hatred it had for anything that didn't align with its goals.
his breath was hot on your ear, the clash of teeth echoing in your eardrums as his words rang in your head: traitor. you shook him off, not missing the self-satisfied smile on his face. it seemed the RDA got off on terrorizing others.
a deep breath pushed your uneasiness to the depths of your mind. your senses filtered out the repetitive blaring alarms, devoting its energy to scouring your surroundings. what was tarsem's play? admore said the attack was on the south side of the compound—did he think you were there? were you supposed to meet him, to fight through the crowds? or were you—
CLUNK.
a thud came from behind the group. everyone turned to see the other soldier in the group unconscious, a feathered arrow stuck in their back.
the scientists behind you gasped, a cacophony of whimpers following their initial shock.
you could barely see anything in the darkness of the corridor. every ten seconds, the red warning lights would illuminate the space in a ghastly glow. the blood red backdrop didn't help the image of a fallen comrade.
a beat passed.
"shit," the soldier grit his teeth. he scrambled for the radio on his belt, pressing the talk button. “command, i’ve—”
a disappointed tsk reverberated from above.
CLUNK.
the radio was shot right out the soldier's hand. the red lights passed over the room again, catching only the sway of the arrow behind the group, which pinned the shattered talkie into the ground.
the soldier fumbled for his gun, making the mistake of releasing you to unsheathe it.
you dropped to the ground and swiped your leg under his feet, kicking him off balance. a shot was fired as he fell onto his back, but you learned that lesson. you dodged the bullet and grabbed the man's wrist; with a smile, you bent it backwards swiftly and relished the sickening crrrrrack of his bones.
with a scream, his fingers slacked around his firearm. the gun fell into your palm.
"thank you," you muttered, rising to your feet. when you looked up, there was a silhouette in the red light.
your breath caught in your chest when you recognized the figure. tarsem really did come for you. his bow aimed at the rest of the group, golden eyes blackened by the dim lighting, daring them to make one wrong step.
relief flooded your veins—suddenly, walking wasn't an issue anymore. you ran over to him, looking back only when you heard the soldier groan in pain. the red atmosphere faded and enclosed your senses in complete darkness. when the lighting was restored ten seconds later, he had turned over, reaching for his spare gun.
spare gun? you thought in a panic as the lights dulled once more.
it was a race—who could cock their gun the fastest? fortunately, you had the best teacher.
it was like your dad himself was guiding your hands as you felt around the firearm for the hammer. come on come on come on. you pulled it back, priming the gun. the darkness didn’t help your aim, but the second the lights picked up again—
BANG! BANG!
the man cried out a second time as your bullet pierced his side; you sucked in a breath as you felt his whizzing by your ear. you couldn't seem to miss. poor guy.
a cool hand circled around your arm. “y/n,” tarsem whispered. he towered over you, blocking the red light. even sheltered in his menacing shadow, your nerves calmed exponentially.
“tarsem,” you replied. you didn’t need to see him to see him. you didn’t need to speak to communicate. his gaze crawled over your skin, assessing for any life-threatening damage. when he found none, his hand tightened.
his touch was the stark opposite of the soldier’s: gentle, soft, kind, and when he pulled you, you fell in perfect step. the both of you sprinted down the hall.
tarsem yipped for his ikran. at least, that’s what you thought—but the wind didn’t shriek around tarsem’s ikran when it descended upon its prey—no, the screeching whistle of katir’s divebomb was unmistakable.
the ground shook as katir’s talons tore through the roof, moonlight filtering through the openings and debris scattering in all directions.
“pey, pey, pey, pey—” (wait, wait, wait, wait—) tarsem abruptly stopped your momentum with a thick arm to your stomach. a winded grunt was torn from your chest, clutching his forearm to balance yourself.
“gunfire.” you brows creased with worry. it was clear tarsem aimed to route all the compound’s defenses to the south side so the sneaky escape in the north would be less difficult. however, there were some loyal soldiers who didn’t hesitate to let their rounds loose. you stepped forward against tarsem’s advice. katir’s agitated cries ignited a protective instinct within you, drawing you to him like a child cries’ would their mother.
before your concern could reach its peak, katir’s talons dug into the roof again and drrrrragged the metal exterior back enough for you and tarsem to slip through. he leaned back, peeking one eye into the hallway. his pupils dilated upon seeing you.
“he is tough,” tarsem concluded. you both ran to the openings. he bent at the knees, interlocking his fingers between his legs. “jump.”
you stepped back, getting a running start before leaping onto tarsem’s hands—you tightened up your form as he launched you upwards. you flew through the ceiling, latching onto katir’s neck. his smooth skin made it hard to find a footing, but a swing of your legs was all you needed to mount him.
tarsem was close behind, his height making the climb easier. he shifted behind you, securing you with a hand on your thigh. the other patted katir’s neck, calling for flight in na’vi.
with an ear-piercing cry, katir’s armored wings took flight. the wind underneath his wings knocked the attacking soldiers off balance and only when you gained altitude did you see tarsem’s impact. the density of tanks, skel suits, and scorpions were at the other side of the compound, swiftly dispersing to the northside as they realized where the threat truly was.
a sigh of relief left your lips when the clouds concealed your position, leaning back onto tarsem’s chest while the panic slowly left your body. the fresh air whipping past your face coaxed your eyes closed as pandora’s moonborn symphony celebrated your freedom.
/
in fear of leading the RDA’s scouts closer to high camp’s location, especially with recoms who could make the journey now, tarsem set up camp far away from both the omaticaya’s and RDA’s base.
you knelt beside the nearby river, digging your knees into the mud. you stared numbly at your reflection in the water. the purple glow illuminated your figure, light dancing along your body as the water bent it.
emotions battled for attention inside you—do you cry? scream? both? you hadn’t eaten in days. gravity took advantage of your weakened state, making your bones unbearably heavy.
after giving katir adequate attention and reassurance, he curled up and dozed off. tarsem’s footsteps were light as he approached, crouching at your side.
he cupped his hands and lowered them into the water, pouring what he gathered onto your thighs. “you should clean yourself,” he murmured. “get this… blood off.”
he didn’t have to lift your shirt to assess your gunshot wound—your apparel was wrecked from the events of the past 48 hours, ripped to shreds and soaked with every liquid imaginable. they were now poor excuses for clothing, most of your skin peeking out from behind the fabric.
“y/n.” he called firmly when you didn’t respond. he pulled your shoulder back to get a better look at your face.
“yeah,” you answered finally, languidly reaching into the river and pouring water over your skin. “you can say it.”
“say what?”
“i told you so?” you elaborated. he chuckled in response. you continued, “thank you for coming for me. i’m in your debt.”
tarsem’s amusement vanished and his mouth twisted in disapproval. “you have no debt.”
“i do.” you shot back instantly, glimpsing at him. “that shouldn’t have happened at all—i shouldn’t have gotten caught, especially after begging to join the war party… how embarrassing.” you grumbled, swiping the now dirty water off your legs.
“don’t.” he stopped your rambling. “don’t insult yourself. great fighters like you have died for our people, or suffered worse fates. would you degrade them like you do yourself?”
you responded with a heavy sigh.
“eat.” he offered you fruits he foraged on the way to the campsite. you pick at the berries in his open palm, popping them in your mouth.
he stared at you for a long moment, debating something in his head. then, his hands were on you. he unwrapped the tattered fabric from your body, allowing the cool night breeze to waft over your bare shoulders.
“what are you doing?” you mumbled but didn’t pull away from him. at this point, his hands were as familiar as your own skin.
“finally getting rid of these sky people clothes. takes away from your beauty.”
“no,” you shook him off, looking at him square in the face. “what are we doing, tarsem? you’ve insulted and complimented me in the same breath. i am a sky person. human. getting rid of my clothes won’t change that.”
his lips pulled into a deep frown. “your humanity is not something for you to be ashamed of, as much as others have tried to make that the case. it is obvious being human means more than having this form. love, kindness, a fighting spirit… this is what i know humanity to be because it’s what you carry in your soul. if you are human, then the rest are not deserving of that label. the ones who seek to harm us are evil—demons. inhumane. they cannot possibly be human because they are not like you. stop comparing yourself to them. i won’t see you do this to yourself any longer. you are what you are, but you choose who you become. and you have become— you are good.”
all the pathways in your brain clicked together.
you held his gaze.
how was that exactly what you needed? months of inner turmoil. years of questioning, self-loathing, trying to earn space, earn a place, earn love with the only people you’ve ever known—
his hand brushed past your hair, cradling your face. “oel ngati kameie.”
(i see you.)
the lump in your throat pulsed against its confines, demanding the dam to break. you inhaled deeply, eyes creasing warmly as you leaned into his palm. “oel ngati kameie.”
you didn’t need to reason out why you deserved to be here. you just had to remember who you were—a child born of this world in every way that mattered.
his calloused thumb dragged across your cheek. he leaned in imperceptibly, his nose bumping against yours. it was soft and tentative—still unsure, asking for permission.
your hands found his shoulders as you met him halfway. a slow smile spread across his face as he just before his lips found yours, soft and warm. the kiss was gentle, carrying the ease of years spent side by side and the thrill of crossing a line you only teased before.
he gripped your chin with one hand, the other finding the base of your skull. every nerve inside you buzzed with a delicious ache, a mix of comfort and the thrill of something new. you melted into him, lips parting slightly and inviting him in without words.
when he finally pulled back to catch his breath, his eyes held a softness. “oel ngati kameie,” he murmured against your lips. the air was just you and him, making your head spin. he swallowed whatever response you were searching for, fingers tightening in your hair as he closed the gap again.
you broke again and managed a soft, “oel ngati kameie.”
he smiled that slow, knowing smile that was his signature. and as his lips brushed yours once more with a soft, lingering kiss, all thoughts of cleaning up slipped away; you were prepared to get dirty if it meant staying wrapped in him.
he pulled back, releasing your head. after a moment, he resumed his ministrations, pulling your clothes away.
you were in a daze, his words on replay in your head. but when the air dipped into your navel, you were shocked into lucidity. you grabbed his wrist, heat blooming on your face. “uh… i can get the rest.”
he raised an eyebrow. “nothing about you should be hidden, yawne (beloved). i meant that.”
you squirmed, grip tightening around him. he began to move back but you tugged him closer. “wait, i—” this is so embarrassing. “i want you to, just… you don’t think it’s weird between us?”
a knowing smile spread on tarsem’s face, his blue skin basking in the river’s purple hue. “you would be surprised at our generation’s openness. unlike our parents and grandparents, we are exposed to humans regularly and understand that like na’vi, humans are on a spectrum. you’d be surprised at how many of them have already… explored.”
you blinked. you were not aware of this at all. “what, with norm’s team? and the other human bases?”
tarsem’s smile grew.
“you’re joking.” you mirrored his expression, though your smile was disbelieving.
tarsem shrugged. “was it ‘weird’ between your mother and father?”
the implication was clear.
“i don’t care what others would say. i don’t even care what your father would say,” tarsem’s pupils dilated the longer he studied you. his eyes darkened, voice low. “i will do what i want. i am olo’ekytan, but even without the title, nothing could stop me from becoming one with you.”
you had no words for him—no prior knowledge to know how to deal with the ache in your gut or the way your skin tingled when he looked at you like that.
he laid you back on the soft grass, one large hand sliding beneath your shoulder blades, the other cradling your hip. the muscles of his thigh brushed yours as he settled over you. his weight was grounding. he descended upon your skin like a starved man—his mouth found the line of your jaw, teeth grazing your skin.
your hands flew to his biceps, bracing against him. heat radiated from him in waves. you curled your fingers into his skin, thighs pressed together beneath him. great mother, your skin was burning up. your breasts strained against your chest as your breathing quickened, and your hips arched without your permission, drawn toward the intoxicating heat of him. you didn’t know what to do with the raw energy coursing through your veins, or the heat gathering between your legs.
“become one? i don’t have a queue,” you said softly.
“bah,” tarsem scoffed, tucking his head into the crook of your neck, his breath igniting goosebumps across your chest. his hands smoothed down your sides, fingers brushing the underside of your breast just to hear the way your breath hitched. they dropped lower to curl under your thighs and pull you closer, flush against the hardness straining beneath his loincloth.
“we will connect in many other ways, yawne. in all ways.” he rolled his hips into you, slowly, deliberately, and the pressure made you gasp. “there is no way i am not getting into you tonight, and let eywa hold me accountable to this promise.”
he raised his head and your skin cried out for his warmth. “unless, you do not—”
“no,” your nails dug into his shoulders to anchor him against you. “no. i want you. please.”
he hummed, satisfied, the sound vibrating against your throat as he kissed lower. his muscles flexed as he hunched over you, nosing your cheek, then dragging his lips across your collarbone. he was huge, in both size and stature. your hands roamed his body up the ridges of his stomach, across the broad expanse of his back. he littered kisses down the column of your neck, bringing your hips up to meet his with a firm grip on your thighs, grinding slowly but with insistence.
breath fled your lungs in a sharp, choked gasp. your eyes squeezed shut, nails biting into his skin as white-hot friction bloomed between your thighs.
“you are small,” tarsem chuckled lowly, eyes flashing as he peeled your legs further apart. the weight of him between them coaxed a content sigh from your lips, knees seeking to close back around him—amongst other parts of you. “but i know how to take care of you. how to prepare you. i think of it often.”
his ramblings kickstarted a heartbeat in your core. he thinks of what often? his fingers climbed, brushing the edge of your core, and your hips jerked at the contact. his mouth returned to your neck, sucking harder and dragging his tongue over the bruises he left behind.
“tarsem,” you whispered, holding him close. “please.”
tarsem’s laugh was boyish as he propped himself above you. “have i seduced you so well? it seems all you can do is beg, yawntu.”
embarrassment shot across your body like lightning, eyes widening. you smacked his chest, kicking him back with your legs. “nga skxawng, pelun si nga say fula—” you cursed him out in your native tongue. (you moron, why did you say that?)
his laughter only grew. reclining on his hind legs, he easily caught your ankles in his hands and paused your tirade by gently dragging you back toward him. “pey, pey, pey, i joke,” he snickered, dodging the dirt you threw at him. “i joke!”
he dipped to peck your forehead, lingering over your mouth before finally giving in to the magnetic pull of your lips. his kiss was slow this time. “you have done the same for me. reduced me to begging. i have prayed for this night.”
“i never expected you to be this desperate,” you raised an eyebrow.
tarsem’s lips curled into a sultry smile. “it’s been years of wanting, ngatsyìp.”
you snorted. “and all those proposals you’ve gotten over the past few months?”
“thrown away.” he rubbed your legs absently. “i am in no rush for tsahik.”
your frown let up as the weight of his desire grounded you again, and you allowed him to kiss you, throwing your arms around his shoulders. your nipples brushed his chest, and he groaned into your mouth, shifting to press against your entrance through your tattered bottoms. “this isn’t sustainable,” you mumbled between kisses.
“tsk,” he hissed, biting your lip in retaliation, tugging it between his teeth before releasing it with a soft pop. “do not ruin this with logic. let the future bother our future selves, hm?”
“you are the future, tarsem. you can’t dismiss these things so easily.”
“fine. i will entertain your concerns.” he sighed, pressing his forehead to yours. “i will not lie and promise forever. but we share a special bond. even if we part ways in the future and this night is all we ever have—it is real. this is happening. you, me, right now. it would be a mistake to turn away from it. if i do not give you all of me tonight, i will always wonder.”
he kissed your cheek, your jaw, the corners of your lips. “we will always be friends. great friends, no matter what. this, i vow to eywa. forget about our responsibilities, yawne, be mine for the night.”
when he kissed you again, you had no fear of the future.
/
hours later, tarsem rose to his feet with a yawn. he rolled his shoulders back, dragging his feet to the river and dipping them in the water. “perfect temperature.”
you took his hand when he offered it. he pulled you up beside him, catching you when your knees buckled.
“wash.”
“bossy.” you teased, feeling infinitely better overall despite the ache in your legs. tarsem, on the other hand, seemed unaffected by the night's passionate exchange. he walked you to the river and left you to bathe.
you took a deep breath and let whatever ‘sky people’ clothes that miraculously survived your round fall to the riverbank, descending into the calm waters with nothing but your mother’s necklace. you hissed softly as the river licked at your side wound, but the sting became normal the longer you lingered. your pain tolerance allowed you to twist and turn as you normally would, so you began to scrub the rest of the dirt, sweat, and tears off your body.
you dunked your face, resurfacing with a gasp and wiping the chilled water from your eyes. after smoothing your hair down your scalp, you glanced over your shoulder, heart fluttering when you saw tarsem already watching you. you offered him a coy smile.
he’s weaving something, you noticed, curiosity piqued. he approached the river as if reading your thoughts. the calm current broke around him as he waded to you. his golden eyes greedily drank in the sight of your body distorted underneath the current, shaking himself out of his trance. he cleared his throat and held up his woven garments.
“for you, as promised.” he said simply. omaticaya dress.
your fingers ghosted over the hanging decorations from the pieces. you didn’t have much time to appreciate his handiwork before he tugged you to the shallows, wrapping the loincloth around you
it sat high and snug on your hips, anchored by a lattice of knotted cords that converged just below your navel. long strands cascaded around you, floating on the river’s surface. the high-slitted sides showcased the contour of your hips, drawing the eye to every curve. tarsem gathered the belt around you, pulling it tight around your hips and tying the ends in a firm knot, securing the wrap underneath your belly button.
“up,” he nodded to your arms next. you obeyed wordlessly.
he lassoed your torso with the chestpiece, pulling even closer to him. he gathered each breast in the fabric and twisted the cloth between them, tying a knot and letting the adornments hang down your cleavage.
“beautiful.” tarsem hummed. “as always.”
you met his gaze and smiled. katir rumbled as he woke up, his low tone underlying the shrieking songs of birds in flight above. he shook his beak like he was trying to throw the sleep off his face. you laughed at the sight, following tarsem out of the river. light filtered through the canopy of trees and painted your skin gold as the sun made its path to meet the clouds.
for the first time in forever, you felt untethered by what you had to be to belong. the river washed away the shell you once were; you had nothing to prove—you’ve never had anything to prove.
pandora was home and you belonged to her. she always loved you; now, you could finally love yourself.
. . .
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Summary: When everything seems to fall into place in Forks, Washington, a string of mysterious deaths call the attention of both vampires and werewolves in town. As the redheaded vampire returns with her mind set on revenge, (Y/N) and Bella Swan find themselves in the center of danger once again. With secrets still lingering between them about their past best friend, they will find themselves stuck in a whirlwind of love, betrayal, and the hardest choices they’ll have to make. But one thing is certain: no one will go a day without a taste for vengeance.
<- Previous
Sleep had been hard to come by in the Swan household. While Charlie worried about his daughters’ futures and punished himself for not protecting them from the pain and sorrow that had snuck its way into their lives, Bella and (Y/N) worried for their own lives and that of their father. Even with Edward and Alice watching the house, they couldn't help the feeling that Victoria was near—watching, waiting. It was unnerving, to say the least. The woman had so much power over them, and they had yet to see her.
But life went on. Whether a vengeful vampire was on their trail or not, the world kept spinning and the days kept passing. As helpless as they felt at times, there were still things they could control. Bella could still go to work when she needed to, and (Y/N) could prepare for Paul's prom night.
Emily had offered some time ago to help her get ready since Bella had a shift at the Newton's store and her father, as much as he wanted, had not only had to work but had no idea what she needed to prepare. In the silence of the empty house, she packed whatever she believed would be necessary to get ready, her mind still trying to understand Alice's kindness.
The dress now hung in a plastic bag after Bella had suggested they have the garment dry cleaned. She thought Paul would appreciate the gown not smelling of vampire. Since then, it had stayed in front of her closet, the beading catching the light of the sun every afternoon. And (Y/N) couldn't wrap her mind around how she'd gotten such a beautiful piece in her possession, especially after she had been so cold toward its owner.
She had tried to thank Alice at school the very next day, but Edward had said she'd gone hunting, but he would relay the message, not that any thanks were necessary. He said she'd felt awful for pulling the sisters away from the shop that Saturday morning and had wanted to make it up to them. He'd also mentioned no one in the family blamed (Y/N) for her animosity toward them—they would have been surprised if she didn't at least hate them a little. Hell, he'd even apologized for his behavior the night Bella came back from Italy.
(Y/N) wasn't sure how to feel about the Cullens those days. There was anger, of course. It was something that would never die down, not for what they had put her sister through. That resentment would live inside her until she took her last breath on earth. But there was something new growing inside her. There was a kindness that had snuck its way into her heart. She looked at them with slightly different eyes. Much softer than the ones she had started with.
The younger Swan was finishing packing up her car when Bella's truck rolled into the driveway, her sister jumping out excitedly. “Guess who can join you now?” she smiled. “Just give me a second to grab something.”
“Wait, I thought you had to work,” (Y/N) said, furrowing her brows. “Don't tell me you were already laid off.”
“No,” Bella laughed. “Mrs. Newton dismissed me for the day. It was really slow, and there was no need to have me and Mike there at the same time.”
“But you're gonna be going off to college soon. You need the money, Bells.”
“I'm fine,” she assured her. “Aren't you happy I can help you get ready now? It's your first prom!”
“Right,” (Y/N) chuckled. “Hurry up, then. I'm leaving in five minutes, whether you're in the car or not.”
“Ruthless,” Bella called back as she ran into the house, a laugh following her words.
As nervous and scared as Bella had been the past week, (Y/N) had noticed a giant change in her. For the first time, it didn't seem like she was pretending to be happy or forcing herself to appear a certain way for the sake of their family. There was a side of her that had been dormant for a long time, squandered by a responsibility that should have never been hers. Even with imminent death breathing down their necks, the older Swan had allowed herself to show part of the personality she had guarded closely to her heart. It was a side to Bella she had only seen glimpses of when they were little. When the world still seemed so big for how big they could dream.
Bella was funny, carefree, and, most of all, she was caring. The latter was much to fault, but she always cared. And now that they didn't have to watch over their mother and she wasn't as invested in her relationship with the Cullens, she was pouring everything she could into her sister's cup. Slowly but surely, she was trying to rebuild a bond that had been far too influenced by outside sources.
“Took you long enough,” (Y/N) laughed as she pulled her van out of the driveway, Bella sitting beside her, holding a small box in her hands. “What you got there?”
“Just a little surprise for you,” she smiled. “I was gonna give it to you yesterday, but I forgot. If Mrs. Newton hadn't told me to go, I would have called you to get it.”
“But what is it?”
“You'll know soon enough.”
“I would have never taken you for someone who would be excited about prom,” (Y/N) said. “You used to say school dances were just a stupid excuse to spend money.”
“Well, I don't care about prom and all of that,” she argued. “But I know you do, and I wanna share these kinds of things with you.”
A bashful smile stretched across (Y/N)'s face, unable to show just how happy that sentence had made her. “You still haven't said what's in the box,” she teased. “Give me a hint at least.”
“Just be patient,” Bella laughed. “It's nowhere near a designer dress, but it's something.”
“You're infuriating,” she sighed loudly. “But fine. I'll be patient.”
With a shared laugh, the girls fell into a comfortable silence for the rest of the drive. Only months before, they would have tried to fill the quiet with mindless ramblings or would have sat with the choking void of uncomfortableness between them. In the few months (Y/N) had been there, they had grown not only as people but as sisters. That made every second of dread she had to live through worth it. She couldn't see a world where Bella wasn't close to her anymore, even if that day got closer and closer every moment that passed.
At the Uley home, voices reached them before they were able to get out of the car. Embry and Quil were outside, throwing a football between them while Sam and Emily sat on the porch, shielded from the sun. (Y/N) couldn't fathom how anyone could think the pack was anything other than a simple group of what you could call friends, much less how they could believe they were a gang. Sure, the thought had been planted into her head by Jacob, but seeing them so clearly now, she could only laugh.
“(Y/N), hi!” Quil exclaimed, stopping the game to wave to her. “I'm finally one of them! Can you believe it? I shifted!”
“Of course I believe it,” she chuckled, pulling bag after bag from the van. “And the whole street will too if you don't lower your voice.”
“Hi, (Y/N),” Embry said, taking her bags before she could argue with him about it. “How've you been? I've been meaning to check up on you, but...”
“I'm good, Em,” (Y/N) assured him, and she meant it. Other than her little mishap with Jacob at the school and Victoria being after her and her family, she was good. “You don't have to worry about me.”
“Right,” he smiled. “It's just that after everything, I wish I had done more, you know? To help.”
“You did enough,” Bella chimed in. “No one could have known Jake was capable of something like that. You did good by saying what you saw. Thank you, Embry.”
“Oh, uh, of course,” the boy responded, his face growing red as he became flustered. “Yeah. No. Don't mention it.”
The girls shared a look between them as they silently laughed, watching as the red crept up Embry's neck as he hurried into the house. Quil followed suit, taking (Y/N)'s dress bag and taking the same path his friend had disappeared through.
“Hello, (Y/N),” Sam said as they got close enough. “Bella, it's good to see you.”
“Hi, Sam,” (Y/N) responded as Bella nodded a hello. “Thanks for letting me get ready here. It's a hell of a lot closer to the school than my house.”
“You're always welcome here, (Y/N),” he smiled. “Both of you are, of course. And Emily would have probably had my neck if I said no.”
Emily playfully hit her fiancée's chest. “You're funny,” she said as she stood to wrap both girls in a hug. “I made some lemon bars, if you want some before we start.”
“I think it would be a sin if I refuse anything you make.”
“You'd never be invited back.”
“Stop saying things like that, Sam,” Emily interjected, chuckling as she ushered the girls inside. “He's been in a goofy mood since he threw Jared and Paul out of here.”
“Why'd he do that?”
Emily smiled as she plated a couple of lemon bars in the kitchen, remembering the arguments both boys were throwing around. “Well, Paul wanted to see you while you got ready, but I told him that was unacceptable,” she chuckled. “And well, you know, Kim, Jared's girlfriend, is meeting him here, and he didn't want to waste a second to see her again. Sam almost used his alpha voice on them. So dramatic, those boys.”
“Jared has a girlfriend?” Bella questioned. “What about the whole wolf thing?”
“Well, she is his imprint,” Emily said matter-of-factly. “She knows about all of this, of course.”
“Imprint? What does that mean?”
(Y/N) choked on the piece of the lemon bar she had pierced with her teeth. At that moment, she realized there was a big piece of information she had not told her sister about. Not because she didn't want her to know, but she had simply forgotten. Bella already knew so much, it didn't cross the girl's mind that there were things she probably didn't know yet. “I thought we'd talk about this. Sorry, Bells,” she said. “It's one of those things that come with being a wolf, I guess.”
“That still doesn't tell me what it is.”
“Well, it's something like a soulmate,” Emily explained, her hands wrapped around a steaming mug. “Every wolf has one. The moment their eyes meet, everything changes.”
“The world shifts and suddenly, all that matters is them,” Sam added, startling the girl as he joined them without making much noise. “We don't control it. We can't. Whoever the universe decides is right for us, that's who we imprint on. We become whatever they need—a friend, a brother, a lover.”
“What if the person doesn't want any of that?”
“Physical distance hurts. Emotional? It wrecks you,” he said. “Only three of us have imprinted, and we haven't really been rejected, so we don't really know what would happen. But I imagine the pain is unbearable, as close to death as you can get without really dying.”
“So that... is that the reason Paul was so invested in you?” Bella asked, worry crossing over her face. “How can you know if what you feel is real?”
“I asked myself the same thing,” Emily responded. “But you just know. The imprint bond can't really make you fall in love.”
“But does it make the wolf fall?”
Sam smiled sadly, knowing the only story that would quench any questions. “It simply changes everything,” he said. With a gentle sigh, he recounted his experience. He relieved every grueling moment, from shifting and thinking he'd lost his mind to breaking ties with Leah and his family; from imprinting on Emily to their decision to stay away from each other; from losing control in her presence and wounding her for life to the love they shared now. “The bond, much like regular feelings, is complicated and can get messy. It was hard for me, and it was hard for Paul. What we feel now is just as real as everything you feel and have felt for the Cullen boy. Love can destroy and hurt, but it can also heal and save.”
Bella turned to her sister then, tears welling in the corners of her eyes. “So, it hurt you then?” she sniffled. “Staying with Jacob and pushing Paul away hurt you?”
“It did,” (Y/N) confirmed with a soft smile, looking down at her hands as though they were the most interesting thing in the world. “I thought I was going crazy. I mean, after a second of seeing Paul, I could not get him out of my mind. Even when I had finally gotten everything I ever wanted, I didn't want it anymore.”
“But how could you tell your feelings for Paul were real?” Bella asked. “How can you be sure it's not because of this imprint bond?”
“Like Emily said, you just know,” she shrugged. “Believe me, I spent weeks convincing myself that what I felt for Paul was the universe messing with my head. But I know my heart, and I know the feelings I have for him are the realest thing I've felt in a long time.”
Bella sat with their words for a second, keeping quiet while she processed what she had learned. It was easy for her to understand the all-consuming love that came with the imprint bond, the need for closeness and affection. She'd been bitten by the same bug only a year before, and she was still shaking from the aftermath of all she had lived through. What she couldn't imagine was not having control over those feelings. She had to trust (Y/N) and Emily when they said their emotions were not swayed by the link. They were the ones living through it, and they were the only ones who could speak on it.
Thankfully, as she got to meet Paul and Sam, even Jared, she could understand why the girls had fallen for them. Even through everything they had experienced, only love and care had sprouted from the turmoil. She was a bit envious, she couldn't lie. But overall, she was happy that her sister had found someone to walk through life with her, especially for when she wouldn't be around.
After a few more lemon bars and some mugs of tea, the boys left to relieve the other wolves from their patrolling duties, and the girls retreated to the main bedroom. Once there, (Y/N) wasn't sure what to do. Being in online school did not gift her with many social events, much less ones where there were so many preparations. But Emily seemed to have a good grasp on what had to be done, which she was grateful for.
The Young woman sat her in front of a beautiful wooden vanity and quickly got ready to work. They'd had conversations during the past week on what (Y/N) wanted done, but she wasn't quite sure what would be best. So, Emily had taken the reins, using the girl as a blank canvas for her masterpiece. Bella was there for moral support and to fill the silence while the older girl worked.
“You're really good at this, Emily,” Bella said, watching as she took strand after strand of (Y/N)'s curled hair to create a half-up hairstyle.
“Thanks,” she smiled brightly. “I kind of feel like I'm preparing my own daughter for her prom.”
“Is that something you want? Kids, I mean.”
“Well, I would love to have children someday,” she said, a sad smile tugging at her lips. “I always dreamed of having a big family. But I don't think Sam is ready for that yet—don't know if he ever will be.”
“How so?” Bella inquired. “If you don't mind me asking.”
“I think he's just scared,” she shrugged. “He's said he doesn't want his kids to go through what he did with the whole werewolf business. So, as long as there are vampires near, I don't think he'll stop shifting—not until he believes we're safe enough.”
“What do you mean, stop shifting? I thought this was for life.”
“It is if they choose it,” Emily explained. “Though it takes a lot of hard work and dedication, they can get to a point where they don't phase anymore and they start aging again.”
The look of surprise on Bella's face forced a laugh out of Emily and (Y/N). As much as they had talked about werewolves and vampires, there was still so much she didn't know. “Right, I guess this doesn't really come with a manual,” the woman chuckled. “Well, right now the boys are not really aging, though physically they already look much older. But there will come a day when they will choose to quit this life or not, and they will go back to being as human as you and I.”
“Wow, there's a lot more to this wolf business than I thought,” Bella said. “I can't imagine having to go through all of this alone. Much less when there are so many people involved who don't know the truth.”
“That's why Leah and I's relationship got so bad,” Emily sighed defeatedly. “I tried my best to push Sam away, to make sure he repaired what had been broken. Even if it hurt me to reject him over and over, I didn't want Leah to hate me like she does now. When I learned the whole truth, I was already too determined to fix things with my cousin that I said things that I can never take back. If there is one thing I regret most, it's that.
“Sam blames himself for what happened to me. There are days he can't bear the guilt he gets from seeing the scars on my face,” she said. “But, if I'm honest, I feel like it's mostly my fault.”
“I understand how you feel,” (Y/N) said, her fingers reaching for the deep-set scars on her back. “I know Paul doesn't like it when I blame myself, but sometimes I can't help it. I've gotten in the way when I shouldn't have. I've gotten hurt, I've gotten him hurt, and all because I couldn't just stay away. There are so many things I regret, but I'm just glad we're here and that we're happy.”
“How is it that we've managed to find the most dangerous men in the world as humans, and have not gone by unscathed?” Bella found herself laughing. “This has to be some kind of record or something.”
“Might just be,” Emily laughed before turning back to (Y/N). After almost three hours of hair and makeup, it was done. “Well, we're finished here. What do you think?”
Though the makeup was minimal and the hairstyle simple, she felt she looked completely different. Her features were beautifully accentuated without being overwhelmed by the cosmetics. There were touches of glimmer in her eyes that caught the sun in the same way the beads of the dress did. All while her hair was softly curled and pinned into a simple half ponytail. “I look... wow,” (Y/N) said, taking in her reflection in the mirror before her. “I didn't think I could look like this.”
“You look beautiful, (Y/N),” Bella smiled as she approached her with the box she'd brought from home. “There's only one thing missing.”
From the package, she pulled out a rhinestone headpiece to adorn the styling Emily had done. With a smile on her face, Bella slid the comb into her sister's hair. “There,” she said. “You look perfect, (Y/N).”
“It's gorgeous, Bella,” the younger Swan smiled. “Where did you get it?”
“I went back to the store on Wednesday after my shift,” she said. “Since they got you the dress, I wanted to get something special that came from me. I think it really ties everything together. Don't you?”
“Yes,” she beamed. “I love it, Bells. Thank you.”
“Of course,” the older Swan responded. “Let's get you in the dress now. Paul should be here any minute.”
If they had been some years older, in their father's house, and the dress had been white, Bella would have been helping her sister get ready for a much different event. Sure, it was only a prom this time, but it was stilll one of the moments in her life she was still able to be a part of. She didn't know just how many she'd have to miss, all because she had fallen for a boy long before her heart could be filled by her real family. Edward would forever be the love of her life, but he was no longer at the top of her list.
As she zipped up (Y/N)i's dress, a soft knock echoed around the room. “Hey, guys...” Sam began speaking before his words got trapped in his throat. “Wow, (Y/N). You look... wow.”
“Yeah,” he chuckled. “Kid's nervous and everything for some reason.”
“Don't tease him,” she reprimanded jokingly. “Do I need to remind you how nervous you were the first time we went out?”
“Okay, let's not start bringing up the past. Shouldn't leave the kids waiting out there.”
“We'll go out first,” Emily said to (Y/N). “You finish putting on your shoes and come out, okay?”
Nerves ran through her as she strapped the silver heels to her feet, her hands trembling as she tried to pass the strap through the buckle. It was just a dance, she kept telling herself. But it was more than that. It was normal. In another town, another life, (Y/N) would simply be going to prom with her boyfriend. There wouldn't be any pretending their lives were in danger, there wouldn't be any looking over their shoulders, there wouldn't be any question of their feelings.
Yet, the universe had decided that the life they were living was the one they were meant to have, and (Y/N) had no problem going through it all if she had the people she most valued by her side. She'd stared death in the face and come out victorious. If she'd done it once, she could do it again. Prom was light work compared to swimming through rough waves and running from a vampire.
Normal. That's what she had wanted. That's what she was going to get, at least for one night. And it would start the moment she crossed the door.
A/N: i find it so weird that senior proms in the US is before graduation on a random week day like two to three months before grad. over here we have proms weeks after graduation, that way we don't have to worry if anything that happens at the dance it'll affect the grad, especially since our legal drinking age starts at 18.
anywho 🤭🤭 prepare for some major romantic fluff next chapter and something a bit more... also, this is the most physical description i've included of (Y/N) so, obviously if the writing doesn't match, just skip over it 🫣
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Summary: When everything seems to fall into place in Forks, Washington, a string of mysterious deaths call the attention of both vampires and werewolves in town. As the redheaded vampire returns with her mind set on revenge, (Y/N) and Bella Swan find themselves in the center of danger once again. With secrets still lingering between them about their past best friend, they will find themselves stuck in a whirlwind of love, betrayal, and the hardest choices they’ll have to make. But one thing is certain: no one will go a day without a taste for vengeance.
<- Previous
“I transferred some money into your account,” Charlie said as he fussed over his daughter's jacket. “I also put some cash in your purse in case you guys get too hungry.”
“Dad, I’m not five,” (Y/N) chuckled. “And we're just gonna go out to find a dress. We'll be back in time for the party.”
“Well, I know. I just want to make sure you girls have everything you need,” he said. “And I want to make sure you're feeling okay about the talk you're gonna have with your sister.”
Right. The talk. The week had come and gone faster than (Y/N) could have anticipated, and somehow the weekend had arrived. (Y/N) was ready to tell Bella everything, but she wasn’t quite ready for the aftermath. She wasn’t ready for pity, sadness, or concern. Hell, she didn't even want anger. All she wanted was to be done with the situation. “I think I'm good,” she smiled, trying her best to calm her father's worries. “After talking to you and Billy, I'm ready.”
“Well, I'm glad, sweetheart,” Charlie sighed, hugging his daughter tightly.
“You ready to go, (Y/N)?” Bella asked as she sauntered down the last stairs. “We got a bit of a drive.”
“Yeah, just done.”
“Alright,” she said. “We'll call when we're done, dad.”
“Be safe, girls,” he said before placing a kiss on the top of both their heads. "And grab some breakfast, alright? Make sure you eat.”
“Yes, dad,” Bella chuckled. “We'll see you later.”
“Alright, see you soon,” he said as they walked toward the door. “Love you, girls.”
“Love you, too,” they yelled back.
The dynamic between the three Swans had shifted for the better. For the first time in a long time, they were vocal about their appreciation for each other. They had become a unit and less of three ships navigating the same sea. Finally, they were sailing together. Even if it was only for a short amount of time, they were a unit.
“I'm thinking we could grab a bite at Granny's Diner,” Bella said halfway into the drive. They had been sitting in comfortable silence. Biding their time to see who would speak first. “They have some outside dining, and it might be the best place to talk. Unless, you know, you wanna do it now.”
“I'll wait for the restaurant,” (Y/N) answered. “Don't really feel like talking about life before I've gotten some food in my stomach.”
“It won't change the story,” her sister shrugged. “We could save ourselves an hour of coffee sipping.”
Truthfully, (Y/N) wanted to wait until they were in a public space to avoid Bella turning the car around and killing Jacob herself. She could sense her sister was itching for the truth, unravelling under the weight of all the theories her mind was coming up with, and none of it would ever compare to reality. The moment she found out, there was no telling how she would react. “I just need the time to compose myself,” she said. “Can I?”
“Yeah,” her sister smiled, reaching over to take her hand in his. “I just don’t want any more secrets between us, (Y/N). I want the rest of this year to be better. For you. For me. For us.”
“I want that, too, Bella,” she replied. “We deserve calm for a while.”
Quiet and calm were, of course, a mirage in Forks. It never lasted long, and it normally meant something big was lurking around the corner. But for a few more hours, even a few more days, they could pretend or believe it could be their future. A world where they were simply two girls, one on her way to college and the other buying her first prom dress.
Thirty more minutes of background music, and the odd nod-off from (Y/N), and Bella was parking across the little diner. There was only one table outside, as though the very universe had conspired to make everything just right. Truth was making its way into the light, and after that day, nothing would ever be the same.
The sisters took a seat and ordered promptly, nursing two mugs neither girl seemed too interested in. Procrastination ran in Swan veins, and they were experts at beating around the bush instead of getting to the point. But that morning, Bella would not tolerate it.
“Okay then,” she said, finally taking a small sip of her tea, “what did Jacob really do?”
(Y/N) sighed deeply, spinning the spoon inside her coffee with too much milk as she braced herself to tell the story. Hopefully, for the last time. “Where do you want me to start?” the girl asked. “From the very beginning, or what Edward and Paul were talking about?”
“From the start,” Bella responded. “I need to know everything he's done to you, (Y/N).”
And, once more, the younger Swan detailed the horrendous couple of months she spent alongside Jacob Black. She started with the good things. Because there were some, even if she could count them in one hand. There had been the crush she had harbored since she was a kid—the fluttering in her chest when she heard his name, the heat that rushed through her body when she was able to be near him, the happiness the idea of being with him brought her. There was the moment she saw him when she came back to Forks—the moment everything had rushed back, the joy and excitement of being in his arms for even a second. And there was their first kiss. Everything was so small in retrospect, but they were moments that had meant the world to her in the past. They were part of her history. She could never deny that.
Still, there was an evil that undermined any of the sweet words, the warm kisses, and the fulfillment of a lifelong wish. And it didn't take long for that dark side to take over. (Y/N) told her sister about the sly and insulting comments he would throw her way, and how good he was at making her feel like she deserved to hear them. Told her about his misconstrued concern for Bella, how he could derail every single one of their conversations with her. She spoke of his belittlement, of his gaslighting, and his unachievable ultimatum.
During all of this, Bella remained quiet, her grip on her mug getting tighter the more her sister talked. She wanted to give (Y/N) the space and time to let everything out, scared that if she spoke up, her sister would close up and hide the rest. As hard as it was, she had to bite her tongue to get the truth. The whole truth.
“After I couldn't get Embry out of the pack, he stopped calling and coming over,” (Y/N) continued. “That's when you and he started hanging out again. Well, you already know that part. When we went to his house, and everything went down, he wanted us to get back together, but I wasn't sure I wanted that—not anymore. Still, he kissed me, and I didn't know how to say no.”
Bella's jaw clenched, but instead of talking, she nodded to her sister to keep going. “He was different then, but so was I,” she sighed. “I didn't feel anything for him, and still, I tried to find what I felt for him in the past. But it was gone, and everyone was telling me to leave him.
“I tried many times, but something always happened that didn't let me,” she chuckled dryly. “Until the night after we almost drowned. I was telling him the truth, that I didn't feel the same about him, and I had to let him go. He didn't like that.”
She told Bella how Jacob had only wanted to get close to (Y/N) just so he could get closer to her, how he only tried to fix things with her because Bella had wanted that. Then, he told her how Paul was still keeping things from her, that he was lying right to her face. “I couldn't handle it, and I took off running,” (Y/N) sniffled, feeling tears welling in her eyes as she remembered the moment. “I don't know how long I was running, I just knew I had to get as far away as I could from his house. My legs were burning, and I could barely breathe when I suddenly tripped over a raised root and fell.
“I was all alone in the forest. Until I wasn't,” she said. Her hands trembled around her cup, the liquid inside rippling as her nerves took over her body. “Victoria found me.”
“What?!” Bella exclaimed, unable to contain her worry. It dripped from her words and splattered on her face, her hand reaching for her sister's instinctively. “Why didn't you tell me?”
“I didn't know how without telling you the whole thing,” (Y/N) replied, her voice cracking as the tears started to fall. “She was close to killing me. She said she wanted to kill me to hurt you, that somehow my death would hurt you and make it better when she killed you.
“I was sure that was it. Victoria had her hands around my throat, even slicing into my skin.” She raised her head slowly, revealing the scar that still remained at the top of her neck. “I passed out before I could see anything else, but Paul found me. Sam and Embry joined him later, and they helped him run her out of town. I was asleep until after Harry's funeral.”
“Oh, (Y/N).”
“That's not the worst part, Bells,” she sighed, squeezing her hand to ground herself. “When I was ready to go home, Embry came around and told us something we didn't notice. While Victoria was attacking me, Jake was there.”
“W-what are you saying, (Y/N)?”
“While Jacob was on patrol with Embry, he let visions slip from the night before,” she recounted, her chin trembling with every word. “He was running to the woods after he left you at home. He was angry, Embry said. That's when he happened upon Victoria attacking me. He could have stopped her. At least, scare her long enough for reinforcements to come. Instead, he stayed hidden, watching as she took my life. He'd said it was because he thought if I died, your grief would push you to find comfort in him.”
The older girl remained silent, anger building inside her like a volcano about to erupt. She could see why (Y/N) had decided to talk in a public space rather than in the car. Her veins itched with the need to get back in the car and yell at Jake until her voice was hoarse, hit him until her hands shattered into a million pieces. She wanted him to hurt for all the pain he had put her sister through.
"I wanted to tell you right after it happened, but Alice was there,” the girl sobbed. “You had something more important to get to, and I couldn't stop you. After that, I couldn't find the courage to tell you the truth. I spent days stewing in what I allowed to be done to me, and I felt like an idiot. Something inside me kept telling me that telling the truth would make me look stupid, so I just kept quiet.
“And then I found out how everyone had turned on Jake, and I couldn't help but feel responsible,” she continued. “I didn't want to ruin the last relationship he had by telling you the truth, too. So, I kept it to myself and hoped he didn't say anything.”
“(Y/N), there is no one more important in my life than you,” Bella croaked, her throat feeling tighter as her sister continued to talk. “I'm sorry I couldn't see how much you were hurting. I'm sorry I wasn't there for you. I'm just sorry for not being the sister you deserve.”
“No, Bells, you have nothing to be sorry for,” the girl said. “I made the decision not to tell you, okay? And I wasn't alone. I had Paul to help me, and dad and uncle Billy. You had your own problems to deal with. I mean, just with the whole vampire thing...”
“(Y/N), you almost died, and I had no idea,” Bella said, tears falling from her eyes. “I could have lost you, and I didn't know. My friend left you for dead, and I didn't know. You came out all this way for me, you almost died, and still you were looking out for me.”
“It's not like I really helped you,” (Y/N) chuckled softly. “I mostly complained to dad about you. If anything, it's Jacob that got you out of this rut.”
“You're wrong,” Bella smiled. “It was you.”
“Oh, come on.”
“I'm serious,” she said. “Jacob and I mostly talked about you, (Y/N). You knew that going back to Florida would kill me, and instead of letting mom drag me back, you left your life behind and came here for me. I know I haven't said it, and I didn't quite show it when you first came here, but I was so relieved when dad said you were coming to Forks. You're the reason I pulled myself out, (Y/N). Not Jacob. Not Edward. You.”
(Y/N) wanted to argue, but Bella stopped her before a word could leave her mouth. “I know you don't believe me, and you find it difficult to take a compliment,” she chuckled. “But even if you did complain at the start—which I don't really mind—you still showed me that I would be okay without Edward. There are other people out there who love me enough to drop everything and be there for me. You're why it stopped being hard to be here.”
“You're giving me too much credit, Bells,” (Y/N) said, feeling her face grow warmer as the seconds passed. “But I'll take it, nonetheless. I'm glad you're better.”
“And I'm glad you're alive,” she smiled. “And when we get back, I'm killing Jacob.”
The younger girl choked on her coffee at her words, scaring the waitress who had just arrived with their plates. The poor woman left with a red face and a heart that was probably hammering against her chest. Laughter erupted between the Swan sisters, hoping the server didn't hear the last bit of their conversation.
“You can't kill Jake, by the way,” (Y/N) whispered as they started on their food. “I told you everything so we could lay it all to rest. I don't want anyone to go after him to get revenge or whatever. I just want that nightmare to be over. He's had a reckoning of his own creation.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, Sam's been giving him extra patrols,” she said. Part of her was debating telling Bella what had occurred the weekend before, knowing it would only make her sister's anger grow. But she had promised the whole truth, and Bella was the only person she didn't want to keep things from—not anymore. “He's been sleeping in his garage, too. Billy barely talks to him. And, well, Paul is always just one word away from killing him.”
“How do you know he's sleeping in the garage?”
“Uh, well, when I dropped off Paul last weekend, I went by Billy's to talk to him,” she explained, her eyes focusing on anything but Bella. “As I was leaving, Jake showed up and asked me to talk.”
"(Y/N),” Bella reprimanded.
“He was basically trying to convince me not to talk to you, and he got a bit forceful.” Before Bella could complain or react much, (Y/N) shut her down. What she wanted most was to show her sister that she could handle herself. That the girl she was now was stronger than the one who had arrived to help mend her sister's broken heart. “He just grabbed my wrists, but I freed myself. He was trying to make everything my fault again, but I shut it down. And I am 100% sure he won't even come near me ever again.”
Bella kept quiet for a second, thoughts flashing across her eyes like a blazing fire. “You know, I could probably get Edward to kill him,” she whispered. “Get him out of the state, and poof.”
“Bells!” (Y/N) exclaimed. “You can't joke about something like that. And you can't leave Paul out of it either.”
Both sisters erupted into a chorus of laughter once more, pretending the plan was only a funny quip to pass the time. Maybe she was imagining it, but (Y/N) felt the air around them get lighter. Now that everything was on the table, the dark cloud that seemed to hang above them dispersed and only bright and sunny skies were forecasted ahead—as sunny as it could get. It had been years since either Swan had been hopeful for the future, but at that moment, anything they dreamed of was possible.
But they forgot about the world they lived in.
Once they were done with their food and had apologized to the waitress with a hefty tip, the girls started their walk toward the dress shop. “So,” Bella said, linking her arm with (Y/N)'s, "what color were you thinking for the dress?”
“Well, Paul's favorite color is red,” she said, trying to keep her smile small. “I was thinking of something in that realm.”
“That's a good start,” Bella laughed. “Are you gonna go short or long?”
“Long, I think is best. It is his senior prom.”
“I wouldn't know,” she sighed dramatically. “I didn't go to mine.”
“Well, maybe you shouldn't have gone to Italy to rescue your vampire boyfriend,” (Y/N) teased. “Thankfully, mine is more into fistfights than dramatic spectacles.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Bella chuckled sarcastically. “He's my ex, by the way. Better get that clear.”
“And is he gonna stay that way?”
“Oh, look,” Bella exclaimed. “We're here!”
The shop was smaller than other stores (Y/N) had been to, but compared to anything in Forks, it had quite the selection. As soon as they stepped inside, they were inundated with sequins and satin, beads and lace, and rows upon rows of fabric. It was slightly overwhelming, and they were completely underqualified for the task, but they had to start somewhere.
Twenty minutes in, and (Y/N) was ready to throw in the towel. There were many red dresses—long, short, slim, puffy. It was more than she could ask for. But none of them called to her. Bella pulled dress after dress, sticking her arm into the overflowing racks and showing her sister options, but none seemed to be the one. They knew neither of them was particularly adept in the fashion department, but the girl at least knew what she liked, and nothing quite fit the bill.
“You have to pick something, (Y/N),” Bella sighed, her arms growing sore from the gowns she had been holding. “At least, try them on. They might look different.”
“They’re just not right,” she complained. “I want to look good.”
“I know, but…” Bella’s words died in her mouth as her eyes fell on a figure across the street. They were unmistakable and stood out like a sore thumb. “What is Alice doing here?”
(Y/N) swiftly turned around, her eyes falling on the vampire who sat on a bench on the other side of the store. She held a newspaper over half of her face in a failed attempt at concealing her identity, but she couldn’t hide everything else. From the clothes to the hair, to the big designer sunglasses that hung on her nose. It was Alice Cullen, and it could be no one else. “Is she following us?” the girl whispered. “Did she hear about our plans?”
“I don’t know,” she answered as she put the dresses back on the rack. “But I intend to find out.”
A/N: in my head, Bella at least lands a good punch on Jacob that doesn't break her hand. but finally she gets to know everything, hopefully nothing else happens. hahaha... right? 🫣
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After being caught in a villain attack, your life is intertwined with those of the aspiring heroes that saved you.
<< Prologue - Next Part >>
Word Count, 3.5k
“How are we feeling? Your medication should’ve started kicking in by now,” says a nurse as she goes about conducting your checkup.
“I feel fine.” You give her the thumbs up, not really looking for any conversation. You appreciate how nice the nurses assigned to you are, but you think that’s partly because your parents haven’t visited other than to do paperwork, so they feel bad for you. They were always pretty distant, so you don’t mind them not showing up.
“Alright then, you know what button to press if you need anything.” She scribbles something down on her clipboard and leaves you be.
Back to staring at the ceiling again.
It was about a week after the incident and you were still in the hospital. You’re not sure what’s worse, the dull ache that washes over your body if you so much as squirm, or the boredom you’re faced with everyday. For a while, you were too out of it to realize how stuffy it was being stuck in a hospital bed, but after being taken off the stronger painkillers they had you on, you found yourself staring at the wall more often than not.
A classmate of yours brought your laptop, books, and some other things from your dorm to keep you entertained during your stay. They didn’t help much.
Looking at any type of artificial light for too long makes your head hurt, thanks to your concussion, and everytime you pick up a book you find your attention drifting before finishing the page.
You think it’s the lack of scenery and social interaction that’s making you go stir-crazy the most. Apart from that one classmate, you had no other visitors. The day after you got here a basket arrived from Best Jeanist’s agency, filled with treats and flowers and a card signed by your coworkers.
It makes you sad to think that by the time you’re discharged from the hospital, work studies will be over and it’s back to school. Though it’s nice to know that someone’s thinking of you.
There’s a knock at the door. You tell the person it’s okay to come in as you glance at the clock on the wall. It isn't the time they usually bring you dinner.
“Delivery!” A nurse enthusiastically calls out. You sit up, curious.
In her hands is another ‘get well’ basket, only instead of the sweets in the one you received from your colleagues, this one seems to have some over-the-counter medicine along with some other basic medical supplies, and what looks like a bag of takeout. Taking a closer look at the bag you realize it’s from a restaurant near the U.A. campus; a popular hang-out spot for students, especially after the move into the dorms.
“Who’s that from?” You ask, reaching out to grab it. The nurse shrugged.
“I’m not sure, it was dropped off at the front desk. Receptionist said it was a couple of U.A. boys. Maybe some classmates?”
You try to think of who it might be, but a single name can’t come to mind. You aren’t close with any of your classmates, even considering the one who grabbed your stuff only an acquaintance. Not that you particularly dislike any of them. It’s just that most have that ‘business student attending a prestigious school’ vibe.
“Well, whoever put this together definitely put some thought into it. Maybe they’ll come back.” The nurse sees your bewildered expression. She reminds you how much time there is until your next dosage of medication, then walks out and gently shuts the door behind her.
Despite how confused you are, the takeout has you feeling more upbeat than you’ve been in days. If you’re honest, any other non-hospital food would’ve brought out the same reaction.
You look inside the bag to see a little card on top of the containers. It’s plain white, ‘Get Well Soon’ printed on the front. In your hand, it’s a little warm from the food. On the other side of it is a brief handwritten note.
‘Hi there! I’m not sure if you remember, but we’re the ones who found you after the building collapsed. We’re relieved to hear that you’re doing okay! Always glad to help fellow U.A. student!’
Under the message are three signatures: Midoriya Izuku, Bakugou Katsuki, and Todoroki Shouto. Going by handwriting, Midoriya was the one who wrote the message. You sort of remember them.
You smile to yourself as you place the card on the bedside table. No longer able to resist the smell, you dig into the takeout bag. What they got were safe choices, in other words kinda plain and not what you would’ve picked, but after days of hospital food, you’re about ready to cry from the flavor.
After you're finished, full and satisfied, you go to toss the bag away when you see a thin white sheet of paper. A receipt from the restaurant. Bakugou was apparently the one who bought it.
He must’ve ordered it from his phone, then gone to pick it up, going by a cell phone number listed. Would it be an invasion of privacy to call or text to thank him?
You decide to sit on it. Looking through the rest of the basket, you find over-the-counter pain relievers, an electric heating pad, some ointments, and some other minor things.
You’re flattered, to say the least.
This sways your decision to reach out, grabbing your phone and the receipt.
‘Hi, this is the student from the hospital. Thank you all so much for saving me and buying me stuff! Food was good.’
You’re not sure exactly what to type, so you decide on something short. Almost immediately after setting your phone in your lap, it pings to let you know you got a response.
‘You better be grateful.’
Huh, not what you were expecting.
‘I really am! The supplies are definitely going to make the next week I’m stuck here more bearable. Tell your friends I said thanks!’
‘Those two dumbasses aren’t my friends’
Ok, you’re getting a better idea of who this kid is. Now that you think about it, wasn’t he the one who had to be muzzled at the sports festival? You’re kinda surprised they let him into the hero course.
Not sure what to say to that, you set your phone down and go back to digging through the basket. All the while, a warm feeling in your chest.
…
It’s a couple of days later, and you’re still holding onto the feeling that popped up knowing those boys thought of you. Truthfully you expect nothing else. What they’ve done for you is more than enough. So it’s definitely a surprise when a nurse slides into your room saying that you have a visitor; a U.A. boy named Midoriya.
You tell her to send him in. Quickly, after she leaves the room, you sit up and brush your hair down. It’s the first time you’ve seen anyone but a nurse in a week, and you’ll admit you haven’t been putting as much thought into your appearance since you got here.
“Um, hello. Is this the right room?” The green-haired boy, who you now know is Midoriya Izuku, nervously steps into the room.
“Y-yeah, it is.” You mentally groan at your awkward response, but he doesn’t seem to mind it.
“It’s great to properly meet you! I’m Midoriya Izuku,” he says with a genuine smile on his face. He holds up another takeout bag in his hand.
“Kacchan, er-Bakugou said you liked the food he picked up last time, so I grabbed you some more.”
“You really didn’t have to, but thank you so much!” You properly introduce yourself, returning his enthusiasm, and gesture to a seat on the side of your bed.
“Since you’re here, let me pay you back at least.” You reach over the other side of your bed to grab your backpack on the floor.
“No, no you really don’t have to!” He shoots his hands up and rapidly shakes his head.
“If you’re sure…” you trail off. You sit back up quicker than you should’ve and feel a slight pain in your ribs. It must show on your face because Midoriya leans closer and looks you over.
“All you alright? Should I call a nurse?” You hurriedly tell him no, that you just moved too fast.
“Still not used to being so fragile,” you painfully chuckle and wave a hand at your leg.
He focuses on your leg, brows furrowing and seeming to be lost in thought. You feel your cheeks warm at the attention, and you ask the first thing that pops into your head to distract him.
“Do you wanna sign it?”
“Huh?” He turns to you with wide eyes.
“Well, you did save me after all. It’d be kinda cool having the autograph of a future pro hero. You can consider me one of your first fans.” Saying this makes him light up.
You grab a marker from your bedside table left by one of the nurses and hand it to him. He stutters out a ‘thank you’ and signs his hero name in neat characters in the space just over your knee.
“Deku, huh? I’ll be sure to remember it.”
After that conversation comes more easily. Both you and him seem more easygoing than when he first arrived. You chat about school, your respective courses, who you’re working under, and even more. Soon a nurse sticks her head in to announce that visiting hours are ending soon.
“Again, thank you for stopping by. Talking with you has been the most fun I’ve had in a while.” Your gratitude makes him blush as he bashfully scratches the back of his neck.
“Really, it’s no trouble at all. I’ve been thinking about you a lot since the incident. You seemed pretty frightened, so I wanted to check up on you.” Now it’s your turn for your face to warm up. You smile at each other.
“Would you mind if I came to visit you again?” He asks as he stands from his seat.
“Of course not, just no more buying me anything. Here,” you grab a napkin from the takeout bag, still sitting unopened, and scribble down your number. He takes it with a smile, and then soon enough he’s out the door.
Deku; you know for a fact that in ten years you’ll be hearing his name in the news all the time.
…
The next day rolls around and you’re in a way better mood than previously. Midoriya had texted wondering how you were, and you even made plans for him to visit later in the week. The uptick in your mood must’ve been obvious, as even the nurses were commenting on it. They were happy to see you so happy.
After your recent checkup, the doctor said that your concussion was healing nicely enough for you to watch some TV, but to turn it off the second your head starts to ache.
That’s where you are right now, getting caught up on the dramas you missed. In fact, you’re so into it that you don’t notice the loud footsteps stomping down the hallway.
You’re leaning in, anticipating the moment the lead confesses her love when your door blows open like an explosion took place in the hallway.
You jump away, watching as a spiky-haired blond boy walks in without saying anything. Again, in a U.A. uniform. It doesn’t take much thinking for you to piece together that this is Bakugou Katsuki.
“What?” He spits out when he sees you staring.
“Uh, what do you mean ‘what’? This is my room,” you point from yourself to the door. He looks at you like you’re an idiot.
“I know that, dumbass. I’m here to give you this.” He stomps up and thrusts a piece of paper at you.
You cautiously glance at him as you take it. You continue to look at him with it in your hand.
“Read it,” he grunts out, moving to the chair next to your bed.
You shrug at him then look at it. It’s a letter from Principal Nezu confirming that due to being injured from no fault of your own, you won’t need to make up for your missed time on your work study nor will you have any extra assignments. There’s even a note at the bottom from Best Jeanist, saying that what happened was tragic and that you’re welcome back to his agency the next time work studies roll around.
You’re touched, and it must show on your face as you hear a scoff from the boy next to you. You’ll be honest, you forgot he was there. Something else you forget was the harsh movements you made when he barged in. A dull pain sets in your leg, and you squirm around to try and get more comfortable.
“What happened?” He’s quieter now, though his words still have a bite to them.
“I just moved too harshly. I’m fine,” you say, and he gives a huff. Things taper off after that. You’re not exactly sure why he stayed past giving you the note.
“Thank you for the other day. You were one of the heroes that saved me from the rubble, right?”
“Damn right, I blew it away. Neither of the other two did jack,” he smirks, pride in his voice.
“Yeah? Well, thanks for the food too. I really like that place.”
“Hospital food tastes like shit. It’ll probably make ya even worse,” he looks away when he replies.
He takes a glance at your cast, more specifically the name on it.
“Deku…” He looks pissed off.
“You want to sign it too? You’re also one of my heroes,” you say as you grab the marker and hold it out to him.
Bakugou looks startled by your offer, but only for a moment. He roughly grabs that tool from you and gets to work. He signs his hero name in big, scratchy characters right above Midoriya’s. With an upward twitch of his lips, he caps the marker and throws it back onto the table.
“Great Explosion Murder God Dynamite…” You’re not sure if you were just pranked. Seeing the disbelief on your face as you look back at him, he scowls.
“Better remember it,” he’s serious. Not wanting to piss him off even more, you move on to flattery.
“Don’t think I could. Look forward to seeing it up on the charts!” This pleases him, you think. You’re sincere when you say it.
You make small talk for the rest of his time there. It’s mostly you egging him on. You talked about class, how he’s at the top of his both in academics and strength (you have no way of knowing if that’s true), and how he interned under Best Jeanist earlier in the year, that’s why he was the one to get the note.
Eventually, a text pops up on his phone and he glances at it, scowling once he sees who it is.
“Damn hag,” he mutters as he slings his bag over his shoulder and stands.
“Don’t die,” he’s blunt as he turns back at you in the doorway.
“Not planning on it,” you reply, giving him a little wave. He stomps back out the door, slamming it shut of course. It sounds like he pauses outside, then you can hear his footsteps move down the hall back to the elevators.
He sure has a strong presence, and you know how far that’ll take him in this industry.
…
Suddenly it’s a few days later, the day you planned for Midoriya to visit. You were excited, and a bit jumpy. Even with a preset time you found yourself hopping up everytime the door opened, only to be disappointed once it’s just a nurse.
You found yourself wanting to impress him, or at least not look like you’ve been stuck in the hospital for weeks. A nurse assisted you in taking a bath, and you put on a sweater over the top of your hospital gown. You’re afraid there’s no hiding how dead your skin looks with the lack of direct sunlight.
The time ticks on. You set your eyes to the clock set high in the corner of the room and watch as the hour and minute hands place themselves where they need to be, then past.
At first you can excuse it, his train probably got delayed or there was an emergency. You really didn’t want to blame him for it. He was a hero in training, after all, he probably didn’t have time to spend with a kid in the hospital.
There’s a lock at the door. You twist around, hope being brought back.
“Come in!” You try to play it cool and keep the excitement out of your voice.
There’s a pause on the other side. The door slowly opens to show not who you were expecting. It’s a boy with two-toned hair, and two different colored eyes. This is Todoroki Shouto if you remember correctly.
“Midoriya’s in the bathroom,” he stated as he stood in the doorway. You light up and smile at him, overjoyed to hear that he hasn’t ditched you.
“Thanks for letting me know. You can sit down, if you want,” you wave a hand to the chair at your bedside.
He nods, then moves to sit. As he does, he seems to realize something and briefly introduces himself. You do the same.
You had your fair share of awkward moments when Midoriya and Bakugou first came to visit, but they both did their part in providing small talk. This boy, on the other hand, is content with being quiet. You’re more intimidated by him than you were with Bakugou.
As you try and think of something to say, you hear a murmur.
“That’s what he picked?” You glance over to see he’s staring at your leg, where his teammates have written their hero names.
“Yeah, Bakugou’s sure is… something. It does fit him, though.” He agrees with that, not saying anything else. You decide to hurry things along and grab your trusty marker, pointing it at him between your fingers. He looks at you blankly.
“Go on, the other two did. You were also there to help me. Thank you for that, by the way,” you give him a smile as you shake your hand lightly.
“I’m a hero, it’s my job. You don’t have to thank me.” He takes the marker anyway. Under your knee, he writes his name in small, neat characters. When he’s finished he caps the pen and sets it back on the table.
“Shouto? Staying true to yourself, nice.” He gives you a barely there smile, and is about to say something when the door rushes open.
“I’m so sorry I’m late! Todoroki wanted to come with when I said I was visiting,” Midoriya slightly bows as he apologizes.
“It’s fine. I have nothing else to do other than wait.” You wave him off.
Looking around, you realize the only place to sit in the room is being taken up by Todoroki. You could call a nurse, but you’d feel bad making them leave their station just for a chair. Moving your good leg more towards you, you pat at the empty space. He looks unsure of it, but you pat it harder to get the point across that it’s fine. Hesitatingly he sits on the edge of the bed, being very conscious of your cast.
You all get to talking a bit more, mostly you and Midoriya, but sometimes Todoroki’s dragged in by one of you, but he doesn’t seem to mind it.
…
As they’re getting ready to leave you call out to them.
“I know I probably said it a thousand times, but really thank you guys. If it wasn’t for you I’d be in even worse shape, or maybe dead,” you blink away tears in your eyes as you tell them. They both freeze at your expression.
Todoroki doesn’t seem like he knows what to do, but Midoriya gently places a hand on your shoulder. You place a hand over his.
“You guys are already amazing heroes.” They both are happy to hear that.
“Thank you, that means a lot to hear,” Midoriya sounds genuine, the light in his eyes warms your chest.
“So, see you later?” You let go of his hand, and he backs up to where Todoroki is by the door.
“Of course, I’ll text you when I have a free day.”
“Is it alright if I visit again?” The quiet boy speaks up. You’re surprised, but glad he seemed to have a nice time.
“Definitely, you guys are the only people I see outside of the nurses. It keeps me from going crazy.” They have a strange look flash across their faces, but quickly go back to normal and make to leave when a nurse walks in with some of your medication.
You don’t know if you can consider them friends yet, but you have a feeling these boys will stick around.
Summary: The effects of the pollen had to have worn off, but your desire for Kakashi hasn’t. Part Two to Pollen Count | Cross posted to AO3
Word count: 3k
Warnings: porn with feelings, p in v sex, fingering, little bit of hand worship/kink, little bit of overstimulation,
Notes: this is softer than I had originally anticipated it being but that’s okay!
Requests open! | support me on ko-fi!
Upon your return to the village, you try to avoid Kakashi as much as you possibly can. After he had made good on his promise to help deal with any lingering symptoms at an inn on your second night of traveling, as well as at the inn in the Sand Village both nights you’d stayed, and then once more on the journey back. You weren’t sure if the symptoms were truly lingering or if your body just had a weird reaction to Kakashi’s closer than usual proximity, so you thought space would be the solution.
Especially after Tsunade had made a comment about how friendly you both seemed before dismissing you.
Space seemed like the correct response; but when everything you saw made you think about your comrade, space also seemed like the incorrect response. Even your personal bed that Kakashi had never been near felt empty to lay in alone, and that wasn’t the solidifying factor for you that this wasn’t a lingering side effect of the pollen - it was a lingering side effect of Kakashi himself. How pathetic and extremely problematic. How could you function should you be sent out with him again if you couldn’t even lay in bed without thinking of him? How could you look at those hands when you knew how nicely they could grip your hips or your wrists? It just wasn’t fair. Did he even know that he was so addictive?
You supposed sexual problems required sexual solutions (or a denial to the sexual solution), so you remove yourself from the empty-feeling bed so you could go off in search of the ninja who was dominating your thoughts. He’d probably be at his home, or walking around the village reading that little book of his. Maybe all you had to do was listen for that little genin of his and the kid would lead you right to him?
Thankfully; you don’t have to look far, since you open your front door to see Kakashi standing in front of it and ready to knock. He looks to be as surprised to see you as you were to see him, which has you quickly recovering to obtain the cool advantage (for once). You lean against the doorframe as he lowers his hand to his hip, smile on your face as you ask, “Looking for me?”
“I think you’ve been avoiding me,” is all he says at first, and you quickly lose the cool advantage when you almost lose your balance at the statement. “It feels silly, since we’ve only been back for a couple days, but I haven’t seen you around like I usually would. Have I done something to upset you?”
“No, of course not! I think you should come in, though.”
He follows you inside without question, removing his sandals and taking a seat in your chair as you start to pace the floor. Sure you had planned on squashing this, but how were you supposed to tell him that you were craving him? That it wasn’t the pollen anymore but your own body telling you that you needed him around you, over you, inside you, and so forth? How were you supposed to just say that? Wasn’t having sex with someone supposed to make talking to them easier, or was Master Jiraiya bullshitting you when he said that?
“Are you-”
“Okay, maybe I was avoiding you a little bit but I needed to know if what I was feeling was lingering effects of the pollen or if it was… something else.” Your admission has him sitting up straighter, but you continue to pace since you knew you’d stop talking if you were to stop moving. Kakashi was good at stopping you in your tracks and you couldn’t let that happen just yet. “I don’t know how to describe it, but I can’t stop thinking about your hands. Hell I can’t even lay down without missing you. I thought maybe it was the pollen, but my body was only warm when I was around you over the last few days of traveling and being back. So I needed to figure it out, and I-I think I did.”
“It’s not the pollen.”
“No, it’s not,” you mumble, your hands coming together in front of you so you could play with them to distract yourself. “And I’m not sure what to do about it.”
“A talented tactician without a plan, I should be honored.” He’s teasing you, you know that, but you aren’t upset by it since it means that he’s not bothered by your admission. He’s still here with you, so you hoped that you had a chance to get what you felt you needed or at the very least he’d let you down gently. “It’s not the pollen for me, either.“
That wasn’t as helpful to hear as you thought it would be. You’re stopped in your tracks as you knew you would be, your eyes following his figure as he stands from his seat so he could stand in front of you. Your hands are stilled by his, and your body grows warmer with every passing second of eye contact that goes by without him saying anything as his thumbs move along your knuckles.
“I’m glad I haven’t upset you,” he finally says, and you find your smile returning as you nod.
“Considering I was going to ask if you wanted to spend more time together. This last venture of ours taught me that I can’t avoid my feelings any longer. Fate was going to keep putting you in front of me until I did something about it.”
“So now you’re doing something about it?”
“If you’ll let me.” The question is clear, and your answer is a confident nod that has him smiling behind his mask before one of his hands releases yours. Your eyes close when you see his fingers hook into his mask to pull it down, only to slowly open them when he tells you that he wants you to look at him. Considering the amount of times you’d had sex with him while on a mission, truly seeing his face shouldn’t have felt like such a heavy transgression. However you’re looking at him and he’s looking at you, a smile on his face he watches you take him in. And then his hands are on your cheeks, his lips meet yours, and you’re losing yourself in this man once more as he takes over your senses.
Hands start tugging and your vests and shirts are on the floor quickly. His hands move from your face to your hips, gently guiding you back towards your bed.
“You said you thought about my hands?” he asks, gently nudging your nose with his own as you sit on your bed. “What about them is so enticing to you?”
The question has your breath hitching in your throat, although you should have expected the question once you’d told him that you had been thinking about them. Your hand takes his wrist, pulling his hand from your hip and holding it in front of your face. Gently you work to remove the glove from his hand, pressing a kiss to the exposed palm. What wasn’t enticing about these hands? They were so big, fingers long and thick, he’d brought you close to tears multiple times just using his hand while you were on that mission.
“They’re wonderful,” is all you say at first, kissing each fingertip as your eyes meet his again. “Big and strong, fingers that stretch me so nicely but still so gentle.”
“They’re not soft, though.”
“They are to me,” you counter, bringing two of his fingertips into your mouth. This time it’s his breath that hitches, his other hand tugging at your pants to get them off of you. Your free hand pushes yourself up off the mattress to make things easier for him, keeping his fingers in your mouth as your tongue works to wet them the way you needed. You wanted him to touch you, he needed to be ready for that.
“So needy, and just for me, hm?” You nod around his fingers, kicking your pants off the rest of the way and scooting back on the mattress. He follows, sitting back on his heels but gently pushing you to lay on your back against your pillows.
“Show me,” he requests, looking at you as you prop yourself up on one of your elbows to look at him better. “Show me how you like to be touched, please. Then I’ll touch you as you want.”
The request has you nodding, reaching out and pressing two of your fingers to his lips. He opens them, and you watch with interest as he works to wet them for you. Much like everything else he did; he was diligent in treating your fingers with care and consideration, but teasing when he gave them a gentle bite as you withdrew them. Your eyes hold his as your fingers dip into the wetness that had gathered and slowly dragged them to your clit. Large hands settle on your thighs, keeping your legs open for him to kneel on the bed between them as you continue to circle the bud.
His eyes leave yours in favor of watching your fingers, and you let your eyes close knowing that his attention was elsewhere. You knew this wouldn’t be enough, since you had him here you’d need his fingers in addition to yours to be able to get off like this. Luckily for you, he must have been growing impatient and you felt one of his fingers trace along your spread folds before slowly probing your entrance.
“This is all for me?” he asks, his finger continuing to move within you and chuckling when he feels you clench around his finger. He knows the answer, but you still nod to give him the satisfaction of a response - a clear indicator that you did want him as much as he wanted you. A second finger joins the first, and his hand moves from your thigh to your hip to keep you from moving beneath him.
Your eyes meet his once again, struggling to keep still as his fingers work to ready you for a much larger intrusion. A whispered instruction has your fingers working against your clit again, trying to match the pace of your movements with the pace of his fingers but you find difficulty in trying to pay attention to his fingers when his hand leaves your hip to push at his pants. The sound of fabric rustling feels so loud in your ears, and you feel your heart rate increase knowing what’s to come as his fingers increase their pace and yours do the same against your clit.
“Come for me, darling,” he requests, curling his fingers and pressing repeatedly into that spot that has you seeing stars as your eyes close again and your fingers continue to work against the sensitive nerves. He’s coaxing you towards that edge with his fingers, his voice soft as he urges you to come and talks you through the waves of your orgasm.
“I really like your fingers a lot,” you breathe, relaxing into the mattress as his fingers leave you so he can get out of his pants. He only smiles at you, and you watch with interest as he fully undresses. You’d never seen him this undressed, even on the mission you were sure that he’d kept something on during your various encounters, so this was something you’d like to savor as you know you’re the only person alive to see all of Kakashi Hatake like this.
“I do like the way you look at me,” he comments, and you have only the moments as he gets into position above you to consider the sentiment behind his words. There’s so much you could say to that, plenty that you wanted to say - but the words get caught in your throat when that dark eye meets yours as he carefully pushes his length into you.
Your lips part as his hips press to yours, your hand coming to cradle his cheek to bring his forehead to yours. There are emotions in his eye that you dare not try to name, but you take solace in knowing that they’re there. That your feelings towards him are not only shared, but just as intense, and you’re not sure that either of you truly know what to do with them besides this.
“Romantic feelings and intimacy are not my strong suit,” he whispers as he pulls out, the smallest of groans leaving him as he thrusts back into you. “You’ll have to forgive me as I learn to be a decent man for you.”
“Shinobi are always training in some capacity anyways,” you murmur, smiling as he does. He doesn’t have a response to that, but you don’t need him to. You just need him here with you in this moment, thrusting into you so tenderly in the middle of your mattress. It’s a slow ascent to that bliss, every movement by your lover very calculated and telling you that he was trying to take his time with you with slow, deep thrusts that allowed you to feel every inch of him.
His hand removes yours from his face, lacing his fingers with yours and pressing your joined hands into the pillow beside your head. His forehead pressed to yours, your eyes stay on him as he lets his close. Your hand that wasn’t holding his moves to hold his cheek, bringing him in for a kiss as his movements falter slightly.
“Are you going to come for me again?” he asks, and you nod your confirmation. He pulls away from you, his hand bringing yours to where your bodies met. “Make yourself come for me. Show me how pretty you are when you come.”
You’re plenty wet, your fingers don’t need any assistance in gliding over your clit as Kakashi continues to thrust into you. His pace stays steady, his eye now watching your hand as your fingers move frantically against the bud. This was it, you were going to come again and he looked excited for that to happen.
His name leaves you in a wail, your hand gripping his forearm tightly as you let the feeling wash over you, only to let out a startled squeak when you feel him pull you up so that you were in his lap. You take a moment to reorient, placing one of your hands on his shoulder for balance, and your eyes meet his once more as his hand starts to guide your hips along his shaft.
“You’re crafty,” you mumble, and he smiles as he kisses you. A pace had been set, one you were barely able to keep up with but you knew Kakashi was close. There’s a tension in his shoulders that you can’t ignore, but you’re too far gone to be able to truly do something about it, especially with a third orgasm already creeping up so quickly behind the second. This man would most likely kill you; but all you can really do is whisper praises to him, making sure that he knew how good he was making you feel as his hips continued to rise up into yours.
“You can come for me one more time, can’t you? I’m sure you can,” his gentle urging has you nodding, your hand leaving his shoulder to go to your clit once more since that was what you knew would send you over the edge.
Your body stiffens as the pure heat in your core begins to wash over the rest of your senses, your free hand holding onto his bicep for dear life. Kakashi is speaking to you, praising you most likely, but you could only hear your heart pounding as he thrusts into you harder. His
hand gently pushes yours away from your clit, his fingers eagerly working at your over sensitive bundle to push you to that edge, you cradle the back of his head to keep his forehead connected to yours and maintain that eye contact you craved as you babbled your own string of praises to him as the pleasure overwhelms you and you’re coming on his length once more.
It feels as if time has slowed after that, you continue to cling onto Kakashi and you’re not sure if it’s been seconds or minutes, but it feels like too long yet not long enough before he’s coming deep inside you. You feel so interconnected with him that you’re not sure where his form ended and yours began, but you could probably stay like this for a lifetime with him.
“That was…” You start, but you’re not sure how to describe just how wonderful that was. Were there actually words that could describe how euphoric sex with Kakashi Hatake was?
“Yeah,” is all he can muster, lowering you back down onto your bedding. A kiss to your forehead is followed by a kiss on your lips, and he’s telling you that he’ll be right back before he stands from your bed.
You lay there quietly, trying to properly regulate your breathing in an effort to cool your body down. The question of “what now?” circulates through your brain, and you’re not sure what the answer was. You’d just had sex with Kakashi again, this time after admitting shared feelings. Did this mean you two were a couple now? Did Kakashi even want a label like that?
“What happens next?” you ask softly, watching as he re-emerges from your bathroom now wearing his shirt and mask.
“I think I should take you out on a proper date, for starters. Dinner tonight?”
“I’d rather stay in.” Your comment has him shaking his head as he joins you in your bed, pulling you into his chest as you grin up at him. “There’s plenty to eat here.”
Summary: While on a mission to deliver documents, you and Kakashi stop for the night in a place where you probably shouldn’t. Something in the air didn’t feel quite right, despite everything else feeling perfect. Cross posted to AO3
Word Count: 2.9k
Warnings: sex pollen, dub!con, f!receiving oral, blindfolds, fingering, unprotected sex, outdoor sex
Note: I was struck by Kakashi brain rot during my Naruto re-watch.
It was supposed to be a simple delivery task. There was a chance of enemy ninja, which made it not quite so simple as just delivering a couple pieces of paper. The nature of the documents required that two jounin be sent to take care of it. You didn’t know who the other jounin was, Tsunade said she had to do some reorganization of some squads to get you the backup you’d need since this document was now top priority over a couple reconnaissance and recovery missions.
It wasn’t your job to know what was in it that made it so important, but you were very interested in who your partner would be. Hopefully entertaining but at the very least could keep up conversation. It was a long journey to the Hidden Sand, to spend it in silence felt like a fate worse than death. Team compatibility could be what made the difference between a mission’s success and failure, after all.
“Oh, sorry I’m late.”
Kakashi? Oh this was going to be interesting, indeed.
“Helping an elderly woman with her shopping? At dawn?” you take your guess as his excuse, smile on your face as he rubs the back of his neck.
“Sure, let’s go with that. You have the cargo?”
You only pat your vest where the scroll was contained, and he nods before he suggests that you get going. And so you set out, being sure to act as casual as two shinobi heading out on a mission could. Nobody knew about the scroll, so it was imperative that you not act like you had anything that anybody else would want to see.
“We should probably think about camping somewhere or finding an inn to stay at for the night,” Kakashi suggests as the sun begins to set, and you nod before stopping to stand on a tree branch. “Which would you prefer?”
“Let’s get back on the road, and if we can’t find an inn by nightfall then we can set up camp.” At this time of year, it’d be dark in about forty-five minutes. Time wasn’t on your side if your hope was to sleep on a surface softer than your bedroll on the grass. Though there might have been an inn nearby, but you weren’t confident that you hadn’t passed it already due to how fast you and Kakashi had been moving.
For all your hoping, you’d been proven correct in your assumption that’d you’d passed the inn you’d been thinking of and that left you only moderately deflated as you turned off the main road with Kakashi to find a suitable campsite. Off the beaten path but flat was the goal, and you look through some tall shrubbery and smile when you see a clearing. It was really quite the scene with healthy grass, some flowers, and the river wasn’t too far away. The trees provided ample coverage, too, so it really did feel quite secluded. There was something in the air, too, something that put you at ease. You couldn’t put your finger on it, but you also knew that you needed to stay on your guard while on a mission even if the environment told you otherwise. Something about deception and things being too good to be true.
Kakashi offers to take the first watch, and you tuck yourself into your sleeping bag with hopes of getting some rest. Only it’s too warm, so you remove yourself from within the sleeping bag to instead lay on it in hopes that it’d be more comfortable. Only now it’s your vest that feels too heavy, so you sit up to remove it and take a moment to roll your shoulders. Kakashi was here, you were safe to lose that protective padding to get some sleep if that’s what it took.
“Are you alright?” He asks from his perch in the tree, and you look up to see that he’d been watching you. “You seem uncomfortable down there.”
“Does it feel hot to you, Kakashi?” you ask, almost tempted to pull your shirt off but knowing that wasn’t the wisest move you could make. But it was so hot and starting to rub you the wrong way so it needed to go. Sooner rather than later. “It’s so hot out here.”
“It’s a bit warm, yeah, but I’ve been trying to tune it out.” He’s kneeling in front of you now, pressing his wrist to your forehead. You can’t see the frown, but you hear it when he sighs before he tells you that you’re running a fever. “You’re just hot, though? Not nauseous or anything else?”
“I honestly felt fine until just now when I was trying to lay down.” But you’re acutely aware of the fact that he’s still got his wrist pressed to your forehead, and now there’s his other hand on your shoulder and contributing to the heat you felt. “But now I’m just hot, and my clothes feel wrong.”
“Does it feel heavy?”
“Kinda, just rubbing me the wrong way, y’know?”
“Yeah.” So he was feeling it too, and that both relieves you and horrifies you at the same time. What if your perfect campsite was just a massive trap? That’d be just fantastic if all this was your fault. “It’s not a genjutsu, and there are no chakra signatures anywhere near us either. It’s almost like there’s something in the air.”
Something in the air? That was what you had felt earlier, but that something wasn’t making you hot. Kakashi’s hands on you were not helping, but instead were contributing to a different type of heat in your core that was not easy to ignore either. Where was the light and easy feeling that you’d had previously? Where did that go?
“I have to get out of these clothes, Kakashi.” You hope you sound calm, like you know what you’re doing, but you couldn’t even really think straight.
“We have to get out of here, we’ll deal with our symptoms once we’re out of the hot zone.”
“I am the hot zone right now!”
“And we need to figure that out, but losing your cool is not going to help. We’re not going to go far, there’s another clearing nearby and I think we should be okay there. Let’s gather our things and move.” The instruction is clear and, despite how awful your clothes felt against your skin, you follow them without question. By the time you’ve settled in the new campsite you can’t stop yourself, taking your shirt off with your vest and laying back against the cool grass in hopes that it’ll help you relax - even just a little bit.
The air felt different here, sure, but you still felt too hot. A look to your left tells you that Kakashi was feeling the heat too, since he’d removed his vest and was trying to fan cool air onto his skin. There was another more obvious problem just south of the hem of his shirt, but you avert your gaze from your partner to keep from potentially making him uncomfortable.
“Doing okay?” he asks, and you shake your head since you were still feeling too hot even with your shirt being off and cool air hitting your skin.
“Still too hot, but I’m running out of layers,” you mumble, jumping nearly out of your skin when you feel his hand on your stomach. How he got there that fast was not a question you’d waste time on, since the man did train with Gai. What was more pressing was the physical contact he’d initiated, all he really needed to do was move that hand just a bit further south and you were certain that’d either fix everything and make the problem worse - but such was the shinobi way of life. “That’s not helping.”
“I thought not,” he mumbled, and you chance looking up at him only to feel yourself get so much warmer when you see him looking down at you. There’s something unfamiliar in his eye, and that has you equal parts excited and concerned at what that look could mean. “The air is different here, so we must have inhaled something back there.”
How was he still so functional? You couldn’t give a damn about what could have you feeling this way, there were more pressing matters such as your body feeling like it was on fire and the growing discomfort with how wet your underwear was getting.
“Please stop talking,” you whine, your hand grabbing his wrist. His pulse is racing beneath his skin, his thumb starting to move against your skin until you let out another whine at the contact. “But keep touching me.”
“You’re sure?”
“Only if you want to.”
He shakes his head, and you’re not sure what it is he’s trying to convey but you err on the safe side and release his wrist. You’re ready to sit yourself up, go hide behind a tree so you could rub this out and get it over with, but his hand stays firm on your stomach to keep you in place as he leans in to get close to your ear.
“We shouldn’t do this, but I can’t pull myself away from you when I’m like this and you’re so willing.”
If he wasn’t wearing that mask, you’d kiss him right now. But he is, and that brings you to let him go so you could move the placement of your headband so it’d cover your eyes. Kakashi had to be uncomfortable in the mask, this was how you could ensure that he could be more comfortable while you both were dealing with the side effects of whatever the hell you’d breathed in. You hear him sigh before his hand leaves your stomach, and you pick up on the rustling of his clothes before his mouth is on yours and his hand is pushing at the waistband of your pants. Your hand starts to move, but is quickly pinned into the grass by Kakashi’s other hand as he moves to straddle you.
“Please behave, I’m struggling to contain myself as it is.” The warning has you nodding, but your hips move of their own volition in an attempt to get some friction where you most need it. He pauses above you, then his hands are gone from you only to work at pulling your pants and underwear down.
Your mouth falls open when his fingers push between your folds, the fire burning inside sated by the contact that has you relaxing into the grass. You hadn’t realized just how large Kakashi’s hands were until he had two fingers inside of you working to stretch you open more, and you knew you’d be fixated on those hands long after this situation was over and dealt with. A bridge to be crossed later, if you remembered after all this was over and done with.
A forearm is pressed to your hip, those two fingers part your folds, and you sigh when his tongue slides through to lap at your essence while his thumb circles your already over-sensitive clit. Another orgasm comes and goes before you can process it, your hands moving to his hair to try and pull him away. Instead, his other hand comes to replace his tongue, two fingers pushing into your cunt easily while his thumb continues to play with your clit.
“Are you going to come already?” He sounds amused, but you can’t formulate the words that you need to tell him off or tell him that he was right. “You can come, it’s alright. Let me taste you.”
You’re going to blame your current state on the fact that you were able to come just by him telling you to, that truly had to be it. But he sounds pleased and you’re ready to cry when he continues to lick and suck at your quivering pussy until you’re practically begging him to pull back and fuck you proper. You just needed him to fill you now, fill you and keep you full and fuck the neediness out of you.
“Ask and you shall receive.” There’s more rustling, and you wish you could see what he was doing and how he was looking at you but the headband remains in place to keep your vision obscured.
The blunt tip of his cock coming to rest between your folds has your eyes closing behind the headband, your fingers digging into the soft soil beneath you as he presses forward and stretches you. There’s no time or consideration for adjustments, you’d wager that Kakashi’s patience has worn out given the situation, and you’re not complaining since this is what you needed.
“Just stay put,” he breathes into your ear, his hand taking yours and pressing it into the grass beside your head. He’s still moving his hips against yours even as he speaks, the heat and desperation radiating off of him in waves as he presses a kiss to your cheek before he gently bites at your jawline. “Stay put and let me take care of us, will you do that?”
You nod, your compliance earning you another kiss before he’s pulling out. Before you have the chance to complain, he’s turning you over and pulling your hips up so you’d be propped up on your knees in front of him before he’s pushing back into you. There was no gentleness, no careful consideration of the environment, this was Kakashi on a mission to get you both off and hopefully stop whatever had gotten you both so worked up. His hands grip your hips hard enough that you’re certain there would be ten little bruises decorating your skin later, and he muffles his own sounds of pleasure by biting into your shoulder, it hurts but in the best way possible as he fucks into you at a pace you could only describe as being brutal. There was no rhythm or thought to it, he needed to get off as badly as you did.
“You feel so good, y’know that?” he breathes into your ear, every other word punctuated by a grunt that has you weaker than the one before. There’s a new heat burning inside you, this one you knew how to cope with, and you move your hand so that you could rub at your clit only to hand Kakashi grab your hand and press it back into the ground. “I said stay put and let me take care of you. You need to come?”
You nod, your head falling forward into the grass when his fingers make contact with your clit. At this point you think your body may be too sensitive, and that has you arching back into him at the feeling of the rough pads of his fingers against the nerve bundle.
“Stop running from me.”
“Sensitive,” is all you can gasp out, fingers digging into the grass once again as Kakashi chuckles in your ear. “Please, I’m so close Kakashi.”
This time you stay put when his fingers graze your clit, and you feel all coherent thoughts leave you as your body continues to rock with his as his fingers begin rubbing quick circles while his thrusts increase in pace. All that mattered was him and your approaching orgasm, anything else would have to wait until you could breathe normally again. A thrust punctuated by a pinch to your clit has your body going rigid beneath his, and he’s talking you through the orgasm until his own hips stutter and he also stills.
An arm moves around your waist, bringing you with him when he moves to lay on his side. The headband is moved but you keep your eyes closed even though your back was to him, not wanting to chance seeing his face. Things felt a bit more clear, but now you weren’t sure where the source of the heat was coming from now - the unknown inhalant or the close proximity to Kakashi. The grass was helping, though, which told you it was likely Kakashi making you feel so warm.
“Feeling better?”
“Yeah, a bit,” you whisper, staying on your side while he lies on his back. “How come you were so functional? We were both exposed for the same amount of time?”
“My mask must have acted as a filter. I had it off to eat, though, which was likely where I got truly exposed.” You’re quiet after that, really trying to think about it but your critical thinking still wasn’t truly there. You’d give yourself a headache if you tried, you were sure, so you choose not to think about it for now. “Well I’m going to keep watch, you need your rest if we’re going to continue the mission.”
“What if it’s not fully out of our systems? Shouldn’t we go back to the village for treatment?” You’re sitting up now, still looking away since you weren’t sure if it was safe to look at him yet, but the cold air on your back does feel nice.
“I think we’ve established that we’re pretty decent at dealing with the side effects, no need to delay by going back to the village if we can handle it ourselves.” That has you looking at him, not at all caring about whether he was masked or not. He didn’t truly mean he’d fuck you all the way to the Sand Village if that was necessary, did he? “I think that’s the fun part, don’t you?”
This man was going to be the death of you, you were certain of that.
Summary: Bella Swan was a disaster when Edward had left. Deciding she needed a little help, Charlie Swan receives with open arms his younger daughter (Y/N) Swan. She helps Bella during her depression and becomes inseparable from her long-lost friend Jacob. What she didn’t expect was falling for a hotheaded short-tempered silver wolf.
A/N: this chapter is way longer than I thought it would be and all I'm saying about it is that the next couple of chapters are gonna be a shitshow 🤭🤭 Also, tried to keep the taglist as it was and to add people, but Tumblr won't let me post the chapter with how many there are.
TAGLIST CLOSED
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Not seeing Jacob for almost three weeks had not been as catastrophic as (Y/N) had thought it would be. It had been odd, she couldn’t lie. She had gotten used to seeing him at least once or twice in a week and coming home to an empty house had been unusual. Still, it had not sent her into the comatose whirlwind her sister had fallen into after her boyfriend had seemingly disappeared from the face of the earth.
Charlie hadn’t questioned it at first. Mostly because (Y/N) didn’t seem any different, and she still talked to someone on the phone most days. Nothing was amiss in the eyes of the household.
Until a switch flipped inside Bella. Halfway through (Y/N)’s Jacob detox, her older sister started to disappear a couple of times a week. She didn’t know where she was going or what she was doing, but she was happy that Bella seemed to be doing better. Whether it had been because of their father’s ultimatum or because she genuinely was starting to move on didn’t matter. (Y/N) was simply happy that her sister seemed content.
Her mind was also occupied with a certain boy and what he had done to make sure she was okay. In the days after the accident, he called her every morning and every night, reminding her to change her bandages and apply antibiotic ointment. He always asked how her bruise was doing and made sure she remembered to ice it every night. He had made her feel cared for, and he had made sure she knew that someone out there was watching out for her well-being.
The feelings that fluttered in (Y/N)’s heart were still unclear to her. She couldn’t deny the magnetism that pulled her toward Paul, and the more she got to know him, the more she understood her gravitation toward him. Just not what had spurred it on.
“Hey, (Y/N), I’m going out soon,” Bella called out. “I left some breakfast done in the microwave.”
“Where are you going?” (Y/N) asked, peering her head down the stairs.
“On a hike.”
“By yourself again?”
“Uh, yeah. I’m trying to get used to being there by myself again.”
“If you give me a couple of minutes to get ready, I could go with you. Make sure you don’t fall this time,” the younger girl offered. “I wouldn’t mind some sisterly bonding..”
“Uh, well... you know, maybe next time?” Bella stammered. “I’m kind of short on time, and I have a shift at Newton’s soon after.”
“Oh, that’s okay. Just be careful, then. Wouldn’t want another ER visit.”
“Right,” she chuckled dryly. “I’ll see you later, (Y/N).”
“Yeah. See you.”
Much like the past weeks, even if she was doing well, Bella seemed to be avoiding her sister. And it felt no different than when she wouldn’t speak at all. At least at that point, she would at least meet (Y/N)’s eyeline. It had sent her down a spiral as she wondered what she had done for her sister to spend as little time as she could with her.
But she had no time to dwell on her sister’s rejection. She didn’t want to. Instead, she packed a backpack full of art supplies –paints, brushes, and a canvas notebook. The items were coated with a layer of dust, left abandoned and untouched for many years.
(Y/N) had grown up loving everything artistic. It was a side Bella was not in tune with, and it had made her feel closer to her mother because of it. When they had been on the road, many a time did Renée and her youngest daughter stop by a creek or a clearing to paint the scenery before them. If they didn’t paint, they would prop up a couple of chairs and spend hours knitting or crocheting. Those were the moments she thought there would be a possibility that she and Bella could be on equal footing.
As she got ready to go, she realized there was no way she had no way of getting anywhere near the place she had in mind without a set of wheels. Her father had promised that as soon as he could, he would get her a car, but for the time being, she was stuck hitching rides with her sister to school and depending on others to drive her anywhere. She never realized how inconvenient it was to not have a car now that she was… single?
(Y/N) walked to the phone in the kitchen, dialed the number she had unknowingly memorized, and waited for a response. “Hey,” she smiled as the call was picked up. “Are you, by chance, doing anything right now?”
“Not really,” Paul said through the phone. “I should be doing homework, but I am up for anything that gets me out of it.”
“Well, if it’s not too much trouble, do you think you could pick me up? I was in the mood of painting in the woods, somewhere by the trailhead off the one-ten, but I have no way of getting there.”
“I’ll be there in ten.”
“Are you sure? I don’t want to bother you if you have something to do.”
“It’s absolutely no problem, (Y/N),” he said. “I’ll see you soon.”
After he hung up the phone, (Y/N) went ahead and finished packing the rest of the supplies she would need, as well as food and drinks for the trip. If she was going to make him make the trip to and from Forks, she could at least make it worth his while. In a lunchbox cooler, she placed the remaining slices of a cake she had made the week before, BLT sandwiches she quickly put together, and anything else she could find in the fridge and around the kitchen that would be good to snack on –crackers and cheese, some assorted vegetables and fruits, chips, and bottles of water and a couple of cans of soda.
By the time Paul reached her front door, she was carrying a full backpack on her back and a couple of bags in her arms. “Are you moving to the forest?” he chuckled the moment he saw her reaching for the heaviest ones. “I didn’t think this outing would be so life-changing.”
“Well, my things are on my back,” she explained. “The lunchbox is filled to the top with food and drinks, then that bag has a blanket and some other dry snacks. I might be forcing you to make this long trip, so I thought I would at least feed you in exchange.”
“You’re not forcing me to do anything,” Paul smiled softly. “But I appreciate the food. I may have also brought along some things to eat.”
“Great minds think alike, it seems,” she returned his grin. “Then, thank you for driving me. I’m sure there are a million other ways you would rather spend a Saturday.”
“Not really,” he shrugged as he opened the passenger door for (Y/N) after placing all of the bags in the back. “You honestly saved me from a very boring English paper on The Great Gatsby.”
“I actually read that book last year,” she added as Paul turned the truck on. “It’s really good once you get into the story.”
“How have you already read it? I thought you were a sophomore.”
“I didn’t read it for school,” she chuckled. “Surprisingly enough, you can read things without being graded on them and like them. It’s actually one of my favorites.”
“Then I guess I will just have to give it a fair chance,” he said. His eyes snapped to hers for a quick second before focusing on the road once more, and she couldn’t help the rush that it sent through her. “If it’s one of your favorites, then it must have some type of redeeming quality.”
“I’m sure you’ll like it,” (Y/N) smiled. “As long as you give it a chance.”
As soon as they reached the end of the dirt road that took them to the trailhead, Paul took hold of all of the bags before opening the door for (Y/N) and helping her out. And the second she went for a bag, he started walking.
“I just want to help carry something,” she called out with a chuckle as he put distance between them. “I brought most of the things.”
“Why would you have to carry anything when I’m right here?”
“Because I want to help.”
“You’d have to catch up to me to do that,” he smirked, walking backward through the trail. “Which is impossible, so I guess I’m carrying the bags.”
“I don’t even know where we should go,” she laughed, taking off in a small trot to reach him. “This is as far as I thought.”
“Good thing you have the best guide then. I’m as good at moving through the woods as I am at carrying bags.”
“Lead the way then,” (Y/N) smiled.
Paul allowed (Y/N) to catch up to him once she renounced the idea of carrying anything. She followed every step he made, wondering what destination he had in mind. The last time she had even come close to being in the midst of the trees of Washington had been when she was a child. Too many times, little (Y/N), Bella, and the Black children would escape to the woods even when Billy and Charlie had warned them many times not to.
Those were the moments she missed the most. When the only thing they were worried about was having fun and keeping their escapades from their parents. There were no complicated feelings or uncertainty in their relationships. There was no confusion or pain. No ill will or misguided intentions. They were just kids trying their best to make the most out of their summer.
When Paul finally came to a stop, (Y/N) felt a sense that she had been in that very spot before. From the rays that peeked through the treetops that reached each other to create a covering to the flat expanse of grass; from the quiet pond to the rocks that bordered its shore. She could bet almost everything she had on the fact that, if she hadn’t been there, she had seen it before.
“This is perfect,” she found herself muttering. “How did you know about this place?”
“I told you I was the best guide for these woods,” he smirked. “I know all of the best spots in these woods.”
They settled close to the pond, one of the only places the sun shined onto. In the cold of February, the warmth made that place that much more perfect. She straightened the blanket onto the ground, setting the food in one corner and the paint supplies in another, leaving the center empty for them.
(Y/N) sat first, pulling item after item from her backpack, setting them in between her and where Paul sat after. He watched her every move, curiosity filling his eyes. Especially as she handed him a piece of canvas paper and a set of brushes.
“What am I supposed to do with this?” he asked as he eyed the items in his hands. “I can’t paint.”
“You don’t have to know how to paint to just have fun painting,” she offered. “But you don’t have to if you don’t want to. I just get very quiet and in my own head when I paint, so I thought it’d be good for you to have something to do while I basically disappear for a while.”
“I’ll give it a try then,” Paul smiled, taking back the items (Y/N) had reached for. “But you have to promise you won’t laugh at it.”
“I promise.”
The younger Swan had not been lying when she said she got quiet. As soon as her brush hit the canvas and she felt inspiration rush through her, it was as though she was by herself. Her hand moved before thoughts could fill her head. She couldn’t see or hear anything but what was coming to life in front of her. Stroke after stroke, color after color, her painting was the only thing she could think of.
Before (Y/N) knew it, an hour and a half had passed, and her painting was done. As she slowly came back into the present, she looked up for the first time since she had sat down. Paul was staring at her with something in his eyes that was there every time he looked at her. Even if she didn’t know what it was, she knew that it made her feel good.
“Hi there,” he said with a slight chuckle. “You weren’t kidding when you said you’d disappear.”
“Oh, sorry,” she said, growing red with embarrassment. “Have you been waiting long?”
“Nah, you’re good. It was honestly fascinating,” Paul smiled. His brown eyes looked like they were on fire under the orange sun, drawing her in like nothing ever before. “What were you working on?”
“Show me what you did first,” (Y/N) responded, shielding the canvas from his line of sight.
“It will definitely not be as good,” he frowned. “I was not blessed with this kind of artistic talent.”
“I’m sure it’s not that bad. Show me.”
He turned his canvas paper slowly, revealing a painting that was amateurish at its best but still adorable. It seemed he had drawn the view before him. A striking blue pond with vibrant green grass, fluffy trees that met by their branches with thick dark trunks, and what seemed to be the shape of a girl looking down at a piece of paper. Anyone would have thought that a child had done it, but it made (Y/N) smile so hard it made her cheeks hurt.
“Please don’t laugh,” he said sheepishly. “I told you I’m not good at this.”
“No, it’s cute. I love it. I don’t know how, but it’s very you.”
“Very me? You mean painfully childish?”
“Oh god, no!” (Y/N) quickly corrected. “It’s fun, it’s vibrant, it’s… it’s present. Sure, I can tell it’s by a beginner, but it still speaks to the way you view the world. And it’s beautiful.”
“Woah, well, I never thought of it that way. Much less that you could say so much of such a basis painting.” A smile spread across his face as he looked at his work with different eyes. They were kinder now, appreciative of the art he had made. “Now, let’s see yours.”
Once he asked again, she turned the notebook, careful not to smear whatever parts were still wet. Paul’s eyes opened big, and his mouth fell open in amazement. On the sheet, a dark grey wolf howled back at him. Its fur was completed with a mix of yellows and oranges to give it dimension, and its head was raised to the sky as it called out. She didn’t know how she had such a vivid image of a wolf in her mind, but she loved how it had turned out.
“Holy shit, that’s amazing!” Paul exclaimed as he took the notebook to inspect the art closer. “I knew you could paint, but I didn’t know you could paint like a professional.”
“I would hardly call myself a professional,” (Y/N) smiled. “And it’s been years since I’ve actually painted anything. But weirdly enough, I have been able to get the image of this wolf out of my head since I got to Forks.”
“That is weird,” he coughed awkwardly. “But it’s a beautiful painting, (Y/N).”
“Keep it,” she offered. “I will probably paint many more if it’s the only source of inspiration I’ve gotten in a long time.”
“I couldn’t. It’s your work.”
“And I want you to have it,” she insisted. “Please.”
“You’re twisting my hand, but fine,” he said with fake nonchalance. “It’s really good, though, (Y/N). You’re really talented.”
“Thank you, Paul. I’m just glad it’s something that ties me to my mother.”
“What do you mean?”
(Y/N) sighed before she answered. It was a topic she had never brought up to anyone. She had never felt like she could. Not to anyone close to her, at least. “I don’t know,” she breathed. “I guess I’ve always felt like I’ve needed to fight for people’s attention. Especially my parents. Everyone just seems to gravitate toward Bella, and I’m always left in her shadow. As we grew older, I found anything artistic came easy to me, and it’s one of the only things I have over my sister.
“And I know it sounds bad, but it made me feel good that she was bad at it. My mom would always go through some moments when all she wanted to do was paint or knit or whatever, and she’d always look for me when that happened. So, I made sure I would always practice so that she would keep asking me to join her.” (Y/N) could feel tears prickling in her eyes, threatening to spill as she finally said out loud what she had been keeping inside for years. Her head fell as she stared at her fingers, her attention falling on a little piece of skin that had lifted on her thumb. “With my dad, it’s a bit more difficult though. I feel like we get along well, but right now, he’s worried about Bella, and that takes up a lot of space in his mind. And somehow, I just keep falling through the cracks.”
“You should never have to beg for anyone’s attention, (Y/N),” Paul said, wiping away a tear she had not felt fall. “Have you ever told them about this?”
“No,” she answered sheepishly. “And right now, it’s not the best time. Bella seems to be getting better, and I wouldn’t want to jeopardize it.”
“But…”
“It’s okay, Paul. Really. I’m used to it by now,” she smiled as she dismissed the topic. “Now, let’s open up that lunchbox. I’m getting kind of hungry.”
She handed Paul one of the sandwiches as she placed the rest of the food and drinks between them. Not many words were exchanged between them as they ate, the boy downing most of the items at a surprising speed.
“So, tell me about your Great Gatsby assignment,” (Y/N) said, breaking the silence. “Maybe I could help you with it.”
“Well, I’m supposed to pick a central theme in the book and write how it’s presented in the story. But I’ve only gotten as far as the cover page, and the paper is due Monday.”
“Paul! You should be at home working on it! You made it sound like you had a lot more time to finish it.”
“Eh, it doesn’t really matter.”
“Okay, well, I could tell you one of my favorite themes. But I don’t know how interested you’ll be in writing about it.”
“Can’t be any worse than I already have,” he shrugged. “So, go ahead. Tell me about The Great Gatsby.”
“Well, I’ve always found the use of love and romance in the book very interesting,” she started, setting her food down on her lap as she got into what she was saying. “There’s this big debate on whether Daisy actually loved Gatsby, but I don’t think that’s the right question. What we are looking for in the story is whether Daisy loves Gatsby more than she loves wealth and status. Which, spoiler alert, she does not. Regardless of how Tom treats her, she stays with him because of what he can give her. She may have been infatuated with Gatsby, but the second something better came along, she forgot all about him. Until he shows up with money, and suddenly he’s at the top of her list. But new money can never be as strong as old money.
“Now, there’s the question of whether Gatsby is in love with Daisy, which is a completely different side of the same coin,” (Y/N) continued, settling more into her position. “I would say he isn’t. He is in love with this idea of Daisy that she simply is not. She’s cold and materialistic, and she’s only driven by what others can give her. She wants an easy life that she knows she will never get from Gatsby. Sure, he would never hurt her or cheat on her like Tom has, but she can never part with the simplicity she gets by staying with Tom. The Great Gatsby is painted as this unfortunate romance, filled with forbidden love and circumstantial obstacles, but truly it’s about a cunning woman that loves money and excitement more than she loves the men in her life.”
At that moment, (Y/N) didn’t note the irony of the story and how closely it related to her own situation. She didn’t feel like a Gatsby or a Daisy, much less did she see how she had her own version of Tom. But Paul drank each of her words like they were honey spilling from her lips. Not because he particularly cared about the story but because she loved it.
“You know what, you’ve actually convinced me to read the book,” he smiled before taking the last bite of his sandwich. “Don’t know if I’ll finish it by Monday, but I will definitely try.”
(Y/N) couldn’t help but laugh as a dollop of mayonnaise smeared on his cheek. She tried to point out where it was, but his comically outstretched tongue could not get to where it was. “Here,” she chuckled. She pulled a napkin out of the bag and wiped away the stain as they laughed. “Much bet…”
Suddenly, a rustling startled them, followed by laughter. For a moment, (Y/N) had forgotten that she was in the middle of the woods and that anyone could walk by at any moment. The pair got up on their feet, cautiously following where the sound came from while shielding themselves from view. But nothing could have prepared her for what she was about to see.
Bella and Jacob were coming down the trail, walking side by side as they talked and laughed. They had no idea they were being watched at that moment, and they were acting as much. Jake offered Bella his arm after she buckled in her step, and she gladly took it. And all she could think of was how that should have been her; that Bella should not have been the one to be holding onto Jake.
At that point, (Y/N) couldn’t hold her tears back anymore. It seemed that Jacob had decided that their relationship was over, and he was gladly moving on with the person that was closest to her. It made her heart wrench inside of her chest, shattering whatever hope still remained inside her. She didn’t know when it had happened, but her knees gave up on her, and she could only stay up by the hold Paul had on her.
But she couldn’t blame her sister. Not entirely, at least. (Y/N) hadn’t confided in her sister about any of the problems she’d had with Jake, and they had been friends long before (Y/N) had come back to Forks. Still, she couldn’t help but feel betrayed by the fact that her sister would lie to her about spending time with her boyfriend—ex-boyfriend?
Paul made a move to walk toward them, possibly to try and confront them, but (Y/N) stopped him, pleading with her eyes to wait until they were gone. “Why didn’t you let me go after them?” the boy asked the second the others were out of view. “Don’t you want to know why he’s been avoiding you and why the hell your sister is with him?”
“It doesn’t matter,” she sniffled. “Jake made it clear that he didn’t want to be with me if I couldn’t get Embry to leave you guys, and he’s just making good on his promise. And Bella doesn’t even know about all of that. He definitely didn’t tell her.”
“Then, why didn’t you expose him to her? Don’t you want her to know what he did?”
“(Y/N)…”
“Just take me home, please?” she asked. Her eyes were filling with new tears, and her lips quivered as she tried with all her might not to let them fall. “I just want to go home.”
“Alright,” Paul conceded.
They packed everything in silence, the air around them shifting and thickening. Long gone was the comfortable sunny day, now replaced with a coldness that seeped through their bones. All (Y/N) wanted now was to go back home and sink into her bed sheets. Seeing Jacob and Bella together had hurt her a lot more than not seeing him at all.
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