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eddiemunsonw · 3 months

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Snow Storm

Steve Harrington x Fem!reader

Summary: You're on a 'date'. Sort of. You're really not feeling it, especially when you realize that the guy has been lying. Steve, witnessing it all during his shift at Family Video, is more than happy to meddle a little.

CW/Disclaimer: Hmmmm things start to get a little heated and sexy but nothing too dramatic. So... idk. Mention of porn?

Author's note: I have a tendency to post fics out of their season, it seems

Words: 3435

Steve’s POV

He watched as your eyes followed the section of horror movies slowly, scanning each title to try and remember if you had seen them before. Next to you, a guy stood impatiently as he eyed the curtain that separated the adult section. Steve watched with interest, as it was all that was currently happening in the store apart from a regular who looked into the slapstick classics on the other side.

“Come on, I just wanna see.”

The guy sighed, nudged you with his arm. You were having none of it and Steve couldn’t help but wear an amused smile. Eventually, when you had picked out two movies, you followed him towards the curtain. Steve, feeling particularly menacing today, quickly left the counter and approached the curtain just in time.

“Hello there! ID’s please.”

He held his hand open and you took it out immediately, showing that you were 23, a year younger than he was. When the guy handed it over with some reluctance, his curiosity piqued.

“Oof, sorry dude, can’t let you in. It’s 21+”

“What? Since when?” the guy responded, but Steve clocked something much more interesting.

“Clark… You said you were 24. Jesus this is why I never wanna say my age first,” you groaned and rolled your eyes. Steve bit down on his lip to stop himself from smiling, but it was too hard not to.

“Damn, why’d you have to lie to the lady? That’s not cool,” Steve added on.

Your POV

“You weren’t supposed to know. Now come on,” Clark mumbled and attempted to pass the curtain but Steve quickly moved in between, the smooth glide of his body grabbing your attention.

“Still a no, Bud.”

You were already tired of his pushy behavior earlier, so while Steve had him occupied, you entered the adult section. You didn’t even want to go in there, but it was better than staying.

“Grab some deepthroating! And some lesbian porn?”

Steve’s POV

Steve shook his head at him as he leaned against the wall right next to the curtain.

“Jesus, dude. Are you trying to make her run away from you even harder?”

“Shut up,” Clark grumbled, side eyeing him with annoyance.

“Hm, no,” Steve said, a small smile on his face. “Not for a pipsqueak like you.”

“Oh fuck off, says the failed jock whose daddy no longer funds him so he has to do a shitty job like this one, the highlight of his day being to be a total asshole to a guy trying to have sex with a girl.”

Steve stared ahead of him, taking a deep inhale before replying.

“Yeah. Sure. That’s a neat description of you and me both. Emphasis on the trying.”

“The day’s not over yet.”

“Oh but it is, pipsqueak. Cause you’re gonna turn around and leave now.”

They looked at each other, eyes dark and challenging. Steve wasn’t sure what came over him. He just knew that he needed to do you the favor of getting rid of him.

“The hell I am,” Clark bristled.

Steve chuckled darkly. Woah, when did he become this super villain huh? Hmm. Interesting.

“Oh you are. She wants you gone and so do I.”

“You don’t know shit about what she wants.”

“Let me go ask,” Steve said as his hand lazily slid the curtain aside. “What’s her name again?” he asked, pretending like he hadn’t checked your name on your ID. He didn’t wait for his answer and walked behind the curtain despite his protests. This, however, made him miss out on the emergency alert on the radio.

“We interrupt your favorite tunes for an important message. The blizzard is getting worse. If you haven’t yet, go home. Chances are you won’t be able to if you wait much longer.”

Clark, however, did. Besides, he wasn’t that much of an idiot. He knew he had lost his chances with you the moment he tried to get you to grab his favorite porn videos. Whatever.

Your POV

“So… see anything you like?”

His voice startled you, but at the same time it was met with relief from your end that it wasn’t Clark. Steve slowly walked closer and quickly noticed you didn’t seem interested in any of it in the slightest and chuckled.

“Or are you just planning to stay here forever until he leaves?”

You shrugged.

“Something like that. Also, you don’t just ask a lady about her favorite porn, Harrington.”

Delighted by your response, he cocked his hip against the wall as he crossed his arms with a grin.

“I mean… we both already know Clark’s…” Steve said jokingly, earning a smile from you.

“All men are the same,” you sighed. Steve pouted and scanned the titles for something interesting.

“You say that now but… wait until you find out that my favorite is actually… Granny getting a— nope, nope, forget I started that sentence,” Steve said quickly as he put back the tape he just had in his hands.

“All the grannies over the world are crying right now,” you said sadly, a smile on your lips.

“Too bad, I’ve set my eye on girls who actually are the age they say they are.”

“I’ll admit that’s the most interesting belated opening line I’ve ever heard,” you said dryly.

“As long as it catches your intrigue, I’m satisfied,” Steve said with a playful, cocky grin.

You grabbed a tape and smirked, holding it out for him.

“So I’m guessing you don’t need yourself a… Satisfyer 2.0, then?” You asked, holding up the tape which had sensual “instructions” for a vibrator.

Steve laughed and shook his head.

“These satisfy just fine,” Steve said, holding up his hands. Your mind drifted off to what he could do with those big hands. Not just to himself but to—

“… left?”

Steve had apparently just asked you a question.

“Huh?”

He smirked and nodded towards the curtain.

“I think he left. Just heard the bell above the door.”

“Maybe someone came in though…” you wondered out loud.

“Maybe. I’ll go check.” He spun on his heel and approached the curtain when—

“Wait—” It was out before you knew it. Steve halted, turned back around and looked at you patiently.

“Yeah?”

“If he is in fact not gone, can you… get rid of him somehow? I normally wouldn’t ask but he’s just such a—”

“Dick.”

“Yeah…” You smiled a small smile and watched as he approached you again. His eyes were on you, taking in even the smallest changes in your expression.

“So is he like… your boyfriend?” Steve asked softly. “Or uh, was?”

You chuckled and shook your head.

“Nah, this was the second date which I had reluctantly agreed to.”

“Why’d you say yes?” Steve asked curiously. He followed your movement as you skimmed some more tapes and smiled at the playfully quipped corner of your mouth. “I mean, it didn’t look like you wanted to be here.”

“I didn’t. I just… I kind of never said yes but he just showed up on my doorstep and then I felt too bad to not go with him, so… yeah. Didn’t know he had plans to rent some porn and spend the second date in his bedroom or whatever.”

Steve crossed his arms and nodded thoughtfully.

“Hmmh… yeah that sucks. Well, I’ll make sure there won’t be a next time,” he said as he shortly winked at you and once again turned on his heel, this time actually continuing his walk through the curtain. He was out there for a few minutes when he turned back with a frown.

“Uh… Y/N? We’ve got a little… hiccup.”

You approached him with a frown of your own and followed him to the front, unsure what to expect. What you certainly didn’t expect, was to see a snow storm going on outside.

“Apparently there’s a code red. Just heard a repeat of it on the radio but it keeps breaking up. They urge everyone to stay inside until it’s over.”

Steve stuffed his hands into his pockets and stared ahead. It was the worst storm he had ever witnessed and the fact that nothing had seemed to be going on apart from some gentle snowfall surprised him.

“Stay… here?” you asked eventually.

“I mean, yeah? You can’t drive in this weather, it’s too dangerous. So is walking. So…”

“But I can’t just…”

“Hey, I don’t bite,” Steve said softly, nudging your arm with his own. “Besides, Clark seems to have left after all. Maybe he heard the warning and decided to bolt? If so, very nice to let us know as well but I will say that I wasn’t nice to him, so…”

You smirked.

“What did you say to him?”

“Nothing, nothing. I mean, genuinely, I didn’t say much. Just that he had to fuck off, using different wording. He didn’t seem all that ready to leave when I went to look for you though.”

“Oh well, good riddance.”

“Agreed.”

Steve walked forward and locked the door, putting the closed sign up front just in case.

“Let’s go to the back, it’s warmer there. And there’s a coffee machine.”

And so your “Stuck at Family Video with heartthrob Steve Harrington” began.

Once you were settled around the table in the break room, Steve gave you an odd glance. It was hard to figure out what he meant by it, although his frown disappeared the moment he got up from his chair.

“Coffee? Tea? I think we even got a few of those instant hot choc packages,” he offered, his back already turned to you as he searched the cabinets.

“Oh, hot chocolate sounds nice actually. Is it just me or is it… still kinda cold, even here?” you asked hesitantly. Steve nodded ruefully and grabbed two mugs from the cabinet he was currently facing.

“Ah, yeah… it looks like the heating is struggling again. I could kick it to see if it helps but… chances are it’ll get worse.”

“How could it get worse?”

Steve shrugged.

“Beats me, but I’m speaking from experience. Sometimes it does the trick and other times it really, really doesn’t.”

“Let’s not risk it then. At least we have a warm drink, right?”

Steve nodded and grabbed the kettle. You watched him busy himself with putting it on, emptying the hot chocolate powder and grabbing two spoons. He was humming along softly to whichever song he seemed to have stuck in his head and shot you a smile when he caught you looking.

“So what do you usually—”

Suddenly, the room turned pitch dark. You heard Steve swear softly when he shuffled back towards the table and bumped into a chair.

“Uh… okay. That’s… kind of a problem,” he mumbled as he managed to sit back down. “No hot choc I guess, sorry. No… heating either. Maybe we should check how the weather’s doing?” he opted.

“Yeah, sure.”

There was a small strip of light seeping in from the doorway, slowly turning brighter as you adjusted to your surroundings again. Warm fingers teased your arm before your wrist was grabbed and Steve helped you up. As he opened the door, the brightness of the snow outside was almost blinding. The thin windows made it a lot colder at the front, making you shiver as you watched the outside. It wasn’t just snow anymore, as heavy hail rained down, large enough to leave dents into cars. Steve groaned and let go of your wrist.

“Let me check if I can get the power back on,” he mumbled, more to himself than to you. He grabbed a flashlight from below the counter and went to the back again. After a few minutes, he returned, looking apologetic.

“Sorry, nothing. I guess it’s my fault you’re stuck here, huh?” he sighed. “If I hadn’t bothered Clark as much you’d be on your way already. Or if I just… I don’t know. Sorry, I guess.”

“It’s not your fault the weather decided to fuck us over, Steve,” you said with a soft smile which he returned with some hesitance. “What do you usually do for fun around here?”

Steve gave you a wry smile.

“Watch movies?”

“Ah, yeah.”

There was a short silence until Steve clapped in his hands and rubbed them together. “I’ve got this huge blanket in the back, brought it here once because Rob, Robin, my colleague, gets very cold easily so sometimes we’d just huddle under the blanket during breaks and stuff. I think we might as well sit out here, at least it’s light… for now.”

You nodded, smiling as you thought of Robin Buckley. You knew her of course. Not super well, but well enough to know she was nice.

“Yeah, it’s already getting dark, huh? A blanket sounds good though.”

Steve nodded and once again disappeared for a short moment, until he returned with a bright blue blanket, which he partially draped on the floor in front of the counter before he motioned for you to sit down and wrapped it around your shoulders. He joined you after grabbing you both some water and put the other end around his shoulders once he settled down.

“How’s this?”

You were really trying not to let it get to you that you were cozying up to Steve right now. Heat was radiating off of him and it made you wonder if he was actually cold, or if he was basically doing the whole “it’s better to stick together for body warmth” kind of thing. With the addition of clothes, of course.

“It’s nice. Better than without for sure,” you told him softly. Steve’s shoulder brushed yours and soon enough you felt the pressure build up until he was actually resting against you. Not in an uncomfortable way at all. It was really… nice, actually.

“Your parents? Do you think they’ll worry?”

“Ah, no. My mom’s visiting my grandma in another state actually and my dad’s no longer around, so. Doubt he can worry,” you joked lightly. “What about yours?”

Steve snorted, then realized it probably wasn’t all that funny and shrugged.

“Dunno, they’re somewhere in Europe now, I think? So no.”

Another silence. It was by that point that you remembered how little you actually knew about Steve Harrington. Sure, he had been popular in school for some time, and then he wasn’t, and then he graduated. But you had never really talked to him other than giving him a pen or two in English class. You were from different social ladders, really. Although, right now you felt quite equal to him, somehow. Which felt weird, considering he looked like a freshly cut out of a painting model and you were… you. Mr handsome decided to steal you away from your brain, which honestly, was a good thing.

“Hey, wanna play a game?” he asked, peering into your eyes as he leaned forward a little. You watched him with newfound curiosity.

“What kind of game?”

“I spy with my little eye.”

“Isn’t that just called “I spy”?” you wondered aloud.

“Dunno. So. Yes?”

“What else is there, right?”

Steve grinned and rested his head against the counter.

“That’s right. Okay. I spy with my little eye… something green.”

“That tape,” you said as you pointed. Steve leaned into your space, following your hand.

“Which one?”

“The green one.”

“There are maaaany green ones.”

“The green one with… Fuck I can’t read,” you sighed as you tried to squint. Steve laughed warmly, which you could feel the tremble of against your shoulder. “Okay so. The sci-fi shelf, yes? Fifth on the second row.”

“Aaaah, I see it now. Nope!”

“You knew that wasn’t it from the start.”

“I had to make sure.”

“Mhm, sure.”

Steve grinned and nudged you with his shoulder before tapping your thigh with his hand.

“Your turn, your turn!”

He left his hand on your thigh. Oh shit. Yeah, you were totally normal about that. You could still think. You could definitely still find some kind of object that you could use—

“Wait, I didn’t even guess it, how is it my turn?!” you questioned. Steve, who had been looking at… somewhere that wasn’t your eyes, quickly lifted his eyes to meet yours and grinned.

“Right. Guess!” “Your vest?”

“You are absolutely right. See? Your turn.”

“It wasn’t— okay. Hm… I spy with my little eye… something red.”

“Your cheeks.”

“Shut up, my cheeks aren’t red.”

“They are a little.”

“If you keep talking about it, yes, they will turn red.”

“Oh? Is that so?”

Once again Steve leaned forward to look you straight in the eye, this time lifting a hand to cup your cheek gently. “Hm, they’re a little pink at the very least.”

You could feel the heat rising to your cheeks and took his hand off your cheek as you looked away. Steve chuckled softly and turned his hand around so he could grab yours.

“Fine, then… the bike outside?”

“Nope.”

“Damn, I thought that was it for sure. That red blob of paint that Keith never managed to get off the ceiling?”

“That’s it!”

Steve grinned at you and gave your hand a squeeze. For a moment you had forgotten about his hand, too drunk on his animated face. Fuck.

“I spy with my little eye…” Steve turned his head to look at you and smiled. “Something pretty.”

“What?”

“Purple! Purple.”

“My shirt.”

“So clever.”

It was getting darker rapidly and soon enough, even your little game became harder to play. You did some other ones, word games, guessing games, whatever you could think of. The blanket was wrapped closer around you both now, as the store became colder without the heating. You sat hip to hip, your arms a little awkward sometimes although neither of you really minded.

“Would you have stayed here if I hadn’t been around?” you asked softly.

“Hmm, nah, I don’t think so.”

“Why?”

“Because I don’t really care if— I mean, I’d only be risking myself in that case.”

“That’s a bad reason. You’re just as important.”

“Am I?” Steve asked, and for some reason you felt like he needed an honest answer.

“Yeah, you are, Steve.”

“Hm…” A beat of silence. “I spy with my little eye… someone pretty.”

“You can’t even see.”

“I’ve memorized her by now.”

“Is it the blonde babe cardboard cutout?”

Steve, not expecting that answer at all, burst out laughing.

“Fuck, no,” a giggle, “it wasn’t.”

“Oh… hm. What about that girl from the ring? Samara?”

“Shush.”

“Or the woman from that movie where—” “Ssshh.”

You felt his hand cup your cheek and it was as if your heart was gonna jump out of your chest at any moment now. His breath tickled your cheek, warm and comfortable against your cold nose. Your lips parted on their own, eyes closing even though there was only an outline of his face to see.

“You sure it’s not the blond babe?” you murmured teasingly.

Steve giggled softly and shook his head, causing the stray strands of his hair to tickle you a little.

“Positive.”

A faint sound of lips being licked, and then his lips brushed against yours. Soft and pliable, eager to taste yours. He hummed softly, pleased, as he pulled you closer. You were easily pulled into his lap as his tongue teased your bottom lip for access. Hands smoothed up and down your waist, the blanket forgotten as your kiss provided enough heat between the two of you. It was silent, save from the gasps and soft, pleasant hums leaving you both. He gently moved his hips while simultaneously guiding yours, a gentle moan leaving him as he found a rhythm. His lips found your neck and your hand made its way into his hair to have something to grasp onto. One hand found the hem of your shirt and he was about to lift it up when—

Brightness. Light. The electricity was back on. Meaning… everyone outside could see you. If there had been anyone, that is. Still, it broke the moment instantly as Steve dropped his hand to your thigh and looked up at you.

“Shit,” he murmured, a lopsided grin on his face. “They really know how to spoil the fun today, huh?”

You smiled down at him and turned around to look outside, one hand resting on his chest for balance.

“Hm… I don’t know. It seems safe to go back home.”

Steve dug his fingers into your hips with eagerness before leaving a soft kiss on your lips.

“Your place or mine?”

end.

If you enjoyed reading this, please know that comments and reblogs are highly appreciated :) Likes are lovely but sadly do nothing to spread the fics around! Help your favorite writers (not saying me - in general) out like that so you can continue to enjoy consuming the free work they put out, it's a win-win.

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x fem!reader #stranger things fanfics #joe keery #i'm so great at promoting my fics with a cool description #not

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vampsywrites · 10 months

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V — i remember her hands, and the way the mountains looked.

Synopsis: In which the Sullys approach the mountain clan for sanctuary. The Olo'eykte agrees but proposes one condition: Toruk Makto's eldest son must be promised to her daughter. Surprisingly, instead of the solemn response one would expect, Neteyam agrees almost instantaneously.

Tags: Female! Mountain Na'vi! Reader, Arranged Marriage, Strangers to Lovers, Neteyam is whipped, Fighting, Mentions of blood, Mentions of Injuries, Graphic Violence and Wounds, Suggestive, It gets steamy at the end!

Word Count: 11k | AO3 LINK

< PREV | SERIES MASTERLIST | NEXT (soon) >

Weaving the thread under a loop, Neteyam meticulously fastened the neckpiece off and then carefully cut the excess string with his blade. As he held it up to the light, giving it an experimental stretch, the embedded crystals and gems sparkled and glinted beneath the warm honeyed glow of the rising sun, creating a mesmerizing dance of colors.

"Do you think she will like it?" Neteyam asked for what seemed like the hundredth time, his fingers still fiddling around with his work, and his eyes micro-analyzing every stitch and bead.

With a groan, Lo'ak ran a hand down his face.

Exasperated, he turned to Neteyam. "How many times are you going to ask me that? Did you not hear my answer last time? It looks fine."

Ignoring his brother, Neteyam stayed focused on the neckpiece.

"What if she doesn't appreciate Omatikayan weaving?" Neteyam bit his lip, a rugged hand nervously tugging at his braids. "I should have asked her opinion on it… What if these gems aren't the right color for her?"

"Bro, calm down," Lo'ak said, shaking his head. He reached over to gently grab the woven necklace away from Neteyam's fiddling hands, holding it up to examine the intricate detailing more closely.

Neteyam had dedicated the past three months to creating this special gift, pouring his heart and soul into every thread and gemstone. The pattern he had chosen was one only the most skilled weavers of their clan attempted, and Neteyam had executed it flawlessly.

There was not a single sign of a mistake, and the weaving flowed seamlessly, like a river meandering through a pristine forest. The beads adorned the piece like shimmering stars against the sky, their brilliance accentuated by Neteyam's careful polishing. Even to Lo'ak's untrained eye, he could recognize the skill and effort poured into the creation.

"Golden boy and his perfect weaving," Lo'ak whistled, smirking when Neteyam grumbled under his breath from the nickname.

Carefully, he handed the woven neckpiece back to his older brother. "Don't worry. She'll love it."

"Love what?"

As the silhouette of their father loomed over the hut, Neteyam glanced up, surprised by the unexpected visit. Jake stepped into the hut, parting the curtains to the side, and the warm light from the rising sun spilled into the room, casting a comforting glow over their faces.

"Father," Neteyam greeted with respect, setting aside the neckpiece.

"Neteyam," Jake replied warmly, his gaze holding a touch of concern that he didn't bother to conceal.

It was the morning before Neteyam was set to make the trek toward the peak with the other young members of the clan.

Their purpose was clear: to prove their worth and earn their place as adults within the community. However, amidst the group, all eyes were particularly fixed on Neteyam. His journey carried an added weight – the burden of proving himself even more than his peers.

Observing the exchange, Lo'ak locked eyes with Jake, nodding in understanding. He knew what was coming – another heart-to-heart talk between father and son. It seemed like these talks were becoming more frequent lately, and Lo'ak found it tiresome to witness Neteyam's constant overthinking about his upcoming crowning ceremony.

It felt like just yesterday they were dumbass kids climbing trees and exploring the vibrant forest together. Now, with the looming responsibilities of adulthood and leadership, everything felt different.

"Lo'ak, why don't you give us a moment?" Jake suggested, giving his youngest son a knowing smile.

"Finally. Some peace," Lo'ak mumbled to himself, wandering away from the hut to give Neteyam and their father some privacy.

Inside the hut, Neteyam and Jake settled into an intimate silence. The curtains were shut tight but dim light filtered through the gaps in the woven walls, casting soft shadows on their faces, creating a serene atmosphere that encouraged open conversation.

"Things have been hard as of late, huh?" Jake began, his voice gentle and understanding. "Ikinimaya is in a few hours… How are you feeling about the climb?"

Neteyam shrugged, trying to put on a brave front. "Not much," he replied with a smile. "I think I'm more focused on what happens after."

Jake's nod was thoughtful, his eyes reflecting a deep understanding of the burden that came with leadership. He was no stranger to the weight of such a role, having borne it himself as Eywa's chosen one.

After the ceremony, if Neteyam were to complete the ascent, his crowning ceremony as chief would soon occur. Unlike the Omatikaya, where they usually held separate ceremonies for these milestones, the Iuva'ri followed a different tradition, crowning their chiefs on the same day of their coming of age.

It was a big change for Neteyam, but Jake had confidence in his son's ability to adapt and lead.

"I was just like you back then," Jake grinned, nudging Neteyam. "It's a big moment in your life, and the responsibilities that come with it can be overwhelming. But you've got this. You've grown into a strong and thoughtful man."

Neteyam smiled gratefully at his father's words. "Thanks, Dad," he said softly, feeling a sense of reassurance and comfort wash over him.

As Jake's eyes fell on the necklace in Neteyam's hand, his face softened, and a warm smile tugged at his lips. "Is that for her?" he asked, pointing to the beautifully woven piece.

Neteyam nodded nervously, his heart fluttering with a mix of excitement and uncertainty as he held out the carefully crafted gift.

"Yes. I made it," he replied, his voice carrying the timbre of pride mingled with a touch of vulnerability. "What do you think?"

Jake's weathered hands accepted the necklace from his son's outstretched hand, cradling it delicately in his palm. His fingers traced the intricate patterns, each movement a touch of appreciation for the meticulous work that had gone into it.

As the beads slid under his skin, memories of his own courting days resurfaced, painting his thoughts with the vibrant hues of nostalgia. He couldn't help but feel a twinge of longing for the time when he had first encountered Neytiri, their connection as profound and tender as the bond that was now flourishing between Neteyam and his own future mate.

"This is beautiful work," Jake remarked, genuinely impressed by the piece. "She'll love it."

The tension in Neteyam's shoulders eased at his father's genuine praise, a tide of relief sweeping through him.

"I'm glad you think so," he admitted. "I really want this to be special for her."

Jake's expression softened.

"Go on then," he encouraged. He leaned over to hand the necklace back to Neteyam. "She must be waiting for you, boy."

With a grateful smile, Neteyam pocketed the necklace and stood up.

He stepped out onto the balcony, the cool early morning air brushing against his skin. There, he found Lo'ak waiting for him, leaning against the side of the hut.

"What did Dad say?" Lo'ak asked, trying to act nonchalant, but his eyes betrayed his genuine interest. It was clear he was evesdropping but Neteyam decided against bringing it up.

"He thinks she'll love it," Neteyam answered, a hint of relief and satisfaction coloring his words.

Lo'ak rolled his eyes playfully, though a glint of affection was unmistakable in his expression. "Well, then you better not keep her waiting."

Neteyam chuckled, grateful for his support. "I won't. Thanks, baby brother."

With that, Neteyam began his journey to your hut, his heart alternating between racing with anticipation and fluttering with nerves.

The familiar sounds of the mountain village greeted him as he stepped outside—the rustling leaves carried by the breeze, hushed conversations from nearby huts, and the distant chirps of the valley's creatures. It was a soothing symphony that accompanied his walk.

Following a rocky path, he caught sight of the warmth spilling from the oil lamps within your hut. The soft light painted inviting shadows on the walls, offering a sense of comfort.

Taking a moment to collect himself, Neteyam breathed deeply, letting the crisp air anchor him before he entered the hut.

And there you were, seated beside a small stove fire. The joy that lit up your eyes upon seeing him immediately melted away some of his apprehension.

You sat gracefully on a cushion woven from palm threads, encircled by bowls of luminescent paint, each brimming with vibrant hues.

"Ma'Teteyam," you greeted with a soft smile, setting aside the bowl of paint in your hands. "I had hoped you would come soon."

He approached you with a hum, feeling a delightful warmth spread through his chest at the sight of you.

"I wouldn't keep you waiting," he replied, trying to keep his voice steady despite the emotions swirling within him.

As you gestured for him to come closer, Neteyam sat down in front of you, feeling the space between you diminish as you scooted over. You dipped your fingers into one of the polished wooden bowls, and with a tender grace, you began painting delicate patterns on his skin.

Neteyam watched your every move, his breath hitching as your fingertips traced over his flexed muscles. It felt as though he was not just preparing for a ceremony but for a new chapter in his life.

The Na'vi closed his eyes briefly, allowing himself to savor the warmth of your touch as you worked on him. The feeling of your fingers on his skin was both intimate and comforting, a silent reassurance that you were by his side, supporting him every step of the way.

His thoughts were momentarily interrupted by your soft voice, breaking the silence that enveloped the hut.

"You have put so much effort to prepare for this day," you said, your eyes locked on his face, "it is an honor to be a part of it."

He opened his eyes, meeting your gaze with sincerity. "I couldn't imagine sharing this moment with anyone else but you," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.

The painting continued, each stroke of your fingers bringing you closer together, both physically and emotionally. Neteyam found himself mesmerized by your focus, the way you seemed to pour your heart and soul into every delicate detail.

Finally, you finished, and Neteyam admired the beautiful patterns adorning his skin. Your eyes locked again, and the moment hung in the air, heavy with emotion and anticipation. The crackling of the fire and the dancing shadows around you seemed to amplify the intimacy of this shared experience.

As the warmth of the stove fire illuminated your faces, Neteyam leaned in slowly. The world around you seemed to fade away as your lips met in a tender and passionate kiss.

As you parted, Neteyam whispered, "Nga yawne lu oer."

A wide smile spread across your face, and you replied, "Nga yawne lu oer.

Humming, Neteyam's arms wrapped around you, holding you close. With you in his embrace, he felt complete, and the weight of his future responsibilities seemed to lift, replaced by a deep sense of purpose and belonging.

The soft crackling of the fire filled the hut with a warm and comforting ambiance, lulling both of you into a comfortable silence. As the flames danced, casting flickering shadows on the woven walls, Neteyam's eyes never left yours, captivated by the tenderness not normally seen in them.

Your fingers traced gentle patterns on his painted cheek, and the affection in your smile made his heart jump with joy.

"I have something for you," you whispered, beginning to draw away from him.

Neteyam reluctantly released his embrace, but his hand lingered on your waist. You chuckled playfully, gently slapping his forearms, urging him to let go.

"I will not be far," you assured him, your eyes locking onto his with affection.

Reluctantly, Neteyam let you go, allowing you the space to retrieve your surprise. You moved towards the cabinets, and he watched with curiosity, wondering what you had in store for him. When you emerged with a fur coat and an axe in hand, his eyebrows raised in intrigue.

"These will help you with your ascent later," you explained.

With a swift movement, you draped the soft fur coat over Neteyam's shoulders, and he immediately felt the warmth of the fabric enveloping him.

The axe you handed him was a well-crafted tool, sturdy and reliable. Its wooden handle fit perfectly in his grip, and the weight was balanced. The crystal blade on it was a striking sight, capturing the firelight and reflecting it back in dazzling purple hues.

"Thank you," he smiled gratefully, his heart brimming with appreciation for your thoughtful gifts. He couldn't help but lean in to press another tender kiss on your forehead.

Nodding at him, you both stood up, your hands guiding him out of the hut. The soft light of the rising sun bathed the mountain village in a gentle glow as you walked together.

"Come," you smile. "The people are waiting."

When a person prepares to become one with your people, experiencing their rebirth, the clan initiates a ceremony. The warriors, adorned with vibrant paint, assemble before the Tsahìk as she prepares them for the ascent.

This final trial, the crucible determining their standing among the Iuva'ri, was a journey. A journey deep into the enigmatic Clouded Peak, a desolate expanse shrouded in snow with perils lurking in every corner.

Victory in this ascent signifies your second birth. Following this achievement, the clan engages in a celebration featuring dance, feasting, and storytelling—a tapestry that weaves bonds. These bonds intertwine them with the people.

This unity is then dedicated to Eywa. It is in that sacred space where a lifelong position among the people is earned, an indelible bond forged forever.

"Tìng mikyun ayoe rutxe nawma ma sa'nok."

As Tsahìk, you stand tall, hosting the sacred coming of age ceremony — The Ascent.

Before you, a line of tall, rugged young men and women stand. Each one carries their own axes and spears, protection for the challenges that lie ahead. Heavy coats rest upon their shoulders, ready to protect them from the biting winds of the ascent.

The presence of Eywa, the Great Mother, is strong and felt in every aspect of the ceremony, infusing the spirits of the young warriors with her guidance. Above, the sky hangs dark and heavy, the wind's mournful song echoing through the trees, creating an aura of solemnity. Illuminating the scene are tall torches lodged in the dirt, casting their flickering glow upon the sacred space.

Just behind you stand the families of the participants, emotions ranging from pride to worry visible as they bear witness to this pivotal moment.

With a solemn grace, you bestow your blessings upon each warrior, marking their foreheads with your painted hand, chanting sacred words as you invoke the great mother's protection and guidance.

"May the Great Mother be with you," you utter. A female warrior before you nods in acknowledgment, her face adorned with a respectful smile.

Moving through the line, you came to Tserat, his face shadowed by conflicting emotions. Unfazed by his glower, you placed your hand upon his chest, offering the same sacred blessing as you did for the others.

"May the Great Mother be with you," you repeated, watching carefully as the red paint stained on his chest. Tserat's head tilted slightly in a small nod, acknowledging the gesture, but his guarded expression remained.

Then, it was Neteyam's turn. As you approached him, your previously stern expression transformed into a genuine, warm smile. The fur coat you had lovingly bestowed upon him was draped over his broad shoulders making his figure appear larger and more imposing. The axe, with its striking purple blade, hung at his side.

As you bestowed your blessing upon him, his hand gently brushed against yours in a fleeting touch, a wordless reassurance passing between you.

"May the Great Mother be with you," you repeated once more. The smile you offered held layers of affection and respect. Neteyam nodded as he felt the warmth of your touch seeping into his very being, strengthening him for the path ahead.

"And to you," he replied, his voice soft.

With the blessings bestowed upon all the warriors, you stepped back and your mother took over. As they followed after her command, the warriors set forth into the mountain, spirits aflame with determination.

Neteyam turned back to you, his eyes locking onto yours once more. Then, with a final nod, he turned away to join the others, his figure blending into the shadows cast by the towering trees. As the last traces of the young warriors disappeared from view, you took a deep breath, feeling the weight of the moment settle upon your shoulders.

The village around you was filled with hushed voices and a sense of anticipation, knowing that the destiny of the clan was now in the hands of the brave souls who set forth into the unknown.

"Hold strong, brothers and sisters!"

The peaks of the snowy mountains were a world unto themselves. As the young warriors ascended, they found themselves in a landscape that commanded and tested their physical and mental resilience.

The air, thin and brittle, clawed at their lungs with every inhale, as if the very atmosphere was challenging their presence. The winds, like invisible daggers, sliced through their heavy coats, piercing to the core with their frosty bite. The gusts carried echoes of warnings whispered by the mountains themselves.

The snowy terrain, draped in a pristine white cloak, was a deceptive tapestry of danger. Icy patches lay in ambush, waiting to send even the most seasoned warriors sliding down the steep slopes. The snow, once a soft and powdery expanse, became a battleground as it clung to their legs like quicksand, each step an arduous struggle against the weight of the drifts.

Throughout the ascent, towering rock formations rose like sentinels, casting eerie silhouettes against the darkening sky. Above them, dark and ominous clouds loomed, casting a shadow over the landscape. Visibility was limited, with the peaks shrouded in a thick veil of mist and fog, making it challenging to navigate and discern the safest path.

The ascent was grueling, and Neteyam found himself exerting every ounce of strength to overcome the challenges of the harsh terrain. He trudged forward, his breath visible in the frigid air, while the weight of his heavy coat provided some respite from the biting cold.

Despite the difficulties, Neteyam proved himself to be a skilled and determined climber. He navigated the icy slopes with skill, making steady progress as he ascended higher and higher.

However, even the most skilled climbers could falter in the face of such challenging terrain. It happened in the blink of an eye — a misstep, a patch of ice, and Neteyam's balance was compromised. His foothold gave way, and he found himself sliding down the slope, the cold snow and sharp ice clawing at his skin.

In the midst of his unexpected descent, a frustrated curse escaped his lips. "Fuck."

Tserat, never one to miss an opportunity to taunt him, couldn't help but let out a chuckle at Neteyam's misfortune.

"Forest boy!" Tserat's grin was wide, his amusement evident. "Careful or else you meet Eywa first before you reach the top!"

His comment was met with the amused laughter of some of the other warriors. Shaking his head with a smirk, Tserat turned to the rest of the group, speaking in the Iuvarian dialect, "Did you see that skxawng? He has two left feet."

Neteyam's pride stung, but he quickly composed himself. He shrugged off the snow clinging to his coat, his grip firm on his axe. With a grunt, he steadied himself, using the axe as an anchor to regain his foothold on the treacherous slope.

Finally, Neteyam found his balance and stood straight again. His shadowed eyes met Tserat's with an intensity as if he was silently daring Tserat to push him any further.

Tserat snorted dismissively at the unspoken challenge, opting to avoid further provocation. He turned his attention ahead, recommencing his climb in a brooding silence.

Then, in an abrupt upheaval of the tranquil surroundings, the ear-splitting roar of a formidable beast tore through the air. It emerged from the shadows, its massive form nearly matching the trees that lined the mountain slope, and its powerful muscles rippled beneath its thick, coarse fur.

"It's a Nix'feli!" one of the warriors roared out.

The beast's eyes were a piercing shade of amber, burning with an intense primal fury. Its fur, as white as the snow around it, was mottled with dark patterns, reminiscent of ancient tribal markings. Razor-sharp claws, capable of rending through flesh and bone, extended menacingly from its massive paws. A long, sinuous tail swished through the air, leaving deep impressions in the snow with each movement.

The warriors roared out battle cries as they tightened their grips on their weapons, readying themselves. Each one sought a strategic position, spreading out to encircle the formidable creature. However, unlike the other warriors whose moonlit skin offered them some natural camouflage against the snowy backdrop, Neteyam's dark indigo skin stood out vividly, drawing the beast's attention to him.

With a fearsome roar, the feline launched itself at Neteyam, claws extended, aiming directly at him. The world around him blurred as his instincts took over, and with a graceful leap, he evaded the deadly strike. The beast's claws scraped the air where he had stood just moments before, and the force of its attack sent snow flying in all directions.

"Wiya!" Snarling, Tserat managed to loop a thick rope around the feline's neck, anchoring himself in the snow as he strained to halt the beast's ferocious advance.

Several feet away, Neteyam landed with a heavy thud, scraping against the rocks, but swiftly regained his footing. The axe you had gifted him remained firmly in his hand, but he knew he needed a weapon better suited for this confrontation. With a quick decision, he released his grip on the axe and reached for his bow slung over his shoulders. He felt its reassuring weight in his hand as he notched an arrow and focused his gaze on the beast.

With measured intent, he released the arrow, it's trajectory a deadly precision. The arrow found its mark, embedding itself in the beast's eye, igniting a resonant roar of torment that resounded throughout the mountains.

"Another!" Tserat's grip on the rope grew ironclad, utilizing every ounce of his strength to restrain the writhing feline.

"Hold him steady!" Neteyam hissed, preparing for a second shot.

With another swift release, he unleashed another arrow into the frigid air. The arrow struck deep into the beast's flesh, piercing the creature's lungs.

With a final roar, the Nix'feli succumbed to the wounds it had sustained, collapsing onto the pristine snow. Its once-white coat was now marred by streaks of crimson, a contrast that painted the snowy canvas in vivid shades of red.

The young warriors erupted into cheers, hailing Neteyam's clean kill. They hyped him up with enthusiastic shouts and claps on his back, celebrating the triumph over the formidable feline.

Amidst the cheering, Neteyam's gaze locked with Tserat's once more. The Na'vi was rubbing his rope burned palms, blue skin bruising into a deep purple. Tserat stayed silent for a while, his pride momentarily giving way to a begrudging acknowledgment of Neteyam's abilities.

"Finish him off," Tserat ordered, throwing his rope back into his satchel.

Neteyam nodded in understanding, his heart still pounding with the adrenaline of the encounter. He trudged towards the beast, his blade gripped firmly in his hand. He then knelt beside the fallen creature, whispering words of prayer and gratitude for the life that had been taken.

With a final act of mercy, Neteyam raised his blade and delivered a swift, precise strike to the beast's heart. As the blade pierced through, ending the creature's suffering, a sense of peace seemed to settle upon the snowy mountainside. The once-ferocious feline let out one last exhale, and its fierce amber eyes softened in the moment of passing.

Suddenly, a hand reached out, and Neteyam looked up to see Tserat standing beside him.

"Get up," Tserat murmured gruffly, his voice carrying a strange blend of annoyance and something deeper beneath the surface. "We still have to complete the ascent."

Neteyam nodded and quickly rose to his feet, not at all surprised by the mix of emotions that Tserat's demeanor reflected. He stooped to retrieve his discarded axe, giving it a quick shake to dislodge the clinging snow.

As Neteyam continued his ascent, his mind was a whirlwind of thoughts. The triumph over the beast had been a demonstration of his skills, but it had also brought into focus the responsibilities he was about to embrace. The mantle of leadership was within his grasp, and he couldn't afford to falter.

Hours seemed to pass as they climbed higher, each step bringing them closer to their destination. The world around them became a blend of white and gray, the sky merging with the snowy landscape as they ascended into the clouds.

Finally, as the sun began its descent, casting a warm golden hue across the icy expanse, they reached the peak. A sense of awe and accomplishment washed over them as they gazed out at the breathtaking beauty before them.

Tserat's demeanor softened, his gaze capturing the ethereal view. With a slight nod, he turned to Neteyam, and in his eyes, a begrudging respect simmered.

"You did well, golden boy," Tserat admitted, his voice carrying a surprising sincerity as he crossed his arms.

Neteyam's smile radiated a sense of fulfillment. "You held your own too," he replied, a shared understanding bridging the gap between them, if only for a fleeting moment.

Once the weary but triumphant warriors returned to the village, families surged forward to welcome back their sons and daughters, now transformed into full-fledged adults of the clan. Amidst this sea of emotions, Neteyam found himself engulfed in the warm embrace of his family. Their pride and love encircled him, forming a cocoon of unwavering support.

However, he couldn't resist the pull to find you, the one who had been his pillar of support throughout his journey.

Amidst the collective embrace of the village, your figure stood tall. Your eyes, adorned with a glint of pride and affection, were fixed upon him.

A triumphant grin stretched on his lips as he closed the gap between you, his bright golden eyes locking onto yours.

"Sweet girl," his words brushed against your skin in a tender whisper as gentle kiss was planted on your forehead. The touch of his lips sent warmth spreading through your cheeks, and you reciprocated the gesture by pressing a peck to his cheek, the coolness of his skin still clinging from the snowy heights they had scaled.

"You did it, my mighty warrior," your voice held a note of sincere admiration, your hand reaching up to graze the rugged terrain of his jawline. He leaned into your touch, savoring the intimate connection between you amidst the surrounding crowd.

As the celebratory atmosphere gradually settled, your mother, called for all to gather. Neteyam was led to the forefront, his broad shoulders clasped by the palms of her wrinkled hands as she presented him to the entire clan.

"Neteyam Te Sulli Tsyey’ite, son of Toruk Makto, has completed the ascent! He has proven himself in our ways and is now fit to hold the position of Olo'eyktan!"

The announcement was met with thunderous applause and pride from the entire clan. But as Ìumayi's eyes swept over the crowd, they locked onto a particular pair. She caught sight of Tserat, who stood tall and proud among the assembled warriors.

Their gazes lingered for a moment before Ìumayi looked away, making it clear that the challenge for the throne had been expected. She gracefully slipped the fur coat off of Neteyam's shoulders and held it up for all to see.

"I now offer a chance at the throne! If anyone wishes to challenge him, step up!"

For a moment, the air seemed tense, silence falling over the crowd. Then, without a word, the people parted, and a figure stepped forward. It was no surprise to see Tserat stepping into the circle, signature scowl etched into his face.

Ìumayi nodded solemnly, acknowledging the challenge, and Tserat removed his coat, brandishing his blade with confidence. Neteyam, too, unsheathed his weapon.

"Tserat Te Ser'oa Aketo'itan has challenged Neteyam Te Sulli Tsyey’ite for the throne!" Ìumayi announced, her voice carrying authority as she gestured for the crowd to form a bigger circle around the two warriors.

Both Neteyam and Tserat locked eyes, their gazes dark and intense as they approached each other. Neteyam's expression was a portrait of unwavering composure, his eyes never straying from the piercing milky depths of Tserat's gaze. There was a quiet confidence about him.

On the other side, Tserat's lips curved into a grim frown.

His emotions were a storm—respect, undoubtedly, for the great warrior that Neteyam was. But beneath that, an undercurrent of uncertainty swirled like a glint of moonlight caught on the surface of a turbulent sea.

The recent display of Neteyam's strength had commanded his respect, but leadership was a different realm, a realm where hunting prowess, while significant, was just one facet of the mosaic of qualities required. Whether the forest dweller's completion of Ikinimaya made him fit enough to lead their people, was a question that churned in Tserat's mind like a tempest.

The challenge had been thrown, the time for words had faded—only actions remained to define their outcome.

Ìumayi raised her hand, and with a firm voice, she declared, "Begin!"

With a fierce battle cry, Tserat charged at Neteyam, his movements fluid and controlled. He swung his blade in a deadly arc, aiming for Neteyam's midsection. But the Omatikayan was agile and skilled, effortlessly sidestepping the attack.

As Tserat's blade sailed past, Neteyam countered with a swift jab of his own, aimed at Tserat's exposed side.

The sound of metal clashing echoed through the gathering as Tserat managed to block Neteyam's blow just in time. The crowd gasped, watching the intensity of the duel unfold before their eyes.

The clash of their weapons resonated like a symphony of steel meeting steel, each strike executed with unwavering precision and met with a fierce parry.

In the midst of this battle, Tserat's calculated maneuvers began to yield results. With a swift and precise strike, his blade found its mark on Neteyam's side, the sharp point penetrating deep into azure skin.

A searing pain tore through Neteyam's body, eliciting a wince that he fought to suppress. Rivulets of blood flowed down his side, staining the grass beneath him. Tserat's triumphant laughter filled the air as he twisted the knife, eliciting a hiss of pain through Neteyam's gritted teeth.

A knee to Neteyam's abdomen sent him stumbling, his foot catching on an uneven rock. The world seemed to warp and waver as he slid to the ground, the impact jarring his senses and amplifying the pain radiating from his wounded side. Dazed and disoriented for a heartbeat, Neteyam fought to regain his footing, his chest heaving with the effort.

"Get up!" Tserat hissed.

Jaw clenched tight, Neteyam summoned every last ounce of strength, his fingers curling around Tserat's blade. A grimace of pain etched onto his features as he yanked the weapon free from his own flesh.

"Come at me," Neteyam snarled, swiftly getting back to his feet. The blade spun in his free hand before he tossed it. It skittered across the ground and out of the circle, which now left Tserat disarmed.

Unfazed, Tserat moved to tackle him once more, bringing them crashing to the ground with a resounding thud that echoed through the expanse of the circle. The impact jarred both warriors, their bodies absorbing the shock as they grappled on the ground.

Amidst the struggle, Tserat seized the opportunity to deliver a series of powerful blows to Neteyam's face. Each strike landed with force, leaving Neteyam momentarily disoriented.

"Neteyam!" Your voice rang out, an anguished cry of worry cutting through the air as your tail lashed anxiously by your feet. You were poised to rush in, to throw yourself into the fray and intervene in his defense. But before you could act upon your instinct, your mother's firm grip on your arm halted your movements.

A mixture of shock and frustration crossed your features, your eyes widening in protest as you hissed at her.

"Mother—" you protested urgently, your voice edged with a mixture of fear and anger. "This is not a battle anymore! Tserat is turning it into an execution!"

"Let them be," she commanded, her tone unyielding as she met your gaze with a steady and unwavering stare. "This is our way. You cannot intervene."

A low, anguished whimper escaped your lips, a mixture of helplessness and frustration welling up inside you.

Tserat's triumphant sneer was a bitter sight to behold as he seized Neteyam's kuru, lifting him effortlessly from the ground. A kick sent Neteyam's own blade skittering away, leaving him defenseless and exposed to the mercy of his opponent.

The scene was agonizing, a twisting knot of emotions in the pit of your stomach.

"Where is your Olo'eyktan now?" Tserat's jeer echoed in the air, the words heavy with contempt. "This is no chief! Just a misplaced boy! Not fit to lead!"

Yet, Neteyam refused to give up so quickly. He kicked at Tserat's shins, causing the man to fall with a shout of surprise. With Tserat momentarily off balance, Neteyam seized the opportunity, his muscles coiling with determination. He locked Tserat in a chokehold, the strain evident in the tight set of his jaw and the flex of his arms as he pressed his forearm against Tserat's windpipe, causing the man to wheeze and struggle.

The battle raged on, their grunts and cries mixing with the roars of the crowd. The cheers and shouts seemed distant as Neteyam focused solely on the man on top of him. He could already feel Tserat's resistance waning.

“Yield,” Neteyam hissed, the veins on his arms bulging as his muscles strained with the effort, grip unyielding. "You are a mighty warrior! The people need you! Your people need you!"

Tserat hesitated, his breaths shallow and labored. The weight of his choices bore down on him, and in that moment, he saw the truth in Neteyam's words.

Slowly, Tserat's resistance wavered, his strength slipping through his fingers like sand. With a feeble tap against Neteyam's arm, he signaled his surrender, submitting to the man.

The cheers of the crowd echoed around them, celebrating their new leader, their new Olo'eyktan. As celebration filled the air, Ìumayi stepped forward to separate the two warriors, signaling the end of the intense duel.

With a low whine, Neteyam managed to get back on his feet, his body still tense with the pain from the wound in his side. He grimaced, feeling the warmth of his own blood seeping through his fingers as he held onto the injured area.

Drawing in heavy breaths, he directed his gaze downward, locking eyes with Tserat for a fleeting moment. Amidst the lingering animosity that had once defined their relationship, a flicker of understanding seemed to pass between them. It was a silent, unspoken acknowledgment of the strength they had both exhibited in this grueling battle.

"You fought well," Neteyam murmured. He extended his hand, a gesture of goodwill meant to bridge the divide between them.

"I know," Tserat scoffed, his pride not entirely diminished by the outcome. His hand slapped Neteyam's aside dismissively, his emotions still raw from the defeat. With a final glance back, he turned away, retreating into the crowd, his head bowed low in an attempt to save face.

Before Neteyam could take a step toward Tserat, a strong yet gentle grip on his side halted him. You were at his side in an instant, your gaze filled with concern as you carefully assessed his injuries. Your hands probed cautiously at the wound on his side, your touch gentle yet deliberate.

The sight before you made your heart clench — a deep gash on his side, his face marred by bruises and smeared with blood. His rugged appearance was in stark contrast to the tender expression in his eyes as he looked down at you.

All of a sudden, the adrenaline that had fueled the battle was now beginning to wane, replaced by the harsh reality of pain. Neteyam's groan cut through the air, his body doubling over in response to the searing ache that pulsed from his injuries.

"Oh, yawne," you murmured softly, your voice laced with concern and care. You moved closer, wrapping an arm around his waist to support him. Your touch was soothing, a balm for the pain he endured. "Come, let us go to our hut."

"Syulang," Neteyam murmured, his brow furrowing as he glanced at you with a touch of worry. His tongue darted out to swipe at the blood on his cut lip, his focus shifting between you and the path ahead. His voice held a note of uncertainty. "But what about the crowning ceremony? Your mother emphasized its importance. A lot."

Your mother and Neteyam's parents approached at that moment. Ìumayi acknowledged his comment with a nod, affirming the tradition.

"Yes. The crowning ceremony must proceed immediately after the ascent," she acknowledged, her gaze dropping to the visible injuries on Neteyam's form. "He will bear his wounds for the time being."

"My son cannot—" Neytiri began, intending to express her concern for his injured form, but you quickly interjected, not willing to let the ceremony take precedence over his well-being.

"I will not let him go through with the ceremony while he is bleeding out," you hissed, your determination clear in your voice and stance. Ears pinned back in frustration, you held your ground. "The traditions will have to be set aside. My mate comes first."

Neytiri regarded you with a surprised look, her gaze lingering on you in newfound admiration. She soon broke into a warm smile, her approval evident. In contrast, your mother seemed on the brink of an argument.

"It is his duty. The people are waiting," she hissed, gesturing to the crowd behind her.

You looked back, noticing that the people had already begun to disperse, making their way to the ceremony site in anticipation of witnessing the ascension of their new Olo'eyktan. And yet, your focus remained unswerving, your thoughts centered solely on Neteyam's well-being.

The idea of him undergoing the ascension ceremony while in his current state was unthinkable to you, and you were resolute in your determination to prioritize him above all else.

"This is a matter for the Tsahìk," you asserted, tail whipping by your feet in anger. "I will not have you ask me of this!"

With a final huff, you turned, guiding Neteyam gently back towards your healing hut.

The elderly woman let out an exasperated hiss, her fingers gripping at her own hair in a mixture of disbelief and frustration. "Great Mother, that girl wants to drive me to an early grave."

Frustration evident in her demeanor, your mother marched away. In the midst of this back-and-forth, both Jake and Neytiri observed closely, trusting your instincts and expertise as you led their son toward your hut.

"Eywa has chosen well for Neteyam," Neytiri spoke up, breaking the silence and drawing the attention of her family. With a playful grin, she gestured towards you. "I like her. She is a feisty one."

As you entered the seclusion of your hut, a sense of tranquility settled over you both. You gently helped Neteyam settle onto a soft fur-covered mat, supporting his back against a pile of cushions. His golden eyes locked onto yours, filled with gratitude and affection for your unwavering care.

"It's better you rest, yawne," you said, brushing a strand of hair away from his forehead. "The ceremony can wait. Your well-being is my priority right now."

Neteyam nodded, his hand reaching out to grasp yours, intertwining your fingers. "Thank you," he whispered, his voice hoarse from the battle and the strain of the day's events. "I don't know what I would do without you."

You simply smile and begin to tend to his wound, applying cooling salves and bandages, your gentle touch easing his pain.

The soothing motions of your touch have a profound effect on Neteyam. As the pain begins to lighten, he feels himself drifting into a drowsy state, his body and mind succumbing to much-needed rest. The tension and adrenaline from the battle slowly melt away, replaced by a sense of peace in your presence.

His eyes flutter closed as he leans into your care, finding solace in the knowledge that you are there, looking after him. With each soft touch, he feels the weight of the day's events dissipate, and the warm embrace of your love envelops him like a protective cocoon.

The sounds of the outside world fade away, leaving only the quiet hush of the healing hut. The scent of medicinal herbs and the familiar earthy aroma of the forest soothe his senses and he falls into a deep sleep.

Time seemed to pass in a dream-like haze, and as Neteyam finally awoke, he felt renewed and invigorated. The pain from his wound had significantly subsided, thanks to your skilled touch.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky in hues of amber and violet, the moment for the crowning ceremony had arrived. The air was filled with anticipation and excitement as the Na'vi people gathered at the heart of their sacred spirit tree, where the presence of Eywa was strongest. The rhythmic beat of the drums echoed in harmony with the chants of the crowd.

Neteyam, now adorned in ceremonial attire, walked down the path toward the center of the gathering, the cheers of the people and the resonating drums echoing the rhythm of his heart.

He wore a tunic crafted from soft, supple leather, dyed in earthy tones that blended harmoniously with the surrounding forest. Draped across his chest and shoulders was a fur garment, a poignant reminder of his triumph over the fearsome Nix'feli he had vanquished during his rite of passage. Along its edges, two imposing fangs from the vanquished creature were displayed

As he reached the center of the gathering, where you and Ìumayi awaited, Neteyam knelt before you both, a gesture of respect and reverence for his beloved and his mother. Your eyes gleamed with love and admiration as you gently clasped a necklace over his collarbone, a cherished heirloom that had been passed down through generations of leaders.

Ìumayi, her previous ire now gone, regarded him with a warm and proud smile. Stepping forward gracefully, she lifted her headpiece from her forehead and carefully positioned it upon his head. It was a poignant symbol of the legacy she was entrusting to him, signifying the passing down of her mantle as Olo'eyktan.

"My son," she spoke with a voice of wisdom and love, "You are one of us now. You are to lead the people now."

Neteyam met her gaze, his expression one of deep gratitude and determination. He bowed his head in acknowledgment, accepting the mantle of leadership with humility and determination. As Ìumayi turned back to the crowd, her voice carried through the beats of the drums and the chants of the Na'vi, resonating with authority and pride.

"Come! Let us celebrate!" she declared, her smile infectious, and the gathered Na'vi erupted into joyous cheers, their voices united in celebration of their new chief and the hope for a bright and harmonious future under his leadership.

The celebration was in full swing, with the Na'vi people dancing around the campfire, their bodies swaying in perfect harmony with the rhythmic beats of the music that filled the air. Laughter and joy echoed through the night, as stories of bravery and triumph were shared among the warriors. Neteyam, still adorned in his ceremonial attire, found himself at the center of attention.

"The Nix'feli was like nothing I've seen before," Neteyam recounts as he gestures to the bow slung over his shoulder. "But in the end, it was struck down. AlI from two arrows."

The warriors gathered around him, whistling and poking at the bow in admiration, grinning proudly at their new chief. But amidst the festivities, murmurs spread through the group as Tserat approached, carrying a drink in hand. His gaze was dark, and the tension between him and Neteyam was palpable.

With a mischievous glint in his eye, Tserat challenged Neteyam to drink. The crowd looked on eagerly, curious to see how their new chief would respond. Neteyam accepted the challenge and took a hearty swig from the cup, eliciting cheers from the gathered warriors.

Tserat, never one to back down from a challenge, also took a swig from the woven cup, the firelight casting a flickering glow on his face as he did so.

As the night wore on, their conversation took an unexpected turn, veering into a somewhat playful banter between Tserat and Neteyam.

"You know," Tserat slurred, his speech slightly affected by the drinks, "I was almost certain your stubbornness would have gotten you killed during the first trial." He raised his cup to his lips for another gulp, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

Neteyam, his senses already dulled by the effect of the potent brew, swayed slightly on the log he was perched upon, managing to maintain his balance only with considerable effort. His response came out in a slurred drawl, eliciting laughter from the men who had gathered around.

"I don't give up easily," he mumbled, a playful smile curving his lips.

In the midst of the good-natured conversation, Neteyam's alcohol-fogged mind seemed to pause, a serious thought managing to cut through the haze. "I have a question," he murmured, his ears twitching as he leaned in slightly.

Tserat leaned forward on the log they shared, the wood creaking softly beneath his weight. His pale eyes bore into Neteyam's expectant ones. "Ask away."

Neteyam took a deep breath, the fogginess in his mind clearing momentarily as he focused.

"In the rite, you ran a knife through my flesh," he spoke in a hushed tone, his words carrying a somber weight. "I, in turn, humiliated you in front of the clan. I took your place. And yet, looking at your eyes now… there's no hatred. Why? Why don't you hate me?"

Tserat's initial response was almost dismissive. He scoffed, tossing his woven cup to the ground, the liquid within spilling onto the dirt.

"Tsk! I did hate you," Tserat admitted, going into a tirade. "I hated you when you entered my village and demanded uturu. I hated you when you took away my position. I felt the sting of rejection, so I acted on those emotions of hatred and look where it led."

Tserat gestured towards the bandages on Neteyam's side, a low laugh rumbling in his chest.

"That is payback," he smirked.

Neteyam, however, wasn't satisfied with this answer. His brows furrowed in confusion as he shook his head. "No, I understand those feelings well. What I mean is—during the battle ritual. When I told you to yield, you did so, and at the end, there was a different look in your eyes."

Tserat's expression shifted, his eyes narrowing thoughtfully. "Yes," he finally responded after a long pause, his fingers drumming on the log's surface.

"And after the battle?" Neteyam pressed, his curiosity unyielding.

Tserat's nostrils flared slightly, his expression caught between annoyance and contemplation.

Wiya... This man. "No. I did not hate you then. I had just thought I was content to have lost to an equal," he replied, a trace of begrudging respect in his tone.

"Content to lose to an equal?" Neteyam repeated, his voice tinged with amusement. "Why me? How did you know I was an equal?"

Tserat laughed heartily, throwing his head back. He then leaned forward to grab a wrap of meat, fangs biting down on it’s leaf covering. "I know you," he said between bites, his demeanor oddly introspective.

Neteyam, still perplexed, shook his head slightly. "There is much you don't know about me. We've barely exchanged words."

“Ah. Words do not reveal much,” Tserat scoffs, leaning back as he pointed two fingers at his milky eyes.

“It’s all in the eyes. They never lie. I saw it in your gaze… One similar to mine," he mused, his fingers reaching out to clasp around Neteyam's shoulder, his gaze unflinching. "I saw you, brother."

A genuine smile tugged at Neteyam's lips, and he reciprocated the gesture by patting Tserat's back. "And I see you.”

Tserat leaned back with a smirk, scarfing down his wrap of meat.

"It's a pity," the man continued, a wistful undertone in his voice. "I could have been a remarkable Olo'eyktan."

Amused by the sentiment, Neteyam chuckled softly, his gaze momentarily distant as he imagined the alternative path that they might have walked. The atmosphere lightened, and Tserat seized the opportunity to grab another drink, the fleeting melancholy replaced by the camaraderie of their exchange.

Noticing the absence of Tsahìk, Tserat's curiosity was stirred. He leaned closer to Neteyam, his shoulders nudging his companion with a teasing grin.

"Where is your mate?" he prodded, his tone playfully taunting. "Leaving her all alone on the day of your ceremony? If I were you, we would be deep in Vitraya Ramunong right now!" he chuckled, earning hollers and laughter from the men around them.

"Do not talk about her like that," Neteyam hissed, shoving at Tserat's shoulder, his protective instincts flaring up.

Undeterred by Neteyam's reaction, Tserat merely raised his brows.

"So, what's the story?" he inquired, his grin unrelenting. "Why aren’t you stuck to her side like a fwampop today?”

A sigh slipped past Neteyam's lips, his gaze momentarily distant as he considered the complexities of the situation. "My sisters have taken her away," he eventually revealed.

Tserat's intrigue was far from satisfied. His brows remained raised, his curiosity persistent. "Why?" he pressed, the question hanging in the air, fueled by genuine interest.

Neteyam's shoulders lifted in a nonchalant shrug, his expression taking on a somewhat guarded quality. He took a sip of his drink, its bittersweet taste momentarily distracting him.

"Omatikayan matters," he replied, the words an attempt to deflect further probing.

In front of the warmth of the Sully's hut, you felt a mix of excitement and nervousness as Kiri and Tuk prepared you for the upcoming meeting with Neteyam. Kiri's hands were deftly braiding your hair into a classic Omatikayan style, and you couldn't help but pick at one of the braids out of curiosity.

"Interesting," you murmured, examining the beads she threaded into the braid. "Is this how your people did it back home?"

"Yes," Kiri beamed, her hands deftly working on another braid. "It's a classic hairstyle worn by Tsahìk back home. You look stunning with this style."

Her smile turned mischievous as she leaned in to whisper in your ear, dishevelled inky hair falling over her shoulders. "Neteyam will love it."

A bashful smile crept onto your face, and you couldn't help but hide your reddening cheeks with your palm. Kiri's teasing only added to your excitement for the upcoming celebration.

Just then, Tuk barged in with a bunch of woven tops in her arms. You examined the clothes with curiosity, noting how different they were from your usual attire. The tops were loose-fitting and incorporated more elements of the forest, in perfect harmony with the forest people's culture.

Kiri gasped as she noticed one of the tops in Tuk's hands. "Tuk!" she hissed, holding up a dainty lilac top. "This isn't mine! It's mother's!"

Tuk simply sighed, not too concerned about the mix-up. The young girl yanked the top out of her sister's hands and held the it up to your chest, almost as if she were envisioning how it would look on you.

"But she looks so good in it!" Tuk whined, pouting her lips.

You chuckled and gently took the lilac top away from her grabby hands. "It is pretty, but I am not too sure your mother would appreciate if I wore her clothes without permission," you said as you began to fold the woven top back up.

"I would not mind," Neytiri's voice suddenly filled the tent, and you all went quiet, turning to greet the woman.

"Neytiri," you spoke, pressing your fingers to your forehead and stretching it out in a gesture of respect. "I see you."

Neytiri nodded in acknowledgment and gently ushered Kiri away, taking her position in front of you. Her hands delicately held the woven top as she assessed it's appearance. The shift in atmosphere was palpable, and you couldn't help but sense an undercurrent of unspoken thoughts between you two.

The garment in Neytiri's hands, a woven top made of delicate lilac tendrils, was glittered with the shimmer of intricately woven gems. The weaving was intricate, elegant, and er... it left little to the imagination.

Neytiri's eyes appraised the woven creation, her fingers brushing over the patterns as if tracing memories. Her thoughts were a mystery, her feelings hidden beneath a veil of composure. These months of silent interactions had cast shadows of uncertainty, and you couldn't help but wonder how she truly felt about you marrying her son.

"This will look beautiful on you," Neytiri smiled warmly, seemingly approving of your choice. "Come and put it on. I wore this on my mating ceremony too."

With Kiri’s help, Neytiri slipped the woven top onto you, and you couldn't help but feel a sense of honor wearing something with such personal significance to her.

"Beautiful," Neytiri affirmed, her smile radiant as she looked at you, her gaze holding a newfound warmth.

You returned the smile, feeling grateful for her acceptance. "Thank you."

Neytiri merely hummed as her focus shifted to your hair. With each twist and weave, she transformed your locks into an intricate masterpiece, her fingers moving with a practiced rhythm.

As she braided, her attention was drawn to a nearby pile of vibrant flowers. With an sense of which blossoms would harmonize best with your appearance, she delicately plucked a few yellow ones from the pile, their vibrant petals woven into your tresses.

“There,” she whispered, brushing her fingers through your braids. The subtle sound of beads brushing against each other accompanied the delicate sweep of her fingers. “You are ready.”

"Come on! I thought you could climb faster than this!" you playfully teased Neteyam, your laughter carrying through the night air as you both ascended the side of the hill. The moon hung overhead like a silver lantern, casting a soft glow on your surroundings. It was a clear night, the stars scattered across the sky like precious jewels.

Your fingers brushed against the rough texture of the rock as you found footholds, your muscles working in sync as you effortlessly moved upward. Neteyam was close behind, his own movements fluid and sure.

The air was cool against your skin, carrying the scent of the earth and the distant sounds of the ongoing crowning celebration. One that both of you had slipped away from in favor of some solitude.

You reached the top first and hauled yourself up, feeling the rush of accomplishment. But before you could fully revel in your victory, Neteyam, with his impressive agility, soared over the peak and hauled himself over. Running after you, he tugged at your tail, using it to pull you into his strong arms.

"Neteyam!" you laughed, the surprise of his actions quickly turning into delight as he showered you with kisses along your neck and cheek. In that moment of affection, you couldn't resist turning your head to capture his lips in a short, sweet kiss.

Neteyam smiled against your lips, the love in his actions unmistakable. With a tender touch, he then tucked his hands under your knees and shoulders, effortlessly lifting you into his arms. The muscles of his arms flexed, the strength in his embrace a reassurance of his protection of you.

"Where to?" Neteyam's voice was a soft murmur, his eyes locked onto yours as he waited for your instruction. You pointed toward a rocky path ahead, leading the way with a silent gesture.

Following your direction, Neteyam carried you along the path. It led you to a cave at the peak, a hidden gem adorned with the soft glow of radiant plants and flowers. The bioluminescent flora painted the space with an otherworldly light, casting a gentle, colorful illumination that danced across your skin. The air was tinged with the sweet fragrance of the herbs.

As Neteyam carried you into the cave, the glow intensified. The walls seemed to breathe with life, the colors shifting and changing in a mesmerizing display. The space felt like a sanctuary, a haven of beauty and tranquility that mirrored the depth of your connection.

“What is this place?” he questioned, wide eyes looking around in awe.

You snuggled against him, feeling a sense of belonging in his embrace.

"It is Vitraya Ramunong," you whispered, your voice filled with reverence. "The Tree of Souls."

Oh.

Neteyam's dark gaze shifted to you, his tongue running along his bottom lip. The intentions of you taking him here were crystal clear. Faintly, you could feel his nails digging deep into your skin and you bit back a smile.

As Neteyam walked further into the cave, he gently set you down to your feet. You started to walk away, but his firm grip on your hips stopped you, pulling you back against his strong front.

"Don't run away from me now," he murmured, his breath caressing your neck, sending delightful shivers down your spine. He turned you around with a tender touch, and his hand traced up the curve of your jaw, guiding your gaze to meet his intense, loving eyes.

And then, your lips met in a soft, sweet kiss. You could feel the depth of his emotions in the way his lips moved against yours, as if each kiss conveyed a thousand unspoken words.

As Neteyam pulled away slightly, his thumb lingered over your bottom lip, leaving you yearning for more of his affectionate touch. His other hand glided over your chest and now wrapped around your throat, but not with any intention of harm. It was a gentle gesture, one that made you feel cherished and protected. His thumb caressed the skin of your neck, golden gaze pouring over the stripes that lay there, admiring every inch of you.

"I have something for you," he finally murmured. He released his hold on you and reached into his pocket, retrieving the necklace he had crafted for you.

"Oh…Ma'Neteyam," you gasped, taking in every detail of the stunning gift.

Earthy brown tones formed the base, woven with intricate patterns and beads that told a story of his cultural roots—the Omatikayan style so unmistakably his. Yet, there was more to this gift than just his own heritage. Interspersed within the intricate weave were glimmers of polished crystal, a delicate incorporation of your own roots, a seamless merging of your two worlds.

As he clasped the necklace around your neck, his touch was gentle, his fingers lingering for a moment as he secured the knots. Tears welled up in your eyes. You could feel the beads and twine, cool against your skin, its weight a comforting reminder of his presence and affection.

“I hope it’s enough,” he murmured, his voice tinged with vulnerability as his hand traced the contours of the necklace, his touch sending shivers down your spine. “I… I don’t really know—”

With a soft click of your tongue, you silenced his self-doubt, your fingertips tenderly pressing against his lips. A gentle affirmation without words.

“It is enough," you reassured him. The corners of your lips lifted slightly, a soft smile that radiated your appreciation for his gesture. "It is more than enough."

Neteyam's own smile was a reflection of the relief that washed over him. He cupped your cheeks in his large, calloused hands, his touch both tender and possessive.

The warmth of his palms against your skin sent a shiver down your spine, a delicious contrast of roughness and gentleness. Gently, he tilted your head up, exposing your neck to his hungry eyes. Neteyam drank in the sight of the necklace—his necklace sat prettily across your skin, tongue curling around the point of a fang.

You, in turn, stared back up at him, emotions layed bare. As you fluttered your eyes, your thick lashes batted against your plump, flushed cheeks. The curve of the beads in your hair caught the ambient light of the cave, each bead gleaming like a star in the night sky. His eyes traced the path of those beads, capturing the radiance they added to your appearance.

And as his gaze drifted down to the attire Neytiri had allowed you to wear, his eyes recognized the intricate details of Omatikayan weaving that adorned your form. The woven tendrils of the top cascaded gently around your chest, its lilac hues blending harmoniously with the natural tinge of your skin. The top itself was a work of art, its design thoughtfully crafted to highlight your figure in the most flattering way.

Eywa. You drove him mad.

Unable to hold himself any longer, Neteyam guided the both of you down until you were kneeling in front of each other, the soft glow of the flora casting dancing shadows on your entwined figures. He pulled you into his lap, the heat of his body pressing against you, sending a shiver of excitement down your spine.

As he pulled you in closer, the texture of his inky braids brushed along your bare collarbones, accompanied by the warm sensation of his large palms resting against your flushed skin. His tail curled over your thigh, its gentle glide against your soft flesh forming a loose, comforting embrace that brought a rush of intimacy between you.

You couldn't help but stiffen slightly as you suddenly felt the tail trail up your thigh and wrap itself around your hips, flicking against the band of your loincloth. With shaky inhale, you returned your gaze to Neteyam's.

"Tsaheylu," he whispered, the word a delicate breath that carried a promise meant only for you, a secret shared in the quiet of that sacred space. His eyes held a mixture of hope and vulnerability as he waited for your response.

Speechless, you froze up in surprise, lips drawing flat, Neteyam's expression briefly twisted with a pang of dread, as if he feared you would reject him.

“Please, baby,” he begged, his voice a soft plea that held a world of longing.

With a deliberate slowness, his arm extended behind him, retrieving his kuru from where it rested. His fingers curled around the base, and the muscles in his bicep tensed with the weight of anticipation.

The purple tendrils of the kuru glowed with a soft luminescence, their ethereal light casting enchanting reflections against the cave's walls.

Your own fingers moved in response, mimicking his gesture, finding the familiar texture of your kuru. With a gentle pull, you brought the braid over your shoulder, its presence a reassuring weight against your hand.

The tendrils of both seemed to come alive, a dance of ephemeral energy unfolding before your eyes. They swayed like the intertwined branches of the sacred tree. Then, as if drawn together by a force, the tendrils began to weave, intertwining in a mesmerizing display of unity.

As the tendrils merged and embraced, an extraordinary rush of emotion surged through you both. It was as if a floodgate had opened, allowing a tide of feelings to wash over your senses. Electric energy pulsed through your bodies, as if the very essence of your beings was reaching out to connect, to become entwined.

"Fuck," Neteyam grit his teeth, burying his head into your chest. Shaking, your hands flew up to his bare back, palms pressed against the hard muscle and nails scratching at the surface of his skin.

In this shared moment, your heartbeats resonated as one, a rhythm of unity that pulsed through your chests. Breaths synchronized, you felt a deep bond. The barrage of emotions you both felt was overwhelming yet exhilarating, like a river of sensations flowing between you.

“Syulang…” With a shaky gasp, Neteyam leaned up and met your mouth in a deep, passionate kiss, his lips pressing against yours as if he had been waiting to taste you his entire life. He explored your mouth with his tongue, memorizing every curve and crevice, before gently sucking on your lower lip. You couldn't help but gasp in response, caught by the intensity of the moment.

Everything between you was heightened—the passion, the desire, the longing. Every touch, every glance, every shared heartbeat carried a weight that spoke of the depth of your feelings. The cave around you seemed to pulse with your shared energy as if you felt Eywa herself acknowledge the bond you had formed.

As you parted from the kiss, your eyes locked once more with Neteyam's, and you could see the raw desire and emotion swirling in his gaze. He appeared almost feral, his pupils wide with overwhelming passion, not missing a single twitch or movement in the intimate exchange between you both.

Unable to resist the pull, he pressed against you, causing you to fall back onto the cave floor, beads clicking as your hair spilled all around you. Crawling on top of you, Neteyam’s lips immediately chased yours once more in a primal hunger.

Lost in each other's touch, the world around you faded away, leaving only the echoing sounds of your breaths and the beating of your hearts, united as one in the sacred bond of Tsaheylu.

Amidst the lively celebration of Neteyam’s crowning ceremony, the music and laughter continued to weave a vibrant tapestry of joy. Jake and Neytiri found themselves seated together, basking in the warm ambiance of the party. The flickering flames from the central bonfire added to the enchantment of the night, casting a soft glow on their faces.

‘We are mated before Eywa, Ma’Neteyam’ your voice echoes in his mind. ‘I am with you forever now.’

Nearly a year had passed since they made the difficult decision to leave their clan. The abandonment of their home had left a wound which still carried a weight that was far from forgotten. The wound left behind by that loss was raw and gaping, still in the process of healing. However, here at Iuva’ri, they had been granted a fresh start. It was a place where they could breathe, live, and forge new connections without the constant shadow of war looming over them.

In the midst of the joy, a sudden hush fell over the crowd as Tuk rushed into the gathering, her tears glistening on her cheeks. Both Jake and Neytiri were quick to notice her distress, and they exchanged concerned glances before rushing to her side.

"Tuk?" Jake's voice held genuine worry as he gently wiped away her tears. "What's wrong, babygirl?"

< PREV | SERIES MASTERLIST | NEXT (soon) >

Between gasps, Tuk managed to speak through her tears, "It's Kiri!"

______________________________________

teehee congrats on the new husband pookies<33 Neytiri is our mother now

If you can't see your blog, that means I could tag you! :(Also, if any new people want to be tagged - please send me an ask in my inbox or reblog instead! Bc the sea of comments are too much across all the posts :,)

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sinsirellaxx · 2 months

Note

The anon who asked for the putting them in their place have amazing taste and your writing is so good too! ❤️ Please write a part 2 of the groveling part whenever you're free and have the inspiration! Of course, it's still up to you and if you're not feeling it, it's completely okay! 🎀

Also, remember to drink water and always stay hydrated! Your writing is amazing! <3

Slytherin Boys – You put them in your place and now they want you back

Warning: Toxic Boys alert!

A/N: Thank you so much, that is very sweet of you! Hope you're taking care of yourself as well! ❤️ Sorry this took me so long – life is a bit busy right now and sometimes my brain just isn't braining. 🙃

This is as much "groveling" I could do, because honestly – I don't see them toxic boys being truthful when apologizing for being too controlling or possessive. It is up to you: Would you forgive them?

Also: Not proofread!

Comments are greatly appreciated!

Mattheo …

… didn’t let you walk far. He willed the anger away as best as he could before rushing after you. He couldn’t believe it himself, but you had him wrapped around your finger and he hated it. But the thought of you leaving him and being with someone else seemed unbearable – it made him want to rip his hair out and scream until his lungs bled. Was he afraid you’d reject him after the attitude you just displayed? Yes! But if you did reject him, he'd just have to resort to more … drastic measures. He is a Riddle after all.

He quickly found you at the party and pulled you aside by your arm. You raised your eyebrows at him as you turned around, crossing your arms over your chest – the smirk from before long gone.

“Look. I’m sorry for telling you what to wear. You are right – it isn’t my place to do so.” Hell yeah it is. Mattheo thought, not liking the bitter aftertaste the words left in his mouth. They were all lies. But it was either that or probably losing you.

His eyes lit up when he noticed your shoulders relax – your arms uncrossing and now hanging by your sides.

“Please forgive me. You’re just absolutely gorgeous and I guess I suddenly felt so insecure – which is not like me.” Mattheo added, inwardly gagging at the nonsense and vulnerability he was displaying. But you didn’t need to know that.

Jackpot. He thought as he watched your face soften, a reassuring smile on your face as you told him that there was no reason for him to be insecure.

Theodore …

… sighed defeatedly as you immediately pushed his hands off your body. He was caught off guard when you suddenly pushed him back out and slammed the door into his face.

“What the – come one!” He groaned, the lust from before being replaced by frustration. He tried turning the doorknob, but you had apparently locked it. Theodore rolled his eyes – he could always use his wand to unlock it. Leaning his forehead against the wooden surface of your door he spoke loud enough for you to hear.

“Bella, please open the door. Aren’t you overreacting?”

He was met with silence.

“Come on, open up and let’s talk about it.” He sighed heavily as he pressed his hear against the door.

But he was met with silence again.

“I was just worried about you, love.” Theo spoke louder, his patience wearing thin as he knocked loudly on your door. He heard rustling behind the door but instead of unlocking the door you turned on some music. Loud music.

“That’s it.” Theodore grumbled under his breath before taking a step back. However, instead of using his wand – like any other student would have done – he chose to kick down the door. After a few tries he managed to break the lock, kicking the door open and walking into your room. He could fix the door later.

You stared at him in disbelief, your eyes wandering from your ruined door to his stoic face. He was panting slightly – obviously out of breath from the force he had to put into kicking the door down.

“Will you listen to me now?” He asked with his brow raised.

You crossed your arms defensively in front of your chest while avoiding eye contact. You wouldn’t give up that easily. Narrowing his eyes slightly, Theodore moved closer to you, his hands ghosting over your hips before slowly pulling you closer to him.

“Look, I’m really sorry for suffocating you with my love,” He murmured softly, his voice laced with hidden sarcasm, “I’ll stop annoying you with all the questioning. But I want you to know, that I’m just worried.” Theodore finished, his grip on your hips slightly tightening when you finally look up at him.

“Even Hogwarts isn’t as safe anymore.” His voice broke slightly towards the end of his sentence, his eyes downcast as his shoulders sagged. He knew you’d fall for it. You could never resist him if he acted so vulnerable in front of you – you’d have to hug him. And just as expected you immediately flung your arms around him, pulling him down to hug him. Your face pressed into the crook of his neck as you breathed in his scent with one of your hands combing through his hair. Theodore smirked as he tightened his hold on you, listening to you apologize for being such a diva and promising him to always tell him about your whereabouts – because he was right. Hogwarts wasn’t as safe anymore. Your boyfriend knew best, and he definitely knew how to play you like an instrument.

Lorenzo …

… was seething in his room. His mind swirling with what-ifs as he thought about you and Potter. His jaw clenched, gritting his teeth as he thought of the male. He hated him so much. He hated him even more because he dared to befriend you – the love of his life. His girlfriend. He scoffed as he thought about your words. Annoyed that he couldn’t control you – that he couldn’t convince you to quit talking to that damned boy. He wanted to pay you back for it, make you suffer just as he was now. He wanted to see you cry and beg for him to love you. Only you. But he knew that whatever he had in mind would just push you away and right into that stupid Potter’s arms. He’d go ballistic if that happened.

He'd have to apologize. No matter how much he didn’t want to – because there was no reason to apologize, he had done nothing wrong – he knew that was what you wanted.

Letting himself fall on his bed he closed his eyes. He’d handle it tomorrow – he had to calm down first.

The next day Enzo went to Hogsmeade to buy you roses and your favorite sweets before making his way back to school. He kept going over the apology-speech he had thought of before going to sleep – hoping he’d not mess it up.

When he’d finally find you somewhere in the hallways he’d grow tense: There was still the lingering fear of you rejecting his apology. However, as soon as your eyes connected his shoulders relaxed slightly – you were so beautiful. Clearing his throat, he stopped two feet away from you, gripping the flowers in his hands tightly as he took in your appearance. You looked sad.

“I’m sorry for the way I acted yesterday. That was not fair of me at all.” Lorenzo apologized; his voice soft as he frowned slightly.

“I’ve been thinking about it the whole night …” Oh he had – he’d been thinking about all the ways he could make the Potter disappear.

“I feel horrible for the things I’ve said.” No, he didn’t. He still strongly believes he’s right.

“I have no right to tell you what to do and who to befriend.” Unfortunately, not. But he’d try to change that.

“Will you please forgive me?”

Draco …

… felt pathetic as he stood before you. His head hung low and his arms uselessly hanging at his sides – just as useless as he felt in that moment. He felt your eyes burn into him as you took in his appearance – you must be shocked to see him this disheveled. This broken. Your eyes softened slightly, your hands itching to lift his head and embrace him. He looked like he had been through hell. When he heard your soft voice uttering his name he dared to look up, his eyes red from the nightmares that haunted him in the nights. You couldn’t help it – you lifted your hands to cup his cheeks, your thumbs drawing small circles on his cheeks. You were close to tears.

“I’m so sorry …” He mumbled, his voice barely above a whisper as he averted his eyes again. “I’m so ashamed for the things I’ve said …” His voice broke, his whole body shaking from the sob that forced its way through his lips. Your heart shattered into tiny pieces – your poor boyfriend. You suddenly felt stupid for being friends with Potter and the rest, knowing well that he suffered so much because of them. Shaking your head you pulled him into your arms, hugging him tightly as you patted his back reassuringly, telling him how sorry you were for being so inconsiderate. For putting them above him.

Draco returned the hug hesitantly, desperately clinging onto your sweater as he cried into your hair with a small smile on his lips. Everything was going according to plan.

Blaise …

… wasn’t so sure anymore. Three days had passed, and you had still not come to him – neither did you reply to any of his messages. With a heavy sigh he stood up from his bed: He’d have to make it up to you, there was no other way around it.

Finding you was rather easy – he had gone to your dorm-room first. Knocking on your door he waited for a few seconds before you opened it, clad in joggers and his hoodie. You immediately frowned when you saw him, pushing the door close. Blaise reacted quickly and put his foot between the door and the doorframe.

“I want to apologize.” He rushed out, pulling his foot back when you opened the door again.

“I’m really sorry for what I did. I know you hate it when I get violent and I’m sorry I acted that way. Really – please, I’ll change.” He whispered brokenly as he stared deep into your eyes.

Tom …

… Riddle didn’t beg or ask for forgiveness. Never. But after a whole week of you ignoring him, he has had enough. He apparently needed you more than he let on – and more then you needed him, which bothered him tremendously. He had tried everything: Read your mind, manipulate your thoughts – he even made Snape partner up with you for a project. But nothing seemed to work. He couldn’t see into your mind, and you skipped potions to avoid him as well. He had to talk to you. With clenched fists and a tight jaw, he approached you after dinner when you were alone.

“Why have you been ignoring me?” He questioned. His voice causing you to flinch and spin around to face him. You looked slightly nervous when you noticed him. Good. Tom thought. You didn’t answer him right away, which further added to his frustration. He wasn’t known to be a patient man. “Do you think you can survive without me?” He asked cockily, with his hand in his pockets – his fingers playing with his wand. Just in case.

You scoffed at his attitude. Even now, when he should be apologizing, he was nothing but arrogant. Rolling your eyes at him you told him to leave you alone – telling him it was over before taking a few steps back. You were afraid to turn your back towards him. And right you were – but you underestimated him. For he didn’t need you to turn his back towards him to take action. He whipped out his wand and grit out the imperio spell with a small flick of his wrist. You never stood a chance. Your eyes turned a misty color as they watched the tall male step closer to you. His free hand shooting out to softly caress your cheek before gripping your chin tightly.

“Foolish little girl. There is no escape. You will stay with me and obey me … no matter what.”

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cal-flakes · 11 months

Note

reader making rafe sleep on the couch, ultimately begging him to get back in bed w her 😭😭💗💗

╰┈➤ making rafe sleep on the couch

warnings: swearing.

summary: a petty argument leads to y/n making rafe sleep on the couch, and later regrets it.

“you were the last one to have the keys y/n” rafe grumbled as she stomped around their living room, searching frantically.

“yes, and i put them right there! so you’ve obviously moved them” she snapped back, pointing to the glass bowl on the oak coffee table

they’d been arguing back and forth for a few minutes now. y/n was having a bad week, she’d come on her period a few days prior, and now the cravings were settling in.

she was upstairs in bed with a heating pad when the urge for ice cream invaded her mind, specifically chocolate.

she’s sent rafe a text asking him to check if they had any, but unfortunately he’d eaten the last of it. queue argument number one;

“i bought some the other day rafe, where did it go?” she questioned, her face was flushed and twisted.

“i ate it” he stated, nonchalance in his tone. craning her neck to face him, she glared at him as if he’d suddenly grown two heads.

“what do you mean you ate it?” she spat, unreasonable anger building up inside her chest.

“i mean i ate it princess, i’ll get you some more tomorrow..” he compromised, hoping she’d take it.

he hated period week, dreaded it actually. he did his best to soothe her pain and wipe her tears when necessary, but he was definitely target of the week, every time.

he knew it wasn’t her intention, and that she was just emotional, but once she found something upsetting or angering, she honed in.

“no rafe, i wanted it now!” she whined.

standing up, he sighed to himself. “i’ll go get you some more, okay angel?”

“no, it doesn’t matter, i’ll get it myself” she sneered.

and this is where it got a bit heated, suddenly, y/n couldn’t find the car keys.

“i haven’t moved the keys baby, you must’ve just misplaced them..” he cooed, attempting to stroke her face soothingly but instead she pulled away.

“i know where i put them rafe!” she yelled, tears welling her eyes. he pinched the bridge of his nose, sighing.

“it’s not my fault that you lost the keys y/n!” he groaned, falling back into the couch.

she stared at him, mouth agape. “you know what? for that, you can sleep down here tonight!” she bellowed, heading back upstairs.

before he had a chance to reason with her, he heard the bedroom door slam.

a couple hours went by, and he was flat out on the couch, curled up with the throw blanket.

y/n however had been tossing and turning all night, unnerved by the lack of warmth next to her.

they hadn’t slept separately since they moved in together, and y/n was struggling.

she was so used to rafe’s hands tangled in her hair as he snored softly beside her, used to waking up to her face being peppered with kisses.

whimpering slightly, her eyes brimmed with tears for the third time that day. deciding to drop the stubborn act, she slid out from under the covers and padded downstairs. the house was completely dark aside from the television rafe had forgotten to turn off.

as she entered the living room, she creeped over to where he lay, fast asleep on the couch, and prodded him lightly. “rafe..wake up..”

stirring, a line of gibberish escaped his mouth, eyes groggy. “y/n?” he questioned, squinting his eyes.

“can i sleep with you?” she whispered, pride faltering. he chuckled before moving over as much as he could, opening his arms for her to crawl in beside him.

“you miss me?” he smirked, sleepiness laced in his gravelly voice.

“don’t get cocky, you still moved my keys..” she joked, shuffling closer to him while he spooned her.

#rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x fem!reader #outer banks #rafe cameron #outerbanks rafe #obx #rafecameron #rafe obx #soft!rafe cameron

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stsgooo · 6 months

Text

Clumsiness.

✩࿐ summary: maomao notices that the eunuch's behavior is odd recently. she's set on discovering the root of the cause.

warning(s): idiots in love, slight angst, mentions of bullying, fluffy, maomao pov. wc; 3.1k

pairing(s): jinshi/fem!reader

a/n: binge watched all of tad last night and wanted to write smth for jinshi just because i have my weaknesses. i don't know exactly what this is except random rambles. anywayyy, i haven't read the manga yet so please no spoilers :3

m.list ao3

THERE'S VARIOUS THINGS THAT MAOMAO SIMPLY DOESN'T CARE FOR. The uncomfortable mornings where it's too chilly, the work she catches after one of the servants loves her ideas, and idle chatter that comes with silence. However, the thing she doesn't care for the most is when Eunuch Jinshi decides to make his random and surprise appearances.

It usually brought trouble and a headache for her. His smiles and violet eyes staring into her very soul. She never looked forward to them as it always accompanied some random job in another part of the palace she simple didn't like. Or he would ask of her some impossible task that not even the gods could grant him. Maomao could do without Jinshi's behavior.

However, she could easily recognize when he wasn't acting himself. On this day particularly, she was especially aware of Jinshi's lack of excitement.

She was called and pulled aside from her duty's in the Jade Pavilion to report to Jinshi's quarters. She was quick and made little pause in her stride over. A simple routine that they both silently agreed to. He would call and she would make her way over as quickly as possible.

It was when she arrived, she realized things were not to routine.

Jinshi was laying face flat against his desk, unmoving except for his breathing. Usually, he'd be sat up, smirk on his lips, and his legs crossed as he regarded her smugly. But now, it was like she wasn't even in the room as he made small groaning sounds of disdain, his fingers tangled into his tresses as he gripped his scalp.

He was definitely not acting like himself from the bat.

"Xiaomao, thank you for coming on such short notice." Gaoshun greeted her with a small bow, offering her a sympathetic glance as he turned his attention to Jinshi. "Jinshi-sama had a matter he'd like you to take care of."

Maomao raised her eyebrows, eyes cutting back to Jinshi who remained unmoved. Is he going to present the matter himself? She thought, watching as Gaoshun inched closer, nudging the younger man's shoulder with his elbow. He seems quite the mess.

"Apothecary," Jinshi's voice was muffled as he spoke, his head still tucked into his arms. Maomao looked to Gaoshun who just sighed heavily, ducking his head. "A servant from the Garnet Pavilion has fallen ill, I'd like for you to help her feel better."

"What's her symptoms?" Maomao asked, eyes watching the pathetic man flatly.

He tensed, his head moving to peek at her from between his arms. "I fear this is more a matter of the mind."

She frowned. "I can't cure the mind, Jinshi-sama."

He finally pushed himself to sit up, an indignant pout on his lips. "I thought you could do anything." He retorted smartly.

"I never said that."

Honestly, this man asked too much of her too quickly. It was enough that he asked her to solve murders of high ranking military officials, but it felt a little much to ask her to cure some girl's mental ailments. A random girl who had probably contributed to the near death of Lady Lihua at that. Maomao already felt a vague frustration fill her at the thought. Maybe it was one of the girls she had the pleasure intimidating.

She was going to decline when she spotted the look in his eyes. Not the flirtatious or rather perverted glint it usually had, but a desperate one.

"Can you at least try?" He almost sounded defeated, his shoulders hunched and eye bags heavy.

Maomao still felt the overwhelming urge to give him a hard time. "Try what, exactly?"

He released a frustrated grumble, fingers pinching the bridge of his nose. "Maybe lend an ear, or offer some type of comfort? Anything that will possibly ease her nerves." He waved a flippant hand around, eyebrows knitted together. "It's making me wo... it's making Lady Lihua unsettled."

Maomao couldn't help the interest that came with his unspoken words. He was worried? It wasn't uncommon, nor did it seem that he would hide his concern for others. But the mere fact that he had corrected himself and tried to cover it up, piqued her curiosity and interest.

Either way, she had no choice.

Maomao tucked her hands into her sleeves, bowing. "I can make an attempt. Now, if you'll excuse me." She turned away, barely missing Jinshi's hopeful and beaming expression. She was about to exit when she happened to glance towards the sitting area, where a tea set sat, broken and contents seeping into the floor. Her eyebrows raised. "You'll carpet is going to stain."

She paid no mind to the loud groan and thud of Jinshi's head as she exited.

It took Maomao a while to find the girl that had Jinshi worried and she had learned quite a bit about the worrisome girl while on her search.

She had been in the palace for a long time, since she was a young child. Her work had mostly consisted of cleaning clothes and mending. Until she had caught the attention of Lady Lihua a few months ago while she was in recovery. Supposedly, she had started to bring an arrangement of flowers whenever she brought clothes. The kindness hadn't gone unnoticed. She had supposedly been accepted into Lady Lihua's personal servants. Much to the chagrin of the other servants.

It didn't take a genius to detect the disdain and disgust in the servants voices when Maomao had inquired about her.

She talks to herself more than anyone else, stated one with an eyeroll.

Her routine is more important than Lady Lihua's wishes. Our poor lady. Mourned another.

She's so on edge, it's really easy to get her worked up. It's not our fault if she breaks something. Snapped another.

General consensus, this servant was a problem.

However, it was what Lady Lihua said herself that caught Maomao's attention.

She had stumbled across the concubine during her search, the woman flanked by two of her servants. She looked to enjoying a pleasant day and appeared slightly happy to see Maomao, going as far to inquire what she was doing over in her pavilion. When Maomao informed her of her task, she was interested to see the small pinch between her brow.

Ah, Y/N, I haven't seen her much today. I sent her to help with mending clothes. She's kind, just... I hope.... Well, I hope you can find her and bring her back. Lady Lihua offered little else to guide Maomao, but she could see the vague concern, the worry in the woman's eyes. She also saw that disgust in her companions eyes.

Who exactly was this servant?

Maomao found herself in the washing area. It was mostly silent, most of the girls either having dinner, or in bed. She made her way to the back where one of the few stragglers sat alone, sniffling as she scrubbed away at a stained robe...

A robe that looked oddly similar to Jinshi's.

In all honesty, she wasn't sure how to approach this. As she spotted the red shamed cheeks and the tears that silently and boldly made their way down the woman's cheeks, Maomao usually had something psychical to cure. An aliment that weighed heavily on their health, that was life or death. She could make a medicine for that. A drink, a food, a cream-- something that would satisfy the monster resting in someone's body.

The mind, though, the mind simply was a territory that Maomao never touched. Much too difficult, much too complicated, it was unknown territory. She couldn't see things from their point of view.

Just try lending an ear.

Maomao cleared her throat, feeling a speck of sympathy as she watched the girl tense, head snapping over to stare back with wide eyes. "Hi, are you the servant from the Garnet Pavilion?"

If possible, her eyes widened more, her hands clutching the robe to her chest. "Y-Yes..." she uttered, watching Maomao closely. "You're that apothecary everyone's been talking about..."

Not a question, but an observation.

Said apothecary nodded in return, "Yes."

The girl shook her head, "I'm not injured! I swear, I-I was foolish and if I was injured, then I would surely deserve it!" Her face was a deep crimson, her lips trembling, and eyes watering. It was obvious she was attempting desperately to push down the tears, but failing miserably. "I-I'm quite alright!"

"You don't look it." Maomao responded back flatly. "Jinshi-sama sent me."

The girl looked appalled, her back straightening and the tears falling freely now. "J-Jinshi?!" She exclaimed, clutching the stained robe against her chest, aghast and sickly looking as she panted. "O-Oh, I've done it now. I've humiliated myself! I'm going to be punished! Jinshi didn't deserve that! I'm so sorry."

Maomao blinked at her, eyebrows raised high at the reaction. She didn't entirely blame the girl for reacting so brashly at the mention of Jinshi. She would probably do the same if she was having a horrible day and he'd been brought up. Possibly the only person she wouldn't want to hear about as she's actively in the throes of a breakdown of some sort.

She walked forward, sitting down beside her as the girl seemed to continue her one sided conversation with herself. Her eyes wide and unrelenting as she stared at the ground below. Maomao watched her with a dent between her brow, vaguely fascinated by the panic and mostly disturbed by the anger towards herself. The mini glare not directed to anyone except herself.

She'd seen women be harsh on themselves. Seen what it could do to a person. Maomao could see it in the girl beside her now. The edge of a line that she wasn't sure if she should cross.

"I-I just...." The poor girl trailed off, her hands falling back to her lap as she stared at the robe. "I'm so clumsy.... and terribly embarrassing.... and I-I was just trying to pour some tea, then...oh, how pathetic."

"It was an accident, wasn't it?" Maomao asked softly, watching the girl's reaction closely.

She seemed to remember Maomao was with her, blinking, her face growing a shade darker. "What?"

"Whatever you did, it was an accident, wasn't it?" She repeated.

The girl clenched her jaw, looking away once again. "It's always an accident. I never do anything right. The Emperor is bound to notice and then I'll be punished because I'm so--"

"Jinshi-sama didn't send me to punish you or to check if you should be." The girl blinked, staring at her with wide eyes now. Maomao could see the barely concealed shock in her eyes, the way she seemed to relax slightly. The apothecary sighed heavily, turning her attention elsewhere. "He doesn't seem the type to punish anyone for a little mistake. Especially, when he's the same..."

The last part was uttered to herself and the girl didn't seem to pick it up as she pressed her lips together. A contemplative look on her expression. "I-I know, but.... still, I feel so guilty. I've put such a heavy burden onto Jinshi, convincing Lihua-sama to take me in... to not complain too harshly... I never wanted this..."

Maomao wouldn't even try to understand the broken speech, instead her mind was focused on that little slip. Jinshi convinced Lady Lihua to take this girl in? A extreme kindness. A extreme kindness that would allow this girl to make mistakes, to try her hardest and fail, and not suffer extreme consequences. Maomao couldn't help the suspicious kick in her chest. As she stared at the rambling girl. Why would Jinshi do that for her as an eunuch? How did he have that type of pull? Or, more correctly, what did he have over Lady Lihua to pull something like this off?

Her attention diverted to the robe and she huffed-- it's was Jinshi's. She was the cause of the tea mess. The cause of Jinshi's red face, his low mood, and the worry on his face.

Could he, perhaps..... Oh, what a development for a eunuch.

"Are they cruel to you?" Maomao cut into her rambles once again.

"Who?"

"The other servants. They can be cruel."

There was a prolonged silence. Maomao didn't dare interfere or break with the concentration. Her thoughts were wild and she was trying to grasp one that would benefit exactly what the apothecary was searching for. A string of thought that was sensical and helpful.

"Yes... so cruel," her lips wobbled again, she sniffled and tried to push the emotions away. "I didn't even do anything and they were so cruel. I tried telling Jinshi, but he's done... done so much for me, I can't throw that away. I can't take advantage of his kindness."

"Even if it was kindness now, how is feeling like this any type of comfort? Or kindness?" Maomao stood up, waving a hand. "You don't have to feel like this. Like you have to suffer for his feelings. If you're close, tell him that you liked your prior job, or ask for another."

The girl blinked slowly, lazily, a new exhaustion in her eyes as she regarded the other. "W-What's your name?"

She straightened. "Maomao." She bowed.

The girl stood, her hands tucked into her sleeves, she bowed in return. "Thank you, Maomao. It's been my pleasure to meet you."

Things seemed to return to normal, the routine was back in place, and Maomao hadn't been tasked with taking care of crying servants. Her conversation with Jinshi afterwards had been short and straight to the point.

Did you speak with her? Jinshi had been sitting at his desk pleasantly, ignoring the overwrought expression on Gaoshun's face.

Yes. Maomao had answered, eyeing Gaoshun oddly as he shook his head.

Jinshi perked up, And? What did she say?

I believe she's going to speak to you directly when she has the chance, Jinshi-sama. She informed him instantly.

Jinshi had beamed in a way that made Maomao weary, watching as he happily threw himself from his chair and up, already walking towards the door. Well, I'll just find her myself! Thank you, Apothecary!

She didn't get to say anything in return as he vanished around the door. Gaoshun offered his sympathies before running to follow the man out.

Maomao was just glad to have things back to normal. That's what she thought about as she approached Jinshi's quarters. Normalcy was welcomed and her heart was happy to return to things she knew. Medicine and the frolicking in the mini patches of growth she could take herbs from. Things were normal.

As Maomao approached, she was skeptical to enter as she heard a crash.

Okay, maybe not entirely normal.

She knocked on the door, hoping to hear that Jinshi was busy, but the door was opened and Gaoshun stood there with a thin smile.

"Xiaomao, thank you for coming." He bowed and stepped aside to let her inside.

When Maomao entered, she was half tempted to turn back around and leave.

Jinshi's face was stuck in a frozen state of shock, a crimson shade and his jaw dropped. He was sitting on the couch and his hands were up. In front of him, on her knees, was Y/N, frantically rubbing at his robe while apologizing profusely. She didn't sound like she was crying, but still sounded extremely embarrassed.

"I'm so sorry, Jinshi! My shoes are a tad big-- No, I'm not making an excuse!" She frantically tried to explain, pulling back to stare up at Jinshi with wide eyes. He remained unmoved, just making small noises of distress. "Jinshi, are you alright...?"

"I-I..I..." Jinshi just blinked at the wall across from him.

Maomao turned to Gaoshun, expression flat, "Can I come back later?"

Gaoshun looked ready to respond when Y/N spun around, her expression pulled up with delight and a beaming smile on her face. "Maomao!" She left Jinshi to his shock to wrap her arms around the younger girl (by one year). A tight hug that was unrelenting and conveying her exact emotions of pure elation. "My savior!"

Savior? Maomao thought as she blinked, arms stuck at her side. What is she even doing here?

She pulled back, placing her hands on her shoulder's, squeezing. "Thank you so much, Maomao! If it weren't for you, I wouldn't be blessed!" She continued on with her delight.

"Blessed?" Maomao audibly questioned, eyebrows furrowed and raised.

She nodded in response, smiling happily as she clutched onto Maomao's hands. "Yes! You gave me the confidence to tell Jinshi about my unhappiness! He's allowing me to work at his attending maid." She informed gracefully, sounding more happy and carefree than she had in the washing area the weeks prior.

Maomao wouldn't admit it, but it made her lips twitch upwards.

Y/N suddenly paled, turning back around. "Oh, Jinshi, I'll get something to clean up with!" And she darted out the room before Jinshi could give any type of response.

Maomao turned her attention to Jinshi with a tilted head, finding great amusement in his embarrassment. "You must be really fond of her if you gave her a job here." She observed.

If possible, Jinshi's complexion darkened further, his posture straightening. "Pardon?" He squawked, eyes wide as they stared at the younger girl.

She didn't understand why he was acting like she had said something scandalous. It wasn't uncommon for someone to grow fond of another's presence. Even if they were stripped of their manhood and promised to the Emperor for life. Y/N was kind enough and Maomao assumed they were friends of some kind to have Jinshi calling in favors of some kind.

Still... his reaction...

"You two seem like good friends." Maomao clarified.

A weight seemed to lift of his shoulders as he leaned back into the couch. "Yes, I suppose we are." His voice was a mere utter, soft and distant. It appeared that he was contemplating something forgotten or something that he often thought about but pushed into the back of his mind.

Y/N reentered with a cloth and small basin of water. She returned to Jinshi's side who stared at her with a blush and wide eyes. The attention he gave her was close and unwavering. No type of falter and no distraction that could possibly take away his attention. She appeared completely oblivious as she scrubbed away at the stain on his robe resting on his thigh.

Maomao narrowed her eyes on the glitter in Jinshi's eye, ready to make a comment, when Gaoshun placed a hand on her shoulder. "I'll inform you of the favor, Xiaomao." And he tugged her away.

However, Maomao thought endlessly about the expression on Jinshi's face. The kindness he exhibited for the girl much too clumsy for her own good. The tenderness he regarded her with. It was almost as if... Well, that couldn't be right.

It was almost as if Jinshi liked Y/N. In a more than friendly way.

Maomao scoffed at the thought, laying down in her bed. Her pa always said she was too speculative. Much too whimsical.

The man was an eunuch after all.

#✩࿐ t writes #jinshi #maomao #the apothecary diaries #jinshi x reader #jinshi x you #jinshi x y/n #the apothecary diaries x reader #the apothecary diaries x you #the apothecary diaries imagine #the apothecary diaries fic #jinshi fic

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wileys-russo · 7 months

Note

Can you do a blurb about tooney where reader is shorter than her.

sorry seems to be the hardest word II e.toone

"oh for fuck sakes." you grumbled to yourself, hunting around for your training jacket but unable to find it. "ella!" you yelled at the top of your lungs, unsure where your girlfriend actually was in your shared home, head still buried in your wardrobe as footsteps raced upstairs.

"ya called baby?" the girl appeared as her thick accent sounded behind you. "where is my jacket?" you asked her seriously, raising an eyebrow to show you weren't messing about. the smug smile on her face was all the confirmation you needed that she was up to her usual tricks.

"don't know love. have ya properly looked for it?" she asked innocently and your eyes narrowed. "we needed to leave five minutes ago and i am not in the mood. where the fuck is my jacket el?" you warned, your girlfriend gesturing for you to step aside with a shoo of her hands.

reaching up she grabbed it from the very top shelf making you sigh, deeply unamused. the taller girls most favourite way to wind you up was to pick on you for your height, specifically to hide things where she knew you'd need her help to get them down.

"now what would ya do without me hmm?" the mancunian grinned, holding your jacket out of your reach as you grabbed for it. "ah ah ah. now say thank you baby, i love ya." ella teased, stretching her arm up higher as you huffed.

"thank you baby, now give me my fucking jacket or i swear to god i'll kill you in your sleep." you smiled dangerously through gritted teeth, ella dropping the jacket on your head in response.

"short and fiesty. that's how i like my women!" the girl smacked your bum with a whistle as you were distracted with your jacket, the murderous look sent her way having her sprinting out of your bedroom.

"come on love! god you're always makin us so late."

at the training grounds, it would seem that this morning was only the beginning as ella continued to go out of her way to mess with you.

"you are joking me." you grumbled under your breath, returning from the bathroom to see your boots had magically gone missing from where they were previously sat under your cubby.

"maz did you see where ella put my boots?" you sighed to the older woman who sent you a sympathetic smile. "i only just arrived, stuck in bloody traffic, sorry babe." mary apologised as you nodded in understanding, spotting ella speaking with maya on the other side of the room.

"toone!" you growled in warning, maya seeing the clearly pissed off look on your face and hurrying away as you stormed over toward them. your girlfriend however seemed only amused at your reaction, spreading out with her hands behind her head and a smile on her face.

"ya called?" she sung out staring up at you. "where are my boots ella?" you asked, staring at her with a pained expression. "now why would i know that love? are ya losing your things again?" the midfielder pouted sarcastically making your blood boil further.

"go and get them, now." you demanded, pointing to your cubby as she remained unmoved and you heard the training staff blow the whistle to signal you were all expected on the pitch.

"ella!" you repeated with a slight whine when she didn't move. "tooney! get your girls boots, everyone knows you obviously hid them mate." mary stuck up for you, clapping your back with her gloved hand and pointing menacingly at your girlfriend before she filed out after everyone else.

"i think ya should cheer up baby." ella teased, placing a sloppy kiss on your cheek and sprinting out of the change rooms as you yelled after her. "the fucking cheek of her." you looked over to your cubby and from a distance were finally able to see your boots placed on top of your locker.

with a defeated groan you stood up on the bench of your cubby, but even stretching on the tips of your toes you were still unable to reach your boots.

glancing around desperately you jumped down and grabbed a spare corner flag pole from the training room, sprinting back and successfully knocking your boots down with it.

putting them on in record time you hurried out to the pitch, the rest of the girls already split up and having commenced the mornings first drills.

"y/l/n seven minutes late means seven laps. go!" marc called out as your body crumpled but you nodded, most of your friends sending you sympathetic looks.

you knew ella would be one of them but your body burning with anger at her you refused to look her direction, starting your laps and cursing the mancunian responsible to the high heavens under your breath.

if ella hadn't already figured out after your laps that you were pissed off with her, the fact you'd refused to look or speak to her at all since had really solidified that she had taken things too far.

all day she had been calling out encouragement your way, trying over and over to get back in your good books to no avail and much to the amusement of your teammates.

"dog house for you tonight then tooney." millie teased as you all finished for the day, headed back toward the change room as you walked ahead with mary and hayley.

"yeah mate give us a call once you're locked out, you can crash on my couch." maya smacked her on the back of the head as ella shoved her away with a dirty look, only furthering both girls amusement as the teasings continued.

"you can walk home." you spoke bluntly to your girlfriend, kit bag already slung over your shoulder not bothering to shower as you swiftly exited the change room, the whistles and jeerings sent ella's way causing her face to burn bright red.

"nope! you give her some space, i'll drive you home in a bit." mary grabbed the back of the younger girls top as she grabbed her things to hurry after you, pushing her back to sit down with a firm look as ella tried to protest but fell silent, instead sulking in the corner like a scorned child.

"go on then, grovelling time." mary pulled up out the front of your shared home, nodding for ella to get out as she took a deep breath, thanking the older girl and slipping out of the car.

she fumbled around with her keys, trying to open the door but frowning as it stayed closed.

"oh fucking come on." she kicked at the wood with a frustrated huff realising you'd locked the deadbolt, which only your keys had a copy of. "baby come on! let us in." ella whined, knocking loudly on the door and hearing footsteps come her way.

"oh sorry i'm too short to reach it." you spat bitterly, crossing your arms and glaring at the closed door as ella sighed, head thumping softly at the wood.

"love i know i took it way too far. please let me in to make it up to ya!" ella begged, flowers in hand ready to give to you that she'd made mary stop and allow her to buy.

"oh sorry can't hear you? your head is just so much further away from me since you're so much taller. hope the welcome mat makes a comfy pillow!" you mocked, and ella groaned louder as your footsteps retreated away from the door.

slumping down against the door with a huff ella wracked her brain on how she could try to get back in your good graces. she came up with one idea, but it was shit.

however unable to come up with anything else, she had no choice but to go for it.

so dropping her bag by her feet she cleared her throat and began to count herself in, you listening from a few feet away with a frown. unsure if she was trying to rile herself up to kick the door down, something you'd not put past her.

but much to your shock, she instead began to sing.

"what've I gotta do to make you love me? what've I gotta do to make you care? what do I do when lightning strikes me?" ella began to belt out the lyrics to sorry seems to be the hardest word to say by none other than elton john.

"oh my god." you mumbled to yourself, unable to stop the smile which grew on your face as ella continued, confidence growing as she sang louder and louder with each verse.

"it's sad, so sad why can't we talk it over? when, it seems to me that sorry seems to be the hardest word!" you heard her pause, as if waiting for the door to unlock or you to say something before she continued.

"what do I do to make you want me? what I got to do to be heard? what do I say when it's all over? sorry seems to be the hardest word!"

"baby are ya really gonna make me sing the whole song? the neighbors are out watchin me!" ella paused to yell with a groan.

"yes! keep going." you called back as you heard her sigh and continue, again getting louder and somehow more and more off tone with each line.

"what have I got to do? what have I got to do? when sorry seems to be the hardest word!" ella finished, carrying the final word on for at least thirty seconds before falling silent.

with an amused smile you shook your head and undid the deadbolt, swinging the door open to face her.

"thank you! she'll be here all week." you called out to your neighbours over her shoulder, waving at them on their front lawn with a grin as their laughter grew and ellas face flushed bright red.

grabbing your hand she gently pushed you back inside, kicking her bag in and firmly closing the door with a relieved sigh.

"did we learn our lesson then?" you enquired, crossing your arms over your chest and raising an eyebrow. "yes. no more hidin things!" ella sighed with a shake of her head.

"i am very very very very very sorry baby. forgive us?" ella asked hopefully, holding out the flowers to you which you accepted with a nod. "you are cooking dinner, cleaning up afterwards, giving me a massage and doing all the laundry tomorrow." you warned, ella nodding eagerly before she pounced on you, pulling you into a passionate smooch and mumbling yet another apology against your lips.

leaving her to take her trainers off and unpack her bag you made your way to the kitchen to find something to put the flowers in, popping them in a vase and grabbing out some juice to drink. though as you opened the cupboard to grab out a glass your eyes narrowed and your jaw clenched.

"ella why the fuck are all the cups and mugs on the very top shelf!?"

#ella toone x reader #woso x reader #woso #ella toone #engwnt #woso blurbs #woso imagine #woso fanfics

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demonicbaby666 · 6 months

Text

A Job Offer

One Shot | Criminal Minds Masterlist | Masterlists

Fandom: Criminal Minds

Pairing: Jennifer Jareau x fem!Reader

Genre: Angst and Smut

Words: 5.2k+

Warnings: 18+, minors DNI, NSFW, smut, cursing, fingering, oral, overstimulation, strap on use (JJ!recieiving)

Summary: Despite you and JJ not being a couple, you do share nights together, nights that are not so innocent. However, when a job offer comes your way, you have to decide whether it'd be better to stay at the BAU or accept your new position, and like it or not, JJ has a part to play in this choice.

A/n: Hi, the kids don’t exist in this timeline. Also the timeline doesn’t timeline cause JJ ain’t really liaison, but I care not. Also, leaving it on a sorta cliffhanger without a part 2 cause I’m mean xoxo

"I'm going to cum!" JJ screamed up to the ceiling, her hips moving erratically to and from the mattress, "Fuck baby, so good."

You were fucking her just how she liked it, dirty, rough and hard, pounding the strap in and out of her so fast it became a blur of skin slapping against skin, the dildo only appearing in rapid intervals. JJ's hands were encouraging your every thrust, her nails etching their distinct curved signature into the supple skin of your ass.

"Do it," you encouraged, soaking up every desperate moan. With a slip of your hand between your bodies, you rubbed the older woman's clit, gently enough so that the sensitivity gained from the last hour of fucking was not piqued but hard enough so that the pressure would give her the needed edge over her impending orgasm, "Cum for me JJ."

"Yes!" She cried out, her release simultaneously sparking life into every cell in her body and freezing it in its tracks. Her hands stayed stagnant but firm, keeping you fully sheathed inside her as her body shuddered and her hips ground in circles, lengthening her orgasm to its full extent.

Slowly, a steady breathing pattern was adopted between the two of you. The hands holding you close slackened, allowing you room to pull out and fall back onto the mattress with a content sigh falling from your lips. The moment was only made better when soft blonde locks tickled your chest, and you glanced down to see JJ's head settling on your shoulder. Metal clacked quietly - fingers expertly unbuckling the harness from your hips, allowing you to shuffle it off and place it aside.

A comfortable silence soon fell over your bedroom, warm and lulling. Your fingers traipsed mindlessly up and down JJ's spine whilst she wrapped an arm around your waist, nestled closer into your neck, and planted light kisses over the salty skin. It was easy in times like these to lose yourself, forget the daily struggles that fed your sullen mind, and imagine that life could always be filled with the contentedness you were given a brief taste of. A daydream come true, but the reality was much crueler.

"I've got to go," JJ sighed after a minute or two, showing no intent or want of moving, "Will's back in an hour."

"A few more minutes," you grumbled, running a hand through her hair and pulling her body in a little closer.

No argument was made, and JJ wholeheartedly accepted her fate, shuffling her body half atop yours and moving her kisses higher to the fine line of your jaw. The finite moment lingered with sweet kisses and caresses shared, and soon, you succumbed to sleep. It's a simple but treasured thing, sleeping next to the person you've found yourself undeniably falling for. It's seeing another side of them and letting them see a secret side of you when you have no control over how you look - peaceful or softly snoring from the exhaustion of a long work day, as JJ often did.

The cold woke you, alongside the quiet shuffling from the far side of the room. It was never a fond sight to sit up, rubbing well-earned sleep from your eyes, and see JJ dressing herself, going over what excuse she'd come up with to tell her fiance.

"Shit," she groaned, walking over to the bed and placing a chaste kiss on your forehead, "I didn't mean to wake you."

"It's okay," you smiled, "What time is it?"

"Almost eight. We slept for about an hour," JJ rushed to say, double-checking her phone before tossing it into her bag, "I've got to go, but I'll see you tomorrow."

You tried your best to give her a convincing smile and a cordial nod, though you knew it was anything but. She was trying to hide the obvious stress running through her system from sleeping in too long and, most likely, being late back home. So you - as always - found yourself empathising.

"Drive safe," you said, your false smile still intact.

It wasn't hard to fall back asleep once you heard the front door to your apartment close. You'd become accustomed to warding off unpleasant thoughts after encounters and partings with JJ. The two options were either to feed them and entrap yourself into believing a false reality or to acknowledge that life just isn't pretty or straightforward, it's a brutal battlefield, and the only way to survive is to face the truth of a shitty situation. That acceptance kept you strong and tactile in how you responded to the predicament you'd found yourself in. So, sleep came easy, knowing you'd already surmounted the horrors that fought to keep you awake.

The following morning was, as it turned out, not so ordinary. The routine check of your emails had you up on your feet and pacing, overcome with utter bewilderment. A job offer to run the Washington FBI office for counterterrorism had landed in your lap a while ago, and you'd taken a gander in submitting your name into the mix. In honesty, it was a drunken gander, and you had never expected to be considered, let alone chosen. But life had a funny way of surprising you then.

Though the start of the day was somewhat unexpected, you treated it as any other, getting breakfast, driving to work, and sitting down at your desk to sift through mountains of paperwork. You'd worked in the BAU for a while, and it only dawned on you with thoughts of leaving that the work grew to be tiresome, cases were exhausting, each taking its toll on your psyche. Yet the gratification of putting shitty ass people behind bars just couldn't be matched. Plus, you adored the team. They were your family; you settled down in Virginia, and, well, there was JJ. The pros seemed to outweigh the cons, but you hadn't had time to do more research, so assuming that staying at the BAU was the better option wasn't exactly foolproof.

"You're moving to Washington?!" A high-pitched squeal came from behind you, and you felt everyone turn to look at you as Garcia stormed towards your desk.

Soaring from your chair, you yanked the blonde by her arm and pulled her into the hallway, ignoring the curious looks from the rest of the team.

"First of all, stalking me… Not cool," you bitterly whispered before taking a deep breath and quelling your tone. In times like these, it was hard not to find the technical analyst's snooping infuriating, but at the end of the day, the truth was her checkups came from a place of worry, "Second, I haven't decided yet."

A flash of hurt crossed her features, "So you are considering it?"

There was no use playing coy, "Yes. It's a good job, Garcia and I'd be stupid not to."

"I just," she said, briefly pausing and giving you a watery smile, "I know. I'm happy for you. I just don't want to see you go."

It was safe to assume every little outburst this woman had was down to her rampant emotions and her fundamental problem with change. That's why it was hard to stay mad at her. She honestly didn't want to see you go and was most likely beating herself up for feeling so conflicted. You'd be lying if you said you hadn't known what that felt like.

"Come here," you open your arms to her, and she gladly accepts the gesture by falling into them, "I promise I'll tell you what I decide. Plus, I'd never let you miss the opportunity to throw me a killer goodbye party."

"You better not," she grumbled, pulling back to fix her hair, "We've got a case, by the way. Hotch is waiting in the briefing room."

"Well, rally the troops, and I'll see you there."

The briefing went as briefings do: information was handed out, and vivid imagery was shared and imprinted into your head forever. However, the presence of JJ next to you did help. She had a calming aura, and all you'd have to do when you felt as though the world was a shitty place - which it very much is - was turn to her and admire how her smile could be so warm, how her fleeting reassuring touches would pacify your sunken mood and how throughout her whole time at the BAU she'd remained so strong and still so loving, and you'd feel fine.

"You okay?" JJ asked as you walked to the car, "I heard Garcia this morning, and you seemed off during the briefing."

"I'm all good," you lied, giving her a smile when she opened the passenger door for you, "I have a lot on my mind, that's all." Not a lie.

She appeared sceptical, her eyes zoning in on you and creasing every so slightly at the sides. But she must have pushed it aside whilst closing the door and making her way around the car because the next thing she said was, "Well, I'd be happy to take your mind off it later."

You chuckled at that. It was no secret that JJ had a high libido, and hell, if you didn't love it, particularly in times when she'd ravish you all night and would still have the energy to go again the following morning. It made you feel the most wanted you'd ever felt during the entire duration of your hapless life. The passion bred in nights spent together was mind-numbing. It felt like you found your escape with each other - away from the team, your home lives and the constant strain of cases. Somehow, even the mention of your nights together, previous or upcoming, had a way of putting your mind at rest and eliciting a beaming smile to grace your lips.

"You know I'd never say no," you said, smirking, admiring how JJ mirrored your facial expression as she started the car and headed to the airstrip.

It was the truth; you'd never found a good enough reason to decline her offers, and the likelihood was you wouldn't. She had a way of twisting you around her fingers and never letting you forget it. Lunches, catch-ups, and, even once, a weekend trip away had been cancelled, and to think all it took was one phone and a particular husky voice at the other end of the line requesting your company.

So, true to word, after a long day, you snuck into JJ's hotel room and found a pleasant surprise. She lay sprawled out on the bed, stark naked, a tantalising smirk adorning her lips. One index stretched out then curled in a come hither motion, and you practically leapt.

"Someone's eager," JJ chuckled, cutting herself with a moan as your lips descended to her neck.

"Can you blame me?" You said, words slightly muffled, with you nipping and sucking at JJ's throat.

"Mmmm, I'm not complaining," she hums as she tilts her head back and grabs the neckline of your t-shirt, "Though I will complain about you still wearing clothes," she moved her hand down to the lining of your shirt and tugged, "Off."

Sitting up, you rid yourself of your shirt and bra, much to JJ's delight. No matter how many times she's seen you naked, she still looks at you like it's the very first time, and that in itself gets you wetter than the thought of all your exes combined.

By the time you were done revealing your upper body, hands were already grasping at the waistband of your trousers. The irony of her earlier comment staring you right in the face was too hard to ignore, so you let out a breathy laugh whilst saying, "Now look who's eager."

To that comment, JJ stopped her efforts to take off your trousers and instead used them to yank you forward, the tip of her nose brushing against your stomach. She darted her head down and harshly bit the side of your hip bone with a growl. You had to hold your bottom lip between your teeth to stop a moan from spilling out.

After her display of dominance, you knew two things: JJ wanted to be in control tonight, and by the look in her eyes, if you weren't naked soon, you'd face some heavy consequences.

"Okay, okay," you surrendered, helping her remove the last barriers between your naked bodies.

Instantly, she had you on your back. Stationed between your legs, she looked down at you with blown-out pupils, shamelessly taking in the sight of your bare body on display.

"Stunning," she whispered, sounding more like she was talking to herself than to you, but you seemed to blush regardless.

JJ left you no time to repay the compliment before her lips crashed down on yours, and her tongue demanded entrance, which you readily granted. She swirled the muscle around your mouth in a practised dance, stopping now and then to nibble at your lips, then going right back in. The way she kissed was addictive, and often, you thought you could come undone just from it alone. She'd perfected the art of being rough yet gentle, fast yet slow, passionate yet loving. It set your whole body alight, made your throat dry, and your knees weak. Even when laid down, you felt your body failing you, the mattress against your back a reassuring fail-safe.

Tender kisses fell lower, marking an invisible path to your collarbone, where they took their time dotting an array of scarlet blotches into your skin. JJ knelt back, smirking as her eyes darted over the canvas of bruising marks before she got back to work, lowering herself back down to the juncture of your breast. There, she became softer, pecking lightly from side to side till she was close enough to encapsulate a firm nipple into her mouth and lather it with her tongue. She knew your body so well - too well, you sometimes thought - you hadn't even needed to mourn the isolated attention to one breast before a warm hand cupped neglected flesh and began to knead.

"Oh god," you whimpered, pushing yourself further into JJ's mouth and hand.

You felt her lips curl around your breast, likely proud of herself for getting you worked up so fast despite knowing perfectly well she could do so with much less in her arsenal. Gloating put aside, JJ brought her free hand resting beside you to your thigh, squeezing the muscle - her thumb skimming the outskirts of where you almost certainly needed her. She continued to tease, and a protest lingered on your tongue, watching JJ brazenly settle on paying homage to your stomach, planting kisses high and low, but never as low as you wanted them. The pit in your stomach grew bigger, and the ache between your legs became more painful, yet the blonde paid no attention to your dejected whines.

Finally, when even the rutting of your hips did nothing, and the wriggling about only brought JJ back to your neck, you half huffed, half moaned, "Do I need to beg?"

Oh, so pleased with herself, JJ retorted, "I'd like that very much."

Choosing your release over your pride, you grabbed the sides of JJ's face, pulling her up so she was at eye level before confidently saying, "Please fuck me, JJ. I want to feel your fingers inside me. I want you to make me cum so hard that I can't walk tomorrow."

"Mmm," she hummed, her hands squeezing both your breast and thigh, "Well, since you asked so nicely."

The cursed thumb that had been endlessly teasing you moved, brushing lightly over your clit. As brief as the stimulation was, it was enough to cause you to jolt and grip the bedsheets. JJ retired her hand from your breast and clung to the pillow behind you, fingers running through the wet mess between your legs.

"I love how wet you get for me," she husked, placing a quick peck on your lips and ignoring your disapproving grunt to being denied more, "I want to watch you."

Just as she made her plans known, she thrust two fingers inside you and watched your mouth open in a gasp, biting her lip at the erotic sight. You burned, not only from her eager gaze but from the biting pleasure that ran its way along your spine and caused all your muscles to tense. The room faded to dark, your eyelids drooping, letting you hone in on the sea of sensations swimming through your body. Your chest rose and fell with every sharp intake of air you took, and it only became worse when JJ started to move, sliding her fingers out and then plunging them back in. She did this over and over until you felt as though you might burst. There were bulbs of sweat forming over your brow. Your lips were permanently parted. Your jaw shook with each breath. You were so close to the edge but not close enough. Then a thumb began caressing your clit, and you almost screamed in relief.

"Yes," you hissed, hips bucking up and down as JJ angled her fingers to run over ridged flesh, "I'm going to cum."

"Open your eyes," she tenderly whispered, kissing your temple, then leaning back again, "Look at me."

You did as instructed, watched JJ sway above you, saw the reverence in her eyes, and gazed into them as you felt the knot loop tighter and tighter in your stomach. She moved faster, using her hips to fuck into you harder. In a flash of white, your legs were shaking, your fingers tearing into the bed linen as your release poured out of you right onto JJ's fingers. All you could do was loop your arms around JJ and muffle your shaky cries into her neck, praying you wouldn't be heard.

The two of you stayed intertwined like that for a while, her fingers still inside you, moving slowly and steadily until you winced from being so sensitive, and she delicately withdrew. You had to blink to make out the room decor again: a wooden bedside table with a flickering lamp atop it, a sorry-looking armchair sitting idly in the corner and a dainty coffee table beside it.

"You okay?" JJ smiled above you, brushing strands of hair out of your face.

Returning her smile, you gave her a nod before pulling her down for a passionate kiss. You threaded your hands through her silky hair, scratching at her scalp and enjoying the content sighs she let out. There was a harmony to how you and JJ fucked. Where you'd often find in relationships one person getting off a significant amount of times more, a giver and receiver dynamic if you will, that was nothing like what you two had. Together, you walked the line of balance well, but at that moment, feeling her above you, tasting her tongue in your mouth, and remembering the way she looked at you whilst giving yet another brain-numbing orgasm, it made you want to give her more - give her everything.

You wanted to make sure that come the following days, she'd be so sore she wouldn't even consider letting Will touch her, let alone fuck her. Trying to eliminate the possessiveness and jealousy that lay dormant within you was useless, so in times like these, you used it for good. You could show JJ that no one else could do this for her. Her body was painted into your mind so clearly that you could be blinded and still tell it was her from touch alone. You could have your memory taken away, but with a pencil and paper, you'd draw the dips of her hips, the creases beside her eyes, and the jutting knuckles that run along her slender fingers. No one else knew her body like you; the need to remind her of it was dire.

Using her kiss befuddled mind to your advantage; it was easy to flip the tables and trap JJ beneath you. The move earned you a shocked yelp, though the second your lips found a dusky nipple, no complaints were heard. Only sultry moans warmed your ears.

Palms pushed the back of your head down whilst JJ arched to fit more of herself into your mouth, and you dutifully took her in. It didn't matter that you could hardly breathe, not when you could feel and hear how JJ's breath was catching in her throat and how her heart was hammering against her chest.

After giving the older woman's breast the much-needed attention they deserved, you sought your sights lower. Leaving a shimmering trail down JJ's taut stomach, you crawled back on the bed and positioned yourself comfortably between two muscled thighs. A sharp inhale from above, and hands fisting in your hair were sign enough for you to drive forward and deliver a long lick along JJ's slit, closing your eyes to enjoy the bitter flavour of her exploding over your tastebuds.

It wasn't long before you worked JJ up into a wiggling mess. It was painstakingly evident from the tireless efforts of the blonde's buckling hips that the lack of notice of her clit was becoming a problem. Taking pity, you sought to eradicate JJ's frustrations. With one final up swipe of your teasing tongue, you brought your lips to her needy clit and sucked. The gratification echoed around the hotel room as JJ slapped a palm over her mouth to keep quiet.

You kept going, alternating between sucking and licking, occasionally moving south to tease JJ's cunt with the stiffened end of your tongue, then returning to her clit.

"Don't stop," JJ breathily begged, "Don't you dare stop."

And you didn't, not for a second. You continued lathering JJ with unbridled pleasure, coaxing her body into a quivering mess until the muscles in her stomach were painfully tense and only then did you ease two fingers inside her. The pace you immediately set was vigorous, thrusting in and out of her so quickly her body was struggling to keep up. With her head flung back, JJ came with your name on her lips, breathily panting. Yet, still, you wanted more.

Sitting up, you waited for JJ to regulate her breathing as she held tight to your forearms and only then did you start moving your fingers again. Nestling your head in her neck, you moved faster, finding and hitting a spot deep inside JJ that had her digging her nails into your skin, marring you with crescent moons dotted in red. The pain only motivated you to keep going, fucking into her harder until she was all but screaming and sure to be heard. You didn't care. She was perfect like this: panting, out of control and solely focused on what you were doing to her.

Your arm began to protest; it ached and cramped, but you fought hard against it, using your body to drive in and out of JJ's exhausted pussy. Over and over, she spoke your name, hushed this time, as her awareness of where she was prevailed.

Sensing JJ's orgasm from the pulsing clenches around your fingers, you snuck your thumb over a tender clit and added another finger to your thrusts. The additional force sent her toppling over the edge, but you didn't stop even then. You continued to fuck her right through her orgasm, biting into the flesh of her neck to keep her crying out.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck!' JJ cried out, "I-"

She never finished, a third orgasm rapidly washing over her, snapping her spine and leaving her motionless, half off the bed. Her jaw was trembling, and her eyes wedged closed, but the starting of a contented smile was tugging the side of her lips. When she slumped down on the mattress, she was boneless and limp, her chest heaving as she struggled to draw in steady breaths, "Fuck," she finally whispered, her eyes still closed and a tear falling down the side of her cheek, "Fuck."

Settling down next to her, resting on one elbow, you mindlessly traced patterns along her glistening stomach, smirking proudly to yourself. Aftercare had always been a big thing between the two of you, and after what you'd just done, she looked like she needed it. So you stayed that way for a while, laid down together, occasionally sharing innocent kisses and soft smiles until you wound up in each other's arms. JJ lay atop you, her leg becoming a blanket to your waist, her head and breath a chest warmer.

"When were you going to tell me," JJ asked, and you looked down to see her eyes already on you.

Moving strands of silky blonde hair behind JJ's ear, you give her a questioning look, "Tell you about what?"

The question seemed to infuriate her. She shuffled out of your embrace and leaned back against the headboard, giving you a blank stare. "You don't want to go," JJ proudly stated her opinion as fact, arms folded across her chest as a finger steadily taps away at her forearm, "You know you'll get bored sitting behind a desk so much."

Brushing off the fact she had a point and focussing on remaining civil but not coming off as a pushover, you held your ground, "It's a good opportunity, and I'm not not considering taking it," you were silently begging her to understand, your eyebrows knitted together and lip wedged between your teeth.

"Come on, you can't be serious," she humorlessly laughed. The audacity of her tone gave you half a mind to walk out. You didn't, though, because this had to happen at some point, be it now or in a few days.

"What's left for me here?" you asked, eyes trained on the blonde, your finger under her chin keeping her from looking away and trying to escape. If she wanted you to stay, so desperately as she seemed to, she owed you this, "Give me one good reason I should stay."

Her lips parted, her jaw moving up and down in small increments. It was like the words she wanted to say were there, but she was fighting to get them out. You gave her time, looking at her with expectant eyes, softening your gaze to encourage whatever was trapped in her bobbing throat, but nothing came. Then her mouth snapped shut as though someone had tugged on an invisible string sewn through pink velvety lips, permanently sealing them.

The silence became too loud. It sought to engulf you, swallow you up so that all you'd hear was the sound of your own broken heart beating so painfully loud it made your chest ache. Your arms felt limp as you slung them to your side and rolled on your back, staring at the ceiling. It felt cold and bare without the promise of another comforting embrace because somehow you knew there was an unspoken realisation that this was truly the end of something.

The stinging behind your eyes had made itself known fully, and you couldn't handle JJ seeing you like this. Straightening yourself out with a roll of your shoulder and a lengthy exhale, you stood up, threw on your clothes while ignoring the awkward atmosphere that circulated the room and made your way to the door. Turning back before you exited, you sneered, "I thought so," and slammed the door shut behind you.

To say the next day was awkward would be an understatement. If the team had noticed the tension between you and JJ, which they most likely had, they used their better judgment to ignore it and focus solely on the case. From the corner of your eye, you noticed their regular stares, but you knew it was their way of ensuring you were okay. Once you caught on, you offered small smiles and brief nods that told them all was well, and you were thankful that that was enough to ease their curiosities.

It wasn't till much later in the day, when you were packing up to head back to the hotel, did JJ acknowledge your existence, and you weren't having any of it. She approached you as you slung your bag over your shoulder and started walking out with Reid and Emily. Instead of doing the mature thing, which would have been to wait for JJ to catch up and deal with your suffocating predicament, you gave her the cold shoulder, ignoring her presence completely and walking out.

A faint sigh came from the room you'd just vacated, and you fought against your better judgment to head back to the hotel and put the whole day behind you. It was for the best; you needed time to think, and you still had a looming decision hanging over your head. It was a life-changing decision; you couldn't afford to cloud your mind with a frivolous affair.

With what comfort a shabby mattress could offer, you settled back, opened your laptop, looked at some apartment listings, checked over the job description a couple more times, and re-read the email, indeed confirming you had been offered the job if you wished to take it. Despite your best efforts, the god-forsaken argument continued to play in your head: JJ's dejected look when she was unable to voice her true feelings, the razor-sharp tone she used to admonish you and most of all, her inability to give you the one thing you needed that would have turned the tables and made your decision for you.

A knock at your door pulled you from said incessant thoughts. You'd have been grateful for the distraction had you not sensed who would likely be your 'knight in shining armour'. Rising and looking through the peephole confirmed your suspicions, and an involuntary groan slipped free.

"Real mature," JJ quipped. Taking a deep breath and then staring pleadingly into the peephole where she knew you were standing, she tried again, "Sorry. Please, can we talk?"

The door fractionally opened, enough for you to slip your head out and huff, "I'm exhausted, and I don't think I have the energy to deal with this now."

"I'll give you one," she muttered under her breath.

"Give me what?" You huff.

Opening the door to let her in, already fed up with where this conversation was inevitably headed - which was most likely an argument - you move over to lean against the outdated armchair.

JJ watched your movements as she shut the door and stood awkwardly in the middle of the room, "A reason," she began, looking down at her left hand. You curiously followed her gaze. There on her finger sat an elegant diamond ring, glinting in the lamplight. It was a sickly sight, and the vexing thing was it never used to be. Your stomach lurched, forcing you to avert your gaze to keep yourself from spewing your dinner onto the atrocious carpet. Honestly, it was a mystery that the team wasn't investigating who committed this interior design crime.

"I don't want you to go. I want you to stay," she took long strides towards you, and you shot your head up to see, in the blink of an eye, JJ was standing tall right above you. Her fingers fidgeted with her engagement ring before she slipped it off and let it fall to the floor. The boldness of the move left you momentarily frozen until you were pulled to your feet by your waist and felt a pair of lips ghosting over yours, "And if you'll have me, I want you."

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acourtofmenandthirst · 7 months

Text

Coming Home

Eris x Reader, taking care of him after battle

Warnings: Illusion to smut for one sentence, war but nondescript

Word Count: 3.1K (not proofread)

The kettle screamed in the kitchen, the hot water begging to be removed from the fire and poured alongside fresh herbs and chamomile. You quickly set your book aside, careful to tuck a corner of your soft blanket between the pages before pulling yourself from the warm corner of the sofa. Bitter cold nipped at your bare feet as you skipped across the uneven floorboards, creaking at each step. You crossed your arms across your chest, the thick brown sweater tucked between your arms and over your neck.

Your boyfriend had a tendency to wear turtlenecks, preferring to trade his formal jackets with stiff collars for the comfortable hand knitted sweaters. He also had a tendency to leave them at your house.

You smiled at the memory, how the male would reluctantly crawl from your bed, grumbling something about the cold weather, before retracing his steps from the previous night, plucking up each article of clothing you’d thrown somewhere across the room. He’d have a multitude of items, usually a soft linen shirt, followed by a more stiff white button down, a vest maybe, a sweater, then the final layer: a tailored coat. He would throw you the sweater - only the softest, thickest material for the High Lord’s son - after he’d seen you curl up in the fleece sheets, wrapping them around yourself as you sleepily gazed over at him. He’d always pair the action with a small smile or a wink, to which you couldn’t stifle your grin. It was a silent battle between the two of you: whether he’d ever leave your home with all of his clothes, but it was one that he would happily lose, especially if he got to spend the morning making you breakfast while you sat on the counter all curled up in his sweater - it was his favorite sight.

You poured the steaming water over the leaves and flowers, silencing the noise that pierced your small home. You’d gotten a few complaints from your neighbors, when you’d left the kettle over the fire just a bit too long this late into the evening. Sometimes you’d just be too enthralled in your book, unable to stop yourself in the middle of the paragraph to head to the kitchen. Other times, you abandoned the kettle, the mere thought of tea long forgotten as the male in your arms kissed all down your neck.

The steam swirled around the rim of the mug as you grabbed the handle and carefully trudged back to the couch. After setting the cup on the small table beside you, you sat back between the plush cushions and curled your legs into you, tucked safely under the thick fabric of the male’s sweater. You threw the blanket over yourself for good measure, picking up your book with the blanket inside, and continued reading.

It was late, but by no means early morning yet, and sleep had evaded you. Despite countless cups of tea and tossing and turning in your bed for hours, you couldn’t manage one minute of shut eye; so, you’d given up completely and ventured to the living room to finish your novel. It was a tale of romance, a forbidden love between a stable boy and the princess - cheesy, no doubt, but it was one that made a smile cross your lips, a glimpse into your own relationship, however the roles reversed. But your heart swelled, as true love always found a way, the feeling almost too similar to how your own relationship had persisted regardless of the many obstacles in your way.

A harsh sigh left your lips as your ears perked up at the sound outside your front door. The clatter of metal, more than likely a candle holder, accompanied by a knock - one that no doubt belonged to your old neighbor, Mrs. Brittel, who had to pay you a visit at the slightest of disturbances. You groaned as you heaved yourself from the sofa, once again placing your book on the soft cushions.

Your eyes flitted to the clock on the fireplace mantle: nearly half past eleven; not too late to be up, but a decent enough excuse to answer the door in such an unbecoming state. You turned the lock, opening the heavy wooden door just a crack before poking your head through. A prickly greeting was already positioned at your lips, but your jaw fell open at the sight you were met with.

The male was tall, looming over you as the door fell open, your hands dropping to your sides. His helmet covered his fiery hair, though tufts of dark red curled around the edges of the metal. Silver adorned his body, a scuffed breastplate and armor lining his arms and legs. Dark leather bound his body underneath, visible at all his joints and tucked into his boots. A heavy-looking silver sword hung at his hip, his hands, tucked away in dark gloves, were shaking.

“Eris,” you breathed, his name the only word your brain could form. He sighed, chapped lips parting at the sound of your voice. His eyes shined, red irises glinting as silver lined his bloodshot eyes. A few cuts and scrapes adorned his flushed cheeks, riddled with marks or dirt and grime.

The male before you usually didn’t knock. He’d simply sneak in, entering your small cabin and sweeping you off your feet all in one quick motion. But he stood before you, dressed in armor, fresh from battle, shell shocked in your doorway.

He breathed your name, nothing but a whisper on his lips, as he stepped forward and held you by the shoulders. Your bodies didn’t touch, nothing close to the hug you’d been expecting to pull you into. He held you at arms length, weapons clinging against the metal along his legs, scanning over your form. What would normally have him in a frenzy, seeing you in his clothes, sweater busy barely covering your curves, not daring to even cover your bare legs - you normally wouldn’t be able to pull him off of you.

But he was ferally in search of any injuries, anything that may have been off about your form. Your hands rose to his wrists and found purchase against the leather that bound his arms into the armor. You felt his skin burning through the layers, that no doubt the heat was leaching into the silver.

You couldn’t even imagine what he’d seen, what he’d returned from.

Whatever it was, the dead bodies, the torture that must have been inflicted upon him and his men… you were just glad he made it home.

“I’m okay, Eris,” you whispered, gaze locked to his. You saw him press his lips together and swallow harshly. “You’re okay,” you continued. He looked okay, at least. No blood, no missing limbs, a few cuts and scratches - hell, you’d patched up many worse wounds inflicted by his own father.

The slightest nod.

“It’s cold, let’s come inside.” You waited for another nod before you stepped backwards, retaining your grip on his arms, slowly pulling him with you. The cold Autumn air had overtaken the whole living room, in which you couldn’t even feel the fire in the small hearth.

He heaved a sigh, dropping your shoulders as he began to recognized the room around him, when he realized where he ended up. It felt like his body was on autopilot - without even thinking he’d winnowed himself to your front door.

Eris’s hands fell to his belt, unfastening the holster his sword was looped into, and let if fall to the ground with a heavy thud. He flinched, then, returning his shaking hands to the metal plates on his chest. Those red eyes burned into yours, begging apology at the disruptive noise. “It’s okay, Eris,” you noted calmly, raising your hands to his armor. You helped him remove the heavy shielding, pulling at the thick leather laces at his sides, unweaving the knots and pulling free the strings.

He was frozen for what felt like hours, watching you work diligently, not flinching at the dirt that clung to your fingers as you pulled at the leather. The only thing he could focus on was his ragged breathing, the burn in his chest at each breath he took. He snapped out of it once you grabbed hold of the chest plate and blew out a breath as you tried to lift it off his frame.

His hands rose up to pull it away from you, the contoured metal much heavier than you could’ve ever guessed. He set it down, leaning it against the trim beside the door behind him. A small gasp fell on his pointed ears when he turned around, to which he shot back up to see you with your hands covering your mouth.

You motioned for him to turn back around, grimacing once you touched the dent on the metal hanging off his back. He shrugged it off, groaning at not only the loss of weight, but at the ache in his back. The whole piece of armor was dented at his spine, from when they’d killed his horse and he’d fallen onto their barrier walls. He thought it a miracle that he could even walk after that, but not after an ache with every step. He wasn’t sure how many bones were broken or how long it would take them to heal, but by the gods he couldn’t wait another moment to see you.

He shook his head, begging you not to ask, and continued on removing the armor, then the leather bindings, then the outer layers of his clothing. Eris was left in just his trousers and linen long sleeved shirt, the once loose material had become matted to his body, brown with grime and sweat. You tried not to stare at the flecks of blood, wounds that had probably already begun healing over, or the tears, where no doubt enemy swords may have scratched or even penetrated through the gaps in his armor.

As the broken male stood before you, eyelids heavy and shoulders slumped, you picked up your hand and raised it up to his prominent cheekbone, running your thumb over the scar adorning his pale skin. He hummed at your touch, nuzzling his cheek into your palm, as if his head was so heavy he could barely hold it up on his own.

He shut his eyes so, in fear he may fall asleep standing in your doorway, you tilted his chin up with your forefinger, and lifted his head up. He opened those bloodshot eyes and blinked a few times. “Can’t let you fall asleep so dirty, my love,” you whispered, running your thumb over his sharp jaw before you dropped your hand, only to grab his instead. “You’ll sleep much better if you’re clean.”

A small smile tugged at his lips at the sweet gesture of the female he loved as he followed you down the hall and into the bathing room.

The tea on the side table had been long forgotten.

You lit up the candles with your own fire power, the scent of maple and pine wafting around the room. Eris stood awkwardly in the middle of the room, waiting for you to guide him to the next step. He craned his neck in all directions, a low crack echoing off the walls. His shoulders ached, too sore to even move his arms, as he tried to roll out his shoulders. “None of that,” you stated over the sound of the copper tub filling with water. “Let me help.”

You grabbed two handfuls of his shirt, stuck against his abdomen, as you pulled it free from his lean muscle and pulled it over his head. He groaned, raising his arms only high enough for you to bunch up the material and slip it over his head. You repeated the action with his trousers, allowing him to step free of them and then into the water.

His skin was covered in bruises, some yellow, some still ripe and purple. His muscles were tense, you could see all the valleys of his toned legs and arms, the contour of each muscle that bound his bones. You touched his arm ever so lightly when it was time for him to step into the tub, adding a handful of soap into the stream of water.

Brown and red speckled along the surface of the water, the grime leaving his body as he nearly dropped himself into the water. He sighed, the water relaxing the ache in his bones. You grabbed the cloth and saturated it in soap, lifting his arm and dragging the soft material across his skin. A few minor cuts and scrapes, nothing that wouldn’t heal by the morning.

His eyes shut and his head fell against the edge of the tub as you worked your way across his body, stopping only to inspect the cuts adorning his skin. “Come on, Eris, wake up,” you murmured, leaning over from your spot at the edge of the tub. You lifted his head into your hands, scooping the water over his sweat-soaked locks. “Lavender or green apple?”

He hummed, opening his eyes only just a crack before responding. “Lavender.” His voice was low, so low that you almost didn’t hear it. The purple marks under his eyes were more prominent in the candle light - the male had been through hell and back, clearly, and needed nothing more than your gentle touch to heal him.

“Then you’ll no doubt fall asleep on me,” you hummed, lathering up the lavender soap in your hands before running your fingers through his hair. Your fingertips scratched at his scalp just the way he liked, running the sudsy soap through his long curls. If he weren’t so tired, he would have grabbed your arms and heaved you over the side of the tub, holding you over his lap while you washed his hair. He’d nip at your breasts as they’d fall right in his face, and maybe he’d tease the head of his cock through your folds as you bounced above him to clean the back of his head.

But he was so fucking tired.

And there was always tomorrow.

“Ok almost done,” you whispered, probably more to yourself than him, as you cleaned the soap from his hair. “You ready to get up? Or are you spending the evening in the tub?”

He smiled for the first time that evening, his lips pressed together with smile lines carved into his cheeks. His eyes had nearly fallen closed again, and although he did feel so comfortable in the warm water, he knew he ought to get up. He’d much rather spend the night in your warm bed wrapped in your arms than the water that was soon to grow cold.

“Thank you, (Y/N),” he almost moaned, pressing his large hands to the sides of the tub and pushing himself up. The water moved around him, falling off his body in waves.

“Don’t mention it,” you replied, wrapping a towel over his shoulders and beginning to wipe him dry as he stepped from the bathtub. You fetched some clean clothes for him - his stockpile he’d reserved for when he decided he needed to spend weeks at your house, not daining to leave even to winnow home for more clothes.

I’m not leaving you, (Y/N). I’ll just have to spend the week naked with you, he’d say. After that week, spent more in his arms than anywhere else, you’d forced him to fill your armoire with clothes for the next impromptu vacation.

You pushed over the bathroom stool, splaying your hands on his broad back and pushing him towards the chair. You opened up the expensive salve on your counter, swiping some with your fingers and spreading it over his cheeks. You rubbed the salve into his skin - your skin will go dry in the cold, you’d told him.

In truth, he loved being pampered. He was the High Lord’s son for gods’ sake. He’d been used to a lifetime of it; but his male-pride showed when he’d spend the first night at your house, grimacing as you attempted to put the product on his face. Only this once, he’d responded, giving in only when you’d jutted out your bottom lip in protest.

But he secretly loved it, and let you do whatever you wanted to him. Which is why he sat so still on that chair when you started to run your fingers through his hair, using the heat building up in your palms and fingers to heat up his hair, drying it quickly as you sifted through it.

Between the heat and your fingers pulling at his red locks, his head fell backwards and his eyes fell shut once more. You smiled down at the male, with the hard and rigid exterior, the no one can touch me god-like complex, melted and so soft under your touch.

Once his hair was dry enough where you knew he’d have no issues falling asleep in the cold air of your bedroom, you traced your fingers over his cheeks and down his neck, over his collar bones, then down the thick muscles of his arms. Your thumb drew circles over his hard muscles, still tense and no doubt sore.

He hummed, a groan deep in his throat, as he opened his eyes and held your wrists in his hands. “We done here?” He grumbled, knowing you’d like to pamper him much more, more serums and salves - and by the Cauldron he wasn’t one to refuse a good massage.

But you knew he was tired, you bit back the smile and nodded, allowing Eris to finally stand and guide you back to the bedroom. He made sure to get you into bed first, pulling back the covers that were already strewn about from when you’d tried to sleep earlier that evening. You crawled in first, pushing back the layers of covers before so you both could lay out under the blankets.

Eris followed you in, laying on his side, bending his legs so his feet didn’t hang off the edge. You curled up to his side, chest to chest, enveloped in his warmth. His arm fell across your back, holding you close to him, and you tangled your legs with his under the pile of blankets. Eris’s breathing fell steady - you knew he fell asleep the moment his head hit the soft pillow.

No matter how hard you’d try to sleep in, you knew you’d wake before him. He was in dire need of a night of undisturbed sleep, relaxation and healing the forefront of his exhausted body’s priorities at the moment. You knew that even if you tried to sneak out as slowly and quietly as you could, he’d hold you tight in his sleep, not even waking to wrap his arms tighter around you. So you’d lie awake in his arms, tracing the scars on his skin and counting the freckles adorning his cheeks.

But you wouldn’t have it any other way.

#acotar #eris vanserra #eris x reader #eris vanserra x reader #eris x you

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writingoddess1125 · 7 months

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Hello! Could do Mihawk with an beloved who's like a Disney princess and attracts animal whenever she/they sing, but Mihawk is just confused standing there like "wtf? Why are there deer inside?? There's litterly no deer on his island????"

I love this!

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How and Why?

When Mihawk had gotten with you he knew you were... odd-

The opposite of him in every way. While his hands were for killing and takinf away- yours was for life and charity. The embodiment of a Innocent Saint in his eyes- that he had in some wait tainted said innocence with his nature and desire for you.

It was hard for a killing machine like himself to gave to curve said nature when you came along. You promoting mercy, second chances and guidance for others.

While this tested his patients- it wasn't the main thing- no no

It was the animals-

It was the God damn animals that seemed to follow you everywhere!

You hum while outside- Bunnies suddently appear to shit on his lawn.

You whistle happily while gardening birds from all walks of life appear to once again shit on everything.

Goddess have mercy if you sing cause the animal kingdom appears randomly.

If he took you with him say out to a light mission or just for a vacation, suddently you'd have half the God damn forest trailing behind you and he would have to sneak a quick blade to snag a few rabbits without you noticing for a nice dinner. In fear you'd cry in knowing your abilties were being used for Mihawk to hunt dinner.

However..

Non of this mattered since he loved you, he loved you more then he had words to express and you loved him just as much- So he was willing to turn a blind eye to this all. Till the day he couldn't.

It was suppose to be a relaxed day- get some nice food, some drinks and just lounge about. Mihawk was excited for this, he had been working hard and wanted some down time.. especially with you- Stepping into the livingroom ready to shower you in attention he froze.

"What the actual hell?-" Mihawk said way louder then he ment to and seeing you turn around quickly. There in the livingroom you were on your knees petting a fully grown fucking deer that was leaning into your touch.

"Hi honey!"

Mihawk is just standing there holding a wine glass in his open shirt and staring at you in what can only be described as total shock and you can practically see the vein in his forehead.

"(Y/N)' How the hell did you get a deer in the house- Wait deer at all there are non on the island?" He questioned as he downed the glass of wine like a shot and set it aside.

"I sang and she came here" You say with a shrug and continue to pet the wide eyed doe.

He huffed at this, rubbing his temple.

"I thought we agreed no animals in the house?.." He grumbled- Trying to mentally wrap his head around a doe in his livingroom.

"But she looked so cold and was by the front door Hawks! I couldnt just leave her there" You say poking out your bottom lip- Mihawk mentally sighs.

"That doesnt... No- No matter... saves me from going to the market for venison" He says calmly and reaches for his blade calmly.

Your eyes widening as you realize what he means and hug the deer close to you.

"No! Mihawk you cant kill her" You yell as tears well in your eyes.

"You have a fully grown Doe in our livingroom- no idea were she came from and a meat locker low on venison" He tried to reason by you sat there crying and Mihawk groaned-

"Then what is your plan with it hm?" He questioned. That was what lead him outside, carrying a squirming 120 pound doe to the stables he had long since forgotten about while you set down some old hay, cut apples and nuts for feed and he releases the kicking animal into its new space.

Mihawk sighed now looking at the once empty stables of the castle now housed a doe- A Sinking feeling that this stable was going to be getting fuller..

"You are lucky I love you-" He grumbled, Hearing you giggle and jump up to kiss his cheek.

"I love you too Mihawk. And I promise to make it up to you~" You say with a wink. Mihawk now remembering how and why he had forgiven all the times before.

#x reader #one peice x reader #one piece #one peice live action #hawkeye mihawk #mihawk x reader #one piece mihawk #dracule mihawk #mihawk #dracule mihawk x reader

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kvtie444 · 4 months

Text

✧.* HABITS .1

Summary: Chris, your best friend's brother, is in a relationship. Despite that, the two of you began a discreet fwb relationship that initially felt enjoyable. However, as time goes on, you find yourself unable to resist developing deeper feelings for him.

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I take a deep breath, casting my gaze over at the peacefully sleeping body next to me. Chris's features are like a canvas before me – his brown hair, now tousled and covering his eyes, freckles emerging as the weather warms, his pink lips slightly parted, and his chest rising rhythmically with every breath. My attention shifts to both our phones resting on the nightstand. In my effort to check the time without disturbing his slumber, I grab the first phone I can reach, unwittingly selecting Chris's

7:28 am

Missed call from Anna 🤍

Anna 🤍: Baby, I miss you.

Anna 🤍: Call me later, ily x.

I sigh and power off my phone, tracing my fingers over the edge of his phone case.

I'm know what you're thinking – I'm a horrible person. Fucking with someone in a relationship is undeniably a shitty thing to do. I don't argue with that. Chris and I started seeing eachother three months ago, while he's been dating Anna for two. It started at some after party, one thing lead to another and all I knew was that it felt good and I didn’t want to stop. But when he started getting serious with Anna, I attempted to end it with him, but when his lips find your neck, creating a symphony of kisses and heavy breaths while his fingers deliver everything you crave and more, it's impossible to say no.

The real predicament, however, is his brother, Nick. Nick is my best friend, and I love him more than myself. I wasn't particularly close to Matt, but Nick and I were platonic soulmates. He had no clue about Chris and me. In fact, he hasn't even seen us having more than three conversations together. The main source of my guilt was Nick, not Anna – who, to be honest, was kind of a bitch.

I sigh and turn my attention back to Chris, gently shaking him awake. He groans, his hand finding its way to my waist. "Chris, wake up. You need to go," I whisper softly, nudging him awake for school. He grumbles a bit more before sitting up, rubbing his eyes sleepily. Grabbing his shirt from the edge of the bed, he throws it on, standing up to put on his shoes – a routine we've established by now.

I rise from my bed, dressed in shorts and a long-sleeve top, and head to my closet to pick out an outfit for school. A presence leans down beside me, a hand on my waist, prompting me to turn around. Chris smiles down at me, his blue eyes locking onto mine. "I'll see you at school later, yeah?" he practically whispers, leaning toward me. "Mhm," I hum, nodding. He smiles, presses a soft kiss to my lips, then pulls away, leaving my room, followed by the sound of my front door shutting.

I turn to look at myself in the mirror, taking back breath, alone again.

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

"They're just driving me crazy," Nick vents as we walk down the hallway. He's caught up in a massive argument with Matt and Chris, and he's been on tangent about it all morning. Leaning against the wall further down the hall, I spot Chris with his girlfriend and their friends. Our eyes lock, and as I approach down his side of the hallway, Anna grabs his face, pulling him into a kiss. I avert my gaze, walking on with Nick, attempting to push aside the twinge of jealousy.

"Y/n?" Nick interrupts my thoughts as we reach our classroom. "You okay?" he asks, holding the door open for us. "Yeah, just didn't sleep well last night," I reply, a half-truth.

"Alright, you still coming to the lacrosse game tonight?" Nick questions as we take our seats. I reach into my bag for my books. "Yeah, of course, I'll be there," I reply with a smile. Nick hated attending the games but had to as the photographer. He'd always pick me up and drop me off after the game, so it didn't bother me much. "I heard Nate's looking forward to seeing you there," Nick smirks, teasing me about Nate's crush. My cheeks tint red, but I manage a smile. Nate had had a thing for me for a while, and the idea wasn't unappealing. I wasn't blind - he was a good looking and nice guy.

I push my hair behind my ear, and my attention is drawn to the door. Chris walks in with his friends, including Nate. Speak of the devil. I lock eyes with Nate, and he smiles, taking a seat in front of me, with Chris to his right. I find myself staring at the back of Chris's head, contemplating that with school ending this year, I've got nothing left to lose.

Suddenly, Nate turns around, catching me off guard. "Do you have a spare pen?" he smiles at me. I momentarily freeze before handing him a spare pen. "Yeah," I reply. As I pass it over, our fingers brush. "Thanks. Am I gonna see you tonight at the game?" He smirks, propping his arm on the back of his chair. I smile, looking at him, when I notice Chris's eyes turning cold, glancing over at us without turning his head. I refocus on Nate, "Yeah, I'll see you there," I reply, leaning forward slightly. I hear Chris kiss his teeth, prompting both Nate and me to glance over. Nate smirks at me, his eyes flickering over my lips and back to my eyes before turning back around.

I know this will rile Chris up, tension building. It's unfair; he could be with other girls, but if I even talk to another guy, he acts possessive. I brace myself, knowing he'd run it up on me tonight; I'm in for it now.

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#Spotify #chris sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #matt sturniolo x reader #angst #chris sturniolo x reader #fluff #smut #imagine

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xxoxobree · 1 year

Text

Intoxicating Pt.2

Hobie x Black Fem Spider Person Reader

Summary: Another Day Another Anomaly to catch but who accompanied you was definitely unexpected.

A/n: This is supposed to mimic Cindy Moon & Peters Relationship

The sound of Layla's voice repeatedly calling your name jolted you awake from your peaceful slumber. You groaned annoyed, hoping she would leave you alone.

"What's the matter, Layla?" you grumbled, still half-asleep.

"You've got a mission to attend, and you're already late," she informed you, her tone laced with urgency. You knew Miguel wouldn't be too pleased with your tardiness.

As you let out a groan and reluctantly lifted your face from the pillow, you muttered something unintelligible under your breath. Slowly but surely, you made your way to the bathroom and splashed cold water on your face, hoping to shake off the remnants of last night's sleep.

"Okay, I'm coming, but what are we up against today?" you asked.

"It shouldn't be too hard for you, just a Doctor Octavius Anomaly," she replied nonchalantly.

"Alright, Layla, bye" you said, waving her off.

"Should be an easy day," you murmured to yourself, as you grabbed your suit and dusted it off before squeezing into it. You took one last glance at your reflection in the mirror and admired the way the suit hugged your figure, before opening a portal to HQ.

As you took a step towards the portal, a sudden rush of anxiety and arousal coursed through your body, bringing back memories of Hobie that you had tried so hard to forget. "Will he be at HQ today?" you asked yourself, your heart pounding in your chest. "Probably not, right?" You took a deep breath and tried to push the thoughts aside. "Phew, it's okay, Y/n, just think about it later," you reassured yourself, before stepping through the portal.

As you stepped into HQ, you were greeted by the familiar hustle and bustle of your fellow Spider People friends ?- or were they just your coworkers? You weren't quite sure. You nodded and exchanged greetings with a few of them as you made your way towards Miguel's Dungeon, as you liked to call it. You greeted Miguel with a small smile and a nod of your head, still keeping your eyes downcast. However, as you slowly raised your head, your heart stuttered at the sight before you.

Standing before you was none other than Hobie, his warm smile making your heart race and your stomach do somersaults. You couldn't believe your luck, or perhaps it was your misfortune, to run into him today. You tried to keep your composure, but your mind was racing with thoughts and emotions that you couldn't quite put into words.

Hobie stood there leaning against a table, his hands tucked neatly into his vest as his legs crossed casually. That devilish smirk was still present on his lips, and you couldn't help but feel drawn to him as his gaze locked onto yours. Your feet shuffled you forward as they carried you towards him and Miguel, his intoxicating scent filling your senses and sending a tingle throughout your body.

"Ello love, it's finally nice to see your face," Hobie greeted you with that smooth, honeyed British voice of his, causing your face to flush with warmth. You tried to keep your composure in check, but it was hard to resist the pull his charm amplifying your feelings , he made your heart skip a beat with just a few words. All you could do was stand there, lost in his gaze.

You let out an awkward chuckle before turning to Miguel and pulling him aside, trying to keep your voice low.

"What is he doing here?" you asked, feeling a sense of unease settle in your gut.

"He's........going to accompany you today," Miguel replied, his tone even and calm.

The thought of spending the day alone with Hobie made your blood run cold, and you couldn't help but wonder if this was some sick joke the universe was playing on you.

Little did you know, Hobie felt the same intense attraction to you from the moment he laid eyes on you and you set his Spider Sense ablaze .

He couldn't resist the pull of your energy. He knew it was risky, but he couldn't help himself, he had to find a way to spend more time with you volunteering to accompany you today. As you stood there, lost in your conversation, Hobie watched you from a distance, his mind racing with all the different possibilities.

He put on a more composed front, he was better at controlling himself than you were. But in reality, your scent was just as intoxicating to him, sending shivers down his spine every time you were near. He had only met you yesterday, the Spider-Woman who never took her mask off, yet you were the only thing on his mind since then.

He rambled on and on to his friends last night at the pub about you and the effect you had on him. He could tell by the way you looked at him, completely entranced, that you felt the same way.

He couldn't help but notice the way you stumbled over your words whenever you were around him.

He also realized that you would take deeper breaths when you were in his presence, to get a whiff of his scent.

When you walked in without your mask, his knees almost buckled beneath him, but being him he played it cool, his signature smirk resting on his face, but his heart pounded against his rib cage as he studied your features.

You had full lips and bright, round eyes that he could stare into all day. He felt a wave of heat wash over him as he took in your beauty, and he couldn't help but wonder what it would be like to touch your skin, to taste your lips. But he knew that he had to be careful.

Hobie couldn't help but admire the way your braid swayed with every step you took, the beads clinking together like a soothing melody. As you got closer, the sweet smell of your scent became stronger and stronger, and he found himself completely under your spell.

"Finally nice to see your face," Hobie said, trying to release some of the heat that seemed to be trapped inside his body.

You responded, stumbling over your words once again ,ultimately deciding to just laugh, and pull Miguel to the side.

"Alright Hobie, we should go," you said, inputting the coordinates for today's mission.

Earth 483.

The two of you stepped through the portal and found yourselves perfectly placed in an alleyway.

"So who are we catching today?" Hobie asked, his figure towering over you. You looked up at him as your bodies instinctively drew together, leaving barely an inch of space between the two of you. His eyes were half-lidded, and you couldn't help but feel drawn towards him, basking in the heat that radiated from his body.

As Hobie's breath fanned across your skin, a shiver ran down your spine, causing goosebumps to form all over your body. You closed your eyes, exhaling slowly, trying to pull yourself together before taking a step back to put some distance between the two of you.

"We're looking for a Doctor Octavius. Keep an eye out for a man with metal arms," you said, trying to focus on the mission at hand.

"Octavius? Never heard of him," Hobie replied, his voice deep and smooth.

"Mask on, Hobie. Come on," you said, swinging to a nearby building and perching at the edge, scanning the surrounding area for any signs of danger.

Hobie followed your lead, putting on his mask and standing at your back, admiring you as he leaned against the edge. "So, you're pretty good at this dimensional stuff, eh?" he said.

"It's all about being aware of your surroundings and staying one step ahead of the enemy," you replied, your eyes scanning the area for any potential threats.

Hobie chuckled, and you could feel the warmth of his breath against your ear. "You make it sound so easy," he said, his voice sending a heat throughout your body straight to your center.

You tried to ignore the fluttering in your stomach and instead focused on the mission, determined to do whatever it took to complete it successfully. But as Hobie's body pressed up against yours, you couldn't help but feel complete arousal drawing you in closer and closer until there was barely any space left between the two of you.

"Just happy to help," you replied, trying to remain on high alert despite the distracting aroma that was wafting towards you again, making your head feel fuzzy and clouded.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," you muttered under your breath, trying to regain your focus as you fought against the alluring scent that was threatening to pull you under, making your walls flutter.

"What's wrong, love? Is something bothering you?" Hobie asked, his hands finding yours and gently caressing them.

You welcomed Hobie's touch, even though you could feel your self-control crumbling. You turned your head to look at him, your breaths shallow, about to give in to the overwhelming attraction that was building between the two of you reaching for your mask.

But just as you were about to do something you might regret, screams were heard to your right, shifting your attention to a man with metal arms that were glitching as he made his way down the street, crushing cars in his path.

You sprang into action, putting all thoughts of Hobie aside as you focused on the task at hand. "That's our guy. Let's move," you said, taking off in pursuit of the dangerous villain. Hobie followed closely behind, his intense gaze locked on the target as he prepared to engage in battle.

"Hey, Doc, love the color changing tech," you said, swinging next to him as he glitched, trying to distract him from his nefarious plans.

"Pesky spiders," Doc replied, launching one of his metal arms towards you in an attempt to catch you off guard. But you were too quick for him, expertly dodging the arm and swinging around to land a kick to his jaw, sending him crashing to the ground.

"Hobie!" you yelled to your partner, hoping that he would catch the cue and web up the villain before he could cause any more damage.

Luckily, Hobie was on the same page as you, and he quickly swung in, deftly webbing up the metal arms to the street and preventing them from causing any more destruction. But as he did so, one of the arms caught you off guard, knocking you back into a nearby car with a sickening thud.

You winced in pain, trying to shake off the dizziness that was clouding your vision.

You groaned as the impact from the blow settled in, holding your arm as you stood on top of the car. "Why is it always me?" you muttered under your breath, feeling frustrated and annoyed.

Hobie quickly came over to your aid, concern etched in his voice. "Are you alright, Y/n?" he asked, his voice low and soothing.

"Yeah, I'm good. Nothing a Spider-Man can't handle," you said, waving him off as you walked towards the anomaly that was anchored to the street, still glitching uncontrollably.

You fiddled with your watch, feeling a sense of relief as you opened the portal and kicked Doctor Octavius through it. "They'll know what to do," you said.

As you walked slowly towards another alleyway, Hobie followed closely behind you, his eyes filled with concern as he watched you closely. "You don't look too good, Love," he said, catching up with you and gently holding your hand to make you stop walking.

You sighed, feeling a wave of exhaustion washing over you.

The scent hit you again, and you couldn't resist any longer. You turned towards him and pulled off your mask. "I'm....... I'm fine, Hobie. Let's get back," you said, taking a step back to keep your distance. But Hobie took off his mask and started walking towards you, closing the gap between you two. As he got closer, you could feel the warmth of his body seeping into yours, and it felt like the most natural thing in the world. Your breath quickened, and you looked up at him.

"I know you feel it too, Y/n. It's driving me mad."

He placed his head in his hand, taking a step back before looking back at you. You looked up at him, slightly shocked that he was feeling the same thing you were.

Your sentence was cut off as his lips crashed onto yours, the kiss feverish and filled with lust and want. You were taken aback for a moment, but soon found yourself responding. You grabbed the side of his face, deepening the kiss, slipping your tongue into his mouth as you both fought for dominance. The sensation was electrifying, and you couldn't help but hum with pleasure as your lips moved in perfect sync.

Satisfied that something was finally happening between you two besides the tension and daydreams. He pulled your body into his by your hips, lifting you as you wrapped your legs around his waist. You could feel his muscles flexing beneath his shirt as he held you close.

You ran your hands up and down his chest, feeling the toned muscles beneath your fingertips and letting out a content sigh. He pulled away, looking deep into your eyes with such intensity that you felt your heart skip a beat. It was as if he could see right through you, and you were powerless to resist his gaze.

Before you could even react, he kissed down your jaw and attacked your neck, sucking and causing you to shiver in pleasure as you let out a soft mewl. The sensation was overwhelming, and you couldn't help but arch your back in response. Your sounds seemed to be like music to Hobie's ears, he made a mental note for next time.

You knew deep down that there would be a next time. The chemistry between you two was undeniable, and you were already craving more of his touch.

Layla's voice suddenly cut through the air from the watches, "Y/n Miguel is-- oh." You quickly pulled away from Hobie, letting out a loud gasp as you dropped your head in embarrassment and jumped down from his grasp.

"I'm so sorry, Hobie," you said, your voice laced with panic.

He reassured you, "Ahh... Don't be, I kissed you." You felt a wave of relief wash over you as he spoke, and you couldn't help but smile at his words.

You nodded awkwardly, still feeling a bit frazzled by the situation. Before things could get any more awkward, you quickly opened up a portal and headed back to HQ. As you traveled through the portal, you couldn't help but think about the kiss. You knew that things were about to get a lot more interesting.

Part 1

Part 3

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