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#How what they have could never be sullied by
pandorasflora · 1 day
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What was I made for? - Chapter 1
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Summary: When Neytiri ends up mating with Tsu'tey before the war, it leaves Jake heartbroken. Unable to handle the new role of Olo'eyktan, Mo'at arranges (forces) Jake to mate with her youngest daughter...You.
Pairing: Jake Sully x Neytiri's sister!Reader
Warnings: forced/ arranged marriage, one-sided enemies to lovers, Jake is kinda mean, reader is a softy, reader is left feeling like a second choice, she tries to act/ look like neytiri, angsty but it will be fluffy cuz i'm not a criminal, let me know if there's anymore.
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“Mama-You cannot ask me of this!” You cry, throwing your arms out and begging for your mother to reconsider. 
“You will do great as Tsahik, it is Eywa’s will.” She states calmly.
“He will not love me, Mother. He loves Neytiri…” You murmur, looking down at your feet.
“He will grow to love you. That is how me and your father began.”
“He will not see me.” You whimper, tears forming in your eyes. 
“Do you see him?” Nothing is said for a few moments…Is it really that obvious?
“I am giving up my happiness to serve him…Why must I mate in a loveless union?”
“Our clan is in desperate need for a new Tsahik and I am not getting any younger. Believe in yourself, daughter.” She takes your hand in hers and rubs it soothingly. She understands your worries, she was in your place years ago.
“But what about me? What about my feelings?” You plead
“You will begin to learn that leading a clan has its sacrifices…” She pulls you into a hug, tucking your head under her chin, rubbing her hands up and down your back softly.
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“Jake Sully, this is my daughter-”
“Is this going to take long? I have a meeting.” He and Mo’at both know there isn’t a meeting but you don’t. He’s willing to take that risk. She pauses. 
“I was hoping you two would get to know each other, you are to be mated in 3 days.”
Jake curses under his breath, rubbing his face in frustration. 
“Later, alright?” He mutters, already turning to leave.
“I can come to your kelku later?...If you would like-” You start. You’re willing to give this a try and make it work. 
“M’busy!” 
You watch in silence as he walks the way to Neytiri’s home.
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After spending the day preparing for your mating ceremony, you decide to drop off some food for Jake, like a little courting gift, as well as a bracelet. You’ve never done this before and it makes you feel all giddy and gooey inside. 
You walk the way to his home before knocking on the side of the door. No answer…You peak your head through the flap and see the kelku is empty, oh well. He’s just not home.
You decide to walk back to your own home that you share with your mother and that's when you see them. Jake and Neytiri giggling a little too close.
You have no right to be jealous. You only found out you were to be his mate this morning, and Neytiri doesn’t even like Jake that way. She grew to love Tsu’tey and they are a beautiful pair, soulmates even. So why do you feel like this? 
Maybe because you’ve had a silly little crush on the tawtute ever since he was ‘welcomed’ into your clan. His human features were so endearing and he was so pretty, you often found yourself sneaking glances when he was around. 
It was heartbreaking to watch him fall more and more in love with your sister, the perfect child. You could never hate her, she’s your big sister Neytiri, constantly giving hugs and words of wisdom but still…It didn’t make it hurt any less…Especially if your love life has been non-existent since the day you were born, no boys ever taking interest in you. 
You decide to walk up to them both, you miss your sister and you can give Jake your gift. You bring your fingers up to your forehead before bringing them down, bowing slightly. 
“Kaltxi, Ma’Tiri, Ma’Jake…”
Neytiri motions for you to sit next to her. “How has your day been?”
“It was…Good. I have been busy with preparations.” You say, she hums. 
You fall into an awkward silence, Jake fidgeting with nerves. He eventually caves and gets up to leave.
“Wait! Jake, I have something…For you.” You quickly jump up and thrust the food and bracelet into his hands, smiling slightly which looks more like a grimace. 
“Oh…Uh, thanks?” He furrs his eyebrows before turning away and leaving. You sigh heavily before sitting back down with Neytiri…There was a couple seconds of silence before she speaks.
“You love him already, don’t you?”
You sigh again…”Yeah…”
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Divine fire, hellish greed: dark fantasy AU concept
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“ A willful boy with a formidable curse.
A mad king revived in a new form.
What has destiny in plan for each? ”
Lore/context (can be skipped):
In a land of wonders and magic, two races have long since coexisted in its seas, forests and deserts; Humans and the Na’vi. Legends often spoke that Na’vi stemmed from forest spirits, who inhabited Eywa’s embrace in times long forgotten, while humans are said to be descendants of stars hanging over the land.
Some say that when a star falls, a human is born. They are often thereby called “sky-people”, or “people of the stars”.
However, because their origins are not of the land, they never possessed a kuru; a way to bond with their new home. As result, many began forgetting great mother’s teachings, and that lead to the emergence of kingdoms. Na’vi followed suit, but not fully, their towers built of stone found above ground and hugged by sprawling vines, keeping them steady, connected.
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Human kingdoms grew higher and higher, pale and perfect in their shape, perhaps to reach the stars they have long ago abandoned, and that brought them at conflict with their home. Digging and mining disrupted a fragile balance, yet kingdoms, one in particular, kept growing amidst the chaos.
Its king, Selfridge, was notorious for his greed, which soon led him to discovering a new, never before seen type of magic. One that could make the grandest of ships fly as if they were lighter than a feather, and create weapons of unthinkable destruction. Life-force magic was capable of performing incredible feats as long as wielded by an experienced sorcerer, but there was no such thing as an infinite resource. Everything, including magic, had to draw from something, and draw it did, from the life of Eywa’eveng herself.
As ships soared, the magic drained energy from land itself, from the tiniest sprout to the strongest pali. Not even the mighty thanator could draw breath once the spell went into effect. It killed all which is in sight to fuel itself.
That is the cost, and majority of humans accepted it. Those who didn’t, migrated to Na’vi kingdoms to live amongst those who shared their reverence for nature.
One of life-force magic creations were avatars. Creatures conjured by trapping stolen energy and giving it shape of its own, allowing an attuned human mind to travel into it while their primary body slept. That way, knight Jake Sully became a spy in the Omatikaya kingdom. However, not long after, he realised the devastating effect of their magic and how it ultimately doomed everyone in Eywa’eveng to annihilation. Running away with other Na’vi sympathisers, he tamed the legendary Toruk, believed by most to be a divine guardian spirit of the great mother embodied by a fire-breathing apex predator, and rallied the clans against a growing empire, which, shortly after Jake’s escape, was overtaken by commander Quaritch in a military coup. The new king was insane, obsessed with power and revenge for Sully’s betrayal, but said madness ultimately lead to his defeat, as princess Neytiri of Omatikaya pierced him with her father’s arrows.
It was a new era of peace, and humans refusing to side with the Na’vi were told to leave Eywa’s lands.
Not everyone had such option though.
Story:
A boy with honey brown eyes and blonde curls was found in the abandoned Hell’s Gate castle after the great battle, allegedly the son of Miles Quaritch himself; and as no one dared to take him in, Mo’at made a decision that the child was to be kept in their kingdom, under Na’vi’s watchful eye.
Years passed and the Sully royal family grew, now having four children of their own! One, an adopted girl birthed by Grace Augustine’s avatar.
The human child meanwhile grew around plethora of workers around the village and was eventually taught the craft of caring for pali, the ikran, and the wild gardens. He grew into a crude, stubborn, but hard-working and gold-hearted stable boy, always eager to help, and spending every minute of his free time around the royal children who took an immense liking to him, and eventually saw him as a brother.
Although Spider, as he was now called for his affinity to climbing, never experienced parental love, he tried not dwelling on his circumstances and keep his head high…but it was never that simple.
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As humans of the destroyed kingdom began returning, trying to rebuild as early as when Spider Socorro turned ten, a wild Toruk has been sighted in the fringes of Omatikaya territory. In the span of five years, said Toruk became a looming threat, as he was vicious and terrorised villages with a fury never before seen. Many whispered that it was the great mother’s wrath from seeing malicious sky people return to her lands.
In one of those attacks, at night, innocent farmers lost their lives to the fire-breathing dragon, and as princess Kiri ran to the stables the next morning to share tragic news with her brother…there was not a trace of him.
In fact, there was no trace of Spider in the entire castle. He vanished.
.
Meanwhile, the mad king has been revived, brought to life using previously discovered magic, and together with his most loyal undead men and women, whom he deemed jackals, got a task of upmost importance from the new queen herself; Francis Ardmore. She was a regal one, standing tall and proud despite her small height in comparison to the old ruiler, and promised him a high rank in the court if he does as told and stays loyal.
“I’m asking this because I don’t wish to offend you by underestimating your abilities…why do you trust me not to overthrow you the first chance I get, to take what is rightfully mine?”
“Because the cavern between the Na’vi and humans has never been wider, all thanks to what you’ve done to the Omatikaya kingdom, commander. Whatever influence you have left exist under my rule. If you want a chance at power again, a chance at trust from these people, you’ll need me.”
And so, with the promise of reward dangling over his head, Quaritch and his jackals set out on a journey towards the kingdom of ash to which only he knew the route, said to be inhabiting the most capable mages to have ever walked Eywa’eveng. The new empire will need a good alliance to thrive.
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Barely a week into their journey, the squad got their hands on a curious catch. A boy with a mane of golden curls who snuck into their camp at night to steal some much needed food. Too bad that Zdinarsk had gotten the gift of foresight with her revival.
“And who might you be, little one?” Quaritch asked with a smirk.
“Spider…S-Socorro…” The teen responded, shaking, but determined.
The smirk slid off of king’s face. He couldn’t help but introduce himself, and inquired as to what an heir of his had forgotten in dangerous forest depths.
“I’m sick. I’m looking for a cure. Was told that there were mages in the south who knew a remedy to anything.” He mumbled.
“Well isn’t that a lucky coincidence? I think I know who you’re looking for. It’s the ash kingdom court mages, no?”
Spider gasped.
“I know my way to them.” He got down on one knee. “And I can lead you there, boy, but not without payback. Say, that jewellery on your neck is awfully familiar. You Omatikaya?”
The boy kept silent.
“I reckon you are, so how about this…” He smiled again. “You lead us to the mountain dragons; the banshee your people tame, and we give you a ride all the way to the mages.”
Spider had no choice as the king would never willingly let go of his newfound heir, but Miles wanted to present him with an illusion that would keep him docile.
“…alright.”
.
And so they travelled for what was undoubtedly the longest week of Spider’s life. The mad king he’s been told of, who ravaged the lands that were home to him, now walked side by side with the boy as if nothing happened. It angered him, how there seemed to have been no remorse on his end, and Socorro hated being angry. It made his chest burn.
Quaritch was not blind to the hate of course, but it was worth it. He never thought he’d have the boy with him again, and yet there he was; grown, sassy, bold, and with a smile so bright it could cure death itself.
Perhaps this journey was not for nothing after all.
.
Barely a second week in, the dam had burst. A minor inconvenience between father and son erupted into a loud argument over history, morals and convictions. Quaritch should have expected it. Should have known that a child of his, abandoned by their father, would bear a painful grudge. That the wound was deeper that the blonde originally let on with his constant quips, but he never could have expected what came after.
“I HATE you! YOU’RE A MONSTER!“ The boy roared, and jackals stepped away in growing caution, noticing as something in his chest glowed through the tunic.
The roars turned animalistic, agonising, feral. Noises neither a human nor Na’vi could muster.
Spider clawed at the ground as his own fury at Quaritch, at the recoms, at the humans, consumed him. Transformed him in a bright flash of fire.
“…kid..?..”
But there was no child at the clearing.
Only the Toruk; fire-breathing king of skies.
Wrath of Eywa personified.
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(Dividers: @cafekitsune)
Author’s notes: I’ve been cooking this AU for a really long time with the help of my bestie @dirtytransmasc , and there is an insane amount of lore and story to cover, but only if you guys are interested :) feel free to go to my ask box
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dootznbootz · 2 months
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Odypen definitely and equivalently adore each other BUT I weirdly can't see them as the type to actually say "I Love you".
They still definitely vocalize their love for each other but it's more so in "My Joy", and "Extraordinary Woman", "Strange Woman/Man", etc. And very cheesy lines (both say some cheesy shit in the Odyssey, and he definitely does in the Iliad as well. "Joy like a drowning sailor seeing land" bit???)
I could see "I adore you" but even then, that's probably during very specific moments but the actual "I love you"??? I just typed it just now for fic shit and... It weirdly just didn't feel right and I don't know why. 😅
Idk maybe it's kind of because I see them as over the top in ways, they love wordplay and riddles and I think they'd almost think "...That's not good enough >:( " about it??? I don't know???😂
#I wrote this last night. I'll do the asks I got later. don't worry! :D#I am the cheese god remember?😅#I think these two would try to “out-cheese” each other and whoever is left speechless first loses#“I would forget my own name before I would ever forget you” bullshit. CHEESY#And yes. “I sleep in our nest with you or outside on the dirt” stupidity >:D#I plan for Odysseus as a beggar to ask why she waits so long. As he's been gone a longer amount of time than the time they had together#(Simply asking as reassurance. He knows his answer. Calypso asked him. but what about Penelope?) but she gets mad at the#“Beggar” and pities him as he must be telling the truth about having a miserable life if he never got the chance to know such devotion#How what they have could never be sullied by#something as trivial as distance and years. How the years with him were the best in her life. Only made better by their son.#'My dear Joy made songs and poems about love a reality as that was simply the life we shared. Even separated our 'song' will always echo#no matter how long it's been. I'LL make sure it always does. And I know he's doing the same... That strange man used to say that#even if he died his corpse would drag itself back to us before he'd ever give up.'#...I'm not one for 'odyssey zombie au' but when I first heard it yeah. :'D Came up with this back then#“His eyes as hard as flint or horn-” Bullshit! The sad lil fuck is hiding sobs with coughs and telling her to keep away for fear of her#catching whatever “illness” he has. The nice thing about being disguised as old means sickly old man works.#...#I'm noticing that Odysseus has a lot of silly oneliners while I write Penelope with a shit ton of set up :'D#They are so silly and I love them so much#...I wrote a lot :'D#Mad rambles#shot by odysseus#my headcanons#odypen#yahoo!!!#sometimes I wonder if I should tag this with more things but I don't want to taint the regular tags with my bullshit :'D I KNOW I'm insane
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dirtytransmasc · 3 months
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atwow hot take:
if jake had said his "son for a son" shit out loud and spider had heard him, he would have been so beyond pissed, he would be seeing red.
spider loved his little siblings so much, neteyam included, even after they grew apart. he loved them like they were his own blood and protected them like they were too (we see a lot more of them together in the comics, where spider is the big brother without a doubt). neteyam's death most certainly rocked him hard, even if he hasn't really been able to show it (how could he? he's already going through all the shit with his dad and the RDA and their nonsense, he can't grieve around neytiri, he's just so tired after it all. he doesn't have the room or the energy to grieve yet)
so if jake had the audacity to say that to/around spider not even a few hours after he watched his little brother get shot after coming to save him, after he stared at the bullet hole in his back, after he watched him take his last breaths, after he watched the light leave his eyes, after he watched his little brother die for him; if he said that while his little brother's body lay in a pool of his own blood not even ten feet away, not even cold yet, blood still clinging to his chest, the scent of it still filling the air: he would have lost his shit.
because the disrespect for his brother is wild.
jake was an active player in spider's neglect and abuse for the last 16 years, he let it happen, he helped it happen. he tried to send spider with the humans, tried to take him away from his siblings, from the forests, from eywa to live with his foster family that didn't love him (not to mention Nash was an asswipe of epic proportions) and the RDA of all people. he had referred to spider as a stray animal since he was little. he was the reason spiders life was hell.
and after all that, years and years of putting him in shit positions and allowing him to suffer the fate of being forever unloved and uncared for (by an adult authority figure, cause I love the kids, but they don't make up for the gap left by a parent), this is what it took for jake to care about him? his little brother had to die in front of him first? he had to be traded out to fill the space of a corpse, to fill in the gap left by his little brother's death?
in canon, spider was in deep in shock with nothing to break him from it, he wasn't in the place to really think about any of it, and I'm sure we're gonna see this anger in the coming movies, but if jake had said it out loud, that would have been enough to snap spider right out of it, and he would have given jake a piece of his mind, I just know it.
#he loves neteyam too much to let jake do that. to say that. he'd never allow it.#spider is such a good big brother. he loves his siblings too much.#if jake had said that to his face there would have been hell to pay. regardless of how out of it spider was with shock/grief/pure exhaustio#spider doesn't even care about the disrespect being done to him by that statement. he just cares about neteyam.#cause how could a father say that? how could he just move on. fill the gap with a “stray” as he puts it. take him in after all he'd done to#him? it wasn't fair#it wasn't fair to him and it most certainly wasn't fair to neteyam#I love spider. he deserves a family that loves him and wants him. he wants it. but this is not what either of us asked for.#that line has always rubbed me wrong. and it would have rubbed spi wrong too. I just know it.#I really hope we see spider express his rightful anger/disgust to this whole thing next movie#though I worry he will be too busy feeling guilty over everything and feeling like he just has to be grateful. but one can hope.#he deserves to be angry#and his dynamic with neteyam deserves to be explored. cause its a crime that it was ignored in the movie.#avatar 2#avatar the way of water#spider socorro#miles spider socorro#miles socorro#neteyam#neteyam sully#neteyam te suli tsyeyk'itan#jake sully#I wanna punch that man so hard istg. I can't with him. I won't say I hate him. but lord have mercy I can't with him.#my baby boys deserved better#spider was neteyam's big brother. that's my agenda#we need to talk about them more
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gojorgeous · 3 months
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"creature of myth."
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pairing: vampire!gojo x fem!human!reader summary: when you receive an offer of marriage from a mysterious wealthy lord, it’s too good a deal for your family to turn down. but nothing could be so perfect... right? content: MDNI (18+  ONLY), dark content, nsfw, gets dubcon/noncon in some spots, yandere behavior from gojo, implied death/k*lling of a character (not reader or gojo), arranged marriage, victorian au, plot that ends with porn lmao, spooky dooky vibes, blood, blood sucking/eating, praise, biting, unprotected sex, creampie, virgin!reader, discussion of virginity, cherry popping, pain, pet names (princess/love), reader is highkey clueless about sex, discussion of masturbation, ideas of masturbation as “sinful”, very minor religious themes, fated “mates”, gojo is highkey insane, coercion and manipulation, like SO much neck kissing, ooc gojo??? (had to alter his character to match a victorian vampire lord LMAO). a/n: PLEASE READ THE CONTENT WARNINGS. THERE IS DARK CONTENT AHEAD. is this a gojo fic or a twilight fic?? Going back to my roots fr fr. straight down to the “SAY IT, SAY IT”. this fic is also way too long my apologies bbs. i hope you like a hefty side of plot with your porn. parts of this fic feel way too cheesy to me but sometimes i eat that up, yk?? this fic was inspired by this amazing work by @rice5x ! and, finally, thank you all for the support on my most recent fics. i'm just getting back into being active on this blog and it's been amazing reading each and every comment/reblog/ask. they genuinely fill me with so much joy. keep them coming hehe. anyway, i hope you enjoy and remember, ALL AGELESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED. credits: dividers by @cafekitsune. banner art by @ndsoda on twitter. wc: 11.6k (sowwy)
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You remember perfectly the way your mother’s jaw dropped when Satoru Gojo proposed to you. You’d never seen the man, and you still hadn’t. He’d asked to marry you via messenger, a simple letter delivered by hand with a list of all the things he’d be willing to pay for your hand. Offers of money, land, protection, connection- anything so long as he got you. You’d thought it was a joke. Your father nearly took a shovel to the head of the poor messenger, thinking the letter was some kind of cruel prank, some sort of targeted disrespect. You’d only started to believe when you really looked- saw the Gojo crest embroidered on the man’s suit, the fine leather of his boots. If it was a prank, somebody had spent a great deal of money and effort to pull it off. 
You’d asked for proof nonetheless, and you’d gotten it. Documents signed and sealed with a well-known waxen crest, gifts that could only have been purchased by a wealthy lord. The one thing you never got was the lord himself. He refused to see you, to come down from his mysterious castle on the hill. It didn’t surprise you. He rarely deemed town worthy of his presence. He had a reputation as a recluse, as a man who only ever liked to see and never be seen. What little glimpses people got of him were usually through the dark window of his carriage. Still, his appearance preceded him. White hair, light eyes… “haunting” said those who had the luck to see him. Those who went to work for the lord tended to return… changed— if they returned at all. 
You accepted, of course. How could you not? You were a peasant family with no status or wealth to your name. The promises Lord Gojo had made would make your parents into aristocrats all on their own. But that left you wondering… why did he want you? You offered him no benefit. If anything, you sullied his bloodline. The question scratched at the back of your mind. It came to you while you ate breakfast, while you washed your clothes, while you weeded in the garden. Some part of you told you that you needed the answer before you ever stepped foot in that castle. You needed that answer, but you’d never get it. 
Your wedding wasn’t even a wedding- just a piece of paper that had already been signed and witnessed, once again delivered by a familiar messenger. You signed at your dining room table and… that was that. You were married. 
Later that night the carriages arrive. Men flood your home, all dressed in blue velvet, the Gojo crest embroidered on their chests. They seem puzzled when you tell them you’ve packed all your belongings into a measly three bags. 
You say a quick goodbye to your parents, drawing them into stiff embraces. You love them, and they love you, but you can’t bear to see their faces as they send you away to a man who couldn’t even show his face for your wedding. 
The carriage ride is somehow longer than you’d thought it would be- apparently, the castle’s size makes it seem deceptively close. The trip is rocky and twisty and altogether unpleasant as you steadily make your way toward the castle gates. By the time you reach them you think you’ve probably dozed in and out of consciousness at least half a dozen times. 
The castle is even more intimidating up close. Spires that swirl into the clouds, sculptures that stare, doors that look more suited to being locked than opened. It’s… terrifying. 
When you finally roll to a stop, you move for the door. When you swing it open you get your fair share of strange looks from your attendants and remember that you should have waited for the footman. Your face heats as you climb out anyway, unwilling to subject yourself to the further humiliation of waiting for assistance. 
Your feet hit gravel and all you can do is stare- up, up, up, to where the castle’s peaks disappear into the fog. When your eye flashes to a window on the east side of the manor you think you see a swaying curtain. You tuck your arms around yourself and shiver, but it’s not from the cold. 
You nearly stumble over your feet on your first step inside. The entrance hall is larger than your former house, with ceilings that stretch so high you can hardly make out the figures on the frescoes that adorn it. Silver and blue drape everywhere, the Gojo family colors. You swallow when you see a chair that is most definitely worth more than your family’s annual income. 
The floors are marble and when your worn heels clack against it, you only feel reminded that you don’t belong here. That question pricks in your mind again as you pass portraits of every Gojo heir to have lived in the last three hundred years. Why me? Why me? Why me? 
Your footman deposits you in your room, a place more lavish than you’ve ever seen. You have a four poster bed with a canopy of blue velvet, a window that overlooks a sprawling estate, and more square footage than you’ve ever dreamed of. 
“Pull this if you need any sort of assistance, ma’am.” 
You turn to see your footman referencing a silver cord at your bedside. You assume it’s one of those contraptions that rings a bell in the servants’ quarters. You try to hide your amazement- you’ve never seen one in real life before. 
You clear your throat and give your most ladylike nod. “Thank you, um-” you pause, your brow furrowing. “I’m sorry, I don’t think I asked your name.” 
Your footman appears stunned to silence, like he’d never expected you to care about his existence, much less his name. He recovers quickly, though, and forces a small smile. “Thomas, ma’am.”
You smile and it’s genuine. “Thank you, Thomas.”He bows and makes a beeline for the door, but you have one more question. “Oh, um, Thomas-” He freezes, turning slowly on his heel to face you. 
“Yes, my lady?” 
You cringe at the title. The sound of it creeps across your skin, foreign and… wrong. Why me? Why me? Why me?
You clear your throat again. “Do you know, um, well-” You shift, trying to word your question properly. “Do you know when I might see the Lord?” 
There is a pause, a moment of tension and silence, and then an answer. “No, my lady.”
Thomas does not stick around for more questioning. The door clicks shut behind him and then you're left with only the sound of retreating footsteps. 
You’re stunned to say the least, mouth still halfway open, more questions on the tip of your tongue. Should you seek him out? Was that proper? Would he come to you? Would he meet you for dinner, perhaps? Surely he would come to your room tonight to… consummate. Would that be the first time you lay eyes on him? When he’s over you? 
You sigh. There’s nothing much to be done about it now. You find your way to the bed and sit down hesitantly. It feels like a crime to rumple such primped and polished cotton. You do it anyway- it’s going to happen sometime, right? You fall back against the mattress and don’t fail to notice how utterly comfortable it is. The silvery patterns on your canopy swirl and bend together. You’re tired. You didn’t sleep much last night, anxious for the morning… and it’s only mid-afternoon now. You had time for a nap, right? Your eyes are closing before you can convince yourself it’s a bad idea and then you’re swept away into a world of warm darkness. 
You wake with a start. Your first thought is that it’s dark now. Your room is pitch black except for the stream of moonlight passing through your stupidly large window. Your mouth feels dry and your skin is cold, like you’ve just woken from a nightmare. If you have, you don’t remember it. Perhaps that’s a blessing. 
You sit up, combing a finger through your hair and laughing pitifully when you realize that you left your shoes on as you slept. You hope Thomas didn’t walk in to find you in yet another unladylike position. A glance at the foot of the bed reveals he might have. Your bags have arrived- all three of them. You eye them with a combination of longing and contempt. They don't match this place. They’re worn and used- everything here is shiny and new. Still, they’re all you have, and all you have left of your life before. All you have left of home. 
You stretch your arms above your head, nearly groaning at the burn in your muscles. The carriage ride did your body no favors and you suspect you’ll be sore for many days to come. 
You rise, no longer content to lie in bed. You’ve had your rest and, from the state of darkness outside, you suspect your new husband might be joining you soon. The thought twists a certain tightness into your gut, but you push it aside. If that was the price you paid for all he gave your family… then you’d pay it gladly. 
You start with candles, finding a box of matches at your bedside. You light every candelabra you can find. The room, the castle, seems so perpetually… black- like it soaks up every ray of light it touches. Even when you’ve finished it doesn’t feel like enough. You make a note to ask Thomas for more in the morning. 
You find a meal, carefully prepared and preserved, on a table near your dresser. Judging by the fact that it’s still warm, you conclude that it can’t be much past mid-evening. You originally intend to pick at the food as you unpack, but one bite has your mouth watering. It is the most delicious thing to ever touch your lips, complete with dessert waiting on the side. You clean your plate before moving onto your bags. 
You lay your clothes out on the bed. A few dresses, riding pants, undergarments, an assortment of ribbons and bows. At one time these items had been the finest things you owned- now you owned a castle. 
You find an armoire that looks like a master sculptor carved its edges and grab a dress, intending to hang it. Instead, your dress hits the floor when you part the doors to find the hangers already full. Your lips part. Luxury dresses of silk and satin line the rack, fading into some that appear more casual outfits of cotton and linen. You stretch a hand out, curious and utterly… amazed. To think your new husband had gone to all the effort… Your hand brushes purple silk and- 
“Do you like them?” 
You screech, jumping to face the voice at your back. It takes a moment for your eyes to find him, leaning casually against one post of your bed. Your breath is stolen for a second time. Snow white hair, piercingly blue eyes, pale soft skin… you know who he is even without looking at his dress, at the air of authority he claims. He’s your husband… and he is the most devastatingly beautiful thing you’ve ever seen. 
He laughs, then, and it’s a warmer sound than you’d thought it would be- rich and full. A sound that seeps into your bones and settles in your soul. 
“Sorry. Didn’t mean to scare you,” he says, but the twinkle in his eyes makes you think that perhaps that’s a lie. 
Your heart pounds and your eyes flash to the door. It’s shut. You didn’t hear it open, nor did you hear it close behind him. You also didn’t hear footsteps, didn’t hear breaths, didn’t hear him. 
He follows your gaze and laughs again, though it sounds a bit… strained? 
“I have a habit of being unintentionally lightfooted. I apologize.” 
Your heart is still pounding but you find it in yourself to have some decorum. You snap your jaw shut and bow your head slightly in respect. “You must be Lord Gojo. Forgive me for my insolence.” 
There’s a beat, and then footsteps– ones you actually hear this time. You clench your jaw when he stops before you and then nearly gasp when he takes your hand and brings it to his lips. 
“Satoru, please,” he winks and you think you might stop breathing. “I am your husband after all.” 
You force yourself to nod, to swallow, to act normal. But how can you in the presence of a man that looks like… that? There’s something too unreal about him, too perfect. It’s almost… unsettling. 
“Of course… Satoru.” 
He straightens and shows you a close-lipped smile that digs a dimple into his left cheek. You have to look away to avoid stumbling over your own feet. 
“So, do you like them?” Your brows furrow- “The dresses,” he clarifies. 
“O-oh.” Your features relax into an easy smile. You turn back to your armoire, running a hand along another gown. You don’t think you’ve ever touched something so… finely made. “I like them very much. I don’t know how to thank you.” 
There’s a little chuckle as you turn to face him again and you have to steel yourself before you meet his eyes. He’s mesmerizing, too mesmerizing. You think you could probably lose yourself in those eyes forever… 
“No need to thank me. If they don’t fit, we’ll call for the seamstress in the morning.” 
You nod softly, still lost to the situation. There’s a beat of silence in which your husband does nothing but… look at you. His eyes roam freely and the hair on your arms stands under his gaze. He traces the lines of your nose and jaw and lingers on your pulse. Can he see just how fast your heart is pounding?
“Did you… get dinner?” It’s a stupid question, you know, but you don’t think you can bear another second of that look he’s giving you. “I fell asleep and found a plate. I hope I didn’t prevent a proper meal…” You trail off. Perhaps you shouldn’t have pointed out your own shortcoming? 
He gives you another smile and you swear he inches just a little closer. “You did no such thing. I’m… perfectly satisfied.” 
You nod, glad that he doesn’t seem upset at the very least. Your lips press together, unsure of what to do or say. You’ve never had a husband before. Wasn’t he supposed to just sort of… put you on the bed and… do it?
Your eyes flit to said bed and your husband must see because he hurries to continue. 
“Well, I’ll see you in the morning then, hm?” His eyes flit to your armoire and back again. “Wear the blue dress with the lace to breakfast, yeah? Been dying to see it on you.” He chuckles like he’s just told some sort of amusing joke.
Your brows furrow. That was… not the topic you’d been expecting. “You’re not…” You feel your cheeks heat and tighten your jaw. “Not staying the night?” 
His lashes lower a fraction and those eyes pierce you again. You don’t think you could move even if you wanted to, even with him prowling closer, each step eating up the space between you. He doesn’t stop until you’re nose to nose and you can feel his breath fanning over your cheeks. It’s cold somehow, chilling, and you shiver. He smirks. 
“Not tonight.” 
His head dips and for a moment you think he’s going to kiss you, but then he’s bypassing your mouth altogether and- his lips connect to your pulse. His mouth is cool, just like his breath, and you shiver uncontrollably under his touch. 
His touch is just a fleeting moment, just a wrinkle in time, and then he’s gone. His footsteps are quiet brushes on the hardwood and the creak of the door even seems tamed in his presence. 
“Goodnight,” is all he says, and then he’s gone. 
You climb into your bed an hour later wondering what in the world just happened. 
~  
You do wear the blue dress to breakfast and you can only gape in the mirror when you realize that it fits perfectly. It has you second-guessing yourself. Had you sent your measurements in advance and forgotten about it? No, you’d only sent a handful of pieces of information to the Lord prior to your marriage and you remembered all of them very clearly. Everything had gone through a messenger, everything had been clear and direct– you would have remembered sending your measurements– you didn’t. So had he just… guessed? 
That seemed impossible with how everything fit you like a glove, but it was the only explanation you had. The only one that made sense. 
When you join Satoru for breakfast it’s in a sitting room as lavishly decorated as the rest of the castle, but perhaps organized to be a bit more… liveable. He has no plate in front of him, only a tin cup that hides the contents of whatever he’s drinking. You assume coffee or juice. Perhaps he’s just not a breakfast person. 
“It fits!” he says. His hands clasp together in front of him and he smiles again, dimples and all. 
You nod and fight the heat that bubbles beneath your cheeks as you take your seat. “Yes, perfectly.”
A plate is set before you and a glance up reveals it’s Thomas serving your breakfast. You smile, hoping for some acknowledgement from him, for a small piece of comfort. Instead, you get his averted gaze and quick retreat. Your brows furrow, but before you can say anything, Satoru is back to speaking. 
“I hope Thomas treated you well yesterday?” 
You glance up, but Satoru’s eyes aren’t on you, they’re on your footman. His smile is bright, but it’s anything but friendly. You fight a shiver. 
You glance at Thomas. He’s perfectly still, perfectly straight, but you think you see a muscle clench in his jaw. You clear your throat. “Y-Yes. Thomas was very helpful.” When Satoru keeps staring the boy down you add, “-and very respectful.” 
That seems to satisfy. Satoru breaks his stare and some of the tension in the air instantly eases. He shoots you another dimpled smile, this one with a little more warmth. “Perfect.” 
There’s a beat and then he’s standing, draining whatever he has in his cup and then straightening his jacket. “Well, I have some work to do. I’ll see you for dinner?” He’s grinning again, like it’s so normal for a man to abandon his bride on their wedding night and then again the morning after. All you can do is nod. He chuckles. “See you then, princess.” And then he’s gone.
~
If this is to be your life you don't know how you will survive it. You spend the day milling about. Through the gardens, through the castle, through the stables. Thomas is never far behind, but any attempt at conversation is nipped in the bud by hit shortness. It’s like he fears coming too close. He’s never closer than a couple paces except when he has to bring you something, only to retreat again as soon as possible. The other servants barely pay you any mind apart from giving you a respectful greeting and then immediately averting their eyes. There is no work to be done, no guests to be had, no parties to plan… and no Satoru. You don’t see your husband once on tour around the grounds. You ask Thomas where his office is only for him to vaguely point out a window in the east tower. You don’t see so much as a ripple in the curtains. 
Dinner comes around at the pace of a snail. When it’s finally time to get dressed a lady’s maid whose name you don’t even catch arrives to help you lace your dress. As soon as your corset is deemed tight enough she’s back out the door with a curtsy. Thomas leads you to the dining room and your eyes roam the whole way. Even after having spent the whole day exploring, there are halls and corridors that you’ve yet to step foot in. 
The dining room is just as gorgeous as the rest of the place– filled with singular items that could feed entire families for years. Somehow, you think you’ve already grown accustomed to such things, since the only thing you truly care to look at is your husband. Satoru’s already seated, but he stands when you enter, looping around the table to pull a chair out for you. 
You give him your most genuine smile, accepting a kiss to your knuckles in greeting before you settle. “How was your day?” you ask as he takes his seat again. 
He chuckles. “Perfectly fine. And how was yours, princess?” Your nose crinkles. That’s the second time he’s called you that. Something about it feels wrong. You’re still getting used to being a lady. Princess feels even worse. 
“It was… good.”
You watch a perfect white brow arch in the candlelight. “Oh? Just good?” You don’t miss the way his eyes flicker to the corner– to Thomas. 
You hurry to elaborate. “Well, I just– I can’t help but feel as if there’s not much… use for me.” Servants flood in, some carrying wine, others carrying trays that hold more food than the both of you could ever possibly consume. 
That brow arches impossibly higher. “Use?” His lips crack into that smile again, but it’s tight this time. Too tight. “You have no use. You only enjoy yourself. Surely Thomas has told you that.” 
A plate of steaming food plops in front of you. Even its heavenly smell can’t quell the sudden dread in your gut. “Of course! Of course he did.” Your stomach twists and you decide that perhaps now is not the time to press the subject. “I’ll just… I’ll try riding tomorrow.” You hate riding, but it’s the first thing that comes to mind. 
Satoru’s smile thaws into something less menacing. “I’m sure you’ll enjoy that.” 
You nod eagerly. “I’m sure I will.” 
You grab your fork, eager for a new subject. From what you can tell, dinner is roast chicken and vegetables, though it’s the luxury version as everything seems to be. The spices are intoxicating and the green beans are even arranged in a pretty little pattern that makes them look too good to eat. You do anyway. The first bite nearly makes you moan, but you chew slowly, delicately, trying not to let your upbringing show.
It’s not until several bites later that you realize you’re the only one eating. A quick glance reveals your husband has no platter, no chicken or green beans. He’s only… watching you. You clear your throat, dabbing at your lips with a napkin. 
“You’re not… eating?”
That permanent smile grows a little wider and you can’t help but feel as if there’s something… menacing about it. “Ate before I came.” 
Your brows furrow. “Oh. Were you on the road?” 
You think you see something wild flash in his eyes. “No.” 
The rest of dinner passes slowly, almost painfully. Satoru doesn’t eat a bite, doesn’t even look enticed. You wonder how that’s possible when it smells like a spice bomb went off in the dining room. 
By the time you’ve cleared your plate you’ve discussed everything from the number of horses in the stables to kinds of crops grown on the estate. It’s comforting to know a little more about your new home, but it’s not enough. 
“Is there a library?” you ask. You’re on dessert now. It’s the best chocolate cake you’ve ever had and it takes everything in you to hold back a moan each time it touches your tongue. 
“Of course.” Your husband’s eyes flicker to Thomas again and you’re honestly starting to fear for the poor footman’s life. Everytime you ask a question it’s like Satoru is angry it hasn’t already been answered. “It’s yours to use as you please.” 
You smile lightly. “Perfect. Thank you.” 
He softens a bit at that. “Is there anything specific you wanted to read about?” 
You shrug. “The estate, I suppose. I should know my home’s history, no?”
His eyes get that wild look again, that sparkle that you know speaks to nothing good. “Oh, absolutely. I have some personal favorites to recommend. I’ll leave them aside for you?” 
You swallow and give him a shallow nod. “That would be perfect. Thank you.” 
He chuckles. “My pleasure.” 
When dessert is finally over, you stand slowly. Satoru’s not far behind you, saying he’ll walk you to your room. Your heart leaps at his words. Will he stay with you tonight? 
He offers you his arm in the hall and your mouth runs dry when you feel the corded muscle beneath his jacket. By the time you reach your room, you’re thinking of tugging him in behind you. His denial to stay with you last night was not only confusing, but… off putting. Nearly offensive. Did he not like how you looked? Did he think something was wrong with you? 
You muster all the courage you possess and force your lips apart. “Will you stay with me tonight?” 
His eyes spark again and you hold your breath. He presses closer. This is it, you think. His lips hover over yours, eyes glimmering in the candlelight. And then he dips his head, his mouth pressing to your pulse. 
“Not tonight,” he whispers– and then he’s gone. 
~
You wake suddenly. It’s the middle of the night, you gather. The light streaming through the window is weak enough to only be that of the moon. 
Your heart is pounding and your skin is slick with sweat despite the chill in your bones. A nightmare, you think. It must have been a nightmare. 
As you settle back into your sheets you swear you see a ripple in the darkness. You close your eyes. If your nightmare is real, you’d rather not see it coming.
~
The library is huge. It’s sprawling and smells of paper and leather and everytime Thomas lights a candle you flinch at the idea that one misplaced spark could end thousands of years of knowledge. 
The books Satoru left you are… perfect. Just what you were looking for. They’re all comprehensive volumes of the history of the estate, many of which reference each other. You’re stunned to see that several are written by very well-known authors of both the past and the present. You knew the Gojo family’s influence reached far, but not that far. You peruse the titles. The Gojos: A History, A History of the Gojo Crest, History of the Gojo Castle, Revisiting the Gojo Family: A Comprehensive History. Altogether you have well over a few thousand pages of information– but there’s one book that doesn’t fit with the rest. It’s relatively unassuming. A black cover with some sort of gold rune etched onto its front. When you flip to the title page it reads “Creatures of Myth and Where To Find Them”. Your brows furrow. You slide it to the side– must have gotten mixed in with the others, you think.
~
You ask Thomas to bring the books to your room. He does. Very respectfully. He sets them on your bedside table and then retreats like a kicked puppy with only a polite goodbye. You sigh. His behavior has only gotten stranger in the past few days. You think the servants’ coldness must have something to do with Satoru, but you can’t figure out why. Had he ordered them to stay away? Why would he? 
You decide it’s a question for another day and dive into your books. You spend hours, days, reading every chapter, page, and word. The pure amount of information is dizzying. Apparently this specific estate had been in the hands of the Gojo family since the eighth century (with several razings and consequential rebuilds). You also learn that Satoru was not only the most wealthy lord on the continent, but the most wealthy man. Even wealthier than the king apparently, though that fact was kept fairly under wraps to protect the crown’s ego. The estimates of your husband’s net worth made your head spin.
Satoru joins you for breakfast and dinner every day. You never see him eat a morsel. It’s… unsettling to say the least. It’s always just that tin cup, filled with something you could never quite see. You develop a pattern of waking in the night, too, with the overwhelming sense that something is watching you. Sometimes you could swear you feel the bed shift as you jerk awake. Each time you simply close your eyes and try your best to slow your heart, convinced your mind is playing tricks on you. 
Your days feel a little more productive with a book in your hands, but you’ve read them all three times over by the time a fortnight has passed. You find yourself packing them up to return to Thomas when a certain black cover catches your attention. You grab it from the pile and settle back into your seat. You’ve nothing better to do, right? 
You flip back the cover, revealing a familiar title. “Creatures of Myth and Where to Find Them”. You don’t recognize the author’s name. A quick scroll through the table of contents reveals nothing particularly interesting, but you pick a random chapter on ghouls and decide to start there. 
It’s fascinating. Nothing about the style is boring and the words fly by. Your silly little myth book is a page turner. By the time you notice the light has started dying you’ve read about ghosts, fairies, werewolves, and goblins– all of which have been a delightful little read. A glance at the clock reveals you have a half hour before dinner. One more chapter, you think. Your eyes skim the title. “Vampires [Vampyr]”. 
You skim the first paragraphs until your eyes settle on a line that catches your eye. 
“Contrary to popular belief, vampires are not always crazed blood-hungry monsters. Many live among humans quite comfortably and are able to avoid detection with a little well-placed effort.” 
You purse your lips. What a… terrifying thought. You skim a little further. 
“A vampire’s key characteristic is, of course, their desire and need to drink human blood as sustenance. However, a vampire can be spotted sooner if one is able to recognize their subtler traits. Vampires often have skin lacking any sort of flush. The lack of blood in their veins results in a sickly pallor, even after the most rigorous exercise. Their skin is also noticeably cold to the touch. At best, a vampire’s body will reach room temperature. Vampires can also be noted for their preternatural beauty. They will stand out as the most attractive person in any crowd. Finally, a vampire will have fangs. If one wishes to identify a vampire, one only needs a good look at their teeth”.
A chill settles over your skin. You flip ahead a few pages. 
“Vampires are unable to consume typical human food. Should they attempt to, their bodies will immediately reject any and all foreign substances.” 
Your stomach drops. You don’t want to think about why. You skip the rest of the paragraph. 
“Vampires possess several supernatural abilities that set them apart as a human’s predator rather than their equal. Vampires are known to move unnaturally fast and are notably light footed. If a vampire does not wish to be heard, they will not be. A vampire’s strength is inhuman, well over ten times that of the average man. They also have a penchant for darkness, an ability to hide away in the shadows that cannot be explained. Oftentimes they will seem to appear from thin air.”
You skip ahead again.
“Vampires have been known to take mates. Mates usually come in the form of another vampire, but in some cases a human has been chosen. Vampires are fiercely protective of their mates, bordering on obsession. Any person deemed a threat to their bond or their mate’s safety is usually disposed of quickly. Oftentimes, vampires make these decisions with haste, with little regard for whether or not the threat was real. A vampire will do everything in their power to please their mate, but have been known to forcibly restrain their mates in situations of unrequited feelings. Above all else, vampires wish to possess their mates. Two bonded vampires will sometimes spiral into gloriously destructive fits in their endless desire to protect and possess one another. A vampire bonded to a human will show an increasingly protective nature, often isolating their mate from others.”
Your heart pounds. A bead of sweat rolls down your back. You flip the pages, desperate– desperate for a piece of information that will save you from the thoughts spilling in your mind, from the thoughts you will do anything not to believe. You reach the “Where to Find Them” subsection and nearly gasp with relief. Surely, vampires do not pose as wealthy lords of Europe? 
“Vampires can be found everywhere. They do not exist in only one country or continent, but all over the world. Odds are that you have faced at least one vampire in your life, unknowingly or not. Some vampires choose to live solitary lives, surviving in the wilderness where human society will not attempt to tame their wild nature. Others choose to live among humans, some even existing in positions of very high authority.” 
No, no, no. This can’t be happening to you. It can’t be real. You’re dreaming, you’re having one of those nightmares again. You’re going to wake up any second. 
“One tale recounts a razing of the Gojo estate in the 12th century.” 
You’re panting, hyperventilating. This isn’t happening. 
“Soldiers of the enemy force recounted a singular man, the son and heir of the then Lord Gojo, taking out a minimum of 800 men. He was described as having his family’s characteristic white hair as well as blue eyes. Eyewitness accounts depict the Gojo heir as covered in blood and killing savagely and with inhuman strength.” 
No, no, no. 
“(See next page for only existing portrait)”
Your fingers tremble but you can’t stop them. There’s no way. It’s not possible. 
You flip the page and Satoru stares back at you. 
Knock! Knock! Knock!
You nearly scream. Your door rattles angrily, but you’re not sure you can answer it, not with the knowledge flooding your mind. The knocking continues. You run your hand over your face and smooth down your hair. You feel frazzled, dirty, despite not having moved from your chair all day. Another knock prompts you to set your book aside and stand. You do your best to compose yourself, to put on a straight face. You fail instantly when you pull back the door not to reveal your faithful attendant, not Thomas, but Satoru. 
You bite back a shriek and instead force a smile. You’re suddenly very aware of the blood pounding in you veins and of the fact that he most likely knows. 
“Hello,” he says, but his voice is lower than usually, more intense. 
You force a breath into your lungs. “Hello,” you answer, but it sounds more like a squeak than a greeting. 
Something flashes in his eyes, something familiar, something that is no longer interesting but rather terrifying. “Are you alright? You seem a little… flushed.” The concern on his face feels anything but genuine. 
“I’m fine,” you answer, but even you can tell that reply too quickly, too eagerly. You rush to cover it up. “Is it time for dinner? Where’s Thomas?” 
His lip twitches and you see a muscle in his jaw flex. “Thomas has… left us.” 
No. This wasn’t happening to you. There was no way this was happening to you. 
“He… what?” There’s an unmistakable wobble in your voice that only causes Satoru’s face to fall further. 
“It’s no matter. He’s gone. Now it’s just you and me, hm?” He chuckles and the sound rattles your bones. “In fact, I was thinking I’d cut down on the number of servants we have entirely…” 
You mind races with the memory of knowledge you wish you didn’t have. “Vampires are fiercely protective of their mates, bordering on obsession. Any person deemed a threat to their bond or their mate’s safety is usually disposed of quickly.”
You nearly stumble, but lean against the doorframe just in time. Your husband had disposed of a man, all because he brought you meals and books?
“What have you been up to today, princess?” The question breaks your trance just in time for you to see your husband’s eyes flicker behind you. 
You wet your lips. “Just some reading.” You plead that he doesn’t ask anything further. He does. 
“About the estate?” he asks. 
You nod and try to swallow the lump in your throat. “Yes.”
His smile returns and this time it’s not forced. “You got my books, then?” 
You try smiling back, but you’re fairly sure it looks more like a grimace. “Yes.”
“Anything interesting?” he presses.
This isn’t happening. This can’t be happening. Does he know? Does he know that you know? “Yes, of course. Lots.” 
He pauses and you see the debate and then the decision in his eyes. You think it’s the first time you’ve felt true terror when he meets your gaze again. “I think we should skip dinner tonight. It seems we have so much to discuss.”
You don’t even have the wherewithal to scream when he steps into you, forcing you back until he’s shutting your door behind him. He doesn’t stop there, though. He keeps pressing, keeps pushing until your knees hit the bed and you’re falling to the mattress. He crawls right after you.
“Who knew my little wife was such a reader? All those books in such a short time… You must be simply spilling with information.” 
You retreat across the mattress, squeaking when your back hits the headboard and his arms cage your waist. You’re trapped.
His hands find your hips and you’re all too aware of how cool his touch is. Even more so when he pulls you right into his lap.
“Satoru-” your voice is pitiful, breathless, and you’re ashamed to say it’s not just from the fear in your gut. He’s never been this close before, never touched you, held you like this. “Thomas-” 
“Don’t speak his name.” His face pulls into the first scowl you’ve ever seen and the sight is enough to root you to the spot. Never have you seen anything more frightening. A creature so beautiful, so perfectly angelic, filled with an insurmountable rage. It’s wrong. “He’s gone. He’ll never bother you again.” He’s closer now, his breath skating over your skin. It’s cool and now you know the reason why. 
You shake and tremble and you know– Thomas is dead. Your husband killed him– killed him for getting too close when all he did was stay at a distance. Satoru killed him. Killed him. 
He buries himself in your neck, his voice a near whine. “Thought I could put up with it, just so you’d have someone to take care of you…” He groans. “I was so wrong, princess. Couldn’t stand it. Couldn’t stand the way you smelled more like him than me…” 
You feel him melt against you then, relief washing over his body in a wave. “But he’s gone. And now it’s just you and me, hm? Just you and me…” He hums, like remembering that fact is all he’s ever needed.
He’s kissing your pulse again, now, and your heart is racing faster than ever. Your fingers curl into his shoulders. You should push him away, away, away. He’s a killer, of thousands no doubt. You’ve never felt at home here, never felt like you belonged. This is why. You’re not even the same species. He’s something else, something your hands were never meant to touch. 
Your mind screams at you to do go, to shove and kick at him and leave this place behind. Go, go, go your gut says… but you don’t. You can’t. It’s too… good. The feeling of his cool lips against your skin, of what you’re sure is his tongue prodding at your pulse… it’s intoxicating. He is intoxicating. How could anyone blame you for wanting more of someone, something, so divine? 
“Have you figured it out yet, love?” Your breath hitches and he chuckles, licking a long stripe up your neck, before he settles back at your pulse. Always your pulse. “I can feel those little gears turning. Tell me, what have they discovered?” 
He knows you know. But he’s going to make you say it. You swallow and feel his grip on you tighten. “You’re…” Your breaths come faster. You can’t. Not aloud. Aloud makes it too… real. 
“Yessss?” he prods. He’s licking at you again, all the way across your throat to find your other pulse-point. 
“You’re not…” Something sharps nicks at your skin and you bite your lip to hold back a whimper. 
“Go on, princess.” You think he’s just smelling you now, just burying his face as close to you as possible and taking you in. 
You close your eyes tightly, holding back tears. “Not human,” you breathe. A piece of you breaks with the admission.
He huffs a little laugh against your skin and pulls back to look you in the eye. “That’s good,” he purrs. “But I think you can be a little more specific, no?” His lips press to your chin, then the corner of your mouth, then down to your jaw… “Tell me.” 
Your lips wobble, muscles clenching tighter with each passing moment. You don’t want to say it, don’t want to speak it into existence, but you also don’t dare to disobey him. 
“You’re a…” You shake and tremble. He draws a line up your neck with the tip of his nose.
“Mhm?” 
You open your eyes, thinking this might be the last time you see. “Vampire.” 
He chuckles and you feel his teeth press to the skin of your neck. “That’s right, princess. So smart.” 
He smiles and you suddenly realize you’ve never seen his teeth before. Everytime he smiles at you it’s close-lipped and dimpled. But this… this is the smile of a predator– all white and pointy and fitted with a set of menacingly long fangs. You sob at the sight. 
“Shhhhh,” he coos. He has your chin in his hand, forcing you to truly look at him, to see him for what he is. “I won’t hurt you, love.” You want to believe him so badly it burns, but his laugh washes away any fire and turns it to ice. “Not unless you want me to.” He wiggles a brow like it’s just a little joke, like he’s not an actual fucking vampire that had his fangs over your neck just moments ago. 
“Satoru,” you beg. You’re not sure what you’re begging for. Release maybe? But, no, that’s not right. You don’t want him to let you go, not when you finally have him close after all this time. “Why did you pick me?” 
The question slips out. You hadn’t even been thinking about it, hadn’t even noticed it scratching at the walls of your mind, but it made its way out nonetheless.
His brow creases, but not in confusion. Moreso in… thoughtfulness. “Do you think about that a lot, princess?” 
You nod and you suddenly want him closer, want him to touch you everywhere, hold you like his life depends on it. You want him, no matter how horrible it might be. 
He nods and hums, kissing the tip of your nose lightly. “Well…” he says. His thumb swipes over your lips when he leans in to whisper in your ear. “At first I wanted you for this.” His head dips to your neck again and you feel the familiar brush of his lips against your throat. “You smell…” he chuckles. “Like heaven. Which is a place I’ll never get to on my own, so I had to bring my own little slice home, no?” He laughs again, a little louder this time, genuinely amused. “Went into town one day and caught your scent on the street. At first I thought I must be walking past the bakery, but, lo and behold, there was no baker in sight.” He’s still kissing at your pulse, worshiping it. “Went crazy, princess. Didn’t think I was going to be able to contain myself when I found you. Thought it might be quite the scene.” He huffs a laugh and you shiver, somehow both terrified and intoxicated. “But then I saw you–” he groans and something clenches deep at your center. “And I knew I needed more than just your blood. Needed you.” He’s rocking into you now, and your breath catches when you feel something firm against your backside. “Went to you in that little room you slept in every night. Watched you. Couldn’t stay away. Knew I had to have you.” You feel him smile against your skin. “After a week I couldn’t take it anymore. Sent you that letter, married you. Made you mine.” He groans again. “Then I met you and you were so pretty, princess. Already knew it, but hearin’ you talk to me, look at me.” Teeth graze your pulse. “Needed you more than ever. Almost took you right on the fucking floor in here while you were lookin’ at those dresses.” You whine when his hips roll into you again. “Oh, but I knew I couldn’t. You’re so fragile, love. Had to wait, had to make you feel safe, yeah? Spent all this time forcing myself to stay away, ‘fraid of what I might too if I was in your presence too long. Had to control myself. Had to make you realize you could trust me.” He panting, like he’s so pent up he can hardly sit still. “Do you trust me, princess?” 
Your brows scrunch. Say no, say no, say no a part of you screams. Run, run, run. You can’t. “Yes,” you breathe. 
You feel him smile again, feel the pleasure of submission. “Good girl.” 
You’re on your back. It happens so fast your eyes don’t even have time to gasp. You don’t see Satoru, but you feel him. Everywhere. His hands are roaming your body softly, sliding under buttons and laces and popping them off. Your dress loosens with every passing moment until Satoru reappears above you, diving straight for your neck again. “So good, princess. Let’s get you out of this dress, yeah?” 
You nod wordlessly, entranced. He finds your mouth as he rids you of your clothes. His tongue presses in and you flail against him, unsure of what to do, of how to handle the intrusion. The kiss is heavy, too heavy, but Satoru can’t seem to stop. He devours you as he gives up on laces and buttons and simply shreds your dress down the back. You tremble when the cold air hits your skin, when his cool fingers dust your collarbone. 
“I always forget how many damn layers they make you ladies wear,” he chuckles. His hands run beneath your shift, up across your bare thigh. You gasp at the touch. No one has even been so close to you before. You feel the threads of your corset snapping away, feel your breaths growing deeper. You tremble when he pulls your sleeve down past your shoulder and runs his mouth along the newly exposed skin. 
“Satoru,” you gasp, and your hand pulls at his flowing white shirt. 
He chuckles, pulling back just enough to see your face. “You wanna see me too?” You nod, lips parted and eyes glassy, and he laughs again. He lips dust over the corner of your mouth. “Alright.” 
His hands shift from you to himself, working at the laces on his chest. His movements are speedy, practiced, like he’s been lacing and unlacing shirts for hundreds of years. Your throat tightens when you realize that he has. 
You gasp when he reveals himself, when his shirt slides away to reveal an expanse of pale skin and carved muscle. You’ve never seen a man like this and seeing one this close up for the first time is nearly blinding. He’s art, you think- nothing less. 
“Touch me, princess,” he says. You can’t. You shouldn’t. He’s too beautiful, too perfect to be beneath your insignificant hands. “Need a little help?” he asks, and there’s a lilt in his voice that makes you sure he’s grinning. 
His hands find yours and bring them to his chest, running your palms over his collarbones, his pecs, down, down, down across his abs that you can feel each and every one… You whimper, watching your own fingers grope his skin. He pulls you lower, lower, lower, and you gasp when your fingertips brush the waistband of his pants. But then he’s laughing again and he’s throwing your arms over his shoulders and pulling you closer, kissing your neck like it pained him to be parted from your pulse for so long. 
“Not so fast,” he says, like he wasn’t the one nearly stuffing your hands down his pants. His hands are on your corset again. You can feel it dangling onto you by a thread, literally. All he needs is a couple more pulls and you’ll be bare. By the look he gives you, you can tell he’s 
thinking the same thing. “You touch me, now I touch you, yeah?” There’s a tug and a tear and then so much… cold. You’ve never realized how cold this castle is, not until you’re exposed to its elements fully. You’re naked. 
Satoru sits back on his knees and just watches. His gaze is searing, burning, despite the iciness of his being. It’s too much. Your hands move to cover yourself, to maintain some modicum of your dignity- 
“No.” Strong hands find your wrists and pry them apart. “Let me see you,” he says. His tongue darts out to lick his lips. 
Your jaw clenches and your frame shakes, but you do as he asks, letting your hands fall limply at your sides. There’s silence for many more moments and it seems to go on so long that you can only squeeze your eyes shut under his gaze. Surely he will turn you away now, get up and leave, tell you this was a mistake, tell you that you’re– 
“Beautiful,” he breathes. Your eyes snap open to find him already staring at you. “Beautiful,” he says again, and then he’s on you, lips at your pulse, hands on your skin. His touch is cool and you squeak at the chill that runs up your spine. You’re not sure it’s entirely from his temperature. 
His mouth seeks yours and he devours you. You feel as if he’s sucking your soul out through your lips. “Tell me you’ve never done this before,” he begs. “Tell me I’m the first to touch you.” 
You whine against his mouth, both aching for more and overwhelmed by what he’s already giving you. “Y-You’re the first,” you whisper. 
His groan is deep, primal. It rattles through your chest and you whimper when his hands dig into your waist hard enough to bruise. “Yes,” he breathes, and you shiver again. “Lie back, princess.” Your eyes widen, with anticipation or fear you’re not sure. Probably both. He chuckles. “Don’t worry. I’ll be gentle.” 
You pray he means that. “Just relax, love. Here, hold my hand.” His fingers find yours, twining them together. When you swallow, his eyes follow the bob of your throat. He leans back again and your body twitches when his free hand skims the skin of your thighs. His tongue darts out to wet his lips as he finds your knees and you gasp when he parts your legs, revealing you so completely to his gaze. The way he stares, like he’s committing you to memory, it’s nearly enough to make you snap your thighs shut, but a squeeze from his hand reminds you to relax, to trust. 
His palm skates up your thigh and settles near your hip, his fingertips inching closer to where you can feel an embarrassing throb. 
“Tell me, love. Have you ever touched yourself here?” His fingers dust low on your tummy- just low enough for you to catch his meaning, but not low enough to give you any relief. Your face heats and your teeth dig into the flesh of your cheek. You have, you have touched yourself there, but it’s the last thing you want to admit to your new husband. It’s shameful, it’s dirty, it’s- “Don’t think I’ll judge you, princess. Just wanna know.” 
You gulp down a breath. You should come clean. “Y-yes,” you stutter, and the sound of your voice so weak and helpless only makes you flush further. 
He chuckles and squeezes your hand again. “On the outside or the inside?” 
Your eyes widen. I-inside? You’d never considered that… “J-just the outside,” you answer. 
Your eyes grow even wider when his head rolls back and he moans straight up to the ceiling like your answer is heaven-sent. When he looks back to you his fangs are on full display. “Well, I think you and I are in for a little treat today, hm?” 
Your brow furrows and your lips part to ask him what he means– his fingers travel those last few inches down your tummy and find your clit. You squeak and jolt so violently that he presses a hand to your hip, holding you to the mattress. “Somebody’s sensitive,” he chuckles. He holds you still for a moment and then lets your hips go free. “Try to stay still. I promise it’ll feel good.”
You nod hopelessly, but this time you’re prepared for when he touches you again. Your muscles clench at the first touch, at the foreign sensation of a touch down there that wasn’t your own. But then it’s more. It’s languid, slow circles around a spot that you’ve never been able to pinpoint so well on your own. It’s heat building in your tummy that seeps through every vein and into every pore. It’s relaxation that you’ve never known, that has you melting into the mattress despite the chill of the touch. 
There’s a little huff of a laugh and then his voice. “Good girl. Feels nice, yeah?” You nod hesitantly and squeeze desperately at his hand, searching for an anchor. His head cocks to the side and you watch the smile slide across his lips. “It’s about to feel even nicer.” 
By the time you realize what he’s doing it’s far too late to stop him. His mouth closes around your cunt and you yelp, trying to wiggle away from the overwhelming sensation- but he’s got his freehand on your hip again and his grip is bruising, punishing, as he holds you in place. He licks a stripe through your folds and you find yourself jolting again, uselessly so against the pressure of his palm on your hip. “Stop that, princess.” Your heart drops at the admonishment until you feel his guiding touch. “Rock into me like this.” His hand rocks your hips into his mouth and the pressure of his tongue against your clit is so delicious that you whimper. “Good girl,” he says and your heart rises right back up. “Keep doing that, now.” You don’t dare defy him. You rock like he showed you, a little jerkily at first, and then you find a rhythm that has you seeing stars. “That’s it, love,” he says, and the sound is muffled against your cunt. “Here, put your hand in my hair.” He finds your wrist and guides you forward until your fingers are tangling in those snowy locks. They’re even softer than you’d imagined. “Good girl,” he whispers and suddenly he’s taking one last long lick and lifting his head to meet your eyes. “‘M gonna put my fingers in you now, princess.” Your chin wobbles. “It might hurt a little bit, but stay still, okay?” You can’t do anything but nod. 
His eyes return to your cunt and you can feel him prodding at your entrance, circling the hole as you clench in anticipation. “Relaaaaaax, love,” he says and you nod. A deep breath in through your nose and out through your mouth– 
You feel the exact moment he pushes into you and a whine of pain rips from your throat. Your walls clamp down like a vice, angry at the intrusion– but it’s already too late. There’s a beat of silence, of anticipation, and then he’s– laughing? 
Your brows furrow when you hear it, your head lifting to a sight that locks your limbs in shock. Satoru’s hand is lifted in front of his face, his pointer finger coated in– blood, you realize. Your blood. And he’s a fucking vampire. 
“Oh princess,” he coos, and the manic look in his eyes makes you tremble. “You really are perfect.” 
Things seem to slow as you watch him take his blood covered finger into his mouth. You’re sure you’ve never seen an expression more blissful, more lost to sensation. His eyes roll back and his body shivers, like he’s ascending to some higher plane. Maybe he is. 
When he pulls his finger from his mouth it’s completely licked clean. You hold your breath. He’s going to go for your neck now, right? He’s had a taste and now he’ll want more of it, all of it?
“Fuck,” is all he says. His mouth is back on your cunt so fast you don’t even see him move. 
Your mouth falls wide. It hurts, the way he is so desperately licking at you. You feel his finger again, pressing in, in, in, only to pull back and suddenly be joined by another. The stretch tears at you. You thrash and jolt, but Satoru doesn’t bother telling you to stop this time. His arm wraps over your hips, holding you in place. He seems immune to how hard your legs squeeze at his head or your hands pull at his hair. He’s lost. You can feel him licking, lapping, and prodding at you like you’re a fucking gold mine. He’s lost to desperation, to the need for more, more, more. Every so often he lifts his chin and you see his mouth smudged with a mixture of your wetness and your blood. He laps at his lips like an animal, dragging his thumb across his chin and sliding it into his mouth to make sure he gets every last drop. 
You’re not quite sure when the ravenous pain turns to a ravenous pleasure, when it turns from terrifying to downright delicious. You don’t notice your moans filling the air until Satoru joins you, groaning and whining into your cunt and telling you to keep going, to keep making those sounds. The hand you have buried in his hair doesn’t fight to push him away any longer, only to pull him into those now practiced rocks of your hips. His fingers thrust deep, curling into a spot that makes you feel so good and his mouth has found your clit again. He sucks your nerves lightly between his lips, tongue swirling in little circles. Your thighs start to shake. 
“Yes. Yes. Give it to me.” 
“S-Satoru–” you breathe. Warmth and tightness pool in your tummy, and you recognize it as your approaching orgasm, though you know this one will be far different than any you’ve ever managed to give yourself. Your body shakes and your breaths tremble and then– you fall over the edge, rocking your hips senselessly, losing all form of rhythm. Warmth tingles in your spine and seeps all the way down to your toes. You think you cry out, cry for your husband, cry for more, cry for less, but if you do you don’t hear it. All you hear is the pounding of your pulse, of pleasure throbbing in your veins until the world slowly seeps back in through the corners of your vision. 
Satoru is grinning. A speck of your blood clings to his chin and his fangs peek out from behind his lips. The sight makes your blood run a little colder. If any part of you doubted what he was before… well, there was no doubt any longer. 
There’s a shift between your legs, his hips slotting between them, and you’re suddenly snapped back to reality. From the look in his eyes, you’re not done. 
Frantic hands find his pants and he undoes each button with a quickness that is almost inhuman. You wonder if he could go even faster, if he’s holding back so as not to scare you. If he is, it isn’t working very well. Fear surges in your veins right alongside anticipation. 
“S-Satoru–”
“It’s alright, love.” His hand finds yours without his eyes ever looking up. His grip is just a little too firm, a little too cold. “Just stay still.” 
You whimper, but you don’t think he’s paying attention to that, and soon enough, neither are you. His pants slide down just past his hips, just enough. You gasp. 
You’ve never seen a man in the nude, never even dared to think about what it might look like, though it seemed you no longer had to guess. His hand wrapped around his shaft, giving one long and slow stroke that made his breath hiss through his fangs. The tip was flushed, angry, and leaking something that looked clear and sticky. You couldn’t help but notice it was a lot thicker than a finger, or even two. If his fingers had hurt…
He moves with that alarming quickness again, leaning down to hover over you, chests nearly pressed together. “Gonna take you now, princess. Gonna make you mine.” His eyes bore into yours, blue and shimmering with something wild. His hand presses into the mattress beside your head. “Stay still, now.”
It’s all the warning he gives you. You feel like you’re splitting– straight up the middle. You wail, hands flying out to claw at his back. It hurts. It hurts. 
“Satoru, p-please! It’s–” 
Lips catch yours– hungry, feral. The kiss is not gentle, not soothing. It shuts you up, it keeps you quiet, it keeps you still as you feel him sinking further, deeper into you. It’s too much, you try to say, but the poke of sharp teeth against your lips keeps you silent. Your hips jolt and wiggle trying desperately to escape the stretch but it’s no use. By the time he’s fully inside you, tears are streaking down your cheeks, fat and heavy. His lips break away and his eyes reappear. You shake when you see that none of the wildness has been tamed, that you’ve only just begun.
“Good girl,” he coos, and a cool finger traces a line across your jaw. “Took me so well.” You hold back a sob when his hips shift a little, testing, prodding. He must see the pinch of your eyes, the twist of your mouth, because he’s quick to comfort. “Just hold my hand, princess.” His hips rock in earnest this time and you whimper, squeezing down on his hand with all your might. You’re panting as he chuckles. “Breathe, love. Breathe. Soon you’ll be begging for more,” he laughs. It’s not long before he’s rocking into you sincerely, setting a pace that stretches you to the brink of breaking. At first it’s all you can do to grasp onto him, to bite your lips through the whimpers and hold his hand. And then it’s… more. It’s heat and warmth despite the coolness of his body on yours. It’s sensation and… pleasure. He laughs when the first moan slides past your lips, burying his face in your neck once again. You hear him at your ear, panting his hot breath across your skin. 
“Feel good, princess?” You nod, letting your hips rock against his as he showed you before. It feels good– it feels right. He chuckles, but there’s nothing light about the sound. “Wanna feel even better?” Something sharp pokes at the skin of your neck, hard enough to make you squeak, to make you freeze at what you know he wants. 
He pulls himself back, pressing his forehead to yours, searching your eyes with his. Something like a cruel smile dances on his mouth. “Just a taste, love. I promise it won’ hurt.” His tongue darts out and licks across your lips, his thrusts rocking just a bit faster. “You’ll feel s’ good an’ I’ll only take a little.” He laughs again and it sends a chill through your bones. “Promise.” He sounds breathless, like he’s struggling to restrain himself. The increase of his pace makes you whine and you squeeze his hand again. He buries himself back in your neck, panting. “Come on, love. Say yes. Say yes f’ me.” Your eyes glaze over. Your body justles with each new thrust. He’s desperate now, seeking a release that you don’t think is any kind you’re familiar with. “Yes, yes, yes,” he chants in your ear. You’re not sure when his words twist in your mind, when they settle on your tongue and push past your lips, but you know it feels so right when they do. 
“Yes,” you whisper. 
His fangs clamp around your pulse. You scream when the sting rips through you, violent and savage– but it only lasts a moment. Pain fades to… ecstasy. You feel his throat bobbing with each swallow, feel your blood seeping from your skin and onto his tongue. You’d thought it would feel slicing, draining, like the life was being sucked from you. It doesn’t. It feels wonderful. Heat spreads under your skin, emanating from your neck and down to your toes. It feels like breathing for the first time, like sugar being pumped into your veins. It feels like heaven. Your hand tangles in his hair, holding him close. You don’t want it to stop, not ever. You could die like this, have him suck every last drop of blood from your veins and thank him for it with your dying breath. 
He’s moaning now, hands curling into your hips while he fucks into you relentlessly. The pace is grueling and brutal. You know it should hurt but only feels perfect. Anything less would not be enough. Anything else would leave you wanting. You feel it building, feel that familiar twinge at your core. The ecstasy flooding through your veins has it coming faster, has you teetering on the edge in moments. 
“Satoru…” You hadn’t noticed how dizzy you felt until you tried to speak. You wonder why… “‘M gonna…” 
He fucks you harder, something menacing and deep rumbling in his chest. The sound makes you shiver, makes you whine, makes you come. 
Your body shakes and a cry rips from your throat, cunt clenching like a vice around him. Your eyes roll back, hands scraping trails down his back. Your thighs quake with the intensity, with the overwhelming senses of pleasure that erupt throughout your body. Every nerve is firing, every hair rising. It’s an unstoppable current, one that sweeps you away, helpless to its pull. 
His thrusts grow sloppy and untimed. His grip on your hips tightens, holding you in place while he makes you his. His teeth break from your neck and when you look up through blurry eyes you see his head thrown back, your blood streaming down his chin in thick little globs. You feel it when he cums, feel the thick ropes of it seeping into your womb, feel the way he keeps fucking you, pushing it deeper and deeper inside. He’s moaning, chanting your name like a prayer at the heavens. 
When the moment ends he slumps over you, eyes half lidded and tired. There’s a familiar grin on his lips, one that inspires both comfort and uneasiness in your gut. You can’t help but stare at him, at the blood that stains his chin and cheeks, that reddens his lips so beautifully. You want to reach out and touch him, touch his blood-soaked skin and see what it feels like, what it tastes like. What you taste like. 
His eyes slide to the side, finding your pulse again. You groan. Yes, you think. Please, yes. More. You don’t think you’ll ever get enough of that. Of his teeth in your flesh, of the euphoria flooding your veins. More, more, more, your mind chants. 
He chuckles lightly and shakes his head. “No, princess.” He raises a finger to trace the curve of your neck. “I took more than I should have…” His expression doesn’t tense with worry. His cheeks pull into a smile, those little dimples shining through. “But what can I say? You just taste so good.” Like he needs to emphasize his point, his tongue darts out to trace his lips, lapping up some of the remaining blood on his chin. “You taste like mine.”
You whine. More, more, more. It’s all you can think about. You lift an arm weakly. You want to pull him to your neck, to make him drink, to make him fill you with the heaven you had just moments ago. 
He catches your wrist and brings it to his lips, inhaling deeply. His lips split into another grin and you see his eyes spark again with the wildness you crave. 
“Not yet, princess.” he coos. “But soon.” His smile grows even wider, until those fangs are on full display, until you’re trembling again. “Forever,” he whispers.
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yandere-writer-momo · 11 days
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Yandere Short Stories:
Knight in Shining Armor
Yandere Monster Knight x Princess Reader
TW: delusional Yandere, Yandere behavior, kidnapping (mentioned), etc.
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Ajax had always been princess (your name)’s confidant and source of solace… so why did he have her cornered on the bed of the inn? His large, muscular frame towered over her as his body trembled.
“I can’t do it… I can’t let you marry some other man.” Ajax whispered, his metal mask hiding his expression. There was no doubt in (your name)’s mind that he was shaken up about something. She had no clue why he’d be so upset about her getting married…
“Ajax, it was bound to happen eventually. It’s my duty as the kingdom’s princess-“ (your name) gasped when he closed the distance between them. Ajax’s large palms pulled her into a tight hug. The force of the hug caused them both to land on the small bed with a soft plop.
“Ajax-“ Ajax placed a finger on (your name)’s lips to pause her words.
“I won’t allow it… I won’t allow some other man to sully you.” Ajax’s deep voice made her body anxiously shake. “Not when I’ve wanted you for so many years…”
“Ajax-“ (your name)’s eyes widened when he finally removed the mask that’s concealed his face for over a decade. Ajax was half orc? (Your name) hadn’t a clue and she had been with him for so many years…
“I’m half monster, I thought you knew.” Ajax chuckled as his crimson eyes flitted over (Your name)’s frozen form. She was now a helpless lamb trapped in the maw of the wolf. “It’s why the other knights have been so cruel to me… why the maids avoid me like the plague and your father wanted to send me to war.”
(Your name)’s eyes can only take on his scarred and burned face in shock. Why was half the skin on his mouth missing and his tusks filed down? Who had hurt him so much that he didn’t confide in her, his best friend? What atrocities had he faced while she remained none the wiser?
(Your name) were shocked when he bent down to show you his teeth. His tusks were clumsily filed down to almost look like teeth but they were still rather sharp. “I did the tusk work, but they grow back rather quickly. The skin on my face is still healing from when there was an assassination attempt on you from your future husband’s concubines. Bastard was going to pour acid on your face.”
(Your name) reached up to trace the scars on his face while Ajax gave her a soft smile. “Ajax…”
“You’re the only one who’s never treated me like a monster… you’re so wonderful and kind.” Ajax moved his large, gloved hands to hold her hands. “That old king doesn’t deserve you. No one does!”
(Your name) blushed when Ajax brought her hands up to his lips to press tender kisses over each of her knuckles. Despite how badly Ajax wished to ravish her, he must keep his composure.
“You took this amount of damage for me?” (Your name)’s voice was barely above a whisper, yet it made Ajax melt into a puddle.
“Of course I did. I will do anything for you.” Ajax moved himself to crouch on the corner of the bed, his head in a slight bow. Yet (your name) could feel the burning obsessed behind his crimson gaze. “I am in love with you. Madly, deeply, entirely devoted to you and only you.”
Ajax grasped (your name)’s bare foot and brought it up to his mouth to press tender kisses across the top of it. “I will love you until my skin rots off my body and I am nothing but bones. Yet even death could not separate me from you for I will be in every corner of your life like a permanent shadow of protection. I will protect you with my entire being and soul. I will haunt and dismember your enemies if you so much as give them a glance of distaste.”
(Your name) felt her blood run cold when Jax gave her a bright grin that reopened a few of the stitches across his cheeks. The blood dripped down his face and onto her foot, but he merely lapped it up with his longer tongue. “Now tell me… is what I feel not love? I may not be a handsome prince but I swear I’m your knight in shining armor.”
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urlocalfeiner · 1 year
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is it selfish to want you? | neteyam sully
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gif by me!
pairing: neteyam sully x omaticiya!fem! reader
warnings: so much fluff, swearing, heated kissing, bonding, mating, intimate
a/n: both neteyam and you are about 17 in this, as to my knowledge that is when na'vi are declared as adults and are allowed to find a mate. please correct me if i am wrong!
masterlist!
neteyam sully was a boy of many things, he was a mighty warrior, loved by most- desired by more. he was easily one of the most sought out na'vi in the clan, many women in the clan had their eyes on him. they would do anything neteyam asked of them in a heartbeat- all waiting in anticipation for the day he would pick a mate to help him lead the clan.
but neteyam paid no attention to any of them, he had interest in not one other woman in the clan, except for you. his heart belonged to you and you didn't even know it. to him no na'vi even held so much as a finger to you and your beauty, your strong heart and mind- he honestly couldn't pinpoint any flaw you had even if he was held at gunpoint because in his eyes you truly had none. you were completely and utterly perfect.
but the one woman he wanted was the one that wasn't chasing after him- what he didn't know if that you had been pinning after him just as he did for you, but you were sure he did not return the feelings you had for him. he had all these women wanting him, why would he want you?
"neteyam!" he snapped his head at the sound of your voice calling his name, watching as you approached him with a small smile on your face. he was sitting on the forest floor carving a piece of wood. "do you know where kiri is?"
neteyam would be lying if he said he wasn't disappointed when you asked him where his sister was, "sorry, i do not know." you sighed, plopping yourself down on the ground next to him- only now taking notice of what he was doing, carving something.
neteyam saw you were staring at what he was making out of wood with curiosity. "this is for tuk, lo'ak broke her other ikran toy." he tried to show you a bit better, removing his thumb a bit to make it more visible.
you chuckled- which brought butterflies to neteyam's chest. "poor tuk."
"i would say poor ikran, it got his neck snapped off." he joked, recalling how lo'ak accidently stepped on the wooden toy and tuk crying over the decapitated toy.
you laughed at his joke, "ah yes, poor ikran." he was not nearly done with carving the wooden toy, "do you mind if i stay?"
does neteyam mind if you stay? what kind of question was that? he did not mind, not one bit. with every fiber of his body he wanted you to stay- he wanted you to always be with him. "not one bit." he was excited that you wished to stay with him instead of finding the others which were probably doing something more fun than what he was.
you watched as his hands worked delicately, sure of every little move he made with his small knife when it met with the deep oak wood- your eyes slowly traveled up to his arms which were filled with muscle. it was no surprise, he was incredibly strong- his muscles just proved the point of it.
you admired his arms- as weird as it sounded, watching how the muscles tensed as he carved.
neteyam noticed how quiet you were being, turning to look at you slowly. realising you had your eyes trained on his toned arms, he felt a smirk coming to his lips- suddenly feeling confident. "my arm must be nice to look at, hm?"
you snapped your eyes away from his arm, heat spreading to your face- embarrassed you had just been caught staring at his arms. oh eywa, you have never wished to disappear more than you wanted to now. "uh, no?" it came out as more of a question than anything- you were a flustered mess.
he chuckled, shaking his head as he continued to work on carving tuk's toy. he felt proud that he could make you flustered- and was never more grateful for his toned arms. "right, that is why you were staring at them for so long." he teased you more.
"i was staring at them because of how dirty they are," you tried to regain yourself, rolling your eyes playfully- his arms did in fact have dirt on them from when he was out hunting that morning. "you need to go for a wash."
neteyam glared at you playfully, swiping his finger on his arm collecting some dirt and smeared it on your cheek. you slapped his finger away, groaning. "neteyam!- you skxqwng!" you rubbed your cheek in attempt to get the dirt that he had put on your face off. "i just cleaned myself!"
he grinned as he looked at your cheek- which was smeared with dirt, in your attempt to clean it you had made it worse- spreading it. "my finger slipped, sorry." he innocently said.
you raised your hand, slapping the side of his head harshly- making him shoot his hand up to his head that stung from your hit. "sorry, my hand slipped." you repeated his words, smirking.
but your smirk soon vanished as a smug look came to his face- you knew he was about to do something. and you were proved right as he stood up quickly, urapiductly picking you up, flinging your body over his shoulders with ease. you had not time to react with how fast he was at doing so and before you knew it he began to walk- your face being smushed into his back as one of his hands was holding you in place, the other holding your legs so you don't kick him.
"neteyam!-" you hit his back with your fist, trying to make him let go of you. "let go of me!- ugh, bitch!" he chuckled at the name you had decided to call him.
you continued to hit his back- your punches had no effect on him, his hold becoming tighter on you as you tried to squirm off his shoulders- having no success. you stopped fighting him as he suddenly came to a stop, hoping he was about to let you down. he let you down, just not in the way you had planned for.
he moved you from his shoulders, now holding you bridal style- he held a smirk on his face as he looked down at you. you were confused, looking around you. your eyes widened as you saw a large pond in front of you- knowing what he was about to do. you looked back to him, narrowing your eyes dangerously at him. telling him not to do it. "neteyam, let go of m-!" before you could finish your sentence you felt yourself get flung from his arms.
the cold water hitting your body as you landed in the water, as you resurfaced breathing heavily from not preparing yourself you looked up to neteyam who was standing on the dry grass in front of the pond, watching you in amusement.
before you could open your mouth to speak, neteyam once again interrupted you this time by jumping into the water right next to you- causing a large splash, the water getting in your mouth. you were truly done with this boy.
neteyam pulled his head out of the water, flinging his now wet braids away from his face so he could see you clearly- you had a sour look on your face as you glared at him. he was grinning widely, showing off his fangs. "what? you said to let you go."
"not like that!" you yelled at him, keeping yourself afloat. "i am going to kill you."
he raised one eyebrow teasingly, amused. "oh yeah?"
without a reply you swam forward at him, hitting him repeatedly as he laughed trying to swat your hands away- he quickly pulled himself underwater and before you could react you felt yourself being pulled under as well.
you opened your eyes under the water that you had just been dragged under, seeing neteyam in front of you grinning. you lunged forward at him in the water as he quickly dodged you- not fast enough though as you got a hold of his tail, pulling him back. you felt a smile make its way to your face as you saw neteyam's angry expression under the vision of the slightly murky water.
he swam forward to you, wrapping both his arms around your body, trapping you- pushing you both deeper under the water- as the two of you stopped fighting one another he admired how you looked. your hair floating above you, which looked almost magical- your white spots that couted your face glowing in the darkness of the water. ewya, if neteyam didn't run out of breath from being in water for too long, he was sure you would. your blushed as the two of you held eye contact- it felt so intimate, his hands wrapped around you gently as he floated just aboved you looking down at your face.
you seemed to have forgotten you couldn't breath underwater for a second, it finally registered to you that you were out of breath as neteyam pulled you and him back to the surface to breathe.
as you reached it the two of you gasped for air, regaining your breath. when you did the two of you bursted out laughing- you were suddenly glad he had thrown you in the water. oh how much fun you had with him, he never failed to put a smile on your face no matter what circumstances it was under.
as your laughter died down, you realised how cold you were- shivering slightly from the water. neteyam too realising the coldness, looking at you, “come on.” he softly said, pulling you to the edge were the dry grass was.
neteyam reached his hand out to help you up, you took it gratefully- you too now on the dry land. as you emerged small droplets from the water coated your body, dripping slowly into the soul beneath you. neteyam felt his heart pick up its rhythm, you looked like a goddess, you always did.
“i can’t believe you chucked us both in the water with nothing to dry ourselves off with.” you groaned, glaring at neteyam playfully who shrugged innocently- more time with you that meant.
you sat down on a nearby rock that was by the large pond, neteyam following sitting right in front of you. waiting for yourselves to dry off. neteyam looked at you, you were still shivering- hugging your legs for warmth. he slid forward on the rock a bit, sliding an arm around your should bringing you closer to him- he rubbed your arm in comfort.
you melted into his touch, how was he so warm after getting out of the cold pond?- whilst you were still freezing. “you’re warm.”
he chuckled looking down at you, “you’re cold.”
you glared up at him, rolling your eyes. “maybe because you threw me into a cold pond?” he sighed, playfully pulling away from you- you missed the warmth of his body as soon as he did so, “okay, okay i’m sorry- please come back.” he laughed sliding back over, engulfing you in his arms once more.
it all felt so right, you in his arms. you silently wished to stay like this for the rest of your life, in his arms. neteyam too wished the same thing.
he stroked your hair gently, running his fingers through its dampness- you closed your eyes slowly, enjoying the head massage. neteyam smiled as he saw your peaceful expression, all he ever wanted to do was make you happy- and he wanted to do that for the rest of his life.
he continued to run his fingers through your hair, a comforting silence falling over the two of you. the only noise coming from the flowing water from the small waterfall that lead into the pond.
“thank you.” neteyam suddenly said, breaking the silence- which you were quite confused at what he was thanking you about.
opening your eyes, looking at neteyam with a confused expression. “for what?”
for what? for everything you did, for being alive, for being you- there were so many things he could thank you about. “for being there for me like today. it’s good to have some fun, training has made me have less free time lately- it may be selfish but, i miss it.”
your face softened as you sat up, removing your head from his shoulder. you knew he his father had been going harder on him than usual as he was coming quicker to the age of where he would become olo'eyktan- you suddenly felt like he needed a hug, or maybe you just wanted to be close to him. you didn’t really know. you leaned forward and wrapped your arms around him, holding his head with one hand the other around his neck.
neteyam hadn't realised how much he needed a hug until now, breathing in your scent that he knows by heart now. wrapping his own arms around your waist, pulling you closer to him.
"i miss having you around too," you whispered into his neck, it sent shivers down his spine. you pulled away slightly so you could see neteyam's face, you pushed away a loose braid that always fell in front of his face. "and it is not selfish to want something, nete."
neteyam stared into your eyes, he swore he could drown in them and he would be completely content with going down like that. your words echoed in his mind, it is not selfish to want something- he wanted you to be his and him to be yours until the end of time itself- he yearned for you so much it hurt whenever he saw you speak to another male in the clan, he knew it was selfish of him but he only wanted you to speak to him. he wanted to be the one to show you the wonders of the world, he wanted to be the one who got to kiss your lips at night, he wanted to be the one whose name you whispered in the dark. neteyam sully wanted you and only you.
"is it selfish of me to want you?" his voice was quiet, in a whisper as the two of you held each others eyes. your mouth parted slightly, not sure if you had heard him right. had neteyam sully, the boy you had been in love with since young just speak those words? "is it selfish to want to be the only one that can look at you?"
"no." your voice was in a whisper, matching his. his eyes trailed down to your lips then back to your eyes- you had not missed it.
he reached out his hand placing it on your chin, gently pulling your face closer to his. you didn't fight it at all, you leaned in closer. your lips grazing each others. "good." he whispered against your lips, breaking the small gap between the two of you.
as your lips met his a spark appeared within you, whispering that this was meant to be. the kiss was short but was passionate, the two of your first kisses. neteyam loved that he was the one to be your first kiss and yours his.
the two of you broke away slowly, staring into each others eyes which were filled with desire and love. "you're so beautiful." he said as he pressed his lips to yours once again- this kiss was not like the first one, it was more messy, your lips chasing one another. he continued to kiss you, deepening the kiss as his hand slipped around your waist, pulling you onto his lap- now straddling him with your legs. "is this okay?" he asked softly, searching your face for any slight bit of uncomfortableness- but there was none.
you smiled, cupping his jaw in your hand, leaning into him. "more than okay, nete." was this what heaven felt like?- that is what neteyam was asking himself, because this was heaven.
his name against your tongue as you kissed him- eywa, it was enough to make him fall limp. his hand was on your lower back, supporting you so you didn't fall as he slid his tongue into your mouth. the other hand on your jaw softly. your hands found it way to his braids, tanginling your fingers in them- trying to pull him closer to you.
his lips began to trail down your neck, earning slight whimpers from you. it was the most beautiful sound neteyam had ever heard in his life. "keep making those noises." it came out without thinking as he continued to suck on your neck- you were embarrassed by the whimpers that escaped your mouth, but when neteyam said that you felt all the embarrassment slip away.
he pulled away from your neck, smirking as he saw the marks he left scattered across it. "neteyam," you hissed, "people are going to see those, you skxqwng." though, you weren't sure if you actually cared.
he grinned at your annoyed expression, "then they will see you are mine." you couldn't help but smile at what he said.
that was when you decided to make it official, it was the biggest decision of your life- you had been told that it would be a hard one to make as you would be with the one you bonded with for life. but, this was the easiest decision you had made in your life.
you slowly grabbed your braid that fell behind your back, bringing it forward to neteyam. his mouth fell slightly agape, looking up to you. "are you sure?" he asked, worried you may regret it later- he knew he would in fact never regret it, he didn't want you to though.
"neteyam, i have never been so sure of anything before." you smiled softly at him, that was all neteyam needed- he grabbed his queue and brought it forward with his hand your queues mere inches away from one another.
the two of you looked at one other, as you brought your queues to the other. the tsaheylu was formed.
both you and neteyam's breath hitched and pupils dilated as you looked from the bond to one another- you had never felt anything like this before, you could feel him, everything. his breath, heart beat, his feelings to you.
"i see you, y/n." neteyam breathed out, you swore you had never been happier- and neteyam could feel how happy you were when he spoke the words through the bond which made him smile.
"i see you, neteyam."
eywa had heard the two of your wishes and answered them. you and neteyam sully were now one, mated for life.
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ghouljams · 3 months
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Courting (Letters from Lt. Riley)
tags: regency au, Ghost x f!reader/OC, courting, letters, Ghost flirting and also being so weird with it, courting gifts
summary: You told Ghost he could write you. He does.
The maids drop off the letter while you're in the study. The wax seal on the front is unbroken, which you find strange. Aren't parents normally supposed inspect courting letters? You suppose you should be thankful your mother isn't a noble by birth, she doesn't have the same care for propriety you know others do. She's always maintained that love is for the people involved and no one else. Though, love is a far stretch for your feelings as far as you're concerned.
Ghost seems to go out of his way to aggravate and annoy you. You will say... you've never enjoyed conversations quite so much as you enjoy them with him, and you've never had a man entertain your debating so well, and you suppose his eyes are rather warm and honeyed enough to catch attention. You like that you can see the curve of his lips under his mask when he smiles, and that the lines beside his eyes crease when he looks at you. And you like his hands, you suppose, if you had to pick something.
You break the seal of the letter and unfold the thick paper. There's a thin sheet of silver paper covering the actual writing and you scoff at the precaution. Surely the man isn't saying anything so scandalous as to need more protection from prying eyes. Still, you're careful removing the tissue-y layer.
Your breath catches in your throat, fingers hovering to trace carefully over the lines of charcoal covering the page. It dirties your glove and you're quick to avoid touching the paper directly, lest you sully the careful work of portraiture. It's you, your profile staring determined off into the distance, a slight frown on your lovingly shaped lips and a gentle crease to your brow. You wonder what your charcoal double must be thinking to have such an expression. You recognize the necklace he's haphazardly rendered, a gift from your mother you wore at the first party of the season.
How long has he been thinking of you?
There's tight cursive at the bottom of the page, "I have nothing to say, except that you're the most beautiful creature I've ever had the misfortune of knowing. -Lt. Riley"
Your heart flutters so hard, batters so aggressively against your rib cage, that you don't even notice the heat in your cheeks. You call rush to find pen and paper to write back.
-
You're having breakfast with your parents when the maid brings you a letter. You recognize the red wax seal immediately and slide your fingers under the paper's fold to break it quickly. The crack of wax fills the silent room, and you look up from your work to see your parents watching you. You father rests his chin on his laced fingers, and your mother quietly sips her tea. The letter is carefully placed to the side and your mother smiles, setting down her cup to draw one of your father's hands into her own grip.
"Don't let us keep you," You father rumbles, you can't tell if he's upset or pleased. His voice carefully neutral.
"It can wait until after breakfast," You tell him peaceably, picking up your fork again.
"Give it a read now dear, you'll upset your stomach rushing through meals." Your mother, ever the doctor, encourages. You tamp down your smile and unfold the letter, your fingers feeling for another sheet of silver paper. You're almost disappointed not to find one. You suppose you can't expect a gift of that quality every time. Once again the actual letter is short and neatly penned,
"Arguing with me won't make me march down there princess. Not that the idea hasn't crossed my mind, but I'd be gone as soon as I saw you, lost as soon as you opened your mouth. You make me lose all rational thought, and yet you consume my every waking moment. There is no distance I could travel that I would not still be haunted by the memory of you. If I'd never been assigned to your escort I would have been a saner man, miserable for never having known you. Argue with that.
Did you miss every one of your penmanship lessons?
Lt. Riley"
You smile to yourself, your thumb rubbing against the paper. He's pressed little flowers into the folds, their colors bleeding into the page and their petals falling into your lap. You pluck them carefully from your skirt, dutifully avoiding thoughts of your suitor, and place them back in the folds of Ghost's letter. You'll have to write him later, you know he's egging you on, but really he should know better than to criticize a lady's calligraphy.
You look up from your work and meet your parent's stares. Your mother's thumb rubs against the back of your father's hand, you've always hoped for a match like theirs.
"Something nice?" Your mother asks, and you smile at her.
"Never," You tell her, "Lieutenant Riley is as rude in his letters as he was as an escort."
Your father hums, but you think you see the edge of a smile under his beard.
-
There's very little awkwardness in the letters between you and Ghost. He writes better than he speaks, but the bluntness is still there, the charm that made you first agree to this courtship. He makes your stomach clench, makes your heart flutter. He's rude and argumentative, and you find yourself hoping for every letter he sends you.
He's sweet.
He's terrible.
You hide his letters under your pillows, the ones that talk about kissing you, "Everywhere but your mouth," he writes, "so that I can still hear you." You sit on the chaise and chew your thumb reading the letters that promise you devotion, "you'd never worry where I was, I never wish to stray from your side." You hear your friends discussing suitor gifts, the scandalous things that pass through their aunt's inspection first, that their fathers shake their head at.
You think of the modesty panel laced into your stays, the carefully inked words along the edge of the gift, "if my lips were here they'd never leave."
You pluck Ghost's letter from the tray before your maid can even offer it. Your fingers quick to break the wax seal before you even find a place to sit. He never writes as much as you do, but he's purposeful with his words in a way that makes your heart sing.
"If it's the Scot I think it is your friend is fine. We can discuss when I pick you up this afternoon. Wear walking shoes. Love, Lt. Riley"
You snort, quite a way with words your lover. You nearly trip on your way up the stairs staring at his signature. "Love" be still your heart.
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dantakeyoman · 1 year
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Neteyam Has Something Important To Tell You As You Patch Him Up (SFW)
Reader is Fem! Omaticaya
CW: fluff, Neteyam is smooth asf, little bit of blood, Neteyam is a simp, Mo’at is an awesome wing-woman, Utral Aymokriyä is where Jake and Neytiri mated
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“Be sure that mushroom is ground well, (y/n). We will need it when the hunting party return,” Mo’at instructed, implying the bioluminescent fungi that sat next to you.
You nodded firmly, placing the plant into something that was the earthly equivalent of a mortar and pestle, and promptly starting your work.
You loved your job as a healer, and took it very seriously. Even more so since, recently, Mo’at has been giving you lessons in perfecting your craft.
The right way to turn your wrist when grinding ingredients, how one’s blood can tell their origins, better methods to connect with Eywa.
Because of her, you have become 10x the better healer than you were before, and you were beyond thankful.
Throughout your childhood, you had dreamed of becoming a healer and helping your people. But once you met a certain Sully, who was next in line for Olo’eyktan, that dream slightly warped throughout the years.
Of course you still wanted to heal your people, there was no doubt about that. But instead of being a healer, you wanted to be the healer.
His healer.
“Not too much, (y/n). You don’t want the paste to be too thin,” Mo’at calmly reminded, keeping her eyes on her own grinding.
You snapped yourself out of it, slightly embarrassed that you let yourself become so lost in thought.
“Sorry,” you apologized, quickly putting the bowl down.
“Is there something on your mind, child?” she asked, a slight smirk on her face.
Just by your flustered face, she could tell what you were thinking about. 
Or rather, who.
She wasn’t blind to how you looked at Neteyam, or how Neteyam looked at you. She had known about your feelings for each other since you were children. 
And since her grandson was fast approaching the age where he would become Olo’eyktan, she figured refining your healing abilities would improve your candidacy for Tsahik.
Not like anyone else held a candle to you in Neteyam’s eyes anyway.
“Oh, it’s nothing. I am just-.” You suddenly remembered why you had busied yourself with medicine-making in the first place.
“Nervous for the hunting party,” you told a hafl-truth, sighing as you picked up the next mushroom, dropping it in the bowl.
Jake was letting Neteyam lead the hunting party for the first time.
And to say you were nervous was an understatement.
“He will be fine. His father taught him well. And he has a fine healer waiting for him at home,” she knowingly smiled, pouring this small satchel of powder into her bowl.
You blushed, focusing back to your bowl at the woman’s implications.
Surely you hadn’t made it that obvious.
And by the grace of Eywa, the familiar scent of the man you love ( he had completed Iknimaya a while ago ) filled the healing room.
“Grandmother! (y/n)! You must come and see what we have brought back. You will never believe it’s size!” Neteyam exclaimed as he quickly opened the tent flaps, his voice beaming with happiness
You quietly laughed to yourself at his excited manner, feeling foolish for ever being worried in the first place.
You giddily turned around, only to be met with his proud, bloody-faced smile.
“Neteyam!” you worriedly gasped, frantically getting up an rushing over to him.
He had large scratches on his cheek, and one big slash on his chest, all of which left large stains of blood on his skin.
You quickly, and carefully, held his face in your hands, ignoring his insisting that he was fine as you turned it to see if there was any more damage. 
“Are you alright? Does it hurt?”
Neteyam smiled to himself, stupidly, relishing in the feeling of your soft hands on his face.
He could feel himself heating up just by your closeness. And by this distance, he could see every beautiful feature on your face perfectly.
“Why are you smiling? This is serious! Please, sit down,” you ordered, taking your hands from his face and grabbing his forearm, walking him in the middle of the room and sitting him down.
Mo’at smiled, carefully placing her bowl on the floor and standing up. “I shall give you two a moment.”
And with that, she walked out the room, but not without shooting you a wink before closing the flaps.
You sighed, grabbing the bowl she put down and sitting in front of Neteyam.
“It does not hurt as bad as you think. Truly,” he smiled, your fussing over him making something stir inside his stomach.
“Well pain or not, I must put this on your wounds so they may heal properly,” you dismissed, scooping up a small glob of paste with your two fingers.
When you looked back up at him, you realized that you were too far away. In order for this medicine to work, it must be rubbed in well.
Neteyam looked at you, confused, as you took a deep breath, quickly sitting yourself in his lap, practically straddling him.
His breath hitched.
He had never had his crush sit on top of him before. Hell, you had never even been this close to him before.
Every part of him that was touching you was now heating up by the second, so much so that he’d thought he’d burn.
But looking at your face, it seemed like the most natural thing in the world, like you had done this a million times before.
“I’m sorry, but I have to rub this in correctly,” you apologized, beginning to massage the paste into the cuts on his face.
“I have no complaints,” he smiled, resting his hands on your waist so you wouldn’t fall off.
When you got to a particularly large cut, he winced, the paste making the wound sting.
You smirked, giving him a soft flick on the forehead. “I know the future Olo’eyktan is not taken down by a little medicine.”
He smirked off the pain, looking you right in the eyes. “Never.”
You chuckled, moving on to next cut, when the mention of the position reminded you of your thoughts earlier.
But your thoughts soon turned for the worse. 
“You are going to become Olo’eyktan soon. How do you feel?” you asked emptily, placing your two paste covered fingers on his chest.
He was concerned with your sudden mood change, but also loved the way your fingers felt on his skin, sending another stir to his stomach.
“It is exciting. And scary at the same time. I have so much to live up to,” he truthfully answered, looking down at himself.
You scooped some more paste on your fingers, giving him a quick glance.
“Well, you are not alone. You will have a Tsahik,” you sadly smiled, halting your massages on his wound.
You did not want to cry in front of him, but the tears were beginning to well.
“We have many that will surely be a good fit. Eyati is a strong hunter. And beautiful, too.”
It all clicked for Neteyam.
That was why you looked so sad. You believed he was going to chose someone else as his mate ( like he would ever ).
Amused, he laughed, slightly offended that you would ever think that anyone could take your place in his heart.
“What is so funny?” you asked softly, looking at him sad eyes, quite hurt that he was laughing.
He smiled, cupping your cheek in his hand. 
“You talk of me mating with another woman as you sit in my lap, massaging my chest. My love, that is funny.”
My love?
His thumb caressed your cheek as he pulled you in closer, resting his forehead on yours.
“(y/n), I see no one better fit than you to be my Tsahik. You may not be a strong hunter, but you are a strong healer. And more beautiful than any woman I have ever seen. Eyati may be a good fit, but you are the one I wish to mate with, not her,” Neteyam spoke sincerely, his eyes not leaving you for a moment.
You were flustered to say the least.
You’d never thought you’d hear those words coming out of his mouth. And boy, did it sound amazing when they did.
“(y/n)...I see you,” he finished, smiling as you cupped his cheek, placing his hand on top of yours.
“I see you, Neteyam,” you smiled back, a few happy tears managing to slide down your cheeks.
That was all he needed before he roughly kissed you, pulling you in by the nape of your neck.
You kissed just as roughly, moving your hands down to his chest as he tilted his head, getting better angle on you.
He wrapped his tail around your thigh, you doing same, trying to keep each other as close together as possible.
But sooner or later, you had to breath.
The both of you separated, panting with smiles on your face as you rested on each other’s forehead again.
“Forget dinner. I want to take you to Utral Aymokriyä right now,” Neteyam seductively growled, wrapping you in his arms and standing up, twirling you around the room.
“Neteyam! You still have to heal!” you blushed, resting your hands on his chest as you buried your face in his shoulder in embarrassment.
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vandnana · 1 year
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Your Protector (i)
pairing: neteyam x female omaticaya reader (best friends to lovers)
summary: You and Neteyam grew up together, always knowing the feelings you had for each other, but too shy to vocalize it. But, when you leave with the Sullys to seek refuge with the metkayina people, Neteyam can’t help but finally tell you...after seeing you with Aonung
genre: fluff, *smut [at the end]
warnings: kissing, sensual scenes, jealousy
*characters are aged up*
word count: 6000+
— kinda slow burn, but definitely a lot of tension, follows the general story line with many moments between you and him 
[part 2 is here!] [part 3 (finale)]
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Neteyam. He always liked to call himself your protector and you hated it. You always told him you could protect yourself. It was one of those things that he admired about you. You could do just about anything. You were practically perfect to him. Nothing could ever change his mind about that. You were his best friend, but the pressure he felt everywhere else always stopped him from ever telling you how much he really loved you, how he sees you and no one else.
You and Neteyam were inseparable since the day you met and you thought that it would always be that way. He was the only person that made you feel courageous and shy at the same time, but you did a pretty good job hiding how you felt about him.
Until he told you that he would have to leave the forest.
“How can I stay here knowing that you are out there?” You yelled, tears falling from your eyes.
He stepped forward, yelling back at you, “Y/n, this is for the people, to protect you all. I-“ Neteyam stopped himself when you averted your eyes from him, not wanting to listen.
He took hold of your arms, but you pushed him away. “Do not touch me.”
Still, he inched closer to you, but you backed away, your tears pouring over your face, angry cries escaping from your mouth.
Seeing you cry hurt him, but Neteyam did his best to sound strong, even though the thought of leaving you broke his heart too.
“I cannot let you come with us, y/n! We are being hunted. You must stay here. It is the only way I will know you are protected. It is the only way I will know you are safe.”
You shook your head, your heart breaking as he took his steps toward you. You let yourself stand still as he approached, your hands hitting at his chest as he wrapped his arms around you.
You looked up at him, unblinking, your tone revealing your pained frustration, “Why am I the only one who should be protected? Did you ever think that perhaps I would want to protect you? I want to protect you too Neteyam. You are stupid for thinking I could ever be without you. Stupid.”
You felt out of breath after all that lay in your mind spilt out into the thick air between you. There it was. That courage you always had when you were with him, but as he stood, speechless, only looking at you, you became shy. Just like you always did.
His firm expression softened as he processed your words, his cheeks reddening, his heart racing in response to being so close to you, your foreheads almost touching, and butterflies finding a home in his stomach, whirling around as he looked at you. Butterflies had also found you, flying around as his eyes were on you, and you could not look away for that moment. Your heart matched his, rapidly pacing in your chest, the only thing separating the two of you were your hands still at his chest. You could pretend the butterflies weren’t there and you could pretend that your heart raced because you were angry. Yet, you could not hide the newfound blush that was forming on your cheeks, and once you felt the heat settling on your face, you pushed away from him, your eyes downcast.
“I am going. You cannot convince me otherwise.” You said before quickly leaving the tent, walking off to find Jake and Neytiri.
“Are you sure you want to? You can never come back here.” Jake’s expression was serious, his voice stern.
“What have you always said? Sullys stick together. The sky people killed my family. You are all I have left.” The memory was painful, but it was the truth, and Jake knew it.
Looking at Neytiri, she gave a doleful look, giving him a small nod, then turning to you, “You will come with us.”
When you and the Sullys touched down onto the Awa’atlu Village, the metkayina people surrounded you, tilting their heads at your odd appearance. They had clearly already made up their minds about you all. You were different. Foreign.
Two boys about your age approached you, Lo’ak, and Neteyam, the taller one taking hold of Lo’ak’s tail for a moment and laughing, “Is this supposed to be a tail?”
You eyed them darkly, as they looked at you, Neteyam inching closer to you as they walked by.
“Aonung, Rotxo stop it!” A gentle voice scolded. Looking over, it was a girl, their sister, you assumed.
When the chief, Tonowari, and his mate, Ronal came, the tension in the air was thick as Jake maintained his calm, pleading with the couple to give sanctuary to his family. Ronal’s hesitation worried you for a moment, but hearing Jake’s plea, they agreed to grant you refuge in their home and teach you the their ways.
“My children will teach your children how to live like us.” Tonowari proclaimed, much to Aonung’s dismay.
But, Tsireya, the chief’s daughter, smiled, motioning for all of you to follow, “Come, I will show you where you will live.”
Everyone followed, Jake taking the lead. You observed around you, in awe at how different everything was. People were casting nets out into the sea to fish, children were playing in the water beneath the walkways, and the weapons you could see were spears, not the bow and arrows you were used to, and all around, there were animals swimming peacefully.
After settling down in your hut, Tsireya guided you all toward the edge of one of the docks, starting your first lesson in the water. Her and her brothers dove into the water, Lo’ak and Neteyam following after them, then you, Kiri, and Tuk last.
While the others seemed to struggle more, you and Kiri were able to hold your own in the water almost instantly. The others swam after Tsireya and her siblings, but you stayed with Kiri, mesmerized by the creatures in the ocean. While Kiri did her usual thing, admiring the animals and plants, you simply loved how it felt to be submerged in the water, staring up at the surface, the sun creating glimmers in your surroundings.
It didn’t take long for everyone to realize the two of you had strayed off, but Tsireya was able to find the two of you quickly, and when you noticed her and the others coming, you nudged Kiri, swimming up to the surface with her.
Breaking the water, Neteyam swam to you, taking hold of your arms, his face etched with worry. “Do not scare me like that. You could have been hurt.”
“I am fine. I am not a baby.” You pushed him away lightly, your eyes bilious for a moment before softening as he continued to survey your face, making sure your weren’t hurt anywhere, “I’m sorry for worrying you.”
You and him still had not discussed what happened at the tent, so you both pretended like everything was fine, but the tension between the both of you was painfully obvious to everyone else. Lo’ak and Kiri glanced at one another, giving each other a knowing look.
Tsireya continued to teach you all, from breathwork to their sign language. Once the sun began to set, you went your separate ways. Heading back to the tent, Jake and Neytiri were on the floor, urging you all to sit and eat.
The day felt long, but you were determined to adapt, ready for whatever the next day had in store for you.
Everything was slowly becoming second nature to you as days passed. You fell into a comfortable rhythm with the others in the village, finding your way in the water, and connecting with the animals around you. Even breathing the metkayina way had become easier, but Neteyam still struggled slightly, and it was you who would help him practice.
You and Neteyam were in what you guys decided would be your spot on the island. You found it while the two of you were exploring the reef, you diving just a little too far down and Neteyam, worried beyond belief, catching up to you. There was a cave, hidden behind the giant anemones and coral, and somehow, entering it, you found that the cave itself was not submerged in water, preserving the air for you to breathe in. You and him were sitting across from each other, the pool of water that would lead you back out into the reef beside you, rippling slightly at the echoing in your voices.
“No, no you’re doing it wrong. You keep breathing from your chest. You have to slow your heart rate down and breathe from below.” You instructed, demonstrating it yourself.
“I know! I know. I’m trying. Why are you so bossy?” Neteyam replied, knowing the comment would irritate you.
“Maybe I would not be so bossy if you could do it right!” You let out in annoyance. Neteyam only laughed, amused at how easily he could get under your skin.
“You laugh now, but when you are drowning I won’t save you.” You punched him in the chest lightly, trying to keep a straight face. He had one of those laughs that made you want to laugh too.
Rolling his eyes, he scoffed, “Really? You would let your protector drown? I don’t think so.”
Annoyed, you pushed him again, “Or maybe I should just kill you now.”
He raised his eyebrows cockily, and again, you brought your hands up to hit him, but he dodged, grabbing your arms instead. Using all your body weight, you drove him back, sending him downward on the ground with you on top of him. The action caught him off guard and he let go of your arms and taking the chance, you pinned him down.
“It is just too easy.” You let out, a satisfied grin on your face. “Fine, fine you win.” Neteyam muttered. He was about to sit up, but you moved ever so slightly on top of him, making his breath hitch. He looked away from you, feeling his whole body heat up.
You mistook his actions, laughing maniacally, “Don’t tell me you are out of breath from just that?” You teased, putting your head on his chest, the sound of his heart beat rapidly beating against your ear.
“And your heart is beating so fast too.” You continued, bringing your head back up to look at him, but as you did, you realized your closeness, bringing a scarlet hue to your cheeks. You hadn’t been this close since the day at the tent.
Your gaze only made things worse for Neteyam, his tail raising underneath him at the movement, making him sit up quickly, taming it down before it brushed against you.
His face was red now, and with a frustrated sigh, he finally looked at you, “Of course my heart is beating fast. I’m with you.”
When the words spilled out of his mouth, he instantly regretted it. This was not how he wanted to tell you how he felt. His words came out too messily and he was ashamed.
You blinked at him, that shyness revealing itself again, his words stirring butterflies in your stomach.
“What do you mean?” You whispered softly, but he couldn’t bring himself to look at you.
You spoke again, leaning forward and placing your hand on his chest, “Neteyam, tell me.”
Clearing his throat, he spoke, trying to sound confident, “We should get going. I should go check on the others, make sure they are not causing trouble.”
You knew that was a lie.
You got up and he followed suit, still avoiding your eyes, “Neteyam—“But, he didn’t speak another word, only managing a weak smile at you, pretending he wasn’t bothered.
When you got back to the village, Neteyam said goodbye to you, hastily walking away. You followed him though, practically running through village. You were so focused on catching him you didn’t notice Kiri calling your name.
Grabbing your arm, she finally caught your attention, sensing the panic in your body language. “Y/n what’s wrong?” She asked, concern painted in her eyes.
“It’s Neteyam. He’s acting weird and I don’t know why. He just… ran away from me.” You explained, putting your hand on your head as you tried to piece together what happened.
Kiri rubbed your back, “I’m sure everything’s fine. You know Neteyam. Sooner or later he’ll tell you what’s on his mind. Especially if it’s you. I wouldn’t worry too much.”
You nodded at her words, taking a deep breath. “Why don’t we go into the water before dinner. It will be a good distraction.You smiled, nodding as she took your hand and led you to shore.
You planned on diving into the water but Kiri noticed something in the sand and as if she was entranced, she laid down, “Come, (y/n) look!”
Submerging her head in the water, she fixed her eyes on one spot and taking a breath, you did too, lying on your stomach across from her.You weren’t exactly sure what you were looking at, but you stayed with Kiri, observing what was in front of you intently. The two of you stayed like that for a while until the sound of voices made you lift your head out of the water.
It was Aonung and three other boys. You rolled your eyes, “What do you want?”
Kiri finally lifted her head, confused as to what was going on.
Aonung kept a vile smirk on his face, his eyes going back and forth between the two of you. “Nothing, we just wanted to see what the two freaks were doing.”
You grabbed Kiri’s hand and began walking to the shore, turning your head toward the boys, “Funny, I was just about to say the same thing to you.” You spat back, Kiri laughing at your response.
The comment clearly angered them all as they stomped behind you, Aonung gabbing Kiri’s arm as a retaliation.
“Hey, get your hands off her!” You yelled, but he only laughed, his eyebrows raised slyly.
From the way you were balling up your fists, Kiri could tell you were beyond pissed now, taking hold of your arm to pull you away, “Come on y/n let’s go.”
You could have listened, but instead you threw a punch that caught Aonung off guard. Aonung and the rest of his boys stepped forward, but Lo’ak and Neteyam appeared to finish the fight, Lo’ak throwing another punch and Neteyam jumping in to help. Eventually, one of the men of the village noticed, breaking up the fight and sending you back to Jake.
As the three of you approached the hut, Jake turned to you, his face disappointed.
Neteyam watched his father, stepping forward, “This is my fault sir.”
“No it’s not. You gotta stop taking the blame for this knucklehead,” pointing at Lo’ak who looked away. “Go apologize. I don’t care how you do it.”
“But dad!—“ Lo’ak protested, but you stepped forward.
“Do not blame your sons. This is my fault, Jake. Aonung called Kiri a freak so I punched him first. It is me who should apologize.” You admitted, looking down at your feet.
“I expect this from these two, but not you y/n. You should know better. You both go apologize.” Jake scolded, his tone clearly frustrated.
You and Lo’ak nodded your heads before walking out of the hut.Lo’ak groaned, “Ugh. I can’t believe we have to say sorry to him.”
You slung your arm over his shoulder, “Let’s just get it over with, okay?” You gave him a reassuring look, which seemed to make him relax.
Appearing next to you, Neteyam slung his arm around your other shoulder, “Hey, you okay?”
You leaned the boys’ heads toward yours, hugging them both before grabbing their ears and pinching.
“Ow! Ow! Y/n that hurts!” Neteyam whined, his brother echoing the same cry.
“You guys are such a pain in my ass.” You lamented, before finally letting go.
“You’re the one who punched him first!” Lo’ak complained.
“Yes, but who came in and kept punching?” You retorted, the two of them avoiding your gaze.
You chuckled, “Thank you for doing that. It was stupid, but… you guys looked cool.”
Neteyam scoffed cockily, “Of course we did.” You glanced over at Neteyam, his mouth formed in a satisfied grin.
“Well, come on,” You motioned over to Lo’ak, “let’s go apologize.” You huffed.
“Y/n, wait” Neteyam called, grabbing your hand, you turned, your eyebrows raised expectantly.
Clearing his throat, he spoke, “When you come back, I have to tell you something.”
You nodded, “Wait for me at our spot, okay?”
Letting go of your hand reluctantly, he agreed, waving to you as you both walked away.
“I’m sorry I hit you. So many times.” Lo’ak apologized, and you reluctantly said sorry too, trying not to look indifferent. The boys looked at one another before accepting his apology.
You motioned for Lo’ak to follow you, but Aonung did something you did not expect.
“So what do you say? We are going hunting. Outside the reef. It is where the men hunt. Are you coming?” Aonung coaxed, glancing over at the other boys mischievously.
“No way. I’m not allowed.” Lo’ak said, starting to guide his ilu toward you.
Calling out, Aonung struck a nerve in Lo’ak, “I must be talking to the wrong brother then.”
Without any hestiation, Lo’ak turned around, “Let’s do it.”
You grabbed him, sensing something wrong, you gave Lo’ak a warning look, “Lo’ak, let’s go.”
He pushed you away, swimming after Aonung and the boys. Groaning, you looked back at the village before diving to follow them.
When you had reached Three Brothers Rocks, you dove after the boys, watching as Aonung began to swim up to the surface.
“What are you doing?” You hissed, your expression dark. Saying nothing, they only laughed, taking off on their ilus, leaving you and Lo’ak to the boundless ocean.
Not long after, Lo’ak surfaced, confused to find only you in the water, “Where are they?”
“Gone.” You flared, trying to calm yourself down as anger set its threshold in you.
Hopping on your ilus, you began to swim back, but a force from underneath the water sent you and Lo’ak flying, off of your ilu and back into the depths. As the water settled around you, you could finally see what had sent you back, a creature, intent on killing you both. You and Lo’ak glanced at one another quickly before swimming toward the coral, taking refuge in its labyrinth. The creature charged, biting the coral to get to you, but you continued to move inward. When it reached a point that it could not break, the creature retreated briefly, giving you a moment to calm yourself to control your breath.
You looked at Lo’ak, but you could tell he was panicking and you grabbed hold of him gently to reassure him. It seemed to work, but you knew he had reached his threshold of breath. You urged him upward quickly, hoping that the creature would not come back. Freeing yourself from the coral, you reached the open water, continuing to push him up. But, the creature had waited for you, turning its body to face the two of you. Grabbing your knife, you held it up, bringing Lo’ak behind you, but your chance to use it never came as another animal came, charging and killing the creature.
A tulkun.
Suddenly, you felt Lo’ak’s body go limp behind you, and you caught him, holding him as you approached the surface. The tulkun swam underneath you, taking you to the surface on its fin.
Once you broke the water, you breathed in deeply, turning Lo’ak over and pushing on his stomach, expelling the water trapped in his lungs.He coughed violently, before sitting up. Taking in his surroundings, unsure if he was alive or not.
“We survived.” You breathed, “Thanks to this tulkun.”
Its clicks sounded through the air in response and you smiled, looking into its eye, you signed, “Thank you for saving us.”
Lo’ak signed too, stroking above its eye.“Hey, look.”
You slid off its fin, observing the harpoon stuck in its flesh. Lo’ak gave an apologetic expression, his eyes sad from the sight. The two of you took it out, and the tulkun clicked radiantly as a thank you.
You were intrigued by the tulkun, watching as Lo’ak signed to the creature. You smiled as you watched him make a connection with it, but as you waded longer in the water, a stinging pain began to burn on your back.
“Agh—“ You hissed, pushing your hair away to reveal a large cut across your back. Seeing the cut, Lo’ak’s eyes widened, “We need to get you back to the village,” Turning, Lo’ak faced the tulkun, “Please take us to the village.”
As you swam, the salt water burned into your wounds, but you were able to bear it, gritting your teeth when the pain would intensify. The tulkun stopped at the edge of the village, and you both said goodbye to your new friend.
It was Neteyam who figured out you were both missing. When you didn’t show up at your guys’ spot, he knew there was something wrong. One of the warriors surveying the water caught sight of the two of you, taking you on the back of their boat to the edge of the docks where everyone was waiting.
When you saw Aonung, your expression was vicious, hissing at him as Lo’ak was readying himself to fight again, but Jake pushed the both of you back and Neytiri approached the two of you angrily. Your disdain was fixed on your face until you saw Neteyam, who could only apologize for not being there, his eyebrows furrowed in deep shame.
Jake and Neytiri scolded their son, apologizing for Lo’ak in front of Tonowari, but he refused. Tonowari knew Aonung knew better than to take Lo’ak outside the reef, and urged that it was his son to blame.
You felt relieved hearing this, but that feeling vanished once Lo’ak spoke.
“No sir. This is my fault. Aonung tried to talk me out of it, but I didn’t listen.” Lo’ak lied.
“Lo’ak!” You piped in disbelief.
Jake sighed, taking Lo’ak by the arm and Neteyam turned his attention to you, helping you up onto the dock. You and him walked forward, but a sudden shot of agonizing pain surged through you, your vision fading to black as your mind began to shut off, “Neteyam.” Your voice breathy and weak as he looked over at you, catching your body as you fell, your mind finally sending you into darkness.
When you finally awoke, you were lying down in a hut you had never been in before, the sun shining on your face as you opened your eyes. The pain in your back was gone and you took a deep breath in.
“You’re awake! She’s awake! She’s awake!” You heard, looking over to find Tuk beside you.
Then suddenly, the Sully children gathered around you, relief washing over their faces as you sat up.
Neteyam who had been standing in front of the hut rushed to you, kneeling and taking your hand in his, “I am so happy you are alright,” He beamed, smiling at you.
You beamed back, quickly repositioning yourself to hug him, sending him backward onto the ground.
“Okay. Barf. I’m leaving.” Lo’ak said, rolling his eyes at the two of you before walking out of the hut, Kiri and Tuk following after him.
You paid no mind to Lo’ak, your attention focused on Neteyam. You were not sure how long you had been unconscious, but it must have been agonizing for him, and the thought of him being in such pain caused you heartache. You leaned into his ear, your voice quiet as you spoke, “I am sorry for worrying you again.”
Your breath on his ear sent an instant flush to his body, concentrating at his cheeks, painting them a shade of pink. He gulped, trying to calm himself down. With you still on top of him, he sat himself up, never taking his eyes off you.
Sheepishly, he shook his head, “No, do not apologize. I am just…” he paused, taking a second to study your face admiringly, “I am just happy that you are alright.”
You laughed, standing up and holding your hand for him to take, “You already said that.”
He took your hand lifting himself up, sighing as he now stood, “Even at a time like this, you love to tease me.”
“Of course. I was knocked out for a while. I must make up for the lost time.” You joked, earning a laugh from him.
You guys stayed in a comfortable silence before you remembered the conversation you had before you left.
“Neteyam, before…you said you wanted to tell me something.”
“Right…” He began, rubbing the back of his neck nervously, “Y/n, I wanted to tell you…”
You stepped forward, looking at him expectantly, “Yes?” He took your hand, gulping as he tried to piece the words together in his mind, “I wanted to tell you I—“
“Y/n.”
At the sound of your name, you pulled away from Neteyam, looking over at where the voice had come from.
Seeing who the voice belonged to you rolled your eyes. “What do you want Aonung?”
“I-I— can I talk to you for a second?” Neteyam looked your way, tilting his head as he wondered what you were going to do.
You let a breath in, “Fine, fine. Let’s talk.”
You walked toward the entrance of the hut, but Neteyam put a hand on your shoulder, “If you do not want to talk to him, you do not have to.”
“Who said I was going to talk to him? Maybe I’ll just hit him.” You grunted, giving him a reassuring look.
Neteyam knew what you meant, giving Aonung a warning look before exiting the hut.
When Aonung stepped inside, you could feel your anger returning to you as you looked at him, but you did you best to hold it in, “What do you want to say?”
“I am sorry. For treating you the way I did and for what happened to you.” His head was downcast, and seeing that annoyed you.
“If you want to apologize to someone properly, look them in the eye.” You hissed, placing your hand on his chin, you forced his gaze.
You expected him to be smirking like he usually did, but he wasn’t. His expression was, for the first time, apologetic.
“I’m sorry. I mean it. I-I really am.” It was all he could find himself to say, keeping his eyes locked on yours.
You studied him for a moment, still in disbelief. “It is hard for me to accept your apology, but for the sake of peace, I will.”
Outside, Neteyam watched you and him from a distance, wondering what conversation the two of you could be having for you to hold his chin the way that you were. He could feel a sense of unease rise within him as he watched.
“What are you doing?”
Jumping, Neteyam turned around to find it was only his younger brother, his face curious.
Looking back at the hut, Neteyam grunted coolly, “Nothing.”
Following his gaze, Lo’ak smirked seeing you and Aonung in the hut, “Are you jealous big bro?”
“I am not. Me? Jealous? Of him? No way.” He replied defensively.
“Really?” Lo’ak glanced again behind his brother, turning him around, “So that doesn’t bother you at all?”
Aonung stepped closer to you, putting his hand out, “Friends?” Aonung said.
You grabbed hold of his arm, “Friends.”
Neteyam gulped, but did not want to give Lo’ak the satisfaction of being right, “They are probably just making up. That does not means anything.”
Lo’ak, amused, continued to joke, “You better hurry up bro. He’s already making moves on her.”
“Shut up.” Hitting his brother on the shoulder, scowling.
“What’s happening?”
It was Kiri with Tuk by her side. Lo’ak couldn’t resist making fun of his brother again.“
Neteyam’s jealous because Aonung is talking to y/n.”
“I am not!” Neteyam protested.
“Come on, just admit it.” Lo’ak nudged, sparking another flow of arguments between the boys.
“This is so stupid.” Kiri said, rolling her eyes.
Tuk, who only caught ins and outs of the conversation, only really cared when she heard your name and had also caught sight of you at the same time.
“Oh look it’s y/n! She’s about to get in the water. Come on, Kiri, let’s go to her!” Tuk begged, latching onto her sister’s arms, running to where you and Aonung were.
The boys had finally stopped arguing, Neteyam running with his sisters in an attempt to catch you, but you and Aonung were already in the water with your ilus, swimming fast and far from them. Aonung had challenged you to a race and you couldn’t help but accept.
Neteyam was about to jump in the water too, but Kiri stopped him, “My god, you really are jealous. You’re really going to follow her?”
Neteyam scoffed, “That doesn’t mean I’m jealous.”
But even he knew that what he was saying was a lie, his siblings groaning at his response.
They elected to wait for you on the shore, Tuk running quickly, urging her siblings to hurry up, Neteyam trudging behind everyone.
Aonung was fast, catching up to you as you distanced yourselves from the village, but you were determined to win and as Aonung approached, tailing your ilu, you had built up enough momentum to shoot forward toward victory.
Disconnecting from your ilu, you got out of the water, a satisfied grin plastered on your face. The minute the Sullys saw you emerge from the water, they made their way over, Tuk running to you excitedly.
“Guess who just beat Aonung in an ilu race?” You said to her playfully, picking her up and spinning her. She giggled, sticking her tongue out.
Aonung stepped forward, scowling, “That was just beginner’s luck.”
“Maybe, but you still lost. You should not have triggered my competitiveness.” You sneered, putting Tuk down.
Lo’ak and Kiri gathered around you, proudly whooping as you approached, but Neteyam stood behind you all, his arms crossed, eyeing Aonung as he stood beside you, too close for his liking.
“I want a rematch.” He challenged.
But you shook your head at him, “I must refuse. I would not want to embarrass you a second time.”
At closer glance, you suddenly looked different to Aonung. The sun was reflecting off of you, your wet skin glistening, your smile radiating as you continued to tease him in front of everyone. You looked pretty to him.
He wanted to keep being around you, staring as the newfound thought stained his cheeks with a faint blush, a sudden confidence taking over him, “If you won’t race with me again, then go for a dive with me instead.” Holding out his hand to you, he nudged for you to take it.
Seeing this, Neteyam uncrossed his arms, his eyes shot at you as he waited for your response, hoping you would refuse.
You looked at his hand, then at him, tilting your head.
“Right now?” You asked, and he nodded eagerly.
Not waiting for your answer, he took your hand anyway, leading you toward the ocean, “Come on.”
“Wait, Aonung—“ You began, but you were interrupted as Neteyam came up beside you, pulling you closer to him, breaking you away from Aonung’s grasp.
Calling his ilu, he sat you in front of him, telling you to hold your breath before taking off, leaving everyone on the shore stunned.
Aonung watched as the two of you disappeared and once everyone processed everything, Lo’ak patted Aonung’s shoulder. “Sorry man, you never stood a chance.”
You were facing Neteyam as he rode, watching him as he concentrated on where he was going, his eyebrows furrowed and his mouth slightly pursed. You looked at your surroundings, recognizing familiar structures of coral, and you smiled. You knew where he was taking you.
When you arrived at the entrance of your spot, Neteyam disconnected from his ilu, taking your hand and leading you into your cave. Breaking water, you both took a breath, his hand still in yours, you tightened your grip around it, causing him to look at you. You swam toward the edge of the pool, pulling him with you, the two of you pulling yourselves out of the water.
You took his hands into yours, feeling the heat in you rising and the butterflies in your stomach coming back to you, fluttering quietly as you waited for him to say something.
But Neteyam stood, speechless, looking at you, admiring you. He owed you so much, but did not know what to say, too abashed by the feelings that arose every time the two of you were this close.
“Why did you do that?” You asked softly, caressing his hand. But you felt you knew the answer. You just hoped that what you felt was true.
“I didn’t like it.” He let out nervously, your confused expression begging for him to say more.
“I didn’t like the way he was looking at you, how we was holding your hand. I-I hated it.” His head was downcast, ashamed at such childish feelings.
You took one of his hands up, placing it on your chest where your heart was. The movement made him look at you, his mouth open in surprise and the familiar heat in his face intensifying.
“Do you feel how my heart beats?” It was beating fast and was only growing in pace as Neteyam kept his soft gaze on you.
He nodded, looking at you with a dreamy smile, which you happily returned.
You placed your hand on his chest, feeling as his heart beat matched yours, “My heart beats like this because of you.”
You let go of him, turning away. It was only when you did this that Neteyam realized just how your warmth affected him, how cold it would suddenly feel when you weren’t beside him.
”But, you must choose me, Neteyam. There are many women, all beautiful women for you to choose.”
Neteyam shook his head, approaching your turned back, his voice confident, “I do not want another woman. I only want you, y/n.”
Instantly, you faced him, smiling brightly, taking his hands into yours again, returning the warmth around him, around the both of you. It wasn’t a feeling that Neteyam wanted to let go of.
He leaned in, pressing his lips against yours, letting go of your hands and instead taking hold of your waist, his grip tightening as he pulled you closer. As you wrapped your arm around his neck, you felt his tail brush against your leg, the movement slow, loving. You let out a slight moan, making Neteyam only deepen the kiss. The heat between the two of you burned with every movement, Neteyam lowering your bodies to the ground, taking hold of one of your legs as you wrapped it around him.
You weren’t sure how long the two of you laid together, but once you pulled away, the two you let silence fill the cave, your foreheads touching as you embraced. Neteyam grabbed his queue from behind him, and you leaned back, watching as he brought it in front of you.
“I see you.”
You brought your queue in front of you, looking at him before making the bond.
“I see you.”
When you felt the bond, your entire being connected with his, every sensation between the two of you charging as the amorous look in his eyes sent your heart into a frenzy. Neteyam, still with his forehead to yours, kissed your cheek before letting his lips explore every part of you. You closed your eyes with every touch, the core of you reaching a new state of bliss. Returning, Neteyam brought his lips to yours again and you savored the feeling, another wave of heat ready to burst in you. You reached down, and Neteyam pulled away, his look unsure, but you nodded reassuringly, bringing his head back down to connect your lips once more. There was nothing between you now, the little space that you once had now gone as Neteyam pushed into you, his movements passionate and loving. Your hand was at his back, the other clutching his hair as he kept going. The closeness between you and the love you could feel conjured up tears in your eyes, a moan escaping your mouth at every motion, your toes curling as the momentum continued, building and building until finally you both reached your bliss.
Pulling away breathlessly, Neteyam looked at you again, and not being able to contain how happy he was, smiled warmly at you before peppering your cheeks with kisses.
You giggled, lifting yourself up, him holding onto you. still, your tails curling around each other.
“So, this was how you felt… all this time?” You asked innocently, only wanting him to hear him say it one more time.
Taking your cheek in his hand, a mischievous smile took over his lips, “If it wasn’t clear…I can show you again.” His eyes suggestive as he raised his eyebrows.
You rolled your eyes at him, lifting your arm to punch him lightly, but he grabbed it, pulling you in for another kiss. You relaxed under his grasp, but gently pulled away.
“You can’t just kiss me now every time you say something stupid.” You tried to sound firm, but your heart was turning to mush by the second.
He leaned in, kissing your cheek gently before resting his head on the crook of your neck.
“I am yours now, y/n. All my kisses belong to you now, so I have to deliver.”
“Hmm… I don’t know, I think I’m still gonna go for a dive with Aonung after this.” You teased, he lifted his head, looking at you in disbelief.
“Don’t even joke about that.” His voice serious, as you put a hand to your mouth, trying not to laugh.
“I’m kidding. I’m kidding. I’m yours, okay? I’m yours.”
[part 2!]
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lina-lovebug · 3 months
Text
I'd Fight The Devil
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Part 1, Part 2, Part 3
Background: (Y/N) Morningstar with her partner, Alastor, has decided to put some of the Overlords in their place.
Warning: Alastor being Alastor, mentions of pregnancy but no one's pregnant, and Alastor might have a breeding kink
_ _ _
"(Y/N)! What a surpri-!"
"I believe that's Princess (Y/N) Morningstar, Heir to the throne of Hell, and Duchess of Chaos - to you," Alastor loved doing this. He adored how (Y/N) had decided to start using her true power, and to bring respect back to her name.
The family name, to be exact.
Valentino chuckled nervously as (Y/N) scoped out the place, her horns ever presenting and tail flicking with annoyance.
"What a pleasure to be hosting you, Princess. What would be the reason for this visit?" Valentino asked, offering her a drink.
"I'm fine, thank you," She dismissed it, already smelling the poison inside the cocktail.
"I'm here to discuss Angel Dust, and your contract with him."
"If he's too much trouble for the hotel, I'll happily-"
"You're the one causing the trouble," Alastor cut him off.
Valentino sputtered, "me?!"
"You can feign innocence all you wish, Val, but I've heard that you've called my sister a bimbo, along with many other colorful names," (Y/N) slowly stood up, leaning over his desk as the lights started to go out - one by one.
"Charlie is nice. She's always been the kinder of us Morningstars, but apparently this makes you think that you can go and soil our name. My father could have strung every sinner on a hook for eternity, torturing you all second by second as your screams sung into our great halls," no one had been unfortunate enough to see the form of (Y/N) Morningstar, and Val was one of them.
Her height expanded to nine feet tall, her pretty black nails forming into claws and her eyes ablaze with scarlet serpent pupils.
And wings - oh great black wings that could make even Adam rethink his attack.
When he was still alive, of course.
"And you sully his gift by mocking us."
"Look, Vox did it first! Okay?! He said you'd never-!" Val tripped on a tentacle that came from her beloved Alastor, who dropped a TV by his feet.
But not just any TV.
"Oh God," Val gasped, "Vox. . .?"
"I took care of him earlier," Alastor grinned, still reminiscent on his screams.
"I couldn't have my dear (Y/N) sully her hands with his filth. But whatever the Princess wants, she gets."
Oh to see her come into her power was as chilling as death itself.
"You're so romantic, Alastor," (Y/N) smiled.
That's when Valentino spotted it. On the left hand of (Y/N) Morningstar was a ruby wedding ring, the band pure gold.
Alastor finally did it.
He climbed up the latter, but not through power.
Well yes, through power, but he certified that it would always be his.
By marrying Lucifers daughter.
"We're matching, isn't it adorable?" Alastor showed off his own wedding band, ruby's encrusted inside of it.
"Now, where were we?" She grinned, and as an engagement gift, the screams of Vox and Valentino were broadcasted throughout all of Hell.
And they say chivalry is dead.
_ ☆ _
"They're fucking crazy."
"They're made for each other."
On that, Angel Dust and Husker could agree.
The lovely couple had become the center of Hells attention after their engagement was announced, and even though Alastor thought it would be hilarious for Lucifer to find out through the papers, she told him first.
And he cried.
"Oh my baby is all grown up!" Lucifer sobbed loudly, clinging onto her legs, "look at you! You-you used to be this small!" Lucifer grabbed a duck, "and you were so tiny and so cute!"
"Am I invited?" Lucifer squeaked, staring up into her eyes.
"Yes, dad," She smiled, bringing him up to his feet, "but we want to wait a bit before we plan anything."
"You know she used to bite my finger?!" Lucifer grabbed the baby pictures of little (Y/N), "look at how small she was! Oh, and this one is my favorite!"
Alastor truly didn't mind how touchy Lucifer had become with him, but thankfully, Lucifer also knew when to stop.
"Wait, is that why you're getting married?! Did you impregnate my daughter?!" Lucifer gasped, shoving his hand on her stomach.
"Dad! Dad, no! I'm not pregnant!" She quickly cleared up.
"Unfortunately," Alastor muttered to himself. Oh to see her belly swell with his children - his own spawn, it made his cock twitch at the thought.
He was fond of children but his own? Oh he'd spoil his little prince or princess with all the blood sacrifices the world had to offer.
"Yeah but you know what marriage entails, kiddo!" He pointed at them both with finger guns, "first comes love, then comes marriage, then comes a baby-oh my GOD I'll be a grandpa!"
He started crying again.
She sighed, "at least we know our hypothetical child will be taken care of."
Alastor nodded, "I could not have picked a better father-in-law."
At this point, Lucifer was ugly crying.
Alastor looked at his beloved with a soft gaze as she tried calming her father down. To be honest, Alastor never thought he would ever find solace in Hell. He anticipated every day being a fight for his life, always looking over his shoulder and always striving for more power. And as cheesy as it sounded, he saw (Y/N) as his shining light. She brought out his sad heart, and for the first time in his life, he wished his mother was with him.
To see just what a wonderful woman he managed to catch.
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angelltheninth · 1 year
Text
Avatar Men Eating You Out
Pairing: Jake Sully, Neteyam, Lo'ak, Tsu'tey, Miles Quaritch, Aonung, Tonowari x Fem!Reader
Tags: nsfw, smut, oral sex, cunnilingus, biting, growling/purring, tail shenanigans, praise, marking, ocean sex, size difference
A/N: Cannot believe I didn't make this before. Its here now so come and get your food Avatar lovers!
JAKE SULLY
He's whimpering loudly the whole time he's between your legs, both careful and eager to please, almost at war with the two. Your taste leaves him drunk, the only thought in his head being how to get more of it, how to make your pussy squirt all over his face while you dig your nails into his scalp to grind against his mouth better.
NETEYAM
Man with the plan for sure. He is very slow and deliberate in the way he uses his fingers to part your folds, rubbing then in between while his mouth is glued to your little clit, sucking it to full hardness in his mouth. You look so pretty already, he could and will get lost between your legs for hours, all the way to dawn, memorizing every way your body aches and moves, how you moan for him, until he doesn't even need to think about it, he can just make you come.
LO'AK
Goes down on you very fast and sloppy. Your juices are smearing his chin, his chest, his fingers but he doesn't care how messy it is, all he cares about is making you make as many of those pretty noises as possible. He's playfully pressing his fangs against your clit, they're cold to the touch, right before he warms it with his curious and adventurous tongue.
TSU'TEY
Is a little hesitant at first. Not because he doesn't want to but because well... he could hurt you if he's not careful. You're so fragile compared to him, your human body much more prone to injury. The only way he will do it is if you sit on his face while he does. Oh fuck, he didn't expect how hot that would be, your pussy all puffy and wet, dripping onto his tongue, practically begging to be devoured by him. He was never one to back down from an offer that sweet.
MILES QUARITCH
Teases you for hours and hours, dragging orgasm after orgasm from you, his jaw starting to hurt a little but he ain't no quitter. He's not stopping until you literally beg him to. And even then he can't guarantee he'll have mercy on you. Hearing your broken moans, seeing you twitching just from a single lick makes him feel so damn smug, so damn proud to call you his woman. Ain't no one in the universe with pussy as sweet as yours.
AONUNG
He's eating you out in the ocean, keeping you up above the water with his tail. You might think he wouldn't be able to taste you but he can, your taste is always on his tongue. You may not be able to hear him growling against you but you sure as hell can feel him do it, feel the warm temperature of his tongue passing through your folds, pressing against your clit and dipping into your pussyhole for a better taste.
TONOWARI
He's got you on all fours, lapping at your pussy from behind and keeping you still with his strong, thick tail. You're bucking and bucking but to no avail, you can't get closer unless he lets you. And he's not letting you, he's in charge of your pleasure, the sooner you learn that the more orgasms you'll have. It works the other way around as well, be his good girl now and he'll let you do what ever you want for his cock later.
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oepionie · 1 year
Text
— "AND WHILE YOU SLEEP, I'LL BE SCARED." overblot gang 
SYNOPSIS: Your lover waking up from a horrific nightmare and scrambling to listen to your heartbeat so he can make sure you're still alive.
⊹ [ cw ] — angst, hurt/comfort, overblot, blood, glass shards injury, anxiety/panic attacks, insecurities, mentions of death, crying (them)◞
⊹ [ tags ] — ESTABLISHED RELATIONSHIP. GN! READER | riddle tears his room apart, leona feels immense guilt, caring leona, azul having a panic attack, vil being an absolute mess, vil speaks german, shy idia, jamil injures himself accidentally, jamil calls you 'albi' (my heart), malleus immortality angst ◞
⊹ [ w.c ] — 1.5k+◞
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✩—RIDDLE ROSEHEARTS:
It's far past his scheduled time for sleep.
A bitter taste is bubbling up in his throat and frothing against his tongue. Riddle doesn't know what this wretched feeling is. All he knows is that he's terrified. Perhaps that's why he allows himself to disturb your sleep, the maddening emotions slamming against his head becoming too much for him to handle.
"I-I apologize for waking you," Riddle rasps, slipping into your shared bed and burrowing his face deep into the crook of your neck. His breaths come out in quick and fleeting puffs, heart thrumming hard against his ribs.
In the dimness of the night, the myriad of mangled and torn-up books that were strewn and flung about the room in a frenzied fury could hardly be seen. Your gaze flickered down to your lover. The tips of Riddle's fingers were a blistering raw red, his once well-groomed nails now visibly chipped at its ends.
With a touch of your tender hands, you pull him down to rest against your chest.
"What's wrong?"
"I–I just…I recalled the incident of my overblot and how I hit you with that blast. H-How you nearly—" Clamping his eyes tight, Riddle dared not to finish that sentence. The boy trembles in your arms—ears fervently straining to hear the steady and melodic thump of your heart, a melody he feared he would never hear again.
A choked sob tumbles from his lips and your chest aches.
"…I'm sorry," was his quiet cry. "I'm so sorry."
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✩—LEONA KINGSCHOLAR:
Peacefully fast asleep, your back was nestled snug against the Leona's chest while his firm bicep protectively curled around your ribs.
Over the course of your relationship, Leona began to realize how much he loved having you in his arms. You were at peace when you slept, untouched and untainted by the stress and pain you dealt with every day.
He crept his free hand up your torso, cold fingers slipping underneath your shirt, skimming up your stomach, and settling above the spot on your chest where your heartbeat danced vividly against his touch. Leona splays his fingers out more, fixated on how the thrum of your life felt against his skin.
It was a daily struggle to keep his emotions at bay, ensuring that his strong feelings and magic wouldn't hurt you again. The nightmarish phantom of his blot still haunts him to this day. That wrath was an ugly and hideous beast he wished to keep locked away in the depths of his mind for all of eternity.
Yet, at the soft beat of your delicate heart against his sullied hands—Already, Leona finds himself wavering, uncharacteristically weak.
An overpowering mix of stress and strain washes over him, pooling up into watery blobs and flowing down his cheeks in faint streaks as he silently wept.
"Fuck," Leona curses, pulling your dozing form closer to him. "Fuck. Fuck, I'm sorry. You don't deserve this."
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✩—AZUL ASHENGROTTO:
The torment of nightmares was far worse than he remembered, but this dread he felt was unquestionably different, pressing in on him like a frigid cold. The icy sensation seeps into the marrows and dips of his flesh—his sole respite being your touch, which both warmed and scorched at his skin.
"Angelfish." Azul breathlessly sputtered, blindly patting around the bed in search of your body.
Through the fringes of his blacked out vision, he could barely make out your worried drowsy visage. This caused him to panic, pulse picking up, but you were quick to soothe him—reaching a hand out to press against his cheek. Finally finding you, the octo-mer pulled you towards his side of the bed, engulfing you in a tight hug.
Azul tried to stop the flood of tears that layered his face, but your soft lips strewn with kisses on his skin seemed to further elicit his unceasing cries. 
"I'm not going anywhere, Azul. I'm here." You whisper, cradling his face, but he was inconsolable. The octo-mer desperately clawed at your shirt as he pressed his ear deeper against your chest, practically melting into you.
The throbs of your heart echoed through his anguished mind, providing him with some semblance of comfort.
"Don't go….Please…" Azul sputters, body shaking from every deep, labored heave of his burning lungs, "Please."
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✩—JAMIL VIPER:
A strangled scream awoke you from your abyssal sleep, your bleary eyes ripping open to dart here and there around the room in a manic frenzy. The ensuing shattering smash of a glass further threw your thoughts into disarray.
"Jamil?!"
Your lover had stumbled off of the bed, now kneeling against the wooden flooring with the bedsheets pooling around his hips, sheets damp from the shattered glass of water on the floor.
A bloody hand clenched at his palpitating heart, glass shards digging into his skin, as his lungs fought to maintain his breathing.
You sprang from the mattress and skidded in his direction, but Jamil scrambled away from you.
"Albi, no. There's glass. Stay away. You're going to get hurt," Jamil stammered. Holding a shaky hand up, the boy avoided your gaze.
"Jamil—" Brows pinched together, you eased towards him. "I'm not going to get hurt, don't worry."
You stepped over the shards of crystal glass with caution and made your way past, "See?"
Once you were within his reach, Jamil caved in and slowly brought you into his arms—careful with his injury. He could feel the distant sting of the cuts on his hands, but he couldn't bring himself to care.
Leaning down, he lay his head over your heart. Even though the batter of your heart was frantic and panicked, it somewhat provided a steady beat for him to follow as he worked to untangle the complexities in his thoughts. Your lover sunk against you, anchoring himself against the warmth your body radiated.
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✩—IDIA SHROUD:
As the minutes pass, Idia was rapidly losing every meagre amount of confidence he managed to scrape together.
"Idia…honey? Please get up." You croon, running a hand through his flaming hair.
Though it seemed as if he didn't hear anything—Idia kept his head glued against your beating chest, refusing to get up from his position on the floor.
He's been kneeling before you for so long that the rough fabric of his pants burned and skidded against the tender skin of his knees, sending excruciating stings along the threads of his flesh.
"I—No…N-No…I can't." Idia's lips quiver, eyes glossing over as he diverts his gaze. The weight of his arms lay heavy against your legs, elbows resting by your knees while his dull nails dug into the skin at the back of your thighs.
"Why's that?" You whisper.
Idia shut his eyes. The flash of numerous dreams and nightmares he's suffered at the hands of his own demented twisted memories clouded his mind. It did not help that they were all molded out of his own self-inflicted pessimism...cruel and unforgiving. A reason as to why he couldn't bear to look at you tonight, not when the image of your mangled body was still fresh on his mind.
"I-I'm s-sor-sorry…I ca-can't get up…I need to…” he stumbles for words, his breathing picking up its pace. "I need to…need to know you're okay."
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✩—VIL SCHOENHEIT:
"Vil…" You worriedly murmur, pressing your lips against his mascara-stained cheeks, not minding the bitter aftertaste it left lingering in your mouth.
Laying atop the plush silk sheets of his king-sized bed, the dorm leader's eyes were ripped wide open as his chest heaved viciously. It was quite a rare sight as your lover lay vulnerable before you, heart bared open.
Oh, he was an absolute mess.
Dark streams of teary mascara ran down Vil's cheeks, his uniform wrinkled and his golden hair splayed out everywhere—unbound from its braids and tangled up.
The grip of his arms around your midsection tightens as he pressed you up closer against him, his head resting atop your chest. At the sound of your heartbeat, Vil allowed himself to unwind and let your affections banish away even the most ominous of his thoughts.
"Liebling…Es tut mir ehrlich Leid—" Vil rasps, his mother tongue dripping like honey from his lips as he suddenly found it difficult to speak the language he was so accustomed to every day.
Hushing him, you press a fleeting kiss against his brow line and Vil clamps his red-rimmed eyes shut, ceasing to say anything more.
"Hush now. Rest, my prince." You press a gentle kiss to his temple and brush the frizzes of his blonde hair away from his face.
A small smile quirks on his lips as he feels his stomach fluttering from the nickname. The look in his eyes is softly lit, warm like a candle.
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✩—MALLEUS DRACONIA:
One day, Malleus knows, you will be nothing more than wilted and withered ash.
It was a truth that wrapped around him like shackling chains—tearing, whipping and lashing against his raw, bare skin. No matter how hard he pulled, scratched, and screamed at it, the chains remained.
The clanging and grating iron truth about reality cannot be so easily pushed away. Human lives are fickle, and you would inevitably leave him.
Once you do, the fae prince knows he will be a mere shadow of his former self, a wretched and lonesome creature awaiting and longing for his lover who was no more than a ghost of his fleeting memories.
"I apologize for the disturbance, my treasure."
And yet, Malleus presses his hand firmly against your beating heart. A distant marching beat serving as his reminder that you were very much alive and well.
"I truly apologize." Malleus heaves, hands clamouring against your collarbone.
Although thick tension and silence still hung heavy in the air, the dragon basked in the warmth and feel of your flushed skin, a bitter smile gracing his lips as he lay beside you on the bed.
"Sweet dreams, beastie…"
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—TAGLIST:
꒰ ♡🧷: if you want to be tagged for ALL of my works, comment here!
@keedas @spadecentral @crypticbibliophile @pastellepastary @cassidycampfire @cocomollo @poisonioushearts @kawaiipotatoghost @ramvuda @sweeneyblue1 @the-lost-anime-dad @kyraxiyn   @skadi-winterfell @mushroomchaos101 @rainybeebs @taruruchi @fluffimemes @awkwardspontaneity @phoneandchips @gussuri
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etheries1015 · 5 months
Note
Because I have favorism towards the fae myself (And I'm sorry this is suggestive)
Remember Malleus' voice line about touching his hornes? Now, reader just touches them whenever they can be reached (like when Malleus is using their lap as a pillow) or stroking his tail whenever it's wrapped around Reader. Without realizing it's doing things to him.
Oh my gosh. Don't apologize for suggestive content, I love that shit. Feed me more of it. Heuheuheuheu.
Feeding a Faes hidden desires
Featuring: Malleus Draconia <3
General warnings: Gender neutral reader
18+ / suggestive content minors please don't interact~
It was difficult for Malleus Draconia to open up to people, he had to be the face of pure perfection for the sake of his kingdom. Every action he took, every word he said, would reflect upon Briar Valley and put his position as a prince in either light of greatness, or foolishness. The former was not an option for Malleus Draconia. He was given the best of the best when it came to his studies and academics, except, unfortunately, sex ed.
He understood the bare minimum of course, for reproduction was important for keeping the bloodline of the Draconias strong. What he was not well versed in, however, was the feeling of lust that came with reproduction. He never knew it could feel so... dirty.
When he had agreed to allow you to touch his horns when you insisted, he had no clue what kind of...desires this would stir up in him without realizing.
You had asked the draconic fae to touch his horns and his tail, and he spent a few times urging you otherwise in fear of harming you in some way. Yet it did not take him very long to feel curious and begin to imagine how your hands would feel upon his horns and extremities, starting out purely out of curiosity and the desire to be closer to you.
The first time you touched his horns was in the comfort of the lounge, he bent over for you to touch and feel them freely before being interrupted by Sebeks outraged cries of blasphemy. Since the moment your soft fingertips pressed against the roughness of his obsidian horns, he felt his body shudder at the contact, and something in him he decided to ignore screamed in his mind that it was perhaps a...dangerous endeavor. He had managed to suppress himself from such thoughts and desires, even allowing you to (on occasion) touch his horns and tail at your request. Never for too long, for when the thoughts returned he made a quick excuse to end the session. He wanted to respect you and your soft touch- not sully the romantic gesture with lustful thoughts.
He was often searching for your touch in many different ways, in hugs, cuddles, gentle kisses, holding hands...yet a few months and almost a year, he could feel himself become far more greedier. Malleus would notice the slight changes in himself when you would reach up to grab hold of something on a shelf, the way your shirt rode up your stomach ever so slightly, the way your hands would draw circles around the title page to get a feel for the book, he almost felt himself envious of the piece of literature. He told himself not to lose control, to hold himself together like a proper gentlefae, allowing you to only touch his draconic features on the rare occasion he felt he could keep himself properly composed.
Yet now there you were, in your room in Ramshackle dorm, sitting upon the lap of your lover gently caressing his smooth black horns absentmindedly. It was a comfortable atmosphere for you, being held lovingly by your tall fae significant other in silence while pouring your love and affection into your little pets upon his horns. You muttered a "beautiful..." before leaning up slightly...
and placing a kiss upon his horns.
Malleus let out a sudden high-pitched "urgh!" of surprise, his tail squeezing your waist slightly. Your eyebrows raised in shock, pulling away to look at your now flushed lover, feeling a bit of...excitement from down below. He suddenly removed his tail from your waist and seemed to want to move away from you, until you pushed your body on top of his own, straddling his waist and feeling his arousal between your thighs.
"I-i'm-" He gulped and let out a low moan, his hands shaking hesitantly mid air, not certain where he should place them, "I'm sorry- this is incredibly unbecoming of a king-" You hushed him with a rushed kiss and shook your head, the kiss lasting only a moment prior to you pulling away face as flushed as his and forehead pressed against his own.
"It's natural," You comforted him, "Do you...like it when I touch your horns, Mal...?" You hesitated your inquiry, his response a simple and slow nod giving you confidence to move your hands back to his horns and begin to rub them intimately. You felt his body twitch below you and his tail wrapped itself around your thigh, voice trembling. You hadn't seen the fae prince so shaken up before, so uncertain, so vulnerable. Only in front of you would he allow himself to lose such control.
"Are you...are you certain? I haven't any...experience," He muttered against the crook of your neck, arms wrapping around your body and hugging you tightly as if to console himself.
"It's okay," you murmured, hands removing themselves from his horns much to his whining displeasure of the sudden warmth disappearing from them, before shuddering once more as your attention shifted to his tail. Your finger trailed the scales and you felt him twitch between your thighs through his pants as his excitement stirred with every touch you placed upon his extremities.
"I...want it too," You purred.
Malleus's desire gauge was now at 100%
and you had no idea what you had just gotten yourself into.
~~~~
Masterlist
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tsireyasluvr · 5 months
Text
Sweetness
Lo’ak x Metkayina!reader
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Authors note: I meant to make this short and sweet but got way carried away😭 hope you guys enjoy this tho! <3 word count: 4k+
Summary: Neteyams death inevitably changed Lo’ak, making him colder and harsher around you than ever before. He shut everyone around him out, but you being the sweet and soft girl of the village made you want to help him get out of his slump. And you did help, just not in the way you might’ve expected.
Warnings: 18+, MDNI, porn with plot, angst, comfort, mentions of death, mentions of blood, substance use, alcohol, aged up Lo’ak, dom Lo’ak, mean Lo’ak, innocent reader, praises, brief oral, fingering, drunk sex, grinding, whining, virgin reader, first time (p in v)
Lo’ak struggled with Neteyams death, that couldn’t be more clear to anyone. The entire Sully family had faced their struggles surrounding the older boy’s death, but they had slowly made peace with it. Lo’ak however, wasn’t even close.
He never got over the feeling of it being his fault. He’s the one who pushed Neteyam to save Spider, the one who couldn’t just let things sit and chase after his own family instead. He wanted to save his friend, and in return, he got his brother killed. Lo’ak felt like even more of a failure than before, like he deserved to be treated like an outcast after having his beloved older brother killed.
He’s chosen to ignore his family and friends, ditching his siblings to get drunk and wallow in his sorrows at whatever private place he could find. Really he wasn’t picky, just as long as people would stop bothering him already. He was sick of the looks he’d get from his own family, the bits of pity accompanied by disgust from the rest of the Metkayina clan. 
Never you though. You cared for him, and truth be told you had a bit of a reputation around the clan for being the soft and kind, almost “innocent” cousin of Tsireya and Ao’nung. You were opposite to Lo’ak, never really one to step out of line or do anything that might anger the elders. you didn’t see much of a reason to. You’ve always had a soft spot for the younger Sully boy, mesmerized by how quick he adapted to the way of water, how much effort he put in despite his body not being built for it. He was passionate, rebellious by nature sure, but you’d be lying if you said you hadn’t found it charming. And as his learning went on, you enjoyed occasionally helping to teach him and his siblings, especially when you got to have a few private sessions with him. You were building a friendship, maybe even a small crush arising within you. All right before the tragic death on those rocks. 
You’d see Lo’ak wandering around the village at times, but only really to get his hands on food and whatever alcohol he could get, before he’d disappear again. Into the palm trees, to a separated beach, maybe a clearing near a cave. Those were just a few of your guesses. 
It bothered you. He was once a fiery, determined ball of energy, never taking anyone’s shit and trusting himself to do what felt right. Yet now, he was always alone and hiding. You couldn’t help but frown and worry. So one night, you see him again, walking through the sand in the general direction of what you assumed was the cove, a bottle clearly in hand. Feeling a little brave, you decided to follow him. 
Lo’ak had sat down on a smooth stone ledge overlooking the water. The sun had already set, making your tanhi glow along your soft skin while the moon lit up the scene around you. You timidly walked over to him, sitting down beside him but a little further from the edge with your legs crossed. Neteyam and Lo’ak were the only ones you’ve ever told about your fear of heights. It was something you always thought was a little embarrassing, and they forced the confession out of you when you refused to join them on a ride on Neteyams ikran. You can’t help but feel a little guilty passing that up now. 
Lo’aks gaze was cold, his face showing little emotion while he started out into the water. His eyes had been bloodshot, from the alcohol or lack of sleep you didn’t know, but it was a sight that made your stomach churn either way. You glanced down to his lap, seeing the now half-empty bottle sat between his legs. 
His thoughts were looming over his head, the alcohol doing little to settle the pit in his stomach. That night was all he could ever think about. The pained scream of his mother, the hurtful “you’ve done enough” his father had muttered, feeling Neteyams heart stop beating underneath his palms, his hands wet with his brothers blood-
“Lo’ak?” Your quiet, velvety soft voice broke the silence. You looked up at him with your big green eyes, your lip permanently a little pouty as the cold breeze blew through your curly hair. “Hm?” He grunted, not really looking in your directed as he took another swig from the bottle. You swallowed thickly, before asking your question. 
“Can I stay for a little?” Your voice sounds almost nervous, like he’d snap or bite at you if you pissed him off. He couldn’t help but feel frustrated at this, taking a deep breath to settle his emotions. He turned to look at you, his vivid amber eyes faded into something more dull. “Actually, y/n, I kind of came here to be alone.” 
You huffed out a breath, trying not to let the rejection get to you once he turns away again. Instead, you sit a little closer, letting your feet dangle off the edge as your heart starts racing in your chest. He cocked a brow at this, surprised that the village good girl didn’t listen for once. That, and the fact that he knew how scared you were of heights. Wether he’d want to admit it or not, Lo’ak had always noticed you tried to make everything better, even when it seemed impossible.
“People are worried, you know” You say quietly, your voice less shaky now that you managed to calm your heartbeat, trying to focus on him and the sound of the waves rather than how high you were up on these cliffs. “I don’t care, y/n” He scoffed, sipping on the bottle again, hardly feeling the liquid burn his throat anymore. 
You furrowed your brows at that, looking at the side of his face again as you spoke. “I know that’s not true, Lo’ak. You’ve never been careless. I understand you’re hurting, you have every right to, but-“ 
He cut you off with a scowl, turning his head towards you “Oh, do i? Because according to my father, I’m the one who got us all into this mess. You say everyone is worried, but who exactly is everyone, y/n? Because it sure as hell isn’t my family, and your clan has hated me from the fucking start.” He practically snarled, his eyes narrowing as he looked down at you.
You looked at him helplessly, feeling yet another tinge of anxiety from his yelling, but knowing deep down it wasn’t meant to be directed at you. Lo’ak stood from his spot, rubbing his face with his hand, and that’s when you smell the wave of alcohol coming from his form. 
“Just.. just go away, y/n. I really don’t need this right now” He leaned against the cliff wall, his arms crossing in front of his chest as he waited for you to get up and go. 
You stood, trying to fight back the tears welling in your eyes. Truth be told, you weren’t really used to having anyone yell at you. You’ve never stepped out of line or disobeyed orders, no one’s ever had a reason to try and punish or intimidate you. You wondered if it may have you come across as weak, or fragile. Two things that you very much were not, regardless of how soft you may be. 
“Lo’ak, please” You say, trying to stand your ground. “Please just let me stay. I won’t- I won’t try to force you to talk about it anymore, I promise. I’m just worried about you” You pleaded, the breeze becoming more harsh as you felt shivers go up your arms.
He clenched his jaw, something inside him stopping himself from believing that you had good intentions. “why?” He uncrossed his arms, scoffing as he stood up straight in front of you. “Why are you so fucking worried, y/n?” His voice sounded almost taunting, and you couldn’t figure out why.
“Because you’re never around the village anymore. You’re grieving, and I think-“ He cut you off once again.
“What? That you can fix me? Take me on a special project for your healer training maybe? You realize some herbs and spices can’t make this all go away, right? Sorry I can’t help you crawl further up Ronals ass with your little strive for perfection, y/n, but it just so looks like I’m a problem this clan can’t shake” He growls, every word feeling almost like a dagger to your heart. 
“You’re not a problem, Lo’ak” You say gently, trying to keep the calm attitude for him. “I don’t see you as one, I never have. I see so much greatness in you-“ 
“Save the fucking speech, y/n-“
“Will you just let me talk!” 
“…”
You had snapped, tears freely falling down your cheeks now. “Stop treating me like I don’t have feelings! Or like- like you don’t know me! We were friends before all this, you know how much I cared for you, how much i still care for you. It doesn’t matter if every single person in this clan hated you, I care and I worry! And it sucks to see you like this, constant bottle in your hand and the energy and joy completely sucked out of you. It sucks that you walk by me like I don’t matter, that you never talk to me anymore and that you’re always on something. I can’t handle it, and it breaks my heart, so excuse me if I come here to check on you because Im worried!”  
He swallowed hard, taking aback by your outburst but trying not to show it. He felt the guilt slowly creep up his skin, watching your shoulders shake with sobs as you let out a much quieter “I worry”, repeating yourself so helplessly. Lo’aks eyes flicked away for a moment before returning to yours. “You shouldn’t” He muttered out, his voice rough as he reached out a hand to wipe the tears from your cheeks.
“I can’t help it” You whisper, sniffling as your lip quivered, your eyes now glossy as you looked up at him. His hand on your cheek made you feel the tiniest spark of comfort. He smiled a little at that, the first almost warm expression you’ve seen on his face in weeks if not months. “Hm, I guess you can’t.”
Lo’ak cupped your face with his free hand, the other still holding the bottle you so desperately wanted to grab and throw over the cliff. He brushed his thumb softly against your cheek, looking into your teary eyes as his heart beat faster. “If you keep getting involved with me like this, you’re going to get hurt, y/n. I think I might have a bit of curse on me” He tried to joke, but you saw past the slight smile.
“Then we’ll let that be my lesson” you say sternly, reaching a delicate hand to hold onto his wrist as you stayed close to him. “Alright, fine. You win, princess” He sighed, before letting go of you and moving back down to where he was sitting, looking back at you as an unspoken invitation to join him. 
you padded over to where he was, shivering slightly as the night wore on, the stone cold against your skin. His eyes were on you, seeing the shiver on your skin from the cold as you tugged a little on the sheer sleeves from the woven top you wore. 
“You cold?” He asked, observing your shivering form. You looked at him, shrugging a little, trying not to seem needy or like you were disturbing the newfound peace. He smirked a little, offering you the nearly empty bottle. 
You made a face at that. “No thanks. I’m not much for drinking” you look back down at your lap, fiddling with the little pearls hanging from your loincloth. 
“Have you ever tried it?” He asked, not necessarily pushing, but definitely holding a teasing tone over you. You shook your head no.
He leaned back, snickering a little bit as he closed his eyes, enjoying the breeze on his flushed skin. “Fuck..” He muttered under his breath, opening his eyes to quickly look at you before focusing back on the water beneath them.
“what?” you ask, furrowing your brows in slight confusion. “you’re just so fucking innocent. Like, shielded or something” He smirked, shaking his head slightly. You scoffed a little at that, your lips pouty again. “what, so now i’m not interesting because I haven’t had any messed up traumatic stories?” you crossed your arms as you looked at him. 
“Never said that” He replied, still not looking at you. “Then what are you trying to imply with that?” He licked his teeth before looking at you with another smirk, his fangs momentarily on display. “You’re too trusting. Always looking out for everyone else’s well-being before your own. You walk around like some sort of Angel, y/n.” He used a human term, something he did often. You knew one of the few things he bonded over with his dad was studying the language. 
“You say that like it’s an insult” You quip back, rubbing your arms for warmth. “Because it is.” He replied, eyes scanning over you. “You’re so naive sometimes that it hurts just looking at. Letting people walk all over you. You deserve better than everything that’s been surrounding us.” 
You tried not to let his words bother you, but he really could be so mean sometimes, wether it was intentional or not. Your eyes drift down to the bottle in his lap, feeling a sudden impulse within you as you reach out your hand for it. “give me that” 
“what?” he raised a brow, looking at you with a mix of surprise and amusement. “you want a drink?” 
“Yes, I do. Now are you gonna share or am I too innocent for even a sip?” you say, your look unwavering. 
“Well then” He chuckled, passing the bottle over to you, his eyes never leaving yours. “Go on then. Take a sip.”
You continued holding eye contact with him as you bring the cold bottle to your plump, pink lips, taking a swig before grimacing at the taste, a drop trickling down your chin. “Eywa” you muttered under your breath, the liquid leaving a terrible burn down your throat.
“Fuck, you’re cute” He said, reaching out to wipe off the droplet and licking it off his thumb. A small smile played on his lips. “don’t ever get used to that shit”
“What? It’s totally fine! I hardly even tasted it” You try to assure, taking another sip before practically gagging as the liquid hit your tongue
“yeah, you’re a fucking liar” He laughed softly, reaching out to take the bottle back from you. “we should’ve gotten you something nicer as a first taste. I would’ve mixed it up with that coconut water shit you like” He screwed the lid back on after finishing off the last bit of the bottle. 
“you know, you swear a lot” you say, your voice a little more wavered now with the alcohol. He turned away from you, trying not to break into a grin at the slight slurring of your voice. “And alcohol is gross. I stand by what I said earlier” you say, crossing your arms as if to prove a point.
“Good” He replied, smiling at you as he turned his body more to face you, sitting a little closer as he felt the alcohol in his system too, allowing him to feel more comfortable and less of the constant dread and anxiety in his stomach. “Means you’re not used to it.”
“Course I’m not used to it! You said it yourself I’m all naive and innocent” you say in a mocking tone, rolling your eyes at that. He broke into another snicker at that. “you’re so fucking cute when you’re drunk” He whispered, chuckling softly as he leaned in closer to you, his breath fanning across your cheek. “You know, Ive always kinda wanted to see you like this”
You giggle a little, your cheeks flushing from both the alcohol and his comment. “what? drunk?” You ask, lazily tilting your head to look straight at him, your curls becoming messier from the breeze, a few stray pieces falling over your eyes. “Yeah” He laughed, brushing a lock of hair away from your blushing cheek. “mm sounds like you might have a bit of a corruption kink, Lo” you teased, surprising both of you with your unusually bold words.
“Maybe you’re not so wrong about that” He confessed, half joking before continuing “I guess I have a bit of a thing for girls like you. All sweet and gentle. Or more like.. just you” his face has gone a little more serious, looking over your features with an almost predatory gaze.
“and here I thought you were asking me to stay away” you lightly tease, acting like his words from earlier didn’t have an effect on you. “I did, and I meant it. You’re too good for me” He leaned down, his lips almost hovering above yours. “But it’s hard to stay true to that, when you’re sat all cute and flustered ‘cause of me”
Your breath hitches in your throat at the sudden close proximity, leaning in closer to him as you look up at him with that same wide-eyed look that drove him crazy, your lips plump and slightly wet from the alcohol still. “i’m tired of you pushing me away because you think it’s the right thing to do, Lo’ak. S’annoying” you drunkenly mumble, trying to keep yourself from getting too dizzy.
“Well, fuck.” He cursed under his breath, his eyes trailing down to your lips as he gave into the temptation. “maybe it’s time I stop pushing you away then” he whispered, before leaning down to capture your lips in a soft, gentle kiss. You smile against his lips, feeling your chest bubble with excitement as your dainty fingertips come to rest on his chest. 
You pulled back a little, a smile on your face as you leaned your forehead against his. “Am i making you feel better?” you ask, prompting him to let out a laugh. “that’s what you’re thinking about?” He teased, leaning in to give you another quick peck. “yeah, sweetness, you’re making me feel better” He murmured, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you closer to him, his other hand burying itself in your curls as he deepened the kiss.
“you taste so god damn sweet, y/n” he groaned, his tongue licking its way into your mouth, practically moaning at the flavour of your lips. You whimpered at his words, desperately trying to keep up with him, shifting til you’re practically in his lap. 
Reluctantly, he pulls away and breaks the kiss, gazing down at you with pure lust and adoration in his golden eyes. “You ever let anyone touch you?” he breathed out, his hand holding you close by the back of your neck, your palms still resting on his chest for stability as you shook your head no. “Good” He grinned, his fangs on display as he reached up your back to untie the strings holding your top together.
As he revealed more of your skin, his touch became more possessive and hungry. “i’m gonna make you feel so good, baby.” he growled against your skin, dipping his head down to lick and suck at your neck, tilting your jaw back with his hand to have better access. “you believe me?” 
“yes, Lo’ak” you breathed out, your skin feeling hot as you trailed a hand to fist his braided hair. “That’s my girl” he mumbled, his hand moving up to cup your breast, squeezing roughly at the flesh as you let out a whimper. “So fuckin perfect for me” 
You moaned softly at the praises, enjoying the feel of his hands on your body as you cup his face and bring his lips back up to yours, desperate to taste him again. He shoved his tongue in your mouth, his hand creeping down your back before untying the strings holding your loincloth together. “lift your hips for me, mama” he murmured against your lips, instantly taking it off and flinging it away once you did. He slowly slid his hand up your thigh, teasingly running his fingers through your folds before letting out a groan. “Eywa, you’re so wet for me”
you gasp softly at the feel of his fingers, leaning your forehead against his as he probed at your opening, before shoving two fingers in, drawing out a yelp from you. “Lo’ak!” you squeal, closing your eyes in pleasure. “fuck, do that again, sweet girl” he groaned, plunging his fingers in and out of you, desperate to hear more of your pretty noises.
you whined and clawed at his shoulders, not used to the feeling of someone else touching you there, soaking it all in as your walls fluttered against his digits. he curled his fingers inside you, watching you nearly unravel in front of him before adding his thumb to rub quick circles into your clit. “oh! Lo’ak! L-Lo! f-fuck!” he smirked as you cursed, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips. He thrusted his fingers deeper, pushing faster, seeking out your sweet spot before massaging it with every thrust. You whimpered when you felt his fingertips grazing the spongy spot inside you. 
 “that’s it mama. gonna cum for me?” He sucked a bruise in your neck, his fangs grazing the skin as he resisted the urge to properly mark you here and now. 
“y-yes! mhm!” You moaned, your pussy tightening around his fingers before you let go, crying out his name as you hide your face in his neck.
He slowly pulled his fingers out, shushing your whimpers before flipping you over, your bodies still dangerously close to the ledge, which suddenly just added to thrill of it for you. His breath was heavy as he leaned back down to kiss you, his arm resting on the ground beside your face, almost shielding you in while his other makes quick work to untie his cloth and throw is aside. You looked at him with a dazed expression, taking the time to admire his face and features, feeling your heart skip a beat when his eyes met yours again. 
He smiled down at you, brushing his thumb over your lip sweetly, but it seemed like you had other ideas. Your pink tongue darted out to lick the digit and take it in your mouth, making his dick instantly harder, if that was even possible. He groaned at the feeling, beginning to grind his hips against yours, his cock freely gliding through your folds. “Fuck, mama, you’re making it hard to think straight” he cursed, looking down at your wet pussy dripping slick all over him. 
“Then don’t” You whined, squirming slightly beneath him from the teasing, feeling your arousal grow as you looked up at him with a pleading expression. “Lo’ak, please.” You whispered, bringing your hands up to wrap around his neck, bringing him closer to you as you pressed sweet kisses along his face, a contrast to the sinful acts you were doing. 
Taking your pleas as a sign of consent, he lined himself up with your entrance, pushing in slowly as he let out a growl at your tightness. “Oh, fuck!” He groaned, his head dropping to rest on your shoulder. “fuck mama, you’re so tight. This pussy was made f’me” He pushed himself all the way in, lifting his head back up to look at your face, a hand reaching up to cup your cheek. you had a look of pure bliss on your face, your eyes screwed shut as you adjust to his size, unintentionally holding your breath.
“breathe for me, baby. breathe” He whispered, pressing a sloppy kiss to your cheek before he began to slowly rock his hips into yours. “Lo’ak” you whimpered, clawing at his shoulders. “I know. S’okay, i’ve got you.” he groaned, his voice low, making you feel more butterflies in your stomach as you listened to every word he spoke. “feels so good” you whine out, panting against his lips. He smiled at you, kissing you hotly before pulling away again, looking down to where you were connected.
He couldn’t help but moan at the sight, speeding up his thrusts as he rutted against you, watching your pussy clamp down on him. “Eywa, you’re such a sight” he grunted, looking up at your face as he pushed his cock deeper inside of you, watching your jaw drop out of pleasure. “gonna keep the mental image of you like this forever, princess. all fucked out like this, all ‘cause of me” He dipped his head back down to your neck, trailing kisses down your collarbones and lower, squeezing your breast with his hand while beginning to lap at it with his tongue.
you couldn’t respond, hardly thinking as he fucked every thought out of you, your back arching off the ground as you whined and moaned, clinging to him as he pounded into your pussy. His hands gripped your hips tightly, guiding your movements as he took clear control. “Taking it so well for me, sweet girl” 
He angled his hips in a way to hit your sweet spot again, letting go of your nipple with a pop as he moved to the other one, leaving light bite marks along it.
“L-Lo’ak, m’close” you whimper, your eyes still screwed shut as you feel his tongue licking and tracing at your breasts, your chest covered in bite marks. “yeah? let me feel it. cum f’me, cum all over me. be a good girl” he muttered the filth against your skin, trailing his tongue back up to your neck, his fangs grazing over it again as he planned out the spot to mark you. “wanna feel you shake against me, y/n. all around my dick. you won’t let me down, yeah?” He whispered in your ear, thrusting faster as he felt his abdomen tighten, knowing he was close but holding back til he got you there first.
“mm y-yes, yes Lo” you breathed out, whining and gasping as you felt your thighs shake, your pussy tightening around him before you reached your high, tightening your legs around his waist “ohhh fuuuuck!” you cry out, not caring about how loud you were being as he fucked you through it.
“shit! fuck, mama, where do you want it?” he strained, biting his bottom lip to try and hold back as his hips sputtered. you looked up at him, your lips swollen from his kisses and face slightly dewy as you open your mouth, indicating it for him. “Eywa, help me” he muttered, groaning at the implication as he traced your perfect lips with his finger before pressing a rough kiss to them. 
Once he was on the verge of climax, he quickly pulled out, cupping your face with a shaky hand as you sat up on your knees for him. He aligned his dick to rest on your lips as he pumped his cock, before throwing his head back and cumming in your mouth with a groan. His hand brushed through your hair, looking down at you before pulling his hips away from you and kneeling down with you, his free hand still cupping your cheek. He wiped the little dribble of his cum off your lip, smiling at you adoringly, whispering “so fucking pretty” before leaning in to kiss you again. 
you hum contently, smiling once he pulls away. you pressed a quick kiss to his cheek, making him let out a laugh at your sweetness even after doing something so filthy. “c’mere” he murmurs, leaning back against the cliff wall as he raises his arm for you. you crawl over, laying down on his chest and nuzzling into him with your face in his neck, closing your eyes as you listen to the sound of the waves below you. 
1K notes · View notes
mayhemories · 1 year
Note
Pregnancy baby trope baby daddy Neteyam x reader please
TELLING NETEYAM YOURE PREGNANT 😩😩😩😩😩😩
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Tsahik Always Knows
Oh my god!! Daddy Neyetam would be so sweet! Also, I'm sorry for the lack of posts, I've been studying overseas and this course is an intensive fieldwork unit so I have had like no time to think. Additionally, some of my tags are working and some are not - I'm so sorry if I miss out on tagging you!
Pairing: Neteyam Sully x Reader (James Cameron’s Avatar) 
Requested: Yes | No
Warnings: none. Vomit? Fluff? 
Words: 1.8k
Author’s Notes: 
Neteyam is 24, reader is 23, established relationship. AU where they never left the forest and Jake is still Olo’eyktan, Neteyam will take that mantle eventually,, happy-happy can’t read or write any more angst for real. 
Please note that the reader utilises she/her pronouns. If you’d prefer male or gender-neutral pronouns in fic I’m more than happy to repost a male or gn version of the story, otherwise include any pronoun preferences in the request box!
Tag List: @lilprettypetite @nyotamalfoy @weasleytwinwheezes @aonungs-tsahik @rainbowsocks @glitterandgoldfinds @bluealiensimp @melsunshine @ussoppl @wondxrgurll @luvlykrispy @myheartfollower @gloryavila
Read Below Cut:
You stared at the remnants of last night’s dinner on the floor. You had vomited, again. This had been happening in the mornings, on and off for the last few weeks. You did not feel sick, so why were you sick? 
Normally the vomit happened at home. Normally Neteyam had already left to tend to his duties. Normally you could clean it up and pretend like it never happened. 
The heat of your embarrassment swarmed over your neck and shoulders, sweeping up into your cheeks and ears. You knelt, frozen in place over the bile you had just produced. 
On Mo’at’s tent floor. 
She was practically, and legally, your grandmother, and had been since you were nineteen-years-old. But you never thought of her like that. She was your Tsahik, your teacher, your elder, your spiritual guide, healer of the Omaticaya. 
And you had vomited on her floor. 
Mo’at cleared her throat, sitting across from you, your shameful vomit between you. Tears welled in your eyes. This was the worst day of your life. 
“Well, luckily it was just you and me here, hm,” Mo’at said with an unusual lightness, a sweetness that was enough to spin you out of your own thoughts. 
“My Tsahik, I am so sorry I do not know-” 
“Don’t be stupid, how can you not know?” The typical biting Mo’at that you were familiar with came back, quickly. The woman leaned forward with a cloth, mopping up your watery bile like a dealdly secret to be kept between the Tsahik and her assistant.
Now, you really did not know what she meant. You sat up taller, finding a cloth to wipe your mouth clean, something tangible to hold onto. 
“My Tsahik, I promise you, I do not know what you think I know.” You whispered into the cloth at your mouth. Mo’at discarded her cloth that blotted your vomit into a wooden bowl. Some poor trainee will deal with it later. She squinted at you, taking you in. Harshly, she grabbed at your wrists, inspecting your palms, and your shaking, delicate fingers. 
She huffed as she held your wrist tightly in her left, her right hand poking at your cheek, breasts and thighs. “Hey!” you had enough of her prodding, as you pulled your wrist from her vice-like grip. 
“Lay down. Now.” The Tsahik made moves to push you back onto the woven mats on the floor. You were scared and confused and honestly, getting rather emotional. You were still reeling over the embarrassment the vomit caused you. More and more these days you found yourself crying over nothing, or getting easily embarsassed. 
You laid still, scared of Mo’at, and, scared of vomiting again. Flat on your back, you stared at the keen weavings of Mo’at’s medical tent. You hissed, looking down, Mo’at has placed a cold hollowed stone on your lower stomach, her ear pressed against it, she furrowed her brow bone. 
The elder woman jerked up once she was satisfied, discarding her stone instrument, she settled back into her seated position on the floor, you mirroring her. 
“Tsahik-” 
“You are with child, quite obviously.” Mo’at had cut you off, while simultaneously giving you news that ripped all the air from your lungs. 
Your mind was spinning. You were happy, you were sad, you were excited, you were embarrassed. How could you not see the signs within yourself? Obviously you and Neteyam mated often- 
Oh, Eywa. 
Neteyam. 
You were going to have to tell him. 
It was not like you both hadn’t spoken on the topic before, you knew you both wanted kids, a family. Additionally, children were expected, a future Olo'eyktan must be secured. 
But the two of you had not planned for it to happen so soon. You had been so careful, tonics and teas. God, Neteyam pulled out most of the time. 
Subconsciously one hand laid across your abdomen, the other covering your mouth. You felt your eyes struggling to focus on Mo’at, on anything really. You felt like a shell. A shell with a small shell inside. 
“How far along?” You whispered, normally you would scold yourself for your informality towards Mo’at, but you would give yourself a break just this once. 
“A month, maybe two. Nothing more, nothing less. You are not physically showing yet but you cannot be far away.” The rare gentleness from Mo’at rose its head once again. You were grateful for it. “Now, my lovely girl, go. Go collect yourself and tell my grandbaby that you’re having my great-grandbaby.” Mo’at said softly, helping you to your feet. 
You couldn’t remember the short walk from Mo’at’s tent to the home you shared with Neteyam. You felt as if you were on auto-pilot, blacking out and teleporting from place to place. You quickly sat on the side of your shared bed. Furs and gossamer blankets providing comfort to your shaking legs. Laying back, you stared at the gossamer canopy Neteyam had only recently erected above your bed, dangling your legs off the side. 
You rested your hands on your stomach, trying to etch into your memory what it felt like now, knowing that it will eventually swell with the growth of your baby. 
Neteyam’s baby. 
Realistically, you knew that Neteyam won’t be angry. Shocked? Maybe. But angry? Neteyam had never, ever been angry with you before. Emotionally? It was a different story, you imagined Neteyam being frustrated and screaming at you. You imagined him being disappointed. You imagined him packing his things and leaving. The passing thoughts alone were enough to put you on edge. 
Sighing aloud, you had a look at the water clock resting on the other side of the room, you still had a few hours before Neteyam was to return. You still had a few hours to pull yourself together and work out how you were going to spit it out. 
Neteyam ran his hands over his face, pulling up his ionar onto his forehead. His whole body burned from that flight. He had missed you today, not usually staying out on patrol this late, but the young recruits needed training, and Neteyam was always eager to please. But, he was a domestic man at heart, he loved being at home with you, loved pulling you to his chest, loved making whatever new thing you asked for. 
He loved nesting, he realised. Loved doing it with you. 
Striding from the Ikran keeper, Neteyam wanted nothing more than to see you. 
The warm lights of your home welcomed him, though when he peered through the gap in the curtain flap, all he saw was your anxious figure, pacing back and forth, muttering to yourself. The air was wrong, Neteyam had never really seen you like this. He watched quietly, confused as to how you had not scent him already, something was wrong with you and he would be damned if he did not find out what. 
“Oh Eywa, what am I supposed to say?” You prayed silently, wringing your wrists. You thought the pacing would bring you clarity, as it often provided your father-in-law. Yet you felt empty. And so unbearably full at the same time. In the few hours you had to wait for your mate you had come to love the little life growing in your womb.
You were so excited. You could hardly contain yourself. Neteyam would be the most perfect father. But as the night grew closer your brain started to pick itself apart. 
It was all too much. You fell to your knees in the middle of your home, letting the tears flow freely now. 
Neteyam did not let that stand for long. He quickly rushed in, picking you up and placing you in his lap. His strong arms snaking around your sobbing form. Your head quickly found is chest. He felt your hot tears streaming down your beautiful face and onto his skin. Neteyam hushed you, like he watched his mother do with his siblings, gently rocking you back and forth. It was so silent, save from your sobbing hiccups. Neteyam did not dare speak until you had stopped. 
“My love, what has happened?” He asked gently, pulling away to cup your delicate face in his large, calloused hands. His eyes found yours, and he could see something was creating great turmoil in the labyrinth of your complicated, intelligent mind. 
You sighed in response, shaking your head. Trying to find any courage at all. Knowing you have news that will change the course of someone’s life was not something you dealt with well. Maybe you were not cut out to be the clan’s spiritual leader as Tsahik. But that was a different problem for a different day. 
Neteyam placed a chaste kiss to your lips, then your cheeks, under your eyes, the tip of your nose, your forehead. You were loved, he said through the gesture. You are safe here. 
“Neteyam,” You started, softly. You were always softspoken. Something of which drove Neteyam crazy in love with you. So gentile, so docile, so calm. “I have something to tell you.” Neteyam’s stomach started to flip at your words, anxiety settling in, but like any good soldier, he willed his face into a blank expression. Giving nothing away. 
And, in turn, giving you nothing. 
“Continue my little love.” He said, putting your baby hairs behind your ears, smoothing your loose hair down as you spoke. 
“Neteyam,” You cleared your throat, forcing that invisible, metaphysical bubble away. “I am with child.” The words hung in the air between you, and all you could do was wait for your mate to respond.
Neteyam felt like he was dreaming. Of all the things he prepared for you to say, you being pregnant was not one of them. 
His tail betrayed him before his mouth did. Rapidly going side to side, the smile that erupted on Neteyam’s face threatened to split his jaw apart. 
You were carrying a baby. His baby. Your baby, together, with him. 
You melted into Neteyam’s searing kiss as he held you flush to his body. Pulling apart, Neteyam’s hands rested on your stomach, bright eyed and smily. He kissed your stomach over and over and over again. Peppering the whole area with his hot lips. You giggled at him. He was perfect. 
“Oh (y/n), I am so happy.” Neteyam kissed you again, your giggles erupting between kisses as he could not decide on what he wanted to look at, your face or your stomach. “How long have you known, sweetheart?” He rested his forehead on yours, his hands resting on your still flat stomach. 
“I found out earlier today.” You couldn’t help but smile. “Your grandmother knew.” 
Neteyam laughed, his shoulders shaking, beads of his braids clinking together. 
“She knows everything.” 
That night as the two of you laid in bed, Neteyam spooning you, you rose out of your slumber briefly. Neteyam’s tail had wrapped itself around your thigh, your own tail sat under your abdomen of its own accord. Neteyam’s fingers splayed over your stomach. He was so protective already. So in love with you and your unborn baby. 
You smiled. Shutting your eyes you thanked Eywa for gifting you with something so precious. 
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