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moonstruckme · 3 days

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have a bonfire - send a character + a trope (one bed, fake dating, etc.) and I’ll write a drabble

AHHHHH CONGRATS CONGRATS CONGRATS

how about like secret royalty, like very princess diaries-esque, with sirius???? he's basically royalty anyway, so either him or reader suddenly entering his world would be so cute

Thanks lovely <3

prince!Sirius x princess!reader ♡ 1.2k words

With the early arrival of the visiting king, the uproar the palace (You’re actually not sure what you’re supposed to call this place. Castle? Mansion? Home? (You really hope you’re not supposed to call it home, that seems awfully quick.)) has been in since your arrival triples in severity. Your grandmother completely disappears, the nice older man who’s been showing you around goes with her, and when no one wants to take on the problem of the new and completely untrained princess, you’re shooed into the nearest sitting room to wait things out.

“Well, this has to have been a mistake.”

You give a start, turning in place to find a young man stretched out like a cat on a settee by the window. He has longish, dark hair that spills like ink over the green upholstery and cunning eyes that are narrowed curiously on you despite his disinterested countenance.

“Or I suppose maybe your team’s just stashed you here the same way my father’s stashed me,” he says, and the voice that emerges from that small, pretty mouth is just as smooth he looks like it would be, self-assured and infused with an accent that speaks to a privileged upbringing. “I don’t imagine they’d like knowing their new pet is cavorting with her equals so early on.” An untrustworthy smile curves his lips. “Could be fun. Should we ring for food?”

You have half a dozen questions, but what makes it out is, “Pet?”

The boy tilts his head, giving you a knowing look. “You’re an unhousebroken puppy, sweetheart.” His eyes dip to the dress they’d put you in this morning, skimming their way back up to your face and leaving goosebumps in their wake. “A very pretty one, but as far as royals are concerned, an embarrassment. From what I hear, that’s hardly your fault, though.”

You sit a cautious distance away from him, on a parallel couch. The afternoon sunlight spills over the top of his settee and hits your eyes, but you bear it rather than move.

A week ago, a couple of days even, you wouldn’t have been able to make eye contact with someone like this. But though this boy is prettier and speaks more brashly than nearly anyone you’ve come across, you’ve grown remarkably used to novelty since being sat down in front of relatives you didn’t know to be told that you were heir to a country you’d never heard of. One upside to the chaos of the last few days is, you suppose, it might be making you braver.

“Who are you?” you ask.

“Oh, my god.” He smiles, seemingly delighted. “You really are brand new, aren’t you? I’m not trying to sound arrogant,” he says at your flustered look, “it’s just we’re usually trained to know important people before we ever meet them. It’s not every day I come upon someone who actually has no idea who I am.”

A little laugh trips off your tongue. You tell him, “You’re not making your not-arrogant point very well.”

“Well, I never said I wasn’t arrogant.” That dastardly grin again, slicing across his face like a weapon. “I said I didn’t want to sound arrogant. I’ve been told it doesn’t make a very polite first impression.” He stands, graceful limbs unfurling, and starts for the door. “I’m Sirius. Are you hungry?”

You nod dazedly as he crosses the room, and it’s only then that you realize he’s wearing a suit. Or, parts of one. The jacket and tie have been cast off, hung over the arm of the settee, but he’s still wearing the pants (thank god) and a dress shirt that appears blue in the light but otherwise is so dark it might be black.

Sirius opens the door, murmuring to someone outside. When he’s done, he heads for you instead of the settee. Kicks his shoes off and settles in across from you, legs crossed underneath him like you’re at a sleepover. You decide to follow suit, turning to face him and trusting the length of your dress to protect you from scandal as you tent your knees in front of you.

“That’s better,” Sirius says, and his eyes look different with the light cutting across them. Before, they’d been in shadow, but now they’re the color of heavy clouds, a faint bluish hue brought out by his dress shirt. “You looked stunning with the light on your face, but you’re even lovelier when you’re not squinting. I asked for someone to bring us chicken nuggets, is that alright? You’re not vegetarian, are you?”

You’re surprised at the choice, but that quickly gives way to relief. You feel a smile tugging at your lips at the banal normalcy of it. After the five-course dinner you’d had the night before that had tormented your unrefined stomach for hours afterwards, chicken nuggets sound like a dream.

“That’s good,” you reply, and Sirius returns your smile with feeling. “Who were you talking to out there?”

“A member of my detail is just outside the door,” he explains airily, as if security details are something everyone has and talks about on a routine basis. Your astonishment must show on your face, because he raises a slender eyebrow. “You don’t have one? I suppose not every kingdom does. Or, if you haven’t left the palace, you might not have met yours yet.”

“You said your name was Sirius.”

“I did.”

“But you didn’t say your last name.”

Sirius’ lips twist wryly. “I did not.”

Maybe it’s his own audacious manner, but you feel like you can be straightforward with him. “Why not?”

He shrugs and lists sideways, leaning his shoulder against the back of the couch. “Maybe I’m still enjoying the novelty of you. I don’t often get to talk to people without all the genteel manners and button-up-ed-ness.”

You tilt your head. “You’re one of the Black family, aren’t you?”

Sirius nods, looking unsurprised you’ve figured it out. It’s obvious he’s royal, so it really wasn’t that far a leap. He doesn’t look like any of the family you’ve met so far, and the only other royals are the ones visiting.

“So does that make you the king’s son?”

“There are two of us, actually.” He mirrors you, tilting his head so it’s resting against the couch. “But I’m the oldest, so I get to go on all the fun trips.”

You feel your lips twist again. “Yeah, you seem like you’re having a blast.”

“Oh, let there be no misunderstanding, doll.” He straightens, looking you in the eye. It feels like being under a spotlight, and it’s all you can do not to look away. Sirius grins. “This is my fun face. I’m having a far better time with you than I have at any of these things in years.”

“Oh.” You can’t help it now, and your gaze flees down to the skirt of your dress. You take a bit of the fabric between your fingers, distracting yourself with the extraordinary silkiness of it. “Well, happy to help. Maybe while your family is here our paths will cross again.”

You look up, and his expression has softened into something nearing genuine. “I’ll be sure that they do,” he says.

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empty-vessel-of-a-person · 2 days

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My Final Thoughts about Love and Deepspace Heartwork Routine Event.

P.S. This is Just My Opinion. No need to go ballistic against me. This are just my thoughts and general feedback about the event.

Zayne:

Out of all 3 Stories, his version is the only one that looks planed and feels totally like a date.

He make sure that you can swim, Less worry about hurting yourself.

He make sure to clear up his schedule to be with you.

He wants to prevent you from getting sick so he use his evol twice. First, to steady the boat. Second to freeze the fountain. By doing so, he achieved not only preventing getting you more wet, but you your were mesmerized by the ice fountain. Talked about hitting 2 birds in one stone.

When you are with him, he doesn't like anyone talking to you and wants all your attention. (The Look he gave the staff at the rowing event and when you are about to shake Dr. Stevens hands *Exclusive Tutorial* he grabs your hands and led you away)

He make sure you do not fall into water by steadying the boat before you hop out. You are a hunter, I'm sure you can handle a shaky boat but he still treats you like a princess. (And I am so loving it!!!!)

Xavier:

he doesn't even want to do the Heartwork Routine Event. It's kinda bummer. Imagine knowing you are invited to an event just to find out it was done on a whim? Who wrote this plot exactly? Trusting Xavier's personality, he will never did this to you. No matter how long it gets (800 years) he still remembers everything about you.

Rather than enjoying this event with Xavier, you ended up being confused and anxious all the time. This is actually one of the traits I don't like a bout him. True that It might freak you out if you found out about him, but come on! its irritating to get vague and shorts answer all the time. I hope he can be more honest in the future.

Xavier doesn't like to do what has been told him to do or rather walk on the path laid out for him. He always wants to do his own thing this also shows on the last part of the event. You two aren't even get to finish the event.

To all the Xavier girlies, I really do admire your heart and strength to be able to keep up with him. It's not easy for me to take the path less traveled, but you are strong and willing to venture the unknown just to be with him. That's true love right there.

Loving Xavier is also embracing the fact you may always not get answer from him and there will always be a lot of secrets.

In the end, I kinda feel anxious than relax.

Rafayel

Was this really a date with him or are we playing nanny for a teenage boy?

To me Rafayel has always been a bestfriend. And this is exactly how I feel about him on this event as well.

Just like Xavier, he doesn't want to participate in the event. Especially when the bike is involve.

He indeed prepare for the event, but it is all for him. Doesn't bring you elbow or kneepads.

He never ones asks if you are okay in the 2 times you two fall. And the second crash seems like not a joke. Flowers maybe soft but it's not a perfect cushion for a fall.

Honestly, what happened to Rafayel here. I get that he is dismissive sometimes, but for some one who waits for you in so many years and has been clingy from the start, he has not been so clingy lately.

By the way he kick you of the cliff (God of Tides Myth) and I simply do not like that. Infold what are you doing with Raf?

Conclusion:

Zayne has been the saving grace of this event or at least on my part. It seems that Zayne isn't driven the past to be with you. I kinda feel he still have a few memories the alternate lifetime, but he is living in the moment and doing his best to protect you.

I guess infold did listen to international players and they making up for it. But geez, don't make Xavier and Rafayel look bad. I hope that create separate team for each boys to ensure the quality of their stories and memories.

I am definitely a Zayne girlie but Xavier and Rafayel are close to my heart. I do not particularly follows the 2 all the time but I care about them as well.

#zayne #xavier #rafayel #love and deepspace #zayne love and deepspace #xavier love and deepspace #rafayel love and deepspace

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wherela · 1 year

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they should invent a friend for me who doesn't randomly stop talking to me for no reason

#my best friend. MY. BEST. FRIEND.#has been ignoring me since yesterday #and i just.... honestly i feel like giving up at this point #this is about the 5th time this has happened to me in my life AND I AM SO SICK OF IT #am i doing sth wrong????#are all the people around me just assholes????#i know that this won't go on forever and that she will get back to me at some point and explain (hopefully)#but oh gosh i am not okay #like maybe i wouldn't be reacting this way if this wasn't the X time I'm re-living this whole situation #in primary school i had an entire friend group just decide to hate me IN ONE DAY #and then in high school one of my closest friends also just started treating me like she hates me #so then all my friends just followed her lead #then last year a friend (whom i only saw every couple of months) avoided me at our mutual friends wedding #and then didn't invite me to her own wedding a few months later (she too was one of my closest and longest friends)#and then there's S #but then again at least he explained so I know this situation was not really my fault #and now this??????#i swear i have been fighting tooth and nail to continue to be caring and wear my heart on my sleeve #and BY THE GRACE OF GOD i am still able to be so #but oh gosh oh goodness this is hard #mine #personal

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that-was-anticlimactic · 25 days

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one of the worst feelings ever is wanting to write but your hands hurt too much or the words just don’t want to work so you just sit there staring at a half finished doc with tears in your eyes bc you want to write and you need to write but everything is telling you that you can’t

#and that you’re a terrible writer and that no one cares aaaaaaand imposter syndrome kicks in and you just feel like crap #bc all your friends have been wriying recejtky so why can’t you??? cause they’re bETTER THAN YOU #lol idk why my head is so bad today #the feelings of inferiority and emptiness and idk worthlessness are strong and i hate it but i can’t stop it #i just wanna write!!! and like what i write!!!#but i Can’t and i haven’t liked anything i’ve written in Months and ugh i hate not being able to d something i wanna do #oh and now i’m crying??? why the frick am i cRYING litetally why is typing this making me Worse #sorry guys needed to rant #the inadequacy was strong today #something something students keep telling me how much they dislike me or how i’m whiny for asking them to be respectful and like #i Know i shouldn’t compare myself to my friends but gosh it’s hard when they’re all like. so much better than me.#and i don’t have a lot of time to be on tumblr bc of work so i just feel like i’m watching everything from afar and it’s no one’s fault but #my brain’s like no one is Doing anything it’s just my brain being dumb and i can’t stand it and I want to stop feeling empty and like i’m #missing a part of myself and like the words i write don’t matter gOD why can’t i just feel happy with where i am and not care what the kids #who hate me say or realize that no one cares that i’m not on much like i’m still Here and trying to interact it’s not like everyone hates me #for being busy or for liking side characters more than the main characters and just—#sorry #that felt good actually #idk what came over me #imma just. imma shower. then maybe delete my tags #sorry if anyone got this far aT ALL grace is either asleep or trying to sleep so i don’t wanna bother them since they slept poorly last nigh #okay done now for real sorry delete tags later sorry if you saw this and how freaking messed up ky freaking brain is

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paegei · 3 months

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MOANER, GROANER, OR WHIMPERER ?

what sounds do the seventeen members make in bed ?

NSFW CONTENT ! MDNI !

a/n: GUYS i am so sorry i haven't written in so long ╯︿╰ i lose motivation for things VERY easily. anywho,,, if anyone has any requests or anything feel free to send them in ! ( just be prepared for me to take my time to respond ϵ( ‘Θ’ )϶ )

MOANER:

jeonghan:

when i tell you this man has the PRETTIEST moans i mean it. borderline angelic. every noise that comes out of his mouth has you on the verge of orgasm LITERALLY. he's upstaging you i'm sorry !

joshua:

the things i would do to hear him moaning.... 28:50 of the youngji interview is EMBEDDED in my brain. def more on the quiet side, his moans are pretty low in volume, but he is for SURE right next to your ear cuz he knows how much his moans affect you.

jun:

pathetic moans. PATHETIC. loud, whiny, GUTTURAL moans. he also has no shame. and i mean that. does not care how loud he's being. he has to let you know how good you make him feel, who cares about who hears ? also def makes those ah- ah- ah- sounds before he cums

minghao:

hao's moans are like josh's, low in volume but close enough for you to hear. gives me the vibes of someone who doesn't make much noise in bed, he prefers to focus on your blabbering, but when his sounds grace your ears, it is HEAVENLY. ( his moans are borderline whimpers too just saying )

seungkwan:

DEEP. DEEP. SO DEEP. yk that one good to me performance where he said "make some noise" in his deep ass voice ? yeah, that's his tone in bed. moans coming straight from the chest LAWDDDDDD. was pretty shy at first when it came to making noise, but after seeing how badly it affected you ( because who wouldn't go insane hearing them ), he just goes AT IT. unless he's in sub mode and is borderline sobbing

GROANER:

seungcheol:

bro. words could not describe how hot this man sounds ( i would know we're actually married ). GUTTERAL groaning. genuinely sounds like he is working out ＞︿＜ lets out a groan every time he pulls out, followed by a whimper when he shoves his cock back in :/

wonwoo:

practically inaudible with how deep his groans are. all you would be able to hear is this deep grumble. rarely likes making sounds in bed as he prefers to be all ears for your moans, but hey, sometimes good sex makes a man whimper okay there's nothing wrong with that :3

vernon:

kinda like jun, in the aspect that his groans have a pathetic tilt to them. every sound he makes, no matter how hard he tries to keep them in, just ends up sounding absolutely RUINED. im talking you'd think he was crying from how desperate he sounds ( maybe he is who knows ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ )

chan:

he's right on the barrier between groans and gasps. OMLLLL HIS LITTLE GASP WHEN HE FIRST SLIPS IN !!!!!!!!!!! no shame either he wants to let the whole world know he's getting the best pussy of his LIFE. anime girl ~gah~ kinda noises IM SORRY

WHIMPERER:

jihoon:

dooooont care what you think. he WHIMPERS !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! his whimpers are very low in volume however, he knows that if the guys ever found out the little noises he makes for you he would be a goner. tries his hardest to hold the whines back, much to your dismay, but at least then you get the gorgeous sight of him biting his lip till it bleeds (/▽＼)

seokmin:

man does not care how embarrassing his sounds are he NEEDS you to know how good you feel. he is the EPITONE of whimpers. men be afraid to moan in their girls ear, but seokmin is sobbing out "f-fuck oh m- oh my god- 's good, 's good-" and other barely audible curses :3

mingyu:

his whimpers are WET sorrynotsorry. im saying he's borderline drooling. dumb puppy can't help it if your cunt feels so good :( sobs, cries, just the most desperate and shaky words tumbling from his mouth ( if he can still form words is a different story ).

ALL OF THE ABOVE:

soonyoung:

does not give a FUCK what noise he is making, he's just going for it. somehow sounds like whimpers, cries and growls all in one ?? also yes 80% of the time he is growling but are we suprised. just says any word that comes to his mind too. bro does nawt understand why people hold in their moans... if it feels good, it feels good you know ?

not proof-read ! lmk if there's any mistakes (づ￣ 3￣)づ

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flokali · 8 months

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Hi i just went through your entire blog and now im having intense sagau zhongli brainrot hafjdjhdjexhsn imagine sagau zhongli worshiping fem readers chest for hours *dies*

(lying) I am so normal about boobs and Zhongli… but Anon I Am Thinking So Hard (TT) His hands are so big, his fingers are so long… with only one hand he’s able to cup your boobs (and if not then he does his best, just completely enthralled with the way some of your fat leaks from between his fingers and outside of the confines of his greedy hands) and just… squeezes while he uses his mouth on the other one, licking and kissing you until you’re sensitive from his textured (and forked) tongue… I am so okay and sane about this.

Pairing: Afab! Reader (heavily implied ; no mentions of anything other than boobs (size not specified)) x Zhongli!

Warning: Yandere, Sagau, God-like reader, cult-like behavior, obsessive and possessive thoughts, n//sft (not explicit), groping & kissing & sucking, chest/boob worship, reader is implied to be bedded by multiple characters, implied murderer (or willingness to commit), cocky Morax makes an appearance, forked tongue and cold blooded Zhongli nation rise; ask to tag!

Word Count: 2k

Zhongli’s hands are, unlike most people would be led to believe, slightly colder than the average being’s. Due to his connection to the Geo element and most natural stone’s cold temperatures, it isn’t surprising that beneath his gloves lay hands that felt smooth and chilly to the touch.

It was one of your initial observations when you first felt his un-gloved hand make contact with your own. It had taken a lot of sugary words of affirmation that he would not hurt nor taint you if he touched you with his bare hands, he’d convinced himself that you were as fragile as the carving made of crystals that’d he’d crafted, Zhongli had always feared that he may be still too much of a brute to handle you without breaking.

The feeling sent shivers up your spine, you wouldn’t quite know how to describe it, his touch was light as a feather but as imposing as the Archon’s presence, it was akin to the feeling of marble beneath bare feet, smooth and pleasant yet chilly.

His hands are also, much to no one’s surprise, slightly calloused, but not as much as you’d expect for a being once known as the God of War. The tip of his fingers were slightly thicker, as was the palm of his hand, probably from the way he gripped his weapon and the amount of times he found himself doing so. After millenia of wielding all manners of tools, it was impossible his hands didn’t tell the story as well.

Even so, his hands still managed to feel soft as they traveled across your skin. They glided across your body, up through your arms and across your collarbone; the ethereal touch leaves your skin tingling with desire and anticipation, eyes transfixed with the enchanting smile that graced Zhongli’s handsome features as he allowed his hands to wander across your bare skin, even though you were the one on the receiving end, it truly seemed as if Zhongli were the one enjoying it the most. His body relaxed, shoulders loosen, he looked at peace. His long hair let loose, his clothes replaced by silken robes that hung from his frame lazily, he was the picture of serenity and earthly bliss.

The first time you’d seen him he had been so terribly nervous, a sight completely unlike the one you’d come to know across your screen, his posture was stiff, his words felt rehearsed, and you were certain you heard a relieved sigh once he finished introducing himself; you’d later come to know it was due to a crumbling feeling of anxiety and fear of upsetting you. He may be one of the oldest of your acolytes but it was perhaps that very fact that weighed heavily on his shoulders, he had to be the best, the most knowledgeable, the most befitting servant of a deity such as yourself.

To be completely honest, had you not experienced the absolute madness that it was to be sent into a world you’d once thought fictitious and later been told you were a deity revered by the Gods of this world themselves, the mere thought of a man like Zhongli, a being who’d witnessed millenia pass him, who’d met Gods of times long since gone, nervously reciting a greeting in the mirror in preparation of meeting the likes of you would have been a comedy like no other.

However, many moon cycles had now passed and you’d learned that not only had you unknowingly become a God in a world you’d once played with but that Zhongli, the man in front of you right now, was perhaps one of your biggest devotees.

And prove his devotion he shall.

It’d become a ritual for certain acolytes, the ones of age and who bore a Vision, to engage in more physical forms of worship now that you resided with them in the same physical plane. Not all of them took part in the process, some believing it to be sacrilegious to even so much as think of you in such a lewd manner, but the ones who did fought tooth and nail to be allowed a fraction of your time and grace.

Tonight, as you lay in one of Liyue Harbor’s most exquisite hotels, it was Zhongli’s turn.

Every “worshiping session” he’d dedicate himself to a new part of your body and tonight’s focus was on your chest.

He’d been so careful in peeling off your garments, making sure not to be too rough – as in his excited state he’d sometimes miscalculate his own strength – or too hasty, wanting to savor the moment your breasts finally revealed themselves to his greedy eyes.

Once they finally are free, he lowers his hands to cup one in each, allowing himself to play with them, all while squeezing and pinching at the fat until the skin turns sensitive, he was never rough, never trying to hurt you, but he couldn’t help the thoughts of simply digging his nails a little deeper to leave a more lasting mark for the next “follower” of yours to find. However, the thought of your pained whines managed to reel him in, for now.

While he uses his hands to massage the general area, his thumbs come and lay above your nipples, making sure to circle the areola, allowing your breasts to process the touch and slowly harden your nipples without him touching them directly. He lets the tip of his fingers trace the spot, teasingly hovering them above your perked nipples before going back to knead your breasts.

You’re panting ever so slightly, the feeling of your breasts being used in such a way sends small waves of pleasure straight into your clit, it leaves you trying desperately to create some sort of friction between your legs. The man above you notices and chuckles, finally giving in to your soft movements of desperation and allowing himself to play with your nipples properly. He takes the hardening nub in between his thumb and index, slowly pinching and pulling at the skin, rubbing your other breasts as lewdly gropes the fat.

“Mhmm…” You whine, bucking your chest into his hands in an attempt to incite more. You bring your hands to meet his own and start instructing them into squeezing your chest tighter and faster, switching between tugging and pinching, kneading and softly-scratching.

“Mh’m, like that?” He chuckles, allowing himself to be guided, only applying pressure every once in a while, teasing your desperate behavior.

“Do more,” you mumble between soft pants, he’s teasing you - purposefully setting a slow pace that has you wanting more - so you decide that the only logical way to get him to stop is by teasing him back, in such a way that he has no choice but to give in and finally drop his frustrating game, “I know you’re better than this, Morax.”

“… Oh?” His expression turns into one of shock and later amusement, almost taken off guard at your words; but he knows His Idol, he knows how much you enjoy playing with him, riling him up until he loses his restraint and gives into his more primal desires.

His eyes darken, his eyelids fluttering and eyebrows turning in amusement, a grin – no, smirk – more akin to that of his younger self takes over, while his golden eyes seem to take an unnatural glow. He leans forward, fully engulfing your body with his own, until his head meets your breasts and you can feel his hot breath against your skin.

“I wouldn’t have thought your excellency to be so greedy,” he chuckles, the warmth he lets out makes you shiver, his hands trace the sides of your breasts while he begins to plant open kisses into your flesh, “mhm… ‘so needy, my love, have the others not been serving you as well as me?”

You groan as you feel him begin to suck at your tits, his tongue poking out and leaving glistening trails of his drool across your skin, it’s gentle, his forked-tongue barely touches your flesh but the ghost of its presence is enough to give you goosebumps.

Zhongli’s mouth occupied itself with your right breast as his hands worked on your left, while he playfully bit and kissed you he made sure to keep stimulating you as much as possible, his hands molded your skin, squeezing and caressing every bit of flesh his palm made contact with. His open-mouthed kisses slow down as he approaches your nipples, he takes his time - making sure to softly graze you with his sharp teeth, making sure to tease you as much as possible while never quite stopping.

Your eyes never once left his, it was overwhelming, as most things were with Zhongli, the pleasure paired with his intense gaze as he made sure to commit every expression of yours to memory would have made anybody flustered.

He laughs but it’s not mocking, his eyes glaze over while he makes a show of finally getting around to sucking on your perked up nipple, he stares at you - as if daring you to look away - while his lips finally latch onto that place you so desperately had wanted them, his cheeks are clearly flushed as he begins to flick at the nub with his tongue while sucking the spot.

Instinctively you arch your back but he quickly uses his own body to drag you down, he moves around a bit, as if trying to find the best position to latch onto you, desperately wanting to overtake your body and shield you from everything that wasn’t him.

His hand cups your breast even as he pulls away with a lewd “pop”, never letting your chest be without some form of stimulation, he licks at the areola, making sure to make a spectacle as his tongue travels across one breast to the other. He switches movement, kissing and sucking while still kneading and pulling. He’s never rough, never cruel in his touch, he’s always so delicate, making sure to treat you with the utmost care.

The feeling of his cool digits after having his warm breath on you is jarring but nevertheless pleasurable, you whine as your hands shoot up to cradle his hair, fingers finding their way onto his silky hair as you unconsciously pull him closer to your body.

He chokes on a moan, his eyes roll back slightly, if there was one thing Zhongli adored was the feeling of your hands pulling against his hair, it was one of those things he could never get enough of. The truth was that this session was fueled by his own selfish desires of being your most devoted lover, your only lover; if there was one thing in this universe he craved more than you was being the owner of the title of your beloved. He hoped that these special sessions between you two would prove that he truly was the only one worthy of such a title.

For who else could have you breaking so beautifully in their hands from pleasure alone? No one, he was the only being able to lure you into such earthly desires, he was sure of it.

His tongue on your nipple, playing with your beautiful body, his hands desperately gripping at your chest, all while he savored the proximity in which he was able to see you fall apart were blessing given to him and him alone, holy gifts from you to him, your ever so loyal servant, who dedicated his heart, soul, and body to you.

Even if you did not know how deeply the devotion he held for you went, you could tell from his aroused state, his never ending servitude, willing disposition, and obsession with pleasing you that you had, knowingly or not, enthralled a man who was now willing to do anything for you.

Just seeing you fall apart from him playing with your chest was enough to have him coming close to his peak, a ball of pleasure forming as he memorized the look of pleasure and bliss that took over your hazy features.

Your breathing is quick, your body feels hot and bothered, his touch is intoxicating, you want more of it and he wants more of you, you’re not able to even so much as forget who it is you’re with for everything he does is so clearly him; no one devoted themselves to you the same way Zhongli did and if there was such a person, he’d make sure to eliminate them before they became a problem.

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avocad1s · 2 months

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About the Creator: Favoritism - 2

Requested by: Multiple anonymous users

CW: None?

Characters Included: Lyney, Arlecchino, Pantalone, Furina, Wriothesley, Neuvillette, Venti, Zhongli, Nahida

Note: Long time no see! Hope you all enjoy something lots of people requested in my absence! 🙏 Also this is written before Arlecchino’s release. So there may be some OOC Harbingers lol

Part One

Arlecchino: “Their Grace has quite the sweet tooth. Naturally I don’t mind indulging them in the sweetest treats I can find. Spending time with Their Grace is not a privilege everyone enjoys… they constantly join my children and I for tea or just simple conversation… What’s with that look? Surely you don’t believe I would actually cause harm to them. No matter what you think of the Fatui, Her Majesty still reveres Their Grace. So naturally we would feel the same.”

Furina: “I always feared what Their Grace would think of me. I was pretending to be the Hydro Archon, I knew with just one look, they would know I wasn’t who I claimed. I thought I was ready to accept any form of punishment they deemed worthy. However when we first met, their benevolence really shined through. They really understood just how draining the past few decades were for me and even apologized for not being there…. Ehem! Anyways…! I actually have a tea party with Their Grace this afternoon! I must get the most exquisite confectioneries to suit their palate.”

Lyney: “So that’s what you wanted to ask! Well yes, there have been many times when Their Grace and I have been alone together.… and as the successor, I have to tend towards Their Grace in “Fathers” absence. Having any kind of relationship with them is very beneficial for the House of the Hearth, but them wanting to spend more time with me than with the Iudex or even Ms. Furina… well, I won’t complain one bit!”

Nahida: “My favorite thing to do with Their Grace is trading knowledge with them. Even with Irminsul, Their Grace knows bits of knowledge I’ve never heard before. They were here once before, back when all members of the Seven were still in contact with each other. I have no memory of that. So it’s only fair that I’m able to make memories of my own with Their Grace now right?”

Neuvillette: “Their Grace spends a lot of their time in Fontaine. As the Iudex and with no Archon ruling the nation, I have made it my personal responsibility to tend to their needs.… You are correct, Their Grace and I do spend quite a lot of time together, anytime I am free of my duties I always look forward to sharing a cup of water imported from Qiaoying Village and listening to whatever they wish to talk about.… Hm? No of course not. There is nothing I would deem as “too much work” when it comes to Their Grace.”

Pantalone: “There is no amount of mora I wouldn’t spend on Their Grace. No matter what they request, whether it be big or small, common or rare, I will always get it for them. Tell me Traveler, do you believe I am buying Their Grace’s attention? There are many people in Teyvat who have money, yet their gaze never leaves mine. It seems that obtaining a vision isn’t the only way to get favor from the Gods.”

Venti: “Hello there Traveler…! You were coming here to see Their Grace? Well, you just missed them! But worry not, I can sing you a song I just wrote about them! Oh…? You think that the Creator favors me? Well I’d rather it be me than any of the other Archons! All of Mondstadt believes that I’m just some bard who managed to capture Their Grace’s attention, but in reality I think I understand Their Grace better than anyone. Hehe…”

Wriothesley: “I never really expected to meet Their Eminence, but once they requested to enter the Fortress I made sure everything was in order for their arrival. Even now, they come down often just to share a cup of tea with Sigewinne and I. A lot of the prisoners believe that I have some sort of favoritism or that I take bribes from them… hm? Well I didn’t say it wasn’t true, but I didn’t think it was that obvious…”

Zhongli: “You wish to know about my relationship with Their Grace? As the eldest Archon, I take pride in having the strongest connection with them. Even now, when they return to Teyvat centuries later, it feels as if our connection has never changed. If they ever choose to settle in one of the nations, I would be honored if they chose Liyue. Everything I’ve done has been in their image, and being able to spend time with them as Zhongli rather than Morax is a privilege I will never take for granted.”

My first post back just to see how it felt to write some of my favorite characters again. Anyway, I will be opening requests so feel free to send something in! :)

#genshin cult au #sagau #genshin impact sagau #genshin sagau #self aware genshin

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itsokbbygrl · 1 month

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Just Stay.

- A GN!Reader x Jackson!Joel Miller story

For my wonderful, lovely, kind, hilarious friend, Jo (@morgaussy/@merci-killing), who wants nothing more than to worship that old man. I hope this is to your liking ♡

Tags: 18+ MDNI, explicit content, BODY WORSHIP, slight size difference (reader is described as shorter than Joel), reader is generally able bodied and has hair but is otherwise not described, oral sex (M receiving), heavy petting, lots and lots of kisses, body hair appreciation, domestic fluffy smut, two goobers deeply in love, kink discussion (daddy kink, and per jo's request, "A secret barely there splash of mommy kink"), grief mention, TLOU2 Jackson Era (post-Ellie run away era, pre-snowstorm)

WC: 4.6k

A/N: this is full of lazy writing technique and i am aware! there is POV switching whenever i say so, get in both their brains, die mad about it POV purists :)

Warm water, straight from the tap. Straight from the tap and into the basin where Joel Miller’s aching muscles are learning to relax, still, years after their first reconnaissance with a god’s honest bath. He can’t quite believe it. More than 20 years after the end of the world, where people starve and maim and kill and hunt to survive, there are still hot baths. He takes a deep breath and sighs in relief, letting himself sink lower beneath the surface, only the top of his broad chest and shoulders remaining above in the cool air of the home. He closes his eyes for a moment, soaking.

The jiggling of the sticky front door knob calls his attention. An alertness solidified in a world consisting only of predators and prey. Kill or be killed. He knows, rationally, he’s safe here. His eyes clock his hunting knife laid safely on the vanity anyway.

He listens to the familiar sound of your steps, the way you insist on toeing off your boots at the front door, the soft pattering of sock clad feet as they maneuver around the first floor, the creak of the loose floorboard near the kitchen island that he’s been meaning to fix. He can tell just from your movements that you’re hankering for a cup of tea—hearing the cabinet door close softly, always gentle, the ceramic clink of the base of your favorite mug coming into contact with the stone countertop, the metallic clang of the filled teapot as you set it atop the stove. He relaxes further knowing you’re home, safe.

The water is just turning tepid when he hears the stairs creak, signaling your imminent arrival. He pushes himself back up to greet you, the cooler air causing his wet skin to break out in gooseflesh. He turns his head to find you standing quietly, hip propped against the vanity, warm mug cupped between your palms, eyes trained on him already, his favorite soft grin gracing your lips, plumping your cheeks.

“Whatcha doin’ there, starlight?” he asks.

“Just admiring the art,” you respond, raising your mug to your mouth and taking a slurping sip, careful not to burn the fragile skin of your lips and tongue. The response makes him chuckle and flush, blaming the pinkness brought to his chest and neck on the temperature of the water if pressed.

His starlight. A beacon in the dark, guiding him home. He found you at a time when he thought he’d lost everything. Ellie had run off, and, terrified, he’d run after her. Once she’d been found, she’d confessed how she hated him for the choices he’d made for her, how she didn’t want to be part of his life anymore, and he’d agreed to her terms as long as it meant she’d be safe and home. He’d spent the entire ride back to Jackson fighting off the grief that threatened to overtake him. He wasn’t sure how he was going to cope this time, losing another daughter. At least this time he knew she was alive, could watch from a distance as she grew, could talk to the other townsfolk and get updates on her life, make sure she was ok.

That was where you came in. You’d been serving at the local watering hole, The Tipsy Bison, when he’d come in for a drink. You’d poured his whiskey neat, just as he’d requested, and quietly left him to his thoughts as you tended to other patrons. He sat quietly, sipping his drink and listening to your conversation. His ears perked up when he heard you mention your students having a hard time with an assignment you’d given recently. He knew everyone in town shared responsibilities, should’ve figured you would have more to offer to Jackson than to only be a bartender. When you came over to check on him, see if he wanted another pour he assumes, he cleared his throat and asked about your other role as a teacher and your entire face lit up as you gushed about your kids. He tried to listen, but found himself lost in the feeling of being a kid again, the awe he felt the first time his dad had taken him and Tommy out to the wide open Texan countryside and shown them how bright the stars could shine.

He tuned back in when he caught you talking about one student in particular you had connected with—his Ellie. How she was a natural writer, so creative, always scribbling in her journal. Mostly doodles, but over time you described how you’d earned her trust and she’d opened up a little more, shown you some of her poetry, how you’d encouraged her to keep writing. You talked about how she was quiet, shy, kept to herself most of the time, but she had a lot to say on paper. Joel tried to tamp down the proud tears that threatened to well at the news. She was ok. She was going to be ok.

Joel kept going back and you were always there for him, greeting him by name with a soft smile, pouring his glass of whiskey before he’d even had a chance to take a seat on one of the old wooden barstools. You’d formed an easy friendship and before he knew it, he was inviting you over for dinner. You’d gone a little speechless and he worried he’d overstepped, but then you’d let out a breath you must have been holding and giggled, burying your face in your palms for a second before you found his eyes again and the way they shone for him was nothing short of celestial. You’d agreed, and the rest is history.

“You wanna get in?” Joel asked, motioning to the tub.

You shook your head. “Not today. Just want to keep you company if that’s alright.”

“Course that’s alright, sweetheart. Make yourself at home,” he said before going back to relaxing, closing his eyes.

You watched him ease back into contentment in the water before you moved, opening the cabinet below the sink and stealing a couple clean towels. You placed them on the floor next to the tub before kneeling atop them. You took a long drink from your mug of tea before placing it aside. You looked over the products on the tub ledge and grabbed the shampoo. Quietly, you leaned over, laying a soft kiss to Joel’s exposed shoulder before whispering in his ear, “Tip your head back for me.”

He did as instructed, sitting up from the wall, keeping his eyes closed and tipping his head back. You grabbed your mug of tea, draining it before quickly rinsing it in the water, filling it and carefully soaking his sweat damp curls, using your hand to ensure none of the water dripped forward onto his face. You then uncapped the shampoo and squirted a small amount into the palm of your hand. You lathered your hands together, causing the shampoo to begin sudsing, and brought your fingers to his scalp. He hummed in bliss as you began massaging the soap into his tresses, the day’s tension easing from you both as you cared and were cared for in return.

After a few minutes of gentle ministration, you guided his head back with your fingertip under his chin before rinsing the suds from his locks. You then reached for your bottle of conditioner, something you typically reserved for special occasions, and squirted a dollop into your hand before softly carding it through his hair. You let it sit for a bit, rinsing your hands in the water and allowing yourself a moment to admire the man in front of you. He was remarkably beautiful—strong, broad, sun speckled chest giving way to a softer stomach coated in a fine layer of soft brown hair that drew your eyes southward to where his thick cock laid softly against the crease of his thigh, his legs strong enough to walk or ride for miles. Scars littered his skin and you mentally pressed a kiss to each one as your eyes worked their way back up to his face. His eyes met yours there and he leaned forward, capturing your mouth with his own. He held you in place with his palm in its favorite place, cupped around the side of your jaw, thumb finding its place in the divot next to your ear. He kissed you deeply for a few more moments, pouring all of his affection for you into it. You smiled, effectively breaking the embrace, and left him with a final peck to his lips, the tip of his nose, his forehead, before maneuvering him once again to rinse the conditioner from his hair.

Once clean, you helped ease him from beneath the water, wrapping him in one of the towels, now body-warm from where you sat, using the other as a soft barrier between his wet feet and the cold tile floor. He lets you care for him without a word, chest warming as you dry his body and leave sweet kisses in the towel’s wake as you go. He laughs good naturedly when you try to comb his hair back and have trouble reaching, bending down to make the job easier. His heart swells when he sees you grab your precious jar of aloe from the countertop, swiping your fingers through the gooey substance and working it between your palms.

“Can you sit on the toilet for me, please?” You ask. He plants a kiss on your head and complies, thankful for the warm towel you wrapped him with saving his damp skin from the cold porcelain. You stand between his spread thighs and begin your work, piecing together a clump of curls and twisting them around your finger, effectively applying the gelled aloe before giving the little ringlet a squeeze and moving onto the next piece. Joel sits calmly, loving the feeling of your fingers in his hair, the way you love him so simply. He wonders, as he often does, how he got so lucky to find such goodness in a world gone so rotten.

You take your time, dipping back into the jar of aloe you harvested earlier that week as needed, ensuring each ringlet receives the care it so deserves. You love doing this for him. You love this man—this man with his reputation for violence, this man with a karmic debt that may never be fully repaid, this man whose hands were made to create, not destroy, who patiently sits with children as he teaches them to play the guitar, who misses his daughters more than anything in the world. Joel Miller, who protects the least of these with his gun and his knife and his bare hands. The same hands that delicately carve in his workshop, drafting some of the most intricate pieces of woodworking you’d ever seen.

You finish the last curl at the base of his skull, just behind his ear. You give it a little tug and watch as it springs back into shape, smiling at the sight, before leaning down to leave a kiss there…and there and there as you move down the column of his strong neck. You feel his large palms grip your hips and you move your kisses northward, along his jaw, to his mouth where he meets you, urges your mouth open to lick inside and explore. You pursue a deeper physical knowledge of him in return, giving as good as you’re getting, tongue dancing behind his teeth, cataloging every crevice, every bump and ridge, deciphering the taste of him as if he were a fine wine—notes of apple and coffee and his 5pm pour of whiskey and something uniquely him.

You feel his hands roaming, making their way to the front of your jeans, pushing the button through its hole and tugging down the zipper before stuffing his hand inside. He gives you a few firm strokes over your underwear, just to feel, to be so close, and you allow him to explore for a moment before you break your kiss to rest your forehead against his.

You shake your head softly when he attempts to move his hand beneath your cotton barrier and he stills his hand. “Not tonight,” you say quietly, “you first,” and you step back before sinking to your heels in front of him, grabbing the towel from in front of the bathtub and placing it under you before kneeling forward and meeting his eyes. His pupils are blown wide, mouth shiny and flushed with arousal, his chest and neck blushed a beautiful pink. You think he’s never more beautiful than when he’s about to get his cock worshiped by your reverential mouth.

You reach up and gently unfurl the towel from where it’s tucked at his waist, allowing the soft graze of your fingertips to lightly tickle the skin of his stomach, the muscles beneath contracting in their wake. You unwrap him like the gift he is, allowing the towel to open fully, exposing all of him to the room. You take in the sight of him, hard and drooling at the tip, thick thatch of curls nestled at the base, strong thighs parted to cradle you between them. You turn your head to the side and lay a kiss to the inside of his knee, up his thigh, right to the crease of his sensitive groin, before repeating the motion on the other side. You hear him groan and look up to find his head tipped back, already losing himself to his pleasure. You’ll never get over how easy he is for you, how much he clearly loves the way you love him. You repeat your favorite vow to whatever god is listening, to love him forever if they’ll be so gracious.

You reach up to grip the heavy weight of him in your palm, curling your fingers around him as much as you can, and give him a few gentle strokes, the velvety soft skin warm in your hand. You feel his pulse combine with your own as you glide your thumb along the veiny underside. A fresh drop of precum oozes from the tip and you’d be remiss to let it go untasted, leaning forward to meet the spongy head with the wet warmth of your tongue and lapping at it, thankful for its musky, salty gift. You’re sure at some point you’ve stepped out of your body because everything goes quiet as you taste and taste and taste him, lathing your tongue over and over the weeping head while your hand continues to stroke, kissing the very tip of him gently before trailing your lips along the length of him, down to the base and tonguing back to the top, mirroring your actions on the other side, lifting him to give attention underneath, not wanting to leave even a millimeter of him unfound by your mouth.

“God, baby, there you go, so good at this,” Joel’s praises bring your head back above water, but all you want to do is drown. And so you do. You flick your eyes up to meet his before opening your mouth wide and allowing the thick length of him inside, sliding him along your textured tongue, and closing your lips around him tightly. You hold him there for a moment, watching his face as you roll your tongue along the underside of his cock, sucking in a stuttered pattern, allowing the pillowy softness of your inner cheeks to hug him briefly, before pulling off and refilling your lungs. His eyes glisten just as yours do. He cups your face in his palm and you turn to kiss him there. He pushes his fingers into your hair and gently scritches at your scalp. You close your eyes and lean into the gesture before returning to prayer at your altar.

You take him as deep as your jaw will allow over and over, not caring for how messy things are getting as you continue the push and pull, saliva pooling on your tongue and dripping along his length, down the corners of your mouth, off your swollen lips and onto the towel below. You can hear him moaning with abandon now, knowing he’s loving this as much as you do. You tenderly roll his sac between your fingers and he tugs at your hair, so you continue your ministrations as you suck.

“Shit, baby, gonna make me cum,” he warns. You pull your mouth off him and continue to stroke him with your hand.

“Cum in my mouth. Please, want to taste you, want to, want to,” you stutter, mind focused solely on him, making him cum, easing him into blissful release. You open wide and take him back inside, closing your eyes and losing yourself to the feeling. You grab his other hand with your own, holding tight to each other as he helps guide your head exactly where he needs you. You suck and suck and suck until he grants you the prize you’ve eagerly anticipated, and he does it so beautifully. The sounds he releases from his throat resonate against the tiled floors and walls of the room, reverberating into your bones. His lashes fan and grace the tops of his cheeks where his eyes are squeezed tightly shut. His pillowy lips part, the plushness marred by his own teeth marks, bitten in an effort to not give too much of himself away too soon. He tastes so deliciously of man—clean, soapy, salty, musky—as he releases onto your tongue, into the back of your throat, and you make every effort to gracefully swallow everything he gives.

Once he’s finished, you softly suckle the last of your combined fluids from his length, ingesting them to become one together inside you. You leave a parting kiss to his length in thanks for all he’s given you before you allow Joel to haul you up to meet his mouth. He kisses you fiercely, tasting himself there. You know him almost as well as you know yourself, and you know he’s itching to return the favor, but you slow him, softening the kiss until the temperature returns to a simmer. He holds you there against his bareness, one arm keeping your head against his chest while the other strokes your back and you mirror him, fingers running gently all along his back. You feel more than hear when he speaks as it rumbles from his chest.

“Thank you, darlin’. Love you, more’n I thought was possible,” he says. You sigh and kiss his chest, wrap your arms around him tighter.

“Feeling’s mutual, my love. I promise,” you assure him, giving him a final squeeze before stepping back, keeping his hands in yours, not wanting to completely break contact with him just yet. “Come with me, we need to get you dressed.”

You lead him by the hand to your shared bedroom and sit him on the edge of the bed. You turn around and find the dresser where you keep a majority of your combined clothes—yours on the left, his on the right—and pull out a well worn tee and pair of grey sweatpants. You bring the clothes back over to him, setting the pants aside for the moment, and unfolding the t-shirt.

“Arms up, baby,” you instruct. He complies amusedly, raising his arms above his head while you drape him in soft cotton, paying careful attention to the collar, ensuring it’s stretched wide to not disturb his drying curls. Once the shirt is tugged down to cover his soft belly, you move to his pants, scrunching up one leg and feeding his foot through before repeating the motions with the other side. “Stand, please,” you request. He stands, allowing you to tug the waistband up over the swell of his ass, carefully pulling the material over his front to not accidentally overstimulate his now soft cock. You eye him up and down, nodding in approval of your handiwork. “Beautiful,” you say under your breath, not intending for him to hear, just for yourself.

Joel doesn’t remember the last time he felt this way—so deeply cared for. For as long as he can remember now, he’s been the provider, the protector. He hasn’t had a moment to slow down since before Sarah was born, 30 some odd years ago now. And it feels…nice. He feels small in some ways, but not diminished, never with you. No, he feels almost young again, experiencing this kind of selfless love that he’s only ever experienced before from a parent, and something clicks for him. He sees you near the hamper, changing out of your day clothes and into your own pajamas and he gets you, understands you on a deeper level than he had just hours before. He lets you finish your routine and make your way back over to him, anticipating you getting into bed, but instead he’s met with your hand reaching out for him. He takes it in his own, he’ll always take it when it’s so graciously offered.

“C’mon, let’s have a snack, worked up an appetite,” you say jovially. He snickers, thinking to himself that he fed you pretty well not 10 minutes ago, but he’d follow you to the ends of the Earth if it meant you’d keep smiling at him like that.

You lead him downstairs to the kitchen and sit him in his chair at the breakfast table he made just for you. While you putter around, preparing the two of you a small meal to share, he thinks about how beautiful you look in the morning light, the early sun catching on your hair and in your eyes. And you, you give the sun a run for its money with how you shine, bright and golden, warming everyone you come into contact with. You make it so easy for him to forget where you all are, when you are. Nothing is simpler than time spent with you. And now he knows you even better and he isn’t sure yet how he’ll quite thank you for that.

In what feels like just a blink, Joel watches as you plate a simple late evening dinner of eggs and toast for the two of you, an old favorite of Sarah’s, nothing sillier to a child than having breakfast food while the moon sits high in the sky. You bring the plates to the table and sit across from him. He hooks his foot around your ankle as soon as you’re settled.

“Thank you, sweetpea. You didn’t have to do all this,” Joel tells you as he accepts the proffered fork.

“I know,” you respond, stabbing a bite of your scramble with your own cutlery, “but I wanted to,” you finish simply, popping the eggs into your mouth with a smile. Joel returns your smile and digs in.

The two of you quickly polish off your plates, leaving nothing but the crumbs from the bread you’d baked a few days prior behind. Joel moves to clear the table and you allow him to, but join him at the sink, grabbing the dish towel from its place draped over the left half, falling into your regular routine—Joel washes, you dry.

“You know,” he starts, “I think I understand you even better now, after today.”

You turn to look at him with an amusedly confused face. “In what way?”

“You know how sometimes you ask me to be your “daddy” in bed? I love you and I would do almost anything for you, so I’ve never had a problem with it, and I love how it seems to make you feel, but I didn’t fully understand it before,” he pauses, giving you time to respond if you felt you needed to, and turns to see you’ve paused with plate in hand. He fully turns his body to face you now. “I think I get it now. The way you took care of me tonight? It was…almost parental? But it wasn’t at all at the same time. I think,” he tries again, “I think the only other time in my life I’ve experienced that kind of selfless…devotion, I guess…was from a parent. And obviously you’re not my parent, but…fuck, I’m fucking this up, aren’t I?” he asks self-consciously, unable to meet your gaze.

You bring your fingers to his chin, lifting his eyes to meet yours before you speak. “You’re not fucking anything up. You’re right, that’s why I like it, why sometimes I need it. It’s the way you take care of me. You make me feel so incredibly safe, Joel,” you answer him.

Joel pulls you into his chest, gently rubbing your back. “It makes me so, so happy to hear that, my sweet starlight. Always want you to feel safe, loved, taken care of here.”

Your hands snake up the back of his shirt, needing to feel him closer, flesh on flesh. “The same goes for me, you know? If you ever need, or want…I want you to feel that way, too. I love taking care of you, too.”

Joel leans down and kisses the top of your head, closing his eyes and breathing in the scent of you, wanting to solidify this memory for as long as his mind will allow him to hold it. He considers leaving the dishes in the sink to be tomorrow’s problem, wanting nothing more than to return to bed with you, but he knows he’ll be frustrated when the egg has glued itself to the pan and he has to really scrub to remove it. He reluctantly releases you from his embrace and turns back to the sink, washing the remaining plate before handing it to you to dry, and doing the same with the utensils and the old, salvaged steel pan.

Once you’re both satisfied with your work, you close down the kitchen in tandem, flicking off the lights and heading back to your room. You move to your respective sides of the bed—Joel going left, you going right—before climbing beneath the old, soft comforter. You’re both wiped from the day’s activities, opting to just turn the lights out rather than do your usual song and dance of reading for five minutes and falling asleep with the book splayed open on your chest, leaving Joel to gently dogear the page and set it on your bedside table before clicking off your lamp in fond exasperation. In the dark, you hear him shuffle, turning towards you.

“Hey, darlin’?” he asks, getting your attention.

“Yeah, baby?”

“Can you, umm, would you hold me tonight?”

“Of course I will. C’mere, my sweet boy,” you answer. Joel turns over again and shuffles back, allowing you to snake your arm over his torso and bury your face in his shoulders. He holds your arm in place and it feels…right, so nice and comforting and he gets it.

“Thank you. For everything. Never known a love like this, but you make it so easy. Not sure how I’ll ever be able to repay you.”

“Just stay, Joel,” you answer simply, “stay with me. That’s all I want, all I need.”

And he thinks he can do that. And he sends up his own prayer, his favorite vow, to whatever god is listening, to let him stay with you forever, to let him love you until his dying day, that they owe you that much at least, your simple wish. He’ll do whatever he can to ensure it comes true. And as he drifts into unconsciousness, held safely in your arms, he thinks he never wants to be anywhere else.

thank you for reading ♡ please reblog or leave a comment if you enjoyed!

#LJ writes #i've missed this old man #joel miller #joel tlou #joel x reader #joel x you #tlou fanfiction #the last of us fanfiction #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #tlou fic #the last of us #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel miller smut #joel miller fluff #the last of us smut #the last of us fluff #jackson!joel

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vibingandsimping · 7 months

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just read through your whole blog. gods I love your writing 💕💕 would you possibly be able to write how the romanced companions react to waking up to find that their Tiefling/Dragonborn partner has wrapped their tail around them in their sleep?

Oh hush. You’ll make a gal blush.

Edit: I realized I forgot Minthara and will add her later! Lovely Minthara simps I am so sorry. (It is hard remembering all the romance companions)

Astarion is a light sleeper. Hell, he doesn’t even sleep because he’s an elf. Still, he’s deep into his meditative state while you two cuddle. The vampire is the big spoon this time around. Limbs draped over you almost protectively. He stirs a little when something snakes up his ankle towards his knee. His first instinct is to thrash and fight whatever it was. The idea it’d be an animal, that is. After squirming he realizes it was too warm and too large. He looks over at you and sees how content you are. His gaze drifts down towards his leg. Ah, of course it’s your tail. Astarion smiles and suddenly softens at how domestic the act is. The male takes it for you being comfortable with him and nuzzles into you with a sigh. One hand trailing from your body down to his thigh. His fingers intertwining with the tip of your tail. It felt intimate- a type of intimacy that wasn’t sexual. Something new that made his chest soar and he swore he could feel his cold heart beating.

Karlach is laid on her back while you press into her side. Arms wrapped around your shoulder and waist as she sleeps away. You’re quite warm and cozy whenever you two cuddle. Your sleep comes at you hard- almost infectious to the deep sleep she’s in. This girl is a heavy sleeper- and you’d have to splash her with water if you wanted to wake her outside of her schedule. So, it’s no surprise that she doesn’t wake when your tail begins to coil around her. She shifts as it works it’s way around her. The woman’s body instinctively reacts and her tail finds yours. Hooking around the appendage and linking together. It’s natural for tieflings to intertwine in such ways during rest or intimate acts. A soft smile graces her lips as she sleeps and her grip tightens. It’d been a long time since she was able to hold anyone like this. She wakes that morning with a renewed vigor and a shy request to do that again. You simply blush and laugh with her when she remarks how comforting it was.

Gale only stirs when your tail tightens around his waist noticeably. His eyes groggily part and he looks around as his hand trails to his abdomen. After a quick squeeze and inspection of the texture he puts two and two together. He smiles and chuckles to himself. His fingers continuing to trail the skin of the tail as he relishes in your comfort. Then, he lets go and wraps his arms around you further. Drawing you in closer and pressing a kiss to your forehead in tender fashion. Tucking the hair from your face so he can admire you properly. He does make a quip about it in the morning which causes you to flush. He certainly doesn’t mind, no, you can do it all you’d like. It becomes the highlight of his nights. He’d write a poem about it, probably. If you ever found it he’d likely die of mortification. (He’ll get over it.) That, or he’d ask how you felt about it and ask for criticism. Possibly attempting to fluster you in the process.

Wyll has a habit of rubbing his horns against you as he sleeps. Ever since he was turned by Mizora for not honoring his contract. You’d butt your horns with his whenever he fell asleep first and laugh quietly. You’d make subtle comments and he’d blush. Wyll was still learning the new nature of himself and of his new body. Though, this night was his first time to tease you on your habits. You’d been particularly exhausted, turning into his tent for the night. You snuggled into him and you were out in minutes. He had an arm draped over you as he laid with his eyes closed. Your tail began to wrap around him and he parted his eyes. The man watched as you coiled him like a snake and a grin danced on his lips. Torn between not mentioning it at all or getting some deserved revenge. For now, he’d let you sleep. You deserved that at the very least. He stroked your hair as you slept while occasionally glancing at the tail fastened around him.

Shadowheart, hate to say it, dislikes it at first. (At first being the key here.) It’s not that she dislikes you in any form but it freaks her out. Possibly it’s the fact that it’s a tail tightening around her. Or, possibly it’s the phobia of wolves in the back of her mind. Thankfully your tail isn’t furry or she’d genuinely lose it. Especially if she had been asleep and woke to it. Shadowheart tries her best not to mention it to you. It’s your nature and she recognizes it as a form of affection. After a few nights, she slowly adjusts to it. The half-elf allows herself to he curious. Touching it, gently tugging it and letting it wrap around her fingers. It helped ease the subconscious of her mind. She learns to enjoy it, thankfully. She does make a mention of it one day. How it used to freak her out and your heart sank. She saw the look on your face and instantly frowned. She reassured you hurriedly that it was something irrational. That’s why she never spoke of it before. The last thing she’d want you to do is stop.

Lae’zel is a warrior through and through. It took her awhile to be comfortable with cuddling. It’s against her training initially. She holds you so tight when you two share a bedroll. Nearly knocking the wind from your lungs every-time her arms wrap around you. Holding you like you’d disappear in a moments notice. She typically sleeps quite peacefully whilst still on guard. Her face soft and relaxed but with a more rigid body. So, it wasn’t a surprise that when you first slinked your tail she jerked awake. Her hand wrapping around the appendage tightly as she blinked the sleep from her eyes. You flinched and began to squirm- the githyanki finally registering what happened. Her fingers dropped your tail as you relaxed in your dream. A heady sigh escaped her as she rubbed the spot apologetically. She doesn’t mind it, no. It’s just something she’ll have to adjust to. She returns to her previous position and presses her face into your neck. Eyes fluttering shut as she wills sleep to take her once more.

Halsin sleeps in his bear form. You’re likely under his furry body with his front paws splayed around you. His claws and fur tickling your bare skin. To think you can wrap your tail effectively around him is… bold. He definitely does wake to it one night swaying. A large yawn escaping him in almost a roar as he sits up. His head jerking to locate the thumping sound that awoke him from his slumber. He then spots it- your tail swishing as you seem to be having a vivid dream. He figured it was one of contentment or perhaps excitement. He sits and watches for awhile as the movement was quite mesmerizing. Then, when he had his fill and exhaustion pulled at his mind again he flops back down. Taking his two forearms and pulling you in tight. He pins the base of your tail against his stomach- effectively cutting most of the motion off. As much as he finds it adoring, Halsin needs his sleep too. He certainly makes a comment in the morning. Mostly about how he’s thrilled you feel content with him.

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raidenssblog · 6 months

Text

Wanna see some ass shakin'?

Pairing: giyuu X male reader

Genre: smut

Warnings: praise, dirty talk, slight degradation, mention of belly bulge, dumb fucking, non con words (stop, no, slowdown), one fem term for giyuu

Summary: fucking giyuu dumb (can you tell I like sub giyuu???"

A/n: found this little thing in my drafts and incompletely forgot about it. It's shit but I need to post something:(

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

It's the middle of the night, giyuu had the day off so you decided he deserved a little reward for his hard work slaying demons.

Moans and the sound of skin slapping filled your shared room. Your hands kneaded the fat of his hips before sending a harsh slap on his ass followed by a scream. "Yeah? You like that huh?" You questioned slapping him again.

"MHM! Y-yeah i-FU-ckkk" his hands were gripping the sheets and drool was running down his lip. Your thrusts somehow quickened and hardened.

"s-slow down" leaning forward with a whine, giyuu reached back trying to slow your thrust to no avail.

"you were practically begging me a few hours ago, rubbing up against me and whining like the little girl you are" you gripped his hand and locked them behind him before starting your thrusts up again.

Moans and broken sobs could only be heard from the man underneath you. If you could see his face it would probably be red and flustered, drool on the corner of his mouth and eyes rolling to the back of his head.

He was out of his mind just because of your dick.

You liked when it was like this, being able to fuck him so hard he forgets everything but your name.

Everytime you two would sleep together you would ruin the poor boy but god, did he love it and so did you.

Racking your eyes down his back, your eyes fix on his ass, more specifically the way it would bounce when your hips would meet. Thrusting a little bit hard a yelp came from giyuu, but you didn't care.

Reaching down and tangling your fingers in his hair, you pull his flush to your chest, thrusting again you eyed his stomach.

"aww look baby, you dicks that deep in you it's bulging out! You are tiny compared to me" giyuu looked down before throwing his head back with a scream. You, yet again, sped up your thrusts.

"no l-look down now. Look at how good, fuckk, good I fuck you. How deep I am inside you" you said while forcing him to look the his stomach and the bulge your cock was creating.

Tears streamed down his cheeks, fighting around you, you knew he was close. "You close baby, wanna cum all over yourself huh? Fuck I'm close too" you hand jerked his hair so he could face you before smashing your lips against his, spit dripped down your chins, teeth clashing and your tongue down his throat.

"y-yeah ngh, fuck Im so close" another moan fell from his lips, he had fallen from grace yet he was still jaw dropping while he was moaning and squeezing around your cock.

"yeah want me to fill you up nice and full, breed you hard huh? Bet you'd want that, have my cum dripping out of you" the only answer you got from him was a 'mhm'

Your breathing staggered, abs tightening and hand gripping him even harder. One hand heft his hip and jerked him off quickly, the other fondled with his nipple.

"FUCk I'm gonna f-uckin cum, oh my god! Please please can I cum please" he begged, his entire body shaking and eyes rolling back again.

"yeah f-fuck cum, make a mess for me like the good slut you are hmm" you said jerking him off even faster.

"NGH. THAN-K YOU FUCKKK!" Ropes of white cum landed on your hands and the bed sheets.

That was more than enough for you to reach your orgasm, your breath stopped, thrusting deeper in the man you can with a low groan while giyuu whimpered at the warm feeling.

Catching your breaths you kissed his neck and his jaw before his lips. "Did so well for me, all the time, good boy"

"mhm, thank you" he reached for your jaw to kiss you again.

"anytime pretty thing"

#demon slayer #reader insert #male reader #kny x male reader #kny fanfic #sub giyuu #giyuu x male reader smut #dom male reader #kny giyuu

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nhlclover · 10 days

Text

so american | rutger mcgroarty

word count: 1.35k

summary: on your way to the spend a weekend at the lake house with his teammates, you think about your future with rutger

warnings: british reader!, mentions of some other umich players (nick, duke brothers), brief sad thoughts

notes: based on 'so american' by olivia rodrigo. who am i if not writing fics based on songs.

The morning sun was beginning to rise, casting a golden hue on Rutger’s jeep that rumbled down the highway, its tires humming against the asphalt. Rutger sat in the driver's seat, his left hand holding a loose grip on the wheel, while you sat comfortably in the passenger seat, your feet were propped up on the dashboard. Rutger insisted you hit the road early to get to Jacob’s lake house around mid-morning. You felt that was a little too early, but he was excited to spend some spare time at the end of the semester with his friends and girlfriend, relaxing on the water. To make up for the early start time, Rutger bought you an iced coffee and promised that you could sleep in the car on the way over.

However, you couldn’t find yourself able to fall back asleep, instead taking over aux, the early morning air that flowed through the cracked windows helping to rejuvenate you. You tapped your fingers against the door handle, matching the beat of the song you’d selected. Dirt On My Boots by Jon Pardi filled the space, a contented smile gracing your lips.

“You’ve turned so American.” Rutger says, pulling your brain out of its brief daze.

“What?” You ask, your brows furrowing.

“I mean… look at you,” Rutger says with a chuckle. “You’re sitting there with your feet on the dash, you’re listening to country music, and you’re repping USA merch.”

Rutger motions to one of his hoodies that you’d thrown on as you were leaving. It was one given to him by the world juniors team he’d just played on, the letters U-S-A largely displayed on the chest.

You turned to him, adjusting your position in the seat. "Oh, please, don't say that. I'm still very much British, thank you very much." You retort, rejecting the idea that you’d become American in any way.

When you applied for an exchange to the University of Michigan, nothing could’ve prepared you for what would’ve come. On your first day of classes in the new country, you met Rutger. When a pretty girl sat next to him in one of his classes, he knew he had to talk to her. It didn’t take long for the two of you to develop feelings, Rutger soon being the ‘dreamy American’ that your friends had jokingly told you you’d fall for. And fall for him you did.

It was unfair of Rutger to make you feel this much when you both knew your future was uncertain.

“Hey, there is nothing wrong with being American.” Rutger points out.

“Yeah says the American.” You tease, rolling your eyes. “Thank god I’m going home soon. I need to reconnect with my roots if you think I’ve become American.”

Despite that being a joke, you couldn't shake the underlying sadness that gnawed at you. In just one week, you were leaving Michigan and returning to the UK. The thought of leaving Rutger and the life you’d established in Michigan weighed heavily on your heart. You knew that the bond you’d established with Rutger would withstand the miles and borders, however the prospect of being separated from him felt like tearing away a piece of you.

Rutger, sensing the shift in your demeanour as well as knowing that the inevitable move was weighing on you, reached over, taking your hand in his. His cold fingers lacing between yours quickly drew you back to reality.

“Hey,” He said softly. “Try not to think about it for now. Enjoy this weekend. We’ve got ages to figure it all out.”

You squeezed Rutger’s hand drawing comfort from his touch. With a gentle smile, you met his gaze, gratitude shining in your eyes. “Thank you, Rut.” You said softly.

Rutger returned your smile, turning his attention back to the road while keeping your hand in his. You continued the drive, doing your best to expel the thoughts of leaving from your mind.

Three hours later, Rutger pulled down a laneway that ultimately led to a large house on the water. Rutger’s teammates were already outside, eagerly awaiting your arrival.

“Hey guys!” Rutger called out as they stepped out of the car. Rutger’s teammates come over, greeting the two of them.

“This place is beautiful.” You comment, admiring the glimpse of the water you could see past the house.

“God, I will never get over the accent.” Nick said. Rutger shoved his shoulder while you playfully rolled your eyes.

You considered yourself lucky that you’d become friends with Rutger’s teammates. From the moment Rutger introduced you to them, they’d welcomed you with open arms. And as you spent more time with them, they weren’t just Rutger’s teammates, they were your friends as well.

“Alright, now go get changed, we’re hitting the water.” Luca said, ushering the two of you inside.

You headed up to your room, changed into the swimsuits you’d brought, and then headed downstairs to meet the rest of the group. The rest of the afternoon, you guys remained on the water. You all took turns on the tube, as well as some of the boys deciding to test their water skiing skills. When the sun began to descend towards the horizon, a golden hue being cast on the water, you headed back to the house to start dinner, which was a full team activity in which everyone was put to work doing something. You and Rutger were put in charge of the barbecue on the back patio, teaming up with Dylan and Tyler to grill the burgers and corn.

After dinner was demolished, you headed down to the fire pit, relaxing in the Adirondack chairs, talking about whatever came to mind. The flames cast flickering glows on everyone's faces as you discussed sports, your exams, and random childhood anecdotes whether relevant or not. After a while of drinking and chatting, both you and Rutger hit your limits and decide to call it a night.

The second that Rutger’s head hits the pillow, he’s out like a light, the day’s activities catching up with him. After a full day of tubing and waterskiing, combined with the drinks they’d consumed throughout the day, everyone was wiped. You, however, lay awake, the moonlight reflecting off the water and into the open window.

You traced your fingers through Rutger's hair, watching his bare chest rise and fall with steady breaths. With the tranquillity of the room enveloping you, you find yourself lost in a maze of thoughts, your mind swirling with visions of Rutger and the future they could share.

England was home. England was where you grew up, where your family and friends still resided. The thought of leaving them to be in North America made your heart tense. However, lying in the sheets and staring up at the ceiling, you couldn’t help but imagine moving to North America to be with Rutger. As you look over at him, still peacefully asleep, you imagine the prospect of uprooting your life for the American boy you fell in love with, of bridging the distance to be with Rutger.

Your thoughts continue to wander, picturing what could come of life in America with Rutger. Your mind entertains the notion of marriage, a distant yet possible milestone. That might be a little presumptuous of you, with your relationship still being in its infancy, but you practically couldn’t help it. The way he’d made you feel in the past 8 months was unlike anything you’d ever experienced before. Every moment with him felt like a moment torn from a romance book. Every moment with him was filled with laughter and stolen glances, creating an undeniable intimacy and connection.

You had to eventually force those thoughts out of your mind or else they would’ve kept you up all night. You rolled over, curling into Rutger’s side, and placing a delicate hand on his abs. Rutger stirred momentarily, instinctively wrapping his arm around you, drawing you closer. For now, you were content to simply be in this moment with him, cherishing the time you had left before you had to return home.

#rutger mcgroarty #rutger mcgroarty imagine #rutger mcgroarty x reader #nhl #nhl imagine #hockey #hockey imagine #umich hockey #umich #university of michigan

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jedimaesteryoda · 1 month

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One trend I've noticed a lot lately in the speculation of Tyrion meeting Daenerys is how he'll influence her. The argument often is that Tyrion will encourage her more "fire and blood" destructive tendencies when they get to Westeros. However, this view is often one-sided as it's always about how Tyrion will influence Daenerys but never about how Daenerys will influence Tyrion.

"Daenerys, I am thrice your age," Ser Jorah said. "I have seen how false men are. Very few are worthy of trust, and Daario Naharis is not one of them. Even his beard wears false colors." That angered her. "Whilst you have an honest beard, is that what you are telling me? You are the only man I should ever trust?" He stiffened. "I did not say that." "You say it every day. Pyat Pree's a liar, Xaro's a schemer, Belwas a braggart, Arstan an assassin . . . do you think I'm still some virgin girl, that I cannot hear the words behind the words?" "Your Grace—" She bulled over him. "You have been a better friend to me than any I have known, a better brother than Viserys ever was. You are the first of my Queensguard, the commander of my army, my most valued counselor, my good right hand. I honor and respect and cherish you—but I do not desire you, Jorah Mormont, and I am weary of your trying to push every other man in the world away from me, so I must needs rely on you and you alone. It will not serve, and it will not make me love you any better." -ASOS, Daenerys IV

Daenerys is not the sheltered child Aegon was who Tyrion could easily manipulate as shown when she called out Jorah for trying to isolate her from other men. Even Tyrion admitted to Aegon, having never met Daenerys that "she is strong" and "fierce." Daenerys was more worldly at 14 than Aegon is at 16. Even as a small, frightened girl at age 13 in the beginning of the series, she had more street smarts than her adult brother Viserys and has shown to be a prodigy in the series. Tyrion would not be able to manipulate her easily, especially since would initially be wary of him for being a Lannister.

Tyrion at the end of the day would be serving as her subordinate, him being largely dependent on her. Tyrion largely is the way he is because of the toxic family he grew up in. The Lannister vision has no idea of a Good Society, it's just pure self-aggrandizement by any means necessary. As the adage goes, rot always starts at the head. The monarchs Tyrion served as Hand, Joffrey and Cersei, were both cruel, incompetent tyrants with senses of entitlement that outweighed their actual abilities. They also had no concept of the duties of a monarch to their subjects, and instead just abused their power over others, including sexually. The one who actually ran the show for the Lannister regime, Tywin, was a cold, abusive Machiavellian who brutalized the smallfolk and his children, seeing them as pawns in his schemes. Tyrion could be cunning and brutal, because it was both encouraged and necessary for the winner-take-all, dog-eat-dog world of the Lannister court. It was an environment designed to bring out the darker side of his nature.

However, since the beginning we saw hints of the lighter side of his nature such as when he gave emotional support to Jon and designed a special saddle for Bran. He even helped Catelyn when they were attacked by the mountain clans even though she kidnapped him. In A Clash of Kings, we see hints of Tyrion wanting to be something other than the cold Machiavellian like his father when he stands up for Sansa when Joffrey beats her, and he has Morec killed and Slynt sent to the Wall for killing Barra, wanting to "do justice." In A Dance with Dragons, he risks his life to protect Aegon and even in his lowest he looks out for Penny even though she is a complete stranger to him.

Daenerys is a foil to Cersei, whose ruling philosophy is expressed in the statement "Why do the gods make kings and queens, if not to protect the ones who can't protect themselves?" Daenerys tries to live up to the image of an ideal monarch who protects the weak. She liberates the oppressed from slavery and tries to protect them, even performing acts like tending to those afflicted with the bloody flux herself, marrying someone she doesn't want and putting her plan of going to Westeros on hold to achieve peace. Working as Hand to Queen Daenerys, Tyrion may find himself in a change of pace in a different environment where for once his more positive tendencies are encouraged with his fondness for "cripples, bastards and broken things."

In short, in cutting himself off from his toxic family, Tyrion may actually find a new beginning in service to Daenerys. He's the Machiavellian polymath and court politician she needs, and she's the competent, idealistic monarch he needs.

#asoiaf #a song of ice and fire #queen daenerys #daenerys targaryen #daenerys stormborn #tyrion lannister #house lannister #house targaryen #meereen #queen cersei #cersei

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mayhemories · 1 year

Note

Neteyam x reader dealing with the change between the forest and the reef. Fluff plssssssss but also kinda smutty.

I don't know how to describe it but can the reader want to mate with Neteyam bc they haven't yet and the reader doesn't know how to bring it up. and she is like worried about being a virgin

idk i cant stop thinking about Neteyam x reader sex on the beach

(doesn't have to be like actual smut if you are uncomfy)

What A Blessing

Oh, thank you so much for the request! I really enjoyed writing it. I hope I did it some kind of justice. I didn't commit to the smut in this part, but I was kinda envisioning a smutty pt 2. to this fic, so let me know if you'd want that <3

Pairing: Neteyam Sully x Reader (James Cameron’s Avatar)

Requested: Yes | No

Warnings: Spicy Fluff? Straight Fluff. Neteyam has 1 (one) dirty thought, god forbid, let him live. Reader has a chat about sex and mating.

Words: 2.6k

Author’s Notes:

Minors DNI (no smut explicitly but still not for you guys, okay?)

Listened to How Can I Make It OK? - Wolf Alice, nonstop writing this. So if you want the vibe, there it is.

Neteyam is 19, reader is 18/19, Lo’ak, Kiri and Tsireya are 17. Lil Tuk girl queen is the same age as the movie because I will protect her childhood.

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!

Read below the cut:

Having Neteyam as your promised mate was a blessing. Having the security of someone so beautiful, strong and kind was priceless. A blessing. Having the Sully family as your fortress: Jake as your father-in-law and the Olo'eyktan, Neytiri as the mother you only ever dreamed of, Mo’at and all her teachings, the wisdom of the T’sahik that she instilled in you, for the future. Lo’ak as the annoying thorn in your side, but a thorn that opened your eyes to new sides of Pandora, nonetheless. Kiri as your sister in spirit, someone who felt Eywa like you did, someone who did not forget the power of her strength during hardships. And little Tuk, someone who made you laugh, and play and sparked the power of your imagination like it had been when you were little.

And of course, your beloved Neteyam. With his broad chest, and broader smile. Honey eyes that could spring from docile to alert and tracking in seconds. With his sweet laugh and sweeter, protective nature of his siblings and his clan members. Being Neteyam Sully’s love was a blessing, was a strong fortress. Being in love with him was simple and easy. As was loving his family. Everything was perfect.

Until it just wasn’t anymore.

“No, Neteyam” you sighed. Sitting on the side of your shared bed, Neteyam kneeling in front of you, your hands weaved together. “I don’t understand.” your voice was soft, the tears streaking down your face were softer still.

“My love, my father has decided,” Neteyam spoke softly, as if not to frighten you. “I must leave, my family must leave for the safety of the clan, for their longevity.” You loosed a sad chuckle, shaking your head sending rouge braids that Tuk has made flying around the perimeter of your face.

“No, Neteyam, I don’t understand why you are talking like I am not coming with you.” You felt something fierce awaken in your small, beating heart. You were rarely like this, but when you were, Neteyam knew there was no point.

“My love you know you can go anywhere, do anything you choose, I will never be able to stop you.” A sweet smile graced his lips, sighing he continued, “you know my only wish in this life is to keep you safe.”

Gently, you wiped your face clean of salty tears, bending down to meet him on the floor of your sleeping quarters. You held Neteyam’s eyes with your own. And he knew in that moment, that he could never be parted from you. In this life and the next, he would always be with you.

“I will always be safe when I am with you, Neteyam.”

Finally landing the Ikran on the sand was instant relief to you. Your thighs were chaffed and your skin felt so dry like you had been whipped, skin peeling, ripped from the constant barrage of the coastal wind. Dismounting, your legs felt wobbly, like a baby taking its first steps. Neteyam kept his hands on your waist, stabilising you. You were no hunter, no rider really. That was all Neteyam. But, a keen herbalist, forager, spiritualist. You were his balance, or rather, you were supposed to be his T’sahik.

The sun was so warm on your skin as you waited for the leaders of the Metkayina to accept your plea for refuge. You did not know if it was the delirium from the long flight, or whether the anxiety of being turned away caught up with you, but you felt like you were floating in and out of existence. One moment you were standing, the next walking with all your belongings to your new home, the next you were sitting in the intricately woven marui pod, unpacking everything and anything that meant something to you.

Neteyam’s hands, calloused from the Ikran’s reigns and the grooves of his bow, found your slumping shoulders. Small circles being rubbed into your mistreated skin.

“My love, are you happy?” Neteyam whispered over the sensitive curl of your ear.

“Can I be honest with you, Neteyam?” You asked, turning to face him. He scanned your face for any signs of anxiety, happiness, indifference. Tightening his brows, as well as the grip on your shoulders.

“Of course, always.”

You smiled at that, he was still the same, despite it all.

“I am worried I will not thrive here, that I will be dead weight.” You wrung your hands and wrists, head cast down, to escape his gaze, but also in shame, admitting your fear to him. To Neteyam. Your perfect Neteyam who could do no wrong.

“I’m too worried, that I will be dead weight.” Neteyam sighed. Your head sprung up, confused. Your hands found either side of his face.

“Are you stupid or something?” Neteyam smirked slightly, his hands snaking up to rest on yours. “Neteyam, everything you touch turns to gold, you can’t really fail at anything.” He laughed at you, a proper stomach laugh.

“Care to share that tidbit with my father when you get a chance-” Rolling your eyes, you cut him off.

“Neteyam, I’m serious.” You felt yourself starting to pout.

“Take some of your own advice, huh.” Neteyam captured your eyes again. With a small peck on your pursed lips, he whispered: “You have medical training, you have intelligence and a strong heart.” One of his hands rested on your chest, roughly where you knew your heart would be. “You are connected to Eywa, you are connected to me. Forever.” You couldn’t help but smile. Oh Jesus, Neteyam he always knew exactly what to say. “My love Eywa will never turn her back on you, and I will always protect you from anything that might come.”

Loving him was so easy, especially when he said things like that.

He held your hands as you both stood up.

“Now, let’s get some fresh water into you.” You chuckled, you knew you were dehydrated beyond belief. “And maybe some salve for that chafe too, huh.” He chuckled at you, pinching your side as you giggled, leaning into his safe arms.

A blessing.

The days quickly burned into weeks, the weeks into months. Your training with Tsireya and Ao’nung went well, to your surprise. You found breathing easy, as you could imagine the lungs filling and deflating. Though, Kiri teased you that Eywa decided you must be good at everything. Yet, all you saw was how naturally it came to Kiri and Tuk, themselves. You’d never admit it to Neteyam, but you preferred riding the Ilu.

It came a bit harder for Neteyam and Lo’ak, but they were dedicated. Neteyam wanted to uphold the promise he made to Jake, that he would pull his weight, stay out of trouble, and bring no shame to the family. Lo’ak was driven by holding Tsireya’s attention. Which, you decided, wasn’t the worst idea Lo’ak had ever had.

You liked Tsireya, Ao’nung… not so much, though after his big fight with Lo’ak and Neteyam, he had been more tolerable to be around.

Tsireya and you sat side by side on the sand. You talked about anything and everything. She would often help you with your hair, and you would often help her with Lo’ak. You both had been trained as Tsakarem and loved the Sully boys. As different as they were, you knew better than anyone else, all Sully boys were the same breed.

Her fingers were in your hair, trying to get Tuk’s random braids and beads out before she properly weaved your hair into some kind of intricate braid pattern.

“How did you know Neteyam was the one?” Tsireya asked, though you knew she sat right with you, you knew her mind was thousands of miles away, with a certain Sully. You giggled, knowing that you were like this once. Maybe, you still were like this, though your love for Neteyam was not so young and fresh and scary, all at once, like Tsireya and Lo’ak.

Neteyam was running down the beach with Tuk, he felt sorry that he had not spent as much time with her as he used to. They collected every shell that she deemed pretty enough, placing them into a makeshift bucket Neteyam had fashioned out of a palm husk.

“Look!” Shouted Tuk, Neteyam expected another pretty shell, but he looked up to where his little sister was pointing. “It’s (y/n) and Tsireya.” Neteyam smiled at her happiness, but also at how happy and content you looked.

Giggling with your newfound friend, talking animatedly, using your hands, as you so often did when you were passionate about something. You looked so carefree in the late afternoon light, the pale pink hue stretching out across the sand. Neteyam realised, you finally looked your age. So young and full of life.

The inappropriate edges of his mind could not help but think about mating you on the sand, then and there. All the mewling sounds that he knew he could coax from you, if only he was given the chance.

He quickly shook his head, as if to throw the image out of his brain and onto the sand. He refocused on Tuk again.

“Hey, don’t bother them yeah?” Neteyam said softly, holding a shell out for Tuk to take. “They look like they’re having fun.” Tuk twisted her nose up, but eventually agreed, digging her little fingers back in the sand, sifting to find the prettiest shell, just for you.

“So,” Tsireya started again, still doing your hair. You watched Neteyam and Tuk, further down the beach. Your heart was warm, blooming in adoration for him all over again. “You love Neteyam that much, but you two are yet to mate” all the blood pooled into your cheeks, across your nose and the tips of your ears. Talking about your virginity with Tsireya was new, but not unwanted, you supposed. “How come?” She finished your hair, sitting across from you, cross-legged like children in lessons.

“We haven’t spoken about it really.” You started, playing with your new braids shyly. “Neteyam was very sought after back home, I am not entirely sure what he did and did not do with others.”

Tsireya covered her mouth while she giggled softly, you mirrored her actions, still shy to be broaching the topic at all.

“And you?” She asked. You quirked your eyebrows in confusion, not really sure what she was asking. “Have you ever done anything? With Neteyam or otherwise?”

You knew you must be almost purple in the face, the blood pooling behind your deep blue skin.

“We kiss of course, but that is all.” You kept your eyes on Neteyam further down the beach, worried the ocean breeze would carry your conversation. “so far.” you added, hastily, in case the wind did betray you.

Tsireya looked behind her, at Neteyam and Tuk, and then back at you and your eyes, full of longing for the elder Sully boy.

“Neteyam! Tuk!” Tsireya called out, you hissed.

“Ah! What are you doing?” You still felt nervous after admitting these things aloud to Tsireya.

“Come join us!” Tsireya ignored you, but beckoned the two Sully’s over. Tuk came bounding, a bright smile on her little face, braids bouncing as she ran.

“We collected shells for you! And for mommy too.” She said proudly. Showing off her palm husk full of shells, some stunning, truthfully. Others were broken or chipped. But to Tuk, they were beautiful all the same.

Neteyam sat next to you quietly, thighs brushing. You felt like you were going to pass out, still embarrassed from the conversation with Tsireya, which Neteyam knew nothing about. But his presence, though usually a blessing, was too much.

“Oh wow!” Tsireya exclaimed, causing Tuk to smile wider. “Shall we take them to show your mommy? I feel like she would want to see them!” Tsireya asked Tuk in a sing-song voice. They stood up so quickly, Tsireya holding hands with Tuk, Tuk leading the charge back to the village.

You were lost for words. Tsireya had set you up, alone, with Neteyam, just before eclipse. She confirmed this with a sly wink thrown over her shoulder. You couldn’t help but stare at their retreating figures.

It was stupid really. Neteyam was your promised mate, your love, your everything. And a few words exchanged in confidence with your best friend regarding your lack of sex life has caused you to be in shambles.

Neteyam could see the remnants of blush resting upon your high cheekbones. And, he’s not stupid, he saw Tsireya’s pointed wink. Putting a braid behind your tinted ear, he started:

“So, what did you two talk about? You seemed like you were having fun.” Neteyam smiled, elbowing you in the side.

Loving him was so easy, why couldn’t mating be easy too? Why couldn’t having sex with him be the easiest thing to do?

“Neteyam,” You released a breath you weren’t even aware that you were holding. “Have we not mated yet because of my lack of knowledge in pleasure?” It was a stupid question, you knew that. But you couldn’t get the seed of the thought out of your mind, now that it had been sown.

Neteyam felt all the blood in his body rush to his face, it was his turn to blush he supposed.

“How could you even think that?” He chuckled, holding your face in his hands. The heat of your face radiating outwards. “Do you think I have so much experience? Of course not.”

You felt foolish now, so you leaned into it for once.

“So you do want to mate with me then?” You asked, your voice only slightly louder than a whisper.

Neteyam laughed.

Not a sweet chuckle, or a nervous giggle, a full-blown laugh.

You instantly retreated into yourself, not expecting him to laugh at you, despite the foolishness.

“Oh Eywa, help me,” Neteyam started, seeing your embarrassed figure pulling your knees to your chest. “My love,” Neteyam grabbed your chin in his strong fingers, forcing you to look him in his amber eyes, now lust-blown and heavy-lidded. “I think about mating with you every day. It’s the first thing I think of in the morning, the last thing I think about at night, I dream of it, of you my darling.” His genuine confession set your heart racing, your blush fighting tooth and nail to be at the forefront of your face. “My (y/n) I couldn’t even witness you sitting on the beach with a friend without thinking about it.”

He always knew what to say. Loving him was easy. What a blessing.

That mantra ran circles around your mind as you listened to him.

“If I’m being honest, we have not yet mated because I am scared,” Neteyam spoke softly again as if his admission was going to float away in the breeze. “I am scared that one day you will wake up and want to leave me.” His voice broke slightly.

You audibly gasped, this boy.

“Neteyam, you know I would never leave you,” your fingers found their home in his hair, despite his grip on your chin. “I love you, I see you.”

Neteyam smiled. The eclipse rapidly approached behind him, and in the moonlight, his skin glowed, he radiated such pureness, you never wanted to let it go.

Never wanted to let him go.

“I see you too, my love. Always” He kissed all over your face, making sure to get every freckle, every smile line, every inch. “We can mate whenever you want my love, whenever you want.”

“Eywa has blessed me with you, Neteyam.” You giggled.

You couldn’t wait much longer, you needed to mate with him. Entwine your bodies and souls for life.

As he kissed your lips with his soft, plump pair, all you could think of was,

Loving Neteyam was easy, so easy, like breathing. It was natural, it was right, it was forever. It was a blessing, it was a fortress.

You will never know what you did to be so blessed with the gift of Neteyam.

Additionally, you also couldn’t wait to tell Tsireya.

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dee-writes-smut · 3 days

Text

DAFFODILS (Chapter One)

FEATURING Eris Vanserra x pregnant!reader

SUMMARY The Spring Court has gone to shit, and while you would normally be able to tolerate it, the new discovery that you were pregnant pushes you to the gates of The Autumn Court and unknowingly into Eris' arms.

CONTENT WARNINGS pregnancy, Eris being a slight douche (you know how it is yall), violence (reader is kicked in the stomach), and mentions of Tampon (Tamlin).

AUTHORS NOTE who's excited for the kick-off of yet another series? I am! Of course, I had to start an Eris series, I love him too much not to! Strap in, darlings, I have a feeling this is going to be a long one.

The once vibrant Spring court had gone to shit, a shadow of its former glory. Tamlin, the once revered and compassionate High Lord, had vanished, abandoning his people to suffer in the decay his negligence had allowed to fester.

Amid the desolation, there were attempts to salvage what remained of the Spring Court. Lucien's name surfaced as one who strove to preserve our home. I recall his desperate sacrifice on Calanmai, offering himself to Ianthe in a futile bid to rescue us. He still occasionally visits, perhaps clinging to a hope that he might stumble upon signs of revival, our High Lord restored to his former benevolence. Yet each return only reinforces the stark reality of our decline, leaving him unsurprised by the sight of our dwindling realm.

And now, here I stand, just beyond the borders of the Autumn Court, clad in nothing but the ragged remnants of my escape, imploring the impassive sentries to grant me sanctuary within their walls. They offer no response, their stoic countenances unmoved as I plead and weep at their feet.

In my disheveled state, I must present a pitiful sight—my attire threadbare and stained, my once-glamorous countenance marred by streaks of dirt and smudged cosmetics, my limbs adorned with bruises like macabre adornments.

As I teeter on the brink of desperation, a voice cuts through the stillness, emerging from the depths of the forest to my right. The guards snap to attention at its sound, their posture stiffening even further, if such a thing were possible, in deference to its commanding presence.

"What is the meaning of this?" The voice, smooth as silk and sharp as a blade, belonged to a man with cascading locks of fiery hair, who strode forth from the underbrush with an air of regal authority.

Gods, he was a vision to behold. Despite the earthy stains marring his attire and the tousled state of his tunic sleeves, he exuded an otherworldly allure.

"A mere denizen of the Spring Court, attempting to beg her way into our domain, my lord," one of the guards grumbled, offering a curt bow before callously nudging me aside with his boot. I winced as the blow landed squarely in my stomach.

"And what, pray tell, do you think you are doing, you imbecile!" The fiery-haired man's voice dripped with disdain as he strode forward, confronting the offending guard with palpable fury. "Can you not discern her condition, you fool? She carries life within her."

My heart lurched as I instinctively cradled my abdomen, a protective gesture born of maternal instinct. Though every fiber of my being yearned to retaliate against the guard's callousness, I forced myself to breathe deeply, refusing to succumb to the animalistic urges that society expected of Spring Court members in these desperate times.

"Are you alright?" the man inquired, his amber eyes ablaze with a captivating mix of concern and authority, their gaze so intense that it stole the very air from my lungs.

"I'm… I'm fine," I managed to utter, brushing aside the tangled strands of hair obscuring my face and inhaling deeply to steady my frayed nerves.

"I must apologize for the behavior of my soldier. Rest assured, appropriate measures will be taken, my lady," the man assured me, his smile radiant as he inclined his head with graceful deference. His charm nearly brought a wry laugh to my lips.

"No need for such formalities," I replied weakly, the weight of my displaced status as a refugee gnawing at my throat like a persistent ache. But I steeled myself with the thought of my unborn child, a beacon of hope amidst the chaos. "I am no longer a lady—well, not in the traditional sense, anyway."

"How so?" the man persisted, his expression a blend of curiosity and genuine concern, prompting me to draw my arms tighter around myself.

"I find it quite audacious for someone whose name I don't even know to ask such personal questions," I retorted, feigning a hint of indignation that rang hollow even to my own ears.

"Fair point," he conceded with a charming grin, though his adherence to formality still grated on my nerves. "Allow me to rectify that oversight. My name is Eris. Eris Vanserra, Heir to the Autumn Court," he declared, and I felt a strange mixture of relief and weariness wash over me at his introduction.

Eris. Lucien had spoken sparingly of his older brother during his time in the Spring Court, but whenever he did, a profound sense of affection tinged with melancholy colored his words. I shook myself from my reverie, extending a hand in a gesture of polite acknowledgement as I reciprocated with my own name. Eris repeated my name softly, testing it on his tongue, and my heart twinged at the striking resemblance in mannerism between him and Lucien, one so distant yet familiar, the other painfully close.

"Now," Eris began, his hands making a smooth, sweeping gesture that hinted at his readiness to delve deeper into the matter at hand, "what brings you to the borders of the Autumn Court, my lady?"

"The Spring Court is…" My voice faltered, and I let out a weary sigh, my hand instinctively resting on my still-flat stomach for comfort.

"It's gone to shit," he finished for me, his smirk sharp but not unkind.

"Well, I wouldn't have phrased it quite so bluntly, but yes," I responded, my fingers tracing small circles over my abdomen. "That place and its ruler are no fit environment for a child. Considering the proximity of your court, I was hoping I might find a new beginning here."

"What about the father?" Eris inquired, one eyebrow—a mirror image of Lucien's—arching skeptically.

I clear my throat awkwardly and look at my well-worn shoes. How does one tell the Heir to the Autumn Court that they are pregnant with his youngest brother's babe? How does one also explain how he is mated to another female, that they knew as soon as that brother found out about said babe, he would give up all hope to find his true mate in order to be there for his child?

"Not in the picture," I manage to say, my voice faltering slightly as I reach up to scratch the back of my neck, a gesture betraying my discomfort.

Eris hums, a low, thoughtful sound that vibrates with suspicion, his striking eyes narrowing as he scrutinizes my uneasy demeanor. The weight of his gaze feels like it could peel back the layers of my hastily constructed defenses, compelling me to confront truths I'd rather leave unspoken. Eris's scrutinizing gaze doesn't waver, and the silence stretches taut between us like a bowstring. "Not in the picture," he echoes thoughtfully, each word heavy with the promise of unasked questions.

I nod, feeling the weight of the moment settling around us. The air in the forest seems to hold its breath, the usual whispers of leaves and distant calls of woodland creatures falling into a hushed reverence. "And you must understand, my lord, that my child is my utmost priority," I assert with unwavering resolve, emphasizing his title with a hint of disdain, as if challenging the very foundations of our unequal stations.

The guards stationed behind me draw in sharp, anticipatory breaths, seemingly prepared for their lord to mete out swift retribution for my boldness. I steel myself against the expected blow, a silent rehearsal of defiance.

Yet, the expected strike does not materialize. Instead, Eris regards me with what could only be described as admiration. His gaze, intense and calculating, appraises me not as a threat, but as a formidable presence in my own right.

"Well, little fox," he begins, his voice carrying a playful undertone that belies the depth of his contemplation. He strokes his chin thoughtfully, his fingers tracing the lines of his jaw as if to physically underline his ponderings. "It appears you've presented quite the compelling argument for yourself here."

The use of "little fox" — a term perhaps meant to denote cunning and resilience — sparks a flicker of amusement within me, mixed with a surge of cautious optimism. His demeanor suggests a blend of challenge and respect, hinting at a dynamic that could evolve beyond mere formalities or supplications. This man before me is not just the heir to a court; he is a strategist weighing his next move.

"You seek shelter for yourself and the babe?" Eris inquires with a hint of slyness, as if to subtly test my resolve, though it's a point I've already made abundantly clear.

"Indeed," I retort sharply, refusing to waver under the weight of his penetrating gaze.

"Then shelter you shall have," he declares, pivoting on his heel to fix the guards with a stern glare. "You will allow her passage," he commands, his tone uncompromising. The guards, obedient to their lord's decree, quickly acquiesce, parting to allow me entry with a mere flick of Eris's wrist.

The heady scent of spices and autumnal freshness assaults my senses as I approach the threshold, beckoning me forward with its tantalizing allure. It's as if the very essence of this court implores me to embrace my true purpose, to seize control of my destiny without hesitation. The boldness of it all catches me off guard, stirring a sense of rebellion that courses through my veins like wildfire.

Pausing at the threshold, I find myself suspended between the tranquility of the wilderness behind me and the vibrant chaos of the court ahead. I hesitate, grappling with the weight of the choices that lie before me.

Eris slows his stride beside me, as if attuned to my uncertainty, and extends his arm—an offering both courteous and suggestive. His demeanor exudes confidence and assurance, as if he expects me to surrender to his lead without question.

But I refuse to yield to the expectations of courtly decorum. Chin held high, I meet his gaze with unwavering resolve, ignoring the disheveled state of my attire as I assert my independence. My feet remain firmly planted, refusing to advance until I am ready, on my own terms.

Eris's arm lingers in the air for a moment, a flicker of surprise crossing his features at my defiance. His amber eyes search mine, silently probing, yet beneath the scrutiny, I detect a glimmer of curiosity and… respect.

"I am quite capable of managing on my own," I declare, my voice steady despite the storm of emotions raging within me.

His expression softens, and he nods, gracefully retracting his arm. "As you wish," he concedes, gesturing for me to take the lead as we finally step through the threshold together.

The walk through the streets of Autumn was like stepping into a painting come to life. The cobblestone pathways wound gracefully between quaint buildings adorned with intricate carvings and vibrant splashes of ivy. Overhead, colorful banners fluttered in the gentle breeze, their designs depicting scenes of seasonal splendor and courtly festivities.

Stands and stalls lined the streets, each one a miniature wonderland of treasures waiting to be discovered. From intricately woven tapestries to gleaming trinkets and baubles, the offerings were as diverse as they were captivating. Merchants called out to passersby in melodious voices, their wares displayed with care and pride.

The smells that wafted through the air were a symphony of sensory delights. Spices mingled with the scent of freshly baked bread, their fragrances intermingling in a tantalizing dance that made my mouth water. Roasted chestnuts crackled and popped over open fires, their warm, nutty aroma floating on the breeze alongside the sweet perfume of ripe fruit and fragrant flowers.

Eris's sudden change in direction pulled me from my reverie, my gaze following his lead as we approached a magnificent structure nestled within the heart of the Autumn Court. The Forest House loomed before us, its grandeur and mystique commanding attention as we drew nearer.

Surrounded by a wrought iron gate, the house stood as a bastion of elegance amidst the bustling streets. Tall trees swayed gently in the breeze, their branches reaching out to embrace the ancient structure with a sense of reverence. Vines climbed the walls, their verdant tendrils weaving intricate patterns against the weathered stone.

The sight of the Forest House sent a shiver down my spine, a visceral reaction to the aura of power and mystery that seemed to emanate from its very core. It was as if the house held secrets untold, whispering tales of bygone days and forgotten legends to those who dared to listen.

"Wait!" I called out, the urgency in my voice halting Eris in his tracks. His steps faltered, and he turned to face me, a glint of amusement dancing in the depths of his eyes. The sunlight filtering through the canopy overhead cast dappled shadows across his features, lending an air of intrigue to his already enigmatic presence.

"Yes?" he inquired, his voice smooth and tinged with playful curiosity, his smirk hinting at secrets hidden just beneath the surface.

"What's going to happen to me? Where will I stay?" I blurted out, the fierce confidence I had summoned earlier dissipating like morning mist in the face of uncertainty. Nervously, I began to pick at my nails, the weight of the unknown pressing down upon me like a heavy cloak.

Eris regarded me with a knowing glint in his eyes, as if he had anticipated my question long before I had voiced it. "You will stay with me, of course," he replied simply, his voice carrying an air of nonchalance that belied the gravity of his words. There was a subtle confidence in his demeanor, a quiet assurance that spoke of his authority within the court.

I recoiled at his casual response, a surge of apprehension coursing through me. "But what about Beron? Won't he object to having a… a lowborn in his household?" I ventured cautiously, the weight of his father's disapproval looming like a specter in the back of my mind.

"Nonsense," Eris scoffed, his arms crossing over his chest in a dismissive gesture. "You are now a member of this court, and given your condition," he added with a subtle nod towards my abdomen, "it is only fitting that you reside in more suitable accommodations." His words were tinged with a hint of defiance, a silent challenge to anyone who would dare question his authority.

Despite his reassurances, doubt gnawed at the edges of my mind, uncertainty clouding my thoughts like a thick fog. "Absolutely not!" I protested vehemently, a surge of protectiveness coursing through me as I instinctively placed a hand over my stomach, as if to shield my unborn child from the absurdity of Eris's suggestion. "I refuse to stay in your chambers, Eris. It's… it's utterly preposterous."

Eris's eyebrow lifted slightly, his gaze holding a hint of amusement mixed with something darker. "Stubborn, aren't we?" he remarked, a smirk playing at the corner of his lips. "But if you prefer to sleep on the streets, far be it from me to stand in your way."

His words, though seemingly casual, carried a sharp edge that hinted at the depth of his cunning. It was a subtle reminder of his position of power, a reminder that I was at his mercy whether I liked it or not.

I bristled at his thinly veiled threat, my jaw clenching as I met his gaze with a glare of my own. "You wouldn't dare," I challenged, though a flicker of uncertainty danced behind my eyes.

Eris's smirk widened, the glint in his amber eyes turning predatory. "Try me," he replied, his tone dripping with promise and menace in equal measure.

With a frustrated huff, I reluctantly relented, realizing that I was in no position to defy him. "Fine," I conceded through gritted teeth, my hand slipping from my stomach to clench into a fist at my side. "But don't expect me to thank you for it."

Eris's smirk softened into a smirk, his gaze lingering on me with an intensity that sent a shiver down my spine. "Who said anything about gratitude?" he mused, his voice low and husky. "I'm merely extending a courtesy to a fellow refugee."

His words were laced with sarcasm, a reminder that his generosity came with strings attached. It was a stark contrast to the charming facade he wore, a glimpse of the ruthlessness that lay beneath.

I swallowed hard, a bitter taste rising in the back of my throat as I followed him towards the Forest House. It was clear that my time in the Autumn Court would be far from easy, but as I glanced back at the crumbling ruins of the Spring Court behind me, I knew that I had no other choice.

As we reached the grand doors of the Forest House, Eris turned to me with a smirk. "Welcome to your new home, little fox," he remarked, his tone dripping with irony. "Try not to get too comfortable."

My brows furrowed at his words, suspicion creeping into my mind. "What's the catch?" I asked warily, narrowing my eyes at him.

Eris chuckled, the sound sending a shiver down my spine. "Though I do have one condition," he said, his smirk widening into a grin.

"And what is that?" I asked, a sinking feeling settling in the pit of my stomach.

"You must walk with me once a day for the duration of your stay," Eris declared, his tone teasing yet firm.

My jaw dropped in disbelief. "You're joking," I exclaimed, disbelief evident in my voice.

Eris's grin widened, his amber eyes dancing with amusement. "Do I look like I'm joking?" he retorted, his tone challenging.

I narrowed my eyes at him, a surge of defiance rising within me. "This is ridiculous," I protested, shaking my head in disbelief. "I won't be your captive audience."

Eris's expression softened, a hint of something unfamiliar flickering in his eyes. "It's not about being captive," he said softly, his voice uncharacteristically gentle. "Consider it… a chance to explore the court, to clear your mind. Besides," he added with a smirk, "I could use the company."

I bristled at his suggestion, my pride warring with my better judgment. "And if I refuse?" I challenged, crossing my arms over my chest.

Eris's smirk widened, a glint of mischief in his eyes. "Then you'll miss out on some truly breathtaking views," he replied, his tone teasing yet earnest.

I sighed in frustration, realizing that I was fighting a losing battle. "Fine," I relented, though the words tasted like ash on my tongue. "But don't expect me to enjoy it."

Eris's grin widened into a smirk, his eyes alight with amusement. "Oh, I have a feeling you'll come to enjoy it more than you think," he remarked cryptically, before turning to lead the way into the Forest House.

As Eris escorted me to the grand Forest House, his steps were measured, exuding an air of regal confidence that was unmistakably his. His fiery locks seemed to dance with each movement, and his amber eyes held a glint of mischief, hinting at the cunning that lay beneath his charming exterior.

Upon entering my chambers, Eris's gaze swept over the room with a critical eye, a subtle smirk playing at the corners of his lips. "I trust the accommodations meet with your approval, my lady?" he inquired, his voice smooth as honey but tinged with a hint of sarcasm.

I nodded, unable to suppress a smirk of my own at his thinly veiled jest. "They're quite lovely, thank you," I replied, matching his playful tone with one of my own.

Eris's smirk widened into a grin, his amusement evident in the curve of his lips. "Excellent," he remarked, his gaze lingering on me for a moment longer than strictly necessary before turning away to survey the room once more.

As I explored my new surroundings, I couldn't help but notice Eris's watchful gaze following my every move. It was as if he were sizing me up, gauging my reactions to the opulence that surrounded us. I couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to him than met the eye, a depth of character hidden behind his charming facade.

Spotting the single daffodil on the table near the window, I couldn't suppress a chuckle at the sight. It was a quintessentially Eris gesture—playful yet meaningful, a subtle reminder of our earlier exchange. I picked up the note beside it, the elegant script a testament to Eris's attention to detail.

"I will be seeing you real soon, little fox. Wouldn't want you slacking off on our daily walks now, would we?" the note read, the teasing tone perfectly in line with Eris's mischievous nature. I couldn't help but smile at his audacity, the unspoken challenge sparking a flicker of excitement within me.

Setting the note back down, I turned to find Eris watching me with a knowing smirk, his amber eyes alight with amusement. "I take it you approve of my choice of decor?" he quipped, the smirk widening into a grin as he met my gaze.

I rolled my eyes playfully, unable to suppress a laugh at his antics. "It's certainly… unique," I replied, the hint of sarcasm in my tone mirroring his own.

Eris chuckled softly, a sound that sent shivers down my spine. "I'm glad to hear it," he replied, his gaze lingering on me for a moment longer than strictly necessary before turning away to hide the flush that crept across his cheeks.

TAGLIST

@purple-writer8 @defnotlucienvanserra @cherry-cin @julesofvolterra @mirandasidefics @mandziaaa @lilah-asteria @littlestw01f @skylarkalchemist @babypeapoddd

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luxbub · 3 months

Note

hii!!! i really love your stuff :)

i was wondering if i could request a lil something about how peter (parker ofc) would react to reader being self conscious about looks n being "pretty enough" for him? totally cool if it's not up your alley, i just really like the way you write him! thanks <3

peter parker’s beautiful gf

a/n ilyyy, you’re so sweet, fr kicking my feet rn. I really hope you like it even through my obv incapability of reassuring people. I’ve thought about a more spicy outcome of this blurb so if you’re up to it just tell me and i’ll post it<3

pt.2 (nsfw)

“What are you doing?”

Shit.

You were looking at yourself in the mirror, half-naked in peter’s room. The only clothing you seemed to have on was your underwear and a too-big for you t-shirt with some math pun on it—probably peter’s— that reached to your mid-thigh.

“Um, nothing, i was just getting dressed.” You say softly, with a small smile gracing your face and yet that’s enough to convince peter that there’s something off.

Instead of trying to make you talk which would take hours of you going back and forth, he came up from behind you, his long fingers grabbing at your waist and gently massaging the flesh there, as he leaned his head on your shoulder. His back a little hunched from the height difference, but he seemed not to pay attention to it, giving all his attention to you.

“Do you think i’m pretty?”

Silence rung out in the room, as now you were both looking at your reflection in the mirror—more like your reflection. You were starting to get nervous, as peter kept on staring strictly at you from the mirror.

You had no make up and your hair was a mess, why wouldn’t you be nervous? You rarely let people see you without any of those things in check, so the little sleepovers you had with peter still caused anxious butterflies to flutter in your stomach.

“You are so beautiful.” Peter murmured, into the skin just below your ear. He slowly started trailing kisses on your neck, every few seconds words like “my perfect girl” or “pretty girl” spewing from his lips.

Soon he had littered your whole neck and face with kisses, when he turned you around.

“You are the most beautiful girl, you know that?” Peter asked raising an eyebrow. You faces were a few inches away and his breath was fanning your face as your eyes started stinging.

“You’re even way out of my league, you have no idea how many times a day i wonder how am i so lucky? To have the most beautiful and breathtaking and funny and smart—and god, i can go on for hours, but having you in my arms, loving you is the best thing that can ever happen to me. Each time i see you, sweetheart, i can still feel the rapid beat of my heart or the way my breath hitches, just from the sight of you. Each morning that i wake up with you by my side, and you’re still asleep, i’m given the gift of just staring at you for hours till you wake up and smile with that cute smile of yours. Every day that i see you, my day is made. I could stare and stare and stare for hours and still wouldn’t be able to find ugliness on your face nor your body. Cause you’re all beautiful, baby—from the inside out.”

Stunned, once again the room was engulfed by silence, as tears were now freely falling down your face. Peter was sweet, all the time; complimenting you, touching you, comforting you.

But this was different; this was peter confessing, his love, his adorance.

Looking at your tear-stained face, peter took a hold of your cheek in one hand; wiping away the wetness, softly murmuring “you’re my beautiful girl”.

not proofread!

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neteyamslovrr · 1 year

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KXANI - pt.1

summary: you have never fit in with the scientists, but on the night jake was lost in the forest so were you. staying with the people was your one true dream, yet when you are anything but welcome and jake get's to experience the people. you find yourself seeking comfort in tsu'tey

contents: 2.3k words, fem!avatar reader, set avatar 2009, kind of a prolouge, angst (only a lil)

authors note: i hope you guys enjoy this!! i'm really hyped to write a series especially my man tsu'tey. if this goes well definitely will be making a taglist so ask to be on it !!

all parts - next part

┌────── ⋆☆⋆ ──────┐

It was all you had dreamed of since you landed on Pandora. To be with the people, to walk beside them. Well, behind them. You weren’t exactly welcome.

You still remembered the day you were chased through the forest with Jake, jumping into the waterfall on nothing but a will to live. You remembered Neytiri jumping in front of you, saving you both, you had never been more thankful and terrified of someone in your life.

You remembered how a group of men on direhorse threw ropes around your feet then continued to lead to the Hometree. It was surreal, to be with them. To live among them. But it wasn’t how you had hoped.

You hoped to meet with them, learn there culture and be able to retell your findings when you returned to your natural form. Yet, it was nothing like that.

It was because of Jake. He was the warrior of the ‘Jarhead’ clan. God, he was so intolerable but yet he was the one person who could understand your struggles of being with the people because he was right there beside you.

But with all you efforts over the years to learn about the Na’vi, it was nothing in comparison to him being tutored by Neytiri.

On the night when the Olo’eyktan decided to keep you both, it was rather a keep the man and his dog. They thought nothing of you, just another sky scientist. So, you weren’t entitled to Neytiri’s teachings, you were entitled to stare from far away and hope that maybe you could gain a bit of knowledge from observing the pair.

That’s what you were doing right now, crouching down hiding behind a lush shrub looking at the two talk to Tsu’tey as Jake sat in a puddle of mud. Maybe you weren’t missing out on too much?

Resting on the balls of your feet and long fingers keeping the bush apart you peered onto the ongoing scene. But Tsu’tey had disappeared. He must’ve gone off in a hurry, it wasn’t like he enjoyed the company of you two aliens anyway.

“You. What is wrong with you?”

“FUCK!” You jumped in fright falling to the ground looking up at an unimpressed Tsu’tey from above you. Your heart felt like it was beating out of your chest as you tried to regain your composure, shying away from the looming figure.

“Go home. You will not embarrass yourself like that there.” You desperately wanted to go back to your human form, but it wasn’t worth it. This, what you were experiencing was ground-breaking to your studies. Plus, Grace would skin you.

Pushing yourself off the ground, brushing the dirt off your grazed knee your stared up at him. How do you even respond to him? He was terrifying. Such a powerful figure it seemed stupid to stand up to him.

You were no Jake. You wouldn’t ridicule the future leader, and you were no ‘warrior’. You were truly just a useless being to them. Nothing to learn, nothing to gain.

“Tsa’hik has medicine for that. Go” You wished your feet would move. God, this is so embarrassing! Are you really paralysed in fear? Because of Tsu’tey. It’s laughable. You tried to move, but all you could do was stare into his unimpressed eyes and wish your link failed so you could escape this hellhole. “Are you ill?”

“No.”

“Then why are you not moving?” Sometimes you were grateful you learnt Na’vi so you could have more in depth and intellectual conversations with the people. This is not what you imagined your conversations would be.

“No. I am.” Tsu’tey scoffed at you. Fuck. What if you just died. Didn’t come back. Met Eywa and apologized for the inconvenience.

“You alien, should go. Fix whatever is wrong with you.” Yet he wasn’t leaving. You pleaded that he would leave in a huff, upset at stupidity. But he still stood there!

“I am afraid of you.” It was a meek whisper. Something you should never of said as your heart beated aggressively against your ribs as if it was trying to escape its chamber.

Tsu’tey let out the heartiest chuckle as he stared down at you. Crapcrapcrapcrapcrap. Oh how you wished your feet weren’t bolted into the ground. He was genuinely amused. This was easily the funniest thing that had happened to him recently. And it was definitely going to be a story he was going to retell later on.

“So are children alien. You are like a child.”

“Thankyou.” You sneered up at him, still too embarrassed to meet his harsh gaze.

“Do you know where Tsa’hik is?” He tilted his head, his long braid falling over his shoulder as he peered down at you.

“I do not.” You tried to shovel down the shakiness in your voice, you could definitely cry right now.

“Of course, you don’t. Because you don’t belong here. I will take you to Tsa’hik. I would do it for a child.” He motioned for you to follow him as he rode off towards the base of the Hometree. “Hurry up alien child!” He laughed at his jokes as he pointed to you as he looked at other Na’vi also giggling at you as well.

What the fuck is your video log going to be today. ‘Got made fun of! Great find!’ This sucked! While Jake is learning the way of the people, you’re the people’s newest comedy act.

Dragging your feet to the Tsa’hiks room you were ushered to sit on a woven colourful mat in the middle of this section of the tree. Adorned in decorative items and many medicines and herbs you found yourself being stared down by Mo’at.

“She grazed her knee falling from a squatting height Tsa’hik.” Tsu’tey still managed to find a way to make fun of you even when he was talking to a superior.

Mo’at scoffed at you, mumbling something under her breath you did catch a few words. But they’re not necessarily for repeating. “How did you fall?” Mo’at’s intimidating voice caught you off-guard. You didn’t think she would speak to you directly.

“I- um. Tsu-. Tsu’tey startled me.” It was an insane struggled to get out, to admit you had a slightly serious graze because the man chuckling behind you scared you shitless.

“Ah.” She couldn’t find it in her to hide her disappointment apparently. Shaking her head, she applied a pungent medicine to your knee. Surprisingly, it didn’t sting the only sensation was that it was particularly cold for a paste that had been sitting in the open. “Maybe it is useful to do some stuff around the village. We do not welcome demons, especially not parasites.”

Parasite? That is what she thought of you. Oh, that’s just lovely. It felt like your stomach decided to go skydiving and take a miles high leap out of your body.

“Send her back. She is parasite, not needed.” Tsu’tey said this sentence in English. He needed you to understand it, it was his every intention to. It hurt for some reason. Well not some reason he had said something incredibly hurtful. But it was so deserved, so justifiable. Didn’t mean it wasn’t incredibly upsetting to hear.

“We cannot. Jake is an odd dreamwalker. A new demon. She must stay as he does, it is Eywa’s will.” He was silenced at the mention of Eywa. No one would question her intentions not even yourself. “She must learn. You will teach.”

“What?!” Tsu’tey voice boomed out echoing throughout the hollow tree. Is this how Jake felt that night? Because the taste of bile was growing in your throat as you stared at the huffing man. Nononono. He cannot teach, he’ll slit your throat the minute he has the chance.

“She will not be a hunter, no warrior. But she can learn the ways of the people. Teach her Tsu’tey do not question my decisions young one.”

“….yes Tsa’hik…”

Times like these you wished you could go back to your human form. So that your emotions wouldn’t be so easily understood with the swish of your tail and movement of your ears. Still sitting on the floor of the Tsa’hik’s area your ears were pressed against your head and tail swishing quite frequently.

“Go to the river to wash off the paste soon. It will stain your skin.” Mo’at told your before you were being harshly stared at by Tsu’tey. You were yet to understand the way Na’vi must telepathically communicate. It wasn’t even a millisecond after Mo’at finished that she had gave Tsu’tey the look to take you to the river.

You just wished you could understand those looks as well. “Come now. We walk.” He was so assertive it was frightening, the way he commanded you with a single order, you were so respectful of his place in the clan. It did make him like you slightly more than Jake.

“Do not kill her.” Mo’at said harshly to the tall man as you felt that bile rise to your throat again. Kill. What a word!

“I did not plan on it.” Tsu’tey smirked as he wandered off expecting you to follow but you didn’t. You just stared at Mo’at for reassurance. A simple nod to say ‘Yes! Big scary man won’t murder you!’ and she must’ve sensed your desperation.

Mo’at gave a curt nod and ushered for you to go with him with a flick of her hand. With the reassurance of the Tsa’hik you walked with Tsu’tey. Well, behind Tsu’tey to the river.

Every step was awkward. The past on your knee was starting to dry and made cracking noises every time you bent your knee. The crunch of the leaves under both of your heavy feet were the only conversation between the two of you. Eventually, after the short walk. Though it felt long due to the silence. Was finished at the sound of the flourishing waterfall meeting your ears.

It was so powerful, yet so beautiful. It reminded you of something. But nothing was coming to mind so you decided to just focus on the rushing sound as you ended your journey.

“Well done demon. You made it.” His deep voice rumbled in his chest, he thought he was hilarious.

“Thankyou.” You knew it wasn’t a compliment from him, but what else were you to say. Jake would of found a better comeback but you couldn’t.

“You are funny demon.” He said it so nonchalantly but to you it felt as if your heart bursts into a million butterflies. A compliment from a Na’vi felt so special, you felt slightly appreciated. And for it to be from Tsu’tey made it 100 times more meaningful considering how much distaste he has for you and Jake.

“Thankyou Tsu’tey.” Your genuine smile was one he had not seen yet. It was a new expression. Obviously, it looked familiar as it was on the body of a Na’vi but there was something so bright about your smile he couldn’t shake off. It was just something weird he assumed. Demons do weird things especially when they’re in bodies they’re not meant to be in.

“The paste must come off. Or else your knee will be yellow for weeks.” You nodded and hopped into the water. It was about knee height, so you had to bend to move the water over your knee completely.

“Is there a specific way to get it off. It is a foreign medicine to me.”

“It’s foreign because you don’t belong here.” Tsu’tey was just so harsh with his words, they were said with so much power, yet he felt sincere. It was odd. So odd. “Give me your leg.”

“What do you mean? HEY!” Tsu’tey had grabbed your injured leg yanking it into his arms making you twist and fumble trying not to go headfirst into the water.

His long fingers wrapped around your shin as he used his other hand to cup water into his hand and covering the yellow paste. Every time you fumbled trying to balance he let a ‘tsk’ leave his mouth. His fingertips felt as if they were being burnt into your skin as he gripped your leg tightly.

“Stop moving. I am getting the paste off.” He looked harshly into your eyes, his golden iris’ staring straight into your own.

“I’m trying!” it was an exacerbated statement. Tsu’tey saw the way your ears flicked down and you tensed all the muscles in your abdomen to try and stay still.

He felt a pound of his heart call out to him to not be so harsh. But why? You were nothing but a demon. A complacent one, but still a demon. You were better than Jake in his books. You listened stayed out of trouble, didn’t hang out with his future mate. But you were so odd. Nothing like any of the other demons. You were too complacent, too shy, too fearful. It was odd. Maybe that’s why his heart pounded.

With a final scrub the paste was gone and he let you leg down gently, an abrupt change to the quick and harsh picking up of your leg before. “Thankyou Tsu’tey.” He simply hummed in reply giving you a curt nod. This wave of confidence had overcome you. It was like you felt dizzy with courage. “Tsu’tey.”

The way you said his voice was weird to him. It was pronounced so clearly as if it was the only word you had learnt to say in his language. “Yes?”

“I know that..uh never mind.” The confidence vanished as soon as he stared into your eyes once again. His whole body facing towards you, his mind and soul focused on the words coming out of your mouth. It was too intimidating especially now as he waited for you to say more.

“Speak. What do you know?” His deep voice was memorizing, the way his chest rose proudly every word he spoke. He was so intriguing.

“I know that you don’t like me… and that I do not belong here. But I would like to help, I don’t want to be a p-parasite.” The word parasite stung on your tongue, and it was obvious how Tsu’tey winced at the word as well.

Truthfully, he regretted saying it so clearly to you. He only regretted when he saw the way your tail swished and the shine in your eyes. Maybe that’s why he felt crazy. Maybe that’s why he felt kind towards you. Maybe that’s why he agreed so fast.

“Only because you are smart, not stupid like Jakesully. I will teach you demon.” He reached out to grip onto your shoulder. It was a moment you don’t think you’d ever forget. The way his fingers held tightly onto you, his eyes looked so sincere and the usual scowl on his face had disappeared and turned in a stern look on promise.

This was the look of friendship, of teaching, you were about to learn the way of the people.

└────── ⋆☆⋆ ──────┘

reblogs + replies so appreciated, i love you forever if you do yes i mean it i love you

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