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#otherwise this all seems unfair to me

madi-konrad · 1 month

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A DEMON'S NAME UPON YOUR LIPS

It is the curse of ADHD that, at least for me, I'm always running to the next project, and then the next, chasing the new shiny thing. And that has served me well in my creative endeavors, as much as it has stymied me. But I really do think that I caught something special in my first novel, A DEMON'S NAME UPON YOUR LIPS. And thanks to how my brain works, I rarely ever promote it! Which seems unfair for how much effort I put in, alongside my friends who patiently helped me edit it.

It's a sapphic romance between a (newly minted) Duke and the demon she summons. It's a fantasy which takes place in a secondary world loosely based on Victorian-era Europe, though without any of the queerphobic, or even sexist, hatred endemic to its real-world counterpart (or even to our modern day). It's fast paced, gay as fuck, and I poured my heart and soul into it.

I'd be honored if you picked it up; it's only $5.99. About the price of a Latte.

Grab it at the following places:

itch.io (PDF, ePub, and mobi all included!)

Kobo link (ePub version)

Apple Books, Smashwords, and a few others (ePub version)

Amazon (Kindle version)

Barnes and Noble (ePub

Synopsis below the cut:

Lucia is a succubus, a demon with the power to shape the emotions and passions of mortals. Summoned often into the world of Melodia, she takes pride in upholding her demonic contracts to the best of her abilities. She likes to think she does her job well … though a string of recent failures say otherwise.

Talia, the recently elevated Duke of Fallmire, summons Lucia for a simple reason: to pose as her wife and fulfill marital obligations to the satisfaction of Parliament. All to say, just a few weeks of walking around the estate and playing nice with the neighbors before a conveniently tragic death. Quick and easy.

But immediately, Lucia smells blood in the water. Behind closed doors, the Duke plots vengeance upon those who killed her father—and the demon wants in. Revenge, after all, is much more fun … and more lucrative, to boot.

But can Lucia predict how hard she’d fall for the Duke? (Not a chance). And can the Duke find it in her vengeful heart to love?

Spice Level: lightly described nudity, fade-to-black sex.

64,000 words.

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aemondsbabe · 5 months

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Ñuha Zaldrīzes

summary: future & facesitting || discussing wishes for your baby with your husband turns into something more

pairing: daemon targaryen x f!reader

warnings: mature/explicit, 18+ (minors dni!), no use of y/n, afab reader, pregnant reader, oral sex (f receiving), allusions to piv sex, dirty talk, daemon being soft and loving we love to see it, let me know if i missed anything!

word count: 1.8k

a/n: happy day eight of 12 days of smuff!!! surely this counts as future otherwise i'd have them fucking in a spaceship & that just didn't sit right with me

12 days of smuff masterlist!

gif creds to @pedropcl

likes, comments, & reblogs are very appreciated but never required!

🌟add yourself to my taglist to be notified when i post new fics!

A soft giggle bursts from your lips as Daemon’s hand skirts over your large belly yet again, his soft touches tickling your skin as his hand ghosts lovingly over your bump, the delicate lacy fabric of your nightgown bunched around his wrist.

“Okay, okay, so,” you say breathily, finally calming down as his touch seems to settle on your hip, “If it’s a little girl, perhaps Vaenera? And for a little boy… Vaenor?” You suggest, your breath warm against the prince’s neck as you rest your cheek against his shoulder, tucked safely into his side atop your silk covered bed.

“I still think we should name her Visenya,” the blond drawls, tracing soothing patterns into your hip as he holds you against him, “With a nice strong name like that, she will grow to greatness.”

You stay silent for a moment, your eyes locked onto the fluid movements of the sheer curtains that lead out onto the balcony, watching as they blow in the breeze carried in by the Narrow Sea. Daemon can’t help but notice you still against him and he smiles softly when he sees that familiar, far off look in your eyes – always his dreamer.

“Where did you go?” He asks gently, all traces of the usual brash, cocky tone with which he speaks gone.

“Nowhere,” you smile, tilting your head up to peer at him through your lashes, “I was merely thinking of what kind of person this little one will grow up to be.” You stroke a hand over your belly as you speak, your smile only growing as you feel a soft, barely there kick against your palm.

“If they’re even half as kind and gentle as their mother, the world will be a much better place with them in it,” your husband whispers, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. A pink blush blooms across the apples of your cheeks, as it always does when he speaks so tenderly.

“And if they’re half as hard headed as their father, well… somehow, I will love them all the more,” you whisper, laughing yet again as Daemon trails his fingers over your side, tickling you purposefully this time.

“Me, hard headed?” He teases, laughing along with you, “I’m not the one that nearly sent the kitchens into a tailspin this evening when they demanded duck, now am I?” His violet eyes sparkled in the low light of the candles that flickered around the room, a teasing smirk etched across his face.

“That’s very unfair!” You giggle, leaning up to properly look at him. “You know how I am when I’m with child,” you huff, your blush only deepening when you see his eyes darken just slightly as his gaze flits over you, “Especially once it’s this far along; all I want is roast duck and–”

“And lemon cakes at every meal,” Daemon finishes for you, softly smiling, “Yes, sweetling, the entire castle is most aware.” He chuckles.

“Then the kitchens should know to have duck, that’s all I’m saying…” You grumble, sinking back down into his embrace. The two of you relax into a comfortable silence for many minutes, your husband’s breathing so steady and calm that you assume he’s fallen asleep. When he speaks again, his soft voice almost startles you.

“The kitchens did particularly well with the lemon cakes this evening…”

Your eyebrows furrow together at the statement and you lift your head again, meaning to give him a confused stare. The cakes were exceptionally good this evening, but you can’t help but notice the teasing lilt in his voice.

You open your mouth to speak, but the darkness in Daemon’s eyes gives you pause, a breathy, barely audible whimper escaping your lips before you have a chance to stop it.

“However, I can’t help but be in the mood for a much different type of dessert, little wife.” He says lowly, gently pulling you up until your faces are level, careful to be ever conscious of your growing stomach.

“Daemon –” You start, only to be cut off with a searing kiss as he presses his lips to yours. You whimper against his lips, your head already spinning in his embrace as his tongue toys with yours.

“It’s been so long,” he starts, trailing kisses down your jaw and neck, nibbling at one spot that always has you seeing stars, “Since you’ve let me have what I want.”

“H-Husband,” you gasp breathlessly, your nails digging helplessly into his chest as you cling to him, “You had me just this, Gods, this morning for breakfast, if you’ll recall.” You managed to say between whimpers and gasps as he practically feasted on the sensitive spot on your neck, his hands softly kneading and caressing your breasts.

He makes a small, displeased hum before he pulls back to look at you, his dark eyes studying you carefully before a small smirk grows on his lips, “You know very well that’s not what I’m after.”

Your eyes widen just slightly as you finally catch his meaning; you shake your head with a small chuckle. “Surely you can’t be serious,” your smile fades as he holds your stare with a small, unchanging smirk, “Daemon, I’ll crush you!”

“And what an honorable death that would be, sweet wife,” he chuckles, his hands firmly grasping your hips as he lifts you up and onto his lap, your head spins as you feel his already hard length pressing against you through the thin linen breeches he has on, “I’ll be fine, it’s not as if this is exactly new territory for us…” He teases, gently skirting his hands over your belly.

“We’ve never done it when I’ve been… like this, though,” you shyly point out, looking down at your bump.

“Do you really not see how insatiable I become every time you’re with child?” Daemon asks, his voice soft and gentle, “I will only ever have you like this a scant few times. Please, sweetling, let me savor it.”

Biting your lip, you gaze down at him, eyes trailing across his bare chest and shoulders and up the strong column of his neck before they finally settle on his face – the look in his eyes nearly making you gasp. His violet eyes are fixed on you, roaming over your body with so much love and adoration that you feel as if you may melt from it.

Before you even register the movement, you’re nodding.

Daemon’s eyes instantly flick up to yours, sparkling with victory. His hands grip your hips again, gently guiding you up his muscular form as he silently thanks the Seven that you wear nothing beneath your Myrish lace nightgowns. A loud groan practically bursts from the prince’s chest once you’re positioned over his face; he loves being surrounded by you — loves the way your soft thighs bracket his head, the way you position your dripping center perfectly over his mouth, and the way the only thing he sees when he looks up is your belly, swollen with his seed, his child.

If it were up to Daemon, he would happily spend the rest of his days here.

Your chest heaves as you grip the headboard of the bed, your heart hammering in your chest from the anticipation of it. You whimper softly as his hands, rough from so many years of sword fighting and dragon riding, grab at your thighs and hips.

He presses soft, sweet kisses to the inside of your thighs before licking a slow, steady line up your center; you can feel him smirk triumphantly against you as moans and whimpers spill from your lips.

“Oh, Gods, Daemon!” You gasp, voice already ragged as you white-knuckle the headboard. Your thighs tremble with the effort of holding yourself even a fraction of an inch above your husband’s face, something he notices quite quickly. A displeased growl rumbles from his chest, making you pant as it vibrates against your core.

“Fucking sit,” Daemon rasps, tugging you against his mouth, his tongue roughly spearing into you as he grinds your pearl against his nose, hands moving your hips against his face.

Your mind all but whites out as he rocks you against him, nose and tongue working in perfect tandem to send shivers down your spine. Your eyes squeeze shut, frantic moans pouring from your mouth as a fire steadily builds within you.

“H-Husband,” you pant, walls clenching tightly around his tongue as he groans into your heat, “I— Fuck, I’m—!” You can hardly get the words out as Daemon seals his lips around your sensitive bud, suckling it at a maddening pace as his hands move down to cup your ass, kneading it roughly.

Your face flushes at the slick sounds pouring from between your thighs as the prince growls against you, sounding as if he’s gaining as much satisfaction as you are. Your core clenches at the thought, pleasure threatening to consume you.

“Daemon!” You cry urgently, shaking above him, a thin sheen of sweat covering your body. You want so badly to thread your fingers through his hair as you normally would, but you can’t even see his face around your protruding belly.

He groans loudly beneath you once more and fucks his tongue back into you, causing the knot in your belly to pull tightly before finally unraveling. Sparks burst behind your eyelids, your back arching as your whole body tenses and relaxes in time with his movements.

The prince moans appreciatively, messily drinking down your pleasure as you peak on top of him. You jump when one of his hands smacks against your ass, the tingling sting extending your release, the intensity of it nearly making you go mad.

Finally, once your signs of relief have turned into whimpers of overstimulation, Daemon releases you with a pleased hum, helping you shuffle back down his body until you’re straddling his hips once again.

You laugh softly at the sight of him — his cheeks flushed a light pink, hair sticking up at odd angles, and a pleased, self-satisfied grin on his face.

“You look as if you were the one who was ravished, my dragon,” you tease, your heart rate slowly returning to normal as you trace over the muscular dips in his chest and stomach.

The prince chuckles lowly, his violet eyes still dark with lust as he takes in your curves. “Ravishing you is a pleasure in and of itself, sweet wife,” he drawls, smirking as you gasp at the feel of his cock against your sensitive core as he rolls his hips against you, “I trust you’ll allow me to feel it again?” He asks, that all too familiar cocky tone back, as if asking is merely a formality.

Sighing happily, you bite your lip as you stare down at him, the knot in your belly beginning to tighten again as you feel his length pressing hotly to you.

“I believe that can be arranged.”

tagged lovelies: @helloworldiamnotarobot @drakonflames @marysucks-blog @watercolorskyy @valeskafics @iamaegontargaryenwife0 @aemshaircare @1997babyyyy @lovellies @little-moonbeam-666 @blackswxnn @alerisc @fan-goddess @wickedfrsgrl @moonriseoverkyoto @echos-muses @schniiipsel @avidreader73 @marvelescvpe @imawhorecrux

(tags are based on your answers to my google form; if you were mistakenly tagged, please contact me & update your answers on the form! thank you!)

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tiannasfanfic · 11 months

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Physical Affection

Eddie Munson x Reader (Fluff)

Summary: You aren’t a very physically affectionate person…until you are.

A/N: Gender neutral Reader, they/them pronouns used, no Y/N. Not proofread.

CW: None, just pure fluff.

You weren’t an affectionate person.

Well, that’s unfair to say. You could be, just on your own terms. All of your friends knew this and none of them minded, but those times when you were randomly affectionate, it always caught them off guard.

If you ruffle Dustin’s hair, for instance, it’ll suddenly make the otherwise chatty boy speechless. Fixing Steve’s shirt by tucking in the tag for him made the former ladies man blush. That time you helped Robin fix her smudged eyeliner left the poor girl stuttering.

While everyone noticed you were a little more affectionate with Eddie, that was to be expected since he was your partner. But, despite that, they couldn’t help but wonder how things were going with you two. By all appearances, everything seemed fine, but they knew Eddie was typically way more affectionate in relationships than this. He was always all over his partners, no matter if they were one night flings or serious relationships. But with you, he had scaled way back. The only time they’d ever seen you two be affectionate for longer than a brief moment were at parties when Eddie would keep one arm around you protectively at all times. You never seemed to mind though, leaning into his embrace to wedge yourself even closer to him.

It wasn’t until one night at The Hideout that they started figuring out you might be way more physically affectionate than they thought.

The guys were out having a Boys Night when you came rushing into the bar and directly over to their table. Everyone was concerned since Boys Night never gets interrupted unless it’s an emergency.

“Sweetheart, what’s wrong?” Eddie asked, jumping to his feet. “Is everything okay?”

“Oh yeah, everything’s fine,” you said, and everyone breathed a sigh of relief. “I just need you to give me a hug is all.”

Gareth, Grant and Jeff all froze in shock, then exchanged surprised glances.

Did they hear you just right? Did you seriously just ask for a hug? Surly they were hearing things. A combination of the drinks and loud music coming from the jukebox messing up what your words sounded like. That made way more sense than you asking for a hug.

But a warm smile came to Eddie’s face in response, and he stepped closer to you, wrapping his arms around you in a tight embrace. Your arms slipped around his waist as you buried your face into his chest, and you held onto him tightly.

The guys watched for several long moments, gawking as Eddie started to slowly run one hand up and down your back. He softly kissed the side of your head and they could hear him muttering something to you, but they couldn’t make out what. Your body just seemed to melt in his embrace, the tension in your shoulders visibly relaxing as you pressed yourself into the hug.

“What the-“ Gareth started to say, but the words died on his tongue at the glare Eddie’s suddenly shot at him.

Eventually, you pulled back from him just enough for the two of you to exchange a soft kiss.

“All better now, sweetheart?” they heard EddIe ask you.

“Kinda,” you said, nodding. “Do you think I could wait on you at the trailer?”

“Of course,” he replied, then kissed the end of your nose. “You have a key, my house is your house. Make yourself at home, I’ll be there here in a couple of hours.”

After sharing another tender kiss, you finally pulled yourself from Eddie’s arms. You gave the guys a wave and then left The Hideout.

The guys all stared at Eddie as he returned to his seat and took a drink of his beer.

“What?” he asked, finally noticing their looks.

“What the hell was that all about?” Jeff asked.

“Yeah, they never, ever ask to be touched,” Gareth said. “What gives?”

“Nothing,” Eddie said, then sat his bottle down to point at each of them. “And you’d all better just forget you ever saw that.”

The tone of his voice was serious, making them all blink.

“The shit?” Grant asked. “Why?”

“Why? I’ll tell you why,” Eddie leaned forward, a very serious look on his face. “They’ve started sitting on my lap and cuddling every time we’re watching a movie. Completely on their own!”

The guys stared at him in shock.

“Oh wow,” Gareth finally said. “That’s big.”

Eddie nodded rapidly, his curls flying.

“Yeah!” he said. “Huge! So if any of you meathead’s say anything to them and mess this up for me, I swear to God…”

#eddie munson #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson x you #eddie munson headcanons #eddie munson imagines #eddie munson one shot #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson drabble

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hazelfoureyes · 2 months

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The SafeWord is RadioApple (part 3)

Alastor x Lucifer

part 2 male reader is coming, this was mostly written though so I wanted to get it out; reader referred to with they/them pronouns

Part 1 ꒰აMaleReader✧FemaleReader໒꒱

Part 2 ꒰აFemaleReader໒꒱

Part 3 ꒰აAlastorxLucifer໒꒱✨NEW✨

Flint and steel

You made it very clear the two demons had to get along when it came to whatever you three were doing. Which they did! …A great job at pretending to do! They could’ve probably kept it up, until Lucifer tried to humiliate Alastor at a party. Luci says Alastor doesn’t know how to satisfy you? Well Alastor is happy to show him otherwise. Too bad you’re not there….

「Warnings/Promises: DomAlastor x SubLucifer, Reader is not there when it happens, GN reader, choking, hands free ejaculation, anal, bondage?, praise kink, begging, Luci the cocksleeve, Luci the pretty little bird, Alastor tops in every sense, angelic blood kink?, biting, scratching, tentacles briefly penetrate, In every universe Angel appears when he’s not supposed to, Anal Smut sponsored by Ozzie’s Lube; Keep your lust ring happy©」

Minors DNI 👮 ✋

Alastor explained the best he could, that he had wanted to humiliate Lucifer and got a little carried away. In his defence, he had genuinely forgotten he had spoken to Charlie.

“Would I have stayed otherwise?” He asked.

That wasn’t the point.

“I don’t mind your unfounded rivalry. But if you drag this,” you gestured to all three of you, “into it again, we’re gonna have a different conversation.”

His hair bristled. Lucifer opened his mouth, ready to say something mocking, but you cut him off, “That goes for you too. Enough.”

Lucifer pouted, it seemed wholly unfair he be lumped together with Alastor for anything.

Well, not anything. He was finding situations he was quite alright with having Alastor join.

“Peace. Give me peace. Can you do that? Just dial back this bullshit?”

No. “Of course. I’ll be the perfect gentleman as always.”

Absolutely not. “Not a problem! I literally did nothing wrong, so, haha, super easy.”

“Fair enough, Luci.”

Alastor’s edges sharpened. Nothing? He’d been canoodling you in every public space the hotel had.

His body relaxed again. Ah, he understood. Alastor was, to his distress, bothered watching Lucifer make public displays of affection with you. It sent out a message to others that Alastor was being undermined in an established relationship since one knew the details, or that perhaps things had ended already and no one had been informed. That was how it could be interpreted. If direct attacks were not acceptable, then he’d just have to make a louder message.

Alastor’s smile unnerved you. You knew well enough to read his subtle changes in facial expression.

But even with your skill in knowing Alastor better than most, you hadn’t noticed the change in him immediately. It was small at first. A hand on your hip when you were standing side by side. Quite nice.

Pressing into the side of you when sitting on the sofa. Lovely.

A kiss good morning in front of the others. You’d woken up in the same bed, already said good morning. Okay… strange. But appreciated.

Pulling you into his lap in the lobby. “Alastor. An innocent look if he ever could make one. “What’s going on?”

He shrugged, “What ever do you mean?” His smile widened.

How could you complain?

“You’re unusually physical.”

Hands rubbed at your hips, making you nearly jump from his lap, “You don’t like it?”

He knew very well you liked it. He could tell by how much hungrier you were becoming at night. Lucifer now a nearly daily interloper, helping Alastor unravel you under the canopy of his bed.

And it was true. Suddenly having both men showering you in physical affection was creating a new problem entirely.

Alastor’s mouth on your mouth, fingers on your body. Lucifer’s hips snapping against yours, claws gently scratching down your back. You fell asleep satiated and woke up hungry.

What you didn’t see, brain fogged with the stimulation, was how both men glared at each over of your body.

How when you entered a room they were in, Alastor would use his shadows to reach you before Lucifer could. No, you didn’t notice how suddenly Lucifer was always flagging you down and pulling you away from Alastor to discuss hotel topics.

You were quite impressed, a week of peaceful days and lustful nights, not a jab or barb to be seen.

For you, that is. Alastor would spin his mic too quickly, knocking off Lucifer’s hat. At least once his shadow tendrils outright tripped the king of hell as he descended the stairs. Luckily no one of importance was around to witness the brief and only mildly destructive battle that followed.

Not that Lucifer was an innocent party in any of it. He dropped the lobby chandelier on Alastor. Charlie is convinced there's something wrong with the bolts anchoring it to the ceiling now.

When he saw Alastor was just behind him to enter a room, he opened his wings, knocking Alastor backward.

Their favorite form of competition though remained you. Who could illicit the deepest moans? Who made your eyes roll back the most?

Something imperceptible to them, that you were well aware of, was how every night they inched closer and closer. While before you had an expanse of bed to explore between the two, by the end of the week you could barely roll over without brushing against one of them.

You felt quite accomplished. No brawls (that you witnessed), no overly cruel comments (within your earshot), no power plays (that you could perceive).

You said as much to them, everyone gathered in the common area around the bar in celebration of the 100th guest to move in. A modest party, most residents weary of being caught in the crosshairs of Alastor’s and Lucifer’s bickering.

“A toast. To… common ground?” You smirked, happily the thing shared between the two.

“To shared interests.” Alastor offered.

Lucifer, rarely one to drink, eagerly rose his drink, “To my Kitten!”

Alastor’s glass shattered in his fist. “Oops. Husk?”

It should have been an omen to you. But you laughed it off, a little broken glass wasn’t so bad considering the alternative; them choking each other out on the bedroom floor.

Perhaps the week's events had you too relaxed, quickly finding yourself drunker than you could recall in recent memory. You weren’t alone though. Lucifer’s tongue felt numb in his mouth, the effects of three apple martinis. And while Alastor was a little past tipsy, it was hard to tell with him. He was managing to keep his composure for the sake of one upping Lucifer.

Angel approached both men, “I don’t know which one of yous is the top in this fucked triangle but y’all okay with me takin’ them to their room? They are wasted.”

Alastor opened his mouth, but Lucifer spoke quicker, “Not at all! Thank you Angie.”

Alastor’s head whipped around to face Lucifer, “You really love the sound of your own voice, don’t you?”

“Ha! Said the man who broadcasts his across the Pride Ring. Not that anyone listens to that trash.” Lucifer inspected his fingernails, pretending to not care.

“Very funny coming from you. The tacky circus master who can’t even keep hell safe.” A tinge of static broke through.

Lucifer’s eyes narrowed.

The sound of stations flipping through an AM radio frequency, Alastor’s annoyance clicking through his speech, “Now that I think about it, you can’t keep much of anything at all. Where is your estranged wife, anyway?”

Horns materialized, breath fiery, “You wanna talk about relationships? You needed to tap me in to satisfy your woman.”

All anyone saw was Alastor grab the lapels of Lucifer’s jacket and yank them half way down his arms before both men descended into a pool of shadow that then disappeared entirely.

Lucifer stumbled back from Alastor, struggling to free his arms in the makeshift restraints Alastor had made. His jacket was folded down to his elbows, too tight to roll off and too far down to slip back up. “Just admit it. She needed me because you can’t meet her needs. Your relationship is incomplete without me!”

Alastor’s hands were on his neck before Lucifer could react. Squeezing, Lucifer gasped, eyes immediately losing focus.

His tail wound onto Alastor’s thigh, spade tip tapping twice.

Like a dog trained to a dinner bell, Alastor instinctually loosened his grip, his face not hiding his dismay. Lucifer moaned at the lighter pressure.

No, it wasn’t supposed to end up like this. He had other plans for how to dominate over Lucifer.

Shadow tendrils burst from the floor and tossed Lucifer to the bed, arms still trapped on either side of his chest.

“It seems you need some correcting on how well I can satisfy. Quality over quantity, my liege.” He loosened his bowtie. “And a reminder on who pulls the strings. You were allowed into my bed by me.” His hands came to Lucifer’s hips pulling him up onto his lap, back still on the bed as his bottom settled onto Alastor’s crotch. “You were allowed to enjoy my darling’s company by me.” Alastor leaned forward to hover over Lucifer.

The king of hell was flush from a combination of alcohol and shock, eyes glossy and big. His chest heaved slightly with every breath, mouth hanging open. Alastor brought a hand back to his neck, “Everything you cherish with your kitten was granted to you by me.” His hand began to squeeze, Lucifer’s tail returning to twirl around his thigh.

And there it was. Perhaps the most delicious sight Lucifer could offer Alastor; absolute surrender. Eyes closed, Lucifer fought the urge to roll against Alastor with his hips.

Yes, he hated the radio demon. But, well, hate was so close to passion. And passion could be enthralling. Lucifer had never been choked in a setting that wasn’t literal danger. He imagined for a moment how you felt, how you looked at him when Alastor fucked you while gripping your neck. It looked like it felt good. He wanted to feel it, too.

But he couldn’t possibly ask. Alastor would laugh and say no. Lucifer wasn’t sure his pride could survive that.

Alastor had been trying to find ways to soften his approach to Lucifer, knowing very well that if he could endear himself to the devil like he had Charlie he could increase his influence seven fold.

This wasn’t quite what he had in mind. He wasn’t sure what possessed him to toss him to the bed, it was a strange reaction to Lucifer’s insolence and moan. How many had heard the great corruptor moan like a bitch? How many had pinned him down beneath them? His cock was twitching to life in his lap as he stared down at Lucifer.

It was not what he had planned, but it could be just as effective. More so, even.

Lucifer stared at the back of his eyelids. Alastor stared at Lucifer. Both men made a silent decision.

Alastor’s hand tightened a little more, Lucifer grinding his ass against the other. Replying in kind, the radio demon leaned further over Lucifer, folding the smaller man in half as he ground down into him.

Lucifer didn’t attempt to stifle his moan, hands flexing where they were stuck, wishing desperately to hold onto Alastor’s arm that was gently increasing pressure still.

Every roll of his hips made Alastor’s breath hitch, the reality of who he was going to fuck into his mattress catching a fire in his veins.

Tap tap went his spade tipped tail on the inside of Alastor’s thigh.

“Open your eyes, your majesty.” Alastor leaned down, nose touching nose.

Lucifer opened one eye first, then the other. His pupils were blown. Alastor pressed his erection down against Luci’s own, making the other man clench his teeth.

“Were you listening?” He asked Luci.

A grin, “No.”

Alastor growled, hands both going to Lucifer’s pants, pulling them and the ducky boxers down to his shoes before peeling everything off and letting them fall to the floor.

Luci’s cock slapped up against his stomach, leaking already. He glared, hearing the radio demon laugh.

“You were listening a little, I think.” His hand touched the sticky clear liquid, a strand following his finger as he pulled it back.

“Are you going to take off my jacket?” Luci wiggled.

“Hmm, no.”

He threw his head back, blonde hair losing its usual coiffed shape.

Alastor slotted himself again between Luci’s thighs and began to unbutton the other man’s shirt. “There’s been something on my mind for awhile now.” He said, opening the shirt and revealing his pale chest. “Do you still taste like an angel?” His teeth sank into the shoulder muscle, Luci’s knees coming up and wrapping around his waist.

Dizzying, the rush of pure angelic blood into his mouth made Alastor weak. Golden liquid, sweet as honey and aromatic like fresh sage, dripped down Luci’s skin. The pain was light, Luci’s body thrusting into the empty space between their bodies.

“Touch me,” Luci meant to make it a command but it came out more of a plea.

He briefly considered saying no again, but let his hand wrap around Lucifer’s cock. He didn’t move though, instead letting Luci thrust in and out of his fist.

Alastor was aware how vocal Lucifer was, but he was a little surprised the normally difficult man didn’t even try to hide how good Alastor was making him feel.

Luci was sighing, body unable to stop itself from pushing up and into the warm hand he had been offered. The tongue lapping at his shoulder, Alastor hungry for him, was making him glow. He always enjoyed feeling wanted, being praised, and no praise was better than seeing Alastor’s demonic deer antlers grow above him.

Another bite, higher up now on his neck. Before, just working his shaft inside Alastor’s hand, he now was dragging the head of his dick inside of the grip. Sticky and wet, Alastor’s fingers providing ridges that bumped over his erection.

His own fingers were gripping the blankets, unable to do much else.

With a snap and a small puff of smoke, Lucifer took to the task of preparing himself for Alastor with a small bottle of lubricant. Freshly lubed fingers shifting under his body and stretching down to reach his hole. His thrusting slowed, focus now on prodding gently into himself. The other demon hadn’t noticed, attention devoted to lapping up every errand drop of blood.

With his arms restrained he couldn’t reach well, only a knuckle of his middle finger making any headway.

“I can’t reach.” He whined. Alastor perked up, looking at his face and then down between his legs.

“Ah,” he stared, Lucifer’s finger pathetically entering himself an inch or so. “When did you get lube?” Luci didn’t reply. “Hand it here.”

Lucifer looked a little surprised, which insulted Alastor. “I’m not a monster. I fully intended to prepare you.”

When all Luci did was squint, Alastor shrugged, leaning back over and licking at the dripping blood. He felt Luci’s body jump, one of his summoned tentacles now pressing cautiously into him.

Lucifer helped along the stretching, fingers rubbing the thick lube along the tendril as it pushed in an inch and pulled back a half, in two inches, back one.

This was progressing much better now. Luci’s hands relaxed back at his sides, eyes closing as he tried to let his muscles go slack. Deep breath in, deeper breath out.

Alastor listened and felt the smaller of the two funnelling all of his energy into easing his hole open.

“All this effort for little ole me?” He nipped Luci’s skin, no blood, just for fun.

Lucifer hissed, “This has literally nothing to do with you.”

“Funny, feels like it does.” He tightened his hand around Luci’s jumping cock.

“It’s the alcohol.” A blush he could feel radiating off his face spread from ear to ear. His mind kept flashing back to you. Would Alastor make him moan his name like you did? A prayer into the sheets? A twitch. Alastor’s body always seemed to know exactly where to go on yours. With a little practice, could he be brought to pleasured tears too? Luci moaned into Alastor’s shoulder.

“More,” this time it was a command, and one Aastor was happy to oblige, living shadow pushing deeper into Luci’s body. A groan, long and loud. The burning stretch made his dick weep into Alastor’s hand and onto his stomach.

Was it enough? Ozzie’s advice echoed in his head, “Better to prepare than tear!” a slogan his branded lubricant proudly declared.

His hips began moving again, every thrust up into Alastor’s hand met with a down thrust onto the tendril. Alastor’s hot breath over his neck, clawed hand on his member, tendrils deep in his ass. He felt like he was being swallowed whole by the deer demon, and it felt heavenly. Did heaven know such sensations? How could he suggest Alastor has the 8th sin?

Alastor was patient, uncharacteristically some would say, sighing into Luci’s skin as his angelic blood moistened his chin and lips. Why hadn’t he thought of this before? He had been within biting distance for weeks now. If he had done this while they were mingling around and in you, it could have been seen as a part of the sex. He lowered, pulling Luci’s vest and shirt open wider so he could sink his teeth just above his nipple. Luci gasped, another moan following it.

The tail around his leg tightened, slithering up to his still clothed erection.

“Were you going to get naked or just fuck me through your pants?” Luci felt he was ready, hole soft and pliant.

A hum into his chest, “Was that an option?”

“Fuck you.”

“That is the topic of discussion, sire.”

Sire

Luci whined, eyes rolling side to side, “Hurry up before I change my mind.”

Alastor laughed, “You’re full of jokes tonight. Actually funny ones for once, too.” With the speed of a man with nowhere to be, Alastor leaned up and settled onto his legs. Belt undone and pulled off. Button, zipper, he sat up to drop his pants and underwear. Luci craned his neck up trying to watch, face still pink.

His hand came out and motioned to Luci to hand it to him. The small bottle of lube rolled from Luci’s fingers and down to Alastor’s knee.

Alastor poured a generous amount onto his manhood, hand pumping it along his shaft and reddening head. Luci’s heart was pounding, arms tugging at the jacket that kept him bound. He considered going full demon and ripping the jacket to pieces.

But then his eyes darted down, feeling pressure and heat as Alastor was lining himself up.

Alastor met Luci’s eyes, an unspoken, ‘ready?’

“Go ahead, Allie.”

With no cup to shatter, Alastor’s hands pulled Luci’s legs up and open by the ankles and snapped his hips with one motion into the devil’s slick ass.

Luci yelped, eyes watering. “Asshole!” He cried.

“Much better.” Alastor pulled out nearly entirely before thrusting back in. His eyes clenched, even with the prep he found Lucifer to be nearly painfully tight and insufferably hot. He stopped moving for a second, trying to let Lucifer adjust.

Luci was pouting, fingers wiggling. “Release my arms.”

“No.”

He tried to kick Alastor, but the grip on his ankles was too firm. Alastor began to move again, dragging himself out to the head and then thrusting back in. A different sensation than he was used to, but not a new one.

Lucifer was whining, every thrust back making the king of hell release a pitiful noise. Alastor looked down to the tail on his thigh before picking up his pace.

He dropped Luci’s legs, hands taking his thighs.

“Slower.” Luci groaned, “Slow down.” Alastor stopped, staring at Lucifer. He brought his foot up and pressed it under Alastor’s chin, “I didn’t say stop.”

Insolence.

Alastor rolled his hips forward, so slow and so slight Lucifer’s own hips began to thrust back onto him.

“Just do it right for fuck’s sake” Luci was getting annoyed. He wanted to be fucked, not fucked with. Could the two not be separated from each other?

“You’ve forgotten your manners,” Alastor felt the pull of his body to move, to thrust, to feel that cycle of pleasure let him relax into a simpler mental space. But, well, where was the fun in just chasing physical pleasure? He had the king of hell whimpering in front of him. In that exact moment, he was at the top of the food chain in hell. He wasn’t ready to tumble off that precarious point just yet.

Luci bit his lip, blood dripping down his chin, “Please.”

Alastor bent down to lick the liquid gold from his king’s neck and followed the trail up to Lucifer’s mouth, “Please what?” Taking the opportunity, Lucifer captured Alastor’s mouth with his. At first, Alastor stilled. Sex was one thing, but kissing was an entirely different beast.

But then the blood found it’s way into his mouth, and he pushed his tongue against Luci’s. A fight for dominance like always, both men seeking to feel more than the other. Luci clenched, making himself whine into Alastor. Legs lifting up to wrap around Alastor’s waist, Luci used the other man as an anchor to pull himself on and off Alastor’s too gentle cock. If his arms were free, he’d grip those tall and expressive ears on Alastor’s head.

He found a pace that suited him, refusing to beg.

How was Lucifer still managing to take control? Even bound and receiving, he was the one in charge. Alastor had to tear his body from the sweet taste of Luci’s kiss and reclaim the lead, cock more deeply entering Luci now.

Luci didn’t need deep, he just needed to feel that pressure and pull at his still tight ring of muscle, g-spot not far past his entrance. He knew exactly what he needed and felt allowing Alastor to do anything else was just a waste of time.

But you never seemed to fight or argue. You just relaxed under Alastor. If you were there, you’d stroke Luci’s hair and tell him how pretty he looked on his back.

He decided to stop trying to get the best of Alastor, and let Alastor show him exactly what he promised; how well he could satisfy.

Legs hooked, Luci let his body be rocked on the bed with Alastor’s direction. It’d been so long since he felt so full.

Alastor felt Lucifer relax, soften. He heard his breath start to become heavy and loud. Looking between them, he watched the other’s dick grow harder still.

“Good boy,” he offered. Luci whimpered, twitching around Alastor. Oh, of course. A praise kink. Alastor managed to stop the laugh bubbling in his chest, willing to meet Luci somewhat halfway.

Could he praise the man he was hoping to choke to death not that long ago?

A test, dipping his toes into the water. “You look divine with your legs open, your majesty.”

Luci moaned, erection hopping up.

“And you sound delicious,” Alastor let a hand run down Luci’s chest, small beads of yellow blood forming in the wake of his claws. A hiss, Lucifer’s stomach muscles tightened from the combination of sweet words and painful scratch.

Alastor began to pick up his pace, resting his weight on his hands at either side of Luci’s head to angle himself. He adjusted his hips slightly until Lucifer jumped, eyes rolling back.

Mounting pleasure brought sweat to Luci’s brow, his sounds becoming harsher, raspier. “I’m close, I need your hand.”

Alastor tutted, “You don’t need anything.”

Tears streaked Luci’s cheek, “Are you fucking serious? Do you- ungh,” a moan, a swear, “Fuck. I’ll beg.”

The deer demon, tall and imposing over Lucifer, wanted nothing more than to make the King beg. “No begging yet. You don’t need anything else to orgasm than what I’m giving you now”

A slight panic, Luci crying at what he was sure was just another act of cruelty. But as Alastor moved in him, swollen head rutting against his prostate, he felt his orgasm building to an unstoppable place. Alastor was mindful, only entering enough to keep Luci going.

Claws gripped the blankets, Luci’s hips instinctively thrusting into the air, he fought the urge to hold his breath. “Say it,” fast and low.

Alastor cocked his head, not sure what Luci was asking for. A deep blush took over the entirety of his pale face, “Tell me I can— nngh,”

“Ah,” Alastor giggled, “Cum, Lucifer.”

Alastor slowed his hips, a moan escaping as Luci’s balls and asshole tightened and trembled.

Luci came over his stomach and chest, waves of pleasure racking his body.

It was a sight Alastor was admiring; sweaty and bloody and shaking. It looked like Lucifer was melting. His smile widened, eyes darkening as he picked up his thrusts.

“W-wait,” Lucifer’s legs tightened around Alastor.

Alastor dropped to his elbows, chasing his own high now. Eyes open and flitting around the image beneath him. Flush cheeks, sweaty skin, Lucifer was panting and moaning. No double tap yet.

“You sound like a bitch in heat, your majesty.”

Lucifer’s face screwed up, body overstimulated and sensitive.

“Now, you can beg.” Alastor sat back up, pulling Lucifer’s ass into his lap and thrusting up, dick buried to the hilt as he let Luci’s soft walls massage at his member.

Luci’s hands tensed, looking up his body to where they both connected, Alastor’s cock bulging his lower stomach, “For what?”

“For me.”

Alastor’s face was covered by shadow, eyes glowing red down at Lucifer. Tears still drying, eyes watery, Lucifer shook, “Please,” he felt embarrassed, somehow even more naked than nude. Alastor was still nearly fully dressed, a fact Luci’s mind was just registering. “Please cum, Alastor.”

His head fell forward, eyes wide and smile shaking. The King of Hell, the greatest of the sins, was begging for Alastor to dirty him. Alastor had done it, euphoria flooded his brain. His nails cut into the soft flesh of Luci’s ass as he pounded into the smaller demon.

Lucifer was gasping and grunting, softening cock rolling around in his own seed. He just wanted Alastor to cum and let his body rest, “Cum already, please cum inside me. Please, Plea—,” Luci was being used as a toy, just a cock sleeve for Alastor and he liked it.

He felt Alastor’s cock grow inside him before his hips slammed into him once, twice, three times then bury himself as deeply as he could. Luci felt the warmth spreading in spurts, Alastor still rocking slightly without withdrawing any. He couldn’t see the other demon’s face, red and black hair shrouding the expression Luci so desperately wanted to watch.

Lucifer’s body went limp, Alastor pulling out already half soft and sitting back on his legs.

Pitiful. Soft and leaking, if Lucifer was a king Alastor felt like a God.

Finally, Alastor felt like he’d bested Lucifer, truly topping the most powerful demon in his own domain.

Meanwhile, Lucifer didn’t care. He felt closer to you, feeling Alastor’s cum drip out was a shared experience. He wanted to see you, to nuzzle into your neck. The only way to enhance his afterglow was to have it reflected off your smile.

Alastor was undoing his shirt when the door creaked open.

“So did you get the venom out of your system or…?” You slurred, “My bed is too empty. Can’t sleep.”

Alastor’s head near snapped with how quickly he turned, Luci propping up on his elbows and leaning around Alastor to stare wide eyed.

Alastor considered launching himself directly into the sun. Lucifer wondered if he opened his wings fast enough if he could launch Alastor directly into the sun.

“They uh—- tried to cuddle but I didn’t wanna die so I brought them here… maybe— maybe a worse idea.” Angel was slowly closing the door. “You should really lock these doors.”

Unholy fire singed Angels face before shadows slammed the door shut with such forced the walls shook.

You curled up beside Lucifer, nuzzling into his neck, “Pretty baby Luci. You’re like a fancy little bird.” In your foggy state of consciousness, you were immensely proud of how the two had taken your request so seriously.

Alastor’s hand came to cover his face, watching through his fingers as Lucifer looked lovingly at you, who was already half asleep.

“Under the covers, dear,” he gestured at you, “You, shower.”

Lucifer nodded and began wiggling down the bed so he could stand, you rolled until you hit pillows. You both in unison sighing, “Clean sheets.”

༻Masterlist༺

∰ Summoning the Horny Little Deer Cult (general tag list):

@cxrsedwxrlds , @nonetheartist , @tsunaki , @janchei , @wettiny-in-smutland , @moonmark98 , @hoebihoeshi , @pansexual-opera-house , @polytheatrix , @lorddiabigmommymilkers , @backinthefkingbuildingagain , @harley2223-blog , @coffee-colored-hopeless-romantic , @poinappel , @midnightnoiserose , @spookieroz , @missmidorima , @ivebeenthearchersstuff , @downbadforfictionalppl , @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx , @sleepylittledemon , @aether-th3-enby , @dontfuckbutimfab , @breathlessaura , @aperfectidiot , @certainlygay , @jth12 , @star-kujo-platinum ,

@ivebeenthearchersstuffn, @rubyninja1 , @simphornies , @alleystore , @readergirlstuff , @berry-demon , @chirimeimei , @fairyv-ice , @olive-frog , @thonethatflies620 , @tiredkiwiii , @ilikemyteawithmilk , @whateverlololo , @psipies , @howabouticallyou , @roxxie-wolf , @ive-no-idea-what-to-call-this , @fizzled-phoenix , @fjorjestertealeaf , @phobophobular , @surusurusuru , @mariaclarade-la-cruz1 , @whateverlololo , @simplyonehellofanotaku , @xixflower , @i-am-nonbinary-bean-deal-with-it , @roxxie-wolf , @a-case-of-attachment , @multifandomfanatic02 , @watereddownmilk , @raynerrold , @crazii-saber-wolf , @valkyrie-expeditions , @bontensbabygirl , @sillyb0nez , @oo0lady-mad0oo , @jazzmasternot , @pseudobun , @fraugwinska✨, @alitaar , @straows , @alastorssimp , @angelicwillows

🏹Alastor stalkers: @celestial-vomit , @amurtan ,@valkyrie-expeditions

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sprout-fics · 9 months

Text

Poly TF141 x Omega! Reader Headcanons

(Poly TF14 x F! Omega Reader)

(Part Nine: The Proposition)

Tags: Omegaverse, Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Hidden designations, Alpha! John Price, Alpha! Simon 'Ghost' Riley, Beta! Kyle 'Gaz' Garrick, Omega! John 'Soap' MacTavish, Omega F! Reader, Group dynamics, Poly TF141, Slow burn, Courting rituals, Heat cycles

Masterlist

“I want you to help me with my next heat.”

Soap’s spoon drops into his oatmeal, sending splatter across the table

You ignore him, focus on Price and Ghost on the other side of the table you’re all gathered around during communal breakfast, having waited to speak until everyone has had some semblance of food and coffee

Price’s hand clasps the handle of his mug in a white-knuckle grip, a rare look of shock passing over his face. Likewise, Ghost seems taken aback, gaze wide enough under his mask you can see the whites of his eyes

The silence is deafening.

You wonder, for a moment, if you misspoke

Courting was one thing, but to ask for something so intimate was…a significant step in your relationship with the rest of the team. Perhaps one too far

“I…I think I can tell roughly when the next one will be.” You elaborate. “I’m still in my mandatory detox period, but my cycle should be stabilizing…so…” You fidget with your hands in your lap, eyes looking down

“Are you sure about this?” Is the first question Price asks, and you nod, certain of your decision. There’s no other alphas in the world you’d trust more to help you, and if your last heat was any indication, you’d prefer not to endure by yourself

The silence stretches on, and finally Price sighs, reaches for his cigars

“When?” He asks

“About two or so weeks from now, I think.” and your captain nods, eyeing Ghost, waiting for him to object

“Both of us.” Ghost clarifies, and you shrug

“Yes. Otherwise…well…” It seems unfair. You mentally add

“And us?” Gaz adds hesitantly, and you focus on him

“You’re welcome too.” You’re quick to add

That makes Ghost straighten back in his chair, shock blinking through his eyes at this sudden bravado of yours, a sharp change from your cautious allowance of them into your heart

You squirm, a little uncomfortable, waiting for them to say no

“Hen.” Soap offers quietly, and you turn to the only other omega in the group, seeing his blue eyes gaze at you comfortingly

“It’s…a lot. With two alphas.” He tells you in consolation, still loud enough for the others to hear. Soap, the one with experience in this circumstance, the one who is your packmate, but also your confidant in this regard. “It might be a little overwhelming.”

“Wouldn’t be my first time.” You point out flatly, referencing your original taking by the two alphas all that time ago. Soap snaps his jaw shut, pausing before he concedes with a shrug and a nod

“But…” You turn back to the two alphas and Gaz before you. “There are conditions.”

“Name them.” Ghost gestures, leaning back in his chair similar to Price

“You aren’t allowed to bond-bite me-” and both Ghost and Price look mildly offended you would even have to say as much. “I can back out, and if I do, it changes nothing between us-” and at this Price looks a little more concerned, mostly at the idea that they’d do something to warrant the withdrawal of your consent

“And finally, I want…a um…practice run.”

You swear you can hear a pin drop

“Y-you mean-” Gaz fills in the silence, words tight in his throat, and it takes courage to nod once more, not back out despite the wash of embarrassment that prickles along your skin

“M-maybe not at the same time.” You clarify, ducking your eyes up to glance at the team. “But…just to get an idea?”

“Hell’s bells.” Soap groans beside you, which you try and take as a positive sign

Price clears his throat, drawing everyone’s gazes to him, and he swallows so his adam’s apple bobs

“You’re saying you want to have sex with us.” Ghost declares flatly before before Price can beat him to the punch, an the older man levies a mild gaze at Ghost, who merely shrugs

You’re too busy with your desperately burning face to pay them much attention, not able to offer more than a nod in your embarrassment

The boys are struggling to figure out what to say, you can tell, and there’s a festering, rotten thing that unspools inside your chest in the silence

“Unless…” You venture. “You don’t want to?”

It’s one thing to ask for assistance during a heat. You know that. It’s another to brazenly offer intimacy with all of them at the same time, using your heat as a thinly veiled excuse to crawl your way into their beds

A hand drags you sideways, until you bump against Soap’s shoulder. He huffs

“Ya numpty.” He chides. “Was just waiting for you to ask, was all.”

You squirm, heat prickling along your skin but desire curling deep in your belly, pleased and desperately relieved.

“So…now?” You ask, slightly bolder, and Soap laughs

“Eager.” Price comments, his smoky voice husky, suggestive, and it makes you wiggle a little closer into Soap’s side as his grip tightens on you

“We don’t need to rush things.” Gaz chimes in then, breaking the building unspoken between you all. “There’s time before your heat, we can take our time, yeah?”

You chew your lip at that, and though the temptation to tumble into bed with all of them right now is…promising, you know there’s a weight to Gaz’s words, spoken as you stare into his liquid brown gaze

“Y-yeah.” You manage, ignoring the possible trickle of something wet at your entrance, praying they don’t catch the scent of your arousal before you’ve even been touched.

“Sooo…” Soap drawls beside you, voice playful as he breaks the myriad of emotions swirling in the room. “My room? 8pm? Should I bring lube?”

Gaz barks a startled laugh, and you give a little punch to Soap’s arm, who moans lewdly on purpose like an ass, grinning all the while

“Right then.” Price announces, standing from his chair and looking pointedly at all of you. “We can discuss this more later if necessary, but you-” and he looks at you and Gaz in turn. “Have weapons training, Soap is in charge of rookie drills, and Ghost, you’re needed for intel briefing.”

You all move to your respective tasks with various grumbles of consternation and approval, and it’s only once the team has mostly filtered out that Soap brushes past you, dipping his head low to graze against the shell of your ear

“Offer stands, bonnie.” He whispers there, taking a deep lungful of air that tells you he’s already smelled the slick dampening your folds.

He’s gone without another word, leaving you stiff, staring after him, and desperately waiting for 8pm.

Taglist:

(Please have an 18+ or similar age disclaimer in your bio to be tagged in this fic)

@alicesfracturedmirror @emrzennn @scatter-mind001 @josieguts @angryvengeful @ramadiiiisme @mutuallimbenclosure @waves-against-a-cliff @sunnynomoar @miyabilicious @piratesfromspace @sofasoap @soapskneebrace @writeforfandoms @waltzthegenderfluidpan @ghosts-goldendoodle @cherrycoloredfunk86 @lostagoodcigar @tbrfic @appleschloss @tizylish @misshoneypaper @kkinky @reaper-chan666 @kenma-izhu @shinebright2000 @zalyluvvs @neoarchipelago @essencse @dankest-farrik @mirthlxss @bi-witch-bxtch

#call of duty x reader #cod mw2 x reader #mw2 #poly tf141 #omegaverse call of duty #cod omegaverse #tf 141 x reader #my writing #my fic #x reader

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inkskinned · 1 year

Text

one of the things that's so frustrating is how often the arguments against us are actually happening to us. we said - you need to watch out, this will evolve into allowing fascism into legal statute. and we were told: you're a sensitive snowflake. you're annoying and stupid and have no concept of reality. nobody really believes that stuff.

but it's indoctrination for kids to even see queer people. it's grooming for kids to even be around queer people. it's disgusting to even put rainbows on kids clothes. it's inappropriate, shameful, still-an-argument. like any of this is new - we know already. for you, even seeing someone unashamed is the same thing as "forcing" it onto you. because god-forbid you confront any internal thought you have. because god-forbid you practice empathy. rage is better, i guess. it keeps you pretty.

this has always been the way of some people - a while ago, it would have been "sinful" for my white mom to marry my hispanic dad. once, in the year of our lord 2015, someone told me that "mutts" deserve a woodchipper. that one particular insult stayed with me - not because it was the first or last, but because there was something so unbelievably violent about it that i couldn't figure out how to hold it. the idea that someone is so assured of their bigotry and rage that they would paint this kind of a picture. even jokingly, even with the anonymity of the internet, it kind of centered things for me. a sense that, for some people, their rage burned so unimaginably large that it blocked even the basic fact of my humanity.

at one point, while i still had enough fire in me to get into long arguments, one of the bigots i was "debating" (being harassed by) said: to be honest, it's about the sex, not the love. between you, me, and the four walls of this blue hellsite, i actually didn't really care for "love is love" as the slogan of our community. it seemed so placid, so gentle, so ally-focused. where was the vitriol? where was the hours i spent agonizing over myself? where was the quiet moments of my life, filled with the sound of other people's hatred? this static that settles over everything; even for the action of holding her hand.

the world is unfair. i am an adult, and without the veneer and small-pond syndrome of my teenage years, the slogan has started sounding more desperate. the more places i went, the more people i met. love is love. love is defending him on a rooftop bar. the drink she throws at me goes down into my shoes while i stand there, wishing i had a better retort than what the fuck. love is both of us, keeping our heads down, the black SUV full of frat boys (?) pulled up next to us, howling, for five whole blocks, until we both gave up and had to stick our bare legs into the thicket by the side of the road, giving over into tick country rather than let it go on any longer. love is a lazy spring afternoon, my hand on her belly, the fan spinning overhead. did you hear the whole thing about target?

did you hear about being the target? that's a fun little parallel, isn't it. it almost feels like the game that-is-about-me is being played without-my-participation. someone wants to set fire to my life, and i have to wait for a response from a capitalist institution. i am watching a tiktok where a white woman under white lights complains about adult swimsuits, even though i think a lot of people would benefit from having swimming options that are not "instagram-inspired bikini" or "impossible to move in but otherwise pretty".

sometimes it just seems so fucking stupid. like, just to check, the rage you feel and the hatred - you could really just avoid all of that by minding your fucking business. sometimes (and this is true): it's not about you, and people don't need your permission. like, i don't understand any obsession with sports, but it seems to make other people happy. american football literally results in grievous bodily injury - and yet there are onesies for babies that say future quarterback. i personally don't love it, so i just don't buy that stuff. i walk by it, and don't let it bother me. there have been so, so, so many times that i was told - "so what if he's a little bit homophobic, if you don't like him, don't watch his movies." "so what if they fired her. don't buy their product." "so what if they wouldn't make a rainbow cake. just don't support them."

sometimes i feel the meaning of it scud against my body, an orca whale inside of me, threatening the boat. it is too large to see from my place; this shadow of a thing that dwarfs my petty other-concerns. i need to find a dress for an event, and florida is passing more anti-gay legislation. i need to text my friend back and confirm our plans, and someone is throwing beer bottles to the floor in a walmart because a different case had rainbows on them. it is a long fall, if i look down into it; this sense like the bottom doesn't exist. like i have only ever dipped my toes in.

sometimes i am unbelievably tired of talking about it. it feels like it has become too trite in my own poetry - queer writer complains about the state of the world! how original! - and then something else happens, and i am here again. i remember that it isn't a moment. i remember it isn't a scattered population of cartoon evil-doers, intent on world domination from behind handlebar mustaches. it is a concerted effort of real people with real power who really-do want to see my end. it is a lifetime of dodging the beercan as it sails out of the back of the van. it is a lifetime of not-kissing once we leave the apartment. it is a lifetime of watching someone protest our existence and then, very slowly, giving them the finger. it is a lifetime of holding my friends' hands and hearing the same agony in their life that i lived through. it is us, together, our faces turned upwards, the night sky so vast, milky way overhead like a lacework zipper.

it is a lifetime of staring down woodchippers.

#writeblr #this got away from me #i love you #whereever you are. u are mine. i am yours. i am sorry this is happening

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sensitive-neuvi-enthusiast · 4 months

Text

Painting is.......eroticঞ

➺ Character: Rafayel

➺ NSFW. MDNI.

➺ Summary: Rafayel had a plan. An innocent, date night idea. That turned into something...more.

➺ Content: Hand job, kissing, nipple stimulation, blushing Raf.

➺ wc: 600+

To anyone else, this idea seemed like an excuse just to get your hands on him. But it was innocent! He'd tell anyone. Hell, even you thought he had ulterior motives when he'd posed the idea. With a pout and some whining later, you'd finally agree. The idea? This completely normal suggestion?

Painting his body. Nude.

He knows how it sounds, but truly! His intentions were pure. Rafayel just wanted another way to connect you both. For you to intertwine on a deeper level. And what better way than to strip yourselves of the outside world and only be with each other. Raw. Real.

He was going to paint you too, it was a mutual activity. But all he managed to get out was, "You should paint me naked," and it led to this whole debocal. But, thankfully, with his skill in 'pouting' until you give in', he found himself picking up new paints. Ones safe for skin. Returning to his home, where he found you. Already looking done with said activity. Even though he had convinced you...it didn't seem like you believed him. No matter.

"You know, your cold nature is going to end up bringing a draft in my studio. That'd be very bad for my paintings...then I'd be sad, you wouldn't want that, would you?" He watched with small amusement as you rolled your eyes, walking over and grabbing the paints. Then, your finger sought out the dip in his barely button shirt. Dragging it down the expanse of skin you could see.

"Let's paint."

He found himself swallowing thickly, a dust of red already spreading across his cheeks. To the tips of his ears. His heart beating rapidly in his chest, he was afraid it might explode. Innocent. He reminded himself. This was innocent.

༺༻

He held his breath as the cold of the paint brushed against his skin. Your eyes were glued to him. Focused. As you dipped your finger into the paint again, swirling it around, making unrecognizable patterns on his skin. It was supposed to be...innocent but of course, the first place you'd decided to paint was his chest. Way too close to his nipples. His very, very sensitive nipples. But you knew that. In fact, you knew exactly what you were doing. He could tell by the slight twitch of your mouth when you took notice of the slight rise of his cock. Slow but very obvious until it stood to attention. Leaning just slightly, beads of precum dribbling down the tip.

"Thought this was innocent?" You cooed, moving your paint covered finger to his nipple precisely. Milking a pretty (embarrassing) moan from his lips.

"It was! You were the one who -" his words were cut off by another groan. Your other hand, not covered in paint, grasped his shaft. Giving a tentative tug. "This says otherwise...I've barely begun painting, and you're already hard."

"T-Thats because you're..." he moaned again, his eyes squeezing shut as you gave another tug. "Attacked my weak point. You're being unfair." He hissed, his hips thrusting upwards against his will. "Unfair?" You feigned innocence, giving a few more tugs to his dick. "If anything, I'm being nice for not calling you a pervert for getting hard from this." There was a protest on his lips that died, immediate as you leaned forward. Capturing them. His hands clawed at the fuzzy carpet that lay behind him. But soon, even that wasn't enough. A hand found its way into your hair, pulling you closer as he let you devour his mouth. Hips continued to angle upward, seeking out pleasure. Stimulation.

You let go with a sigh, saliva connecting your lips.

"You're all bark and no bite, Rafayel." You smirked, and he knew then, he was finished. Your hand sped up in ways that he couldn't comprehend as he was left to the mercy of you. Tugging and pulling, teasing every inch until finally he came with a stuttered breath.

Painting himself in a way he hadn't before. With his own arousal.

"Mm, I think this might be the prettiest painting you've ever done."

#lovelies requests #rafayel love and deepspace #love and deep space x reader #love and deepspace #rafayel x reader #rafayel smut #love and deepspace smut #rafayel

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fayes-fics · 3 months

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When The World Is Free: Chapter 9 - Partance

MASTERPOST PREV | NEXT

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader, WW2 AU.

Warnings: A tiny touch of spice... some making out, celebrations and some more late-night confessions.

Word Count: 3.4k

Author’s Note: Multi-chapter fic based on a request by the lovely @amillcitygirl. Please see the masterpost for a synopsis of this story. This is when we find out if their whole gamble pays off... Happy Valentine’s Day! This is my gift to you 🫶 Also, be warned that the rating will increase in the next chapter. 😉 Thanks to @colettebronte for beta reading. Enjoy!

Montivilliers (just outside Le Havre), September 1939

You awaken early to the smell of fresh coffee brewing. A glance into the living room, as you wander downstairs towards the enticing scent, shows the sofa is already rearranged and blankets neatly stowed, as if not slept on at all - a little twinge behind your ribs at Benedict’s forethought around the ruse you shared a bed last night.

Almost reluctant, you enter the kitchen, and there he is, pouring two cups from the cafetière, the sunlight catching the ring on his finger as he does so. Your husband. Benedict Bridgerton. He twists, and you see he is wearing glasses, taking you by surprise. On the table, you spy a newspaper open. You are momentarily embarrassed that you are married to a man you know so little about; you didn't even know he wore reading glasses.

“Good morning,” his greeting is soft but apprehensive.

“Good morning,” you mumble back, taking the proffered cup from him without quite letting your fingers touch.

Guilt eats at your soul as you take a seat, the creak of the old chair as you sit down seeming so loud in the otherwise silent room - guilt about pushing him too far with kissing, guilt about your confession, as if you burdened his sleeping subconscious with an unfair weight. It makes the need to talk about anything else bubble up within you.

“I had an idea,” you break the silence as he takes a seat. He says nothing in response, just looks at you expectantly. “We could pretend our relationship developed long distance. Say that we met through Eloise a few years ago? But were both with other people at the time. Perhaps we wrote to each other and, over time, grew close? I thought we could write some ‘fake’ love letters this morning. Fold them up, make them look a little old and creased, you know, and then exchange? Carry the letters as if we truly sent them to each other. It doesn't have to be many. Maybe 3 or 4? Backdated, of course.”

As you talk, his face lights up. “It’s brilliant!” he enthuses quietly, whipping off his glasses. “It's the perfect explanation! Then it makes sense I rush to Paris to rescue you! And my sister. The outbreak of war made me realise what you truly mean to me,” he spitballs, talking fast, gesturing animatedly. “It would explain our whirlwind marriage too - that we couldn't live another day apart without…. without being together with the looming uncertainty of war.”

His chair drags loudly across the tile as he stands up rapidly, grabs your hands, and hauls you up and into an embrace, lifting you off the ground and twirling around—a spontaneous celebration.

“You are brilliant!” he exclaims fervently, and then your lips find each other impromptu. A kiss that starts as a mere brush to seal the pact rapidly morphs into something else. Before you know it, your mouths are open, tongues tangled, and he is hoisting you higher in his arms, his hands grabbing your thighs, wrapping your legs around his waist so your nightgown rides up to your hips, the heat of his pelvis crushed against yours through thin cotton pyjamas….

And that is the sight which greets the returning homeowners and Eloise.

A loud squeak from Marie has you rocketing apart, sliding down his torso back to your feet, cheeks aflame. But it's too late. There is no way to deny what they walked in upon-–you wrapped around Benedict’s body as you kiss fiercely.

“Wow… I miss that passion,” Jerome wisecracks in a bid to break the tension.

Although she is silent, the look on Eloise’s face is one you won't soon forget—shock, abhorrence but a streak of inquisition, as if taking on new information and filing it away.

You and Benedict both mutter apologies in unison, which seems to charm your hosts even more into good-natured joshing as they unpack croissants and jams from a wicker basket.

“A breakfast for our newlyweds,” Marie chimes with a wink. “I’m sure you need sustenance after a night like yours.”

In some ways, although mortifying, you cannot deny the cinch they caught you in does not exactly hurt the illusion of you being a real couple.

And so you all take a seat and begin breakfast together. Each treat on the table is delicious, and the conversation flows easily.

“You do know Solene will be mad she was not invited to the wedding,” Eloise remarks offhand at one point.

“Pssh! Let me deal with my sister,” Marie counters with an almost stereotypical Gallic shrug and a dismissive chuckle.

—

With a couple of hours until your sailing, you pack the few things you unpacked in the last couple of days and then turn to letter writing as Eloise reads. You sit outside, a delicate breeze over your sleeves as Benedict joins you. You agree on some dates and then fall silent as you pick up pen and paper and compose letters.

Yours don't feel sophisticated, but they feel honest - writing about actual events back home and more recently in Paris to lend an air of believability, interspersed with words of affection, longing, and hope to be reunited. Your final letter is dated the day war was declared, expressing a need to see him as soon as possible.

You have no idea what Benedict is writing, but his intensity and speed impress you, pages seeming to pile up around his elbows as you see glimpses of his elegant, looped script.

“I just have much to say, that’s all,” he responds, somewhat enigmatic when you express your concern that his letters appear much longer than yours.

—

Before you know it, Jerome and Marie are dropping you off at the port in Le Havre, hugging you all so tightly with promises of letters, telegrams, and phone calls. You will certainly miss them and Solene; they have been so welcoming to you, even for such a short period.

Benedict wraps an arm around your shoulder as a porter loads your cases onto a trolley and accompanies you to the boarding queue.

“Just like we practised,” he turns his head and murmurs into your ear so only you hear.

And then he sweeps you into his arms and kisses you, instantly opening your mouth under his, your pulse racing even among the crowd.

“Do you mind?” Eloises hisses, disgust evident on her face.

Breaking the kiss, you giggle and bury your face in Benedict's shoulder as he shoots her his trademark elder brother look of derision.

“Do you want your best friend to come with us to England or not, sister? Because we have to look married and madly in love,” he points out, his arm stroking your back.

“You don't have to swallow her face,” Eloise grouses, folding her arms and narrowing her eyes as she pouts, looking aside.

“The more convincing, the better,” he counters, but their dispute is interrupted by your being called forward to the desk.

After asking for your tickets and passport, the surly young man looks at your passport and frowns.

“Are you planning to remain in the UK?” His ask is terse.

“Yes,” you reply, clear but polite.

“Reason?”

“She is my wife,” Benedict cuts in, that arm back across your shoulders.

“Do you have proof?” the man looks sceptical.

Benedict produces the marriage certificate from a folio in his case.

The man scans the document, his frown deepening. “You got married yesterday?” His questioning tone raises the attention of others nearby.

Your heart leaps into your mouth as a face you recognise materialises from behind a glass office. It's Theo Sharpe - the young soldier Eloise met in the bistro a few days ago.

“Is there a problem here, Jones?” he asks with an official tone.

“These two just got married. I have concerns…”

Theo peers at Benedict and you as if assessing you as a couple.

“What sort of concerns? They look in love to me…”

“We have letters!” you pipe up, nerves jangling.

“Letters?”

“Love letters we have written to each other over the months.” Benedict takes over. “When war broke out, I had to come and rescue the woman I loved. And then I could not resist proposing. And yes, we married yesterday. Sirs, you likely know better than anyone - war brings clarity to a man’s heart like nothing else. I could not go another day without her being my wife…” his speech is reserved but impassioned, and when he is done, he tucks you under his arm, kissing your forehead.

Out of the corner of your eye, you see Eloise frown as he hands over your letters, and you do the same with his from your handbag. Theo takes the pile and unfolds them, his eyebrow rising at something in one from Benedict’s pile.

“Jones, tell me that is not the sign of a man in love,” he tilts the page to his fellow soldier, seemingly pointing to a particular line.

The man coughs and runs a finger into his collar. “Oh… well… yes…” he seems to stumble, his cheeks heating.

What on earth did Benedict write?

“I think we can safely say they are a real couple, can't we?” Theo argues, refolding the letters and handing them back to you.

“Yes, yes, I think so…” the man agrees hesitantly.

“Well then, please issue the lady with the paperwork for residency,” Theo prompts, almost impatient.

You can barely contain the furl of excitement as the man dutifully grabs an official certificate and transfers your details, passing it under an embossing stamp and placing it inside your passport.

“Welcome to the United Kingdom, Mrs Bridgerton,” he smiles tightly as you see Theo shoot Eloise the briefest of winks behind the man’s back.

“Thank you, sir,” you breathe, almost stunned into a quiet silence, as again you are in Benedict's strong embrace.

“Well done, you were perfect,” he assures a few moments later as you walk up the ramp onto the ferry, his arms never having left your shoulders since.

With reality finally setting in, relief and elation radiate from inside - like the sunny day seeping into your being, making you feel the lightest you have felt in weeks. You can't help the grin you shoot him and drop a chaste kiss on his cheek.

“All thanks to you,” you demure as you cross onto the deck, “I owe you my life.”

“You owe me no such thing,” he counters immediately and sincerely. “Your idea - the letters - that is what sealed your future. You are much smarter and stronger than you give yourself credit for,” he adds, his tone ardent, a hand tenderly cupping your jaw as his thumb strokes your cheek.

Again, you find yourself lost in his eyes.

“God’s sake, you can quit the mooning now, you idiots,” Eloise gripes and elbows Benedict unceremoniously out of the way, drawing you into a bear hug. “I’m so happy!” she chimes into your ear.

“Me too,” you reply, laughing joyously, hugging her back as fiercely.

“I may have planned for this,” she winks, withdrawing to pull a bottle of champagne from her bag with a flourish.

And so, as the ferry pulls out of port and enters the English Channel, the three of you raise a toast to France as you watch the shoreline slip away. A kaleidoscope of emotions washing over you - a bittersweet farewell to your all-too-short French adventure, but also excitement and apprehension for the start of something new. A stay in England. And a new husband, well, sort of. For the first time, the future feels completely unwritten in a way that is freeing.

—

When you arrive in Portsmouth that evening, you immediately head for the stately Royal Maritime Hotel by the port. But there is a snag when you get to the check-in desk. The late hour and no reservation means only one room is left—with one double bed.

“I will sleep on the floor,” Benedict offers, ever the gentleman, as you all accept the room, knowing it's likely a similar story in all the other hotels with this many people escaping mainland Europe.

After dropping your luggage, you all head to dinner, which becomes drinks in a local bar, all of you wanting the celebratory mood to last a little longer. You nurse just one drink while Eloise seems determined to drain the port city dry, tipsily wandering off to the little dancefloor in the back room.

At some later point, while Benedict is at the bar paying the tab, Eloise returns, sidling up to your seat and loops her arms around you.

“You know how much I love you…?”

“What do you want, Eloise?” you chuckle, patting her elbow as you let her sway you with her hug.

“I've met someone,” she whispers excitedly, her breath sweetened by brandy, “and I realllllly like him. His name is Phillip. He’s lovellllyyy,” she singsongs.

“That's nice. But what does that have to do with me?” you ask, amused.

“If I were to spend the evening with him, would that be okay? With you?”

“You've never asked my permission to enjoy your previous dalliances, El; why now?” You are finding her thoroughly entertaining.

“Becaaaaause it means you will be stuck alone in a room with my brother,” she spells out. “And no woman should have to endure that,” she counsels with faux gravity, only mildly undermined by her comedic look of horror.

Your stomach vaults at the idea of a night alone with Benedict in a hotel room, but you must school your face to one of casual indifference.

“El, I shared a cottage with him last night; I think I can handle it.”

“Oh yes… and what in God's name was this morning all about?” she suddenly shifts the topic, raising an eyebrow pointedly.

You do your best not to choke on your sip of cocktail. “We saw you all coming up the path. Benedict thought it best for the ruse if we were caught in a compromising situation,” you bluff, waving your hand dismissively, even as you feel your cheeks glowing at the mere memory.

She side-eyes you momentarily but seems to accept it, giving you one more squeeze before bidding you goodnight. Her farewell to Benedict at the bar appears to be a smack on the arm and a warning with a pointed finger—ever the loving siblings. Then, with a flutter of butterflies under your ribs about the night ahead, you and Benedict head back to the hotel.

“Thank you again,” your tone is sincere as he unlocks the room. “If we had only known Theo would be at the port, maybe we wouldn't have had to go through all we did,” you point out wincingly, still apologetic, as he secures the door closed.

“We did what we had to. We were very fortunate he was there today; it was a wonderful coincidence, but we had to prepare for any circumstance. Besides, it is all water under the bridge now. You have your paperwork. You have your residency,” he points out brightly.

“But you had to marry me….” you point out, unable to let it go, guilt still shadowing your heart. “That was a huge sacrifice.”

“I am not the one who had to break a promise to another,” he counters softly. “You had to be the brave one here. You should not think of yourself as selfish. And you should feel free to pursue whatever you want in this world, y/n.”

Something in the choice of words in his heartfelt petition seems oddly reminiscent, but you cannot pinpoint it.

“I will still sleep on the floor,” he adds reassuringly, removing his coat.

“We… we could share…?” you feel your heart pound as you extend the tentative offer.

The look on his face is indecipherable, but you don't miss how his pupils dilate a fraction. “I promise not to kick…” his response is a genial callback to your discussion days ago.

You giggle, feeling that lightness in your being again. “And if you do, I’m sure I could find plenty of rope to remedy that. We are right by a port after all,” you can't help but banter back, gesturing to the harbour outside the window.

His responding warm laugh is like a balm.

He excuses himself to shower, and while he is gone, you unpack some basics. As you are delving in your bag for your hairbrush, the pile of letters Benedict handed you spills out.

Intrigued, you unfold them—curious to know what Theo had seen. The letters are a thing of beauty; you find yourself crawling onto the bed to read them properly. Pages of lyrically crafted praise that make your correspondence seem entirely lacking, more akin to a boring newsletter. You find yourself swept up in reading - lines of poetry, yearning sentiments and a few racier epithets that make your breath catch and your blood run hot.

‘Every night since we met, my love, I dream of nothing but you. Endlessly. I dream of your laugh, your smile, that wonderful little crease on your forehead when you think I am being foolish. You captivate me - body and soul. I dream of that delectable noise you make when I kiss you. I dream of tasting your skin. I dream of you coming apart in my arms, grasping me so tight you leave finger marks on my body. One day, my love, one day…’

You almost jump out of your skin when Benedict reenters the room, freshly showered, his hair in damp curls, sporting a distractingly fitted white t-shirt. You attempt to conceal what you are reading, embarrassed somehow, but it’s too late.

“I was wondering if you would,” he laughs softly when he realises.

“I’m sorry,” you utter, feeling as if you have snooped somewhere you should not have.

“Don't be,” he cuts in, smiling gently.

“How did you think up such poetic stuff?” you query, fingertips tracing almost reverentially over the words. A wistful ache in your being, hoping anyone would ever be inspired to write such an elegy to you one day.

“I just told the truth,” he shrugs.

“You must’ve been in love with whoever has made you feel like this in the past,” you sigh, standing up to put the letters aside on a table, feeling as if they definitely do not belong to you. Conscious of the slim band around your left ring finger, like a guilty weight stopping him from that possible life.

There is a long pause, making you look up at him. He is drawing near, something profound burning in his expression.

“You,” he breathes finally. “You inspired this in me.”

The confession knocks the breath from your very lungs, almost a need to bend double.

“Wh….” you cannot even find enough voice to finish a simple word.

He moves closer until you are almost touching.

“I heard you…” he admits softly, his fingers encircling your wrist, then bringing your hand close to his face. “Last night, when you thought I was asleep…” a plunge of utter dread in your stomach as you realise what he means. Your confession.

Oh no.

“Benedict, I….” but you can't finish. There is no end to that sentence, even in your quick mind.

“So I thought it was only fair you have mine,” he continues, a flicker of a modest but charming smile as he tilts his head to the pile of letters.

Your eyes cut briefly to them before darting back to him.

“Y… you dream of nothing but me…?” you stutter, parroting one of the many memorable lines, a flicker of desire and hope and yearning so strong you can't help but ask.

His smile turns crooked. “Every night…” he confirms, eyes glittering.

“A-all of it?” you can barely utter it, your cheeks heating as you recall precisely what he wrote that he dreams about.

“Every word,” he asserts before his warm lips brush the back of your knuckles.

It's like you are thrown into a hurricane, a hundred thoughts and feelings tumbling, making your breath catch hard in your lungs. But it all converges into one singularity as you stare up into those hypnotic eyes. An overwhelming need coursing through you. For him. A longing that is tart on your tongue and deep in your core. And you are powerless to do anything but grab his neck and pull him down into a searing kiss.

Benedict taglist: @foreverlonginguniverse @aintnuthinbutahounddog @severewobblerlightdragon @writergirl-2001 @heeyyyou @enichole445 @enchantedbytomandhenry @ambitionspassionscoffee @chaoticcalzoneranchsports @nikaprincessofkattegat @baebee35 @crowleysqueenofhell @fiction-is-life @lilacbeesworld @broooookiecrisp @queen-of-the-misfit-toys @eleanor-bradstreet @divaanya @musicismyoxygen84 @benedictspaintbrush @miindfucked @sorryallonsy @cayt0123 @hottytoddyhistory @truly-dionysus @fictionalmenloversblog @zinzysstuff @malpalgalz @panhoeofmanyfandoms @kinokomoonshine @causeimissu @delehosies @m-rae23 @last-sheep @kmc1989 @desert-fern @starkeylover @corpseoftrees-queen @magical-spitt @bunnyweasley23 @how-many-stars-in-the-sky @amygdtjhddzvb @sya-skies @balladynaaa

#benedict bridgerton fanfiction #benedict bridgerton #benedict bridgerton fluff #benedict bridgerton angst #benedict bridgerton imagine #bridgerton fanfiction #bridgerton #bridgerton fluff #bridgerton angst #bridgerton imagine #benedict bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton x female reader #benedict bridgerton x you #benedict bridgerton x y/n #bridgerton x reader #bridgerton x female reader #bridgerton x you #bridgerton x y/n

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randxmthxughts · 1 year

Text

All For You - Neteyam x Ta'unui ! reader (enemies to lovers) - pt. 1

*Ta'unui is the Eastern Sea water clan that was attacked by Quaritch

masterlist

part 2

summary: When Quaritch attacks the Ta’unui water clan looking for Jake Sully, the clan’s Tsahik forces her younger sister, Y/N, to escape and seek refuge from the Metkayina clan. As Y/N deals with the trauma of losing her home, she discovers that she isn’t the only outlander in the village. She develops conflicted feelings for Neteyam but the tensions grow when Y/N finds out that Neteyam is the son of Jake Sully - the man she hates.

genres/tropes: angst, romance, enemies to lovers, friends to lovers, grumpy x sunshine, slowburn

other pairings: Loak x Tsireya, Kiri x Ao’nung, platonic relationships (Y/N x Kiri x Tsireya, Y/N x Jake, Y/N x Neytiri)

warnings: war, mentions of blood, PTSD, trauma, survivor guilt, character near-death experience, slightly aged up neteyam, dialogues are supposed to be in na'vi, not english, lots of side eyes, braids swaying, and neteyam appearing out of nowhere like the batman lol

word count: 30,2k (ik this is insane)

a/n: i’m so sorry because this is so long but i spent about two weeks working on it night and day, and i have never been so hyper fixated on a character before. i would love for this not to flop bc otherwise i might feel a little dumb, so if you enjoy it, please spread some love :) i always go through the reblogs to see if anyone said anything in the tags, so…

the set up is a little slow but bear with me

____

It all happened in a blur. You always believed that in a time of danger, you would be skilled and strong enough to protect your clan. But as you watched the sky demons, disguised as Na’vi, pointing their weapons at your people and burning your homes, you felt like a useless coward. If it wasn’t for your sister’s, Tsahik’s, quick thinking of causing a distraction and pushing you into the water, you would have been dead by now. She sacrificed herself for you to live.

You can’t make out how much time has passed since you finally made it to the unfamiliar reefs, as you collapsed on the sand, breathless and disoriented. You could only hope that you reached the correct destination: the Awa’atlu village. The distant sounds of horns announced your arrival, and strangers started to surround you in a circle. When the Olo’eyktan approached you, you managed to summon the rest of your strength to stand up and greet him.

You’re weak, and judging by his face, you’re sure that the explanation you give him is too vague. You hope that despite your mumbling, he understands that you were asking for refuge to escape from the sky demons. As the villagers around you start whispering, the only thing that comes to your mind clearly is “Jake Sully.” They killed your people, set your village on fire, shot your ilus... All because of Jake Sully.

“Jake Sully,” you repeat in a low whisper, your eyelids suddenly feeling heavy.

“Where is your ilu, child? Did you swim here by yourself?” Olo'eyktan asks, examining you with a hint of worry.

You wince at the mention of your ilu, the painful memory of its death still too fresh. It seemed unfair that you weren’t fast enough to save both of you. You had underestimated the demons, thinking you were too far away when a bullet suddenly pierced through your companion, acute pain reaching you simultaneously through the bond. You ilu did its best to swim through, bringing you to safety before you felt its body sink underneath you with a final shriek. Yet you couldn’t even mourn.

You were still in the open water, alone, unsure of where to head. You screamed as you pulled yourself together and started to swim, pushing through exhaustion and soreness in your muscles. You couldn’t afford to stop until you reached the unfamiliar land. You owed your sister to survive this.

“They killed my ilu,” a sob escapes your throat, your knees suddenly going weak.

“Easy there,” you hear a low voice beside you, as a pair of warm hands snake around your waist, supporting you to stand on your feet. You glance down at the hands, and realize that they are different. Blue-skinned.

“She needs to rest. She must have been swimming for hours,” Tsahik steps out, “What clan do you belong to, child?”

“Ta'unui.”

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

Your first night in Awa’atlu, you’re too weak to get out of bed. The Tsahik had placed you in a small empty marui, close to hers, so she could easily check on you. In moments of consciousness, you catch glimpses of people and snippets of conversations. When they ask you questions about your arrival, you can only answer by nodding and shaking your head.

Ronal, Tsahik of the Metkayina clan, says that you could have died out in the open water. She thinks it’s a miracle, and whispers prayers to Eywa while massaging your muscles with various balms. You can’t protest really, even when the balms start stinging and making your muscles clench and burn.

Tsireya, the daughter of the Tsahik, always remains by her mother's side, carefully observing her actions, and joining her in prayer. You guess that she is the tsakarem. Watching Tsireya reminds you of the time when your sister was a tsakarem, following your grandmother around to learn from her.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

On the second day, you feel better. You gradually regain consciousness and start to move your limbs. Despite the pain and the slowness of your movements, you feel the life return back to your body. Tsireya stays with you even after her mother leaves.

“Are you feeling better, Y/N?” Tsireya perks up at your movement.

“Yes,” you’re surprised by the hoarseness in your voice.

“Don’t worry, your voice will be back to normal soon,” Tsireya finds your reaction amusing.

You’re not a big talker but Tsireya is a pleasant company. You don’t feel pressured to react or reply, as she talks to you about her village and her clan. You can see how hard she tries to keep you distracted from the pain.

“You'll be just fine here. There is even a family of forest Na’vi who joined our clan a while ago,” she says, “You can imagine how difficult it was for them to learn everything from scratch! Oh, but they were so determined!”

Your ears involuntarily perk up, as you listen to Tsireya’s story. It’s really the first thing she tells you that intrigues you. Encouraged by your interest, Tsireya continues.

“You will recognize them right away. They are blue,” she giggles, covering her mouth, “But they have been accepted and are a part of the Metkayina now. I am very happy they’re here.”

A faint memory of blue-skinned hands supporting you reappears.

“When I arrived… Was it a forester who caught me?” you ask.

“That’s right! Neteyam,” Tsireya nods, “He is the oldest son. You might have hurt yourself if he didn’t catch you in time.”

“Neteyam” you repeat to yourself.

Tsireya tells you just a little more about the foresters, until her brother Ao’nung fetches her back home.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

On your third morning of isolation, Tsireya visits you with a girl, who seems to be around her age. It’s not hard to guess that she is a forest Na’vi, her blue skin and yellow eyes giving it away immediately. But there’s something else you notice about her: she has an extra finger on each of her hands. You think back on the demons that had five fingers, and feel a shiver run down your spine. When she notices you staring at her, she hides her hands behind her back.

“This is Kiri, Kiri this is Y/N,” Tsireya introduces you with a smile, “Kiri is from the forest. Remember I told you about the family?”

Kiri doesn’t seem to be as talkative as Tsireya, perhaps even a bit shy. You greet each other but she keeps her distance, clearly still uncomfortable around you. Despite her similarity with the sky demons, you feel like you can trust her. Kiri is strangely beautiful, not like your sister or Tsireya, but there’s something about her that fascinates you. You’ve never really seen a forester up close before, so…

“Is your voice back?” Tsireya grabs your attention, kneeling next to you.

“I think so,” you breathe out, “It’s getting there.”

“Oh, it has gotten much better! I can’t wait to hear it, once you’re fully well. I bet you have a great singing voice,” she beams, and Kiri lets out a chuckle. You can’t help but smile at that.

It takes some time for Kiri to warm up to you. With the Tsahik’s approval, Tsireya took over today’s checkup on you. She knows the order of the balms by heart and works in confidence, while Kiri watches. From time to time, Kiri gives her a recommendation, and Tsireya gladly engages.

“Were you a tsakarem as well?” you ask Kiri.

“I used to be. My grandmother is the Tsahik of Omatikaya,” Kiri sighs with slight disappointment.

“And since you moved here, you can’t do that anymore?” you continue logically. She nods.

“My grandmother had to find somebody else to replace me, right before we left.”

You notice how Tsireya throws a sad look at her but Kiri only reacts with a forced smile. She doesn’t like to be pitied.

“Actually, Kiri’s doing better than all of us,” Tsireya suddenly adds with a proud smile, “Kiri has a special connection with the Great Mother.”

“It’s not a big deal, really,” Kiri protests but Tsireya shakes her head, disagreeing.

“When we were out swimming the other day, we suddenly lost Kiri. We were looking for her for hours and found her asleep at the very bottom. Even the most skilled Metkayina swimmers can’t stay in the water with no air for so long!” Tsireya articulates with her hands to convince you, “And she was completely fine. Oh! And Kiri can also make fish follow her, it’s so funny!”

Tsireya giggles recalling the memory, and for the first time, Kiri joins her.

“You have to show me, I’ve never seen anything like that,” you smile.

“We’ll go together this evening. I know you’ll be fully recovered by then,” Tsireya excitedly claps her hands. Kiri only nods.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

Tsireya was right. By the evening, you have confirmation from Ronal, and you’re free to explore the village with her daughter as your guide. You find that while Awa’atlu is not similar to your village, it’s also not too different. But the water around the island seems calmer than what you are used to. It makes you slightly anxious.

Tsireya tries very hard to make you feel at home. She introduces you to everyone on your way, including her brother’s friends. Among them, you notice another forester who doesn’t stare at you like the locals do. Even when you catch his gaze, he doesn't seem overly curious. Just like Kiri, keeping his distance.

That’s Lo’ak, Tsireya reminds you, the third forest-child. It takes a fool not to catch on the chemistry between her and Lo’ak. The way she talks to him almost makes your teeth hurt, while he gets shy every time he is caught staring at her. But they seem to pretend to be just friends in a social setting.

Now joined by Ao’nung, his friends and Kiri, you all go swimming together. Tsireya and Kiri walk protectively next to you, with the boys ahead.

“Let’s see if you can swim faster than Lo’ak,” Ao'nung teases you, his friends laughing. Lo’ak playfully hits him in the arm.

“She’s from a water clan, you skxawng,” Kiri comes to your defense, and you have to suppress a smile.

“I didn’t mean to anger you, oh daughter of Eywa,” Ao'nung continues to tease, pretending to kneel in front of Kiri, “Please have mercy on me!”

Kiri rolls her eyes, and shoves him, as she walks ahead. You catch Ao'nung watching after her, and exchange a knowing smile with Tsireya.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

Swimming helps you regain strength in your body and in your mind. Just the way you noticed, the water here was calmer than back home, relaxing the soreness out of your muscles. This was going to be your new home. Maybe it wouldn’t be as bad.

Surprisingly, the boys’ teasing doesn’t bother you. While Kiri jumps to your defense ever so often, you think it was more of a distraction than anything else to you. As the sun starts setting, you float on your back, watching the sky, the painful memories slipping away. Your moment of peace is interrupted by shouting coming from the shore. Your ears perk up at the sound of your name, and with a hope that it might be someone from your village, coming back for you, you quickly turn to look. But it’s not. Instead, you see a tall blue-skinned Na’vi, waving you over.

“Y/N! Tonowari wants to see you!” he shouts again.

“It’s Neteyam, come on,” Tsireya passes by you, swimming to the shoreline. You follow her.

Once closer, you can see Neteyam more clearly. He greets both of you with a warm smile, his intricately braided hair swaying around, as he moves.

“Father wants to see Y/N?” Tsireya asks, as she gathers her long hair to squeeze out the water.

“I saw him on my way over here,” he says, his soft gaze lingering on you, “He wanted me to get the ‘new girl’ to talk to him.”

Unlike his brother, Neteyam seems to be more intrigued by your presence, his gaze sweeping over your features, one by one, as if trying to memorize them. While it’s not as intrusive as others’ staring, you find his attention to be way too forward. You protectively cross your arms on your chest.

“I’m Neteyam, by the way,” he offers you a formal greeting, that you’re forced to reciprocate.

“Y/N.”

“I guessed so,” he chuckles, like it’s the most obvious thing you could have said, “Everyone knows about you.”

Tsireya interrupts your exchange by gently pulling you by your wrist.

“Come, Y/N, I’ll walk you to our home,” she smiles, then throws a look over her shoulder, “By the way, Lo’ak is currently getting talked to into sneaking out at night to swim with Payakan.”

You see Neteyam’s face change, as his warm smile gives way to anger, and he turns on his heel, heading towards the water.

“Lo’ak!” you hear him shout before diving in. Tsireya giggles beside you.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

When you first sit down in front of Tonowari, you can’t help but feel dwarfed by his intimidating presence. So you’re grateful when Tsireya asks if she can stay in the room with you. Tonowari’s gaze softens, unable to deny his daughter, and Tsireya gives you a reassuring smile before blending into the shadows.

You’re not surprised that he wanted to talk to you. Sure, he was aware of what had happened from your first interaction, and from Ronal, who gathered more information while you were under her care, but he wanted to clarify every detail. You take a deep breath and begin to recount everything.

Tonowari rarely interrupts you to ask questions but for the most part he simply listens with unwavering attention. You see his expression change from understanding to concerned, the more he hears.

“Was there any warning to their attack?” he frowns.

“Nothing,” you shake your head, trying to get rid of the painful memories, “My theory is… whoever they were looking for, our village was the first one to suffer. We heard nothing from the neighboring clans, so I’m guessing it’s only because we are on the very eastern coast.”

“You think they’re moving from east to west?” he asks. You nod.

“It’s why I came here, really. I think your village is quite far from ours.”

Tonowari hums, deep in thought. You sit in silence for a while, another reason nagging at you. You’re not sure if you need to tell him this but you do.

“And because I used to hear about your village. My sister and I lost my mother when we were kids but we knew that she wasn’t a local back home,” you hesitate before continuing, “My sister thinks she would have relatives from here.”

“It’s not impossible,” Tonowari nods his head, “We heard many stories of Na’vi from different clans mating and moving across the islands. We might even find someone from your mother’s family.”

You hear Tsireya’s soft gasp, clearly the thought of it appearing more intriguing to her than to you. You nod to express gratitude but you’re not really sure you want to meet anyone. It’s always been just you and your sister, no one can replace her.

“And you said they were looking for him, huh?”

“Jake Sully? Yes, he’s the reason they attacked us,” you answer, feeling your face flush with anger, “They had weapons, and were shooting anyone who resisted or tried to run. Then they started to burn our homes, repeating his name over and over again. There was also a human kid with them who translated.”

Tonowari’s face falls so suddenly, you would have thought that he has been hiding Jake Sully himself this whole time. You hope that wherever that man is, the sky demons find him before they can reach you. Tears begin to well up in your eyes. Tonowari notices and leans in.

“Don’t worry, child. We do not want war, but if they come here, we will be protecting our land and our Na’vi. Including you,” he hesitates before patting your head, “You’re one of us now.”

You lean into his touch, allowing him to slightly mess up your hair.

“For now, let’s keep this to ourselves, so that there is no panic. I have to think.”

You take that as a signal to stand up, and quickly wipe your eyes before Tsireya can see.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

That night you can’t seem to fall asleep. It feels lonely in your marui, and you start considering asking to be moved to a more crowded location. You turn on your mat a few times before catching a movement of two shadows on the other side of the wall. You sit up alerted, looking out. Eventually voices catch your ear.

“Lo’ak, if you don’t come back right now, I will wake up dad,” somebody whispers.

“He doesn’t care anyway, he’ll only get mad at his favorite,” you hear Lo’ak, and see one of the two shadows disappear.

The other shadow stands still, still in front of your wall. You don’t have to guess that it’s probably his brother Neteyam, whom you met earlier.

“Psst,” you hear his voice, his shadow moving.

And again. He moves closer to the entrance of your marui, as you stare in silence. What does he want?

“Y/N? Are you asleep?” you hear his very apparent accent.

“What?”

Your glance falls to his figure now leaning against the entrance to your room. He gives you a sheepish smile.

“What do you want?” you squint to make out his features. His eyes and freckles glow in the dark and you notice his ears perk up, as if he’s excited.

“It’s Neteyam,” he gestures to himself.

“I know,” you’re annoyed. You know who he is, does he think you can’t see him?

“Oh, right. I just didn’t want to scare you, so I…”

“Starting with ‘psst” certainly didn’t help,” you bite, “Shouldn’t you be checking on your brother anyway?”

“Technically, I can’t do anything except wait. Then, if it gets suspiciously long, I follow him,” he grins like it’s the funniest thing.

You stare at him quietly, wondering what he's doing in your room, in the middle of the night. Neteyam shifts uncomfortably under your gaze.

“Uh, right. Sorry if we woke you up,” he scratches his head, “I was going to check on you anyway, just didn’t mean to at this hour.”

“Why would you check on me?” you frown.

“I thought you might like someone to talk to you, about moving and stuff.”

“I can talk about it to Tsireya, I’m fine.”

“I know, she’s nice,” Neteyam crouches down, to bring himself on your eye level. He looks embarrassed, “But she thought it would be a good idea for me to talk to you.”

“Why?”

“Because we’re both new here. You see, my family and I moved here a few months ago -”

“I know,” you interrupt him.

“And I get what you’re going through.”

This frustrates you. According to Tsireya, Neteyam is the son of the sixth Toruk Makto. She didn’t tell you much but they left their clan on their own, they wanted a fresh start. As far as you can tell, you and him had nothing in common. You were forced out of your home and had to give up on your life without a choice. How can he get what you’re going through? He has a family. You have no one.

“Just because we’re both outlanders doesn’t mean that you have to pretend to relate to me, Neteyam. We’re not the same,” it comes out more aggressive than you intended. You notice his ears lower, along with his gaze, “I don’t need a forest boy teaching me the way of water. You’re not my savior.”

Neteyam’s face falls, like you hit a cord with your words. But he didn’t mean to offend you, he only meant good. From the moment he saw you, he thought he recognized something familiar in your expression: longing for home. So when Tsireya suggested one of the foresters befriending you, he thought that you would easily get along. Right now, though, this seemed like a horrible idea.

“Not trying to be a savior, just a friend,” he mumbles, standing up, “Maybe I’ll see you tomorrow.”

You scoff, as Neteyam walks out without a glance back.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

The morning is disturbed by the loud sounds of horns, announcing something important. You quickly walk out of your marui to find groups of Na’vi heading towards the center of the village. Tsireya told you that it’s where her father calls for meetings. When you spot Kiri, moving along, you join her. She’s holding hands with a kid.

“Hey, Y/N, this is Tuktirey,” Kiri gestures.

“Tuk,” the kid corrects with a smile and greets you.

“Nice to meet you,Tuk,” you smile back. Judging by her skin, you guess that Tuk belongs to the family of foresters.

“So, should I be worried?” you ask Kiri, motioning to the Na’vi in front of you. It’s really a little crowded for your liking.

“Not sure,” she admits, “These announcements confuse me, I can’t tell when it’s good or bad thing. Often it’s nothing bad though, don’t worry.”

Despite Kiri’s reassurance, you approach the center with a feeling of worry. The feeling in your gut is confirmed as soon as you catch a glimpse of Tsireya with a troubled look on her face. You notice her holding someone’s hand. Blue, five fingers. You can’t see him but you’re sure it’s Lo’ak. When she meets your eye, you mouth to her.

“Is it bad?”

She shakes her head in disappointment. It’s very bad, you think.

When Tonowari clears his throat and steps into the center, everyone falls silent. He keeps it brief, retelling about the attack of the demons on your village. Tonowari suspects that it’s only a matter of time before the sky demons attack again, so everyone must be prepared. It is now prohibited to be alone in unsafe areas, going out in the open water, or too deep into the trees.

You feel knots forming in your stomach, when panicked questions pour on him.

“The Metkayina needs to be prepared for any outcome, even war,” Tonowari raises his voice again, “Start proofing armors, repair your weapons. Always be on the lookout.”

“This is crazy,” Kiri whispers to you, “I can’t believe that we escaped here to live in fear again.”

It confuses you. You knew that her family moved to live with Metkayina but Tsireya didn’t tell you why. It is bizarre now that you remember that Kiri’s father is Toruk Makto. Why would he leave his home? You make a mental note to question her about it once you’re alone.

“Kiri, are we going to leave again?” Tuk tugs at her sister with a sniff.

“Mawey, Tuk,” a gentle voice replies instead, as a hand slips around Tuk, caressing her cheeks, “Tuk, Tuk, Tuk.”

Your eyes follow. It’s a tall beautiful woman with bright yellow eyes. You can’t shake off the feeling of how familiar she looks.

“My mom,” Kiri says to you, “Neytiri.”

Right. She looks very similar to Neteyam. Neytiri’s eyes flicker to you, and she graces you with a smile. You bow to greet her.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

Once dismissed, you and Kiri fall into the same pace. You don’t talk but you instinctively follow her to the beach, where a group was seated, working on their weapons. Tsireya, Lo’ak, Neteyam, Ao'nung, and Ao'nung’s friend Roxto. You and Kiri sit with them, closing the circle. Sensing that the silence is caused by the same reason you’re feeling anxious, you follow their example and take out your knife. You didn’t have a polishing rock like the others, so instead you focus on reattaching the loosened up string to the handle. You feel Neteyam’s watching you but once you catch him, he looks away.

Kiri meddles with her belt, deep in her thoughts, and you can tell she’s just as anxious as you are.

“Okay, I’m going to say what I think,” Kiri breaks the silence, grabbing everyone’s attention, “This is not good, right? There’s something else they’re not telling us.”

Tsireya’s eyes snap to you but both of you remain quiet.

“No shit, Kiri,” Lo’ak mocks her.

“Shut up, skxawng,” she reaches forward to slap him.

“Hey, you two,” Neteyam gently pushes Kiri away from his brother.

You notice how the younger siblings shoot him an annoyed look but calm down anyway. Last night, Neteyam didn’t seem to hold much power over Lo’ak but right now it appeared that he had some sort of authority. It’s like the possibility of danger made the dynamic between them shift.

“Nothing’s going to happen, they’re probably lying so that the youngsters stop sneaking out to the forest at night,” Roxto breaks the silence with a snort, then looks at you for support, “Come on, if it was that serious we would be probably doing much more right now.”

There’s some truth to his words, you think. Tonowari did not even come close to explaining how dangerous it could get. Taking measures, like staying within the perimeters of the islans, is hardly something that would keep you safe. Deep in your thought, you continue tightening the string. Neteyam shoots you another glance, and when you look back up, he pushes his polishing stone towards you. You nod at him in appreciation, as you take the tool.

“It’s because of your conversation yesterday with my father, right?” Ao'nung suddenly asks, turning to you. Tsireya tsks at her brother but you sense it is too late.

“Y/N? What do you know?” Kiri adds, concerned.

You sigh, feeling their eyes on you, examining your every small movement. You can almost hear Tsireya’s quiet gasp, as you open your mouth to answer.

“Look, I’m not supposed to tell you this, so keep it to yourself… It’s bad. The demons had many powerful weapons, it took them minutes to burn down my whole village. I don’t know how strong the defense can even be to keep them away. It’s going to be an unfair fight.”

“What do they want? The islands?” Ao'nung pushes for more information.

“They’re looking for a man, who they think is hiding in a water clan,” you answer, noticing how everyone’s ears perk up.

“Do you know who he is?” Lo’ak asks.

“Lo’ak, don’t -” Tsireya tries to interrupt him.

“His name is Jake Sully,” your voice turns with anger, “I’m not sure what he did to them but they were set on killing him. And killing anyone who’s protecting him.”

Dead silence hangs over you, and you suspect that there’s something they’re not telling you. The forest-siblings hang their heads, and you notice Tsireya squeezing Lo’ak’s hand.

“Wait, so they’re looking for your dad,” Roxto turns to Kiri, “They’re looking for you.”

“Your dad?” you turn to Kiri, “Is Jake Sully your dad?”

Kiri nods, almost ashamed. You feel your throat hurt, as realization washes over you. You escaped exactly where Jake Sully was. It was his kids now sitting in front of you, in their new home, enjoying their care-free life, while your village was burned down to the ground.

“It’s your dad!” you feel anger escalating. You stand up, “I’ve lost everything because of him! The demons thought we were hiding him but he was here all this time!”

“Y/N, it’s the demons’ fault,” Tsireya stands up too, trying to calm you down, “He only wanted to keep his family safe, he doesn’t want war.”

“We didn’t want war either, but here we are,” you throw your hands in the air, feeling your body shake out of resentment.

“My father has done nothing wrong,” Neteyam stands up as well, his voice low.

“Your father is wrong for hiding here, while the other clans are at risk of being wiped out!” you’re so frustrated, you wish this was a joke they were playing on you.

But why isn’t anyone agreeing with you? You look at their faces for support but no one dares to speak. Lo’ak keeps his head hanging, and Kiri storms off without a word. A chuckle of disbelief escapes from your lips.

“I guess the great Toruk Makto isn’t that great after all,” you throw bitterly. Neteyam clenches his jaw.

“Y/N, don’t say that. He just wants peace,” Tsireya starts again.

“We all want peace!” you protest.

“You think it’s so easy, huh? You think he’s hiding?” Neteyam raises his voice at you, “He’s not to blame for their vengeance!”

You hiss at him, more angered. How dare he protect the man who caused all of the chaos? How can they ignore the fact that soon enough they will be losing their homes just like you did?

“It is easy!” you hiss again, “Let him go out there and face them alone, before they burn down this village too!”

“That’s unfair, I’m not losing my dad,” he growls.

“I lost my home!”

You’re not sure how things escalate this quickly but one second you’re at a distance growling at each other, and in another instance you lunge at him, catching him off guard. Neteyam falls on his back, as you hold him down with your legs but he’s quick enough to catch your arms before you can even touch him. You hear concerned voices in the background but your only focus is punching him.

The two of you snarl, and as you struggle to free your arms from his grip, he flips you over. Your back hits the ground with a sharp pain but it gives you just enough room to kick him in the gut. Neteyam winces in pain, yet quickly regains his composure by pinning you down, this time paying special attention to having your knees locked together.

“Skxawng,” you let out, frustrated.

He doesn’t hit you back but he does just enough to stop you from moving, his skin feeling hot against yours.

“Dude, dude,” Lo’ak runs up to him, putting his arms over his shoulders, “Get off her.”

“Not unless she calms down,” Neteyam hisses, completely unaware of the group of adults headed towards the two of you. You try to move but he pins you down again.

You catch a glimpse of Roxto and Ao'nung chuckling at the fight, while Tsireya covers her mouth in concern. Then, you spot Neytiri.

“Neteyam!” she shouts. Neteyam pauses at the sound of her voice, ears perking up.

“Shit,” Lo’ak whispers, backing away, “Neteyam, get off.”

“That’s right, get off me, you skxawng,” you say, humiliated by the position he put you in.

Defeated and angry, Neteyam shoots you a quick look, before finally releasing you from his grip. You huff out of frustration, as you sit up, trying to recover your breath. By the time Neytiri approaches the scene, Neteyam’s already standing with his head hanging low. Lo’ak stands a little behind, as if to avoid the confusion of who’s at fault.

Neytiri’s eyes run you up and down, then examine her sons, as if trying to piece together what happened. She remains quiet, before kneeling down in front of you, and taking your hand in hers. You’re all surprised by her gentle demeanor.

“Are you hurt?” she asks you, lifting your arm to examine it. Then moves to get a look at your back.

“I’m good,” you shake your head, freeing yourself from her grasp.

“Neteyam,” Neytiri stands up, now turning to her son, anger evident in her voice, “Apologize. Now.”

“Mom, they were just joking,” Lo’ak tries to tone down the situation but she shuts him up by raising her hand.

Without a second of hesitation, Neteyam nods and meets your eyes, before saying loudly for everyone to hear.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“You didn’t hurt me,” you hiss, annoyed.

“Mother, can we go now?” Lo’ak asks.

Neytiri nods, and three of them walk away. Soon enough, you can hear her scolding her oldest son. Tsireya runs up to you, helping you up to your feet.

“Y/N, are you hurt? You just recovered!” she sounds genuinely upset.

“I’m not hurt, he didn’t do anything.”

“I’m sorry that I didn’t tell you about that. I didn’t know,” she lowers her eyes to the ground, “Not until the talk you had with my father.”

“I know, I don’t blame you,” you sigh, “But why would you send him to talk to me?”

“I thought he could help,” she explains, hoping you’d understand, “Lo’ak is not talkative, and Kiri’s hasn’t been taking the change very well. Neteyam’s the only one who likes it here. So I thought he’d be the best to talk to.”

You nod. She makes a good point. But his whole attitude, the pretentious novelty, it pisses you off. Acting tough and proper when his mother is around, but in reality, selfish. He doesn’t care that you’ve lost everything because of his father. He has a new home he likes. And siblings, and parents... You feel jealous.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

You are a good hunter. You have a good aim, and you’re fast. You used to think that you would be a good asset in danger but the way you froze, when you were attacked by the demons, makes you hesitant. What if that happens again? What if you come face-to-face with them and freeze?

The air outside of your room is refreshingly cold. You watch the dark sky hang over the sleepy Awa’atlu. In an attempt to clear your head, you start wandering around the village, eventually stopping at the terrace blending into the beach. Your ears perk up at faint voices, and as your eyes follow, you find two Na’vi by the water, oblivious to your presence. It looks like they are pretending to wrestle each other, letting out occasional laughs. You recall your earlier not-so-pretend fight with Neteyam and sigh out of frustration, taking a seat on the grass.

As one throws the other one to the ground, you think you recognize Neteyam. He laughs, swaying his hair, then gives a hand to help out his companion to his feet. The other Na’vi is taller than him, with broader shoulder, longer hair. Your breath catches in your throat, as you guess who that might be.

“Yeah, that’s him,” you hear a confirmation, and almost jump up.

Lo’ak is standing next to you, his gaze forward.

“Jake Sully?”

“My dad,” he confirms again.

You turn your attention back to the two Na’vi wrestling, and you watch them for a moment. Eventually, Lo’ak sits down next to you.

“Neteyam’s his favorite,” he says, “He’s the perfect son. The mighty warrior.”

“The mighty warrior?” you repeat.

“He likes to call himself that,” Lo’ak explains, “To piss me off.”

“Does it work?”

“Yeah,” he chuckles, “It pisses me off.”

“Why aren’t you pissed off at me?” you turn to face to him.

“Why aren’t you?” he asks in return, “You’re angry at Neteyam but not at me.”

You pause. You’re not really sure why Lo’ak joining you didn’t frustrate you, the way Neteyam’s presence would. Maybe it’s because Lo’ak seemed guilty earlier. He didn’t stand up for his dad, so there must be something both of you agree on.

“He pisses me off too,” you answer, turning your gaze back to Neteyam in the distance, “I don’t like when people pretend to care. Because once something threatens their peace, they really show how they don’t give a crap about you.”

“Neteyam doesn’t pretend about caring,” Lo’ak disagrees, “Sure, he pretends all the time but not when it comes to caring. He cares.”

“Not about me anyway,” you scoff.

Lo’ak falls silent. You got him there, you had a point. Thoughts race through your mind, as you try to comprehend what to make of this. Perhaps you judged too quickly, not knowing the whole story. What if it was your sister? Would you be willing to put at risk the peace of your village to protect her? No, that would never happen. She would face the enemy herself, not even letting you have a say in the matter.

“My father is not a bad guy,” Lo’ak interrupts your thoughts, “I’m not saying that he does everything right but… we’re all he got.”

You don’t react. You don’t really want to hear him justify his dad, make him seem vulnerable.

“He turned down his whole life for my mom. Left everything he believed in behind because he wanted to be with her,” Lo’ak continues, “Even became one of us… He is one of us.”

“Is that why…” you instinctively glance at his fingers, and Lo’ak shifts, “Is it true? Tsireya said that Eywa blessed him.”

He nods. You let out a tired sigh. It’s exhausting to think about it. His father was blessed by Eywa, he is the Toruk Makto. Who are you to disagree with the Great Mother?

“I don’t know anymore,” you admit defeated, “I just don’t think it’s fair… that others get punished. More harm can be avoided.”

“I know,” Lo’ak agrees with you, “But the demons are stronger, they never give up. We woke up to war every day back home.”

You listen to him with curiosity. You don’t know much about their past life but you wonder if the war really was a constant in the forest.

“It’s why we moved, you know?” his voice hitches, “My father knew that they were never going to let us live peacefully, so we tried hiding here instead.”

You hum. You’re not sure if it’s the tiredness creeping up on you, or genuine empathy, but you feel sorry for Lo’ak. He seems to feel at fault for the consequences of his father’s choices. It’s almost like he speaks more to himself than to you. Justifies things to ease his heart.

“Seems like they’re done,” Lo’ak gets up, “I’m gonna go before dad catches me sneaking out.”

You force a small smile, as you watch Jake and Neteyam dust the sand off their bodies. It takes you a while to move from your spot, but not quickly enough, as Neteyam spots you from a distance. He keeps his eyes on you, and you can almost feel your blood boil.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

For the next few days, things change rapidly. You notice that everyone is busy with their chores, rushing, and preparing, the feeling of danger weighing down on them. Tonowari orders for the hunters and skilled fighters to divide into pairs, assigning them to guard the island every night. Divers work on protective armors for their ilus. There is a big shift in the air.

Speaking about these measures to Tsireya gives you an unsettling feeling. You don’t talk about the Sully’s to her, even though they’re constantly on your mind. You just can’t believe that Tonowari agrees to protect them.

Tsireya’s still hesitant to bring them up when you question her about her father’s plans, even though you’re well aware that Jake Sully actively participates in the matters of protection. She doesn’t know that it’s been keeping you up every night. To trust this man to protect you, when he is the reason for the attacks. His name alone forces painful visions of your sister and her mate, crouched down on the sand, with a weapon pointed at them.

“Have you talked to Kiri, since the…?” Tsireya starts hesitantly. You haven’t. It upsets you because in a short time, you had begun to see Kiri as a friend.

“Not really,” you hang your head, “I didn’t want to attack her, it’s just…”

“I’m sure she knows,” Tsireya nods, “She protects her father but she feels guilty too. When she heard about your fight with Neteyam, she kind of scolded him.”

Tsireya bites down on her lip, hiding a small smile. You can’t really help a smile stretching your lips too. You would have loved to see Neteyam getting scolded. Just the thought of it makes you feel a little better.

“I feel bad, it’s not her fault,” you admit.

“Maybe you two can talk it out?” Tsireya asks hopefully.

“Maybe.”

“I’ll let her know.”

Unlike the other siblings, you’ve seen plenty of Lo’ak in the past few days. Mostly because you’re only hanging out with Tsireya, and, well, Lo’ak wants to be around her. It’s silly excuses, when they sneak away, leaving you alone. She even got in trouble for wandering with him around the guarded areas.

Lo’ak doesn’t make you feel awkward. The two of you don’t really talk but neither of you feels pressured to. You like to think that you and him reached some sort of understanding the other night. Partially, you feel bad for him for having Jake Sully for his father, and Neteyam, as his older brother. As a younger sister to Tsahik, you can relate to the pressure of always reaching for, yet never getting it all.

But when it comes to seeing Neteyam in the village... The angry looks that you exchange with him when passing each other just make your whole body ache. You barely hold yourself back from hissing at him. It’s bad. You already had not one, but two people you hated.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

That evening, when you return to your marui, you’re surprised to find Kiri waiting for you. She stands up, as you approach, and the two of you look at each other for a moment before you pull her into a hug.

“I didn’t mean to yell at you, the other day,” you admit, pulling away from her, “It’s not your fault.”

“I get it,” she sighs, “If I were you, I’d be mad. I’m kind of mad now.”

While you dreaded this conversation, it goes quite smoothly with Kiri. You don’t feel judgment on her side for disagreeing with her father. You think it’s unfair that the only person who makes you feel less of an outsider has to be the daughter of Jake Sully.

“I feel angry because I can’t get used to the thought of just sitting here and waiting?” you finish on a higher note, hoping that she can relate, “Because while we’re here, the demons are killing innocent Na’vi. Village by village. It’s terrifying. I just wish I could do something to protect them.”

Kiri nods and stares off into the distance, deep in her thoughts. You can feel the guilt she beares on her shoulders but she fights it to protect her family. Suddenly, she turns her head, yellow eyes glistening, like she has the brightest solution.

“Y/N, how well do you know the islands?” she asks.

“Um, there are about hundreds of them but I know roughly where the settlements."

“So if we wanted to warn them about the intruders, do you think you would be able to map them out and guide us there?”

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

Now that you think about it, you feel like a fool for not figuring it out earlier. Why didn’t anyone?

Sure, news would travel between neighboring villages but you were forgetting that the Awa’atlu was on the very far ends of the islands. And, by the time the others were warned about the possible attacks, there would be nothing left.

When you and Kiri propose the idea of swimming to the islands, and first-hand warning their Olo’eyktans, Tonowari hesitates. Not many in his clan are familiar with the other settlements, especially within the Eastern reefs, and underestimating the time frames could cost him lives.

“We don’t have to warn everyone, just as many as we can,” you plead, “And what if we the close-located clans fight back in unions. Surely, they would respect your advice as the Olo'eyktan.”

“It worked when Toruk Makto did it,” Tonowari hums in agreement, “It would be difficult to unionize all of the islands but there is a better chance of surviving for smaller unions.”

“They at least deserve to know what’s coming, please,” you push further, and eventually gain an approving nod from him.

Quickly, small groups of the best Metkayina swimmers are formed to be assigned for the realization of the plan. While most of them are familiar with the neighboring islands, you’re the one mapping out the Eastern Sea settlements for them. And although Tonowari immediately turns down your offer of joining them, you feel slightly better for at least contributing.

You go over your roughly drawn map on the sand one more time with the final group of three Metkayina swimmers, your goal to ensure that they are aware of the safest paths to approach the villages. The group is gathered around you, listening carefully, and as you talk, you feel someone watching you from afar. It’s Neteyam. You take a moment to refocus before finding the track of your words again.

“Thank you, Y/N, we got it from here,” Sokxot, one of the swimmer says, when you finish up.

You stay to watch as they swim away on their ilus, in your mind, praying to Eywa to guide them safely to their destination. When you think you’re left alone, you’re surprised to find Neteyam here. You frown at him. What does he want? Intimidate you with his staring? You’re taken aback when he decides to approach you.

“Y/N,” his greets you with a calm voice, then points to the map you drew, “This was your idea?”

“Kiri’s,” you correct him.

“Still, you helped a lot,” Neteyam stares at the map, as if trying to memorize it. You roll your eyes at him.

“Guess I don’t like sitting and waiting for danger,”

“I really hope this makes a difference,” he says, sounding almost sincere.

You watch after him as he walks away, and let out a sigh. The two of you were too grown to act like kids.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

On the third day since their departure, two groups of Metkayina swimmers return with updates. Tonowari immediately calls for a meeting, and it's revealed that a significant number of villages have already been warned of the impending danger. The warned clans also started sending out their own swimmers, forming a whole network between the hundreds of villages.

But more importantly, you had the first case of a union between three smaller clans on the Eastern islands that managed to prepare just in time for the attack. Taken aback by the preparedness of Na’vi, the sky demons suffered greatly in numbers. Of course, the clans had casualties, but they managed to force the enemy to back away, and keep their homes safe.

It's the first good news that the Metkayina have heard in weeks, and you can see the happiness on their faces. You feel a sense of satisfaction with what you've achieved, and even Tonowari can't help but sneak a smile as he urges everyone to remain careful and calm.

To celebrate your little victory, Tsireya invites you to swim with her and the rest of her friends somewhere special. You didn’t mind that the Sully’s, especially Neteyam, were joining. You thought you would ignore him and allow yourself to enjoy being a little carefree.

Tsireya takes you to a sacred place - the Cove of Ancestors, where you could express your gratitude to Eywa by the Spirit Tree. Mesmerized by the beauty of it all, you can’t stop looking around. And judging by the reaction of the Sully kids, it’s probably their first time here too. Tsireya excitedly watches your faces, when showing you the Spirit Tree from afar. Underneath the surface of water, its roots glow with unique undertones, breathing in and out.

“Tsireya, this is incredible,” you awe, as she gives you a giddy smile.

“Come,” she waves you over, disappearing under the water.

With Tsireya, Kiri, Lo’ak, and Ao’nung disappear too. Distracted by the sight around you, you fall a little behind, and find yourself not too far from Neteyam. He is not a bad swimmer but he is definitely slow compared to you.

You’re not really thinking about it, when you stay back to watch him. It’s almost entertaining how greedily his eyes take in the surroundings, seeming almost golden in this light. A smile tugs at your lips.

Your skin shivers, as a cool wind wraps around your body. Then you notice it. A single woodsprite appears in the air, flying around you and grazing your skin. You feel blessed to witness a sign of the Great Mother, but as you reach out to gently touch it, it moves away. Your smile fades, when the seed starts floating around Neteyam’s head. Is Eywa trying to tell you something? Maybe you were being too harsh with him.

With another blow of the wind, the woodsprite disappears, leaving Neteyam completely oblivious to what just happened. When he turns around and meets your gaze, your throat tightens. His expression is unreadable. What is he thinking?

“I should probably catch up with the rest,” you clear your throat.

Neteyam only nods, and as you swim past him, it almost seems like you catch a hint of disappointment on his face. You can’t be distracted by the sign right now.

When you reach the Tree and submerge, you find Tsireya, Lo’ak, and Ao'nung already linking their queues to the roots. Trying not to disturb them, you quietly swim to the opposite side, bringing out your queue. From the corner of your eye, you spot Neteyam but you decide to ignore him.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

Words cannot describe how healed you feel, when you open your eyes. As if your inner and outer worlds have finally merged again, making you whole. With a smile, you swim up to the surface to reunite with the rest of the group, ready to share your happiness, when you notice troubled expressions on their faces.

“Did anyone see Kiri before we came here?” Lo’ak asks, and everyone shakes their heads, “Shit, Neteyam.”

“She said she’d swim a bit more before joining us by the Tree,” Tsireya replies.

“Alright, everyone, let’s divide and start looking for her,” Neteyam orders, calling out to his ilu.

It doesn’t take much convincing, as quickly, one by one, all of you get on your ilus and disperse.

Tsireya’s story about Kiri falling asleep in the water resurfaces in your mind. It happened before, right? Kiri is probably fine, you try to convince yourself, but you can’t help the nagging feeling in the pit of your stomach.

As you swim up for a breath, you take a deep dive again, determined to search for Kiri in the depths of the water. Silent prayers to Eywa express your gratitude, when your gaze is drawn to a small figure hidden between tall leaves. Your heart skips a beat as you realize what you are seeing: Kiri's whole body is glowing with an otherworldly light. In all your years, you have never seen anything quite like it.

Noticing that she has begun to violently shake, you quickly swim to Kiri, and gently pull her queue away, forcing her body to go limp. Desperately, you try to get her out of the leaves, but it seems that the harder you try, the tighter they grip her limbs.

Your mind starts racing, and panic begins to set in, when you suddenly see a pair of hands cutting down the leaves around Kiri's body with a small knife. Right, a knife! You take out yours and start helping. With the last of the leaves cut, Kiri's body begins to float upwards. Neteyam quickly wraps his arm around her middle, and signals for you to follow, as he places her on his ilu and swims to the surface.

You race after him, your heart pounding in your chest. As you break the surface, Neteyam’s already positioning Kiri’s body on a flat rock, gently shaking her. You join him, noting how calm and collected he seems.

“Neteyam, there’s something wrong. She was still linked and shaking, when I found her,” your voice breaks.

“Shit,” he curses, and checks for Kiri’s breath.

You watch as he starts performing something strange: Neteyam breathes air into Kiri’s mouth, then starts counting as he presses down on her chest in an unfamiliar rhythm. A wave of fear washes over you, when you notice his hands start shaking.

“Shit, shit, shit,” Neteyam curses again, “Help me, please.”

“I don’t know what to do, Neteyam,” you panic, “She’s not breathing!”

“When I stop pressing, just try to breathe out as much air as you can into her mouth,” he orders, and continues counting.

“Alright, alright,” you try to calm yourself down.

You do your best following his instructions, and it seems to put him back on track too. But as time drags on, and Kiri still doesn't respond, both of you begin to feel a sense of despair.

Just as you're about to give up hope, Kiri moves weakly beneath you, and finally takes a breath on her own. You let out a sigh of relief, tears streaming down your face.

“It worked,” Neteyam’s eyes glisten, as he checks for her breathing.

"We need to take her to Tsahik, right now," you breathe out, and he nods.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

Everything afterwards happens in a blur of confusion. Your heart races, as you nervously pace around Tsahik’s marui, where Kiri is getting examined by a group of strangers: a Na’vi wearing human clothes, and two sky people who arrived on a flying ship. Jake and Neteyam are with them in the room, talking and talking, but you can’t quite understand.

There is a tension in the air when Neytiri returns with Ronal. She raises her voice at them, and before you can even begin to wonder what's going on, the men exit the marui, leaving the women alone. You catch a glimpse of Jake as he passes by you, and for a moment, you feel struck by his presence.

He looks tired and scared, like he has been suffering for a long time now. You recall your conversation with Lo’ak. While in your mind you are convinced that he is the bad guy, seeing him in this state makes you feel a twinge of sympathy for him.

“You don’t have to wait,” Neteyam pulls you out of your thoughts. His words are not necessarily ill-intended, but you still feel out of place.

“I want to make sure she’s alright,” you explain. Neteyam only nods, “What are they saying?”

He falls silent, as if contemplating whether he needs to reveal to you whatever he knows.

“She’s going to be better, right?” your voice hitches.

“Hey, hey,” he crouches down next to you, “Of course, she will. Kiri is very strong.”

It’s only a second of vulnerability showing on his side, before the usual mask slips back onto his face, and you can’t tell what he’s thinking. At all. Both of your attentions are quickly drawn back to the marui, when Ronal steps out. Jake rushes to her side, with Neteyam and you close on his heels.

“She is weak but the Great Mother granted her another chance,” Ronal answers, “Now, she needs her rest.”

“Thank you,” Jake expresses with sincerity in his voice, before disappearing into the marui. From the inside, you hear soft sobs. Neteyam hesitates to take a step, glancing back at you.

“Go in, see for yourself,” you encourage him, and he complies.

At the risk of interrupting their family moment, you sit down slightly far from the marui, waiting. You’re not sure how much time passes, when Jake walks out. You shift uncomfortably when he approaches you.

“Thank you, Y/N,” he clears his throat, as he crouches in front of you, “You saved my daughter.”

“I only found her,” you admit, “If it wasn’t for Neteyam…”

“You did well, you got to her just in time,” Jake interrupts, “Neteyam said that you even helped him with chest compressions.”

“I don’t know what that even was,” you genuinely chuckle. You only guessed it was something borrowed from the sky people.

“Yet you saved her, thank you,” he insists with a small smile.

You look at him, trying to read his face. There’s something in his eyes that suggests he’s being genuine. He breaks the silence again, this time his tone more careful.

“I know about your fight with Neteyam. He didn’t want to tell me the reason but I guessed it was something serious. There’s really not many things to get him to act like that.”

“I can’t possibly agree or understand your decisions,” you remain calm, despite the rushing heat to your face, “I think it’s unfair.”

“I know, I’m not always making the best decisions,” he shakes his head, “And I get why you don’t like me much but I can’t risk losing my family.”

“You don’t have to,” you interrupt, “If you just go out there alone, they’ll stop hurting everybody else.”

“I wish it had been that easy. I don’t even care about my own death anymore, but I just know it won’t be enough,” he seems defeated, “They will come for my family next. Everything that I care for, and more. They did once already.”

“But aren’t you the one they’re looking for?”

“It’s grown beyond vengeance at this point,” Jake shakes his head, “They caught Lo’ak and Kiri once, and Tuk… they had Tuk. If anything happened to them, I don’t know what I would have done. We barely got them out, it was…”

“Must have been terrifying,” you finish for him. You think back to your sister getting caught, held at a gunpoint, and your chest hurts with sudden empathy for him.

As a father, it must be times more terrifying for him to see his kids in the hands of an enemy. It makes sense now: the great Toruk Makto had a weak spot.

“I think I get it,” you nod in understanding, “When they captured my sister... I have never been more scared in my life. It still keeps me up every night.”

“I’m sorry,” Jake sighs, “Do you know if she’s…?”

“Alive? I don’t know. She promised to come looking for me, once it’s safe but it’s been weeks now,” your voice hitches, “When they were about to capture me, she pushed me out of the way, which really pissed them off. Especially their chief.”

“I hope you get to see her again,” Jake reaches out, to pat you on your shoulder. You let him, “It is honorable to sacrifice yourself for the other to live. Eywa will bless her for keeping you alive.”

“I feel like I failed her, hiding here,” you look away in an attempt to hide the tears filling up your eyes, “I should have stayed there.”

“It’s not your fault, kid, you did your best,” Jake gently touches your chin to turn your face back to him. When he notices your tears, his eyebrows knit together in worry, “She would be proud of you.”

A small sob escapes your lips, and you feel ashamed to break down in front of him. You’re caught off guard, when Jake pulls you into a hug. It’s strangely comforting how tight it feels in your throat, as you bury your face in his chest, letting yourself silently cry. You feel him pat you on the back, until you can finally slowly recover your breath.

“Dad?” Neteyam’s voice grabs both of your attention. He leans against the entrance of the marui, looking confused between the two of you.

You instantly pull away from Jake, hanging your head in a mix of strange emotions. It’s not every day that you receive comfort from the very person you thought was your enemy.

“I’ll be right there,” Jake says, standing up, “Do you want to see her, Y/N?”

You nod in gratitude, wiping away your tears before following Jake. As you enter, Neteyam gives you a puzzled look, like he’s trying to figure out what the hell you and his father were talking about. Your eyes land on Neytiri, sat by Kiri’s side, holding her hand in hers.

“How is she?” Jake asks, sitting down next to his mate and pulling her into his side.

“She is going to be better, once she rests,” Neytiri answers quietly, returning her eyes to Kiri, and stroking her cheek, “My child.”

You feel out of place in the presence of the Sully family. Just a few days ago, you thought you hated Jake, and now you find yourself caring for his family.

You suddenly realize that if he knows about your fight with Neteyam, then Neytiri surely knows too. You can't help but wonder if she hates you. Standing there, you feel like an intruder, interrupting their vulnerable moment.

“Y/N,” Neytiri's voice pulls you out of your thoughts, “Thank you for saving my child.”

“You did good, kid,” Jake adds, then turns his gaze to Neteyam, “Both of you.”

As you open your mouth to protest, Neytiri cuts you off with a firm tone.

“Get some rest. You too, Neteyam.”

As much as you want to say something, anything, there's a strange authority in Neytiri's voice that makes it impossible to disobey. It's strange because she reminds you of your mother - strong, stubborn, yet caring. You were never able to disobey your mother.

“It’s okay, kid, you can check on Kiri later,” Jake encourages.

With a grateful nod, you leave the marui. Neteyam silently follows you out.

“Um, I should probably go tell the others now,” he grabs your attention.

“Yes, Lo’ak must be worried,” you agree with him.

Lo’ak wasn’t allowed to be with you in the marui. He was staying with Tuk, until further instructions, whereas Tsireya and Ao'nung got scolded by their mother for not keeping an eye on Kiri, and were sent home right away. Neteyam and you were the only ones who were overlooked in the matter.

“Thank you for helping me back there,” he scratches his head, “If it wasn’t for you, I could’ve lost her.”

“I don’t think I deserve the credit here, ‘Teyam,” you pause.

Did you just call him by his nickname? ‘Teyam? Do you think you’re friends? Shit.

His eyes widen and you catch just a tiniest hint of a small smile before he bites down on his lip to hide it.

“Neteyam,” you correct yourself, “I froze when I couldn’t get her out of those leaves. I can’t believe I forgot about my knife.”

“Hey, and I panicked. But in the end, we kind of made a good team,” he snorts.

“Right,” you chuckle at the irony.

Because you’re both headed in the same direction, Neteyam and you walk together in silence. After a while, he catches your attention again.

“I saw you talking to my father,” he hesitates before meeting your eyes, “Can I ask you about it?”

“You can ask him if you want.”

“So it went badly?” Neteyam guesses.

“No, not half as bad as I expected,” you stop in your tracks, before admitting, “Actually, I think I kind of get it.”

Neteyam only nods but you’re not sure if he really understands the value behind your words. He hopes that it means a change of your perception but deep down, he still feels a little scared. You don’t talk for the rest of the way but you don’t seem bothered by his presence, your thoughts now occupied with the woodsprite you saw earlier. Maybe Eywa was right and the two of you can mend this after all.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

“Y/N,” Tsireya’s soft voice wakes you up. She has a bright smile on her face, “Kiri’s awake! I thought you’d like to see her.”

Together, you make your way towards Tsahik’s marui, already noticing the Sully’s and friends coming and going. Tsireya pulls you along with her, but miscalculates her grip, causing you to bump into someone. It’s Neteyam. You can feel your cheeks flush with embarrassment.

“Mawey, Y/N,” he grins, as he steadies you by your shoulders. You can hear Ao’nungs low chuckle but ignore him.

“Sorry, Y/N,” Tsireya whispers to you.

“I’m fine,” you smile at her, then turn back to Neteyam. He still keeps his hands on you, “Neteyam.”

“Good morning to you too,” he says, finally lowering his hands. Still, you’re too close to each other.

Before things get more awkward, Kiri’s voice breaks the tension. She calls out your name, and you rush to join her by the mat, taking her hands in yours with worry. Kiri weakly smiles in response.

“I promise, I am doing better,” she reassures you, “And for that I have to thank my saviors! You hear that?” she loudly asks.

“I was worried sick for you, and you’re joking,” you roll your eyes at her, but can’t help a giddy smile. You’re glad she’s back to her normal self. You stay with her for some time, questioning her about her health, as she tries to swat you away.

“Out, out, Kiri has to eat!” Neytiri’s voice interrupts your small exchange, “And rest!”

She walks in with a bowl of cut up fruits in her hands, on her way managing to usher out some of the visitors.

“Mom,” Kiri whines annoyedly.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

That night you’re haunted by a nightmare. You’re swimming in the crystal-clear water, the warm sun rays piercing your eyes with a satisfying itch. From afar, you make out the beach which you would recognize anywhere: you’re back home, in your village. As you dive into the depths, you suddenly feel a hand clasping yours but the feeling is familiar. It’s your sister, swimming alongside you.

You smile. It reminds you of the old times, when you were little, spending your time swimming and holding hands with your sister, so none of you gets lost. Suddenly, the darkness engulfs you, making it hard to see. You look up to find a massive cloud forming in the sky, and you try to pull your sister with you to the surface. But she doesn’t budge, instead letting go of your hand with a small smile. Gasping for air, you break the surface, before diving back in for her, but this time she’s even farther away from you. You try to reach her again again and again, but each time the air in your lungs gets thinner, as she slips further away, eventually hitting the bottom.

You wake up, with your sister’s name lingering on your lips. It’s still dark outside, and too early for the morning. To clear your head, you head towards the trees, deeper on the island.

As you push through the dense bushes, you finally reach a small clearing nestled between tall trees. Then bang! All of a sudden someone throws you off your feet, hitting your back against the ground, and you see a familiar face hover above you. He’s so close, you can feel his braids grazing your skin. Neteyam. You growl.

“What the hell?” you slap his chest angrily, but he doesn’t budge, his arms firmly planted by the sides of your face. His knee rests between your thighs, restricting your movement.

“This is a familiar pose,” he smirks, and you roll your eyes at him, “Why aren’t you asleep?”

You notice a headpiece he’s wearing that you’ve never seen on him before. It looks like the ones that guardians assigned by Tonowari wear during their shifts.

“I was trying to clear my head. Why aren’t you?”

“I’m guarding,” he smiles, “This very same area, by the way.”

“You’re a guardian?” you snort.

Neteyam shakes his head amused, swaying his braids over your skin. Almost mocking you.

“Get off me,” you lightly slap his chest again, but he has something else on his mind. To tease you further, he pins your arms, and pushes his knee against you, right between your thighs.

You know that it’s innocent on his side, but your body reacts differently, separate from your mind. You feel blood rush to your face, as your ears, like a pair of wings, suddenly flutter in pleasure. Of course this doesn’t escape his eyes. You can see his pupils dilate, and an unreadable expression covering his face. You want to hide and scream out of embarrassment.

“Please,” you plead, and he pulls away from you so fast, it’s almost like he takes a leap.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to,” he apologizes, keeping a small distance between you.

He’s embarrassed too, you think. He doesn’t meet your eyes, but you can almost see how hundreds of thoughts are rushing through his brain in an attempt to change the subject. You sit up, dusting off your skin in uncomfortable silence, until he finally dares to speak up.

“Do you want me to walk you back?” he scratches his head, “You’re not supposed to be here.”

“No,” your voice is so low. Shit, “I need to clear my head.”

“Did you have a nightmare?” he asks gently.

You stand up, to dust the remains off your back and knees. You feel Neteyam’s eyes roaming over your body.

“I saw my sister in my dream,” you finally answer, “It just confused me more.”

“Confused you about what?”

“The signs. I can’t figure out what Eywa is trying to tell me.”

“Tell me,” Neteyam offers, it’s not an order.

You hesitate. Opening up to him out of all Na’vi? To be fair, you’d rather tell someone who doesn’t care about you, who would just listen for the sake of curiosity, not pity or empathy. But also he looks so sincere and trustworthy. Is the tiredness suddenly affecting your perception of him?

“Well,” you sigh, “Ever since my parents died, I could feel their presence whenever I talked to Eywa. And the other day, by the Spirit Tree, I thought that if my sister were dead, then I’d feel her too. But I couldn’t.”

“And the nightmare makes you think otherwise?”

“Yes. In the nightmare, we were swimming but every time I tried pulling her with me to the surface, to get her out, she wouldn’t budge. It’s like she didn’t want to be saved.”

“A nightmare can be just a nightmare, Y/N,” Neteyam pats your shoulder to comfort you.

“This was different,” you shake your head in disagreement, “I can feel it. I just wish I didn’t get my hopes up.”

Faint voices catch your attention. Neteyam’s ears perk up, as he focuses on the sounds in the distance, suddenly very aware of his surroundings.

"What do you hear?" you ask but he brings his thumb to your lips, shushing you.

“If the other guards hear you, they’ll take me off the duty.”

It feels like an eternity as he keeps his thumb over your lips. He stares off into darkness but all you can do is look at him. You admire how the moonlight highlights his features, his freckles and eyes glowing in the dark. His breathing is slow, strangely calming. You can’t help but think that the headpiece suits him even though it doesn’t prevent some of his braids escaping and framing his face. It’s almost funny how they seem to have a life on their own, swaying from left to right with every small movement he makes.

There is a flutter in your chest, as you realize how handsome he is. Shit. Maybe you’re just tired.

You wrap your fingers around his wrist, lowering his hand from your face, and it finally seems to catch his attention. You let your fingers linger on his skin for a little longer before letting go.

“Your purpose is to get me in trouble, isn’t it?” Neteyam smiles.

“What?” you frown at him.

“First, it was the fighting, now you happen to sneak away to the area I guard, so I get busted?”

“I didn’t intentionally -” you start justifying yourself but he’s quick to interrupt.

“I know, I’m kidding.”

Kidding. You admit that, given your history, it is a little funny. You can’t help but smile back.

The exhaustion seems to creep up on you, as you let out a yawn.

“I am probably going to regret this,” Neteyam mumbles, as if more to himself, than to you, “You know how Kiri sometimes falls asleep in random places?”

“Yeah?”

“Since you don’t want to go back to your bed, you can crash here,” he scratches his forehead, slightly embarrassed, as he points to the patch of grass in front of you.

“You want me to sleep here?” you snort.

“I’m just saying, give it a try. I promise I will be on the lookout.”

You consider it for a second. It sounds ridiculous but the lush grass does seem inviting, softer than your bed. Another yawn creeps up on you. Is it bad that you want to stay here for a while?

“I-I’m not sure I can sleep here,” you admit. Not under his gaze anyway.

“Oh, come on, it’s easy,” he suddenly warms up.

Neteyam stretches out on the grass and waves you over with the biggest grin.

“This is what Kiri does. She just lies down, relaxes, and just like that, she’s off to her dream world,” Neteyam imitates his sister, “Come on.”

“Alright,” you give up, as you walk over to him.

You know it’s innocent but you still feel nervous. Neteyam pats the grass next to him, encouraging you to lay down. You comply, and he watches you relax, as he tousles some of the grass beneath your head. This was a bad idea.

“Feels good, right?” he asks, propping himself up on one elbow so he can look at you.

You close your eyes and take a deep breath. It does.

“I’m starting to understand why Kiri falls asleep so easily,” you say, and hear him chuckle.

“Right? Sleeping outside is way more fun. There is just something about the open sky,” he sighs, “It reminds me of home.”

You keep your eyes closed but you can sense Neteyam’s still watching you.

“What is it?” you ask.

“Oh, nothing,” he sounds flustered, like he got caught, “I just thought you had fallen asleep already.”

“Neteyam?”

“Hm?”

You turn your head to look at him, meeting his curious golden eyes.

“Can you tell me something? I’m not too sleepy yet,” you admit.

“What would you like to hear?” his voice is soft. So soft, you have to tense your ears to hear him.

And he talks. It was easy to guess that Neteyam would speak about the things he values the most, about his family. You’re conflicted between hearing him out and discovering this new world you never knew existed, or leaving him here alone to avoid the guilt weighing down on you.

He tells you about his mother with pride, about her accomplishments and how she stood up for the things she believed in. He mentions that her clan was closely acquainted with the ‘good’ sky people who lived near the rainforest where he was born. These were the ones that tried helping Kiri yesterday. He also tells you about his father, who came from a star, and how he was almost killed by his mother before being saved by Eywa. He speaks fondly of his grandfather, whom he was told to look like, and who was a skilled warrior and protector of his clan, despite never having known him personally. And he tells you about his grandmother, who was strict but deeply loving. He missed her everyday since moving.

As Neteyam talks about the rainforest, his eyes light up with excitement. His descriptions are so vivid and detailed that you can almost see the towering trees, the creatures, and the weapons used by the Omatikaya. At times, he has to articulate with his hands and body to explain it. You feel your tiredness slip away. The more he talks, the more intrigued you get by his life, his stories.

At some point, you overtake the conversation, telling him about your home. You’re rushing through your words because there is so much you want to share. As if its pure existence depends on how much you can recall. At first, Neteyam has a guilty expression that eventually turns into a curious one. Sure, he’s been living with a water clan for months now but the way he reacted to your stories could make you think that he had never even seen water up close.

Hours pass, as your voices get smaller, and drowsiness completely takes over the two of you.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

When you wake up, you feel slightly restrained around your middle. You’re holding onto Neteyam’s arm, wrapped around your middle, and your legs intertwined. Shit.

“Neteyam,” you turn around, slightly shoving him, “”Teyam.”

He slowly opens his eyes, blinking the sleep away. It takes a moment for him to focus on you. So close, you think. Too close.

“Do you mind?” you gesture at his arm.

Neteyam’s a little slow in the morning, you notice. His eyes lazily follow your movement, roam over your body, as if trying to understand what happened, until he finally realizes. You swear, for a second you hear a faint flutter of his ears.

Your eyes snap back at him, and he sheepishly smiles, pulling away.

“Finally,” you mumble, as you get off the grass, “I should…I should go, I promised Tsireya that we’ll do this thing, um, in the morning.” Why can’t you lie?

“Right, and my shift’s over, so my mom will be looking for me,” Neteyam nods his head.

“Uh, well, I’ll see you around then?” you hesitate.

“Sure.”

Is he brushing you off? Slightly embarrassed, you turn around and walk ahead. When you hear his voice call out to you, your heart skips a beat.

“Y/N?”

“Yeah?”

“Friends?”

You pause for a second, then nod with a smile. His face lightens up. Let’s try.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

Trying is definitely a good word to describe this new friendship you’re developing with Neteyam. Within a group, you still keep your distance. So much, that it almost seems like your friendship is supposed to be a secret. You’re scared of being called a hypocrite if you get too close. But you were on good terms with Lo’ak, and basically best friends with Kiri, so there’s really no reason for anyone to call you that. Ugh, but it’s different. Neteyam is different.

When you’re hanging out with the group, you’re always distracted, keeping an eye on him. He doesn't seem as interested in you though. On the contrary, his attention is divided between disciplining his siblings and breaking apart Ao’nung and Kiri from biting off each other’s heads.

Very rarely, in those quiet moments when you go to swim by yourself, you can catch him watching you from a distance. You find it hard to read his expressions, Neteyam is too good at hiding whatever he’s feeling. You, not so much.

Ever since your talk with Jake, and the night you spent with Neteyam, you have conflicted feelings. You’re not sure where you stand anymore. Having voiced your opinions loudly on your first days, you almost expect to pick another fight with him. But you also kind of dread it.

And the tension between you is not anger anymore. He’s still annoying at times but you learned to find it amusing, rather than frustrating. Sometimes, when he looks at you, your heart jumps. And well, it’s not looking good for you.

In those rare moments when you two are left alone, you bicker. It’s strange because you’re almost convinced that he enjoys provoking you on purpose. Neteyam thinks that his responsibility as a guard gives him some sort of control over you. He likes to play the savior.

“Hey, I’m neither Lo’ak, or Kiri, you can’t boss me around!” you frown, after he suggests you don’t go for a swim past the curfew.

“As a guardian, I make sure that everyone’s staying safe,” he raises his eyebrows, like he already won the argument.

“Isn’t your job looking out for the outsiders? Like humans? With weapons, you know? Not terrorizing me for wanting to swim!”

“I sometimes really think you’re doing this on purpose just to see how far you can push me.”

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

Time really seems to stretch out when you don’t get news from the other islands for a few days. Tonowari doubles the guardians around the village, and sends out a small group of swimmers for updates. It must be bad.

“Do you know anything?” you ask Tsireya.

Tsireya tries to be the best daughter to her parents but hanging out around you, the Sully’s, and her brother even, really challenges her sometimes. She knows she’s not supposed to tell you anything but when you all look at her in anticipation, she gives up eventually. To be a good brother, Ao'nung beats her to it from time to time.

“Tsireya?” Lo’ak pushes, knowing just the tone to use on her.

“You can’t tell anyone, I mean,” she looks at Kiri, “The last time the demons attacked one of the villages was a few days ago. The reason we didn’t get any news was because they wiped it out. Completely.”

You see her eyes glisten with tears, and hang your head in defeat. There really isn’t anything you can do, huh? No matter how hard you try. Nothing at all.

“Tsireya, what else?” Kiri wraps her arm around her shoulders.

“And… our attempts to save these clans are turning out to be more damaging,” she sniffles, “Now that the sky demons know that Na’vi are armed, they have doubled their forces. And they are more brutal. Some of the clans think of running from the islands before they get caught.”

“Shit,” Lo’ak curses, “But your dad must have a plan, right? My parents were with him the whole day yesterday. I can tell they’re hiding something.”

“Lo’ak, I can’t tell you,” Tsireya pleads with him.

“They want to take out their chief,” Ao’nung suddenly speaks, “They suggested luring him out and killing him.”

“But your father said he won’t be attacking first,” Lo’ak frowns.

“That’s right, my father won’t. But your father considers it.”

Ao’nung words send the group into a panic, as everyone starts talking, asking for more information. You gulp down, trying to ignore this anxious feeling in your chest. Once again, painful images of your burning home appear in front of you.

Knowing that your plan has caused the destruction of another village makes you feel like shit. This can’t be happening. You can feel yourself losing your grip on your breathing as your body begins to shake. The others continue to talk, but their words become muffled and indistinct, drowned out by the noise in your ears.

“Mawey,” Neteyam whispers to you, taking your hand in his, “Just breathe, Y/N.”

You nod but your body won’t comply. The longer you can’t seem to breathe, the shakier you get. Neteyam squeezes your hand, and starts loudly breathing in and out of his mouth.

“Just follow my lead, alright? Breathe in,” he waits for you to repeat after him, “And out. Right, just like that.”

After many attempts of repeating after him, you finally seem to calm down your breathing, and your heartbeat slows into its natural rhythm.

“Good girl,” he gives your hand another squeeze, “Are you alright?”

“I need to get out of here,” you whisper to him.

“Then let’s go,” he says, pulling you to your feet. You don’t protest.

When both of you walk away, still holding hands, you feel everyone’s eyes turn to you. Ugh. You’re definitely going to be questioned to death for this by Kiri and Tsireya, though right now you don’t care. You just want to be somewhere else.

Neteyam leads you towards the trees. When you reach a small stream, he comes to a stop.

“Hey, you feeling better?” he asks softly, still holding your hand. You nod, looking down at his fingers tightly wrapped around your palm.

“I feel so guilty, for causing more pain,” your eyes start filling up with tears, as you rush through your words, “ I’m scared that we won’t be able to stop them. And I do this thing where I freeze in the most dangerous situations, it’s like my mind takes me to a bad place.”

“Y/N,” Neteyam’s voice is concerned, “I promise, nothing will happen to you.”

“But it’s nightmares every night. I swear, I sometimes can’t tell them apart from the reality,” you admit, looking back at him.

“Mawey, you’ll get through this,” Neteyam comforts you, “I trust you because I know you have a strong heart. But Y/N… what’s happening to you is very familiar.”

“In what way?” Neteyam sighs before opening his mouth.

“My father has this same response sometimes, like panicking and losing your breath. The nightmares. He says that it can happen when one suffers through something very bad, like war, or losing someone close.”

“Well, how did he stop it?” you frown at him.

“He didn’t. You can’t really stop it,” he shakes his head, with a pained expression on his face, “But my mother helps him.”

“How?”

“She talks to distract him. Reminds him that it’s in the past.,” Neteyam answers, then gestures at your hands still interlocked, “She holds him.”

You nod, and squeeze his hand in appreciation. A few tears escape from your eyes, as you look away. Neteyam brings his hand to your face, wiping them away.

“Don’t cry.”

“Am not,” you sniffle.

“Seriously, don’t,” Neteyam grazes your cheek with his thumb, “It upsets me.”

“Why would you care?” you snort.

“Oh, because it’s creepy!” he teases, making you smile, “Seeing you cry is probably going to send the rest of our friends to Eywa.”

“Shut it,” you smack him, but he only laughs.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

Tsireya suggests adding beads into your hair, as she works on your braids. Usually, you would have your hair in small braids, but she convinced you to try out a hairstyle similar to hers: braids at the roots, to prevent hair from falling into your eyes, and letting the rest flow in its natural way. You roll your eyes at the way Tsireya beams at you but you’re secretly happy to be distracted.

The two of you sit on the grass terrace, with two Elderly Na’vi not too far. They seem to enjoy watching Tsireya’s wonders on your hair, and you feel infinitely thankful to them, when Kiri plops down in front of you. She can’t grill you with her questions in their presence.

“Kiri, are you next?” Tsireya asks her, a hint of hope in her tone.

“No, my hair’s too short for all of that,” Kiri gestures at Tsireya’s long curls.

“Nonsense, I think it would look very pretty on you.”

Tsireya continues convincing Kiri, while she works on your braids, when suddenly you sense a movement. The Elderly Na’vi, now seemingly disinterested, walk away, leaving the three of you to yourselves. Oh, sweet Eywa, please don’t.

“So…Y/N,” Kiri beats you to your silent prayer, “You and Neteyam.”

“What about me and Neteyam?” you quirk your eyebrow at her. You’re going to play dumb.

“What’s happening between you?” she squints at you, “And please don’t tell me that you’re in love with him.”

“Oh but I think they would look great together,” Tsireya adds in her dreamy voice. Shit.

“What are you two talking about?” you roll your eyes, heat rushing to your cheeks, “He’s annoying.”

“But like in a cute way?” Kiri tries to crack you.

“In a way that makes your heart flutter?” Tsireya adds.

“Are you thinking about Lo’ak right now?” you turn to look at Tsireya with a sly smile. If you just get to switch the topic, you will give yourself a small window to flee. She looks taken aback.

“Hey, don’t distract us!” Kiri interrupts, waving at you, “It’s alright, Tsireya, we all know he likes you back.”

Tsireya gulps down in embarrassment but doesn’t say anything. Kiri stares at you expectantly.

“What?”

“You were holding hands,” she states.

“I hold hands with Tsireya all the time too,” you’re definitely overplaying, “Neteyam and I are just trying to be more…civil.”

“Yet when you were panicking, it was Neteyam, and not Tsireya, holding your hand and taking you to the trees,” Kiri notes.

Is she playing a smartass? Caught off guard, your eyes widen.

“Why did you go into the trees, Y/N? Were you doing something you didn’t want us to see?” Kiri pushes, trying to crack you.

“Stop it,” you hiss at her.

“I just find it disgusting that he would go for my friend, right after Lo’ak already stole Tsireya from me,” Kiri crosses her arms in front of her chest, “All of you are inconsiderate.”

“A brother for a brother,” Tsireya whispers, and you can’t help but laugh.

“What is that supposed to mean?” Kiri raises her voice.

“Come on, Kiri. Ao'nung is always flirting with you,” you explain, then wince in pain, as Tsireya pulls on your hair.

“Sorry!” she apologizes immediately, “I was just agreeing with you, didn’t mean to pull your hair.”

“You two are unbelievable. Ao’nung is terrible. No offense, Tsireya,” Kiri denies, “And don’t switch topics here, Y/N! You and Neteyam were jumping at each other’s throats since you met, now suddenly you consider him a friend? What happened?”

“Well, there was this time when we had to team up to save your ass,” you tease, enjoying Kiri’s escalating anger, “No, but really. I think we were just really scared for you.”

“Ooh,” the two of them awe in unison, “So that’s it?”

“And Eywa,” you mumble under your breath.

“Eywa?” Kiri’s ears perk up, as she leans in. Right away, Tsireya drops your hair, as she quickly positions herself next to Kiri, her attention now fully on you.

“Well… back when we went to the Spirit Tree, he and I fell a little behind. Then I saw a woodsprite floating around us. Neteyam had his back turned, so he didn’t even notice.”

“Do you think Eywa wants you two -” Kiri doesn’t finish.

“No, it was more of a sign for me to stop resenting him,” you shake your head in embarrassment, “So now I’m trying to listen and be nice to him.”

“That makes sense. Eywa wouldn’t bless you as a couple anyway, it’s too soon,” Kiri says.

“No, it’s not,” Tsireya disagrees, “They’re both capable of choosing mates before Eywa.”

Kiri opens her mouth to protest but then decides against it.

“Doesn’t matter. It’s not the time,” you shake your head, and the girls seem to agree with you, “And Neteyam is not the one. He is my friend. So please stop teasing me for giving him a chance.”

Content with your answer, Kiri drops it. You suspect that Tsireya hasn’t been fully convinced by your words but she is too kind to keep pushing you. You give her a grateful smile for understanding. If anything, she can relate in some way.

Speak of the devil… When you see Neteyam approaching you, you can feel the girls’ eyes on you, looking for a reaction. Neteyam throws a quick look at you, slightly surprised by your hair, but says nothing. He doesn’t like it? You feel a little insecure.

“Hey,” he bows quickly, “Kiri, mother wants you back at home for dinner.”

Kiri rolls her eyes but gets up from the grass. Tsireya follows.

“My family is probably waiting for me too.”

“You’re lucky you have no one telling you what to do, Y/N,” Kiri blurts out, then covers her mouth.

“Kiri!” Tsireya tsks at her, but it’s a little too late.

When it came to dinners, you were mostly having them alone, or sometimes skipping them at all. For your first two weeks, Tsireya would drag you to her house for every single meal but eventually you restarted hunting and actually enjoyed preparing your own meals.

“Y/N, you coming to our place tonight?” Tsireya encourages.

You prepare yourself to politely decline her invitation but Neteyam beats you to it.

“Actually, what do you think about joining us instead?” he asks softly.

Both Tsireya, Kiri and you look at him in surprise. He had never invited you directly in front of others. Not even Kiri has. And the idea of you spending the evening with his father. Yikes. Sure, you somewhat felt more comfortable seeing Jake in the village but sitting in front of him for dinner is totally different.

“Um, I don’t think it’s a good idea,” you mumble.

“Nonsense, Y/N, now that I think about it, I should have invited you a long time ago,” Kiri suddenly jumps in, “And after you saved my ass. Mom and dad would love to thank you.”

“Especially my mom,” Neteyam adds.

If they think they’re making a good point, they must be completely unaware of how uncomfortable you feel around Neytiri. She is intimidating, you think. You can never even talk to her.

“Well?” Neteyam nudges you with a warm smile.

You bite your lip, trying to think of an excuse. Any excuse. But your head is empty, as the three of them look at you expectantly. Tsireya nods her head at you with an encouraging smile.

“If you’re sure,” you admit your defeat.

Happily, Kiri swings her arm around you, leading you towards their marui.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

Sully's marui is bigger than yours, it’s not surprising. They are a family of six after all, you are a single child. Still, you think that you could never live with so many people: losing your parents at a young age made you well acquainted with sharing a room with only one person at a time. Now you share it with no one.

When you shyly walk in, you think your heart is going to jump out of your chest. Kiri pulls you by your hand.

“Mom, dad,” Neteyam grabs their attention, “We invited Y/N to share today’s meal with us.”

“Hey, Y/N,” Jake’s ears perk up, as he stands up with a small smile. You bow. Little Tuk copies her father as she runs up to you, curiously examining you.

“I hope it’s okay,” you smile sheepishly.

“It’s good that you came. You need to eat well,” Neytiri walks up to you with a bowl of food in her hands.

“Mom,” Kiri rolls her eyes, “Y/N eats fine, stop.”

“Not fine enough for a hunter,” Neytiri turns to you, “A good hunter must look after themselves. So eat.”

You nod your head with a small chuckle escaping your lips, as you take the bowl from her. Neteyam gives you a proud smile.

When all of you are seated to eat, Lo’ak rushes into the marui, barely catching his breath.

“Sorry I’m late,” he throws, quickly sitting down next to you, “Oh, hi, Y/N.”

You greet him back, then notice a non-verbal exchange between the siblings. They seem to be doing this way too often. Lo’ak shoots a questioning look at Neteyam, but Neteyam just rolls his eyes at him, and returns to his food. Lo’ak tries again with Kiri. Kiri shrugs her shoulders, then smiles pointing at Neteyam with her eyes. Lo’ak snorts.

“Lo’ak,” Jake grumbles.

“Sorry,” Lo’ak gets back to his bowl without being able to retrieve his smile.

At first, you feel awkward. While they exchange some news with each other, you don’t participate, simply observing them from underneath your lashes. Tuk excitedly tells about her new friendship with a young ilu. Lo’ak shares that he was swimming with Payakan. Jake gives him a displeased look but doesn’t say anything. You think that the food is very good. It’s a shame that you can’t enjoy it because you feel uncomfortable. Why did you have to agree?

“Y/N,” Neytiri turns to you, “I’ve seen you hunt near the trees. Do you prefer it to the water?”

“It depends,” you feel like she is testing you but you don’t want to lie, “I feel most comfortable in the water. But sometimes it gets boring, so I look for the prey in the green. It’s more challenging.”

Neytiri nods, and you notice Jake’s and Neteyam’s approving smiles on you, which makes you feel like you passed the test. Whatever the test was.

“Mom is an excellent hunter,” Kiri adds, “You should join her sometime.”

“I will only be a distraction,” you try to disagree, as you hear Lo’ak chuckle next to you. Is he enjoying how much more uncomfortable his family can make you?

“Lo’ak,” Neytiri slaps the back of his head, “Have you tried hunting on an ikran, Y/N?”

“No, I’ve never even flown,” you give her a sheepish smile, as her eyes widen in surprise. You suppose it’s pretty common, since you grew up around the water.

“You’ve never flown!” Tuk exclaims, as if you are missing out.

“Then it’s decided,” Jake announces, exchanging a knowing look with Neytiri. Oh no.

“Next time I go flying, I will take you with me. You will enjoy it more than swimming,” she smiles.

You and Neytiri. Going to fly. You can’t even speak looking into her eyes, are you sure you will be able to fly with her in the air? At a height? While she hunts?

“Don’t worry, Y/N, you have nothing to be scared of,” Neteyam encourages you with a smile, “I’m sure you will love flying.”

Tuk nods in agreement, clapping her hands together. Neteyam finds his sister’s reaction amusing and lovingly pats her on the head. You enjoy this side of him a little too much, as you watch the interaction with a small smile.

“Like what you see?” Lo’ak whispers to you with a grin.

“What?” it’s hard for you to play cool when he just caught you.

“Nothing,” Lo’ak acts disinterested, biting down on the piece of fish, “Just warning that you’re being too obvious.”

“Just like you’re obvious with the chief’s daughter,” you whisper back, and watch as Lo’ak chokes on his food.

“Eat slower, Lo’ak,” Neytiri scolds him.

As the evening goes on, you feel slightly more at ease. Although the thought of you dying while flying with Neytiri nags at you, you try to push it to the back of your mind for the time being. You and Kiri eventually find a thread of your own conversation, and you occasionally catch Neteyam’s gracing you with his proud smiles.

When you’re finished with thanking them for having you over, Kiri stands up instinctively to walk you out. You’re both confused when Neteyam jumps to his feet, gently pushing his sister out of his way.

“It’s too late for you to be out, Kiri,” he says, his accent thick, “I will walk Y/N home.”

“Since when am I not to be out at this hour?” Kiri is baffled, as she turns to Jake with an expectant look, “Dad?”

“Since you started falling asleep underwater, Kiri,” Jake throws her a knowing look.

When you exit the marui with Neteyam close on your heels, you’re caught by surprise, feeling his arm snake around your shoulder. As you’re about to react, you almost stumble in the dark, and Neteyam helps you keep your balance.

“It’s a bit uneven here, especially in the dark, many stumble,” he explains, as he lets go of you.

“Thanks,” you mumble, looking at him, “Why did you have to invite me?”

“Did you have other plans?” Neteyam quirks at you. You shake your head.

“Still, after everything I said and did, I feel like you all must hate me.”

“You gave me a second chance, right?” Neteyam smiles, “Why wouldn’t I give one to you?”

You shrug your shoulders.

“And just so you know, no one hated you.”

“Not even you?” you tease.

“Especially not me,” Neteyam’s voice is serious. You shy away from his gaze.

As if being unseen in the darkness is equivalent to being unheard, the two of you walk slowly, quietly. You notice how the last bit of sun sets down behind the horizon, and watch in admiration.

“I love it here,” Neteyam admits, following your gaze, “I miss home, and the sky in the forest. But there’s something about the water…”

“What is it that you like about the water?” you ask him curiously.

“I don’t know, it just makes my heart race,” he whispers, looking back at you.

“I would love to see the forest. But I think I like it already,” you whisper back, meeting his golden eyes.

There’s a moment when you think something is going to happen. You’re both terrified and impatient for him to do anything. When did he become so different? Were you just blind before?

Neteyam’s eyes jump all over your face and your hair, like he’s trying to take it in. You hope that you’re not giving away how much you think you’re growing to like him at this moment.

“Your hair looks pretty like this,” he says, reaching for one of the locks draping over your shoulders.

Your heart skips a beat when he twirls a strand of your hair, watching it curl around his long fingers.

“Very pretty,” he smiles, looking back at you.

“Tsireya talked me into it,” you smile sheepishly, as you gently pull your hair back from his grasp.

He turns his head to the side, braids swaying with him. You have to force yourself not to reach your hand to tug them.

“Well, we’re here.” It takes you a second to realize that you’re in front of your marui.

“Right,” you gulp down, “Thanks again for inviting me, it was surprisingly delightful.”

“Wait till you fly with my mother,” Neteyam chuckles, noticing your terrified face.

“Oh, sweet Eywa,” you bite your lip.

“Don’t worry, she won’t let you get hurt,” Neteyam backs away, ready to leave, “I can be there to look after you.”

“I’ll take you up on that offer.”

“Sweet dreams, Y/N.”

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

In a long time, since you had arrived, this is the first time you see Metkayina so overjoyed. From afar, you were all watching as their soul-sisters and soul-brothers, the Tulkuns, were returning home. The Sully’s were looking at the water mesmerized. Being foresters, they probably never even seen Tulkuns before.

You think back to your soul-sister whom you had seen many years ago. You were still a little girl back then but the memories you had with her kept your heart warm all this time. Sadness graces your face when you imagine her returning home and finding your village destroyed, with you nowhere to be found.

And although your soul-sister wasn’t among the Tulkuns, you still enjoy watching their interactions with the Metkayina clan. You swim in between them with a giddy smile, catching glimpses of silent conversations and excited exchanges, especially between the younger Na’vi. Not too far, Neteyam catches your eye. He is unlinked from his ilu, which swims around him with a delighted noise.

“Y/N, this is incredible!” he gestures.

“It is,” you agree, returning his smile.

You spend more time swimming and taking in the scenes unraveling in front of you. What’s even more entertaining is watching Neteyam and Kiri admiring the Tulkuns, and trying their best to understand what they’re saying. Of course, for foresters who had never seen Tulkuns, it was difficult to differentiate the subtle changes of tones and sounds they made. Lo’ak seems more comfortable, and you guess that it’s due to his bond with Payakan.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

That evening, the Metkayina celebrate. While there were no new attacks from the sky people in the past week, you can’t help but feel uneasy, suspecting that something worse is going to happen soon. Like this short moment of happiness is just the calm before the storm begins.

The celebration of the return of Tulkuns is similar to the one you used to have back home. The clan gathers at the beach in big and small circles, around fire. They cook and share food and drinks together, while singing and dancing to the songs of Eywa. Many wear festive patterns on their faces and bodies. It didn’t take Tsireya long to convince both Kiri and you to get your faces and arms painted with beautiful shapes and colors.

As the evening goes on, Kiri tells you that back home their celebrations were almost the same. You sense that she’s truly enjoying it, feeling the familiarity. When she is pulled into a dance, you watch her with a big smile, clapping your hands. The rest of her family looks just as happy, especially Neytiri. Almost relaxed. You feel a little jealous that you had no one to share this moment with.

With everyone distracted, you slip away to the far end of the beach to be by yourself. Feeling the warmth of the sand, you enjoy the waves washing over your feet in a calming rhythm. You watch the horizon, and spot some movement from the Tulkuns performing their own celebratory dance, as they swim around each other. Occasionally, their tails resurface and disappear under the water with big splashes.

“Why aren’t you dancing with the rest?” you hear Neteyam’s voice, as he sits down next to you.

“Why aren’t you?”

“Let’s just say that dancing is not my strongest suit,” Neteyam smiles.

“Is the mighty warrior finally admitting to being bad at something?” you tease him, “Lo’ak would be delighted when I tell him.”

“Lo’ak is a worse dancer than I am,” Neteyam laughs, pointing at his younger brother in the distance.

You look over to find Lo’ak awkwardly circling around Tsireya. It seems like he is going to fall into the fire any second now. They’re holding hands, as she tries to guide him to move his feet like her but Lo’ak seems so out of place, it makes you laugh too. It’s kind of cute, you think. He tries for Tsireya because there is no way he would ever do this in front of so many Na’vi.

“He’s a lost cause,” you shake your head at the sight.

“Anything for love,” Neteyam turns his gaze back to you with a small smile.

You almost get a deja vu of how similar this moment is to the one you shared among the trees. There is something unspoken between Neteyam and you. He holds your gaze, slowly moving closer. You gulp down nervously, when he raises his hand to your cheek. Neteyam pauses for your approval before making contact. His fingers trace a pattern of paint on your face, before he cups your cheek.

“Neteyam,” you whisper, “If anyone sees…”

If anyone sees, you will definitely gain at least several suspicious questions tomorrow morning. You can only imagine how this looks from afar, and you wonder if he wants it to look that way. Is it bad that you hope he does?

“I don’t care,” Neteyam whispers back, his face now closer to yours, “Can I ask you something, Y/N?”

You feel too nervous to talk. Instinctively you raise your fingers, wrapping them around his wrist, then nod your head. Neteyam takes a deep breath.

“Are you promised to someone?” his eyes jump all over your face, trying to read your thoughts.

“No,” your voice hitches, as you hold his gaze, “Are you?”

Neteyam softly shakes his head, one of his braids falling on his face. You find that makes him look more handsome.

“Y/N,” his voice is hypnotic, pulling you closer to him, “I know we didn’t see eye to eye when we met but now I think it’s because both of us felt something. Y/N, I -”

“Neteyam,” you interrupt him with a firm tone, “Don’t say anything.”

You avoid his gaze, lowering his hand from your face. You still keep your fingers around his wrist but you don’t dare to look at him.

“Why?” Neteyam sounds so confused, you feel an ache in your stomach, “Am I wrong? Don’t you feel it too?”

“Neteyam, this is not the time,” you sigh, avoiding his question, “I can’t. Please.”

He pulls his hand from yours, instantly putting a small distance between you. You feel like you’re going to scream. He doesn’t deserve this.

“I don’t understand,” he whispers, shaking his head.

“I can’t promise you anything, Neteyam. I don’t even know if my sister is alive. What if I go back home? What if the demons attack us tomorrow, and I die?” you start rushing through the hundreds of reasons, “I can’t risk this. Having a friend like you is more than I deserve already, ‘Teyam. I don’t want you to get stuck with me. I am not reliable like you. I will mess it up.”

“Y/N -” he looks so confused, trying to follow the line of your words, “I disagree -”

Your intimate moment is disrupted with loud noises of Roxto and Ao’nung running past you into the water. The rest of the group, with Lo’ak and Tsireya, are close on their heels with accompanying shouts. You guess they’re headed to swim with the Tulkuns before Tonowari declares an end to the celebration.

“Neteyam, come join us!” Lo’ak shouts, interrupting his brother.

“Please, let’s just pretend that everything’s back to normal. Whatever ‘normal’ means anyway,” you sigh, standing up. Neteyam’s pained eyes follow your movement, as you leave him there, sitting alone.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

part 2

tumblr won't let me post the rest of the fic in the same post, so go to part 2. if you have any thoughts or comments and you haven't finished reading yet, i would still appreciate you sharing them with me. i'm so impatient for feedback, although i know it will take a lot of time to read this whole thing, anyways

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

taglist (also tagging some blogs that i think might enjoy it, and some of the authors, whose works i’ve been reading non-stop to keep myself motivated): @fucksnow ; @heaven1oo4 ; @fanboyluvr ; @ngayawneluoer ; @aquila-de-l-ocean ; @aoteyam ; @moonpetrichors-blog ; @vinnieswife ; @eywascall ; @lxvvvllyy ; @iloveavatar ; @neteyamdarling ; @gloryy-vs ; @girasollake ; @mayhemories ; @suuuupernovaaa ; @love-chx ; @the-demon-soul ; @cosmictheo ; @victoirey ; @your-averagewriter ; @starkeysmoon ; @openpandorabox ; @urlocalfeiner ; @neteyams-tsahik ; @angelltheninth ; @sweetsbfreex ; @forever--darling ; @arachine ; @nyctophicbtch ; @jeojake ; @isabellapaul37 ; @melbee ; @loaksky ; @luvsellie ; @loakism ; @lizziesfirstwife ; @jakesullysbabygirl ; @theseuscmander ; @love13tter

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leonistic · 2 months

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fictional || azul ashengrotto, jade leech, floyd leech

ask by anon: hi, hi!! can I ask for hcs for octatrio owning a nui of reader? I'm not sure if the reader is a character in a game or if they do exist in twisted wonderland, so whatever works for you :D

azul ashengrotto

"ahem... i didn't mean for you to see that, [name], please forget about it. what do you mean no, it's cute, and no, i did not have it commissioned. i love you, but not that much. yes, i'm lying, my love, i'm very sorry. no, we will not commission an azul nui please my reputation will go down the drain, please, please, please- okay, since you have your heart set on it. what in the seven are nui dates? we can send our nuis on dates? plan dates like that? i see.... interesting idea! do not mention this to jade and floyd though.

jade leech

"oya? it seems you were going through my stuff if you found that, i made sure to hide it well. it was outside? i see. i'm sorry for insinuating otherwise, sweetheart. i had it commissioned before we started dating, it was meant to be a gift for you, but then floyd mentioned that you had a nui of me, so now we match. we can take the nuis with us when we go hiking next time? what a wonderful idea. you'd like to see if there are people who can help you make hiking clothes for the nuis? even better. we shall all match.

floyd leech

"eh, shrimpy, you found the small shrimpy? it's a nui? cute name for the doll. jade got me this after umigame-kun (trey) told him about this. he heard it from hanadai-kun (cater), it's trending everywhere. jade said it'd be a nice gift for you, but you've been mean and ignoring me lately, so this is a replacement you to squish and go to the mostro lounge with until you're free! haah, you have a me nui? and you didn't tell me because i was at practice? unfair!! i'm going out on dates with [name] nui until i- huh, you got it so we could have nui dates? heheh, why didn't you say so before, then?

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst #twst x reader #azul ashengrotto x reader #azul x reader #twst azul #azul ashengrotto #jade leech #jade leech x reader #twst jade #jade x reader #floyd leech #floyd leech x reader #floyd x reader #octavinelle

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purinfelix · 3 months

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gorgeous ˚* ੈ✩‧₊˚

pairing: reader x joao felix summary: when a new player joins the team you manage media for, you're eager to make a good impression - that is, until you actually catch a glimpse of him warnings: none! w/c: 1k

a/n: i've actually had this fic in the works ever since i started this blog but never managed to finish it ... i had planned for it to be longer but i like this idea too much to spoil it through overwriting so here you go <;33

♪ now playing: gorgeous by taylor swift ♪

“I just,” you pause for a bit, eyes wondering around the empty locker room as you search for the right words, “I just don’t like him, alright?”

“Yeah, you’ve made that very clear by the fact that he’s all you’ve spoken about for the past fifteen minutes,” Pedri said sarcastically as he slung his bag over his shoulder.

You could only huff in response, fiddling with the ‘media advisor’ pass hanging from your neck. You were leaned against the doorframe of the locker room entrance, waiting for him as he did the final checks to make sure no one had left anything behind.

“What’s it to you anyways?” you piped up, trying your best to sound nonchalant as you did.

“He’s one of our newest players, and you’re part of our media team. It would certainly make things easier if the two of you got along.”

“Look, it’s not like I’m making a big deal out of it. I shook his hand, I smiled, and I took his pictures like I was supposed to. But that isn’t going to stop me from getting bad vibes from him, okay?”

“Alright, whatever you say,” Pedri said, though the slight upturn of his lip told you otherwise. Catching a glimpse of this expression prompted you to smack his shoulder playfully as you followed him out of the room and down the dimly lit hallway.

The ‘him’ in question was none other than one of Barcelona’s newest loan players: Joao Felix, to whom you had just been introduced to during an afternoon training session, and Joao’s first with his new team. Of course, the media crew had spent most of it following the pair of Joaos around, taking an endless slew of pictures and videos to commemorate their arrival.

The ‘him’ in question was no other than one of Barcelona’s newest loan players - Joao Felix, to whom you had just been introduced to during an afternoon training session, and Joao’s first with his new team. Of course, the media crew had spent most of it following the new pair around, taking picture after picture to commemorate their arrival, much to the dismay of the other players. You could’ve sworn you overheard Gavi mumbling to Fermin about how ‘unfair’ it was that the two newbies were getting so much attention and you couldn’t help but partially share his sentiment.

Even so, as a member of the team’s media crew you were determined to do your job to the best of your ability and make the best first impression possible. After the session itself had ended, you found your opportunity when you spotted Felix sitting alone, sipping from his water bottle. You walked over as casually as you could manage, and as non-awkwardly as a first-interaction between ‘coworkers’ could be. You only managed to get a few steps in his direction before he was alerted of your presence, causing his attention to turn from his bottle onto you, gaze locking onto yours.

You couldn’t describe the feeling as anything but pure shock. The greeting you had been planning in your head all afternoon seemed to disappear into thin air as soon as his eyes made contact with yours, and all that came out of your mouth was a soft, sort of strangled-sounding noise. You were frozen in place, fists clenching at your sides as your mind raced for something, anything to do.

Something to do about the embarrassing blush spreading across your face. About the quickening of your heart as it pounded in your chest. About the fact that he was looking right at you, and the fact that he was so … gorgeous. So insanely gorgeous and insanely smug, once he realised that your reaction was in fact his own fault - evidenced by the smirk spreading across his face.

“Can I help you?” his tone was low, teasing almost. He seemed to notice that you were frozen in place, standing up from his spot on the bench and deciding to meet you halfway, with smooth, easy movements. It all seemed to annoy you so much, that he could stand there and look so gorgeous, and be so seemingly aware of it too.

“Ah- well,” you began to struggle, internally cursing yourself for how flustered you sounded, “I just wanted to introduce myself, you know, since I’m part of the media crew here.”

You extended a shaky hand out to him, which he took, and you tried not to focus too much on the way his much larger hand enveloped your own.

“I’m Joao, but I’m guessing you already knew that,” the slight peak in his tone and raise of his eyebrow as he ended his sentence prompted you to return his firm grip as the two of you shook hands.

“Yeah, I did,” you say, a little sterner than you intended, all facade of civility having melted away and been replaced by pure irritation. Something about this guy, and his stupid smirk, and his dumb hair, and sparkling eyes, and strong hands and-

“Hey, Joao!” came the voice of one of your coworkers, who waved the player over with a clipboard in hand, likely to snap some more photos for the team’s social media. You felt his hand pull away from yours, ashamed at the momentary feeling of reluctance that struck you as it did. His gaze was still on you though, which you were so harshly reminded of as you locked eyes for a couple more excruciatingly difficult seconds.

“I’ll see you around then, nice to meet you.” One last flash of that smug smile was all you got before he was jogging off to your coworker, leaving you standing there, slack-jawed, cheeks flushed, hands a little sweaty yet clenched in frustration.

#joao felix #joão félix #joao felix x reader #joao felix x you #joao felix fluff #joao felix oneshot #joao felix fic #fanfic #football #oneshot #fc barça #fc barcelona #jet writes ★#purinfelix

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arkiliastuff · 4 months

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Always You

One shot | Noah Sebastian x Female Reader

Warnings : Fluff, a tsundere/upset Reader and a teasy Noah. (I can't deal with this man anymore he's too hot I can't stop thinking about him)

A/N : First of all, I wasn't planning on writting another one shot about Noah soon, but guess what plans changed. Also I didn't expect to be this long again, but how bizarre when it comes to Noah it gets longer...👀 And it turns out I like this fanfic very much 😌 Plus, listening After You by Meg Myers actually helped me a lot in the writting process. Hope you'll enjoy it ! :D

~ The little bean Taglist : @talialovesmiw

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You were walking back from the bar you were at, during the evening. You walked fast, irritated. Noah was a few feet behind you, looking at you with a grin on his face as he loved seeing you pouting and being flustered.

He teased you during the whole party, getting each time closer to your face as you tried to hide it, crimson red. You weren’t able to focus on anything else. You tried to talk to the other guys who were here, enjoying the break of a night party at the bar like you all used to do when they were back from touring. But you couldn’t even have a chat with any of them for more than five seconds. Noah was always by your side, putting an arm on your shoulder, or kept looking at you with his smile killing you each time.

He also knew and felt when you were watching him. While you were pretending to talk with the boys, you saw him in the corner of your eye, flipping his hair back from his face. This was something that always makes you lose your mind. This guy was completely draining every brain cell of your brain, the thought of him never leaving your mind. You were mad at him. He was teasing you way too much. That was unfair. Since he knew you had a crush on him, but tried to hide or deny it in front of him, he kept acting like that. You felt like he was only playing with your feelings and that’s why you were angry.

He knew how handsome he was to you and you were losing it. And so, during the party, you decided to leave because you couldn’t handle Noah anymore. You were about to explode if he went closer to you once more, your lips getting close every time. You were out of breath. You needed fresh air. So you left, telling the guys you were going home. And guess who decided to accompany you? Yes. Him. Noah. When he saw you leaving, he followed you, his stupid grin still on his sexy face. You let out an angry groan to hide how you were so flustered by his presence. And here you were again, walking fast in front of him trying to put some distance, but he quickly caught you up.

“Mad at me, princess ?” He said while walking by your side, still smirking.

You couldn’t take his teasing game anymore. You had to say something, otherwise, you were going to collapse at your feet. That’s the last thing you wanted to show him. Being vulnerable in front of him and admitting his teasy flirting was working so much on you. But you tried to keep it together, your anger helping you to hide a bit longer how you were drawn to him.

“Yes, I am !” You let out, angry.

“Oh? Why? What did I do ?” He said, acting innocently.

“You !!--” You clenched your fist, restraining yourself to punch his beautiful face “You know exactly what you were doing the whole night.”

“Well, you tell me.” He kept smiling.

You inhaled, getting ready for what you were about to say. You stopped walking, in the middle of the road, facing him, still with your red cheeks.

“No matter what I do, trying to talk to the others or even doing nothing, I always think about you. It’s always you. You. Over and over again. It always has been. You’re so selfish, Noah. I can’t get you out of my head. It’s been months since I have a big ass crush on you, and everyone seemed to know it before I told any of them. But you, you didn’t realize it until, God knows when, and now you’re playing with me! And I’m tired of this !! Just tell me what you want already !”

This sounded more like a confession than being angry at him. But you actually wanted to tell him your feelings for a long time. You were madly in love. So much that seeing his perfect face hurted you so much. You didn’t know how you could keep this up when you were hanging out with him and the boys. He was occupying every single one of your thoughts and dreams. You had to tell him at some point. You weren’t planning on getting angry at him. Yet, he really did push you to the edge. Somehow, he seemed to not mind you getting angry at him. He actually loved it. He kept his stupid smirk, like he knew you were giving up on avoiding him or pretending his teasing didn’t affect you. He leaned to your height, looking straight into your eyes.

“Well, I’m glad you only think about me. That’s all I’ve ever wanted.” He said quietly, teasing you once again.

If you weren’t red enough, well you were purplish red, like a tomato about to explode. You felt every inch of your body burning, of anger or desire, or probably both. He had such a hold on you that you knew it was useless to fight or try to struggle with him. He always won and always will. Even if you already lost this battle with him, you tried not to admit your defeat as you crossed your arms against your coat.

“You’re still playing with me, are you? I knew it. You don’t feel anything for me, you just want to see me being madly in love with you to flatten your ego ?” You accused him.

He shook his head, still smiling at you but more genuinely this time.

“I’m teasing you to only see your reactions, pushing you a bit more to the edge, because I love seeing your cute face when you’re angry…” He said softly, still seductively teasing you.

He brushed his thumb on your red hot cheek, his cold gloved touch surprised you.

“... But I’m not playing with you or with your feelings. I will never. You’re too precious to me. I care for you, Y/N. I really do.”

You felt your heart flinch when he spoke your name so softly, his touch and words soothing you that made you uncross your arms.

“I guess, I’m also the one in denial who didn’t want to admit my feelings for you” He kept saying more gently “ Will you forgive me ?”

He put both of his hands on your cheeks, waiting for your answer. Was this real? You weren’t sure anymore as he teased you way too much. So you returned him the favor.

“Well… I’ll forgive you if you really mean what you’re saying to me.” You faked a pout.

He grinned again, loving you being the little brat you were.

“And what if I showed you that I really mean it ?” He said.

“Then do it, before I do it myself.” You said firmly, anticipating what was going to happen.

He smiled as he leaned closer to you, finally meeting your lips. You’ve been waiting for this, for so long. He probably had too, since how he pulled you closer against him, his strong arms caging you, deepening the kiss. This was even better than you expected, despite being in the middle of the street, people passing by behind you. But neither of you paid attention to the surroundings. It was just the two of you. You kept kissing each other until you were both out of breath. But you wanted more, you craved him.You wanted to taste his lips again. And as you stared at his darkened eyes you could tell he wanted to. The only thing that was pushing you back to go further was.. well processing your real first kiss with him. And also your own hesitation to keep going like this. Noah could see the messy blushing look on your face and he couldn’t stop smiling at the sight, with you in his arms, brushing slowly your fingers on his cheek.

“Finally giving up your shell ?” He teased once more.

You rolled your eyes in exasperation.

“And I see you’re not done teasing me, are you ?” You replied back.

“I’m not and I won’t stop. This is just the beginning. I’ll keep teasing you all night, baby.” He smirked.

You blushed at the idea of what he might do, but you forced yourself to not think about it.

“Ugh… Why am I not surprised? I should’ve expected that from you. You’re so annoying.” You pouted, raising your eyebrows.

To his dismay, you left his embrace, infuriated again and turned your back on him.

“That’s it. I’ve had enough. I’m coming home.” You let out, upset and tired of his teasing.

Yet Noah wasn’t done. It took him a few steps to catch you again. He grabbed you lightly by the wrist, stopping you from leaving. Then, he pulled you close to him, holding you from behind with his arms around your waist. Feeling his warmth in your back made you sweat as your body’s heat was increasing quickly.

“What the..? What are you doing ??” You stumbled, blushing again and almost ready to fight him.

“Don’t leave just yet.” He whispered to your ear “Let me hold you for two seconds. Then I’ll walk back home with you."

You expected him to tease you again but he seemed more sincere and serious this time.

“Fine…” You capitulated “But no more teasing, alright ?”

“Hmm.. No promises.” He mouthed, hiding his face in your neck.

You grumbled a bit before releasing the pressure and exasperation of his teasing, actually enjoying the cuddle. His breath was soothing you as he was inhaling the sweet perfume of your hair. Both of you stood in the middle of the road, hearing the cars passing by during this cold night. You were glad Noah was there. Indeed, he was keeping you warm, his huge body covering yours like a blanket. Two seconds had passed but you wanted to stay like this a bit longer, despite the cold getting through your thighs. Noah felt you were shivering and that’s when he decided to break his embrace.

“Come on, let me walk you home. At this rate, you’re going to freeze to death.” He said, gently holding your hand.

His tender touch caught you off guard but you didn’t complain. As long as you could be a little longer with him, that’s all that mattered. You looked at his gloved hands, so big compared to yours intertwined with his. Then you looked at Noah, staring at his profile and how he looked so gorgeous no matter which angle.

“That’s so unfair.” You mumbled in your scarf, hiding your red face.

“What’s unfair ?” He asked, looking at you, amused again.

“You…” You began and continued “You are so unfair. I cannot comprehend how you can be such a teasy fool and be so gentle at the same time ?!”

He smiled, with the kind of smile he always does. The one that showed his perfect teeth and the curve of his cheeks going up, making all of his traits harmonize together. The kind of smile that always made you melt. With that, he let out a soft chuckle, which sounded like a sweet melody to your ears. God, how much you loved seeing his genuine smile on his face and hearing his laugh.

“I guess, it’s just the way I am.” He replied, simply.

You were not really convinced by this answer though.

“You’re just surreal. Like you’re coming out of a dream.” You stated.

“Yet, I’m right here, Y/N. Right next to you.”

Your hand still in his, he gently put the tip of your knuckles to his lips, leaving the sweetest kiss you ever had.

“See? Is that enough to prove it to you ?” He smiled, satisfied to see you red as a traffic light again.

“Um... I guess so…” You stammered, avoiding his gaze, too much flustered for your own good.

The way back to your flat went well somehow. At first, you felt awkward about the silence between the two of you, but seeing that Noah didn’t mind it did ease you. He was enjoying this peaceful moment with you. Even if you were less tense around him, you were still processing what happened. All of his teasy behavior and him admitting his feelings for you was quite a lot to assimilate. You didn’t expect it to be that mutual.

As you were lost in your thoughts, you didn’t realize you had arrived at your front door until Noah told you.

“We’re here.” He spoke softly.

You felt your heart ache when you were about to let go of his hand. He took his time, as he didn’t want to let go either. You remained silent though, not knowing what to say or to do.

“Well… I’ll see you next time. Good night.” He said.

Panic started to rise in your chest, your heart beating so fast, as you saw him about to leave.

What did he mean by “next time” ? He couldn’t leave you like that. You wanted to see him as much as you could before he went back touring… And God knows when he’ll be back.

Without any other hesitation, you rushed to him and grabbed a piece of his black coat sleeve.

“Wait..! Can’t you stay a bit longer? At least… stay here for the night. You can sleep on my couch and you can go back in the morning. If you want.. of course.” You begged.

You stuttered at your words at the end, not sure if your request was appropriate. You lowered your head, staring at your feet as the embarrassment rose. You kept holding his sleeve, not letting him go this time. Noah turned around and leaned a bit to cup your face so you could look at him.

“Look who’s the needy one this time.” He mused, making you blush “Sure, I’ll stay with you. I’m fine sleeping on the couch.”

Your heart skipped a beat as he accepted your offer. You just nodded at him, smiling nervously as the both of you entered your apartment. You took off your coat and scarf before leaving your boots in the doorway. Noah did the same while following you in your living room. You started to put more cushions, a pillow and a blanket on the couch that you took from your closet. Then, you realized how small your couch was compared to Noah.

“Actually, I’ve realized that it might be better for you to sleep in my bed than here...”

He looked at you, tilting his head on his left, smiling at you.

“Oh ? How interesting. You want me so badly in your bed, huh ? You could have just asked right away, you know.”

You stepped back, waving your hands at him to undo the teasing he was doing to fluster you even more.

“No, no ! Erm.. I just don’t want you to hurt your back or anything… You know what, I’ll sleep on the couch myself."

“Or… If your bed is big enough for the two of us, we can sleep together.” He teased, getting closer to you.

Oh, no. Why did you invite him to your place again ? Right. Because you love him.

“I’ll promise I’ll behave.” he smirked.

Your eyes widened before stepping a little from him, trying to get yourself together.

“Well, you better be ! Or I’m kicking you out of the bed.” You warned him.

“Deal.” He chuckled.

Once you set up your bed with Noah’s help, you went into the bathroom to get changed into more comfortable pajamas. Not like you were nervous about how ridiculous it would look or not like you cared about Noah’s opinion either. He said he wasn’t going to do anything. Yeah, it was better to keep it that way. For now. Too many things happened during this night. You were barely realizing he was here, at your house, sleeping in your bed with you. As you were brushing your teeth, you were overthinking the situation. Come on, get yourself together! But how could you remain calm as the man you’ve always dreamt about was here now ?

You spat your toothpaste before washing your mouth and heading back to your room. Noah was sitting at the edge of it, undressing his black coat and his dark sweater, just to be comfortable in his turtleneck shirt. You never imagined a man could look that good in a turtleneck shirt. Timidly, you cleared your throat, interrupting your own fantasies.

“Sorry, I don’t have any other clothes that would fit you. But I have an extra tooth brush, in the bathroom’s small cabinet, if you want…”

He smiled at you so lovingly, putting his cheek in the palm of his tattooed hand, visibly moved by your concern.

“Worried about my well-being, are we ? How thoughtful of you.” He grinned

“Well.. Yeah..! What about it ?”

“I think it’s adorable.” He said softly, a large smile still curling his lips.

“Oh, shut up and go to the bathroom already !” You gave up.

He stood up and went to the bathroom, brushing his teeth. A few minutes later, he lied down in the bed next to you. You tried to hide your smile in the blanket, as you were getting close to him.

“Happy to see me, here ?” He said, amused to see your happy face.

You nodded shyly as an approval, making him grin again. You got closer to him, facing his covered torso before lifting up your chin to gaze at him.

“So… When are you going back touring ?” You asked.

“In two days. I’ll help everyone get everything packed up tomorrow. Which is why I’ll leave early when the morning comes” He replied quietly.

You felt a bit sad, imagining him leaving already, but that was a thought for later. You rolled a bit more with the blankets, like a sushi.

“Thank you for staying tonight, Noah.” You mumbled after a short silence.

“My pleasure, sweetheart." He responded softly while stucking a strand behind your ear.

His gentle touch made you melt again. You snuggled a bit closer to him feeling his warmth and breathing his cologne. How relaxing it was. Noah wrapped his arms around your back, pulling you close to him.

“Goodnight.” He said, leaving soft kisses on your forehead.

As you were going to sleep, you barely heard him. And also you hardly remembered saying “ ‘Love you” to him.

When you woke up, early in the morning, the other side of the bed was empty. You put your hand on the mattress, hardly feeling Noah’s warmth. He left early as he said last night. You couldn’t help but feel a bit melancholic as you stroke the bedsheets to remember his presence. You missed him already. Then, under your touch, you found a piece of clothing, hidden under the blanket. You recognized it. It was Noah’s sweater. The one he was wearing last night. As you were wondering why he left it, your phone buzzed on the nightstand next to you. Curious, you picked it up.

Noah : Thank you for the night, princess. The bed was comfortable with you cuddling me. You can keep the sweater as a souvenir. Love you too.

You let out a small laugh while you read his message, holding his sweater close to you. You could still inhale Noah’s perfume, as if he was still with you.

“Idiot…” You murmured to yourself with a smile.

He sure was a teasy idiot but you loved him so much. It was impossible for you to get him out of your head. And you liked it that way.

#bad omens fanfiction #badomens #bad omens fanfic #fanfiction #bad omens #noah sebastian #noah sebastian x reader #noah sebastian fic #noah sebastian x female reader #noah sebastian fanfiction #bad omens band #noah sebastian fluff #fluff

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sentoooo · 4 months

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[anon: Heyyy can you do a nsfw alphabet for bi han !:) thank you] figured since i was already working on it, i'd just drop it w/ the ask :P i know it's definitely not on par with a lot of people's headcanons, but this is how i see him. no one can convince OTHERWISE, he's MY SCHNOOKUMS, i get to choose the HEADCANONS!

cw: NSFW, amab, soft bi-han cause i said so, blowjobs, he's only slightly possessive, temp. play, he's kind of unfair, not proofread MINORS DNI

ʙɪ-ʜᴀɴ || ɴꜱꜰᴡ ᴀʟᴘʜᴀʙᴇᴛ

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Bi-Han is touch starved. So, he doesn't end up craving affection, actually, it seems like he kind of has an aversion to it. It is only until he fully realizes his feelings towards you that he puts full effort into aftercare. He'll clean you up, obviously. But he's grown quite fond of seeing you in his clothes, so he will always offer his for you to wear after. Or even during. He'll draw a bath for you, with a variety of salts,- Epsom, Himalayan, and Solar salt- he'll even throw some dried chamomile and yarrow in there. He also loves washing your hair for you, not that you mind. He'll then carry you back to bed, which has new, clean sheets. And after all that, he'll hold you close. Real close. He holds you with such a purpose, he'll play with your hair, run his hands down your back, anything and everything that'll send you to sleep. Despite his cold demeanor, Bi-Han prefers to treat you like royalty. You're also something he's afraid will get taken from him. He really cherishes what's his, and he wants to make sure that's especially prominent after sex, since he knows what it's like to feel used.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

His favorite body part of his is probably his back. It shows off a lot of his muscles and a lot of his training. It's also particularly defined, and as vain as it sounds, he does find it particularly attractive. Not that he focuses much on that aspect of his life, especially since he's the grandmaster of the Lin Kuei, but it's definitely a thought that passes through his mind. Especially when you run your warm hands down his back.

His favorite body part of yours has to be your hands. He loves holding them, anywhere, everywhere. Although, he isn't much for PDA. He loves how warm your hands are, though. It balances out his naturally cold body temperature. It's something he can never get enough of. He also loves it when you hold his face ever so gently, especially while he's fucking you. And don't forget, he loves to hold hands during sex, especially when he cums.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Bi-Han prefers to cum outside, especially with a condom. He prefers you to be clean, and for there to be less of a mess to clean up. You can coax him to cum inside, but he'd much prefer to keep the condom on. Not that it makes much of a difference.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Just how much he thinks of you. Yeah, yeah, it's meant to be 'dirty', not endearing, but I'm getting there. Any given time, even when he's pre-occupied with combat, he's always thinking of you. He does so as if he's afraid of forgetting your face- which he is, don't get me wrong. And sometimes, just sometimes, he remembers just what you're like in bed. A mess, moaning, drooling, looking at him with those needy eyes, begging him for more. How your hands drift down his body, sending shivers down his spine. Admittedly, he has broken concentration because of this, and he has had to sneak away to find a private place to jack off.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

He's got an average amount of experience, I like to think. Normally, he doesn't fuck for any sentimental value. At least, until he met you. When he really got into it, he's at your beck and call, so to speak. He knows how to satisfy you, just the right places to touch, how to hold you, how to kiss you, but if you tell him to do something (as long as it doesn't break his boundaries), he'll do it.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Lotus Flower. No contest. He loves it because he gets to hold you close, still be in control, and see your face. He gets to enjoy you in nearly all ways like this. And since it's especially close, it makes the encounter feel more intimate, at least to him.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Bi-Han's serious, all the way. Sex is a very intimate and sacred act to him, especially with you. And he makes that very clear. Every word he's speaking to you is full of love, no matter how dirty they sound. His favorite thing is getting close to your ear and whispering all sorts of phrases that are so sweet, it's almost uncanny to hear it from him.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

He's fairly smooth. He has some pubic hair, and a beloved happy trail. But not much chest hair, with a little bit of arm hair. He cares little about his body hair, really. Not that you're complaining.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Contrary to his cold demeanor, with you, he's the softest man in the world. Just the words he says makes your legs weak. He treats you like your his, he's possessive, but he's gentle about it. He says just the sweetest things to you, tells you "I love you" in this soft, quiet voice, runs his hands down your body oh so gently, plays with your hair, and can just never take his eyes off you. He also loves calling you his, his darling, his love, anything. And especially when he's cumming, he'll say "我爱你", get real close to your ear and whisper, "那么".

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Bi-Han doesn't really jack off much, once a week, maybe. He doesn't really have the need to, nor the time to. Besides, he has you. He prefers you, over his right hand.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Temperature play is one of his favorites. I mean, are you surprised? He loves using his powers on you, especially when your blindfolded. He loves all the little gasps and moans you make, watching your body shiver, how you anticipate his touch. He'll still be gentle, don't worry, but it's hard to hold himself back when you're just waiting for him to touch you.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

He prefers the privacy of his bedroom, or yours. It's the best place for it, he thinks. To be in the comfort of his own bedroom, he gets to have you how he wants. But if he had to choose a place outside of the bedroom, it'd be the woods. As messy and un-practical it is, he enjoys the tranquility of it all.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

When you tease him. Not in front of the Lin Kuei or anyone else, no, he hates that. But when you tease him when you two are alone. I mean, yeah duh. But he enjoys knowing of your yearning. He particularly loves it when you run your hands through his hair, or even just simply checking him out. Even he didn't think he'd be turned on by something like that, but the first time you eyed him up and down, and bit your lip, fuck. He had a hard time containing himself.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Bi-Han cannot forsake his control in bed. While he would not mind doing anything for you, that is one of the things he cannot do. It is a hard no, he has to be the top.

He also hates it when you tease him in public. As long as it's subtle, he doesn't mind it. But don't run your hand down his thigh in public. He hates that kind of display, especially in front of the Lin Kuei.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

He will always prefer receiving. Not so big on giving. Like I said, he prefers to be in control. As soft as he is with you, he will never, ever turn down a blowjob. One of his favorite things to do is brush your hair out of your face when you choke him down, he loves just watching you, really. It's hard not to just cum at the sight of you. He'll praise you all the while, too. Of course he will, you're his.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Contrary to popular belief, I think he'd be all sweet and slow with you. Bi-Han's going to treat you like royalty. And he loves making sex last as long as possible. This is all to make sure it's satisfactory. More than satisfactory, really. He wants you to enjoy yourself, to know how much he loves you, all adoring and sweet and sappy. He feels like rough sex would just make you feel used. But, if you ask for it, and you tell him very explicitly that you are sure, he will go rough & hard for you. But he does enjoy taking his time with you. Sometimes he'll go so slow that it'll be excruciating. And maybe, that's what he's going for. As much as he's in this to make you feel like you're the only boy in the world, like you're all his, he does enjoy teasing you a little, too.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Hard pass. Again, he feels that if he doesn't take his time with you, that it won't count. And quickies do his love no justice. Even if you two haven't been able to enjoy each others presence in a while. He just can't.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Bi-Han is picky. If it's anything in public? No. If it's anything that could possibly hurt you? Hell. No. Unprotected sex? Maybe. Introducing someone else to the bedroom? No, don't even think about asking. Now, bondage? He'll think about it. Role-play, too. He doesn't turn down those, immediately.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Don't ask. Unless you have what it takes to tame the beast. Like I said, he's touch starved. And with you, I like to think that's the first time he's let anybody in this close, aside from family. But with his training, and how reserved he's been. He could last all night, and maybe even all day. He definitely has a lot of pent up sexual tension.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Bi-Han doesn't own any, no, but if you have some, he doesn't mind using them on you. But he always prefers to just fuck you without them, he thinks it's more intimate that way.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He's an asshole. He won't edge you, but sometimes he'll slow down and just ever so carefully bring you to your climax. He likes savoring the moment, but you can always feel him smirk in your neck when he does this. Sometimes, he'll slow down right before your orgasm. While you're begging for more, to pick up the pace a little, reaching to just give yourself that one push you need to cum, he gives you such a sinful look.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Bi-Han is rather quiet. He'll moan in your ear, and obviously he'll praise you every chance he gets. But he likes knowing that it's for you only, so he won't really be screaming for you. Like I said, he likes to keep sex a very intimate moment between you and him.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

He really loves giving you hickies. At least, in places he knows others can't see. It gives him a sense of pride, he knows you're his, but he feels like he's got to mark you just a little. He especially loves marking up your collarbone, he thinks the noises you make are adorable, running your hands through his hair as his kisses you softly, only to end up marking you once more. And don't worry, you get him back. He always ends up with scratches on his back.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Bi-Han is on the bigger side, and he's a grower. 6.8" in length when hard, 1.9" across. Uncircumsized, leans slightly to the left, and a little bit veiny.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

It's moderate. His sex drive depends on yours, really. Especially since he doesn't have much time to really notice it. But he's always happy to fuck you when you ask- as long as you two have proper time.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Bi-Han is kind of self conscious when it comes to falling asleep. He also wants to make sure you are comfortable enough, so he worries over you until you fall asleep. He'll fall asleep maybe like 20 minutes after you do, even if you express how much you enjoyed the sex, and even if you fell asleep happy, he's going to mull over it and worry for a little bit afterward.

#⁺◟sentooo #mk1 x reader #mk x reader #mortal kombat 1 x reader #mortal kombat x reader #mk1 x male reader #mk x male reader #mortal kombat 1 x male reader #mortal kombat x male reader #bi-han x reader #sub zero x reader #bi-han x male reader #sub zero x male reader

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blueberrypancakesworld · 7 months

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Picture an Angel

warning : obsession, using of ropes, innocent/naive reader, older man/younger woman, Frollo being Frollo

Info : Our lord and savior has a hold on me and I wanted to write more for him and his way to corrupt the innocent reader. I see you guys liked my first One-Shot with him here is more have fun reading ;)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

His angel. She was his angel, his sweet angel in the church that was almost completely in his hands. He knew exactly that as soon as either her father died or another man came he had to strike. He had to finally have her, the golden ring on her finger that he had bought her specially would be given to her by him.

He would own her as his wife. Knew that it would only take a few more steps until they would be united under God and he had her all to himself. But until then he still had time to play his game and would do so. Because like every lord, every man with influence and power he wanted to show this.

Wanted to see and show the beauty of his love at all times. A work of art. He wanted to hold her beauty, wanted to have her hanging on his wall until he would finally have her. A picture of temptation in his bedroom and to dream about his physical desire to finally give satisfaction.

He would not entrust this work of art to any artist too much he was afraid that the one would take her away from him. Artists as beautiful as art could be were free spirits and could enchant such young, delicate beings as his angel was.

But he himself had strength he knew he would exploit their piety and naivety. Because he was the church and would thus protect them from evil. The evil that was everywhere and only his angel was the light in this damned world.

,,My angel" he murmured and his ringed fingers ran over the stained glass window in his room. A creation that spoke even more for his wealth. The light of the rising sun the red of the glass flaming sun punished him the cave called for him and would eventually fetch him.

A cave that surrounded him and the church the home of his angel. He saw the church, saw Notre Dame and knew that she was lighting the candles. How beautiful she looked as she lay down and prayed before the Blessed Virgin.

How her hands were clasped together, her head bowed, or sometimes looking up at the statue. He watched her as if she were his holy virgin the gesture went from pious in his eyes to lustful. Kneeling before him she would either way.

His horse Snowball was already saddled and made ready at his door. And with the ringing of the church bells he got on his horse and rode through the dirty streets of Paris to get closer to the church.

He rode faster and faster, the people he did not care and rushed or jumped to the side. They were unfair and were only unnecessarily in his way. The mob turned away and only moments later he had arrived at his angel.

His pretty holy angel he would wait for him in the church. Descending and straightening his clothes, he opened the heavy church door made of the old wood before the cold of the stones gave way to him.

The torches and candles were burning and yet no one seemed to be here. No one except himself and his pretty angel. Where are you, my love? he asked himself, stepping forward and after a few minutes he heard the soft singing. The bright voice of his love seemed to call him and he followed.

He followed her up to the church tower where she had her room. The big room with the view of the city she loved. The city where she stayed only with her father or a few guards, otherwise Frollo would always be at her side.

The thought that she might come to harm had made the judge a little crazy. But the possibility that he would lock her up in such a way that the people would hate him even more did not occur to him. He listened to the singing for a few more minutes before knocking.

,,Who is it?" she asked and he thought he heard her startled gasp. You will sing for me, my heart, went through his mind before he announced himself and entered her room. The light of the sun shining on her through the window, the colored glass showing an angel with a white rose made her look even more beautiful.

The light dress she wore was pretty and yet chaste it was perfectly fitted to her. But he could see exactly her ankles, her tender hands and wrists and her neck and guess what her body looked like underneath.

Her beauty would still belong to him. ,,My Lord, you have come for the picture," she said, and he heard her uncertainty, knowing that her father knew nothing about it. She had told Frollo that day that the Dean of Paris would visit the orphanages in the city.

The elder nodded, looked in the corner of her room and saw under the large white cloth the canvas and the easel, the colors her father had given her for her twentieth birthday. A day on which Frollo had also given her something.

A golden ring with an amethyst inserted, he had put it on her finger. A look at her hands told him that she still wore it. She belonged to him, respected and only because she did not know the world as he knew it. ,,Am I really suitable for this...there are more beautiful women" she murmured and looked at her hands on which the ring was.

He clicked his tongue and shook his head, seeing her looking up at him as his hand came down on hers. ,,Not my flower," he started and ran his fingers over her cheek, turning her head towards the small mirror which was another gift from him to her. He saw her looking at herself and saw the small discoloration of her cheeks.

,,You are the image of the Virgin Mary, you are true piety and beauty," he finished telling her before detaching himself from her and instructing her to sit on her chair while he set up the easel and placed the blank canvas on it. ,,I'll adjust it a little for the perfect picture," he said after setting up the oil paints knowing he was the only one who could paint her perfectly. It was his.

Separating himself from the painting, he went over to her and took a rope from his coat pocket. ,,It is the ribbons of faith that have made Mary consort with the angel...as you blossom here, you too will live up to the angel, won't you?" he asked and the rope slowly tightened around her wrists holding her hands in the praying position folded on her lap.

His long thin cold fingers were adept at tying the knot, taking his time before lightly grasping her chin and making her look up.

There was uncertainty in her gaze as he knelt down and lightly lifted the fabric of her dress. ,,Frollo!" she said in surprise and wonder, and she wanted to pull away, but he just put his hand on her thigh and placed the ruffled fabric in her hand.

,,Always one step at the sin...the flesh of the body and the beauty is what the devil wants isn't it?" he asked and saw how she seemed slightly overwhelmed her voice that could sing so beautifully fell silent for a moment before she nodded and turned her gaze towards the picture. Goosebumps appeared on her body as his fingers stroked up her ankle and he withdrew.

Even her good faith only went so far as she could interpret a man's desires. ,,Is everything done so far?" she dared to ask, looking at him hopefully, still knowing that for a woman of God's house she must look lewd. But for Frollo she was everything.

She was the angel of innocence and the fire of sin on which he would and should burn himself. ,,It's ready, I'll start, don't move my dear" he demanded and she complied with his request. Frollo took the brush and began to apply the first colors to the painting.

While his fingers knew exactly what they were doing, his eyes kept going over her body and he saw her either avoiding his gaze, not holding it, or looking at the window with the angel. His eyes held on the ropes at her wrist, imagining how her body would look when he tied her to the bed.

The rope would leave marks on her hands, legs, thighs, arms and breasts. The marks he would caress to make up for it. Would she cry? The tears in her eyes dripping onto the pillow he would wipe away and kiss away, reassuring her that it was his will.

She would be good to him. She had to. As she held up her dress he saw more and more of her skin and enjoyed the warmth and softness as he stroked over it. He imagined what it would be like to have her next to him, warming his bed and keeping him warm. She would become his angel. His wife.

His until the sun threatened to set in the sky and he knew they would have to continue it another day. ,,It's time...Father will be back soon" she said and he saw how the position was starting to hurt her and she tried to move a little. But he calmly put back the colors and the canvas.

He let her take her time before returning to her, letting the fabric fall back over her ankles and twisting a strand of her hair back and forth between his fingers. ,,We'll finish it, I promise, my flower," he murmured and after a time that was almost too long he opened the rope and took it with him.

He helped her up from the chair and in an act of lust kissed her wrist prints. He heard her surprised gasp but she did not pull away. ,,For your effort, I'll bring you a rose next time, it goes with the picture," he said and saw her nod a little before she lowered her gaze again and shut up. But by the time the dean arrived, his daughter had already put on her gloves and was reading again.

But the shot and the kiss still seemed to burn like the cave fire that would await Frollo after he landed in the grave. But as this would still have time, because first the devil would go to the flower sooner or later. Sooner or later she would be his.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

@ria-coolgirl , @hesperia24 , @aliensthegreat , @strangecrowd133 , @her3ge , @fantadym @ranminfan , @siwucha , @cat-lover-nile

#disney #disney movies #the hunchback of notre dame #judge claude frollo #claude frollo #frollo x reader #claude frollo x reader

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