#“I'm not human-” Shut up. You are. Dumb bitch

[baambied]

↪streamer!ellie headcannons

m.list

↳ 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘮𝘦𝘳 𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘦 ━━ her setup isn't the cleanest, old soda cans taking up most of the room... her stream can always spot one in the corner of the screen. One day, it's an old pepsi can, and another day, it's an old sprite can.

↳ 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘮𝘦𝘳 𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘦 ━━ type of person to play roblox games on her stream (especially the scary ones) in her words roblox games are the types of games LEGENDS play

↳ 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘮𝘦𝘳 𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘦 ━━ wifi quality is ASS her fans always wonder how tf she's able to stream, like you're watching the screen and suddenly it freezes before resuming and she's not even on screen anymore (she went to get some snacks)

↳ 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘮𝘦𝘳 𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘦 ━━ cringest person ever, but hey, at least she's free

↳ 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘮𝘦𝘳 𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘦 ━━ when she first started streaming no one knew how she looked like and it wasn't because she didn't show her face it was because her camera quality was so fucking bad to the point no one could clearly see her (but her voice would always go viral)once she did get a new camera her chat went CRAZY which really confused her

"okay chat! so my old ass uncle got me a new camera so how we looking!" ellie said with a stupid goofy grin on her face as she made sure the camera was straight, she than sat down as she looked at the chat.

"uh chat..what's happening- why are you guys acting like you've never seen my face before.." the auburn girl asked quietly in confusion and slightly concerned as she looked at the comments from her stream.

@abczoobys: ZOO WEE MAMA GURL UR FINEEEE

@lesbodotcom: omg we can actually see ypuuuu

@lesbinsmtime:can ur gf fight?

@bigDINAenergy: finally you got rid of that crusty grainy ass camera

@cybergurk67:GURL UR FINEEEEEE

@calokuchis: is that a strap in the back?

@nosoundwhere5:replying to @lesbinstime yk damn well this ho don't get bitches 🤣🤣

"DINA SHUT UP!" ellie yelled in defense for her old, well beloved camera with her voice cracking in the process "OH MY GOD GUYS WAS MY CAMERA THAT BAD?????"

↳ 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘮𝘦𝘳 𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘦 ━━ her headset can't even fit on her head for some odd reason, literally looks like the top is floating which her chat always points out but she just says in defense while touching it "guys it's literally supposed to be like this" with a little stupid grin

↳ 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘮𝘦𝘳 𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘦 ━━ would stop the game to take little breaks and happily show the chat a new t-shirt she got with a stupid slogan "yo chat i got a new shirt- this shit is fireee"

↳ 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘮𝘦𝘳 𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘦 ━━ sometimes she accidentally streams without turning on her other camera so the stream can't see what she's playing, it would literally just be her face in the camera and that's it and the chat is just confused cause they can't see what game she's playing.

"BRO BRO BRO HES CHASING ME CHAT CHAT DO YALL SEE THAT?! HES RIGHT BEHIND ME!" ellie yelled as she continuously hopped in her chair (lol??)

@sonicfasten: wtf

@user183838: can yall see what she's playing?

@usernma5e: her mic sounds horrible 😭

@gayhotqueen: this dumb bitch....

↳ 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘮𝘦𝘳 𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘦 ━━ choice based games are her worst enemy, her chat genuinely got scared when she said that her next game she was gonna play was Detroit Become Human

↳ 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘮𝘦𝘳 𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘦 ━━ swear she would literally discuss the choice with her chat and still end up picking the wrong answer

"GUYS GUYS I DIDN'T MEAN TO CLICK THAT WHAT THE FUCK!" ellie yelled in panic as she tried to click buttons on her controller to try to go back and start over

@sonicgam1ng: HES GONNA DIE NOW

@user6171781: how'd she manage to fuck this up

↳ 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘮𝘦𝘳 𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘦 ━━ she sucke at shooting games, too, but claims she's actually really good at them (she's ass) "chat I'm about to go ham" she claims as she dramatically cracks her knuckels

"chat I swear I'm usually good at this game- im just nervous!"

@elliesgurls: bruh who tf told her to play this again...

@userhshh5: ..put the fries in the bag..

@sonicgoes: NEVER let her touch this game AGAIN

@girlsgoceazy4lesbians: SHES ACTUALLY SO ASSCHEEKS LMFAO

↳ 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘮𝘦𝘳 𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘦 ━━ if she's playing a game and that involves a mic and hears a girl she'd tried to rizz them up "ohmygod is that a girl- chat I'm about to rizz her up" she says rubbing both her hands together, pretending to be nonchalant when in reality she's scared

@lizlivesuh: please don't ellie..

@cyberprinces6s: girl she don't want u

"hey what's ur name pret- OH MY GOD" ellie began to say before her voice cracked so BADLY she immediately rushed to leave the game as she repeated "chat that was so embarrassing that was embarrassing OH MY god"

↳ 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘮𝘦𝘳 𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘦 ━━ she has a bruise on her forehead for constantly banging her head on her mic in front of her when she gets jumpscared by a scary game

↳ 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘮𝘦𝘳 𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘦 ━━ one time joel popped up into her live chat cause a fan found his facebook and gave him a link to her twitch account, which happened to be unfortunate for her cause the time he commented was when she was playing a not so pg game

"guys i think we about to get naked right now i don't knowwwwwww" ellie exclaimed while shaking her head as she looked in the chat, her happy expression quickly faded as her she caught sight of the chat.

@username44: GUYS IS THAT REALLY ELLIES DAD?!

@boombox66: NO FUCKING WAY???

@user678889: BRO???

@lesbinsimisgpod: ELLIE UR DAD 😭😭

"GUYS WHOS DAD?!?" ellie yelled while pausing the game, her mouth halfway open as she looked through the chat in utter confusion

@joelmiller8: hey kiddo, I don't think you should be playing these types of games 🫶 but if it makes you happy

@joelmiller8: also you left your laundry out should I put it in the washer?

"WHAT THE FUCK, WHAT THE FUCK JOEL GET OUT!" the chat is all putting laughing emoji's and tagging joel in random post and comments....(joel recieved over 100 friend request after this😭..)

↳ 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘮𝘦𝘳 𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘦 ━━ ever since roblox added the mic feature NO ONE could separate her from it, trust ellie WILL argue with children on any roblox game.

"that's why your mic sounds like your drowning!" the random kid in the game said as he ran up to ellie's ugly ass avatar, ellie literally has no chill "that's why i was drowning in your mom last night OUUUU YEAH HOE!"

@sonicrisen: HELLOOO???

@gogobro67: THAT'S A CHILD ELLIE 😭😭

@username6o7:BRO HELP I CANT STOPP ELLIE

this is literally her

[boowritess]

notsobaddasssoldier!reader who is kinda a cunt

reader who just doesn't give a shit about the 141 rank or title.

"you think just cause your captain of some lil task force i'm gonna bend over backwards for you? be serious."

"cool you're lieutenant...and.... anything else interesting? like how you think halloween is 24/7, or...?"

"oh so it's a big accomplishment you're sergeant at your big age? tell someone who cares."

you're just so... eh about their ranks. but they get some power trip when you call them said rank. makes them feel some sort of way that depsite your snark, you still call them by rank. showing the clear difference of inferiority and superiority between you and them.

till you notice and shut that shet down.

"your so fucking stupid. it's like if i met The Pope. I'm gonna call him Pope because he's The Pope. I still don't give a shit though."

"or like meeting a Doctor and calling them Doctor. I don't give a fuck that the persons a Doctor. I'll still call em it."

"better yet. hate the king. hate the queen. but i still call them the queen and king. because their dumbassary is just linked to their 'ranks'. if you keep annoying me the same is gonna go for you."

you have so much sass and snark that it becomes a truly humbling experience. and it's like - damn. they could put you over their knee and really put you in your place but reader takes things from 0-100 real fucking quick.

"you wanna what you fucking freak?"

"excuse me-?"

"you're so fucking dumb. get a braincell dumb bitch. do it and fucking find out what happens."

"shot me in the head and watch my corpse not give a fuck because I don't."

and when the guys get a lil too fucking serious about putting reader in their place. reader suddenly has a gun pointed at their face. you see what I mean by taking things to 0-100 real quick?

"dummy. really tryna fuck with me when we're surrounded by guns? fuck outta here with that bullshit."

"matter fact I'd just kill myself-"

"NO!" *141*

it's obvious you may be young and perhaps a little too mouthy for your own good but it's clear you're not going to be pushed around.

but it's obvious you ain't here for the 'greater good' and just doing the work to get the paycheck. while the guys find your snark to be really fucking annoying.

it turns out that you definitely have some perks.

you may not be able to hold yourself very long in battle, just a very basic solider with basic skill sets- your mouth and attitude can really work wonders on people.

in particular, the egotistical rookie who things they're all that. taking their sweet time with basic tasks, belittling other recruits who can do the bare minimum. just in general, an asshole. that's when you step in.

"you ain't shit bitch cause at the end of the fucking day turdface, you ain't bullet proof. i can shoot you right now, and all your running and yapping will cease to exist. your corspe will rot. people will stop knowing you as the loudmouth rookie, and you will just become nothing. infact. you are nothing."

*the recruit opens their mouth. you interrupt.*

"Nothing."

*recruit tries again.*

"Nothing."

it's an endless cycle that ceases when your hardened glare doesn't stop and you pick up a rock intending to throw it at the recruit. the blank, dead, serious look in your eyes showing you are more than fucking serious.

what really works wonders though, is they way you aren't worried about putting a superior in their place. the other 141 have basically been beaten in and to not question anything. they have been made to believe they are weapons more than human.

that gets shut down real quick.

you all have just come back from mission, that was grueling. a couple of you were injured. everyone looked worse for wear. dirts, scratches, blood. someone no longer had their vest. a few lost weapons. barely had any inventory. needing food, sleep, and then a long shower shower.

but instead waiting for the task force, was a superior officer, holding the next mission file. a mission they were supposed to be getting ready for and practically leave as soon as they got back.

before price could grab for it, you intercept. grabbing the mission file and throwing it at the superior officers face.

"you giant fucking anal peice of dried solid dog shit. we're not fucking doing that. we just got back from hiding in a fucking forest for three weeks with enemy surrounding us to get intel from a camp- THAT WASN'T FUCKING THERE. so you better turn and take those pretty polished shoes to another task force."

"what is your name, soldier?" *superior officer growls.*

"Dolly Parton. Now Dolly has just worked longer than a nine to five and Dolly ain't got the patience for dealing with a man like you. i got two bullets left. one for you and one for me. and if you think i won't do it- well we can put it to the test now-"

perhaps it was the utter dead look in your eyes, or the gentle yet seething venom in your tone. the superior officer simply growls and turns on their feet, leaving the task force.

it's funny cause you do get the respect, you are barely a good soldier but dang you can get shit done when need be. so price doesn't transfer you. he still keeps you close.

ghost is the one who loves the feral little shit you are. gaz and you talk mad shit about everyone on base. soap just absolutely adores you, you're the little sibling he's always wanted.

a/n: inspired by the feral nature of gen z.

[midnite-c6]

ICKY RLS NAMGYU ARGUMENT HATEFUCK PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE

< icky namgyu icky namgyu icky namgyu 3 roh jae wons new photos r making me ovulate (respectfully) byeeee 💔 I MISS NAMGYU sorry this fic is 4 the ppl who mstch my freak only 💔

icky!nam-gyu x reader || warnings: DARK content, 18+, hate sex, hair pulling, nam-gyu's an incel & a mysoginist here 💔 (toxic boyfie), dubcon, degradation

◍⁠✧⁠*⁠。for some reason, you stay, despite his CLEAR red flags, despite how he treats you, you stay. maybe because there are some sweet moments (if you squint), maybe because he gives the best dick, but it doesn't outweigh how filthy he is to you, and it doesn't change how he makes your face wet from tears more than your pussy :(, poor little thing.

so it really took all your courage to kindly ask him to clean a lil' bit, since your small shared apartment was disgusting, dishes uncleaned, clothes all over the place, used tissues beside his desk because he just loves to jerk off infront of his computer, even when your laying in your shared bed, he knows it makes you jealous everytime he plays a video of "a girl who's much prettier than you"

"please atleast learn to throw used cups and tissues inside the garbage bag, nam-gyu, can you even smell the place? clean up, right now." the concerned girlfriend you are reasonably argued, walking right behind his office chair, yet, he brushed you off with a laugh and a dramatic groan. he was not one to take you seriously. "really? why make me a sandwich first, dummy." he says, as a joke, of course. after so many jokes just like that one, it can't help but piss you off. like it was your last straw. "please! just clean up after yourself you... pig." he was silenced, turning his face with a look far from amused, "you're serious, cunt?" that name rolled so easily on his tongue, "i'm just telling you to be a grown up-" his hand cuts you off by tugging on the ends of your hair, making you get on his level since he was sitting down, he was furious you'd have to tell him this, "wowwww... you... tryna' teach me how to be an adult?" you can't help but be quieter in these moments.

he stands up, still having a tight hold on your hair. "dumb bitch, you've got no right to tell me shit." he drags you as he walks near your shared bed together, "...you fucking horny jerk- all you think about is sex-!" he throws you easily onto the mattress as he shoves your face into a pillow, cutting you off- again, straddling behind you. "dammit, shut up! you're annoying mouth needs to be quieter, god." your complaints were no muffled. "your thoughtless mind's got no right to tell me anything. got that?" he pushes your head harder onto the pillows, making sure you understand what he's saying. you shake your head in spite, wiggling your body, not wanting to be dominated by him, again.

he groans, "so damn stubborn," pulling your shorts down until its fully off, like it was second nature he does this everytime the two of you fight, already revealing your flushed pussy since he oh-so "politely" asks you to not wear any panties anymore since it's quote-on-quote lets it breathe & makes it healthier. you agree upon than request since he's ripped too many too count, he doesn't care, he doesn't contribute any money to anything you own anyway. "you better say you're sorry, or i'll force you to apologize dumbfuck." his hand releases your hair for you to respond, and snakes to your folds instead. "you're fucking sick... i'm only asking for y... you to be a ..decent human being..."

"that's not an apology." he flips you over, turning you to face him, his hands wrapping on the back of your knees, folding you in half, just to slam his already-hard dick inside, he barely gives you any prep which backfires on him aswell. your tight cunny makes him groan from the sting. "shit- you should be used to this by now, haven't i fucked this pussy enough?" you sob, how were you supposed to defend yourself now?

he starts to effortlessly roll his hips grinding his dick inside you, you can't help but make even more noises, stringing out phrases less meaningful than the last. "y-you sick fuck..hnmh..!" you weren't saying stop, which surprised him for the most part, you were just so overstimulated by the pain he was giving.

"i'm a sick fuck? i'm a sick fuck? maybe the true sick fuck is how easily you suck me in."

"or how your cunt tightens everytime i insult you."

this earned more sobs from you, and he can't help but be proud of himself. he just wants to insult you over and over again. "fucking hell. you're a dissapointment compared to the amateur girls i find on the internet." that always gets you the most, tears building up on the corners of your eyes, of course you can't compare to them.

"look. you're crying." he leans in to lick the tear running past your cheek. also effectively pulling out to slap his dick against your folds, your conflicted in whether to cry at his mean words or cry because he's teasing you. your reaction just makes him chuckle! thankfully he shoves himself back in, "just for you." you know he's only ramming his cock to hit your cervix over and over again so you'll forget about that stupid argument that you he started. "you clean my dick dry, can't you clean the place too?" oh how rewarding would it be to slap that sadistic grin off his face, but unfortunately, you showed him how much of a moaning mess you are... just for him.

and when he folds you further, your legs on either sides of your face, as he cums warm, thick ropes of his seed inside you, making your face contort into an image so lewd, with your eyes rolled to the back of your head and your tongue sticking it out, he sighs. "ah, atta' girl, that's the face i stayed for." he never compliments you so now you and him knows full well how that comment would secure your place as his "lover" cocksleeve for the rest of your life. (⁠灬⁠º⁠‿⁠º⁠灬⁠)⁠♡

guys the chokehold of the mating press on me these past few days. ALSO size difference ughhhhhhhh. i havent checked squid game tag in ahwule i hope the world needs another namgyu hatefuck💓

[gardenladysworld]

Starbound hearts

Status: I'm working on it

Pairings: Neteyam x human!f!reader

Aged up characters!

Genre/Warnings: fluff, slow burn, oblivious characters, light angst, hurt/comfort, pining, NSFW, human x Na'vi, size difference

Summary: In the breathtaking, untamed beauty of Pandora, two souls from different worlds find themselves drawn together against all odds. Neteyam, the dutiful future olo'eyktan of the Omaticaya clan, is bound by the expectations of his people and the traditions of his ancestors. She, a human scientist with a love for Pandora’s wonders, sees herself as an outsider, unworthy of the connection she craves.

So basically this part is a full smut. But here we are :')

Tags: @nerdylawyerbanditprofessor-blog, @ratchetprime211, @poppyseed1031, @redflashoftheleaf, @nikipuppeteer@eliankm, @quintessences0posts, @minjianhyung

Part 18. vol 2: To remember

Part 19: To carry

You drag the brush through your damp hair, wincing slightly when it snags on a knot. Your muscles still ache in the best way possible, a dull throb deep in your bones that makes you feel flushed all over again. It’s been hours since you left the hut with Neteyam, hours since his lips were on you, since his hands—

The door to your quarters slams open so violently that you nearly jump out of your chair.

Kate strides in like she owns the place, eyes locking onto you immediately. Before you can even protest, she shuts the door just as aggressively, spins on her heel, and plants her hands on her hips.

"Spill," she commands.

You blink. "What—"

"Don’t play dumb," she cuts you off, pointing a finger at you like you’re on trial. "I know damn well you weren’t here last night, and I know Neteyam didn’t walk you back like you two promised Norm."

Shit.

Your heart kicks up, heat creeping up your neck. "How do you—"

"Because Norm was confused as hell when you weren’t at breakfast," Kate smirks, crossing her arms. "So I may have told him you got back late, crashed, and overslept."

Your jaw drops. "What?!"

"You’re welcome, by the way," she says, looking far too pleased with herself.

"Kate!"

"What? Did you want him to know you were out all night getting railed by the chief’s son?"

Your face burns instantly. "Kate! How do~?!"

She grins like the menace she is and flops onto your bed, leaning back on her elbows. "So? Tell me everything."

You groan, burying your face in your hands. "Oh my God—"

"Uh-uh," she tuts, kicking at your leg. "Don’t act all shy now. I just covered for your ass. The least you can do is tell me how it was. And don’t lie—I can see it all over your face. You’re glowing like one of those bioluminescent plants on your desk. And your neck…" She pointed towards the few lovebites what was left by Neteyam.

You exhale sharply, dropping your hands to your neck. Kate’s not going to let this go. And, honestly… maybe you do need to talk about it.

Because, holy shit.

You clear your throat, still avoiding her eyes. "We… we started heading back."

"And?"

You swallow. "And… we got a little distracted."

Kate squints. "Define distracted."

Your stomach flips just thinking about it. The feel of Neteyam’s hands on your waist, the way his lips traced over your jaw as you kissed him back, lost in each other—

You shift in your seat. "We started kissing and, um… we never actually made it back."

Kate’s eyes widen. "Oh, bitch."

You let out an embarrassed laugh, pressing your cool hands to your flushed cheeks. "Okay, so we were walking back, just like we promised Norm," you begin, setting your brush down as you turn toward her. "But then we stopped for a second—you know, to talk..."

Kate groans, flopping back dramatically. "Oh, this already sounds like the beginning of a bad decision."

"Oh, it was," you laugh, shaking your head. "One second, we were kissing. The next I was on his ikran towards the hut.

Kate’s eyes widen. "Wait, wait. To the hut? Outside? You little heathen."

"Listen, I didn’t plan for it to happen like that!" You defend, laughing. "But, you know, one thing led to another, and suddenly, we were stumbling back to the hunter’s hut instead of the outpost."

Kate smacks your arm. "So, you lied to Norm too!"

"I prefer to think of it as an unspoken change of plans," you tease, winking. "Anyway, once we got inside, it was over for me. He was all over me, Kate. Like, kissing me, touching me, whispering all this shit in Na’vi—I swear, I have never been this turned on in my entire life."

Kate fans herself. "Okay, okay, but tell me the real tea. How was it?"

Your grin turns positively sinful. "Insane. Like, I didn’t know I could come that hard. Whether he was eating me out or fucking me, it was just—Eywa, I think he ruined me."

Kate makes a strangled noise, her mouth open in shock. "Hold the hell up. He went down on you?"

"Oh, Kate," you sigh, shaking your head. "Not just 'went down on me.' He fucking worshipped me. He had me shaking, sobbing, gripping onto his braids like my life depended on it."

Kate looks like she might combust on the spot. "You’re lying."

"I’m not," you say, eyes wide with sincerity. "He had me coming in, like, two minutes. And then he just kept going."

Kate groans, burying her face in your pillow. "This is so unfair. Why do you get the ten-foot-tall sex god?"

"Because I deserve nice things," you quip, smirking.

Kate lifts her head, her eyes gleaming with pure nosiness. "Okay, but what about the main event? Like, how big are we talking?"

You pause for dramatic effect. Then, with a slow, knowing look, you simply say: "Big."

Kate gasps. "Like, scary big?"

You laugh. "At first? A little, yeah. But Neteyam was so gentle. He was holding himself back, trembling above me because he didn’t want to hurt me." Your voice softens slightly as you recall the way he shuddered, the way he pressed slow, reverent kisses to your skin as he waited for you to adjust. "He took his time, made sure I was okay every step of the way."

Kate sighs, clutching her chest. "Ugh, that’s so hot."

"But," you continue, eyes darkening with memory, "once I told him not to hold back? He lost it."

Kate’s jaw drops. "And?"

"And then he fucked me so good, I think I forgot my own name." You let out a breathy laugh, shaking your head. "I was gripping onto him, telling him how good he felt, and he just—ugh, Kate, the noises he was making? He was so deep, so strong, and when he came—"

"STOP," Kate wails, throwing a pillow at you. "I’m going to die alone, and it’s your fault."

You cackle, catching the pillow as she groans dramatically.

Kate sighs, shaking her head. "So, let me get this straight. You had the best night of your life, your hot alien boyfriend practically worshipped your body, and you’re sitting here acting like a normal person?"

"Trust me," you murmur, stretching slightly as you feel the dull ache still lingering between your thighs. "I am not normal right now."

Kate grins. "Damn right, you’re not. You’re the luckiest bitch alive."

You smirk, leaning back against your bed with a dreamy sigh. "Yeah. Yeah, I really am.”

You stretch your legs out on the bed, still grinning as you let your head fall back against the pillow, the memories of this morning making warmth pool deep in your belly all over again.

Kate, still lying beside you, turns her head toward you, her blue eyes gleaming with anticipation. "You’re holding back on me. I can feel it. What else happened?"

You hum, biting your lip, debating whether or not to keep talking. But then again, when have you ever kept anything from Kate?

So, you smirk. "Okay, so… this morning."

Kate immediately sits up, cross-legged, fully invested. "Yes?"

You sigh dreamily, running a hand through your still-damp hair. "He got up before me, right? And when I finally woke up, he was just sitting there, watching me with this stupidly soft look on his face. Like, full-on ‘you are my entire world’ eyes."

Kate clutches her chest dramatically. "Stop. You’re killing me."

You snicker. "And then—he brought me breakfast. Like, actual food. He went out and got fruit for me before I even woke up."

Kate gasps. "So, he dicked you down and took care of you afterward? Oh, he’s a fucking keeper."

You nod, grinning. "Right? And I thought, oh wow, how sweet of him, he’s letting me eat in peace—but no. That was just his way of making sure I had energy. Because the second I finished eating, he went down on me again."

Kate’s jaw drops. "No. Fucking. Way."

"Oh, yes way." You sigh, shivering at the memory. "Kate, I swear, he was starving for it. Like, I’ve never seen a man so desperate before in my life. It was like years of longing just…” you snap your finger “exploded all at once. Kate, I swear, I have never seen someone eat pussy with that level of dedication.”

Kate groans, flopping back down onto the bed, smacking a pillow over her face. "That is so unfair. So insanely unfair."

You laugh, tilting your head toward her. "I mean, not gonna lie, I thought I was gonna pass out. He just would not stop. I was literally begging him at one point, and he still wasn’t done."

Kate lifts the pillow off her face just enough to peek at you. "Begging him to stop?"

"Yes," you groan, throwing an arm over your face. "Like, I lost count of how many times I came, and he still wanted more.”

Kate lets out an inhuman noise. "I am suffering right now."

You grin, rolling onto your side to face her. "And the noises he was making? Holy shit. He was moaning, growling—at one point, I swear he was purring while his tongue was in me."

Kate slaps the bed. "I need a Na’vi man immediately."

You laugh, stretching your arms above your head. 

Kate is kicking her feet like a schoolgirl. "I need to sit down."

"You are sitting down."

"I need to sit down somewhere else and maybe touch some grass."

You laugh breathlessly. "His face was buried between my legs, and the noises he was making—Kate, I think he blacked out at one point. He kept mumbling shit like 'so sweet' and 'I need more' and 'I could stay here forever.' I was genuinely concerned he was never going to stop."

Kate groans into the pillow. "Did you die? Did you actually die?"

"Oh, I ascended. I left my body. Eywa had to personally send me back because I wasn’t supposed to go yet."

Kate wheezes, but you’re not done.

"And after, when I could finally breathe again, he just—he looked so fucking pleased with himself, all smug and satisfied. So, I was like, okay. My turn."

Kate’s eyes go impossibly wide. "You—"

You nod, grinning. "I went down on him."

Kate shrieks, rolling onto her stomach and kicking her feet against the mattress. "Tell me. Every. Single. Thing.”

You groan, flopping onto your back. "Yeah. And let me tell you—it was a fucking pain in the ass."

Kate frowns. "What? Why?"

You sigh dramatically. "Because of the goddamn mask, Kate. I had to hold my breath every time I pulled it off, and let me tell you—when you’re trying to fit a thick-ass ten-foot-tall Na’vi’s dick in your mouth while holding your breath, it is not easy."

Kate fucking howls, clutching her stomach as she laughs.

You shake your head. "I had to keep stopping to put my mask back on and breathe, but I managed. Somehow."

Kate wipes tears from her eyes. "I can’t—oh my god—you literally risked suffocating just to suck his dick."

You smirk. "And you know what? The noises he made made up for the lung-burning pain.” you continue, enjoying the way she looks like she’s about to die. "And when he came, he growled so deep I felt it in my fucking bones.”

Kate groans. "I cannot believe you’re living my dream right now."

You smirk. "Believe it, baby. It happened. And I can still hear those sounds he made. If I die tomorrow, just know I went out happy."

Kate sighs dramatically. "You’re officially my hero. And also, I hate you."

You giggle, stretching out on the bed. "I regret nothing.”

Neteyam barely steps into the family’s tent before Jake’s sharp gaze locks onto him. His father is sitting near the fire, sharpening a blade, but the moment Neteyam enters, Jake’s expression shifts—his keen eyes narrowing as he takes in his son’s appearance.

“You look like shit,” Jake comments, his tone neutral but laced with something pointed. “Where were you all night?”

Neteyam stills, his body instinctively tensing. He knew this was coming. He had been prepared for it—at least, he thought he was. But now, standing here, the weight of last night still wrapped around him like a second skin, he doesn’t want to ruin it. Doesn’t want to let this moment, this rare sliver of happiness, be tainted by the inevitable disapproval. So, he hesitates.

And Jake notices. His father’s jaw tightens. “I asked you a question.”

Neteyam exhales through his nose, keeping his voice measured. “I was out.”

Jake’s brow furrows, his ears flicking back slightly. “Out where?”

“Just… out.”

Jake sets the blade down with a sharp clank, standing up. “Don’t do that.” His voice is firmer now, carrying the weight of a man who has had to give orders his whole life. “Don’t stand there and dodge my question. I know you didn’t come back last night. So I’ll ask again—where the hell were you?”

Neteyam clenches his jaw, forcing himself to stay calm. He doesn’t want to fight. Not now. Not when his body still hums with the memory of her touch, not when he can still feel the echo of her breath against his skin. But his silence is its own answer.

Jake scoffs, crossing his arms. “You know, you’ve been a little too distracted lately. First, you’re sneaking off, now you’re staying out all night?” His expression darkens. “You need to be better than this, Neteyam.”

And that—that does it. Something in Neteyam snaps. His whole body goes rigid, his breath leaving him in a sharp exhale. “Better?” His voice is quiet, but the sharp edge in it makes Jake’s ears twitch.

Jake doesn’t back down. “Yeah. Better. You’re the eldest, Neteyam. You don’t get to screw around like this.”

Neteyam’s fists clench at his sides. His entire life has been spent being better. He has done everything asked of him. And yet—this one thing, this one thing for himself, and suddenly, he’s failing? The frustration that’s been simmering under his skin for years erupts like a storm. “I have always been better!” Neteyam’s voice rises, his breath shaking as he takes a step forward. “I have always done everything you asked, everything you expected of me!” His tail lashes behind him, his ears pinned back in anger. “I kept my siblings safe. I protected them, even when it meant taking the blame for their mistakes! I led the last Iknimaya yesterday without a single mistake!” His chest heaves. “And now—now, when I do one thing for myself, I’m suddenly the worst son ever?”

Jake’s expression hardens. “This isn’t about—”

“Yes, it is!” Neteyam cuts him off, his voice cracking with emotion. His breaths are ragged, his golden eyes burning with something raw, something heavy. “I have given everything to this family! Every damn moment of my life has been spent proving myself—to you, to the clan! And for what?” He lets out a bitter laugh. “So you can tell me I should be better?”

Jake’s tail flicks sharply, his own anger rising. “That’s not what I meant, and you know it.”

“Then what did you mean, huh?” Neteyam challenges, stepping closer. His whole body is vibrating with unspent energy, his heart hammering in his chest. “Because I am so tired of this, Dad. Of never being enough. Of never getting to be anything other than what you need me to be.” His voice drops lower, filled with something vulnerable, something close to breaking. “For once—I just wanted something for myself.”

The tent is thick with silence, the only sound is their uneven breathing. Jake looks at him, his jaw clenched, his ears twitching as he processes his son’s words. And for the first time, Neteyam doesn’t care if he’s disappointed. Because this isn’t about proving himself anymore. This isn’t about what Jake wants. This is about him.

The silence between them is thick, heavy with words unspoken. Jake just looks at him now, his sharp golden eyes studying his son—really looking at him. And for the first time, he sees not a boy, not the eager child who used to cling to his every word, but a man. A man who is standing before him, chest heaving, fists clenched, his whole body trembling—not with fear, not with uncertainty, but with anger.

A man who has spent his whole life trying to be exactly what Jake expected. And for the first time, Jake wonders if maybe—maybe—he’s been expecting too much. Neteyam swallows, his jaw tight, his ears pinned back as he glares at his father. But beneath the anger, beneath the frustration, there’s something else—something that makes Jake’s stomach twist.

Something that looks an awful lot like hurt.

Neteyam lets out a bitter laugh, shaking his head. “You know what really pisses me off?” His voice is raw, strained, cracking at the edges. “It’s not the expectations. It’s not even the pressure.” His golden eyes burn as they lock onto Jake’s. “It’s the fact that no matter what I do, you always make me feel like it’s never enough.”

Jake stiffens.

Neteyam takes a shaky breath, running a hand through his braids in frustration. “I have always tried to be the son you wanted, the leader you needed me to be. I listened. I obeyed. I put my family, my siblings—the entire damn clan—before myself. I never once complained. Not once.” His voice drops lower, rough with emotion. “And you still look at me like I will never be the man you want me to be.”

Jake exhales through his nose, his expression unreadable. “Neteyam—”

“No.” Neteyam shakes his head, his hands balling into fists. “You don’t get to talk your way out of this. Because I see it, Dad. I see it in your eyes every time I make a mistake. The way you look at me, like I’m failing, like I’m not good enough.” He lets out a harsh breath, his shoulders shaking. “And the worst part? I believed it.” His throat bobs as he swallows, blinking rapidly. “I spent my whole life believing that no matter how hard I tried, I would never be the son you wanted me to be.”

Jake’s jaw tightens, something flickering behind his gaze. Neteyam lets out a broken laugh, shaking his head. “Do you know how badly I wanted to make you proud?” His voice cracks. “How much I needed to hear you say that I was enough?”

Jake swallows hard. Because fuck. He thinks back—to every time Neteyam took the blame for his siblings, to every time he stood tall, unflinching, unwavering, carrying responsibilities that Jake put on his shoulders. And now, standing here, looking at his son—really looking at him—Jake sees it clearly.

Neteyam never just wanted to be a good warrior, a strong leader, the perfect heir. He just wanted to be his father’s son. Jake lets out a slow breath, his shoulders easing as something inside him shifts. “Neteyam.” His voice is softer now, calmer.

But Neteyam doesn’t want calm. Not now. His ears flatten, his tail lashing behind him. “What? Are you going to tell me I should be better again?” His lips curl into a humorless smile. “That I should be the perfect son? The perfect leader? Because guess what, Dad—I am trying. I have always been trying.”

Jake’s expression shifts—his ears twitching, his lips parting slightly, like he wants to say something, like maybe—maybe—he’s finally starting to understand.

But Neteyam doesn’t want to hear it. Because he already knows the answer. His chest still tight with emotion, he shakes his head and turns away. “I have training to do,” he mutters. His voice is steady, but his body is rigid, his tail snapping behind him.

Jake watches him go, his face unreadable, his jaw locked. Neteyam doesn’t look back. He walks out of the tent, his breath heavy, his mind racing.

The younger warriors are already waiting for him, gathered in the training grounds. The same place he’s always been. The same responsibility he’s always carried. Once, he might have thought it was just another duty—another burden placed on his shoulders simply because of who he is.

But now?

Now, it’s his. They are his responsibility. His warriors. His lessons to teach.

The duty his father put on his shoulders. The responsibility that has always belonged to him. He is the eldest. The future leader. And no matter what personal battles rage inside him, he will do what is expected.

And as he steps forward to lead them, pushing down the lingering ache in his chest, he reminds himself of one thing— Even if his father will never see him for who he is, he will still stand tall.

The lab is dimly lit, humming softly with the quiet whir of machines, the faint glow of monitors casting long shadows over the walls. The others have long since gone to sleep, but he knows you haven’t.

You never do.

Neteyam moves easily through the outpost, ducking through the doorway and passing through the airlock with quiet familiarity. He’s been here enough times to know exactly where to find you. Past the main workstations, near the back corner where your massive desk is buried under notebooks, equipment, and scattered samples.

And there you are. Hunched over a microscope, completely lost in your work, oblivious to everything else. His chest tightens with something deep, something warm.

He missed you. He hadn’t realized just how badly he needed to see you until this moment. And it’s ridiculous, because he had you last night—finally, fully had you. And again this morning, wrapped up in you, touching and kissing and worshiping you until neither of you could breathe.

But it wasn’t enough. It will never be enough.

Neteyam steps closer, his large frame casting a long shadow over your workspace, but you don’t notice him. Your brows are furrowed, lips pursed in thought, entirely consumed by whatever sample you’re analyzing. He smirks slightly, shifting his weight before speaking. "You never sleep, do you, syulang?"

The sound of his voice shatters the silence. You jump so violently that you nearly knock over the entire microscope, a startled yelp escaping your lips. Your wide eyes snap up to him, your hand flying to your chest. “Holy shit, Neteyam!” you gasp, breathing hard. “Are you trying to kill me?”

Neteyam grins, but it quickly turns into a wince as you hurl the nearest object at him—a small vial of clear liquid. He easily catches it, holding it up with a smirk. "Throwing things at me now, ma’yawne?"

"You nearly gave me a heart attack!" you accuse, still trying to calm your racing heart.

Neteyam chuckles, setting the vial down on the desk before leaning against it, his tail flicking lazily behind him. "You need to be more aware of your surroundings. What if I was a real threat?"

You huff, rolling your eyes as you retrieve your fallen notebook. "The only threat here is me deciding not to kiss you for scaring the shit out of me."

Neteyam gasps dramatically, placing a hand over his heart. "No kisses? You wound me."

You squint at him, suspicious. "You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?"

His ears flick, the playful smirk still tugging at his lips. "Maybe a little."

You shake your head, sighing. "You are so lucky you’re hot."

Neteyam grins, leaning down until his face is just inches from yours. "Lucky, huh?" His voice drops, warm and teasing. "So you do think I’m hot."

You scoff, trying (and failing) to fight the smile pulling at your lips. "Obviously." You gesture to him, your eyes flicking over his broad shoulders, his golden eyes gleaming with amusement. "You are unfairly gorgeous."

Neteyam hums, smug. "Good to know."

You shake your head, exhaling, and then your expression shifts—your teasing smirk softens, your brows knitting together just slightly as you look at him. Really look at him. "You look troubled, love," you murmur, your voice gentle, but sure.

Neteyam stills. For a moment, he doesn’t move, caught off guard by how easily you see through him. How effortlessly you pick apart the pieces of him, no matter how well he hides them. He swallows, his golden eyes lingering on your face, before he steps forward, moving with quiet intent.

Your chair is small compared to him, the metal wheels scraping softly against the floor as she pushes herself away from the desk when he kneels before you. His massive frame folds with practiced grace, his strong arms sliding around your waist as he rests his forehead against your stomach.

Your breath hitches, but you don’t hesitate. Your hands move instantly to his head, fingers slipping into his thick braids, stroking, soothing. “What happened, my love?” you whisper, pressing a soft kiss against the crown of his head.

Neteyam exhales slowly, his grip tightening around you. And finally—finally—he breathes.

You don’t ask again. You just hold him.

Your small hands cradle his head, your fingers threading through his thick braids with slow, soothing motions. The steady rhythm of your touch is grounding, pulling him back from the storm raging in his chest. And then—softly, barely above a whisper—you begin to hum.

The melody is unfamiliar, but it’s gentle, warm, wrapping around him like a lullaby. Neteyam exhales, his grip on your waist tightening slightly as his body sags against you. The tension in his shoulders doesn’t fully leave, but it lessens—just a little.

Your lips press another soft kiss to his head, lingering there for a moment. “You don’t have to tell me,” you murmur, voice quiet, patient. “But I’ll be here if you need me.”

Something in Neteyam clenches at that. At how easy you make it. You don’t push, don’t demand answers, don’t pry at the wounds he isn’t ready to expose. You just hold him, letting him exist in this moment without expectation.

His breathing slows. Your hands begin to move, sliding down from his hair to his shoulders, your small fingers pressing gently against the tight muscles there. Your touch is featherlight at first, testing, before you start working out the tension coiled beneath his skin.

“My strong warrior,” you coo softly, kneading at the knots in his shoulders, coaxing the stiffness away.

Neteyam shudders. A quiet, shaky exhale slips past his lips. He doesn’t know how to say it—how to tell you that this, you, are the only thing keeping him together right now. So he doesn’t. He just holds you tighter, pressing his face deeper against your stomach, breathing you in, letting your warmth settle into his bones.

You don’t say anything at first—just let him breathe, let him exist in the quiet safety of your touch. Your fingers continue their slow, gentle movements over his shoulders, kneading away the tension that lingers there. The weight of him against you is grounding, and you can feel the way his body slowly relaxes, melting into your warmth.

But you can also feel the storm still lingering beneath the surface—the way his grip on you is just a little too tight, the way his breathing is steady but not quite even.

So, you do what you know he needs.

You start talking.

Softly.

Gently.

Filling the silence with something light, something safe.

“So,” you murmur, fingers tracing idle circles over his skin, “I finally got some readings back on the plant samples Norm brought in yesterday.”

Neteyam hums against you, a wordless sound of acknowledgment. You smile, pressing another absentminded kiss to the top of his head before continuing, keeping your voice quiet, soothing.

“It’s interesting,” you muse, letting your fingers drag down the strong lines of his back before smoothing over his shoulders again. “The bioluminescence is stronger in the younger samples, but as they mature, it seems to fade. Almost like they outgrow it.”

Neteyam shifts slightly, pressing his forehead a little firmer against your stomach. “Strange,” he murmurs, voice low, rough from exhaustion.

You hum in agreement, continuing your slow massage. “Yeah. We’re thinking it might be a defense mechanism—something to deter herbivores when they’re still small and fragile.”

Another hum from him, deeper this time. Encouraged by the way his body is slowly unwinding, you keep going, letting the soft cadence of your voice distract him, pull him from whatever dark thoughts he’s been trapped in.

“I had to run a few more tests, though,” you continue, smiling slightly to yourself. “And of course, Brian managed to spill half a vial of solution all over my desk, so I had to clean that up before I could even start.”

Neteyam lets out a quiet, tired huff against your skin. “Clumsy.”

You grin. “Right? I swear, for a scientist, that man has zero coordination.”

His tail flicks lazily against the floor, the tension in his muscles fading little by little. You keep talking, filling the air between you with easy, gentle words. And Neteyam—whether he responds with a hum, a quiet murmur, or simply the way his arms tighten around you—just listens.

You keep talking, letting your voice stay soft, soothing, your fingers working methodically over the knots in his shoulders. Neteyam doesn’t move, doesn’t interrupt—just breathes against you, his arms locked around your waist as if holding onto you is the only thing keeping him together.

"So," you murmur, letting your fingers trace along the curve of his traps, "Kate noticed something was off with me today."

That gets a reaction. Neteyam’s ears twitch slightly, but he doesn’t lift his head. He just lets out a slow breath against your stomach. You smirk. "Actually, ‘noticed’ is an understatement. More like she interrogated me like a damn FBI agent."

Neteyam hums, barely lifting his head enough to mumble, "What is FBI?"

You grin, fingers kneading into another stubborn knot. "Doesn’t matter. The point is, she knew. The second she saw me this morning, she was all over me, demanding details. You should have seen her, Neteyam. She was relentless."

One of his hands rubs absent circles against your lower back, and you feel his exhale before he speaks. "What did you tell her?"

You roll your eyes, even though he can’t see it. "What do you think I told her? She covered for me with Norm, so I kind of owed her. And, well..." You pause for dramatic effect. "Let’s just say she knows exactly why I was late today."

Neteyam groans, shifting slightly against you. "Skxawng," he mutters under his breath, the sound vibrating against your skin.

You grin. "Oh, come on. Like I could have gotten away with saying nothing? She literally called me out for glowing."

That makes him lift his head—just enough to rest his chin on your stomach, peering up at you with a smug, lopsided grin. "Glowing?"

You flick his ear gently, rolling your eyes. "Yes, glowing. Her words, not mine."

Neteyam just smirks, golden eyes gleaming as he watches you. "So, you told her everything?"

You arch a brow. "Maybe." Then, leaning down slightly, you lower your voice to a playful whisper. "Just enough to make her die of jealousy."

His tail flicks lazily behind him, his ears twitching under your touch. "And what exactly did you say, syulang?"

You sigh dramatically, letting your fingers continue their slow, soothing work on his shoulders. "Oh, you know. Just that I could barely walk this morning thanks to someone big and persistent."

Neteyam growls, the sound low and playful, and you can’t help but giggle. His hands tighten slightly on your waist, his tail flicking again. You grin down at him. "My whole body is still sore," you add, flicking his ear again for emphasis. "So, thank you for that."

His smirk deepens, his ears flicking forward in satisfaction. "You are welcome, yawne."

You scoff, playfully rolling your eyes. "I wasn’t thanking you, skxawng. I was complaining."

Neteyam just hums, looking entirely too pleased with himself. "Mmm. You didn’t sound like you were complaining last night."

You groan, smacking his shoulder lightly. "Oh my Eywa, shut up."

Neteyam chuckles, his warm breath brushing over your stomach as he squeezes your waist, pressing a lazy kiss just below your ribs. "Never."

And despite the exhaustion still lingering in his body, despite whatever weight had been pressing on him before he walked in here—right now, in this moment, he’s lighter. Because you are here. Because you see him. Because you know exactly what he needs, even when he doesn’t say a word.

You watch him in silence for a long moment, your fingers stilling against his shoulders as you take him in. His massive frame is still kneeling on the hard metal floor, his arms wrapped securely around your waist, his head resting against your stomach.

And it makes you frown.

"Neteyam," you murmur, your hands moving up to cradle his face gently. He barely lifts his head, golden eyes flickering up to meet yours. You sigh, brushing your thumbs over his cheekbones. "Get up."

He blinks, his ears twitching. "What?"

"The floor is too hard," you insist, pushing lightly at his shoulders. "Too cold. You can't just kneel here all night."

But he doesn’t move. His arms tighten slightly around you, his tail flicking once before going still. Your frown deepens. "Neteyam."

His jaw clenches for a second, but then, with a small sigh, he finally relents. You guide him up with gentle hands, pulling him toward you until he settles, shifting his weight to sit cross-legged in front of you. The moment he’s fully seated, you pull him in again, his head resting on your lap this time.

A soft smile tugs at your lips as you run your fingers through his braids, watching how this massive, powerful Na’vi warrior—someone who so many look up to, who carries so much responsibility—clings to you like a lost child.

Your heart aches for him. You lean down, pressing a slow, lingering kiss to his temple, your fingers still weaving through his hair. "Want to stay with me for the night?" Your voice is barely above a whisper, gentle and careful, as if speaking too loudly might shatter the fragile moment between you.

Neteyam stiffens slightly, but only for a second. Then, he exhales, melting further against you. His grip on your waist loosens just enough for his hands to slide down, resting against your thighs, grounding himself.

He doesn’t answer right away. But when he does, his voice is quiet, raw. "Yes."

You press another kiss to his forehead, letting your lips linger for a moment before pulling back. Your fingers continue their soothing path through his braids, feeling the tension slowly ease from his body.

Then, your eyes flick toward the wall where the Na’vi-sized exo-masks hang, right next to the airgate.

"Get your mask," you murmur softly, still combing your fingers through his hair. "I know the air here won’t hurt you right away, but you’ll need it."

Neteyam huffs softly, tilting his head to look up at you. "I don’t need it." But looking in your eyes he hums against but doesn’t move immediately. Instead, he nuzzles into your touch just a second longer before finally shifting, his golden eyes meeting yours with something unreadable in them.

Then, with a quiet exhale, he pulls himself up. His movements are slow, unhurried, like he’s reluctant to leave the warmth of your touch, but he eventually stands to his full height, stretching slightly before making his way toward the airgate.

You watch him carefully, your heart squeezing at the way his shoulders sag just slightly, the way his tail flicks in subdued exhaustion. Even in the dim artificial light of the lab, he still looks tired.

Not just physically. But in the way that makes your chest ache. You don’t know what happened today—he hasn’t told you yet. But you’ll wait. You’ll always wait for him.

Neteyam adjusts the exo-mask on shoulder as he walks back to you, his steps slow but sure. His golden eyes soften slightly when he sees you already on your feet, waiting for him. Before he can say anything, you grin, tilting your head playfully. "Come with me. I will show you my palace."

His ears flick in amusement at your teasing tone, but he follows without hesitation as you lead him toward your quarters. The outpost halls are dimly lit at this hour, the hum of machinery the only sound aside from your soft footsteps. Neteyam moves silently behind you, his presence warm and grounding. When you finally reach your door, your fingers hesitate for just a second before you press the keypad to unlock it.

As the door slides open, a sudden, unexpected nervousness creeps in. You step inside and glance over your shoulder at him. "I just realized… you’ve never seen my room before."

Neteyam ducks his head slightly as he steps through the doorway, his massive frame nearly filling the entrance. He straightens once inside, his golden eyes slowly taking in the space. "I know it���s nothing like the kelkus in the village," you murmur, watching him carefully. "But it’s mine."

Your quarters are spacious by human standards, but with Neteyam standing in the middle of the room, he looks comically large. The ceiling is high enough that he doesn’t have to crouch, but the furniture, the layout—everything is clearly designed for someone much smaller.

His gaze drifts around the room, lingering on the shelves lined with books, the soft glow of a lamp casting warm light over your desk, the small personal touches that make this space yours. But when his eyes land on your bed—neat, a bit small by comparison—he glances back at you, a silent question clear in his expression.

How could I fit there?

You see the thought forming before he can voice it, and before he can ask, you answer with a grin. "I’ll make a bed on the floor. So we can sleep together."

Neteyam’s brow furrows instantly. "No. You should sleep in your bed. It is soft. I will be fine on the floor."

Your expression shifts, a knowing look crossing your face as you cross your arms. Neteyam doesn’t even need to hear your reply—he can already see the stubborn determination written all over you.

He sighs. "You are not going to let me win this, are you?"

You shake your head, smirking. "Not a chance."

Neteyam exhales through his nose, a defeated but fond smile tugging at the corners of his lips. Eywa, he thinks, how did I ever stand a chance against you?

Neteyam watches in quiet amusement as you move around your room, gathering blankets and pillows with an easy familiarity. There’s a softness in your movements, a quiet care as you arrange everything on the already carpeted floor, making it feel like a proper sleeping space instead of just cold metal. He notices the small details—the way you fluff the pillows just a little extra, the way your fingers smooth over the fabric like you’re making sure everything is perfect.

The sight warms something deep inside him. When you finish, you step back, surveying your work with a pleased smile. Then you turn to him, your tiny form sitting cross-legged on the makeshift bed as you tilt your head up to meet his gaze.

"Now it’s ready." Your grin is radiant. You pat the thick blanket beside you, your eyes twinkling with invitation. "Come here, love."

Neteyam doesn’t hesitate.

He lowers himself onto the blankets, folding his massive frame beside you with surprising grace. The moment he’s close enough, you curl into him, tucking yourself against his chest. His arms wrap around you instinctively, his body relaxing for the first time since he left the village. The steady, comforting weight of you against him is grounding, and he lets out a quiet, contented breath.

For a while, you both just exist like this—wrapped up in each other, warm and safe. He can feel your breathing, the subtle rise and fall of your chest, the gentle way your fingers trace idle patterns against his side.

But then—you start to squirm.

Neteyam hums in mild protest, tightening his arms around you. "Where do you think you’re going?"

You laugh, wiggling against his grip until you manage to slip free. "I need to take a bath."

Neteyam raises a brow, his tail flicking lazily behind him. "Now?"

"Yes, now," you insist, pushing yourself up. "I stink."

He tilts his head, a smirk playing at his lips. "I don’t mind."

You roll your eyes, shoving at his shoulder playfully. "Well, I do. But I’ll be quick."

Before he can argue further, you’re already on your feet, bolting toward the door on the other side of the room. Neteyam huffs a quiet chuckle, watching you disappear behind it. His golden eyes linger on the closed door for a moment before he shifts onto his back, staring at the ceiling with a soft sigh.

He hadn’t realized how much he needed this—how much he needed you.

Neteyam sits cross-legged on the floor, his sharp eyes quietly scanning your room as he waits for you to return. The unfamiliar space feels strange yet oddly comforting, filled with little details that are so you.

His gaze drifts to your bed first. It’s small, the mattress raised off the ground on some kind of human-made frame. A few soft-looking things rest against one side—round and colorful, with stitched-on smiles. He tilts his head slightly, curious. What are those? Some kind of sleeping companion? He huffs a quiet chuckle at the thought. Humans always have strange customs.

Shifting his attention, his eyes find the opposite side of the room. Your desk. It’s massive compared to the rest of the space, almost chaotic with how many books and small trinkets clutter the surface. The shelves above it are no different, stacked with even more books, old notebooks, and glass vials filled with preserved plant samples.

And then—his eyes catch something else.

A wall of photos.

He leans forward slightly, studying them. There are a few with your colleagues, arms thrown around each other, grinning at the camera. You look happy in them. Carefree. His lips twitch into a small smile at the sight. But then—his gaze lands on an older photo. A much younger version of you stares back at him, standing next to a smaller boy. He is grinning wildly, one arm slung around your shoulders as if the two of you were inseparable.

Neteyam’s chest tightens.

He remembers this boy.

Your little brother. The one who died along with your parents when they were in a car. You never speak about them—not in detail. He knows it still hurts. Knows it’s a wound that never fully healed.

For a moment, all he can do is stare at the picture, taking in the way your younger self leans into your brother, how effortlessly happy you both look. He wonders if you still dream about them. If their voices still echo in your mind when you’re alone. If the weight of their absence lingers in your heart the same way his own burdens weigh on his shoulders.

A quiet sigh escapes him as he forces his gaze away. That’s when he spots it. An old, worn sketchbook tucked among your things. Recognition sparks in him instantly. He knows this book. Three years ago, when you first started visiting the village after your arrival, it was always in your hands. You carried it with you everywhere, constantly flipping it open to sketch the world around you.

He reaches out, careful as he lifts it from its resting place. The cover is slightly frayed from years of use, the edges soft and worn beneath his fingertips. Gently, he opens it.

The first few pages are filled with detailed sketches of atokirina, the small, luminescent woodsprites sacred to the People. He remembers when you showed him one of these drawings, excitement shining in your eyes as you described how you had seen one deep in the forest.

The next pages are filled with plants—Pandoran flora drawn with such careful precision that it’s almost startling. Then, animals. Creatures from the forest and sky, all captured with an artist’s touch, their movements frozen in ink and graphite. As he flips through, a strange warmth spreads through his chest. You were always watching. Always observing. Always admiring everything around you.

Then—near the end of the book—he finds something that makes him still.

A drawing of him.

It’s different from the others. More detailed, more intentional. While the other sketches feel like quick studies, like you were capturing fleeting moments, this one is deliberate. Precise. Every line, every shade of graphite etched with careful attention.

His breath catches slightly.

This is not something you drew in passing.

This is something you studied. Something you spent time on. His younger self stares up at him from the page—strong and proud, his braids falling over his shoulders, his expression thoughtful yet serious. He looks… regal. Almost noble. And suddenly, he realizes—this sketch must be years old. You haven’t carried this book in a long time.

Which means… You were drawing him before you were together. Before you were anything more than acquaintances.

Something warm, something deep and overwhelming unfurls in his chest. How long, ma’tanhi? How long have you seen me like this? His fingers brush over the page, lingering on the details of his face—the curve of his jaw, the careful strokes that form his braids. A small, almost disbelieving smile ghosts over his lips.

He thought he was the one who watched you. Who admired you from afar, who secretly memorized your every movement, your every smile.

But you had been watching him too. And you had been seeing him long before he ever realized it.

Neteyam quickly shuts the sketchbook, hurriedly placing it back where he found it as the sound of the water shutting off reaches his ears. His heart pounds for an entirely different reason now, the warmth in his chest still lingering from what he found inside the old pages.

Just as he settles back, pretending to be focused on something else, the bathroom door creaks open.

He looks up—And immediately forgets how to breathe.

You step out, steam curling around you like a veil, your hair piled into a messy bun on top of your head. Your skin glistens slightly, still damp from the bath, and the only thing covering you is a single, small towel wrapped around your body.

Neteyam’s ears flick back as heat floods his entire face, his blush darkening to a deep shade of purple. His eyes flicker away for a moment, then back—just for a second—before he quickly looks elsewhere, his jaw tightening as he struggles to keep his composure.

You notice instantly. A slow, teasing smile tugs at your lips as you saunter forward, your bare feet padding softly against the floor. His ears twitch again, his tail curling slightly behind him, and you bite back a laugh at how utterly caught he looks.

The mighty warrior, completely undone by you. When you reach him, you lean down, pressing a soft, lingering kiss against his lips. He stiffens slightly, caught between wanting to touch you and keeping his hands firmly in his lap.

Then—your voice, soft and playful against his lips.

"Do you like me?" A simple question. Innocent, yet filled with mischief.

Neteyam exhales sharply through his nose, his golden eyes half-lidded as he fights the urge to drag you onto his lap, towel be damned. His hands clench against his thighs, his self-control hanging by a thread.

"You know I do," he murmurs, his voice lower than intended, rough with restraint.

Your smile widens slightly. "Are you sure? Because you look like you’re in pain, love."

He groans softly, his head tilting back slightly as he closes his eyes, as if pleading to Eywa for patience. "You are testing me, tanhì."

You hum, feigning innocence as your fingers gently trace over his jawline. "Maybe just a little."

You smile at him, your fingers tracing softly along the edge of his jaw before your gaze flickers downward. His fists are clenched tightly on the thick blanket beneath them, his knuckles taut with restraint.

"You know you can touch me," you whisper, your voice gentle, coaxing.

Neteyam swallows hard, his golden eyes flickering up to yours, something raw and vulnerable swirling in their depths. But still, he doesn’t move. Doesn’t reach for you. His body is tense, as if he's afraid that if he does, he won’t be able to stop.

You lean in, pressing a lingering kiss to his forehead, the warmth of your lips melting against his cool skin. "I love you so much," you whisper, your breath brushing over his temple as your small hands slide up his arms, tracing the firm muscles before wrapping around his head, holding him close.

The moment you do, Neteyam exhales, his body shuddering as his forehead comes to rest against your collarbone.

Your scent surrounds him—warm, clean, familiar. The lingering freshness of soap clings to your damp skin, mingling with the natural scent of you. He inhales deeply, breathing you in, his arms finally loosening at his sides.

But the storm in his mind doesn’t quiet.

His thoughts are a tangled mess, everything from his argument with his father to the moment he stepped into your room swirling chaotically in his head. It’s too much, too fast. He doesn’t even know what he’s thinking, only that he feels—everything.

The weight of his father’s disappointment. The frustration, the anger, the exhaustion. But also you. The comfort of your presence. The way your hands move over him, slow and deliberate, smoothing over the tension in his shoulders.

"How can I ease your mind?" you whisper, your fingers still combing through his braids, your voice soft and patient.

Neteyam’s lips part, his breath stalling in his throat.

He doesn’t know. He doesn’t know what will quiet the storm, what will stop the twisting in his chest. He doesn’t even know why he feels the way he does.

And so, without thinking, without meaning to—he asks the first thing that comes to his mind.

"What is cat?"

The words slip from his mouth before he can stop them, and the moment they do, he stills.

You blink.

"What?"

"What is a cat?" he repeats, this time with more hesitation, realizing how nonsensical the question is in the middle of all this.

For a second, there is only silence. And then—A small giggle. His ears flick up, confused, until he feels the way your body shakes slightly against his.

"Oh my god," you mumble, your voice filled with amusement as you press your lips together, clearly trying to hold back laughter. "You're talking about last night, aren’t you?"

Neteyam frowns, confused. "Last night?"

"Yes," you snicker. "After sex, when I said you were like a big cat because you were purring."

His ears flatten slightly in embarrassment. "I do not purr."

You lose it. A loud laugh bursts from your lips, full and unrestrained, and Neteyam immediately huffs in protest, his tail flicking in irritation. "Oh, you definitely do," you tease, grinning as you pull back just enough to look into his eyes. "It was the cutest thing. I’ve never heard a Na’vi purr like that."

Neteyam groans, burying his face in the crook of your neck, as if that will somehow protect him from your teasing. "You are impossible."

"And you are adorable."

He growls softly, nipping lightly at the skin of your shoulder in retaliation, but his lips curl into the smallest, most reluctant smile against your skin. For a moment, just a moment, the weight on his shoulders feels a little lighter.

Neteyam watches as you step away, walking toward the tall shelf across the room. His ears flick forward, tracking your movements, but when you rise onto your tiptoes, reaching for something on the highest shelf—

Eywa help him.

The towel around your damp body shifts, riding up just enough to reveal the soft curve of your bottom. His jaw tightens, his fingers clenching into fists on the blanket beneath him as he forces himself to look away. But he can’t.

His golden eyes remain locked onto you, his breath catching in his throat, and he has to bite back a groan at the sight. He is already struggling to keep his hands to himself, already battling the fire still lingering from the night before, and now—this? This?

"This is cruel," he mutters under his breath.

You finally grab what you’re looking for, a large, heavy book, and turn back toward him. He forces his gaze up—higher—meeting your eyes just as you grin mischievously. "This," you announce, "is an encyclopedia about Earth’s flora, fauna, and every other thing you could possibly imagine." You saunter back toward him, entirely unaware of how close he is to losing his mind, and sit down next to him on the floor, the weight of the book settling between you.

Neteyam exhales, steadying himself.

"And now," you continue, flipping through the thick pages, "I can show you what a cat is… if you’re brave enough."

That smirk. That wicked, teasing little smirk you give him—

Neteyam lets out a low, resigned sigh, his head tilting back slightly. "You are going to be the death of me, yawne."

You giggle, nudging his thigh with your knee. "Oh, hush. Come on, let's find the cat."

Neteyam huffs, his tail flicking behind him as he leans in, peering down at the book, though in truth, he’s only half paying attention. Because you are sitting so close, your bare skin brushing against his, your scent still fresh and warm from your bath, and he’s painfully, painfully aware that you are only wearing that tiny towel.

And worse? You know exactly what you're doing to him.

Neteyam watches as you flip through the thick pages, his tail flicking idly behind him. His curiosity is piqued, though he’s still acutely aware of the fact that you’re sitting so close—your bare skin brushing against his every time you shift.

"Why do you have a book like this?" he asks, his voice low, his gaze flickering between the pages and your face.

You shrug, not looking up as you turn another page. "I like to read it. And look at the pictures."

He hums in acknowledgment, glancing at the detailed images of creatures from a world he has never seen. His fingers twitch slightly, resisting the urge to trace the illustrations of massive forests, sprawling plains, and strange animals with thick fur and small eyes.

Then, your voice softens. "But most of the animals you’ll see in this book are already extinct."

Neteyam frowns, glancing at you. Your expression has changed—your playful smirk replaced with something sadder, something distant. "Extinct?" he echoes, brow furrowing.

You nod slowly, flipping through the pages with a bit more care now. "Gone. Wiped out. Either because of us—humans—or because their world changed too much for them to survive."

Neteyam watches the way your fingers linger on a page depicting a large beast with curved tusks and thick fur, standing in a frozen landscape. His ears twitch slightly at the way your shoulders sag just a little. "I am sorry," he murmurs, his voice gentle.

You give him a small, sad smile, shaking your head. "It's just... strange, you know? Growing up learning about all these animals, seeing their pictures in books and old holovideos, knowing I’ll never actually see one alive."

Neteyam stays quiet, absorbing your words. He knows what it means to lose something—someone. He knows what it means to be unable to go back. After a moment, you shake yourself out of your thoughts and brighten up again, turning to him with a small grin. "Some Pandora animals actually have Earth siblings, you know."

He raises a brow, intrigued. "Siblings?"

"Not real siblings, but they look alike," you explain, flipping through the pages again. "Like, the pa’li—they look a lot like horses from Earth. Same long legs, strong bodies, and fast runners. See?"

You stop on a page with an image of a sleek, four-legged creature with a flowing mane, standing tall in a vast field.

Neteyam tilts his head. "It does look like a pa’li."

You smile. "And then there were creatures like the Great Leonopteryx—on Earth, millions of years ago, we had things called pterosaurs. They weren’t exactly the same, but they were big, flying reptiles with wings."

Neteyam hums, genuinely intrigued now as you continue flipping through the pages, showing him different creatures that once roamed your world. Some are similar to Pandora’s animals, others unlike anything he has ever seen before.

"And now…" You turn a few more pages before stopping on a particular image, your eyes lighting up mischievously. "Here is your namesake, mighty warrior."

Neteyam leans forward to look— And immediately pulls back, blinking in disbelief. "What—" he scowls slightly, pointing at the small, fluffy creature on the page. "This? This is a cat?"

You burst into laughter at his reaction, clutching your stomach as you lean into his side. "Yes! That is a house cat!"

He stares at the picture, utterly baffled. The creature is tiny—soft-looking, with large round eyes and a short snout. Its ears are pointed, and it has a long, thin tail that curls at the end. "This little thing?" Neteyam gestures at the image, then back at himself. "You compared me to this?"

You are cackling now, shaking your head as you wipe at your eyes. "Well, not exactly this one—there were bigger kinds too! But, I mean, listen—cats purr, they’re sleek, they’re graceful hunters, and they can be moody as hell." You give him a pointed look. "Remind you of anyone?"

Neteyam’s ears flatten as he narrows his eyes at you. "I do not mope like a small, fluffy creature."

You grin, poking his chest. "You totally do."

He huffs, crossing his arms. "I am nothing like this ‘cat’ thing."

You sigh dramatically, resting your chin on his shoulder. "You say that, but you’re literally purring right now."

Neteyam stiffens.

His ears twitch.

His tail flicks behind him.

And then—

He realizes.

The soft, low rumbling in his chest. Just because of your closeness.

He is purring.

Your delighted laughter echoes through the room as Neteyam groans, covering his face with one large hand. You nudge him playfully, your grin wide and victorious. "Face it, my love. You’re a big, sexy cat."

Neteyam sighs heavily, shaking his head—but despite himself, he can’t help the small smile that tugs at the corner of his lips. "You are insufferable, tawtute," he murmurs, his golden eyes shining with amusement.

You beam up at him, leaning in to press a soft kiss against his cheek. "But you love me."

And Eywa help him—He does.

Neteyam watches as you turn the pages with practiced ease, finally stopping on another image. You shift the book toward him, tapping a slender finger against the page. "This is a tiger," you say with a knowing smile. "A bigger kind of cat. See? Even the stripes are identical."

His golden eyes drop to the image. The creature is undeniably powerful. Large, muscular, its body covered in sleek orange fur with bold black stripes running along its frame. Its head is broad, ears slightly rounded, and its gaze—though frozen in the picture—is sharp, intense.

Neteyam glances down at himself, at the deep blue stripes running along his own body. Then back at the image of the tiger. A slow exhale leaves him. "This one… I do not mind."

You let out a triumphant laugh. "I knew it! You are a big cat."

Neteyam huffs, shaking his head, but there’s amusement in his expression. He studies the tiger for a moment longer before looking back at you. "And this creature… was it a great hunter?" he asks, curiosity slipping into his voice.

You nod, excitement flickering in your eyes. "Oh, absolutely. Tigers were apex predators—meaning nothing hunted them. They were strong, fast, and incredibly smart. They could take down prey much bigger than them and were known to be patient hunters, stalking for the perfect moment to strike."

Neteyam tilts his head slightly, intrigued. The more you speak, the more he finds himself admiring this Earth creature.

"They were also solitary," you continue, your fingers tracing over the tiger’s image. "Unlike lions, which lived in groups, tigers preferred to roam and hunt alone. They were independent, proud, and deeply territorial."

Neteyam hums, his ears twitching slightly. "So… strong, intelligent, skilled hunter… and prefers solitude." He casts you a sly glance. "Now this, I can accept."

You grin, leaning in close, your chin resting against his shoulder. "See? I wasn’t wrong."

He chuckles, the low sound vibrating against your skin. "Perhaps not, yawne."

Your fingers reach up, brushing idly over the stripes on his bicep. "And tigers were beautiful," you murmur. "Just like you."

Neteyam’s chest tightens, warmth blooming in his core at your soft, genuine words. He turns his head slightly, looking down at you, his golden gaze warm and filled with something deeper—something reverent. "I only care to be beautiful in your eyes," he murmurs, his voice softer now, more intimate.

You smile, your lips brushing against his skin as you whisper, "Then you are the most beautiful thing I have ever seen." Neteyam exhales slowly, his heart thudding steadily beneath his ribs. And, as he watches you grin up at him, eyes bright with affection, he decides—

If being your big cat means he gets to hear you say things like that… He can live with it.

A soft gasp escapes your lips as Neteyam suddenly scoops you up, lifting you with effortless ease. "Neteyam—!" you squeak in surprise, but the sound is swallowed by a breathy laugh as he settles you onto his lap.

His long legs remain crossed as he pulls you flush against his chest, his massive arms wrapping around you securely. The heat of his skin seeps through the damp towel still wrapped around you, and you melt into his embrace, instinctively tucking yourself closer.

"You like to talk," he murmurs against your temple, his lips brushing against your skin. "And I like to listen. But I want you here while you do it."

A warmth spreads through your chest at his words, and you sigh, relaxing into him. You shift slightly, adjusting the book still in your hands, before grinning. "Alright, mighty warrior," you tease. "Then let’s see how much you can handle."

Neteyam huffs a quiet chuckle. "I have faced palulukan and nantang in the forest. I think I can handle a few Earth creatures."

You smirk, flipping the page. "We’ll see about that."

Your finger trails down to an image of a large, grey, wrinkled-looking creature with massive ears and long, curved tusks. "This is an elephant," you say, tapping the picture. "One of the largest land animals that ever lived on Earth. They were gentle but incredibly strong. They lived in herds and had deep family bonds. They were also really intelligent—able to remember things for years and even grieve their dead."

Neteyam hums, golden eyes studying the creature. "It is… strange-looking," he admits, tilting his head. "But wise. Like the angtsìk of Pandora."

You nod. "Exactly! The angtsìk are kind of like elephants, but with more legs and, you know, the whole six-eyes thing."

He smirks at your casual tone, watching as you eagerly flip to another page. "And this," you continue, "is a wolf. They hunted in packs, much like your nantang. They were incredibly loyal to their groups, working together to take down prey. But they were also affectionate, forming deep bonds with their families. Some were even domesticated by humans, evolving into dogs."

"Dogs?" Neteyam echoes, frowning slightly.

You laugh, flipping to another page with an image of a fluffy-looking canine. "Yeah. They became one of our best companions. Humans and dogs formed bonds so strong that they were considered family. Some were trained to help with hunting, others to protect. But mostly, they were just… loved."

Neteyam’s ears flick, considering this. "Strange… that a predator could become a companion."

You shrug, smiling. "Not so strange. You’re a predator, and I love you."

His breath catches slightly, and you glance up at him, smirking.

"See?" you tease. "Not so different."

Neteyam exhales through his nose, shaking his head in amusement. "You twist words too easily, yawntu."

"It’s a gift."

He chuckles, pressing a kiss against your damp hair before nodding toward the book. "Show me another."

You flip through the pages, continuing to tell him about creatures long gone, their stories preserved only in ink and memory. And as Neteyam listens—his arms holding you close, his deep voice rumbling with thoughtful questions—he realizes he could stay like this forever. Just you, your voice, and the warmth of your body against his.

Your voice is soft as you continue flipping through the pages, reading aloud about the animals that once roamed your home planet. Neteyam hums in response, his deep, steady breathing warm against your skin as he listens, his arms still wrapped securely around you.

But then—he shifts.

You barely notice at first, too focused on the book in your lap, but the way his hold on you tightens ever so slightly makes something stir in your stomach. His lips brush against your bare shoulder—just a whisper of a touch—but enough to make you falter for a split second.

You clear your throat, pretending to ignore it. "And this," you murmur, tapping another picture, "is a red panda. They were small, mostly found in trees, and—ah!"

A soft nip lands at the curve where your neck meets your shoulder, sending a shiver down your spine.

"Neteyam—" you huff, tilting your head slightly to look at him, but he’s already smirking, his golden eyes gleaming mischievously.

"Pay me no mind," he murmurs against your skin, lips grazing your shoulder again. "I am simply listening."

You narrow your eyes at him but choose to let it slide. With a small huff, you turn back to the book, flipping to another page. "Fine. Here—foxes. Now, these little guys were known for their cunning and intelligence—"

Another kiss. This time at the base of your neck. You inhale sharply, fingers tightening slightly on the book. "—for being clever and tricky. They were smaller than most predators but used their wits to survive—"

His nose nuzzles into your hair, his lips grazing just below your ear. "Neteyam," you warn, but your voice wavers slightly, betraying you.

He chuckles softly, the sound sending a thrill through you. "Go on, syulang. I am listening."

You exhale, pressing forward, determined to get through this. "Always causing trouble," you continue, voice a bit breathless. "Always outsmarting those bigger than them. And very, very beautiful."

Neteyam hums approvingly, pressing a lingering kiss to your temple before whispering against your skin, "Then it is like you."

You blink. "What?"

He pulls back just enough to look at you, his expression warm and full of teasing affection. "The fox," he repeats. "Cunning, clever, small. Always causing trouble. Always outsmarting those bigger than them. And very, very beautiful."

Your breath catches, warmth blooming in your chest at his words. You open your mouth to respond, but nothing comes out. And Neteyam—satisfied with the way you suddenly look so flustered—grins, tightening his arms around you as he presses another slow, deliberate kiss to your cheek.

"What is it, syulang?" he teases, voice thick with amusement. "Did I render you speechless?"

You huff, rolling your eyes, but the smile on your lips betrays you. "Shut up."

Neteyam chuckles, resting his chin on your shoulder. "As you wish," he murmurs.

But the way his fingers slowly trace circles against your hip tells you that he’s far from finished.

Neteyam smirks faintly every time your voice falters—every time his lips find the right spot on your skin, making you pause mid-sentence. He enjoys how easily he can alter your thoughts, how just a few well-placed kisses are enough to make you forget the words you were reading aloud.

But what amuses him even more is that you have the same effect on him.

Your weight in his lap, the warmth of your body pressed against his, the soft rise and fall of your breath—it’s enough to pull him from the turmoil in his mind, grounding him in the present. The tension from earlier in the day, all fades into the background as you continue speaking, flipping through the pages of the book.

And yet—his thoughts begin to shift. He feels the way your thighs press against his, the way your damp towel clings loosely to your now dry skin, teasing him with glimpses of the softness beneath. His gaze flickers down, watching the delicate curve of your collarbone, the damp tendrils of hair clinging to the nape of your neck.

You wouldn’t say anything, but he knows you feel it—feels the way your breath hitches slightly, the way you shift just a little when you notice how hard he’s growing beneath you. Neteyam exhales slowly, his hands resting on your waist before sliding beneath the towel, his fingertips brushing over the soft skin of your stomach. You gasp softly, your fingers gripping the book a little tighter, but you don’t stop him.

Encouraged, his hand moves higher, his large palm spreading over your ribs before cupping your breast fully, his fingers flexing gently against the soft swell. And just like that—you go completely silent.

The book in your hands trembles slightly as your back instinctively presses against his chest, your body molding into him, as if surrendering to the slow, deliberate way he’s touching you. Neteyam hums in quiet satisfaction, his lips ghosting over your temple. "You were saying?" he murmurs, his voice deep, teasing.

But you don’t answer. And from the way his smirk deepens against your skin, you know he’s very, very pleased with that.

Neteyam tilts his head down, brushing his lips over the side of your neck, slow and deliberate. The warmth of his breath fans against your skin, and he’s pleased when you instinctively tilt your head, exposing more of your throat to him—silent permission, an unspoken invitation.

His lips press against your pulse, then lower, trailing slow, lazy kisses along the curve of your neck. He savors the way your body shivers slightly against him, the way your breath comes just a little faster. His fingers flex against your breast, his thumb dragging in slow, teasing circles over your already-hard nipple.

You bite your lip, looking away, your fingers curling slightly against the pages of your book. "It’s sensitive," you mumble quietly, your voice barely above a breath.

Neteyam hums in amusement, his lips curving into a small smirk against your skin. "Sensitive?" he repeats, his deep voice vibrating against your throat. His thumb brushes over the peak again, slower this time, just to see how you react.

You inhale sharply, your body twitching slightly in his lap, but you don’t stop him. "Hmm," he muses, kissing just below your ear, his voice filled with faux thoughtfulness. "You say that… but you’re not stopping me."

You let out a small, frustrated sound, squirming in his hold, but he only tightens his arm around your waist, keeping you still. "Neteyam," you sigh, half a plea, half a warning.

He chuckles against your skin, his nose nuzzling the spot just below your jaw. "What, sevin?" Beautiful. "Am I distracting you?"

You exhale sharply, rolling your eyes. "Obviously."

His thumb flicks over your nipple again, just to hear the small, unintentional gasp you let out. "You were telling me about these… foxes," he says, his voice dripping with amusement. "But now you’ve fallen awfully quiet, little one."

You swallow, trying to regain some sense of composure. "Maybe if a certain someone wasn’t touching me like this, I could actually finish my sentence."

Neteyam only hums in response, entirely unbothered, his thumb continuing its slow, teasing strokes. "Do you want me to stop?"

You hesitate. And he lives for that hesitation. "That’s what I thought," he chuckles, pressing another slow kiss to your shoulder, enjoying the way your body melts against his.

The book snaps shut so suddenly that Neteyam barely has time to react before you toss it onto the bed. Before he can ask what you're doing, you're already moving—turning in his lap, shifting until you're straddling his thick thighs. The towel that had barely clung to your body in the first place slips away completely, pooling onto the floor, leaving you bare before him.

Neteyam barely breathes.

Your warm, soft skin presses against his, your smaller frame fitting so perfectly against his massive form. His hands instinctively move to your waist, fingers tightening as if he needs to hold you there, needs to ground himself.

And then—you kiss him.

Hard.

A desperate, heated press of your lips against his, all urgency, all need. His breath stutters as he responds immediately, his large hands sliding down your back, gripping your waist as he pulls you impossibly closer. Your lips move together in a hungry dance, your fingers tangling into his braids, tugging just enough to make him groan into your mouth.

"I fucking missed you," you whisper against his lips, your breath hot and uneven. "Since you brought me back to the outpost, I haven't stopped thinking about you."

Neteyam exhales sharply, his golden eyes darkening as he grips you tighter. "I know, sevin," he murmurs, his voice rough, strained. "I missed you, too."

Your hands slide over his broad chest, feeling the way his heart pounds beneath your fingertips. You trail your lips down the sharp line of his jaw, pressing slow, open-mouthed kisses to his skin. Tiny bites follow each kiss, your blunt teeth scraping against the sensitive spots you know drive him crazy.

Neteyam growls low in his throat, his grip tightening on your waist. And then—you grind against him.

Slow.

Deliberate.

Your bare, dripping heat presses against the hardness beneath his loincloth, and a sharp, strangled sound rumbles from his chest. His ears flatten against his skull, his jaw clenching as his fingers dig into your soft flesh. "Tanhi," he exhales, his voice wrecked, strained with need.

Your lips curve into a smirk against his neck. "Yes, ma'Neteyam?" you purr, rolling your hips again, feeling the way his body tenses beneath you.

His control hangs by a thread. And you—his clever, beautiful, deadly little human—are about to snap it.

Neteyam exhales sharply through his nose, his grip on your waist tightening for a fleeting moment before he forces himself to loosen it. You're so soft against him, your warm, bare skin pressing against his in a way that should be comforting—is comforting—but his mind is still tangled in the remnants of the day.

Your nails graze over his shoulders, tracing along the strong muscles that are still taut with tension. "I want to help, love," you murmur, your voice soft, barely above a whisper. You nuzzle into the crook of his neck, inhaling deeply, breathing him in like his scent alone can soothe you.

Neteyam shudders. "You’re so tense," you continue, pressing a gentle kiss to his throat. "Ever since you walked in. You still didn’t tell me what happened. I don’t like it when you are so burdened." Your small fingers find his forehead, tracing over the deep-set furrow there, smoothing over his frown like you can erase the weight he carries with a touch alone. And Eywa, he wishes you could.

"Let me make you feel good," you whisper, tilting your head to press another soft, lingering kiss to the corner of his lips.

Neteyam swallows hard. His chest rises and falls in a slow, measured breath, but the heat of you—your scent, your warmth, the way your body molds so perfectly to his—it’s unraveling him piece by piece. His hands slide up your back, his fingertips dragging lazily over your spine, feeling the way you shiver beneath his touch. His voice is deep, strained when he finally speaks. "You already do," he murmurs. "Always."

But you’re not satisfied with that answer. You shift in his lap, rolling your hips with purpose, making a quiet, breathy sound when his hardness presses right against your soaked folds. Your nails dig in slightly against his shoulders, your lips brushing against his in a barely-there kiss.

"Then let me show you," you whisper.

Neteyam lets out a deep chuckle, his golden eyes glinting with amusement as he watches you fumble with the knots of his loincloth. Your fingers, so small compared to his, tug at the fabric in frustration, your brows furrowing in concentration.

"Need some help, syulang?" he teases, his voice rich and warm, a faint smirk tugging at his lips.

You huff, shooting him a playful glare before nodding begrudgingly. "It’s not fair," you say with a pout, your fingers pausing as you let him take over. "Yours are always tied so damn tight."

Neteyam laughs, shaking his head before effortlessly loosening the knots with a few deft movements. You barely have time to react before his loincloth is discarded behind you, his hardened length finally freed. Your breath catches slightly as you glance down, and Neteyam catches it instantly. His smirk grows.

"What?” he murmurs, tilting his head, his ears flicking forward in interest. "Intimidated, yawne?" You scoff, rolling your eyes before shifting forward, letting your slick folds drag along his length in a slow, teasing grind. Neteyam groans, his hands tightening on your hips, fingers pressing into your soft skin as he watches you with dark, hooded eyes. "Eywa..." he breathes, his voice rough, strained.

You bite your lip, smirking as you press a slow kiss to his lips. "You’re so big," you murmur against his mouth, your breath warm, teasing.

Neteyam’s grip flexes, his tail curling behind him, the restraint in his body evident. His golden eyes burn as they flicker between your face and where your bodies are pressed together. "And yet," he growls, his voice low and full of challenge, "you take me so well, yawne."

A shiver ripples through you at his words, your fingers sliding up his chest, feeling the way his muscles tense beneath your touch. "Then let me take you again," you whisper, your lips ghosting over his, your voice filled with nothing but hunger.

Neteyam groans, his grip tightening on your hips as he feels the desperate roll of your movements against him. Your slick folds glide along his hard length, coating him with your arousal, the friction making his breath hitch. "Please let me..." you practically purr, your voice dripping with need as you slowly reach down, your delicate fingers wrapping around his thick length.

His breath stutters as you lift yourself slightly, guiding him toward your entrance. His ears flick back, a flash of concern flickering across his face. "Syulang," he murmurs, his large hands bracing your waist, holding you still. "You’re still sore from this morning. If you go too fast—"

You silence him with a deep, lingering kiss, your lips soft but insistent against his. He melts into it instantly, groaning as your fingers tighten around him, lining him up with your dripping entrance.

And then, slowly, you sink down. Neteyam grits his teeth, his whole body tensing as you take him inch by inch, your warm, tight walls stretching around him once more. A strangled moan escapes your lips as your head falls forward, your breath coming in short, uneven gasps.

You’re still so sensitive—still raw from his love earlier—but you don’t stop. Your nails dig into his shoulders as you push past the lingering ache, determined to take all of him. You bite your lower lip, your brows furrowing as you adjust, as you stretch wide to accommodate his size.

Neteyam curses under his breath, his fingers flexing against your waist as he watches you, utterly transfixed. The sight of you—your face flushed, your lips parted, your body trembling as you take him so deeply—nearly undoes him.

"Ma’tanhi..." he breathes, voice rough with restraint, his ears pressing flat against his head. "You are—"

"Perfect," you whisper, finishing his sentence with a small, breathless smile. And then, you rock your hips.

Neteyam lets out a strangled whimper as your hips roll over him, the slow, torturous drag of your tight heat around him making his head spin. His grip on your waist tightens, blunt nails pressing into your soft skin as if trying to ground himself, to hold back the instinct to thrust up into you.

His golden eyes flicker toward the door for just a second, concern flashing across his face.

You notice. A small, knowing smile tugs at your lips as you lean in, pressing a lingering kiss to the corner of his mouth. Your movements don’t stop—your hips continue their slow, teasing grind against him, the delicious friction sending shivers down both of your spines. "Every room is soundproof," you whisper, your breath warm against his lips.

Neteyam groans, his whole body shuddering at your words. His restraint is already hanging by a thread, and the knowledge that no one will hear—that he can finally let go, fully and completely—makes something inside him snap. His hips twitch up involuntarily, sinking deeper into you. You moan—loudly.

The sound echoes in the small room, unfiltered, raw, and it sends a sharp wave of heat through both of you. Your eyes widen as a deep flush spreads across your cheeks. "Oh, fuck—"

Neteyam exhales sharply through his nose, his ears twitching, his expression darkening with pure need. His hands slide up your back, gripping you tighter, keeping you close as he leans in, his voice a low, rough murmur against your ear. "Again," he growls. And then, he thrusts up into you.

Your whole body trembles as you take every inch of him, your moans turning into desperate, broken cries with each deep, punishing thrust. Your hands clutch at his shoulders, your nails dragging across his blue skin as pleasure crashes through you in relentless waves.

"F-Fuck—Neteyam—"

He groans at the way you say his name, his ears flicking back, his golden eyes blown wide with hunger as he watches you fall apart above him.

"That’s it, yawne," he murmurs, his voice low and wrecked. "Take it. Take all of me."

His hands grip your hips tighter, guiding your movements, making sure you feel every inch of him as he fills you completely. Your body is so soft, so pliant in his hands, like you were made for him. And fuck, the way you squeeze around him—he swears he might lose his mind.

Your thighs burn from the effort of moving, but you don’t stop. You can’t. Not when he’s pressing into every perfect spot inside you, dragging pleasure from you so intense it borders on unbearable.

"You feel so good, ma’syulang," he groans, his head tilting back, his grip on you tightening. "So perfect around me—"

Your whole body jolts as he angles his hips just right, and you choke on a gasp, your hands flying to his braids for something—anything—to hold onto. "Oh, fuck—!"

Neteyam smirks, the sight of you writhing, completely at his mercy, sending a deep, primal satisfaction through him. "Right there?" he teases, rolling his hips again, hitting that spot with devastating precision.

Your breath shudders, your fingers tangling in his braids as you try to ground yourself, try to hold back the release building too fast in your core. "Neteyam—too much—" you whimper, squeezing your eyes shut, trying to slow down, to edge yourself, to drag this out— But you can’t.

"Don’t fight it," he growls, his voice thick with need. "Let go for me, yawntu."

"I—I can’t—"

"You can," he insists, thrusting up into you harder, deeper, keeping you exactly where he wants you. "Come for me."

The coil inside you snaps. A sharp, broken cry tears from your lips as pleasure crashes over you, your whole body convulsing, your nails digging into his shoulders as you shatter completely.

"That’s my girl," Neteyam groans, feeling you tighten around him, your walls pulsing in the aftershocks. "So fucking beautiful when you come."

He doesn’t stop. He keeps fucking into you, chasing his own release, his movements growing rougher, more desperate as he uses your soft, trembling body to push himself over the edge.

"You can give me one more, syulang," he pants, his breath hot against your neck. "One more—just for me—"

"Nete—I—!"

But you can’t fight it. He’s too deep, too perfect, pressing into every spot that makes you fall apart, and before you can stop it— Your whole body seizes as another orgasm rips through you, white-hot and overwhelming.

"Fuck—yes," Neteyam groans, his hips stuttering as he finally lets go. He buries himself as deep as he can, pressing your hips down against him as he fills you, his release spilling inside you, hot and thick.

The sensation pushes you over the edge one last time, your body clenching around him, milking him for everything he has. Neteyam lets out a deep, shuddering moan, his grip on you unyielding as he presses his forehead to your shoulder, breathing hard. His tail curls tightly behind him, his whole body still trembling from the force of it.

For a long moment, the only sound in the room is your ragged breaths, your body still wrapped around him, completely spent.

Then— A breathless laugh tumbles from your lips as you slump forward against him, pressing your forehead to his.

"You—" you gasp, still trying to catch your breath.

Neteyam chuckles, still trying to steady himself. "You’re the one who climbed into my lap, yawne."

You roll your eyes, your fingers lazily tracing over his damp skin. "You were brooding. I had to fix that."

Neteyam hums, pressing a slow, lingering kiss to your lips. "And you did," he murmurs, his voice softer now, full of something deep, something endless.

You smile against his lips, nuzzling your nose against his. "Good."

Neteyam leans back against the edge of your bed, his broad shoulders resting against the frame, his arms still wrapped securely around you. You’re draped over him, completely boneless, your cheek pressed against the warm skin of his chest. He’s still buried deep inside you, not moving, but still throbbing with each slow beat of his heart. The heat between you is sticky, your bodies tangled together in the aftermath of pleasure.

You murmur something against his skin, but it’s too soft for him to catch.

Neteyam hums, running a hand lazily down your spine. "What was that, yawntu?"

You exhale, nuzzling against him, too content to move. "I said…I feel so blessed."

He stills for a second, his arms tightening around you slightly before he lets out a deep, satisfied chuckle. "As you should, my love."

You roll your eyes, but the lazy smile on your lips betrays you. "I meant blessed to have you, skxawng."

"Mmm." He nuzzles his nose against your hair, inhaling your scent, still thick with sweat and sex. "I think I am the blessed one."

You hum softly, your fingers tracing idle patterns over his chest. "Then we are both lucky."

Neteyam grins, tilting his head down just enough to press a kiss to your temple. "Maybe. But you seem more exhausted than I am, yawne."

You let out a breathy laugh, tilting your head up to look at him. "I think you broke me."

Neteyam smirks, his fingers sliding down to cup your ass, pulling you just a little closer against him, pressing himself even deeper inside you. "After only one round?" His voice is pure sin, deep and teasing. "Tsk, tsk. And here I thought my little human could keep up with me."

You groan, burying your face against his chest. "Fuck off, Neteyam."

"No, no." He grins, his thumb rubbing slow circles over the curve of your hip. "You started this, syulang. Now I’m just wondering… how many more rounds would it take to get me to your level of exhaustion?"

You flush hard, your fingers tightening against his skin. "You’re insatiable."

"Only for you, ma yawntu," he murmurs, his lips brushing against your hairline. "Maybe I should test your limits."

Just to prove his point, he rolls his hips ever so slightly, not enough to be deep, but just enough to feel you clench around him. "Fuck—" You gasp, your fingers digging into his shoulders.

Neteyam groans at the feeling, his golden eyes darkening as he watches your reaction. "Oh?" he purrs, his smirk growing. "You liked that?"

You swallow hard, trying to keep your body from reacting, but it betrays you. You shift slightly, and the movement sends another pulse of pleasure through you, making you clamp down around him again. Neteyam hisses between his teeth. "Mmm, syulang…" His grip on you tightens, his voice thick with amusement. "You keep doing that, and I’m not going to let you rest."

"Then stop talking dirty to me," you mumble against his chest.

He chuckles, his tail flicking lazily behind him. "Oh, but I love seeing you react like this." His large hands slide down your back, kneading your soft skin. "So sensitive, so responsive. All mine."

You groan in frustration, lifting your head just enough to glare at him. "You’re the worst."

Neteyam just smirks, his golden eyes glinting mischievously. "And yet, you’re still sitting on me."

Your face burns. "I hate you."

"No, you don’t." He grins, rolling his hips again, drawing another sharp gasp from your lips. "You love me."

You squeeze your eyes shut, your nails raking lightly against his shoulders as another shiver runs through you. "Fuck—"

"Want me to prove it to you again, yawne?" His voice is pure temptation, his hands already shifting, ready to flip you onto your back.

And, Eywa help you…

Neteyam moves before you can even react. With effortless strength, he flips you onto your back, his massive frame hovering over you as your body melts into the soft blankets. Instinct takes over—you immediately try to wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him closer.

His ears flick at the movement, his golden eyes glinting with amusement. "So eager," he teases, his voice deep and husky as he settles between your thighs.

Your face burns, and you turn your head to the side, avoiding his gaze. But that only gives him the perfect opportunity to dip his head, his warm lips finding the sensitive pulse at your neck. His teeth graze your skin before he presses a slow, open-mouthed kiss there, reveling in the way your breath stutters.

"Where is my reckless scientist?" Neteyam murmurs against your neck, his breath hot, teasing. "The one who talks back, who teases me without fear?"

A shiver runs down your spine as he presses another kiss lower, his hips rolling forward in the same moment. The slow, deliberate slide of him inside you makes you gasp, your fingers tightening against his shoulders.

"Mmm, there she is," he purrs, nipping at your jaw before lifting his head to look at you properly. "I thought I lost her for a second."

You bite your lip, breathless, but a small, teasing smile tugs at your lips. "She’s here, but she’s a little… preoccupied right now."

Neteyam chuckles, a deep, warm sound that vibrates against your skin. "Good."

And then—he starts to move. His hips rock against yours in a slow, deliberate rhythm, savoring the way you stretch around him, the way your body welcomes him so perfectly. He grunts softly, feeling how impossibly tight you still are, and you arch against him, pressing your chest flush to his as a breathless chuckle slips past your lips. You –this little demon in human skin– was laughing.

"What’s so funny?" he murmurs, pressing his forehead to yours, his golden eyes burning into yours as he keeps up his slow, devastating thrusts.

"You, my mighty warrior," you whisper, breathless. "All gruff and strong now… Where was this confidence before, hmm?"

A smirk curls on Neteyam’s lips. "What do you mean?"

You mock a pout, your fingers trailing up to tangle in his thick braids. "Where is my aloof Neteyam? The one who got all flustered when I touched his tail for the first time?"

Neteyam stills for just a fraction of a second—before a slow, wicked grin spreads across his lips.

"Oh, syulang," he purrs, his voice dropping into something dangerously low. "That Neteyam is gone." He growls playfully, his tail flicking behind him. Instead—he picks up the pace. Your teasing dies in your throat, replaced by a sharp gasp as his hips snap forward, driving into you harder, deeper. The new angle has you seeing stars, your legs tightening around him as you gasp his name.

"Ah—Neteyam—"

He grins against your cheek, pressing kisses along your jaw as he keeps up his relentless rhythm. "What was that?" he teases, his voice thick with pleasure.

You can’t answer. You can’t even think. Your body tightens around him, the pleasure hitting you too fast, too hard. "Oh, fuck—" you whimper, your nails digging into his back as your release slams into you, sending waves of ecstasy crashing through your veins.

"That’s it, yawne," Neteyam groans, feeling you tremble beneath him. "Come for me."

You do. You fall apart completely, clinging to him as pleasure wracks your body, leaving you panting and gasping against his chest. But Neteyam doesn’t stop—he’s chasing his own release now, and the way your walls flutter around him only pushes him closer to the edge.

"Fuck—so tight," he grits out, his movements growing more erratic, more desperate.

It should be too much. You should be too sensitive.

But the way he fucks you through it, the way he holds you so close, the way he fills you so completely— It’s too good. And before you can stop it, another orgasm tears through you. "Neteyam—" You barely manage to choke out his name before your body convulses again, pleasure crashing over you for the third time tonight.

"Eywa—" Neteyam curses, his entire body tensing as your walls squeeze around him. "Fuck, yawne—" He groans, burying his face against your shoulder as his hips stutter, and then—he spills inside you, his release warm and thick as he groans your name like a prayer. His arms shake as he holds himself above you, his breath hot and ragged against your skin, his heart hammering against yours.

For a long moment, neither of you move. The only sound in the room is your heavy breathing, your bodies still tangled together, still trembling from the intensity of it all.

Neteyam finally lifts his head, his golden eyes locking onto yours, still hazy with pleasure but filled with something deeper—something warm, something unspoken. He smirks, still panting as he braces himself on his elbows above you. "Three times, yawne?" he muses, brushing a strand of damp hair from your face. "I think that’s a new record."

You groan, covering your face with your hands. "Oh shut up."

He chuckles, pressing a soft kiss to your temple. Neteyam’s smirk softens into something unbearably tender, and he leans down, kissing you slow and deep, as if sealing the words between you.

Neteyam lets out a slow, steadying breath as he finally pulls out of you, his muscles still tense from the aftershocks of pleasure. His golden eyes flicker down, watching as his seed slowly drips from your thoroughly used core, and something primal stirs inside him at the sight. But instead of acting on it, he shakes his head with a soft chuckle, leaning back to search for the discarded towel.

He spots it a few feet away, abandoned where you threw it at the start of your heated night. With a satisfied sigh, he reaches for it and gently begins to clean you up, making sure his movements are slow and careful, not wanting to overstimulate your already trembling form.

You giggle softly, your body still humming with pleasure, and you stretch lazily beneath him, grinning like an idiot. "It was so good," you sigh, voice hazy with exhaustion and bliss.

Neteyam smirks, shaking his head as he wipes away the last traces of your joined pleasure. "Of course it was," he murmurs, his tone teasing but full of warmth. "I always take care of you, don’t I, ma’yawne?"

You hum in agreement, then reach up, your fingers curling around the back of his neck as you tug him down toward you. "Kiss me," you whisper, your breath ghosting over his lips, eyes half-lidded and pleading.

Neteyam doesn’t hesitate. His lips find yours in an instant, the kiss deep and slow, full of something tender. He takes his time, savoring the moment, feeling the way your body relaxes further beneath him as you melt into his touch.

When he finally pulls away, he shifts beside you, lying down next to you on the nest of blankets and pillows you made together. You sigh contentedly, your hand reaching out, searching blindly for something on the floor next to you. Neteyam watches with a raised brow as you grab his mask, pulling it closer before pressing it into his hand. "You should breathe in it," you mumble sleepily, your eyes fluttering closed as you push the device toward him.

Neteyam hesitates for a second before taking it, his fingers curling around it as his ears flick at your quiet words. "I always worry about you when you don’t wear it here in the outpost," you admit, your voice barely above a whisper.

His chest tightens at that—at the way you always think about him, always care for him, even when you’re barely awake. He presses a soft kiss to your temple before lifting the mask to his face, breathing in the filtered air. "I know, syulang," he murmurs, his voice full of something deep and unspoken. "I’ll be fine."

But as he watches you drift off beside him, your small hand still resting against his chest, he realizes—being here, with you, breathing the same air, lying tangled in your warmth—this is the only place he ever wants to be.

Neteyam holds you close, his arms wrapped securely around your smaller frame, his long fingers tracing idle patterns along your bare back. The warmth of your body against his soothes something deep inside him, and without realizing it, a soft, contented purr vibrates through his chest.

You fit so perfectly against him—so small, so fragile, yet strong in ways that never ceased to amaze him. He breathes you in, his nose brushing the top of your head, his tail lazily curling and uncurling as the lingering tension in his body slowly fades.

He thinks you’ve already fallen asleep. But then—

"What happened today, Neteyam?" Your quiet whisper breaks the silence, soft and hesitant, but it still sends a ripple through him. His fingers pause against your back for just a second before resuming their slow caresses. "Why were you so tense?"

You don’t press him, don’t demand an answer—just ask, and wait, giving him the space to speak when he’s ready.

Neteyam exhales slowly, his eyes staring at the ceiling of your small room, his mind drifting back to the conversation with his father, to the weight of expectations, to the frustration that had been simmering in his chest all day.

He swallows hard. "It’s nothing," he murmurs, though even he doesn’t believe the words.

Your fingers, which had been resting lightly on his chest, move—tracing up, pressing gently against his jaw, tilting his face down just enough for him to see the way you’re watching him, even in the dim light.

"Neteyam," you whisper, "don’t do that. Not with me."

Something in him cracks.

Neteyam stares at you, his golden eyes searching your face, his jaw tight as if he’s still debating whether to let the words escape or swallow them down like he always does.

"You are not alone anymore," you whisper, your voice soft but firm, your thumb brushing gently over his cheekbone. "You don’t have to carry everything alone. Tell me, please."

His throat bobs, and for a moment, you think he might shut you out again. But then—he exhales sharply, closing his eyes, as if something inside him finally gives way. "My father…" His voice is rough, strained. "He asked where I was last night. He saw that I was… happy. And still, the only thing he could do was scold me."

Your brows furrow, and you stay silent, letting him continue.

"He told me I should be better," Neteyam says bitterly, his jaw clenching. "That I should always be better." His ears flatten slightly, and his fingers twitch against the blankets. "I have spent my entire life doing everything he asked. I have never disobeyed him, never given him a reason to doubt me. I protected my siblings, even when it meant taking the blame for things they did. I have done everything he wanted—" His voice cracks for a second, but he swallows it down. "And yet, the one time I want something for myself… suddenly, I am the worst son."

Your chest tightens.

"Neteyam…" you whisper, reaching for him, but he shakes his head.

"It’s never enough," he breathes, his voice raw, exposed. "I will never be enough." The pain in his voice, the frustration—the deep, aching wound that has clearly festered for years—it nearly breaks you.

"That’s not true," you say, firm but gentle. "You are already enough, Neteyam. You always have been."

His ears twitch, but he doesn’t respond.

You take a breath, carefully choosing your words. "When I was in the village with the other scientists, I always heard about you." You reach out, threading your fingers through his braids, grounding him. "The other Na’vi speak of you with such admiration. They see you, Neteyam. They see how hard you work, how strong and kind you are. They respect you, they look up to you. You are everything they could hope for in a future leader"

Neteyam blinks, his eyes searching yours, like he wants to believe you but doesn’t know how.

"And your father?" you continue, brushing his hair back from his face. "I know he loves you."

Neteyam scoffs, but it’s weak, half-hearted.

"He does," you insist. "I know it might not feel that way, and maybe he doesn’t always show it the way he should. But you are his firstborn. His son. And I promise you, Neteyam, he loves you."

His breath shudders slightly, his face unreadable. You don’t push him to answer. Instead, you reach for him, gently pulling him closer. And after a moment, he lets you.

His massive body shifts as he wiggles down, pressing his head against your chest, his arms circling your waist, holding onto you. From an outside perspective, it must look ridiculous—the strong and powerful Na’vi, curled up against someone half his size, clinging to you like a lost child. But to you, it is the most natural thing in the world.

You cradle him close, your fingers slipping into his hair, massaging the base of his skull as you feel the weight of his body against yours. He exhales slowly, his breath warm against your skin, his tension finally beginning to ease.

You press a soft kiss to the top of his head, whispering, "You are doing a good job, my love. You always have."

Neteyam doesn’t respond, but you feel it—the way his arms tighten around you, the way his breathing steadies, the way his entire body melts against yours. And when you continue running your fingers through his braids, still holding him close, you hear it again—his soft, contented purr vibrating against your chest.

I guess I just wanted to write a fluff smut part before the pain

¯\_( ◉ 3 ◉ )_/¯

Part 20: To suffer

[hyhkai]

k.taehyun — dangerous woman!

[ 📚 ] after accidentally eavesdropping taehyun talking with his friends, you've got a question unanswered, a question which is straight up hilarious because it shouldn't be asked in the first place.

content : plot sprinkles, dom!reader sub!tyun, taehyun goes around calling the reader his wife/girlfriend, 'taehyun likes smart girls' agenda, public (in the empty auditorium), blowjob, degradation (m. rec.), making tyun swallow his own cum hah

a/n ; NEEDS TO BE EDITED! idk why I named it dangerous woman for angie and smiles txt birthday event + technically written off of my this thought but it doesn't appear in the limelight as brightly. though i still abide by it and always will. i have no clue how auditoriums look in your guys' vision but 🙏

"what're you even trying to do? makeout with me?" he asked as you pulled him aside from the piled hallway and led him to the top floor.

"trust me," you looked back at him, agony filled eyes. "kissing you is the last mistake I want to make, and I make a lot of mistakes."

he chuckled, god, he chuckled. he has some guts. "if you've started to make mistakes, then I'm a failure, noona."

he's always been like this. you wondered if he had some borderline obsession with you. which, now that you've found out the shit he's been going around blabbering — he definitely is obsessed with you.

almost throwing the two of you into the auditorium when you spotted a council member; you shut the door behind yourself as you stared at him, pulling his backpack onto his shoulder. "I'm actually starting to think you want to kiss me. it could've been in the cafeteria, no? why hide like we're middle schoolers?"

you shook your head no. "i already told you, I'd never kiss a dumb dog like you."

"then what are we here for?"

"why are you telling your friends I'm your girlfriend?"

silence. for about a minute. or two.

"i didn't." he said, turning back and walking to one of the chairs, sitting on the one at the corner. he's seriously planning to pretend, that he didn't go around saying you both fuck everyday.

"I don't like liars." you mumbled, walking behind him and letting yourself fall onto the chair right beside him, knees buckling. "what kind of a lie is this? we both are stuck in a loop of arguments and flirting. what makes you want to go around saying I'm your girlfriend?"

"I felt like it." he said dryly, eyes cast down at his fingers as they fidgeted.

"felt like it? you—" you closed your eyes in annoyance, nostrils flaring as your neck turned to look at him. "you felt like telling everyone that I'm your girlfriend? me of all people?" you hissed, he's such a bitch. fucking asshole.

it takes the average human being to start dating after 1-3 months of knowing each other, but it took taehyun one month to walk you down the aisle in his puerile dreams.

"well, why not you?" he asked, looking down at your fingers that were sprinkled with ink. you'd never dated any of the guys around here — because they're such bitches. what about the one in front of you? very evident.

"because I'm never going to really date you!" you almost yelled, lowering your noise when you heard your voice hit the walls of the empty auditorium.

"okay whatever, what're you gonna do about it?" he huffed out, his arms escaping the straps of his backpack.

motherfucker.

you looked away, this boy was making you so demented. you wished you were corrosive and could just touch him and destroy his entire existence in the moment.

and that's when it hit you. your touch... could destroy him. hell, it could probably make him dumb, to say the very least. you looked back to see taehyun, sitting there, staring at you with big big eyes, looking like he's going to swallow you whole.

"what?" you tore the silence apart, taehyun fluttering his eyelashes as he eyed you. the boy is still checking you out. "have some goddamn decency."

"I can't." he said, leaning in, leaning in close so close you wanted to flick his forehead and slap him across the face. he's always been like this for you since the day you put him in his place. he's been like a damn dog, like he wanted to be walked around by you since that day.

"then learn how to!"

"teach me, noona."

and so you did. so you did. and he's going to learn. he's going to learn to never annoy you again.

"noona—"

his eyes widened when your hand went straight for his crotch. fuck. you placed your hand on his cock, in the corner of the auditorium, after school hours.

"shut up. this is what you wanted, didn't you? you're filthy." and he, an exuberant kitten had turned into a lethargic dog. a dumb dog. "you're welcome for this. you're welcome."

"you— you-. what are you even thinking?" he asked, eyes wide as he leaned back, growing motionless. well, one thing was definitely in motion.

"shut the fuck up." you rubbed the tent in his pants as it eventually grew — still no consent of his, but his expression and activities history doesn't seem to be convincing you that he'll say no. you grabbed his face, making him look at you after his eyes had set down onto your hand on his dick. "tell me, taehyun. do you think from your dick or something?"

"y-you can't ask a question like— that.. h-hah." he groaned, a pretend exasperated tone when he was clearly enjoying this. he looked... desperate. it was scaring and making you want to fuck him at the same time. "please, noona."

"please what? use your words, bitch." you said, finger twirling the zipper of jeans, or more like a synonym for a cock cage.

"what're you gonna do?" he asked, eyes shooting around the hall as his knees buckled up, trying to squirm your hand away. this felt so emasculating to him — that you just basically palmed his dick from above the denim.

you were everything he wasn't — smart, perfect and untainted. but you were everything he wanted.

"maybe suck your dick," you said and the statement was definitely sent as an electric signal to his dick and his brain. "give you a reason to go around saying absolute bullshit, hm?" and he closed his eyes shut. his head fell back on the back rest as you unzipped his jeans, letting out a sadistic chuckle. "aw, is the delusion wearing off?" placing a hand under his chin and tilting his head to your side. oh lord, he was blushing. his ears were heating up and his cheeks went pink. "n-not bullshit.. not—"

"shut up." you attempted at a slap but only smacked his jaw, making his head turn away. lightly squeezed to his dick through the Calvin Klein and he whimpered. rubbing the tip with your nails.

if someone asked you if your panties were dry you'd have to deny it. his condition only got more tortured and jittery, you were chuckling like watching a stand-up comedy. you got up from the seat, kneeling in front of him. "h-hah, noona. shit— pl-please."

a malevolent expression, you took his dick out, cockhead lathered in precum — manwhore !

"you like this?" you asked, placing your hand in front of his mouth. "spit, whore." and he did, so fast like he was already preparing to, preparing to be sucked and jerked off.

"mmm, noona, i— h-hah." taehyun scrunched his knees together when your hand twisted at the tip, going down on his dick and his eyes shot open. "i l-love- this."

"of course you do, slut." you mumbled, licking the underpart of his tip, looking up at him as his hands reached to the back of your head to push you down on it unprovoked. he has the audacity to try to fuck your mouth. but no, you slapped his hand away. "behind your back."

he arched his back in sole pleasure, hands behind him now, he let out short, rapid pants. you opened your mouth wide, making him assume you'll finally take his dick, only to start pumping his dick rapidly.

"shit— shit, shit. noona no—"

"take it." you cut him off, using both hands, twisting. your lips set on the edge of his tip, rubbing against it. his brain was vacuous; and it got worse when you held the base of his dick and swallowed him whole.

"oh fuck, oh fuck fuck fuck." he whispered as you glide your hand up his hoodie, staying at his abs making him suck his stomach in. shook your head, the friction too much for him to bear. "noona, noona please."

pulling away, strings of saliva connecting you to his dick as his head flung back, closing his eyes shut when your nails slid up and down.

"keep it down, my god. the president might just hear you, would you want to be seen getting your cock sucked by me?"

his nails of each hand were digging into each other, his jaw clenching. "it— it'll make for a good s-sight."

"'m so close, pleasepleaseplease." he groaned as you completely stopped even the slightest of fuckery he was receiving from his imaginative slut. "no!"

you giggled at the sight — brain-dead taehyun, with his hands behind his back that were desperate to come forward and get him to cum, his embarrassing, dumbfounded state. a slap to his dick and he thrust into the air.

he could fuck any object that moves right now.

"you just love having your cock shoved down throats, don't you?"

hollowing your cheeks around him, the pleasure too much for him to bear. his hands escaped from behind and almost reached for your head but stopped mid-way, balling into a fist as his brain began jarring.

"noona please please please I'm gonna—" and before he could even warn you, prevent your annoyance and the malice you might have, he spilled into your mouth. and to his surprise, you kept his tip in your mouth, tasting him.

"noona?"

a pretend swallow that made his brain cloudy, did you just swallow his cum?

you got up, his eyes tracking up as you leaned down and pulled him by the collar of his hoodie, clashing your lips onto his and his mind skipped a function or two. you seeped his cum into his mouth, wiping your hands on his chest and he did not give the reaction you expected, the reaction you wanted him to give you — instead, to your surprise, he kissed back, his hand slipping up to catch yours. he didn't expect this at all but the whore didn't give a fuck. you pulled away, displeased that he wasn't mad you just made him eat his own cum.

"you ain't my boyfriend." you hissed, picking your backpack up.

and he was all gone to hell, no place for him in heaven, staring at the high ceiling, panting, beatific.

are they dating? no. do they both have mutual thoughts of fucking? absolutely.

I wrote this in like one hour forgive me

[howhow326]

Monster Discourse Simulator

🧜🏿‍♀️ Wata.Mami69 reblogged Sashasabonsam

🦇 Sck.My.Bldng.ns Follow

Ok guys the year is 2024 can we please stop pretending that Fairies are part of the Monster community? They don't face oppression like other monster groups, but they do want the benefits of being in our community and we should stop letting them.

🧚🏿 MmoatiaRepBlog Follow

Oh joy, another Vorpalblade Vampire in 2024...

🦇 Sck.My.Bldng.ns Follow

Yes, I'm a Vorpalblade Vampire and y'all will not intimidate me into silence!!!

The monster community is for the undead, the cursed, and other former humans. If you do not fit into any of those catergoies (i.e., Fairies) then you do not belong.

If you want talk about whatever problems Fairies have then fine, but do not drag my community into it.

I. Will. Not. Let. You.

🐺 LittleHowlingMonster Follow

For the record, Fairies are accepted into the monster community and OP's opinion is very unpopular.

I am very sorry op snapped at you MmRB.

🦇 Sck.My.Bldng.ns Follow

I will literally shoot you with a silver bullet if you don't stop being a bootlicking mutt (affectionate)

🐺 LittleHowlingMonster Follow

WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK???

🧚🏿 MmoatiaRepBlog Follow

Werewolves are catching strays from OP showing the whole world his exclusionism / racism (don't act like I didn't catch you using AAVE to sound scary)

🦇 Sck.My.Bldng.ns Follow

1.) I have Fairies DNI in my bio, and I will be blocking any Fairy that interacts with me

2.) @ LittleHowlingMonster, I'm sorry I hurt your feelings, but you weren't showing solidarity with me when that baby stealer blog attacked me, so I called you a slur. I won't apologise for doing that until you do better.

3.) I don't even know how Human racism was dragged into this conversation, but I think it's clear to everyone that the fairy blog is grasping ay staws to discredit me and any African vamp or monster blog would agree with me.

I. Will. Not. Back. Down.

This thread proves that we should have never allowed fairies into the monster community.

🩸 Sashasabonsam Follow

OP: is not black american, southern american, or have any cultural ties to the word y'all at all (he's European).

Also OP: uses the word y'all to make themselves sound scary, asserts that any other vamp would back him up (I don't), and doesn't even follow any non European vampire blog.

Now if I said I didn't agree with you...

🦇 Sck.My.Bldng.ns Follow

Wow, you bootlickers are really coming out of the woodwork today 😏

🩸 Sashasabonsam Follow

Smug face emojis aren't going to save you boo

🦇 Sck.My.Bldng.ns Follow

Shut the fuck up you dumb bitch!!!

Im one of the top people on this Heavensite working for Vamp rights and all I ask for are allies. If you won't be an ally then leave! And take every "muh culture" blog with you!!

🩸 Sashasabonsam Follow

Adding misogyny to the list now 🙄

🧜🏿‍♀️ Wata.Mami69 Follow

There's no way you guys spent all that time arguing with a scat kink blog.

(7,777 notes)

[bloogers-boogers]

Abel: stop it! stop it! STOP IT!

*everyone goes silent*

Abel: I'm not Lucifer's son! Can you all already shut the fuck up about it! Can't you guys just accept I'm biologically Adam and Eve’s child?! There's nothing wrong with that! Move on.

Charlie: I'm so sorry Abel..

Angel Dust: I'm not. There's no way you're their kid, you look nothin' like ya pah.

Cain: he has the shape of him.

Abel: HEY!

Cain: but maybe that's because he's fat.

Abel: you're just jealous of the possibility I'm right. Which I am. Cause no matter how many times I tell you I'm our parents kid, you don't believe it!

Cain: cause you're not. I saw it with my own two eyes. Dad got fucked by Lucifer and then suddenly you poofed into existence. So you're not mom's. So no, you're not Adam and Eve’s brat. I am.

Abel: here again with the same bullshit theory that dad birth me and that 'somehow' it was him who had an affair with the devil!

Lucifer: *cough cough* yeah.. theory *cough*..

Cherry bomb: everyone hear me out. It was Eve who fucked Lucifer and Adam birth Abel who was conceive from the affair.

Everyone: ....

Everyone: *starts arguing again*

Adam: *entering the room and heard Abel screaming again that he was son of Adam and Eve*

Adam: you're wrong.

Cain: aHA!!! wait. What? So i was fucking right?! I fucking knew it!! I wasn't having a bad nightmare as a kid! It was a nightmare! A real one. Where you and the devil fucked behind some bushes.

Adam: what? *cough* What're you talking about. No. He's not Eve’s or Lucifer’s. He's Lilith.

Everyone: WHAT?!!

Adam: I thought everyone already knew that? *side eyes Lucifer* what? Why are you acting all surprised? Didn't she tell you?

Lucifer: *still in shock*

Adam: there's literally a whole myth about it. Lilith got envious of Eve being set as her replacement and forced sex with me. Though, they kinda went far off with that one. It was mostly Lilith seducing me with fruits and a nice song and I admit, I was dumb to let that cunt seduce me, but, she was hot. And that song was a banger so we fucked and it was awesome.

Vaggie: but those were all myths! How did you think we'd know, they're millions of stories about you guys!

Abel: ... so.. all this time it was you who cheated on mom?

Adam: oh fuck no! That cheating bitch cheated on me first! I just went ahead and cheated with my original wife. It wasn't even cheating, we were separated at the time. Even if divorced wasn't a thing back then, me and your mom split up after the whole apple thing before we reconcile and banged again.

Cain: *having a really bad headache now* so you're telling me you fell in love with Lilith again at some point in that story??

Adam: *sigh* I didn't fall in love with Lilith. I was confused. So was she. We were never in love. It was more of a sense purpose kinda thing? Lilith’s purpose was being challenged after being told Eve took it away. So she figured if she took me away, fuck, have a kid with me, which was basically what we were originally meant to do. It would finally sastified her. Which it did cause we immediately separated after banging and she got pregnant. She "seduced me" by wooing me, stroking my ego and with promises like I would no longer have the need to want to find a sense of purpose, like her. But unlike her, my purpose was never fulfilled because I was meant to have children with my wife and build humanity. It was never stated for me to do it specifically with Lilith. It was "you, Adam, are meant to name all the animals of this planet, build humanity alongside your wife, who would partner and care for you and your children into death due apart" or some shit like that. While Lilith unintentionally found a loophole with hers, she, was meant to birth a child from Adam. Specifically. She did and moved on. Well, kinda? Cause she still has that itch to check on me sometimes, bitch about my shit and then turn it around to asking how's Abel.

In short. Lucifer stole Lilith from me. They ran off, she came back years after, took me while I was currently separated from your mother, we fucked, she left after birthing Abel, I assume back to Lucifer? And I went back with Eve. I discovered she had birth Cain and Azura while I was away. Eve and I raised Abel.

Cain: I need a drink..

Lucifer: so that's where Lilith went off after we had that argument...

Abel: someone kill me... again.

Cherry bomb: this is one fucked up family

[hellisharchive]

Adam with a bimbo s/o? I know it's not much to go off of but I'm a huge fangirl of your writing and I think you could do so well with this prompt! Have fun!!!

﹒﹒﹒dumb bitch

➤ Everyone knows you weren't the sharpest tool in the shed, you were pretty but dumb, you were always kind to everyone though. You somehow got the attention of the first man who didn't care how kind you were- he just wanted a good fuck

➤ 18+, sexual remarks, implied sex

➤ Adam x Bimbo!reader

➤ Hi yes this took literally 2 months I'm sorry I suck at requests in a managable time 😭😭😭

Adam first saw you and he immediately knew he wanted to fuck. I mean, you were HOT. So of course he hit his shot, he was the first man, Adam! Who wouldn't want the original dick?.

So, he shamelessly went up to you and flirted, causing you to blush and become flustered. You didn't know what he looked like under that mask but his voice was hot. He said he wanted to bring you to his room, what for? You weren't sure. But he he was cute, so you agreed.

He noticed that you weren't the smartest and you asked if you were going to watch movies or something, totally not understanding that he wanted to get freaky, and he sighed internally. He got a dumb bitch, didn't he? At least it'll make it easier for him to fuck you silly.

You laughed at his every joke even if they didn't hit as you walked towards his place, it was in the center of Heaven! How'd he manage that? That was only where the highest non human angels lived! You asked him and he sighed interally again before answering. "I'm the first mortal soul here Babe, I got the best of the best".

You both finally made it to his place and you just stared in awe at how pretty it was before oh! He started kissing you! That was unexpected, but you couldn't help but kiss back. Was this why he wanted to take you back? Not to watch movies? Things started to escalate and he dragged you into his bedroom where he shut the door.

Two weeks later, you two fucked regularly, Adam only saw you as a fuck buddy, but you considered it to be a relationship without even him knowing. So you always told people he was your boyfriend and when he finally found out, oh he was PISSED.

You were shocked when he said you two weren't dating, but how? You were together! You were fucking! You liked him! You started to cry because it hurt and he quickly shushed you, trying to calm you down but you kept sobbing.

He thought of something that normally he wouldn't agree to, but he- for some reason- felt terrible for making you cry. He told you that you can officially start dating and you squealed in delight and hugged him. Right after he felt like he was making a huge mistake, but couldn't help it when he felt his heart skip a beat when you hugged him. Oh no, was he forming feelings for you too?

Three months later and the relationship actually was pretty nice, Lute gave him hard shit at first but eventually ended up being fond over you- protective even. He doesn't do "romance" so he had to always get advice on what to do, but he was actually pretty happy with you. It shocked him, but you were such a pure soul he was almost thankful he agreed.

You were as happy as can be and on your first official date, you finally got to watch movies with him. Now every few dates, he always watches the newest movies that come out just to make you happy, he loves to see you smile.

[fuck-customers]

I wish there was some way to tell all customers that when they see another customer yelling at/talking down to/calling names/being very disrespectful to a retail employee, YOU, as the customer have the power to tell the other customer to shut the fuck up and act right and you should help your fellow human beings out and stand up for the employee, because we all know an employee that stands up for themselves gets fired.

And don't fucking stand there silently watching the whole conflict and then AFTER the rude customer leaves, go up to the employee like "haha wow, that woman was a bitch, huh?" YEAH AND Y O U HAD THE FUCKING POWER TO SHUT HER UP AND YOU JUST STOOD THERE AND WATCHED!

I had a woman insist that she had an online order ready for pickup, but she refused to show me her order confirmation or the order number or give me any information to check up on it other than her first name, which does not help at all, since orders are listed by last name. She's calling me stupid and yelling that I'm somehow stealing from her and all this random shit. After like 15 minutes, I finally get it settled when she pulls up her confirmation and the dumb bitch selected another location for pickup. Of course she leaves without even muttering an apology or acknowledging what a bitch she was.

Then the next customer in line comes to the register after watching all that and is like "wow, she was a bitch, huh? Sorry you had to go through that. That sucks." WELL I FUCKING WOULDN'T HAVE IF YOU WOULD'VE SAID SOMETHING INSTEAD OF SILENTLY WATCHING THE WHOLE DAMN THING!

While I understand where you are coming from with wanting someone to intervene that won't get fired for doing so there are a lot of anxious people in the world that can't really stand up for themselves much less stand up to anyone else.

When the next customer or another one in line mentions a bad interaction I just had I tell them just one time I wish I could be a customer when someone freaks out like that so I can tell them to STFU, but alas it never works out that way.

-Rodney

[bitemevanitas]

Vanitas No Carte

incorrect quotes

1) Vanitas: Dante has no survival skills, his need to win has replaced them.

Johann: That cant be true!

Vanitas: Watch this.

Vanitas: Hey Dante, race you to the bottom of the stairs!

Dante: *Throws himself out a window*

•

2) Johann: I have issues.

Dante: Finally, you admit it! The fırst step to redemption is accept

Johann: With you.

•

3) Johann: Are you guys bringing anything to the party?

Jeanne: Yeah, an empty stomach!

Vanitas: My sparkling personality.

Dante: A flagrant disregard for common decency?

Noé: ...

Noé: Chips.

•

4) Vanitas: Yeah, I'm a false prophet, but you believed me, so whose fault is it really that we're in this mess?

•

5) Noé: You use emojis like a straight person.

Johann: That's literally the worst thing anyone has ever said about me.

•

6) Dominique: Who else is hiding in the laundry room trying to listen to Vanitas and Jeanne's convo?

Johann: Me. I'm in the laundry basket.

Dante: I'm in the washing machine.

Noé: Im in the closet.

Johann: We accept you Noé. <3

Noé: No I'm literally in the closet.

Johann: Love is love. <3

Noé: ...

•

7) Vanitas: I never understood why people cared so much about their dumb friends until | got a dumb friend myself.

Vanitas: *Turns to look at Noé*

Vanitas: I've only befriended Noé for a day and a half, but if anything happened to him | would kill everyone in this room and then myself.

•

8) Dominique: Is this gaslighting? Am | being gaslit?

Veronica: Domi, if | were gaslighting you, you'd never know it.

Dominique: Is THAT gaslighting?

Veronica: Shut up.

•

9) Vanitas: You're giving me a sticker?

Luna: Not just a sticker. That is a sticker of a kitty saying "me-wow!"

Vanitas: I'm not a stupid kid.

Luna: Fine, I’ll take it back..

Vanitas: No, I earned this, back off!

•

10) Noé: So, I've organized your messages into three categories..

Noé: "From Vanitas".

Noé: "Death Threats".

Noé: and "Death Threats From Vanitas".

•

11) Vanitas: What are you in the mood for?

Jeanne: World domination.

Vanitas: That's a bit ambitious.

Jeanne: You are my world.

Vanitas: Oh.

Jeanne:

Vanitas:

Jeanne:

Vanitas: OH.

•

12) Dominique: My future partner must be brave, strong, intelligent, successful and organized.

Noé: *steps on a caterpillar and proceeds to drop to his knees and sob while apologizing profusely*

Dominique: That one. | want that one.

•

13) Vanitas: Here are two pictures. One of them is your bedroom, and the other is a garbage dumpster. Can you tell which is which?

Noé:

Noé: This one is the dumpster.

Vanitas: They’re both your bedroom.

•

14) Vanitas: Jeanne is playing hard to get.

Vanitas: Little does she know, I'm a master at playing hard to get rid of.

•

15) Noé: Hey.

Vanitas: Hey?

Noé: I cant sleep. :/

Vanitas: I can. Goodnight :D

•

16) Dominique: Crushes are the worst... Whenever I'm near mine, | start acting stupid.

Noé: But you always act stupid.

Noé:

Noé: Wait a minute...

•

17) Vanitas: You got a date yet Jeanne?

Jeanne: No...

Vanitas: Well you do now! Get your ass up and hold my hand!

•

18) Johann: Ugh, there's always that one weak bitch in the group who isn't down with murder.

Johann: *side-eyes Noé*

Noé: Well, sorry I have morals!

•

19) Noé: You use humor to deflect your trauma.

Dominique: Awww, thanks!

Noé: That's not a good thing...

Dominique: All I'm hearing is that you think I'm funny.

•

20) Jeanne: I still have no idea how I'm attracted to you...

Vanitas: Yeah, well, you're stuck with me, and no take backs, darling.

•

21) Vanitas: There is no future. There is no past. Dont you see? Time is simultaneous, an intricately structured jewel that humans insist on viewing one edge at a time, when the whole design is visible in every fact.

Noé: ...All I asked was if you wanted to cut your birthday cake fırst.

Vanitas: ....

•

22) Vanitas: I want to kiss you.

Jeanne, not paying attention: What?

Vanitas: I said if you die, I wont miss you.

•

23) Vanitas: You disgust me.

Dante: *eats a kitkat sideways*

Vanitas:

Dante:

Vanitas:

Dante: I realize this and don't care.

•

24) Luna: You know, there's something weird going on with your face?

Vanitas: What?

Luna, super happy: You're smiling! I didn't know you could do that?

•

•

•

25) Vanitas: Here’s a fun Christmas idea. We hang mistletoe, but instead of kissing, you have to FIGHT whoever else is under it.

Noé: Vanitas no.

Jeanne: Mistlefoe.

Noé: Please stop encouraging him.

•

26) Vanitas: I was arrested for being too cool.

Jeanne: The charges were dropped due to a lack of supporting evidence.

•

27) Vanitas: *Gets down on one knee*

Jeanne: Oh my god, it’s finally happening.

Vanitas: *Falls over*

Jeanne: The poison is kicking in.

•

28) Vanitas: Am I going too far?

Dante: No, no, no. You went too far about seven hours ago. Now you're going to prison.

[lucycore]

Chucky x reader [Maybe I was wrong...]

I'm going freestyle for that one..Probably no smut and no trigger warnings.

Also I'm writing for the human form of Chucky so Charles lee ray and cuz I love vintage it will be around December 1988.

(Fem!reader)

—

You were one of Tiffs sisters. The edgy middle child rocker. U were in a crappie band that didn't have enough money to do shit. Annoyed with your life u also were annoyed by Tiff and her fucking personality.

You thought of her as a dumb teenager. What adult ass woman truly believes that a fucked up psycho is going to love her? Psychos have no feelings for anyone, they're just using you for their sake and dumb bitches like your sister fall for it.

God her stupidity made you mad.

After rehearsal with your shitty ass band that took 1000 tries to remember one riff, you had to go for a cigarette.

"God annoying fuckssss!" You thought.

It was already 11pm. It was already super dark and a little windy which you LOVED.

You only had black leather pants and a Black sabbath tank top on but your synthetic leather jacket kept you warm.

You walked over to your favorite place to chill which was on the roof of the rehearsal building. From up there you had the perfect view over the city.

You lit your cigarette and let the wind blow through your hair while your eyes were closed. You really needed that silence after the loud rehearsal.

"Fuck what is it this time? Can't the world just shut up for a second?!" You thought in your mind and opened your eyes to some loud noises from under you.

You saw charles and his companion making some mayhem. You rolled your eyes and continued smoking your cigarette.

After a while you heard some noises on the building. As if someone is trying to climb up on the roof.

You didn't bother to check what it was so you just let fate do it's thing. Your layed your head back and shook your head a little.

"It's bad time for little girls like you." You heard charles say and rolled your now open eyes.

"Fuck off." You said and threw your cigarette away.

He sat next to you.

"Rehearsal didn't do according to plan?"

"Since when do you care about it?" You replied annoyed.

He smiled a little.

"Just asked. No need to get pissed at me."

You turned your head away. You didn't like him. He was a psycho and sick and just cared for himself. You couldn't understand what your sis saw in him but that's her nature. You stroke with your hand over your arm.

"So why did you decide to come up here?"

"I saw you here alone, how could I miss such an opportunity."

You turned your head to him in disbelief.

"Just kidding, don't get fucking mad woman."

You smirked annoyed. "He is a maniac.." You thought.

"So?" He wrapped his arm around your shoulder and came closer looking at you.

He continued speaking: "The night is so romantic, yet so dangerous...Isn't it right y/n?"

"What do you mean ?" You looked into his eyes.

He had something charming in him but you just didn't want to admit it. You didn't want to be like your sister. The thought disgusted you but for some reason Charles was growing on you.

"Simply that little ladies need to be more careful or need someone to protect them."

You rolled your eyes. "Thanks but I can protect myself." You stood up and were about to leave but Charles stopped you, holding your waist.

You looked up into his eyes almost in disbelief cuz why tf is he touching you?

"Excuse u?" You said almost pissed.

"I see big potential to kill in you. You're rebellious which I like." He smirked

It didn't surprise or disturb you to hear your potential and being sick in the head yourself you kinda liked it. You took it as an compliment and blushed while smiling and leading your eyes down.

"So? Next monday at night? Slashing date?"

"And what about my sister?"

"Fuck her! You're better anyway." Charles said and left.

—

The night in front of the toy store were charles was killed, was the night u guys had that "date" later u used the voodoo spell to turn him into a doll.

[sexualtensiongrowing21]

Prompt//Get locked in somewhere together.

Liam Dunbar X OFC Lahey

TW: None?

Word count: 1469

Clara and Liam never got along. Since the first time that they met at school, they have despised each other. Clara thought Liam to be arrogant and hot headed while Liam thought Clara to be stuck up and a know-it-all.

They have been arguing back and forth for the past ten minutes and the rest of the pack is sick of it. Liam just brought Theo back insisting that he can help with The Wild Hunt, while Clara thinks that they should send him back to the Skin Walkers. While some of the pack agree with Clara, she is being harsher than needed.

“Are you really that dumb?! I mean, is there honestly nothing in that head of yours!?” Clara shouts while waving her hands around.

Liam's face is getting redder by the second. Everyone knows he wouldn't hurt her… again… But they can tell he's getting angrier and angrier by the second. “Well tell me what your great idea is, huh?” He steps closer to her “Just stand around while people get taken?!”

Clara doesn't back down and gets in his face “Of course not! But we should at least try and come up with something better. I mean, how could you be such a dumbass Dunbar?!”

Liam opens his mouth to respond but before he is able to get anything out Scotts steps in between them. “Okay. Okay. You guys are done.” Scott looks to Clara and points upstairs “You, go sit in my room. Take a minute to calm down.”

Clara sends one last glare at the werewolf and stomps up the stairs and slams the door. Taking a minute to cool off as her heart hammers in her chest, she decides to head to Scott's bathroom and splash some water on her face. Letting the cool water calm her down, her breathing and her heartbeat slows.

The door opens and Liam is pushed through, while the door slams shut behind him. He immediately turns around and starts shaking the door knob.

“This isn't funny Scott! Let me out!” he yells banging on the door. Clara leans against the bathroom counter and crosses her arms over her chest.

Scotts voice is muffled through the door “No. You two need to figure out how to get along. Me and the rest of the pack are sick of listening to you two bitch at each other all the time. Figure it out.” With that, Liam heard Scotts footsteps growing quieter and there was no longer a heartbeat to be heard.

Silence overtakes the room. The only noise to be heard is the sound of the bathroom fan that seems to be broken. After ten minutes Liam stops banging on the door and sits on the ground with his back leaning against the bathtub.

“This is all your fault, you know.” Clara states but doesn't look at the young werewolf in front of her.

Liam scoffed while picking at the lint off of his leans. “You're the one being a bitch. I don't even know why you're part of the pack.”

Claras nostrils flare. She was part of the pack because of her brother Isaac. When he was bit, he begged Derek to take his sister with them. She didn't want the bite, but Isaac couldn't leave her alone. They only had each other, so from then on she has been part of the pack. Helping in any way a human could.

It was Clara's turn to scoff. “You're right. I'm just a human, but how many times has this human saved your ass? Too many to count.” Liam rolls his eyes but doesn't say anything. It's true. Clara has saved him on multiple occasions. Clara was just a human, but her fighting skills amaze him. She can definitely hold her own during a fight. He just can't stand how she constantly has to be better than him, and how low she clearly thinks of him.

They have been sitting on the bathroom floor for an hour without speaking a word. Clara starts thinking about how when Liam is quiet he is actually pretty cute. She has always noticed how attractive he was. He is amazing at lacrosse. Watching him play is truly entertaining. They have gym together and sometimes he will do that thing where guys lift their shirt up to wipe the sweat off of their face, exposing their stomach. She cant lie and say she has caught herself staring a time or two, but then he opens his mouth and ruins it. He always has to be so cocky.

Liam knows that she is looking at him. He can always feel when her eyes are on him. She tries to hide it, but with being a werewolf he can sense it. Claras looks always make him nervous, though he will never admit it. She is beautiful and smart as hell. How could anyone not be nervous around her? When they were first introduced by their friend Mason, Liam couldn't stop staring. He was mesmerized. All he wanted to do was talk to her, but she didn't seem interested so instead he did what he always does. Act cocky. Needless to say, she wasn't a fan. From then on the two couldn't stand each other.

His butt getting sore from the hard ground, Liam stands up to stretch. His shirt rose some in the process.

Catching Clara's eyes he smirks. “Like what you see Lahey?” She presses her lips into a thin line. “Until you opened your mouth.” She spits and stands up while glaring at him. She wouldn't admit it, but sitting on the ground while he was standing above her was a little intimidating.

“You know what your problem is? You think you’re so much better than everyone.” Claras mouth gapes open. “I do not.” She whines while crossing her arms across her chest. This causes her breasts to press together and Liam struggles not to let his eyes wander, as she will definitely notice.

“You do. You always have to know everything and you're always correcting people.” He's towering over her now and she's backed up against the counter again. “Did it ever occur to you that I try so hard to know everything because I'm not supernatural like the rest of you and want to help!?” She exclaims, face hard as he takes in her words. No.. That never occurred to him before. He just thought she wanted to be smarter than everyone else.

As if calculating her words his head tips side to side slightly. Then a thought pops into his head. “Well, how come you hate me then? Since we met you decide you hate me.“ Deciding to tell the truth she looks up at him “Because. I hate cocky assholes. And you Liam are a cocky asshole. ” She yells at him, throwing her hands in the air.

“So you hate me?” He asks with the slightest hint of sadness, lacing his cocky tone. “Yes.” Her heart rate picked up and he heard it.

“You're lying, Lahey.” Liam responds with a smirk. The same smirk that she hates that she loves. “In fact, I think that you like me.” He presses closer to her, his nose centimeters from hers.

“I do not.” Clara breaths out.

“You're forgetting one little detail. I can tell when you're lying.” He looks from her eyes to her mouth and back.

Lips barely touching hers he hesitates for a moment. Giving her the choice to push him away. But she doesn't. Instead she throws her arms around his neck and pulls him as close as he can be, crashes her lips to his. He's quick to drop his hands around the back of her thighs and lift her up on the counter stepping in between her legs. She lets a squeal of surprise out when she's lifted.

Their kiss is heated. Hungry. Her fingers scrape his scalp pulling on the longer hairs on the back of his neck, as his hand wanders along her thighs and back up to her waist. Every inch of them is connected.

As soon as his hips come into contact with hers she lets out a little moan. But before they can go any further the bathroom door swings open. They pull away in surprise to see Scott standing at the door with a cocky smirk.

Clara is straightening her shirt and patting down her hair and Liam combs through his. Both of them flush from the heat of their activities.

“You two figure out your differences?” Scott asks with a knowing smirk playing on his lips. Both teens nod their heads. Too embarrassed to speak.

“Good.” Scott nods his head and walks away from the door frame. “Malia! You owe me $30!” He shouts leaving the two stunned teenagers behind.

*If you’re interested in being on my taglist, please let me know!*

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Masterlist

[wayward-river]

Ice packs and Space Heaters

AN: Hey guys! I'm still kind of new to the TGM fandom and am still working on my story that was posted awhile back called "Dancing on Broken Glass" ... however I just need to get back into writing and I had this in my drafts, just a very very short drabble.

All mistakes are my own, I do not own any characters used. No description given for reader.

Pairing: Really this is a Rooster x reader but can be taken romantically, platonically, whatever. Hope y'all enjoy!

You were laying on your couch binge watching the newest season of New Girl, your favorite candy bar wrappers littered the floor around you as you held the ice pack across your stomach and the heating pack was placed on your back. It was three in the morning, but you weren’t getting back to sleep anytime soon. Mother nature was a bitch and she had won this round. A knock on your door made you groan moving the blanket off of you, you slowly made your way to the door. 

Now thinking that it was the early hours of the morning, and anyone could be at your door right now, you decided to slow down. “I’m just letting you know I have a weapon…” You slowly pulled the door open inch by inch revealing Bradley with a slight smirk on his face. 

“So where is this weapon?” 

“You scared me! What are you doing here? Why are you awake right now? It’s like three.” You rattled off walking back towards the couch as he followed you in. 

He looked around at the fluffy blanket, the wrappers, the heat and icing packs, his brows furrowed in confusion trying to piece everything together. 

“I could ask you the same thing Y/N/N.” 

You rolled your eyes. “There's a difference when you are at home at three in the morning.” 

“Well I was worried nobody's seen you in days, we miss you Fanboy won’t shut up about some dumb movie that he swears you would love so can you come back so we can stop listening to him.” 

You giggled as you sat on the couch leaving room for Bradley as he sat down next to you. 

“So this is just a wellness check?” You questioned slightly. 

“Yup” He nodded, popping the P. 

“Okay well thanks for the check in, I promise I’m alive and will be back to normal tomorrow.” 

“Good, anything else I can do?” 

“Well unless you have the cure for cramps then probably not.” you paused “actually you are like a human space heater, can I, do you think, would it be weird?” You tried to get the words out, your fear of rejection causing you to stutter out your thoughts. 

“Spit it out L/N” Bradley smirked. 

“Can we lay together, like can I lay on you or cuddle if it's not weird.” you finally got out. 

Bradley laughed as he leaned back pulling you into him as you brought the blanket up to cover you both as you resumed the episode. Sighing in content as you were finally feeling a little better being in his arms. 

After about fifteen minutes Bradley could hear the soft snores coming from you. He smiled as he continued to gently card his fingers through your hair, something he was pretty sure was what put you to sleep. Not wanting to move you he got more comfortable as he drifted off while Jessica Day rambled on about something on your TV.

[dr-spectre]

Hello everyone, I need to get something out there, to scream in the void as they say. I wanna vent so if you wish to skip over, it's all good. I dont know if this healthy for me to do or if this will cause issues but, fuck it.

One of the worst feelings in the world is feeling like you're a child, someone who acts so excited yet so dumb at the same time. You spend your time, energy, effort, whatever, at something that brings you happiness or excitement. And it's out of your control. You wish it would stop, but your brain has other plans.

And all it takes is one single knock at that built-up tower for it to crumble down, one comment or sentence from anyone and you're left feeling like a child and to never speak with another human being ever again.

There are so many days where I wish that I could just stay numb and feel nothing because, to be honest with y'all, sometimes I genuinely despise the way I act online, and i feel so damn embarrassed. The way I use a lot of capital words, act so mean towards people who don't know any better and just base their information off of tangible sources, feeling like a complete asshat about a fictional fucking girly character. I can't control it, but I wish I could.

I really wanna isolate myself. God I want to. I want my brain to shut up. I always tell myself, "just shut up. Just never speak again. Don't talk about anything to others. It hurts you."

I am so fucking sensitive over little shit its so annoying i hate it. I overthink beyond comprehension its actually fucking insane. Call me Callie Cuttlefish the way I "sometimes I think too much! (>_<;)"

I.... I'm tired, in all honesty. What I preach is nothing more than a headcanon, a false narrative, nothing in actual canon, I feel like I'm wrong, I shouldn't get mad at those who say other words to describe things. I'm some spoiled brat who can't accept what is there because I'm too attached to some bitch. They are right. Im a wrong autistic loser. I'm tired of hyper focusing on word choices, I'm tired of my chest hurting, I'm tired of it all. I feel so numb. I'm a fucking child.

This is way too genuine, holy shit. I may take this down later I will think about it. Its like midnight over here....

[eldritch-spouse]

Pinnie would like you to know that I have recently become obsessed with your writing and oc’s like I have read more these past couple of days on tumblr than I did for the entirety of my high school years. As an elder gen z I have some pretty weird thing I say that I personally find hilarious but I don’t think that your characters would like.

One such thing is that instead of calling it sex I like to say Devils Tango in the most obnoxious voice ever and I’m wondering how the icons would react in terms of like finding it funny like me or forbidding me from ever using it again

["Elder gen z". Fuck you mean elder gen z- I'm older gen Z. We're elders now? 🥲 I'm glad you're having fun though :7. I've always done a lot of reading, writing not so much.]

Most of them already find the way the legend of "the Devil" is perpetuated in spite of there being physical proof that Hell and its Rings are currently occupied by seven different demonlords to be kind of ridiculous.

Vesper finds it funny that mortals continue to associate sensuality and desire with Hell specifically. It gives him a sense of pride, he feels that he actively contributes to this view, to the allure of Lust as a Ring- Even if people continue to have that ever boring misconception about Hell's power structures. You can call it whatever you want, he's rolling with it.

Kalymir, as you know, is a fan of raunchy terminology. He's a lot more likely to just say he wants to gape your holes- No filter no shame. It's just built into him, to express sex almost always through a violent lens. An euphemism that simple is bound to have him groaning in irritation and calling you a little bitch.

Zizz is only going to roll his eyes. It's so typically human of you to use an expression like that. At the same time that he has to admit it's a novelty, he's also vaguely in pain from the remark.

Rinx laughs every time you say it, because it's simply so dumb a term to him. It endears you to him, truly. It also totally shatters a more serious atmosphere if that's what was happening until you opened your mouth to say those words.

Vorticia cannot mask the way her eyelids twitch or the way her smile tenses in a hard cringe. You're kind of killing her mood. Please use anything else. She won't mention it.

Cero quickly shuts you down by claiming that the "Devil" doesn't exist. You're being dumb when you say those things- Just tell him you want him.

Livius will not hesitate to pick up on this terminology. Oh you want to do the mattress mambo? In the mood for horizontal hula? Some hanky-panky? Getting busy in the boudoir?? Do you want to make whoopee with him? Please stop this menace.

[maxwellhauskaffee]

Viv's mad that someone made a Hitler joke from the "I'm sorry" meme from Hazbin Hotel, but she literally made an Epstein / Hitler joke in HoaB and one with Jeffrey Dahmer in the HH pilot?

I thought the show was supposed to be edgy and cutting like Family Guy and South Park? Why you upset that people are making the kinds of jokes you'd see in both of those shows? Why are Verosika rape jokes ok? What's going on? Lmao.

And the thing is - I liked those jokes in both shows! It's hell! They are horrible people in hell! If this stuck to the comedy format or like a dark satire of some kind - these kinds of jokes are ok.

But the show both wants to be South Park religious funny but Ali Astor and Mike Flanagan level of deep and serious concerning religious and spiritual motifs.

Maybe Viv's upset because some dumb teen's joke brings up a serious flaw in the show if not correctly handled...

How does Charlie decide who's worth redeeming if she does? Would she be willing to forgive, say - Now... I'm serious... I'm being deadass serious...

Would she be willing to redeem Valentino.

"But that's not can -" shut up. This is a critical thinking scenario applied to Charlie's canonical goal to help any sinner who wants it...

If Valentino strolled up into that bitch and was like, "I was a bad boy; I'm sorry," would Charlie help him? Would it be good to help him even if Angel Dust is there? Would she chastise Angel Dust if he's upset at Valentino being there?

If we're talking on the scale of sin here – that is, if we're to weigh all sins as we do in the Western human court of law... he's not Hitler, Epstein, or Dahmer. Like sure, he's a pimp like Epstein and a rapist who likes mind control like Dahmer. But Angel's an adult, and Valentino didn't drill a hole through his head and pour acid in it and then eat his flesh...

SO... should Charlie help Valentino by principle if he's truly sorry, and should he be able to go to heaven if he redeems himself?