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igbylicious · 11 months ago

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knockout [woosan x reader]

pairing: woosan x f reader

rating: 18+

genre: smut, boxer au, friends with benefits

summary: Wooyoung invites you over to play after San wins his latest match.

wc: 3.9k

warnings: boxer San, manager Wooyoung, threesome, consensual somnophilia (San is the one asleep), blow job, hand job, spit kink, face-sitting, cunnilingus, face-fucking, choking on cock, cumplay (eating and sharing), dirty talk, San has bruises, they use the pet names ‘baby’ and ‘good girl’ for you but no pronouns, reader wears a dress, established Woosan, San is whiny while he sleeps but gets cocky when awake, Wooyoung is a mischievous lil’ shit (affectionate) the whole way through

a/n: my first ateez fic! please consider a like/reblog if you like it (❁´◡`❁)

-☆✧☆✧☆✧☆✧☆✧☆✧☆✧☆✧☆✧☆✧☆✧☆✧☆✧☆✧☆✧☆✧☆✧☆✧-

Your phone buzzes late at night, and you already know who it is before looking. You tear yourself away from the TV and check your messages, where you find a selfie from Wooyoung.

His hair is getting longer, pushed back with sunglasses resting on top of his head. (Even though it’s already dark out. Poser.) He wears a black-and-white shirt with a busy pattern and just one button too many undone, a heavy silver necklace around his neck. But all of that is just a sideshow to the main point of the selfie; Wooyoung is winking cheekily at the camera, holding up a big wad of cash. San won the match.

does this mean takeout is on you guys next time? you text him. After a brief pause you add, also congratulations i guess

(But the dismissive tone is just for show, riling each other up a natural part of your relationship with Wooyoung. You’re smiling as you press send, knowing how much a win means to him and San, how hard they work for it.)

Your phone buzzes again. you should come over

for takeout?

idk about takeout but there’s definitely a meal in it for you 😏😜😘🍆💦

You can’t decide whether to grin or roll your eyes at the message and its string of emojis at the end, but you do send Wooyoung an affirmative text back. Your face decides on a grin as you put your phone down, a spark of excitement coursing through you. Guess you’re going out tonight after all.

This thing between you and San and Wooyoung has been going on long enough that usually you don’t even bother dressing up for them anymore, but hey, it’s a special occasion, right? So you slip on some lacy panties and wiggle into a cute dress, and do a quick check in the mirror to make sure you’re looking at least halfway decent. (Not too much fuss. Wooyoung did text you in the middle of the night.)

Just before you go, your phone buzzes one last time; Wooyoung warns you to send a text once you get to the apartment, not ring the door. At first you do not give it too much thought; they do live in a crappy old place, might just be that the doorbell is broken.

But then the added photo loads, and you see San is conked out on the couch, sitting with spread legs and his head lolled back, mouth slightly hanging open. Apparently he hasn’t even changed clothes since the match, wearing a dirty white tank top and a smattering of bruises across his tanned skin. His dark hair is a mess, pretty lips set in a natural pout while he sleeps.

Immediately, a fresh buzz of excitement surges through you. There is a whole new layer of thrill to this invitation now.

After driving over, you send Wooyoung a text that you’ve arrived. He opens the door for you with a bright grin, and puts a quick finger to his lips to indicate you have to be quiet. His sunglasses have disappeared somewhere between making a selfie and your arrival, saving him a roasting from you. He gives your dress an appreciative once-over, and casually kisses your cheek as he lets you in, resting his hand on the small of your back. His good mood is incredibly obvious, fingers brushing against the top of your ass.

You slip off your shoes and step further into the apartment. The place is a bit messy as always, furnished with a combo of thrift-shop finds, stuff they won off bets, and random things donated by friends. (Even their old van is a hand-me-down, though you have no idea where they got it from.)

The result is a home that’s chaotic, but friendly. Shelves piled with keepsakes, stories attached to everything they own. And for all the messiness, at least they do keep it somewhat clean.

There is a desk in the corner, with a few neat piles of paper money on top. Clearly Wooyoung was in the middle of counting — and accounting, his books laying open with a pen next to them. Despite all his antics, Wooyoung is actually pretty responsible with money. He knows that he needs to be, never sure when they’ll get their next win. (You suspect they run a few less-than-legal stints on the side, but neither seems too keen on making that their main gig.)

And then there is San, sitting on their old couch. Still fast asleep.

“Look how tired,” Wooyoung murmurs, his lips brushing against your ear. “He worked so hard today, I thought we should reward him. How about it, hm? Don’t you think he deserves a prize for taking home the victory?”

You lick your lips, a sharp craving growing in the pit of your stomach at the sight of San’s soft, sleeping face. As far as you are concerned, you are the one getting a prize here. It’s been a long time since you last had the chance to indulge in this particular kink; it can be tricky to coordinate when you don’t actually live in the same house.

And San makes such pretty noises when he’s asleep.

Wooyoung grins at the expression on your face. “Good girl,” he whispers indulgently, pressing one last kiss on your cheek before he playfully slaps your ass, pushing you towards the couch.

You glare back at him, even if the slap sent a crackle of pleasure through you. Just out of principle, to let Wooyoung know he can’t get away with everything. (He can absolutely get away with everything.)

But then you shift your focus to San, getting on your knees in front of him as quietly as possible. He usually is a deep sleeper but still, you are not about to risk waking him too early. You do take a moment to just look at him; to take in the way his broad chest moves with slow, even breaths.

The hard, battered muscles of his body are completely relaxed now, arms laying uselessly on the couch. There are marks on his knuckles, and it’s odd to think he was using those same fists to beat someone up, all for a cash prize, just a mere few hours ago. He looks so soft now. Not for the first time, you marvel at how handsome he is, the sharp cut of his jawline, pronounced cheekbones and pouty lips. So damn gorgeous, even with bruises marring his face, a particularly nasty one on the corner of his mouth. You want to kiss it, but you tuck that thought away for later.

San’s legs are already conveniently spread for you to shuffle close; could be a happy coincidence, could be that San was expecting this. Expecting you.

(This was a conversation you had long ago, where he’d given you a free pass to ‘wake’ him if an opportunity presented itself. It is entirely possible that he and Wooyoung discussed this before contacting you, and something about the idea of San falling asleep while thinking of your mouth on his dick makes you squirm in the best way.)

You press a hand against the front of his sweats, feeling the outline of his cock. You squeeze it with a light touch, give the impressive length a gentle stroke, and delight at the little “Hmm” that San sighs out.

Encouraged by the sound, you pull down the waistband of San’s sweats just enough so you can take his cock out, heavy in your hand. Still soft, though he gives a beautiful twitch when your thumb runs across a vein across the underside.

Your eyes glance up when Wooyoung sits down, just as carefully as you had been. He is slouched next to San with an arm slung across the back of the couch, fingers ghosting against San’s hair but never touching, while he raises his other hand to bite at his thumb. Uncharacteristically quiet, watching with rapt attention.

Heat pools between your thighs, you love being on display for him, teasing a sleeping San. You’re keenly aware of how your dress has ridden up, your ass sticking out, your neckline low enough for an ample view of your cleavage — though you’re sure it’s your hand that has Wooyoung’s full attention right now, wrapped around his lover’s slowly hardening dick.

You gather saliva in your mouth, then let it dribble down on your fingers and San’s cock. He moans, shifting slightly, lips parting a little wider as you take advantage of the easier slide of your palm. The sound goes right to your core; San’s moans are just a bit shallower when he is asleep, a bit more high-pitched. More needy.

More noises start to slip from his lips as you slowly stroke the length of his thick cock, thumb playing against his slit. Sometimes his hips shift to follow your movement, but he does not wake, his conscious mind unaware of your fist working him to full hardness.

San is getting beautifully flushed, a redness blooming across his cheeks and neck as he lets out a faint whimper, brow furrowed. It is always a fun game, to see how far you can take him before he wakes up — before you are treated to that toe-curling moment of aroused disorientation on San’s face, that split-second where he can’t quite figure out why he is so fucking horny until he sees you, nested between his thighs, and a sleepy yet cocky grin breaks out on his face.

But it’s not come so far yet; San is still under the hold of his tired slumber. His breath hitches as your fist twists around the head of his cock, almost like a little hiccup, precum mingling with your spit. You know you can’t hold off your impatience for much longer.

Wooyoung is still staring, though his eyes wander between San’s cock and the wiggle of your ass, his cheeky tongue dipping out to wet his lips. His gaze is heated, intense, and the slight asymmetry of his eyelids makes his stare only more attractive and striking, dotted by the little mole under his eye. He worries his bottom lip with his teeth as he watches, but grins when he catches you watching him in turn. He leans forward, elbow on his knees, and beckons for you to offer your hand.

You do so, and watch how Wooyoung decadently works his mouth and lets a thick globule of spit fall past his lips, onto your waiting palm. His grin widens when you moan weakly as his saliva mingles with yours, with San’s precum, and generously gives you more until your hand is messy and slick. Finally satisfied, Wooyoung leans back with a flirty wink.

You make good use of Wooyoung’s ‘contribution’, pumping San just a little faster now. His noises start to pick up, face contorted with unaware pleasure as a small trail of drool escapes the corner of his mouth. It won’t be long now before he wakes. Honestly, you are surprised it has lasted this long at all; San’s fight must have been particularly strenuous tonight.

Just when you contemplate whether it’s time to get your tongue involved, Wooyoung suddenly gets up from the couch.

You try not to get distracted by him moving around behind you, keeping your focus on San, but then you feel a little tap against your ass. You turn your head to see him lying on his back, head between your feet with a shit-eating grin on his face.

Lift your ass up, he mouths and gestures simultaneously.

You do exactly that, allowing Wooyoung to slide under you with his hands on your waist, his face right underneath the flimsy scrap of lace that covers your dripping core, barely worth the name ‘underwear’. “Seriously?” you whisper, though even just the sight of him, raised eyebrow and ready to eat you out, has more arousal leaking into your panties.

“Hey, San isn’t the only one who worked hard for this match,” Wooyoung whispers quietly, wetting his lips. “Don’t I deserve a reward, too?”

Well… If Wooyoung’s idea of a reward is to have you ride his face, then who are you to deny him? You really keep getting the better deal out of their hard-earned victory. Still, you roll your eyes at him, just to let him know how ridiculous you think he’s being, though the increasingly damp spot on your underwear tells Wooyoung all he needs to know.

He lets out a pleased, dark chuckle as you lower yourself down, his hands gripping tighter onto your waist as he positions you for the best angle. He does not even bother to pull the scrap of lace aside, happily eating you out through it.

San whines when your fingers squeeze around him, liquid oozing from the tip, his hips stuttering lightly before he settles back down. His cock is flushed dark, pulsing in your hand, but it is hard to focus on him right now. A lazy hand continues to stroke him while you struggle to focus on anything but Wooyoung’s muffled moans against your sopping heat.

You bite your lip to keep silent, hips moving on their own accord as Wooyoung’s nose presses against your clit, his mouth undeterred by the obstruction of lace as he makes a sloppy mess of your cunt, eagerly lapping away.

Wooyoung is rarely this quiet, but today he foregoes his usual dirty talk and running commentary to direct his full attention on reducing you to a mindless mess. He is a fiend with his mouth either way, thick swipes of his tongue and grazing teeth, mouth suckling at you through the now-ruined lace.

It takes all your self-control to stay on task, to not get distracted by the sound of a zipper, and soon after the wet noise of Wooyoung jerking himself off, still moaning against your leaking cunt. You shake yourself out of it, wrapping your lips around just the head of San’s cock, licking at the steady stream of precum while you use both hands to work his length. He twitches in your mouth, and for a moment you wonder if he’s going to cum without even waking up at all.

But then Wooyoung uses his nose to nudge your panties aside and sucks directly at your clit, and you moan loudly around San’s cock at the sudden stimuli.

San starts awake at the vibration, his hips reflexively jerking forward. You happily meet his thrust to gag on him, making San hiss a throttled curse. “F-fuck, what’s-ahhh—”

His hand flies to your hair, instinctively holding you in place. Your eyes tear up as he hits the back of your throat and stays there, but you can still glance upward to look at him — and he’s a fucking sight to behold. Bleary-eyed and disoriented, his mouth slack and panting hard for breath as he tries to get his bearings. Eyes landing on you, his cock twitching as understanding dawns. The moment is every bit as beautiful as you had imagined.

“Look who it is, Sannie,” Wooyoung grins when he notices San is awake, taking a break from tongue-fucking you. “Came over just to congratulate you. Ain’t that sweet?”

“Fuck,” San chokes out, his voice gravelly from sleep. He hisses sharply when you hollow your cheeks and give a light suck, drawing a low groan. Slowly, the sleep retreats from his eyes and is replaced by a dark alertness, though his face is still flushed, his body tired.

Lazily, he lets you continue doing what you do, only stroking your hair in encouragement as he releases you, letting you return to shallower bobs of your head. “Fuck, baby, just like that,” he groans, biting his lip. Once again, your attention is drawn to the bruise on the corner of his mouth, aching to be kissed — but your own mouth is preoccupied. Later, you promise yourself. There will be time for that later.

As expected, San’s moans are a little deeper now he is awake, slowly rocking his hips as he watches you take him further with every pass of your mouth. You wonder if he’s even aware of the difference in his sounds, or if that’s just a little secret for you and Wooyoung to know.

Speaking of Wooyoung — now that he doesn’t have to keep quiet for San, he gets talkative again. “Use me, baby,” he groans, his fingers digging into your ass. “Come on, ride me a little harder. Don’t be shy. Smear that wet pussy all over my face.”

You don’t need to be told twice, enthusiastically granting Wooyoung’s request. He moans happily as you fuck yourself on his tongue, any further words muffled between your thighs. You’d worry about whether Wooyoung can even breathe, except he has a death-grip on your hips and refuses to let you slow down. His nose repeatedly bumps into your clit, sending sparks through you every time, your moans reverberating around San.

San grunts at the feeling, voice husky and low. But as attractive as the sound is… some part of you wants to hear his whimper again. Just to see if you can make him do it.

Well. There are a few sure-fire ways you know to push San to the very limit and beyond — and one of them is immediately available to you.

He was already pushing deep inside your mouth, but you do your best to relax your throat and surge forward, your nose brushing his pelvis as you choke yourself on his cock, then pull back to do it again. And again. A lewd, wet gurgle filling the room every time, your throat constricting as you strain around his thick shaft, tears burning in your eyes.

San groans at your renewed efforts, a greed shining in his sharp eyes when he realises what you’re doing, what you are asking him to do. His fingers scrape your scalp as they embed tighter around the strands of hair. Recognising the unspoken invitation to fuck your mouth as hard as he wants.

“That’s it,” he growls, “you know how I like it. Choke on my cock, hm? I’ll stuff you until you can’t breathe.”

You can barely breathe already; it’s hard to pull in air through your nose like this, with San steadily rocking his hips forward. You go slack in his hold, just letting him use you to his liking, trying to curl your tongue around the underside of his cock in the way you know drives him up the wall.

Wooyoung makes a noise when you slump down on his face, and you try to catch yourself but he won’t have it, only sucking more eagerly onto your clit as he grabs onto your thighs to keep you in place. You moan loudly, and San curses in response, his breath getting pitchy.

It’s working, you realise. It’s not as much as when he is asleep, but slowly a whiny lilt creeps into San’s voice as he uses your throat, his face contorted with pained pleasure.

Your head starts to spin, the barrage of sensations threatening to overwhelm you. Slick sounds and deep moans, a heady scent of arousal permeating the air. San’s cock obstructing your breath, his little whines; Wooyoung’s tongue nimbly flicking against your clit, his hands squeezing at the soft meat of your thighs. You’re tilting, slowly but surely, right over the edge when Wooyoung sucks harshly, exactly when San whimpers.

It hits you like a freight train, the violent force of it enough to have you sobbing around San’s cock. You tremble and shake as electricity surges through you, only held up by San and Wooyoung’s hold on you.

Your garbled cries take San over the edge with you, though he still has enough restraint to pull back slightly, no longer nudging against your gag reflex. He shudders with a tight hiss, clumsy fingers catching in your hair as he spills hot seed inside your mouth.

You almost choke again; it’s messy, and there is a lot, leaving you to wonder if San has been abstaining before the match. Lately you certainly haven’t done more with them than casual texts or hangouts, but can make no assumptions about what he and Wooyoung get up to when you’re not around.

You try your best not to swallow it down — and not spill a single drop, either. At the latter, you don’t succeed entirely, a thin wet trail dribbling down your lips when San pulls out and slumps back onto the couch with a final, loud groan. But when Wooyoung gets out from underneath to sit next to you, and pushes a thumb on your bottom lip to show him, you can proudly stick out your tongue to him, sticky whiteness on display.

“Good girl,” Wooyoung purrs, fondly cupping your cheek. “Don’t even need me to tell you anymore, huh? So well-behaved for us.”

You moan contently at the praise, and again when Wooyoung eagerly puts his lips on you, sloppily lapping up San’s cum from your chin, your lips, until his tongue invades your mouth for a proper meal. You can taste yourself on him while Wooyoung tastes San, who is watching it all with a small, cocky grin, teeth flashing at you.

Wooyoung lets out a needy moan as he drinks deep, his tongue sliding against yours in a heady dance. He grabs for your hand, guiding you down to his still-hard cock, hot and weeping precum. Your fingers are still messy and slick, making it easy for you to jerk him off while he continues to hungrily kiss you, licking up every last drop he can reach.

It’s less of a challenge to make Wooyoung whimper, but the sound is no less exciting for it, his high-pitched moans like music to your ears. He cums messily in your hand, some spilling onto your dress. With a final bite to your bottom lip, he pulls away from your mouth, eyes heavy-lidded and looking thoroughly fucked out, lips swollen and shiny from the essences of both you and San. You grin at him, lifting your hand to suck his cum off your fingers.

Only then do you turn to San, who is indulging himself with slow strokes on his cock while he still watches you and Wooyoung intently.

“Congratulations on the match,” you say casually, cum-stained fingers lingering on your lips.

San’s grin returns to his face and he grabs your hand to pull you into his lap…where you finally get to kiss that bruise on the corner of his mouth. He winces as you press up to him, and you can hear Wooyoung grouse next to you.

“Be careful with him, alright? That’s my meal ticket you got there,” he complains, dusting himself off as he gets back on his feet.

But San wraps his arms around you, keeping you captive. “You don’t have to be that careful,” he murmurs against your mouth, his hands firmly planted on your ass as he grinds you against his crotch. The night is not over quite yet.

-☆✧☆✧☆✧☆✧☆✧☆✧☆✧☆✧☆✧☆✧☆✧☆✧☆✧☆✧☆✧☆✧☆✧☆✧-

An indeterminate time and a thorough shower later, you are sitting snugly between San and Wooyoung on their shabby old couch. They graciously borrowed you some clothes, leaving you cosily wrapped in a pair of San’s sweats and one of Wooyoung’s oversized hoodies. In your hands you have freshly delivered takeout, enjoying a hot meal together with the guys.

Their treat, of course.

#igby’s writing #ateez smut #ateez x reader #ateez fanfic #ateez imagines #ateez fic #woosan x reader #san smut #san x reader #wooyoung smut #wooyoung x reader #ateez hard hours #kpop smut #ateez scenarios #san imagines #wooyoung imagines #san scenarios #wooyoung scenarios

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sansaorgana · 4 months ago

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— BEDROOM HYMNS

PAIRING — Ser Gwayne Hightower x fem!Reader // Queen Alicent Hightower x fem!Reader

SUMMARY — Your sister-in-law wishes for you to become one of her ladies-in-waiting but you become so much more. Things complicate when your husband comes to visit.

AUTHOR’S NOTE — The title is from Florence + The Machine song. Alicent is a lesbian in this fic but she's also very conflicted about it. Reader is 100% bisexual. I wanted to write this fic for some time now because I have a crush on Alicent ever since Season One so yeah... Here we go... 😩😈

WARNINGS — cheating, homosexuality seen as something *wrong* (by Alicent), mentions of sexual activities (no actual smut – tiiiiny bit in the beginning)

WORD COUNT — 6,240

ENGLISH IS MY SECOND LANGUAGE.

BEDROOM HYMNS

You moved away from between her trembling legs after a cry of pleasure muffled by her own hand that she had covered her mouth with. Alicent’s juices were dripping down your chin when you smirked at her and looked up to meet her big brown eyes. Those soft big brown eyes that you adored more than anything. You had always adored them. So full of sadness and softness and you had never wanted anything but to make her feel better.

“Have I pleased you?” You asked while peppering her soft inner thighs with your kisses although you knew the answer already. Her husband had no idea how to please her.

The Queen only nodded and looked away. Poor Alicent – she always felt bad and guilty after the peak had already been reached. The sudden realisation of her sin was soul-crushing but the tension and desire had been too great to ignore them. She deserved the relief and you did not see anything bad about it.

“How many times do we have to do this?” You sighed and lied next to her in her bed. Your fingertips caressed her sides and your lips attached themselves to the crook of her neck, smelling all the scented oils in her hair. She was The Queen of the Realm and she was pampered like no other Lady. “There is no shame in this.”

“There is a sin,” Alicent turned her head around to finally meet your gaze. She raised her hand to nervously play with the seven-pointed star pendant on her sweaty chest.

“Why?” You bit on your lip and caressed her auburn locks out of her face.

“It is betrayal,” she frowned as if she was getting frustrated with your lack of understanding.

“It would have been if you lied with a man,” you explained and kissed her cheek before laying on your back and staring at the ceiling.

“I should find your vague idea of morality perplexing,” Alicent pointed out and you couldn’t help but chuckle at her confession.

“But you do not and thank Gods for that,” you rolled your eyes with a smirk.

A silence occurred as Alicent kept playing nervously with the pendant between her fingers and you were staring at the ceiling and counting all the cracks.

“What kind of husband is my brother?” She asked suddenly and you turned your head around to look at her again.

“A good one,” you admitted, feeling nearly guilty for that because you knew why she was asking – her husband was not good. Not to her and not to her children.

“Why are you doing this then?” Alicent asked.

It was obvious why her brother was on her mind now. He would arrive at King's Landing any day now. You couldn’t wait to see Gwayne again after a few months of being apart and you only wished he had taken your son with him but he could not. Robyn was the eldest son and he was supposed to stay in Oldtown. He had just become a squire and leaving his knight for a few long weeks would not be advised, therefore you had to go on missing your boy. Day after day as if he was a burning hole in your chest. Mothers would always miss their sons, you assumed.

“To kill the time,” you shrugged your arms, not wanting to reveal how much Alicent meant to you and for how long. “And to help you. You are my friend and I love you,” you confessed.

Alicent always loved Princess Rhaenyra more. Your father was a Master of Coin in King Viserys’ Small Council and you were growing up together – three girls running around happily. Or rather – two girls following the Princess like two overjoyed puppies. Rhaenyra was the centre of everything for you and not only because she was the Princess but also because she meant everything to Alicent. No matter how much effort you were putting into making Alicent like you more, you were destined to fail for she always was choosing Rhaenyra over you.

It made you grow bitter towards The Princess but never towards Alicent. You were blaming yourself – you had to become more and try harder perhaps and maybe then you’d earn more than just leftover crumbs of her love and friendship.

You couldn’t understand your feelings back then – why was the attraction so strong, what was making you feel so attached to the young Hightower Lady. You were the same age and yet everything she said was like a command to you. Wherever she went, you followed. Even when you felt like a burden because she so clearly would rather be left alone with Rhaenyra. But Rhaenyra never minded your presence because to her you were only a pawn on the board, an ornament, an addition of no importance. So, you often witnessed the two girls laughing together, whispering, exchanging small gestures of affection. You were only watching. Observing as your heart ached.

During The Heir's Tournament you met Ser Gwayne Hightower, Alicent’s older brother. He was young then, eager to show off his abilities and make his family proud. Perhaps he did not have his sister’s big brown eyes but he had the auburn hair you loved so much about her and he had her softness about him. You were enamoured with him in no time and when he approached the royal box to greet his sister – he caught your eye and you caught his and for that moment when your eyes met, you felt butterflies all over your body.

Ser Gwayne Hightower received your favour on that day and the sparkles of joy in your eyes while you were throwing the wreath at him were very obvious to your father and to his as well. You could not know that then but they exchanged meaningful looks for a short moment.

Even though Gwayne lost the duel with Prince Daemon Targaryen, he did not lose your affection. In fact, witnessing him nearly winning and losing only because Prince Daemon chose to play dirty – it only solidified your feelings. Ser Gwayne was a righteous man, a chivalrous knight and a brave one, too. It took lots of courage to face Prince Daemon Targaryen himself.

Gwayne was carried away with his face covered in blood and dirt while his mind was filled with thoughts of you – of losing your favour and your interest. However, you hurried to his side right after the tournament ended to make sure he was fine. And at the sight of you – he truly was fine again.

You were only ten and five but you knew already that Ser Gwayne was the only man you could see yourself being married off to. Thankfully, your father saw that, too. Two years later you were sent to Oldtown and for the whole time in between you were exchanging letters. When Alicent was married off to King Viserys shortly after his wife’s death, you still felt bitter but not as much as you could because you mostly felt excited about your own upcoming wedding.

However, the sadness and anxiety on Alicent’s face on her wedding day were a sight you would never forget.

Years and years of the happy marriage had passed and you were still in touch with your sister-in-law because of the letters you were exchanging and her son that you and Gwayne were raising in Oldtown – Prince Daeron Targaryen. But other than that, you had your own life now to live, your own duties, your own offspring and Alicent was simply not occupying your mind as much as in your adolescent years.

You were aware of King Viserys’ health getting worse and worse as Alicent was ruling the Kingdom in his name. The burden of responsibility was heavy and her marriage was getting more and more difficult. You couldn’t say the same of your own union – you loved Gwayne and he loved you. Just like every married couple you had your misunderstandings and disagreements but you were grateful for him every day of your life and you knew well that he felt the same towards you.

It was after breakfast on one of those days that seemed to be pretty typical in the morning and then they turned out to be life-changing for a person. Without a warning and without an ominous feeling deep in one’s gut, they just happened and changed lives.

A letter came to you from Queen Alicent and you expected nothing of great importance in it so you put it below the pile of letters you had to respond to this morning. You sat by your desk and dipped the feather in the black ink as you started to perform one of your duties as Lady Hightower, helping your husband to run Oldtown in his father’s name.

Letter after letter, until finally you were left with the last one. You opened it with a small yawn, which turned into a frown after reading Alicent’s plea and request.

“What is it?” Gwayne entered your chambers this very moment but his smile dropped at the sight of your face.

You folded the letter suddenly as if it was a secret or something dirty but it only increased your husband’s curiosity as he approached the table and raised an eyebrow at you.

“What is it?” He repeated the question and you pinched the bridge of your nose, trying to find the right words.

“It is from your sister,” you replied and looked up to meet his confused gaze. He knew about your friendship and for you to react this way at one of Alicent’s letters was simply unusual.

“Is he dead?” Was all Gwayne asked.

“No, Gods, no,” you shook your head and took a deep breath in. “Not yet,” you added.

“What is it then?” Gwayne lifted your chin up gently to make sure your eyes would still be on his. You swallowed a lump in your throat and finally decided to tell him what his sister had requested.

“Queen Alicent wishes for me to become one of her ladies-in-waiting,” you revealed and Gwayne’s confusion only grew. “She feels lonely in King’s Landing, she needs a friend by her side. Somebody she can trust.”

“It is out of the question,” Gwayne took the folded paper from your hands and read the letter himself, still standing above you as you nervously fidgeted with your fingers.

Your own feelings were chaotic at that moment. Something in your heart wanted to run to King’s Landing at this very moment because Alicent needed you and because you wanted to make her life easier and make her happy. You had always wanted nothing but her happiness.

But you had your own duties in Oldtown and you had your husband here and your children. You could not just leave like that, could you? Especially when Oldtown was so far away from King’s Landing.

“It is out of the question,” Gwayne said again and threw the letter on your desk. “Reply to her that your Lord Husband does not agree.”

“She is your sister,” you looked up at him, pleadingly.

“Yes and I have nothing but love for her in my heart but her request is selfish,” he clenched his jaw as he looked you up and down, visibly surprised that you were not agreeing with him on this. “Why does she want to take you away from me? You are my wife.”

“Your wife – not your property,” you reminded him.

“That is debatable,” Gwayne huffed and looked away but before you could scold him, he continued with more. “Living in a different city, different castle, so far away from me… Will you still be my wife?” He turned his head around in an attempt to try to read your emotions.

“I will forever be your wife,” you stood up and took his hand into yours before placing it on your chest where your heart was. “But she needs me, Gwayne. She’s all alone there with no one by her side.”

“Father is with her,” Gwayne interrupted you. “He always favoured Alicent.”

“You do know that being favoured by him is a burden, not a prize,” you reminded. “Please, let me go. For some time at least. Until The King dies. It should not be for long and I’ll take the girls with me,” you tried to convince him as your fingers caressed his hand on your chest. “Please,” you whispered, looking up deep into his eyes.

After a long moment of silence and hesitation, your husband nodded his head reluctantly.

A few months later, you found yourself standing in the courtyard of The Red Keep, awaiting your husband’s arrival. He had a business to deal with in The Crownlands and he wanted to spend a few days with his family, too. You were caressing the creases on your dress with your hands and your teenage daughter Margaery was fixing her younger sister’s hairdo. Little Wyllow had been missing her father the most and she couldn’t wait for his arrival. In fact, she had made you and Margaery wait there since early morning and at this point you were exhausted already but you didn’t complain since you couldn’t wait to see Gwayne again either.

Even though it also felt a little weird and awkward since your mind was being flooded with memories of his sister’s body tangled with yours underneath her royal silk sheets. Her plump lips parted and soft moans escaping them, her beautiful big brown eyes hazy and filled with tears of shame and pleasure…

You were trying to shake those thoughts and images off of your head when you were interrupted by the sound of the horses approaching the gate.

“Father!” Wyllow nearly ran straight under the horse if she was not stopped by Margaery.

Your older daughter gave you a scolding look and she was right to do so because it was your duty to watch over your children, meanwhile you were distracted by the memories of dirty acts instead.

When you watched Gwayne jumping off of the horse, your heart clenched in your chest at the sight of him and you suddenly realised why Alicent was so filled with shame and guilt because now you felt them, too.

His handsome face, his eyes sparkling at the sight of you, his auburn hair reflecting in the sun… He truly was the man you loved. You just couldn’t help the fact you loved his sister, too.

“Father!” Wyllow finally was free to run into his arms and he crouched down to hug her and kiss her forehead.

“I am so happy to see you, little bird,” Gwayne cupped his daughter’s cheeks and she giggled.

He straightened himself but Wyllow clinged to his left hand so he used his right one to caress Margaery’s face lovingly.

“You’re growing fast, my love,” he pointed out.

“I am trying my best, Lord Father,” Margaery nodded her head with a smile and then she took a step back to get out of the way and let him greet you.

“Lord Husband,” you gave him a nervous and soft smile. Gwayne tilted his head a little and your heart skipped a beat. He was a very observant man but there was nothing that would give you away, right? What could it be?

“Lady Wife,” he smiled at you and took two steps ahead to be able to kiss the palm of your hand. Whatever he had noticed, he pretended it was nothing. At least for now.

“You must be exhausted,” you pointed out. “The chambers have been already prepared for you and I’m going to tell the maids to fix you a bath.”

“Does it mean we are not sharing the same chambers during my stay here?” Gwayne raised an eyebrow at you.

Margaery cleared her throat and she took Wyllow by her free hand.

“Shall we go inside now? Let our Lady Mother greet Lord Father properly,” she dragged her protesting sister behind her.

“She is becoming a fine Lady,” you chuckled awkwardly. “I can’t help feeling that the air and water in King’s Landing are making her grow up faster. Perhaps she is spending too much time with women older than her,” you explained, clasping your hands in front of yourself as if you had no idea what to do with them. “Come with me, I am sure you want to greet your father and sister, too.”

“I do,” Gwayne followed you inside while some of the men he had taken with him were taking care of his luggage with the help of The Red Keep’s servants. “You still haven’t answered my question about the chambers,” he pointed out when you were in the staircase together.

“My darling,” you turned around abruptly, making him stop his walk. “Your chambers are close to mine, please do not get cross with me. Those past few months I have learnt to love my solitude,” you explained and Gwayne tilted his head again but he only nodded.

“Let it be then,” he only said.

With each one of your husband’s kisses and each one of his touches, each one of your reached peaks and cries of pleasure, you felt more and more purified of sin as if his body was washing away Alicent’s smell off of you. After months of not laying together, you were lost in each other for hours with caring very little about getting any sleep. You were watching the sun rise behind the window when you were too exhausted to go on as you were laying on Gwayne’s chest, drawing circles there with your fingers and his hand was playing with your hair, gently massaging your scalp.

“Have you been faithful to me?” You asked casually and you could feel his muscles tensing under you.

You had no right to ask that – but he did not know of it.

“I have,” he answered. “Of course I have.”

“And if I say that the whores count, too?” You looked up playfully.

“I have been faithful to my Lady Wife,” Gwayne shook his head and you spotted a slight irritation on his face. He did not like it when his honour was being questioned – he was a knight, after all. “Why do you ask? Have you not been faithful to me?”

A shiver went down your spine at his chilling accusation.

“How can you ask me that?” You gasped.

“You have accused me first.”

“Because you are a man,” you reminded him.

“I am. And I know what men are like,” Gwayne nodded his head. “They must all be following you around – a beautiful Lady far away from her husband is like an invitation,” he finally cracked a smile, revealing that he was only jesting.

“I do not want any man but you,” you assured him as the tension left your body because you did not have to lie about it.

“That is good to know, my love,” Gwayne kissed the top of your head. “You had me worried with your cold greeting and not letting me into your chambers.”

“Are you not in my chambers now, Lord Husband?” You teased him and placed a kiss on his chest where his heart was. “And if my greeting was cold, then I owe you an apology. I spend too much time around your sister and her husband and I keep forgetting that some marriages are happy. That mine is…” You wanted to look up to meet his gaze but you couldn’t as something inside of you was stopping you.

“That is a shame,” Gwayne only said.

“It is, darling, but you are here now to remind me.”

You were sitting in the same chambers as Alicent, embroidering side by side and even though you were using no words, you found each other’s company comforting. Your arms were brushing as you both were focused on creating beautiful patterns on the same piece of fabric to make the work faster. It was supposed to be a beautiful green blanket with embroidered little dragons.

Princess Helaena was sitting nearby and embroidering spiders on her own piece of fabric. Her cousin, Lady Margaery Hightower was sitting next to her and teaching her younger sister the craft. It was peaceful, cosy and quiet – you loved those moments the most because it was nearly as if Alicent was your own Lady Wife and you were just enjoying the time spent together with your family, far away from all those loud and obnoxious men surrounding you everywhere. These chambers were your escape and your own queendom.

When the doors opened, everyone except for Helaena looked up with a slight irritation since the man entering this sanctuary was nothing but an intruder. Even if the man was Ser Gwayne Hightower, who was loved by every person inside the chambers.

He cleared his throat when you gave him a soft smile, your arm still brushing Alicent’s and you were sitting in a way that made sure you were facing each other. You had never thought about it before but it was quite intimate indeed. Your husband’s tilted head made you realise that he had just observed something and after a short while you understood what it was as you moved away slightly.

“Brother,” Alicent greeted him.

“Lord Husband,” you nodded at him.

“Forgive me for interrupting. I would like to take Margaery for a walk around the gardens,” he extended his hand towards his older daughter as Wyllow looked up at him with pleading eyes. “It must be Margaery alone this time but I promise you, little bird, I am going to take you for a walk later, too. Perhaps we’ll walk to the bay and watch the ships,” he assured her and she sighed with relief.

“You can finish without my help now, I believe,” Margaery handed the fabric to her younger sister. “Do try, at least. If you face any challenges, Lady Mother or Helaena shall help you.”

Helaena looked up when her name was mentioned and she gave Wyllow a soft smile that encouraged her little cousin to keep going. When Margaery stood up and left the sofa, Wyllow moved closer to Helaena and The Princess did not seem to mind.

“Can you help me with the ladybug?” She asked and Helaena’s face lit up at that.

“Lord Father,” Margaery took Gwayne by his arm and bowed her head at you and Alicent before walking out of the chambers with her father.

“I am wondering what is the matter my Lord Husband wishes to discuss with Margaery,” you hummed to yourself.

“She is ten and five now,” Queen Alicent pointed out. “What is the only possible matter that fathers wish to discuss with their daughters at that age?”

You furrowed your brows at her words because she was right and you did not like the sound of that. It was a shame that she was right, too, and not only for your own daughter but for every woman in this Realm.

You saw Gwayne again before dinner, on your way to the dining hall. He was walking down the stairs and you rushed to him to walk by his side. He offered you his arm and you took it.

“I have a question for you, Lord Husband,” you started, nearly aggressively and he raised his eyebrows at that fierceness.

“What is it, my love?”

“Are you planning to marry our sweet Margaery off so quickly? I do not wish for her to get wed too soon,” you told him, hoping he would understand your point of view because sadly, in the end, the decision was his to make for women had always been properties of men – once her father’s, then her husband’s.

Sometimes you wished you had become a septa.

“Not soon, no. But she is ten and five. That was the age you were in when we met,” Gwayne reminded you with a smile.

“Yes, indeed, my darling, but it was us both meeting and falling in love. That is different, you must admit,” you pursed your lips.

“I must, indeed. Do not worry, I am not willing to force anything upon our sweet daughter. I have only told her to start looking around for suitable matches… soon,” your husband explained. “I am sure King’s Landing is full of important young men.”

“I do not wish for her to get married here. This place is rotten and so are its people,” you sighed. “My greatest wish is for Margaery to marry a man from The Reach.”

“We all have wishes, my darling wife,” Gwayne’s answer was nearly mocking but he spotted your annoyance so he looked around to make sure you were not being seen before pulling you by your waist and pushing you against the wall to steal a kiss from your lips. “Gods, I missed this,” he whispered and you felt your cheeks heating up.

“Gwayne!” You scolded him playfully. “I missed this, too,” you added and caressed his cheek with your fingers.

But his smile dropped and eyes became serious all of the sudden. You stayed like that in a short moment of silence before he dropped the question that turned your guts inside out:

“What is the nature of your relationship with my sister?”

You were taken aback by his question and you moved your hand away from his face before taking a deep breath in, trying to steady your heartbeat.

“Alicent is my best friend,” you looked deep into his eyes, surprised by your own courage to lie like this…

But was it a lie? She was your friend, after all.

“There is intimacy between you two that I can only wish for between us these days,” Gwayne whispered and you bit on your lower lip.

“She is my main companion for weeks now,” you tried to explain.

“Are you still planning to come back home after The King dies?” Gwayne lowered his voice even more since talking about the monarch’s death could be seen as treason.

“Y-yes, of course,” you nodded nervously.

“Why the tremble of your voice?” Gwayne raised an eyebrow.

“What are you accusing me of?” You suddenly clenched your fists, trying to take another route of getting out of this awkward situation. “Your implications are indecent. You have been accusing me of obscenities ever since you arrived here. You wound me deeply, Lord Husband,” you straightened yourself.

“You have accused me first,” Gwayne reminded you.

“Without any reproach thrown at you. I have asked out of simple curiosity,” you informed him.

“You are right, do forgive me,” he reached for your hand to place a delicate kiss upon the palm of it. You sighed, feeling extremely guilty.

“You are forgiven,” you whispered, nearly inaudibly, because it felt wrong to be the one saying those words.

In fact, at that very moment, you promised yourself to fix everything. You promised yourself to invite Gwayne to your chambers again for the night and let his touch to purify you like on the previous night. And you would go to The Sept and you would pray the sin away, you would beg for forgiveness, you would be a better wife, perhaps you would beg Alicent to let you go back to Oldtown with your husband.

Yes, that was the plan.

In the early morning you couldn’t tell that you were well-rested. Your muscles were sore after the previous two nights and your head was hazy but you still got dressed up quickly when the sun was rising and creeping inside your chambers to shine upon Gwayne’s auburn hair. You leaned in to kiss his forehead and you left him sleeping to visit The Sept and be able to go back to The Red Keep before breakfast.

You had never been a devout but you were not a savage either. You believed in Gods and now more than ever you needed redemption.

You expected to be alone there at such an early hour but no – of course not. Queen Alicent was already there, kneeling by the stone table and lighting the candles. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath in. She was your greatest temptation and it was a cruel joke that the Gods had played on you to put her there at this time when you visited The Sept to pray her very own self away from your life.

Alicent looked up, surprised to see you. Her soft features were as sad as usual but at the sight of you she seemed to be a bit happier – relieved, in a way. Your heart clenched inside your chest. How could you ever want to leave her? You couldn’t. She was too dependent on you. Her happiness was and so was her sanity. Leaving her would be equal to killing her.

“I have not expected you in The Sept at such an early hour,” she commented as you kneeled next to her.

“I have not expected myself here either,” you smirked. “I came here to ask for forgiveness.”

“Forgiveness? Aren’t you always the one telling me that what we do is no sin?” Alicent furrowed her brows.

“I have lied to my husband. That is a sin,” you confessed and Alicent did not say anything to this. “I… I will have to go back to Oldtown, I think… I can’t… I can’t go on like this,” you looked down and Alicent remained silent but you didn’t have to look at her to know her big brown eyes were filled with tears. “I miss my son and I miss Oldtown… King’s Landing is corrupt and I do not wish for my daughters to grow up here. I… I miss Gwayne, too. I love him, I love him, I love him…”

“Are you trying to convince me or yourself?” Sudden, harsh question made you look up to meet her teary gaze.

“I’ve been loving him ever since I saw him during the tournament. You were there, sitting by my side,” you reminded her.

“You love him because he is my brother but your life has always revolved around me,” Alicent pointed out and you felt your cheeks heating up.

“You… You knew?” You only asked.

“I was blind to choose Rhaenyra because she was never for me to reach. She was The Princess and you were equal to me, so devoted. Blindly, very often. I took you for a fool and only after losing you, I realised. When you were sent to Oldtown, I suddenly understood that my only friend had left my side,” Alicent explained. “My only friend and the only person who has ever… Who has ever loved me – except for my mother.”

“Gwayne loves you, too,” you pointed out.

“Does he? He took you away from me,” Alicent’s jaw clenched and your eyes widened. She was not being rational but you knew why – she was scared of losing you again. In fact, she was determined to make you stay by her side.

“You will not let me leave, will you?” You whispered.

Alicent opened her mouth to say something but then her face softened and she stood up rapidly to walk away.

“I am sorry… I do not wish to… Act like this… I do not recognise myself,” she admitted with her voice full of shame. She raised her hands up to her mouth as she nervously bit on the soft skin around her fingernails.

You didn’t answer because you were too lost in your own thoughts. Was she right again? About you loving Gwayne only because he was her brother? You had never thought about it before. It would mean your whole marriage was a lie, an illusion – or rather a delusion.

“When I’m with him, I don’t imagine you,” you stood up as well when the realisation hit you. “But when I’m with you, he doesn’t exist to me. It’s as if there were two of me.”

“I do not understand,” Alicent shook her head. “To me, there is only you,” she confessed and laid her eyes on you.

You didn’t know what to answer. You swallowed a lump in your throat instead.

“I am flawed, poisoned…” Alicent continued. “I can only feel this way towards other women. I felt this way towards Rhaenyra until a certain moment and then… Then my whole life was about you. I have spent hours inside this Sept, trying to pray this away,” Alicent’s silent tears streamed down her cheeks.

“I do not have such a conflict. I can love both men and women,” you told her. “I can love you and I can love Gwayne…”

“I do not wish to share you!” Alicent interrupted you and then she hid her face in her hand as she sobbed.

“Women are not their own property. I am not the one to decide if I can be shared,” you answered diplomatically.

You felt sorry for her but you also felt sorry for Gwayne that he was being betrayed behind his back by his own wife and sister – two women he loved the most except for his daughters. He would die for you both, he would kill to protect you or to defend your honours – even though none of you had an honour anymore. He was the real victim here.

But one more look at Alicent’s sad eyes was enough to break you again. You approached her to cup her face and kiss her softly. She protested in the beginning since you were inside The Sept but you didn’t give a fuck about it anymore – you would go to Seven Hells anyway.

“I shall not leave you,” you promised her.

When you came back to your chambers, Gwayne was dressing up in front of the mirror. He raised an eyebrow at you entering the room.

“Where have you been?” He asked.

“In The Sept to pray,” you answered truthfully.

“Has my sister turned you into a devout like her already?” He chuckled.

“She has a great influence on me,” you nodded and walked up to him to kiss his cheek.

“You even smell like her,” he said and your heart skipped a beat.

“I am fond of her scented oils and she allows me to use them,” you answered.

“It feels weird when I’m fucking you, I have to admit,” Gwayne chuckled awkwardly and so did you.

“You shall fuck me more then,” you pointed out quietly.

“Even more, Lady Wife?” He shook his head with another chuckle.

“Until her scent is gone,” you explained and looked out of the window.

Gwayne did not say anything to this but his smile disappeared. From the corner of your eye you saw his reflection in the mirror and you realised that he had finally understood what was going on behind his back.

After a while, which felt like forever, he cleared his throat:

“It is a putrid place indeed.”

“You must take me far away from here,” you turned around to grab his arm and your heart broke when you felt him flinch a little. “You must save my soul and take me home,” you pleaded despite the promise you had given to Alicent earlier but that promise had not been given sober. You had been intoxicated with her.

“You must come back home yourself, my love,” Gwayne smiled sadly at you and caressed your hair gently, “for I do not wish to force anything upon you. You are always kind enough to remind me that you are not my property, aren't you? And I agree,” he nodded, “this decision is for you to make.”

And you didn’t know what to say or do because there was no decision that felt right and no decision that didn’t feel wrong either. Gwayne was your duty and your sacrifice and Alicent was a self-indulgent sin but you loved them both so much that you cursed the whole Hightower bloodline for existing because your life would be so much easier without them.

You knew what Gwayne was expecting of you – he expected you to choose your duty because – just like his sister – he was all about honour and decency. But you didn’t want your husband to feel as if you were choosing him only because of your marriage vows – you wanted him to know that you cared for him, too, even though he wouldn’t believe you now.

But there was only one choice for you anyway, wasn’t it? You couldn’t just stay with Alicent and pretend that it was the right thing to do. You couldn’t abandon your family and your duties for her and she had to understand it.

You looked deep into Gwayne’s eyes and your own filled with tears at the sight of all the pain and sadness in his. You dropped your hand down from his arm to intertwine your fingers with his.

“I do not think of myself as flawed or poisoned for feeling the way I feel,” you explained to him. “But I do not wish for my nature to spoil our union. If anybody can save me, it would be you,” you whispered. A plea. A desperate cry for help. “I am a mother, I am a wife, I am Lady Hightower and my home is in Oldtown.”

Your heart, however, would forever be divided; torn and bleeding. The deep, burning hole was forever to stay there for one reason or another.

MASTERLIST

#gwayne hightower x reader #alicent hightower x reader #lilysfiction

490 notes · View notes

normspellsman · 2 years ago

Text

Take Me With Her

“She Is Mine” Lo’ak Version

part one | part two

pairing: lo’ak x fem!human!reader

genre: angst, forbidden secret relationship, tiniest bit of fluff, no comfort at all, & violence

word count: 4.1k+ (don’t…just don’t)

warning(s): hissing, lo’ak calling reader babygirl (eeekkk), mentions of death + injury, death threats, lo’ak being possessive, kidnapping, cursing, suggestive tones, brief neck kissing, quaritch being a creep (ewww), reader thinking that she’s going to die, everyone being terrified, spider + lo’ak thinking about killing quaritch, & lo’ak crying

taglist: @aonungsmate @dearstell @thatonegirlwiththebeanie367 @optimisticblazetrash @goodiesinthecloset21 @liyahsocorro @universal-s1ut @minkyungseokie @amortencjja @chshshhshshshshshshshs

word bank: yawne — beloved, paskalin — honey (term of endearment), eywa / great mother — goddess deity that the na’vi believe in, sa’nok — mother, sempul — father, & prrnen — baby

note: spider, kiri, lo’ak, & reader are aged up to around the age of seventeen. it just makes more sense given the timeline i had in my head & with what i wrote. also going to be two parts hehe ��

Giggles erupted from your throat, your shoulder coming up instinctively to hide your neck from the ticklish attacks your boyfriend was doing to your delicate skin. You were almost confident that he even left some marks on the dips of your collarbones from his nipping.

Lo’ak whined in protest, attempting to burrow his face deeper into the crook of your neck.

“Yawne,” he whimpered, rubbing his cheek against your pulsepoint once he finally broke through your insistent hiding of your neck. “Can’t I show my love to my babygirl?” He whined, yet again.

You huffed in response, not sure if it was from annoyance or the proximity of your lovers face from your neck.

“No, Lo’ak. It is getting late and we must get back,” you replied, finally coaxing him out from your neck.

The Na’vi boy in front of you pouted, tightening his grip on your waist as he looked up at you from your position on his lap. Your thighs were on either side of Lo’ak’s waist causing you to kneel as he rested in between your legs.

“Just a few m’re minutes,” he pleaded, diving back into your neck as he gently ghosted his lips against the soft flesh and puckered his lips against it.

You gave out a small sigh, hands going up to the back of Lo’ak’s head and into his braids. “Sure,” you replied, making your boyfriend's tail perk up and wag back and forth from behind him, “Later. When we go home.”.

Lo’ak let out a frustrated groan, burying his face into your neck again and taking a deep inhale of your scent before reluctantly pulling away. A pout made its way to his face again.

“Fine,” he mumbled, standing up with you still in his tight hold.

“Lo’ak!” You squealed out, increasing your grip on his shoulders so as to not fall from his arms. He was such a pain in your ass sometimes.

The boy smirked at your response, bringing you a bit higher in order to be face to face with him, “Yes?”.

“Put me down you big oaf!” You demanded, slightly glaring at your smirking boyfriend, “And don’t drop me either! Gently put me down.”. You knew how Lo’ak worked during his teasing moments, it was always too obvious what he was thinking when the thought came across his mind. There were too many times where he playfully let you go and wasn’t quick enough to catch you, resulting in you harshly landing on your ass.

“Sure thing, princess,” he obeyed, gently placing you down onto the Pandora floor and kissing the crown of your head. “Better?” He asked.

Simply rolling your eyes at him, you shook your head and began to walk away, hoping to find Spider or Tuk to spread the message that you needed to start heading back home before eclipse began.

“Ugh. Baby, wait!” Lo’ak called out, quickly gathering his bow before swiftly following after you, tail swishing behind him as he did so.

———

Everything that could go wrong, went wrong.

First, Lo’ak stumbled upon strange footprints, tracking them to the forbidden shack, a place where Jake warned you guys repeatedly to never go. Then, Jake ordered all of you to fall back and head back to the stronghold. After that, it was going smoothly. Kiri and Lo’ak were bickering back and forth about how much trouble the boy was going to be in while Spider and you trailed behind Tuk, before she was snatched up by an RDA Avatar. Lo’ak had thrown himself in front of you, hiding your much shorter frame from the enemy soldiers' sights as he bared his fangs and drew back his bow. But that didn’t last long until an unwelcome figure came up behind you and roughly pulled you back by your hair, making you yelp out in response. Which led to where you were now, struggling in an Avatar’s tight grip as Quaritch began to eye all five of you.

“Show me your hands boy,” he demanded, striding up to Lo’ak as the boy was forced to kneel before the man.

Lo’ak only lifted up both of his middle fingers to Quaritch as his response, causing the man to reach behind the boy and harshly pull at his queue. Lo’ak hissed out in response to the pain, growling as his eyes shot daggers into Quaritch’s skull.

You shouted out in protest, beating your hands against the soldiers skin in attempts to force them to let go of you. But that only caused their grip on your hair to tighten, you whimpering out in response.

Your boyfriend's ears drew back at your expression of pain, letting out a little snarl as you went quiet.

Anxiety erupted within Lo’ak’s body as his eyes darted to both of his sisters to Spider and to you, lingering on you the most. Which proved to be something he shouldn’t have done as Quaritch caught onto the boys staring, slowly turning around and following his gaze.

Fuck, you thought when Quaritch made eye contact with you, gulping at his blank yet wild amber eyes. Holy shit, I’m going to die.

The thought was so abrupt in your mind, scaring you with how fast it formed. Everything about Quaritch and the situation you were put into terrified you. You always felt safe around other Na’vi, even Neytiri at times. But there was just something about the armed soldiers surrounding you that made you want to crawl within yourself and never come out. Every move they made, made you think it was going to be your final moments on Pandora. You just hoped that if it was, they had the decency to take you out of eyesight and do it then. You didn’t want the others, especially Lo’ak and Tuk, to see the potential violent scene.

The minute Quaritch switched his attention from Lo’ak to you, the teen boy snarled at the man, challenging him to do anything to you. There was no way that Lo’ak would even allow Quaritch to touch a singular hair on your head. Over my dead fucking body, he internally seethed.

A cackle escaped the Colonel's lips, tightening his grip on the boy's queue before turning back to the five-fingered boy. An unsettling smile etched itself onto the man’s lips as he slightly bent down to face Lo’ak, ears pinning back to the sides of his head.

“That your girl boy?” He asked, a smirk evident on his face. Lo’ak wanted to claw that smirk off his face. How dare he speak of you? Of his mate? Quaritch was pushing at Lo’ak’s buttons and he knew it. And it was working.

“How does that even work? I mean, she’s so much smaller than you. Very fragile too,” he taunted, pulling the back of Lo’ak’s head back, making him cry out in pain. “Be a shame if-” he started, but was caught off by a loud growl and hiss.

“Shut the fuck up!” Lo’ak sneered, “Keep her out of your fucking mouth.”.

Another cackle left the Colonel’s mouth, tongue gliding over his new sharp teeth before unsheathing the knife from his hip, holding it up inches away from the teen boys chest.

“No! Please! Don’t hurt him!” You yelled out, thrashing around in the soldiers grasp, ignoring the stinging in your scalp with every tug.

“Aw, that’s sweet. She’s begging me to not hurt you,” Quaritch commented, eyes glued on Lo’ak’s face, studying his expression. “I wonder what other kinds of begging she can do,” he grinned, eyes dark and sinister.

“Fuck you!” Both Lo’ak and Spider yelled out, angry at the man’s comment. The words coming out of his mouth was disgusting. It may have been socially okay to speak about women like that back on Earth, but on Pandora, women were treated with respect and praised. Both boys held you dear to their hearts. Lo’ak and Spider were going to kill Quaritch when they got the chance for the way he talked about you.

Spider and you have always been close. Being the only teenage humans on Pandora was hard but you had each other to lean on. Over the years, he became extremely overprotective over you, especially when it regarded a certain blue skinned boy. He always viewed you as family. He’d do anything to ensure that you were safe if it was deemed necessary. You may not be his sister by blood but he sure as hell treated you as if you were. So, hearing Quaritch’s words, he wanted to rip the man’s head off his body and put it on a stick as a warning for whoever else dared to speak such obscenities about his sister.

Lo’ak and you have been together for nearly two years, being close friends for way longer than that. He loved you since the day he met you and always treated you the way you deserved to be treated, with gentleness and kindness and respect. Never had he ever thought such vile innuendos Quaritch had hinted at. The older man was disgusting for thinking such things about a seventeen year old girl, especially one that was already called for. In Na’vi culture, it was a disgrace for one to talk about any women that way, mated or not. Lo’ak was raised to respect the women in his clan and those he came into contact with. So, having Quaritch talk about you in a way that made you want to throw up and sparked intense anger within Lo’ak’s system, made him want to repeatedly stab the man in front of him and watch the life leave his eyes. No one was allowed to speak about you in such ways. Not if Lo’ak had anything to do with it.

“Don’t talk about her in that way,” Spider growled out, struggling in the grips of the two soldiers that held onto him. (It was impressive that the human boy needed two Avatar soldiers to hold him back. His strength was closely compared to a regular Na’vi’s.)

Quaritch let go of Lo’ak, allowing the original soldier who had him in his grip to return to his previous position. He quickly turned around to face the both of you, your stomach dropping at his gaze.

“What’s your name, sugar?” He asked, crouching down to your level. You wanted to throw up on the spot from the nickname. It made you sick.

“Don’t fucking talk to her!” Spider snapped, achieving in getting closer to you and in Quaritch’s eyesight.

Quaritch quickly glanced towards Spider, lips forming into a thin line.

Before Quaritch or any of the other soldiers could do anything, you answered his question robotically.

“(Y/N) Selfridge.”.

The man before you stilled. He hasn’t heard that name in a long time.

“You’re Parker’s kid?” He asked, eyes slightly wide in shock. He didn’t know that Parker had a special lady during his time on Pandora. The man never seemed to be the one that was interested in that kind of stuff. Too busy trying to get the rare metal from underneath the very ground he stood on.

“No,” you spat, disgust evident in your voice, “I’m his niece. He dragged his sister, my Mother, to this planet years before the Na’vi won the Great War. She died giving birth to me after the battle.”.

Your explanation struck something within Quaritch. Parker mentioned a sister in passing during their very few and limited conversations. He never thought that Parker would bring her along to Pandora nor did he ever think that he’d leave her on the foreign planet alone to give birth. But, yet, he did almost the same thing to Paz and his son, Miles.

“What about you boy?” Quaritch asked, nodding at the human boy next to you. There were very limited surnames that went through the Colonel’s head as he waited for the boy to speak, his being one of them.

“Spider…Socorro,” he replied, hesitancy laced in his voice.

Quaritch’s heart stopped, “Miles?”, he asked.

Spider pierced his lips, eyes darting across the older man’s face as he stared up at him, “No one calls me that anymore,” he responded.

Quaritch was shocked, to say the least. He’d thought that they’d send him on the next available ship back to Earth. Albeit him being only a couple of months old, he still thought that there’d be a possibility that his son would go back to his Fathers home planet.

“I thought they sent you back to Earth,” Quaritch commented, voice slightly shaking, void of all the cocky confidence he had prior.

“They can’t put babies in cryo, dipshit,” Spider spat, fists tightly balling up at his sides. Surely his ‘Father’ couldn’t be that stupid. He should’ve known that there was no way for Spider to go back to Earth, to a planet where he’d have no one. Pandora is and always will be Spider's home.

An uncomfortable silence fell upon the group as seconds passed by. Meeting his long lost son seemed to throw him off, messing up his mojo. It was clearly evident on his face and in his body language. He seemed more tense and unsure of what he was doing.

The silence was broken by a voice erupting from behind you, “What should we do, boss?”.

As soon as the emotions from Spider’s confession of his surname came, they left just as quickly. Quaritch was back to the way he was before. “Tie ‘em up. Looks like we got ourselves some prisoners,” he responded, preparing himself to call in his position to Ardmore.

The rest of the soldiers exclaimed in agreement, slapping restraints onto the children they had captured and throwing them all into a circle near the shack.

The soldier that had you in their grip had harshly thrown you to the floor, causing you to groan out from the hard contact with the forest floor. They laughed at your reaction, taking a few steps back to talk with his fellow comrades.

Lo’ak had quickly scurried to your side, hissing at the soldier that threw you like you were a rag doll. His body was positioned in front of yours in a crouch, the tense muscles of his back being the only thing you saw before he abruptly turned around and brought you into his embrace, checking over every inch of your skin to see if there were any new cuts or scrapes he should be worried about.

You didn’t say anything as you tried your best to pull yourself closer into your boyfriend's body, the restraints on your wrists preventing you from wrapping your arms around his neck in comfort. Your brain was still trying its best to process the previous events that occurred.

Lo’ak could sense the tension in your body and how your brain was scrambling to pull itself together. So he brought you closer into his arms, bringing his tied wrists up and over your body before settling them against your back, pulling you into his chest and lap.

“It’s alright, paskalin,” he reassured, tucking your masked face into his neck, “I got you. I got you.”.

———

When Spider had nudged you and turned his head ever so slightly to you, eyes darting behind you where Lo’ak stood a few feet behind, you knew that Neytiri and Jake arrived. It was the slightest change in pitch of a call that drew your attention to the trees. Neytiri, you realized. Lo’ak had taken it upon himself to teach you all the callings and ululatings his Sa’nok had come up with, telling you which meant what. You supposed his late night lesson all those months ago came in handy at this moment.

Your head harshly jerked back from the soldier pulling at your hair, once again. He didn’t like it when you guys would interact with each other and decided that pulling at your hair and Kiri’s queue was the best option to teach you to not speak to the others.

Fucking dick, you thought to yourself, restraining yourself from turning around in the soldiers grip and sinking your dull teeth into the flesh of his arm. See how he’ll like it.

A low growl was heard from behind you, Lo’ak glaring at the man who yanked at your hair. He was beginning to itch to choke out the man who had your beautiful and soft hair in his hold. It made him angry that someone like him was touching you in a way that brought you pain. Made him want to bring you into arms and hold you like a prrnen. He wanted to kill anyone and anything that caused you harm.

The distinct yip echoed throughout the forest yet again, your eyes darting to where the Na’vi woman could possibly be. Neytiri may have not liked you and you may have a very strained relationship but you were overjoyed in the moment that she and Jake were here to save the lot of you. You found yourself thanking your lucky stars and the Great Mother for the fierce couple.

From Spiders left, you could hear Kiri begin to pray aloud to Eywa, muttering her words only loud enough for the soldier and the boy beside you to hear. In retaliation to Kiri’s mumbles, the soldier began tugging at her sensitive queue, causing you and Spider to follow with the harsh tugs as he also held both of your hair in his grip.

“Shut up!” He harshly whispered, getting annoyed with the girl's constant rambling. The more Kiri prayed, the more he tugged and demanded her to shut her mouth. Eventually, his command was cut off with a sharp thwick and an arrow lodged into his skull.

Chaos erupted from around you as the man behind you dropped to the forest floor dead. Guns began to go off, forcing you to duck as Spider grabbed both you and Kiri and pushed forward. You ran behind Spider as he followed after Kiri, restrained hands on the lower part of her back to keep her moving forwards but she was pulled back by another soldier.

Spider stopped his movements, which caused you to run into his back, hands going out to grip his hips to steady yourself.

Everything was going too fast. You could barely process what happened to Kiri before she was by your side again, the soldier who grabbed her slumped over with an arrow in her chest. Gassy smoke was spraying everywhere as RDA soldiers ducked behind whatever they could to hide from the onslaught of arrows Neytiri was shooting at them from her advantage point. Before you knew it, Spider began to pull at your handcuffs, urging you to follow him and Kiri as they began to retreat into the thick foliage of the forest. Your brain barely had time to process it all before the three of you were hurriedly crossing over a connecting branch to another tree.

You felt it before you heard it. The hot air and stinging of your skin as you went flying forward into Spider's back before the two of you ultimately fell and tumbled down the hill underneath the overpass that was just blown up from whatever weapon a soldier shot at it. Pain was all you felt as you rolled down the hill, harshly making contact with all the sticks and rocks along the path. It hurt. Everything hurt.

You must’ve slammed your head up against a rock or the ground because the next thing you knew, it all went black.

———

Adrenaline was coursing through his veins as he ran and jumped over everything in his path, Tuktirey hot on his trail as she followed her older brother.

It all went by too quickly for him to properly digest what just happened. The only thing on his mind was you. He just hoped that Spider and Kiri were already somewhere safe with you in tow. Should’ve grabbed her when I had the chance, fuck.

Lo’ak came up to an opening, not planning on stopping until two blue bodies popped out of nowhere, causing Tuk to let out a scream and him to jump out of the way. But as quickly as his fear settled into his stomach, it went away just as fast.

“Daddy!” Tuk cried out, running into her Sempul’s arms, whole body shaking from the shock and adrenaline coursing through her tiny body.

“Lo’ak,” Neteyam breathed out, bringing him into a hug, thanking the Great Mother for safely bringing back his younger siblings to him. Lo’ak leaned into the hug the best he could, hands still tied and whole body on alert for you.

“Tuk!” Neytiri called out, both her and Kiri emerging from behind some bushes, taking her youngest into her arms as she kneeled down to the forest floor, “Thank you Great Mother! Oh, thank you!”.

Jake had brought his second son into a hug after cutting his restraints off his wrists. But, as Lo’ak began to count the bodies around him, his heart sunk into his stomach. Spider nor you were in sight. Which only meant one thing.

“Where’s (Y/N)? Spider?” He shakingly asked, already knowing the answer.

Kiri looked up to her brother with tears in her eyes and a quivering lip. “They took him. They took them both!” She sobbed, head shaking at the fact. If only she had followed after you both. If only her Sa’nok didn’t pull her away.

Everything around Lo’ak began to crumble before him. The only thing he truly loved was taken from him, from right between his fingers.

As Jake tried to reassure his daughter that both you and Spider were going to be okay, that you both were tough kids, Lo’ak darted back into the forest, retracing his footsteps.

“Lo’ak!” Neytiri called out, trying to get him to come back. She was about to follow after him but Neteyam beat her to it, quickly running after him.

Tears began to brim Lo’ak’s waterline as he pushed himself to go faster, not wanting to accept the fact that you were now in the enemy's hands. His mate was in Quaritch’s hands, in the clutches of the RDA. Who knows what they’d do to you and Spider once you get to their base. Please, Great Mother, please bring her back.

But as the sight of the helicopter came into view and began to ascend back up with their precious cargo, Lo’ak felt his heart shatter into a million pieces.

“No!” He cried out, “Bring her back!”.

He fell to his knees as the flying piece of metal got tinier and tinier in his line of sight, becoming a bot in the starry sky before disappearing completely.

You were gone. Gone without a trace. Lo’ak had no way of tracking which base they’d bring you to. He had no way of saving you as he knew his Father would never waste bullets or Na’vi lives over you and Spider. The only thing he could do was cry out to Eywa to bring you back or have Quaritch come back and take him with you. But his prayers fell on empty ears.

“Little brother,” Neteyam softly called out, finally catching up to the teen boy.

The eldest Sully knew of your relationship with his brother. He had gone to visit Spider in the lab one afternoon when he stumbled upon you and Lo’ak in quite the compromising position. The younger had to beg the older to not speak a word about what he saw, knowing that if he did, their Sa’nok would have both of your heads on a stick. Neteyam hadn’t uttered a word of it since then.

Neteyam tried his best to comfort his brother, but he knew that the only person that could comfort him was you. And you were gone. Lo’ak was going to be inconsolable until he got you back into his arms.

“She’s gone, Teyam,” Lo’ak whispered, fat tears running down his darkening cheeks, “She’s gone.”.

“I know, Lo’ak, I know,” Neteyam cooed, bringing his brother into his arms for some comfort, “I’m sorry.”.

The rest of the Sully family had met up with Neteyam and Lo’ak, hugging the boy. None of them knew of your relationship, keeping it a secret from everyone, minus Neteyam and Kiri. Neytiri and Jake thought he was distraught at losing two of his closest friends but they couldn’t be further from the truth.

That night, Lo’ak cried himself to sleep, wishing that you were in his arms and that he could bury his nose into your neck and inhale your calming, yet intoxicating, scent.

Eywa, why didn’t you bring her back?, he thought to himself as sleep began to consume him, Why didn’t you take me with her?.

4K notes · View notes

randxmthxughts · 2 years ago

Text

Be Mine - Neteyam x Metkayina ! reader (fake dating)

summary: the one, where neteyam pretends to court the reader to avoid all of the nagging from his parents and a group of admirers. of course, it doesn’t take long for her to fall for him too

warnings: none really, pure fluff, fake dating trope, jealousy, loak x tsireya canon, events take place five years after the battle between the metkayina and the sky people, so aged up characters

wc: >12k

a/n: now that i finished writing this, i realized that i wrote an avatar version of bridgerton, lol </3 if you enjoy this, i love getting compliments and reblogs

masterlist

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

Everybody knew about Neteyam te Suli Tsyeyk'itan, ever since his family first stepped into your village. His blue skin, golden eyes, and the strange tail, were easily the talk of almost every conversation among your peers. Yet, despite the obvious physical differences, there was always something about him that fascinated you, lured you in.

Many things changed after the Battle at the Three Brothers. With the help of your soul sisters and brothers Tulkuns, and joined by the great Toruk Makto, your Olo’yektan had an upper hand and a decisive victory over the sky people. It was a victory to be passed down in stories to your future generations and to be celebrated gloriously among the clan. This year was marking its fifth anniversary, with a big celebration that would last the whole night.

Since that battle, Neteyam has truly transformed into a man, earning approving and respectful looks from all around him. His forest upbringing never held Neteyam back from growing into his place among the Metkayina: his once slim shoulders broadened, matching the most skillful divers, height increased, and his muscles started showing without even flexing. In addition to his looks, his physical appearance never betrayed his personality. It seemed like Neteyam had the purest, kindest heart amongst all, always rushing to help the villagers with their chores, big and small; whether it meant fixing up a canoe, carrying baskets of food, or sometimes even babysitting, that is if he had time. His father was reluctant to stop the training with his sons, just in case of another attack from the sky people, so Neteyam rarely had any time for himself.

Guys wanted to be his friends, while the girls were fawning over him, hoping to become his mate. It was no secret that now, being of an age to pick the one for himself, parents’ sudden attention and admiring looks were following him everywhere. But Neteyam didn’t rush to choose.

Unlike his brother, Lo'ak seemed to have his life all figured out, especially when it came to matters of the heart. Falling for Tsireya, Lo’ak had many expectations to live up to, if he wanted to be with her. After all, she was the daughter of the chief, and a tsakarem, the future Tsahik of Metkayina. And while at first, Tsireya’s parents were hesitant of the bond she was forming with the forest boy, Lo’ak’s family spoke for himself. His father had played a significant role in the victory at the Three Brothers, providing guidance and knowledge that helped secure their win. Lo'ak also worked hard on himself to earn her parents’ approval. So the day, when Lo’ak finally returned home with Tsireya's necklace around his neck, a symbol of acceptance, was the day when Neteyam felt the weight on his shoulders double in size.

You were no different from the other girls adoring Neteyam, as you had also developed a crush on him during your teenage years. It was unavoidable, really. Before you grew out of your friendship with Tsireya, the two of you used to be quite close. So when the Sully’s first moved to Awa'atlu, and Tsireya was assigned to guide the kids, you were often hanging around them too.

But it was easy for you to accept that you were never going to be an equal match for Neteyam. He had many admirers who were stronger than you, more skilled, more talented, and had respected families. Everything came into the play, and you were losing at every aspect. So, you have successfully suppressed this silly crush for years, before you could finally push it to the very far back of your mind and forget about it. Instead, you occupied yourself with your learning.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

Despite not being friends anymore, Tsireya and you have always maintained a polite demeanor towards each other. Now it did feel a little strange to be paired with her for the gathering of pxorna’ fruits, but you had to follow through. As per tradition, the entire clan was divided into groups to prepare for the upcoming celebration, and you were assigned to work together. Even though climbing tall trees wasn't exactly your strong suit as a water Na'vi, protesting wasn't an option: after all, the sweetest fruits were always at the very top. So, to make the task easier, you and Tsireya took turns climbing the trees and picking the fruits, then one would lower the bag for the other to catch and store into the big woven baskets provided. This method ensured that the bag wouldn't become too heavy for you to carry back down.

Ready to lower another batch of fruits, you call out to Tsireya to catch it. But instead of a response, all you can hear is her laughter. Surely enough, when you look down, you find her engrossed in a conversation with Lo’ak, completely ignoring you. You try to catch her attention one more time, before huffing under your breath, and deciding to climb down by yourself. You clutch the bag tightly against your chest, but as you get closer to the ground, some of the fruits start slipping out of your grip. Your hand reaches out instinctively to catch at least one, when you suddenly begin to lose your balance. You can almost imagine the damage to your back muscles, once you will hit the ground, when a pair of hands help you down on the ground.

“I got you,” you hear an accompanying voice.

“Thank you,” you blink in surprise, as you find Neteyam Sully to be your savior.

“You spilled some but they should be good,” he grins at you, as he crouches down and starts gathering the fruits from the ground.

Quietly, you empty your bag into the basket, throwing a glance at the other basket. It’s almost empty. You sigh out of frustration. There was still a lot of work to do, but Tsireya now seems to be completely distracted. At this rate, you’ll never finish.

“Lo’ak, that’s enough,” Neteyam grabs his brother by the shoulder, interrupting his chat with Tsireya. An amused smile creeps up on your face.

“Come on, bro, let’s stay,” Lo’ak gestures to the trees around him, “At least, there is work to do here. You know the area where Ronal sent us for fruit is dead.”

“I don’t care, if we have to gather fruits from the dead trees,” Neteyam tries to pull him but Lo’ak stands his ground, “Lo’ak, you know that whatever Ronal decides is not up to discussion.”

“Bro, we spent an hour climbing those trees for nothing,” Lo’ak points to the empty baskets they brought, “If we stay here, we can help out the girls and gather for ourselves too. No one has to know.”

“Neteyam, please,” Tsireya pleads.

“Ah, what the hell?” Neteyam shakes his head before breaking into a toothy grin, “But these baskets are gonna have to be full, Lo’ak.”

“Sure.”

You roll your eyes at how easily Neteyam agrees to the empty promise. You weren’t close with Lo’ak but even you knew how often he got into trouble for not keeping his word. It doesn’t take long to confirm your suspicion: while you and Neteyam are occupied with the task on hand, Lo’ak and Tsireya disappear from underneath the trees.

“Great,” you huffed, emptying yet another full bag into the basket.

“Don’t worry, I’ll help,” Neteyam says with a gentle tone.

You watch him empty out his bag into your basket too, instead of his.

“You don’t have to do that,” you feel guilty. Does he always work harder to overcompensate for Lo’ak’s behavior?

“I don’t mind.”

He takes it so light-heartedly, you wonder if it’s a daily occurrence. You stare off into the direction where Tsireya and Lo’ak had previously disappeared.

“Don’t you find it annoying?” you ask him curiously. Surely, even he must have his limits.

“They mean well, give them a break,” Neteyam chuckles, nudging your shoulder.

“You know if you keep covering for him all the time, he will never learn his lesson,” you shake your head, “Lo’ak will be the only adult who doesn’t know how to take care of simple chores.”

“He’s not that hopeless,” he laughs, finding your reaction amusing, “He’s just a kid in love.”

You don’t disagree with him, instead falling quiet. There was no place for you to talk about his brother’s behavior, you weren’t close.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t be discussing your family matters like this.”

“No need to apologize, Y/N,” his gaze softens, “Besides, wouldn’t you prefer a forest Na’vi climbing the trees, instead of Tsireya? I promise I am much better at it.”

“Of course you are,” you return his smile.

The two of you get back to work, with mostly Neteyam picking the fruits, and you filling up the baskets. Despite your initial annoyance with Tsireya for leaving you, you seem to enjoy working with Neteyam way more. He’s quick and attentive, and you are grateful for him overtaking the climbing part, because you were always a little clumsy when it came to physical activities.

Soon enough, the baskets are nearly full, so you decide to regain your strength and take a break. Neteyam peels fruits for the both of you, and you sit under the trees, enjoying the shade.

“Hey, did you make that bag?” he suddenly points at the pocket attached to your belt. It was a small woven bag that you had on you all the time, in case you found beads or rocks you could put to use.

“I did.”

“It looks great,” Neteyam smiles, “I’m not surprised though. You always had golden hands.”

“That is not true,” you disagree.

“Are you joking?” his smile grows wider, “Y/N, you make the most beautiful items. I see people approaching you everyday for help. Do you know anybody else in the village who is as skilled at weaving as you?”

“Well…no,” you shake your head.

“Believe me, you really have a talent for it.”

It wasn’t just weaving that he was referring to. You were pretty handy when it came to making jewelry, also clothes, and headpieces. When you first indulged yourself in weaving, eager to learn to make beautiful pieces for yourself, you never expected that it would turn into a hobby. Your expertise soon expanded to other things too, like making resin weapons, toys, you even took up pottery. Eventually, people noticed and started approaching you with small tasks here and there, and you were glad to help out. But your clan didn’t have a name for your occupation, so you never considered yourself to fit into one.

“Remember the ceremonial belt you helped me make? It still holds up incredibly,” Neteyam reminds you with a toothy grin.

Of course you remember. It was exactly four years ago, when one night, Neteyam came to your marui, ears pressed flat against his skull in embarrassment. He had to explain the reason for his late visit in front of your parents, saying that he had only the night to make his ceremonial belt. It took you by surprise, because Neteyam wasn’t known for slacking off. He just didn’t think that it would be so difficult to make a damned belt. Scolded by his parents for not starting out sooner, he was then too embarrassed to ask them for help, so there he was instead, asking for yours. Having a soft spot for Neteyam, your parents allowed you to help him, despite the late hour. You two barely caught any sleep that night, working on the belt, making sure that it looked special, different from the other guys’. Neteyam watched your movements attentively, eager to learn, so sometimes you would pass the belt back to him to practice.

“I see you still wearing it sometimes,” you smile.

“You really helped me out back then, I was going to get skinned if I didn’t have a belt by the time for my ceremony,” he pauses, “I still owe you for that.”

“Nonsense, no one owes me anything. Neither do you,” you shake your head, “I like helping.”

“You can’t possibly help everyone with nothing in return.”

“I mean, people bring me food here and there,” you chuckle.

“No gifts?” he quirks his eyebrow.

“Not so much. I can make my own gifts,” you shrug, “But Mateä brings me seashells sometimes.”

“Seashells? Do you like those?”

“Oh, they make necklaces and cover ups look so lovely. Of course, they’re a little tricky to work with but it’s worth it,” you explain, “And Mateä always makes sure to bring the most beautiful shells he can find… Sometimes, he even lets me have the ones he picked for himself.”

You knew Mateä ever since you were kids. He was only a year older than you, but he was very mature for his age, way more than anyone you knew. Mateä was also one of the most skilled swimmers in your clan, which allowed him to swim outside of the perimeters and discover great depths. So whenever he had a small task for you, like fixing up his spear, or making an armor for his ilu, in return he would bring you the most unique-looking, colorful shells he could find.

“Why would Mateä pick shells for himself?” Neteyam squints.

"He probably just likes them," you shrug, "But there were times when he asked me to make a shell necklace for him, but then he would insist that I keep it for myself because he knew how much I liked it."

“So he makes you make your own gifts?” Neteyam snorts.

“Hey, that’s rude,” you give him a playful slap on the arm, “It doesn’t matter. I have many beautiful things thanks to him.”

“I’m only kidding… I just think that he might like you, that’s all.”

“Maybe.”

You don’t deny his accusation, partly because there is some truth to it. Mateä’s and your fathers were close friends, so they were quite happy with the possibility of you and him bonding some day. And while growing up there was no pressure on either side, the two of you had always felt that something might happen. You were never opposed to the idea anyway. Mateä was a good match for you: he was admired for his strength and swimming, and he was very respectful towards you. And even when you had your little crush on Neteyam, you still knew that Mateä was a more likely option. More recently though, you suspected that Mateä was eyeing you too. He just never made a move… not a direct one anyway.

“Is he taking you as his date to the celebration tonight?” Neteyam interrupts your thoughts.

“Are we supposed to bring dates?” you ask, teasing. Sure, some brought dates to celebrations to make their bonds known but it wasn’t a requirement.

“Exactly! My father wants me to bring a date, like this isn’t a celebration of a battle.” he emphasizes the last word with his thick accent, clearly annoyed.

“Why does he want you to bring a date?” you cock your head.

“Because I lied,” he blurts out, a guilty expression covering his face.

“Lied?”

“That I am courting someone,” he cringes, “Even though that someone doesn’t exist.”

“Why would you lie about courting someone nonexistent when you have dozens of girls ready to be swept away by you?” you stifle a laugh, “Especially Zìsmì.”

“Please don’t mention her,” Neteyam rolls his eyes, “I don’t mean to sound rude but Zìsmì is very persistent. I sometimes have to turn directions to avoid running into her.”

“That’s kind of mean,” you decide to tease him, saying that with a stern tone, like you mean it. Neteyam shifts uncomfortably.

“You’re right, I’m sorry. It’s rude of me to talk about her that way,” he begins to apologize but stops at the sound of your laughter.

“I’m only joking, Neteyam,” you tilt your head back, “Don’t worry, everyone knows how pushy Zìsmì can get. If the two of you were ever to become mates, she would dominate you completely.”

“Thank you!” he agrees eagerly, “Please tell that to my parents. They have been so persistent that I reciprocate her attention. I mean… just because she is a good hunter and has respected parents, doesn’t mean I click with her.”

“Is that why you lied?”

“Yeah… I just didn’t think it through. I only said it to get them off my back for a while,” he explains, his voice low, “But when I told them that I wanted to keep it a secret for a bit longer, they got too excited. So sometimes, they kick me out of the house to go on my secret dates.”

“Secret dates?”

“I kind of told them that the girl I’m courting hasn’t told her parents yet, that’s why we have to hide.”

“For a lie you didn’t think through, you sure had many details to add,” you’re amused by the clear regret on his face, “So they want to meet her tonight?”

“To confirm that I am not lying. After all, it’s been going for over a month now,” he sighs.

“A month?”

“I know, I’m going to get skinned,” Neteyam hides his face in his palms.

“Skinned by whom? Dad or Zismi?” Lo’ak’s voice interrupts your conversation.

Hand in hand, Tsireya and Lo’ak emerge from the trees and sit in front of you. She throws a concerned look at Neteyam.

“Dad, of course” Neteyam breathes out, still not lifting his head, “I can deal with Zìsmì later.”

“Yeah, I don’t think so,” Lo’ak smirks, “By the way, you owe me, bro. Zismi was going to invite you as her date tonight.”

“What?” Neteyam looks up at his brother, “How do you know?”

“Oh, she asked me in the morning. She was looking for you, and then told me that she wanted to invite you.”

“What did you say?”

“I told her that she shouldn’t because you already had a date,” he shrugs.

“Lo’ak,” Tsireya groans, disappointed, “Now your brother will have to apologize to her, once she catches on the lie.”

“I am so dead,” Neteyam grunts, “If I could only have a little more time to think about it, I’m sure I can figure it out. But it’s like she’s conspiring with my parents against me.”

“Maybe you just need to finally turn her down,” you suggest, earning a chuckle from Lo’ak, “What?”

“Neteyam and rejecting someone don't go in the same sentence. He would rather run and sneak around the village, than tell someone that they annoy him.”

“I just don’t find that type of conversation pleasant. Or necessary,” Neteyam objects.

“They are necessary if the person doesn’t get the hint,” Tsireya adds, “Remember when Nauru -”

“Please don’t remind me of Nauru,” Neteyam interrupts her with a pleading voice.

“What did Nauru do?” you ask, now curious.

“Oh, you don’t know?” a grin stretches on Lo’ak’s lips, “It was insane.”

“It’s not funny, Lo’ak,” Tsireya shushes him, turning to you, “At first, it was kind of sweet. Nauru would leave gifts for Neteyam by his marui. But there was this one time she left him flowers, and, of course, she didn’t know that some of those were poisonous. Neteyam almost lost a finger because of her. She would also follow him everywhere, even show up to his hunts, almost earning an arrow in her head by another hunter. It was getting out of hand, and Neteyam had to reject her directly and ask her to give up.”

“Enough about Nauru,” Neteyam groans, “What am I going to do now? Even if I do turn down Zismi, I’d still have mom and dad to deal with.”

“You’re right,” Lo’ak agrees, empathizing with his brother, “I’m sure you’ll like someone eventually, but we both know how impatient our parents can get.”

The four of you fall silent for a moment, contemplating a solution to Neteyam's situation. But somewhere deep down in your heart, you feel a little relieved that he didn’t have his eye set on anyone yet. You are also partially grateful to your parents for not pressuring you in the same way. It must be hard having the Toruk Makto for your father.

“I know what to do to win more time, Neteyam!” Tsireya excitedly interrupts your thought process, “Remember the time Ao’nung asked Sìlälaw to play along, as if he was courting her?”

“That was pretend?” you ask. Surely, you missed out on a lot of things by not being friends with Tsireya anymore.

“Of course,” she says, like it’s obvious, “Before finding his mate, Ao’nung was getting scolded everyday by our mom and dad. So, he asked Sìlälaw to help him out, pretend like he was following her around, and she just didn’t like him back.”

“I don’t have time for that,” Neteyam shakes his head.

“No, hear her out, bro,” Lo’ak holds up his palm, “It worked once, right? Mom and dad stopped bothering you, when you lied about courting someone. Just show up this once, with anyone, and that’s it.”

“And afterwards?”

“Just lie,” Lo’ak exclaims, “Say that it didn’t work out or something, who cares.”

“And when it doesn't ‘work out’,” Tsireya chimes in, “You can win some more time by being ‘heartbroken’ and ‘not ready’ to pursue another girl yet.”

“It seems so excessive,” you comment, considering the plan, “Isn’t it easier to tell the truth?”

“The truth doesn’t work,” Neteyam lets out a painful chuckle, then turns to his brother, “Where would I even find someone to agree?”

“Now that’s tough,” Lo’ak hums, “Half of the girls are swooning over you, you’ll never hear the end of it.”

“What about Y/N?” Tsireya points at you.

“What about me?” you raise your eyebrows, confused.

“You don’t care for Neteyam like that,” she starts explaining, “And, you’ve had Mateä running after you for years now, but he still hasn’t even asked you out yet. Maybe if he sees you with Neteyam for one night, it’ll make him jealous and finally give him the push he needs.”

Neteyam snorts, like it’s an unlikely possibility.

“Mateä is never going to act out of jealousy, he’s not like that,” you object, “What if he stops speaking to me afterwards?”

“Then we will send Neteyam to talk to him. Neteyam will tell him that he’s heartbroken over you, and that you rejected him for Mateä,” Lo’ak chimes in, “He will dig for some information, nudge Mateä to confess to you. It’s so easy, like it was written in the stars.”

You can’t really find a flaw in Lo’ak’s suggestion. Maybe receiving a confirmation about your feelings is just the thing Mateä’s waiting for.

“Still, I’m not crazy. Do you even know how much pressure it would be to face all those girls?”

“Right, I shouldn’t be putting Y/N into such a position,” Neteyam supports your point.

“Y/N doesn’t have to face them at all. You can turn down those girls easily because you’ll have a perfect excuse. They would be too embarrassed to approach Y/N.”

“I guess,” Neteyam hums, “What do you think, Y/N? I mean, no pressure, but I would owe you for the rest of my life.”

“I don’t know,” you shrug your shoulders. It just feels icky.

“Come on, Y/N, for the sake of our past friendship,” Tsireya pleads with you.

“Okay… it’s just for one night, right?” you agree. It wasn’t.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

You feel like your heart is about to leap out of your chest, when Neteyam takes your hand in his. You take in a deep breath, heading towards the celebration with him. Lo’ak and Tsireya walk ahead of you.

It feels odd to be wearing Neteyam’s necklace instead of your own. That was the courtesy of Tsireya, who was convinced that once anyone saw you two exchange your necklaces, they would be convinced that the courting was serious.

“I’m scared,” you admit through your teeth.

“Thank you again,” Neteyam whispers, squeezing your hand.

“Come on, guys,” Lo’ak turns to the two of you with an excited smile, “Act natural, okay?”

You nod your head but you’re not sure how you’re going to survive through the night. The closer you get to the celebration, the more people start noticing you. Hushed voices and gasps is all that catches your attention, even though Neteyam walks right beside you. Why does everyone look so surprised? You almost feel offended by the looks you get. Were Neteyam and you really that incompatible?

The four of you take a seat around a small fire, pairs of eyes watching your every moment. You can’t help but sense Neteyam’s nervousness traveling down his body.

“You alright?” you whisper.

“Not really,” he admits, “Have you seen my parents yet?”

As you scan the crowd of Na'vi dancing and singing, your eyes land on Neytiri talking to someone. Jake stands beside her but his attention seems to be elsewhere, as he occasionally looks around him. Both of them are wearing celebratory clothing that is slightly more elaborate than any of yours. After all, it was a testament to their importance in the victorious battle.

“It looks like your father is looking for you.”

“Shit,” Neteyam lets out, nervously. You can’t help but laugh at his reaction.

“Keep it up,” Tsireya says, “The more relaxed you seem, the more believable this will look.”

She gestures at the two of you, and as you look down, you notice how close you and Neteyam are pressed to each other. It’s like you’re trying to hide from the attention you’re getting.

It’s not long before you catch Mateä watching you from afar. Your heart beats faster, when his eyes travel to your hand still intertwined with Neteyam’s. He gulps down, and you wonder if he feels jealous.

“Mateä’s looking,” Neteyam points out, “You want to take it up by a notch?”

“What do you mean?” you turn your face to him, confused.

There is a hint of playfulness in Neteyam’s eyes before he slowly leans in, his mouth close to your ear. You shudder under his breath.

“Pretend I said something funny, and laugh,” he whispers.

“I can’t pretend to laugh,” you whisper back, annoyed, “Can’t you just tell me something funny?”

Neteyam pulls back slightly to look at you. There is an amused smile resting on his face.

“We’re really bad at this, aren’t we?”

“You think?” you quirk your eyebrow at him, earning a small laugh from him.

“Okay, this can work too,” he says. You can’t help but smile at him.

But when you check for Mateä again, he’s nowhere to be found. Your smile drops. What if you hurt him? As if sensing your sudden change in mood, Neteyam gently squeezes your hand.

"Are you alright?" he asks, “Is Mateä still looking?”

“No, I think he walked away,” you mumble, standing up, “I’m going to get us something to drink, okay?”

“Alright,” Neteyam mumbles back, watching you leave.

“Are you crazy?” Lo’ak slaps Neteyam on the arm, “Go with her, or they’re gonna eat her up alive.”

Following Lo’ak’s gaze, Neteyam sees Zìsmì with her friends. He quickly gets to his feet to follow you but you have already disappeared in the crowd.

“Y/N,” Zìsmì’s voice catches your attention.

Sighing, you turn around to face her. She has a coy smile on her lips, as she takes you in from head to toe. You wait for her to talk.

“The necklace, did you make that yourself?” Zismi points to your neck, pretending as if she didn’t recognize it right away.

“It looks a lot like Neteyam’s necklace,” one of her friends says, before you could even open your mouth.

“That’s a little weird,” Zismi comments.

“You have a good eye, it is Neteyam’s necklace,” you gather as much confidence as you can, watching their expressions change, “He gave it to me.”

“Why would he give you his necklace?” Zismi scoffs.

“Because I wanted to see it on her,” you suddenly hear Neteyam’s voice, as he appears next to you, “Everything Y/N touches, basically turns into a lucky charm.”

The girls stare at Neteyam, their eyes widened. Again, you feel a little offended. Why is everyone so surprised that he likes you? Before you can react, Neteyam gently pulls you by your hand.

“We have to go, girls,” he throws with his most polite smile.

Feeling their stares like daggers in your back, Neteyam moves closer to you and wraps his arm around your waist protectively, leading you away from the prying eyes.

“Sorry, I shouldn’t have left you alone,” he cranes his neck to whisper.

“It’s alright, I’m not scared of Zismi,” you turn to look at him, “Unlike you.”

“Very funny,” Neteyam rolls his eyes.

His arm is still firmly wrapped around your waist, as the two of you continue walking. The warmth of his body against yours feels almost comforting, despite the curious glances you receive. Neteyam seems to notice it too, as he tightens his grip on you, pulling you a little closer to him.

"Just ignore them," there is a hint of annoyance in his voice. You wonder if it’s bothering him more than you.

As you get closer to the big fire, you hear a loud cheer erupt from the crowd. Instinctively, you want to find out what’s happening. A chuckle of disbelief escapes from your mouth, when you see Neytiri and Jake dancing around the fire, to the fast rhythm of the drums. While Neytiri’s movements are gracious and fluid, Jake’s are… Well, Jake is trying his best. She throws her head back in laughter, when he makes an awkward movement, but no one else dares to laugh at the Toruk Makto, except for his mate. Suddenly, he sweeps Neytiri up into his arms and twirls her around the fire. The Na’vi cheer them on and on, clapping their hands in amusement.

You join in on the clapping, caught up in their infectious joy. When you turn to look at Neteyam, however, you notice that he's cringing.

“Hey, what’s wrong?”

“They are acting like little kids,” Neteyam huffs.

“I think it’s sweet,” you nudge him with a smile, “Loosen up, Neteyam.”

“How can I?” he rolls his eyes at you.

“If your father can relax for one night, so can you,” you push him into the circle, with a loud shout, “Dance, Neteyam!”

Neteyam stands frozen for a moment, clearly embarrassed by your sudden action. His ears lower, and he tries to step out of the circle, but Lo’ak nudges him back in. The music picks up and the crowd cheers louder, but Neteyam stands still, clearly irritated by your behavior.

You can’t watch him anymore, so you jump to his rescue, and take his hands in yours. He tries to resist at first, but it doesn’t take much convincing on your part to get him to loosen up. As you embarrass yourself with the silly movements and faces you make, you finally coax a smile out of him. You don’t care about the others watching you, you only focus on getting him to dance with you. Soon enough, Neteyam’s confidence grows, and he starts to move more freely to the rhythm with you. You hold onto his hands, feeling the warmth of his touch, and beam with adoration as you watch him give in.

Other couples start joining in, and the circle becomes more crowded. People start pressing closer, pushing you and Neteyam towards each other, with barely any space left. His hands instinctively find your waist, yours rest on his biceps, holding him in place. You’re not sure whether it’s the heat of the fire, or it’s just him, but you feel warmer and warmer, every time his eyes meet yours.

“You okay?” you smile, noticing drops of sweat rolling down his face, “It’s too hot here.”

Before he can answer, you lead him out of the crowd. You catch a look from your parents’ from afar, and can only roll your eyes at them. You know they were going to question you about tonight but you don’t want to think about it for now. At least they don’t seem to be mad?

Distracted, you turn around, nearly colliding with Neteyam's parents. They look a little lightheaded, and you suspect they've had a drink made from the pxorna' fruits you gathered earlier. Quickly, you bow low and bring your fingers to your forehead in greeting. Neteyam shifts uncomfortably beside you.

“Son… and Y/N,” Jake looks between the two of you with an approving smile.

“Y/N, are you the one Neteyam was hiding from us?” Neytiri asks curiously.

“Mom,” Neteyam tenses up, “Let’s not make her uncomfortable, please.”

Neteyam looks so stressed, you wonder how his parents believed his lies in the first place. Maybe they were blinded by the excitement?

“We’re just glad that it’s been her this whole time,” Jake says, smiling at you, “You’re very talented, Y/N.”

“Thank you,” you reply, shying away from the compliment.

“We were worried that Neteyam was lying just to avoid us,” Neytiri explains.

Neteyam and you chuckle nervously, hoping that this isn’t her smart way of cracking you.

“Are your parents aware?” she asks, scanning the crowd. You quickly draw her attention back to you.

“They are now… I am sorry that Neteyam had to keep this a secret from you, that was my wish,” you lie, “It is just that my mother likes rushing into many things, and I still needed some time to get to know Neteyam.”

You weren’t completely off; your mother did have a tendency to rush into things. If she had known that you were open to dating Mateä, she would have already told him by now.

“No need to apologize,” Jake chimes in, “If anything, I feel bad for forcing your hand.”

“You should feel bad,” Neteyam grunts but you can sense that he’s holding back from saying more.

“It’s alright, I’m happy to be here tonight with Nete,” you pat Neteyam on the back.

Dropping a nickname seems to be just enough to convince them. You notice the satisfied smiles settle on their faces.

“Ma’Jake, let’s leave them alone. After all, it’s their first outing as mates,” Neytiri murmurs, pulling Jake by his hand.

“We’re not mated yet,” Neteyam cringes, but she only finds it amusing.

“It is only a matter of time, you are your father’s son after all.”

As the two of them walk away, laughing, Neteyam takes a deep breath to calm himself down. You can sense how embarrassed he feels, knowing what you heard. But you didn’t mind it all, he has no reason to be this upset.

“Are you okay?” you nudge him but Neteyam refuses to look at you, “Hey, don’t be like that.”

“I just...I didn’t think it would be this hard,” he admits, looking down.

“What would be hard? Pretending to be in love with me?” you tease, craning your neck to see his face.

“No,” he doesn’t even crack a smile, “I’m sorry for getting you into this mess.”

“You don’t have to apologize, I am enjoying this,” you take his hand in yours, finally getting him to look at you, “Besides, we’re almost done, right?”

“Right,” he nods.

“Now, come on, pretend that I said something funny and laugh,” you playfully repeat his words. Neteyam's lips twitch into a smile before he breaks into a genuine chuckle, causing your heart to skip a beat. You love the sound of his laughter.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

“You two look so good together, I am not ready for this to be over yet,” Tsireya beams, as she plops down in front of Neteyam and you. Lo’ak follows her suit.

“Maybe you should keep it up for a little longer, bro. The way you were dancing - “ Lo’ak starts to imitate Neteyam’s dancing but Neteyam slaps him.

“Stop that, skxawng.”

“Just ignore him, Neteyam, you were great out there,” Tsireya says softly.

“Seriously, being less tense suits you,” you agree, noticing Neteyam hiding a shy smile.

“I got to admit, it wasn’t bad at all,” Lo’ak straightens up, “I just haven’t seen you dance since Naye.”

“Let it go, Lo’ak,” Neteyam grunts.

“Who’s Naye?”

“Neteyam’s first crush from back home,” Lo’ak snickers, enjoying how far he can push his brother, “Neteyam was so in love with her, he couldn't even talk to her. So this one time, during a celebration, he decided to express his feelings by dancing for her.”

“Well, what did she say?” your ears perk up in anticipation.

“She just pretended like it wasn’t happening and walked away,” Lo’ak breaks into laughter.

“That’s not funny,” Tsireya covers Lo’ak’s mouth with her hand, “It’s alright, Neteyam, we all had our share of silly teenage crushes.”

She unintentionally throws you a knowing look, for support, but Lo’ak immediately catches on.

“Who did Y/N have a crush on?” he asks.

You stiffen, feeling their gazes intensifying on you.

“It doesn’t matter now,” you try to switch the topic but Lo’ak doesn’t seem to give up.

“It shouldn’t matter then, if you say it,” he pushes, “It can’t be that bad.”

You let out a sigh, knowing that you won't be able to get out of this.

“I used to have a crush on Neteyam,” you admit as laughter erupts.

You shoot daggers at Lo’ak, who is now rolling in the sand, while Tsireya tries to cover up her laughter. You turn to Neteyam, who looks at you with a shy smile on his face.

“Before you say anything, I feel like I should clear this,” you hold up your hand, “It was just a fleeting crush before I got to know you. And it disappeared. So please don’t feel uncomfortable.”

“So you’re saying your crush disappeared right after you got to know him?” Lo’ak asks, another wave of laughter hitting him. Shit. That’s not how you wanted it to sound.

Neteyam only rolls his eyes at his brother, while Tsireya tries her best to keep a straight face.

“I’m sorry, we just sneaked some of the pxorna’ juice,” she explains.

“I can tell,” you grit through your teeth. You have now truly understood the embarrassment Neteyam felt a moment ago.

“Y/N, please don’t take this to heart,” Tsireya rests her palm on your thigh, “Who cares what happened five years ago? We know you’re interested in Mateä now anyway.”

“Yeah,” Neteyam clears his throat, agreeing, “It was a silly crush, right? It’s all in the past now.”

You nod, but you can't shake off the feeling of unease. You couldn’t help but wonder if Neteyam was relieved that he didn't have to reject one more girl, or if he was secretly disappointed that you were interested in Mateä instead of him.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

When Neteyam asked you to keep up the fake courting till the hunting festivities to make his heartbreak more believable, you agreed. The festivities were supposed to begin only in a few weeks, to mark the beginning of the hunting season, so you thought it wasn’t a big deal. You could wait. Besides, it seemed like things were looking up for the two of you.

Neteyam was finally getting some time for himself. His father had started to ease up on him, cutting short his training. Knowing that Neteyam was supposedly courting you, Jake wanted to give his son a chance to focus on that.

The past few months had been so tough on Neteyam both physically and mentally, that all he wanted to do was rest and recharge. So he would often use that free time to drop by your marui and ask to take naps on your floor, while you were working on whatever project you had. Since your parents were mostly out, letting you work in peace, Neteyam’s quiet snoring was no burden. And if anyone was visiting you to ask for help with their items, they would only throw an amused look at sleeping Neteyam and leave you two alone, helping you keep up your fake image without much effort. Sometimes, you would catch yourself watching him too, admiring the peaceful expression on his face, as he slept. Of course, this didn’t escape your parents’ attention, as they were peppering you with questions about Neteyam’s intentions almost every night. But you mostly ignored their inquiries, focused on the simple pleasure of being able to help Neteyam.

Slowly, the girls who used to fawn over Neteyam not too long ago also started to lose their interest. Especially with Zismi's parents informing Neytiri that they were considering another match for their daughter. Neteyam felt relieved by the idea that he didn’t have to reject anyone anymore.

On the other hand, you started noticing more efforts from Mateä. Even though you feared that he wouldn’t act out of jealousy, Mateä seemed to be persistent in seeing you more often than he usually did. Whenever you went for a swim, he was right there with you, trying his best to make you laugh. Whenever you would carry a heavy basket, Mateä sprung to your side to help. Not to mention the beautiful seashells he started to bring you without particular reason. It seemed like any day now, Mateä was going to confess his feelings for you. Neteyam didn’t seem particularly pleased whenever he witnessed your interactions, but you only assumed it was an act.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

As you rounded the corner to your marui, you suddenly spotted Neteyam pacing around it. You hesitated to approach him as you could hear him mumbling something under his breath. It was almost like he was practicing some sort of speech. Instead, you carefully lowered yourself into the water and swam closer to your home, hiding just underneath. You were close enough to hear him and avoid being seen. You weren’t going to eavesdrop for long, you just wanted to find out what he’s doing before revealing yourself.

Neteyam suddenly stopped talking, and for a second, you thought that he had spotted you. That is until, Mateä came into your view, stopping by the entrance to your marui. You watch quietly, as the two of them exchange a brief greeting.

“Is Y/N here?” Mateä gestures to the marui, but Neteyam shakes his head, “Oh, I guess I thought she’d be here with you.”

“Why would she be with me?” Neteyam asks, with a slight annoyance in his voice.

“Aren’t you courting her?” Mateä asks, confused, “Or are those just rumors?”

“No, it’s true,” Neteyam seems to get his act back together. For a second, you were worried he would accidentally reveal something, “But Y/N is not tied to me every minute of the day, so…”

“So it is true that you’re not mated yet,” Mateä mumbles under his breath.

“Did you have something to pass to her?” Neteyam asks impatiently, crossing his arms over his chest. What is he doing?

“Actually, I'd prefer to give it to her myself," Mateä matches his tone, clearly not liking the possessiveness Neteyam radiates.

“If it’s another thing you want her to make for you, she’s been busy lately,” Neteyam scoffs.

“It’s not a task, I brought her a gift.”

“Let me guess, more seashells?” Neteyam rolls his eyes. What is wrong with him?

“That’s right, I know how much she likes those,” Mateä steps forward.

Seemingly unfazed, Neteyam takes a step forward as well. You shift, thinking of interrupting them before things start to escalate. But Mateä doesn’t seem to be in the mood for an argument. Instead, he brushes past Neteyam towards your marui.

"I'll leave them on her table. Tell her I brought them for her when she comes back," Mateä says over his shoulder. "Actually, don’t bother. She'll know they're from me anyway."

Neteyam watches in annoyance as Mateä disappears into your marui. You can almost hear him exhale loudly, trying to calm himself down. Maybe Neteyam’s just having a hard day today, you think. Perhaps something to do with his father? When Mateä comes back out, he leaves without a word.

Quietly, you swim to the back of your marui, and get out of the water. You pause before rounding the corner, and approaching Neteyam. Upon seeing you, he forces a small smile.

“Neteyam,” you greet him.

“Hey, Y/N,” he scratches the back of his head, nervous.

“Are you here for another nap?” you tease him, proceeding into your marui.

“Actually… no,” he follows you in.

You hum, waiting for him to elaborate, as you start taking out some of the supplies you gathered from your bag. It’s then that your eye catches the beautiful green shells laid out on your table. Neteyam stands awkwardly by the wall, watching your reaction.

“Who brought those?” you turn to ask him.

“Mateä,” Neteyam answers, “I forgot to mention. He was here earlier to see you.”

“Too bad I missed him,” you say, testing his reaction, “But it’s weird that he hasn’t asked me out yet. What do you think? You’re a guy.”

Neteyam has to physically restrain himself from cringing at your words. It takes him a second to regain his calmness, before putting on that fake voice he uses around his father.

“It is weird. He should have asked you out a long time ago.”

“Maybe he just doesn’t like me enough,” you turn your attention back to the shells.

“Nonsense. He’s just a coward,” you hear him scoff.

Surprised, you look at Neteyam again, studying his face. There is a mix of frustration and shame on his face. It's hard to tell if he's getting possessive over you, or if there's something else that's bothering him.

"Is everything okay?" you ask softly, trying to gauge his reaction, “You seem to have a problem with Mateä.”

"Everything's fine. Just... he always seems to hang around you lately," he says, his voice trailing off.

“Well, wasn’t that kind of the point?” you gesture between the two of you, referring to the fake courting.

“I guess,” Neteyam hums, you wait for him to continue, “I just don’t like that he acts like a coward.”

“Maybe if you stop scaring him away…” you mumble under your breath, but he’s quick to catch it.

“You don’t want someone who is so easily intimidated anyway.”

You don’t respond, confused by his behavior. Quietly, you start painting the pot you left unfinished last night. Neteyam falls silent too, watching you. He can’t understand what you see in Mateä. It just doesn't make sense to him. Neteyam also can’t understand why Mateä hasn’t made a move yet. Does he want you to choose him over Neteyam first? Or was he giving you other options, so you don’t have any regrets afterwards?

“You said you wanted something?” you interrupt his thoughts.

“Um, right,” he clears his throat, “It’s kind of awkward.”

You put down the pot and turn to face him, suspecting that it is going to be something good.

“What is it?”

“Well… apparently we’re not convincing enough,” he looks down at his feet, awkwardly, “People think that it’s just a rumor, that I’m courting you.”

“A rumor?” you frown, “But we’re hanging out all the time.”

Is he referring to Mateä’s words? Surely, if there was a rumor like that, Tsireya would have mentioned it to you a long time ago. She was keeping you updated.

“No one ever sees us together outdoors, not after the celebration,” his voice gets a little higher, “I was just thinking that we could take it up by a notch?”

“Well, what did you have in mind?” you tilt your head, curious. Neteyam’s eyes widen at your quick agreement.

“I take you on a date?”

“A date?” you smile, “Alright.”

A toothy grin spreads across Neteyam’s face at your response, causing your cheeks to flush with heat. You can't help but wonder if the two of you were getting too involved in this, and whether it was going to get in your way. But you can't deny the excitement you feel at the prospect of a date with Neteyam. Even if it’s a pretend one.

“What should I wear?”

“Anything pretty, and don’t worry about ruining it. I won’t take you into the water,” he says confidently, like he has everything planned out already.

“Okay,” you agree, reaching for one of the shell-necklaces you made for yourself. You raise your hand to show it to him, “How about this?”

“Hmm,” Neteyam pretends to think about it, as he leans against the wall.

You watch him with an amused smile stretching your lips. You rarely get to see a playful side of Neteyam but you love it when he acts like this.

“I think I have to see it on, to decide,” he finally says his verdict, before cracking a smile.

You roll your eyes but comply anyway, walking up to him and shoving the necklace into his hands. As you turn around and move your hair out of the way, Neteyam carefully begins to tie the necklace around your neck. You can feel his hands shake slightly, as he takes his time. When he’s done, and you turn to face him, Neteyam is standing too close to you.

“Do you like it?” you meet his eyes, unable to put a distance between you.

“I do,” he breathes out.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

“Hey, Y/N, just dropping by for that pot. If it’s ready,” Tsireya walks into your marui, catching you off guard.

You had just put on a delicate pearly top you’ve made for yourself a while ago, and were trying to see if the ties in the back were in place. Tsireya gasps at the sight of you, bringing her hands to her mouth.

“Did you make that?!” she beams at you, “You look beautiful, Y/N, it suits you so much!”

“You think? Not too much?” you quirk your eyebrow, pushing her for the truth.

“Not at all,” she answers with a knowing look, “Are you going to see Mateä?”

“No, not Mateä,” you shake your head. Tsireya looks at you confused, and you suddenly feel awkward having to explain yourself, “Neteyam wanted us to have a fake date somewhere public.”

“Oh,” that’s all she says.

It’s easy to see when something is bothering her. After all, you have been friends for a long time, you knew Tsireya like the back of your hand.

“Just say it,” you urge her to speak.

“I just think that you shouldn’t drag this out for so long.”

“But Neteyam kind of needs me to keep playing into it,” you explain yet she doesn’t seem convinced, “Besides, Mateä has been showing more interest recently, so it works for both of us.”

“It doesn’t work for you and Mateä,” Tsireya disagrees, “You need to drop this, and Neteyam has to speak to Mateä before it’s too late.”

You don’t answer, considering her words. Tsireya is right, perhaps you should wrap this thing up. It was only supposed to be for one night, right?

“Unless… you like him?” Tsireya looks at you, suspiciously.

“Who?” your voice hitches.

“Seems like you’re starting to like Neteyam again,” Tsireya lets out with a sigh. She hated keeping things from you, but she also couldn’t lie.

Your cheeks flush with embarrassment. Deep down, you suspect that she might be right. Neteyam was quickly starting to work his way back into your heart.

“I am just helping him out, Tsireya. There’s nothing between us,” you lie.

“I just think that this is not worth it… you and Mateä can have something really great.”

“The pot is ready, right over there,” you point to your table.

Tsireya throws an apologetic look at you, and picks up the pot, thanking you. She senses that you don’t want to talk about Neteyam anymore, and decides to give you time to think.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

“Neteyam?” you frown, as he keeps gawking at you, without a word.

It has been a few moments since he saw you walking out of your marui, and he still hasn't said anything. You begin to feel anxious about your appearance. Is it too revealing? Are the pearls too much? You just wanted to look like you were going on a date.

"You look like a beautiful syulang," he finally breathes out, admiring your look.

“You mean it?” you take a step closer to him.

“I do, you look very pretty,” he confirms, but takes a step back. You notice that he keeps his hands behind his back, as if he's trying to hide something.

"Thank you," you reply, "What do you have back there?"

“Uh, I brought this for you,” he says, bringing forward something wrapped in a large green leaf.

You can't see what's inside, but you assume it's fragile, given how carefully he held it. As you take it from him and begin to unwrap, Neteyam observes your every move with anticipation.

"You really didn't have to bring me anything, Neteyam," you say, meeting his gaze for a moment, “It's not like a real date anyway.”

"I wanted to," he responds shyly.

As the wrapping comes undone, you see a handful of small, delicate yellow flowers. They're unlike anything you've ever seen before, petals shaped in a unique swirl in the ends. As you bring them closer to examine, you gawk back at Neteyam.

"Let me show you something," he smiles.

Without waiting for your permission, Neteyam takes your hand in his, opening your palm and holding it above the flowers, throwing a shade. The yellow flowers begin to glow with a soft, natural luminescence.

“How come I’ve never seen these!” you beam, earning a satisfied grin from him, “This is very special, thank you.”

“I’m not a very good diver, so I can’t get you those shells you like,” he confesses, “But I saw these glowing at the top of the mountain when I was flying last night, so I went back for them this morning because I thought you might like them.”

“I don’t need you to bring me shells, Neteyam, these are very special,” you carefully pull him in for a hug with your free hand, trying not to squish the flowers. As Neteyam wraps his arms around your waist, bringing you closer, you close your eyes in comfort.

You were already thinking of ways to preserve the flowers, perhaps gathering some resin, and making jewelry out of them. Or something for your hair? Your marui?

“I’ll put them into water, so that they don’t die by the time I get back,” you say, pulling back from Neteyam.

“Don’t worry, I can always bring you more,” he smiles.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

Pretending with Neteyam had become effortless. As you strolled along the beach, Neteyam and you were just talking, catching up on the things that happened in the past years. Occasionally, you would make him laugh, and it warmed your heart to see him happy like that, carefree. Whenever you would notice someone watching you, Neteyam would ask you to hold hands with him to appear more serious. You agreed, of course, but Tsireya’s words were slowly weighing on you. You were letting it yourself get too invested, meanwhile Neteyam was only pretending.

As he walked you back to your marui, you could sense his growing nervousness.

“I think my neighbors are watching us,” you whisper with a smile, coming to a halt in front of the entrance.

“Are they big on gossip?” Neteyam leans in slightly, like he’s about to tell you a secret.

“Oh, very big,” you chuckle, “They are always asking my mother about you.”

“Maybe we should give them something to talk about,” he gulps down, bringing his face closer to you.

As Neteyam's eyes lock onto yours, you suddenly feel your heart race. You can't deny the tension between you, but you also can't ignore the possibility of this causing more trouble than it's worth. The thought of rumors spreading around the village about you and Neteyam kissing makes your stomach churn. Maybe this is too far.

“What do you mean, Neteyam?” you manage to ask, captivated by his eyes.

“Can I kiss you?” he whispers, so quietly, like he’s going to scare you away.

“It wouldn’t be a proper date without a kiss,” you mumble. It was supposed to be a joke, a snarky comment, but you sounded so desperate, so impatient to feel him.

Neteyam only nods, his gaze fixed on your lips. He leans in, then hesitates, as if asking for one last permission. You tilt your head slightly, your heart racing in your chest. And when he finally closes the distance between you, you feel his soft, gentle lips on yours. It's so delicate and slow that it feels like a dream, intimate and special.

When you pull away, you notice a small smile resting on his lips. You can’t help but shy away from his gaze, taking a step back.

“Well, I think that was convincing enough,” you joke, trying to sound nonchalant about it.

“Thank you for tonight, Y/N,” he says, straightening up, “Have a sound sleep.”

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

Your sleep wasn’t sound at all. You tossed and turned on your mat throughout the night, much to the annoyance of your parents. Your eyes kept being drawn to the bowl of flowers, casting a soft glow in the darkness. It reminded you of stupid Neteyam, of his stupid lips, and stupid captivating golden eyes that glowed the same way under the moonlight. You couldn't get him out of your head, and it was starting to drive you crazy.

Tsireya's warning echoed in your mind - this pretend relationship with Neteyam was going too far. You knew you had to have a serious conversation with him and move on with the final stage of the plan: turn him down. If not, you could ruin your chances of finding a real relationship. Without Neteyam.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

Early in the morning, with a determined stride, you make your way to the beach, where you spot Neteyam, training with his father and a group of guys. You don’t think through what you’re going to do, when Jake suddenly notices you.

“Good morning, Y/N,” he says, drawing everyone’s attention to you, “Anything I can help you with?”

You greet them, and gulp down, easily finding Neteyam’s curious gaze on you. Well, you have come so far, why not just get it over with?

“Can I speak to Neteyam for a moment? It won’t take long,” you turn to Jake.

Jake purses his lips, but nods at Neteyam, giving him a sign to go. He approaches you with a worried look on his face.

“Is something wrong?”

“No, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt your training,” you apologize.

Neteyam obliges, when you lead him away from the beach, to talk in private. It’s still early, so most of the clan is asleep. You feel nervous under his patient gaze but you know it has to be done.

“I wanted to talk to you about us,” you begin. Neteyam nods, encouraging you to go on, “I know there’s still a week until the hunting festivities, and I promised to help you till then, but I don’t think I can.”

Neteyam’s eyes widen slightly, but he remains calm.

“Do you want us to stop pretending?” he asks softly.

“Yes, I think it’s for the best if we stop now. If we keep going on dates and…kissing, it might give people the wrong idea, and I don’t want that,” you answer, trying to keep your voice steady.

He looks down at his hands for a moment, thinking. You don’t interrupt him. He’s probably just trying to come up with the best way of telling his parents. He doesn’t seem saddened that he won’t be forced to spend time with you anymore. You’re the idiot who fell for her fake boyfriend.

“I understand, Y/N,” Neteyam finally says, meeting your eyes, “Thank you for helping me so far.”

“It’s fine,” you let out a breath, “Then it is decided. And Neteyam…we have to keep our distance from now on.”

Neteyam watches, as you walk away with a mixture of feelings. You're relieved, yet also disappointed that the fake relationship is over. You can't help but wonder if things could have been different between you and Neteyam, if only circumstances were different.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

The following days seem to stretch with a painful slowness. You feel lost, with a constant sense of longing that follows you like a shadow. The realization that you had fallen head over heels for Neteyam and can’t be with him hits you hard. You feel stupid but you can't help thinking about him all the time, trying to carry on with your day-to-day tasks. But it seems like everything is taking more effort than it used to.

Every now and then, you catch a glimpse of Neteyam from afar, and he looks just as sad as you feel. You can't help but wonder if he's just putting on a show for the sake of the rumors, to make it believable. You wish you could just talk but avoiding him is the right thing to do for now.

And as suspected, it doesn’t take long for rumors about you turning him down to start spreading throughout the clan. People notice that you two aren’t spending time together anymore and are avoiding each other. It is ironic, how they think that it's Neteyam going through a heartbreak, when in reality it is you.

When Tsireya comes to congratulate you on the successful plan, she tells you that Mateä has heard the rumors and was preparing to confess to you. But you don’t want Mateä anymore. Instead of sharing Tsireya’s excitement, you can’t hold back any longer, and break down in front of her, confessing your true feelings for Neteyam. It is freeing to finally let it out, to have someone to confide in. As she comforts you, it feels like you are friends again, if only for a moment.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

You got ready a long time ago. Your hair decorated with feathers and beads, face painted with white ceremonial patterns. In a few hours you would be joining the rest of the clan, to wish a farewell to the Metkayina hunters. The Tsahik would bless them with a prayer to Eywa, and after you sing your songs, the young men will leave. It was a tradition in your clan, that at the beginning of each year, the young hunters would travel by the water to an unfamiliar land. It was a test that every hunter had to pass, to learn to adapt in every situation and be able to stand for himself and for his allies. Sometimes, it would take them a few days to return back with a prey. Sometimes, it would last a full moon. It depended on Eywa’s guidance, and the hunters couldn’t return without receiving a blessing first.

Despite the value it held, the passage was still dangerous. It was painful for you to recall the instances when the groups returned with wounded or missing Na’vi. And although you were aware that it was Neteyam’s third time going on the hunt, you couldn't help but feel worried sick for him. Tonight, with the rest of your clan, you had to show your support, but your mind was contemplating not showing up at all. You didn’t want to see his face, afraid that it might make your heart break further.

There was still time for the ceremony, as you wandered off to the water, trying to calm down your nerves. It would be disrespectful not to go, you had to show up and pray to Eywa that she keeps Neteyam safe and sound. You’re so deep in your thoughts, it takes you a second to notice Mateä sitting down next to you. You force a small smile to greet him.

“Excited for tonight?” he gestures to the extra pieces of ceremonial clothing you’re wearing on your arms and legs.

“Just wanted to be ready in time,” you’re not sure how to respond. You knew Mateä your whole life, yet it feels awkward to be with him alone.

“I heard that you turned down the son of Toruk Makto,” Mateä emphasizes, you hum, “I will not lie to you, at first, when I heard about it, I was relieved. I thought that he doesn’t deserve you. But seeing you like this… it saddens me. I do not wish for you to be unhappy.”

“Thank you, Mateä,” you hang your head at his words.

“Listen, Y/N,” he says softly, “We have known each other since we were babies. And while I curse myself for not spending more of my time with you back then, I do not want to regret this chance too.”

You meet his eyes again, nervously. You knew him pretty well. When Mateä was sure about something, he confronted it head on. Whether it was a rejection or an acceptance, he wished to know the truth in order to move on.

“I always had my eye on you, Y/N,” he confesses, “What I didn’t realize that it was not just in a way one would look after their friend. It is shameful to admit but… it took me seeing you with another man to understand the true nature of my feelings. I like you, Y/N, and I wish to know if you feel the same way.”

You gulp down, tears filling up your eyes. The man you thought you could spend your life with was finally opening his heart to you, yet you didn’t want it. Your own heart belonged to somebody else. Oh Eywa, why couldn’t you enjoy what you had wished for?

“Don’t cry,” Mateä whispers, noticing the tears rolling down your cheeks, “Your heart belongs to him, doesn’t it?”

You can see the brave face he puts on, as you slowly nod your head. You feel so guilty and ashamed for admitting it to him. Mateä was really one of the only people in your life that you valued, and you were hurting him.

“I’m sorry,” you sniff, “If there was a way for me to make this better…”

“You don’t have to apologize, just don’t cry, okay?” he reaches out to wipe away your tears, and you nod again, “That is enough for me.”

You don’t feel like you even deserve his attention right now.

“Mateä, if I could take away the pain that I’m causing, you know I would in an instant,” you mean it.

"I know, Y/N. But you can't help who you love," he says softly, "Regardless of what you choose to do, just promise me that we can still be friends, alright?"

"Of course, Mateä, you mean a lot to me," you nod, grateful.

"Good,” he stands up with a small smile, “Now, let's go. We don't want to be late."

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

You quietly take a seat next to Tsireya, who is anxiously watching Lo’ak from a distance. Despite knowing how important it is for Lo’ak to partake in the tradition, she can’t help but feel worried for him. You lay your hand on her shoulder to comfort her.

“Lo’ak is a skilled hunter. You know that Jake takes training very seriously,” you reassure her.

“You’re right,” she nods her head, then turns to face you, “You came with Mateä... Did you talk?”

You nod, pursing your lips together. It’s not difficult for Tsireya to realize what happened. It was only logical that you would reject Mateä because of your feelings for Neteyam.

“Oh, Y/N,” she lets out, pulling you in for a hug. You feel like it’s comforting not only you, but also her.

As the rhythm of the log drums slowly picks up, everyone falls quiet. The Tsahik makes her way to an open space, and the hunters quickly surround her in a circle, kneeling down. It’s then that you see Neteyam, wearing his headpiece and armor, with bow and arrows attached to his back. You can’t help but feel a twinge of worry for him but you push the feeling aside, afraid that it might ruin his luck.

When the Tsahik’s voice fills the air with a praying chant, the hunters begin to sway in unison, seeking the blessing and guidance of Eywa for their upcoming journey. With the rhythm of the log drums, you find yourself lost in the moment too, closing your eyes and letting yourself be carried away.

Eventually, when Tsahik stops, the hunters rise to their feet. As per practice, they must bid farewell to their loved ones, in case they may not return. You can’t help but feel nervous because this part of the ceremony is usually long, and Tsahik allows everyone to take their time. You know that soon enough you will watch Neteyam making his way to his family, and it hurts to know that he won’t be saying goodbye to you too. With every passing second, you feel more anxious, and all you want to do is get away from there. So, when the rest of the clan starts moving, you stand up to leave without even looking in his direction.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

You rush through the trees, making your way into a small clearing, illuminated by the moonlight. You take a moment to breathe in and out with the sounds of nature, and eventually calm yourself down. When suddenly you hear a rustling of the leaves.

Your heart skips a beat as you see Neteyam making his way to you, with a mix of concern and confusion.

“Y/N, why did you run off?” he asks, as soon as he’s close enough for you to hear.

“Doesn’t matter,” you dismiss him, “Why are you here? You should be with your family now.”

“I already talked to my family,” Neteyam comes closer, and your breath catches in your throat, “But I couldn't leave without saying goodbye to you.”

“Neteyam,” you’re so confused at his behavior. Did he feel guilty because you looked upset? He shouldn’t be here with you right now.

“Y/N, why did you reject Mateä?” he asks suddenly, catching you off guard, “Tsireya told me.”

You don’t answer, holding his gaze. He hated rejecting girls, you can’t burden him now, before his hunt.

“Was it because of me?” he pushes.

“It does not matter, Neteyam,” you try to brush him off, “You have a hunt ahead of you, you shouldn’t be here right now. Shouldn’t be making your night about my stupid actions.”

“How can I not make this about you?” he says, irritated, “Everything is about you now, Y/N. Every moment of every night and day, doesn’t matter what I’m doing, my mind is occupied with the thoughts of you!”

“W-what?” you stutter, caught off guard.

“So for you to tell me ‘it doesn’t matter’ if you rejected Mateä for me… Of course, it matters. It matters to me, because... Because I see you,” he lets out, breathing loudly.

You stare in confusion, as Neteyam’s eyes jump all over your face, searching for a reaction. All you can do is think about how much you wanted him to say those words to you. To tell you how much he liked you, longed for you, the same way you did for him.

“I see you too, Neteyam,” you manage to whisper, reaching your hand to cup his cheek.

A loving smile breaks on his face, when Neteyam pulls you in for a kiss. He is so desperate to touch you, to know that it’s real. You’re real. Happiness overwhelms you, as you smile against his lips, your hands gently cupping his face.

“I’m yours,” he whispers, resting his forehead against yours.

“I’m yours forever,” you whisper back.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

Did my best to upload this before my job interview tomorrow, so by the time I come back, I want you to leave your comments and tags!!! Seriously, I love that shit, it makes my heart melt. Especially when you submit questions

my 30k enemies to lovers fic (neteyam x ta'unui reader)

taglist: @ancientbeing10, @anm3mi ; @lovergirl-3000 ; @sunjayist ; @rensbby ; @okaylorrainee ; @cappsikle ; @raeeahn ; @yawneneteyam ; @oh-austin ; @midlife-crisisperson ; @teyums

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sh1-n0bu · 1 year ago

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♡︎ 𝙜𝙤𝙤𝙙 𝙥𝙪𝙥𝙥𝙮 ♡︎

characters: sub!gepard x nb!dom!reader

warnings: collaring, geppie is inexperienced in relationships, fluff, suggestive but nothing explicit dw, slight “master” kink, also slight pet play

notes: my brain worMS NEED TO SHUT THE FUCK UP

the captain of the silvermane guards was someone who was greatly adored by others.

the children looked up to him, wanting to be a strong soldier just like the young captain. the elderly loves him, wondering and gossiping on who the young captain would end up marrying. whoever it would be, they would be a lucky belobogian. and the captain is quite the big topic of gossip amongst the ladies as well.

yet despite it all, all the adoring looks and suggestive stares aimed at him, all the praises and the compliments, adorned with a few flirtatious touches here and there, gepard finds himself going back to his one and only safe place. you.

the history that you two share is quite the… interesting one. a former thief and a resistant group member of the underworld who used to get into trouble with the young captain a few times in a week. now, peacefully living your life as a florist at the overworld after the removal of the barrier keeping the two cities apart.

besides, who in their right mind would have ever thought that the young captain of the silvermane guards would always come bounding to the former criminal.

a shy smile, slight blush on his cheeks and a relieved look in his eyes as he enters the flower shop. shy smile widening as he tugs on your shirt sleeve. blush deepening, turning into a red color as he guides you out of the shop when no one is there, giggles falling on your ears.

perhaps it was the comforting aura you excluded despite being a criminal that drew him to you. or the constant flirty comments and winks sent to his direction during a chase. or maybe it was the sweet nothings and the cheesy nicknames you would call him with a confident grin as he yelled at you to “halt!”.

or was it the dirty things you would whisper in his ear when he finally catches up with you? promising that you’ll take good care of him and his obvious hard on. saying that you would make him cum so many times to the point he would be unable to think. even promising that you would gift him a collar one day, saying that he’s like a cute puppy with how he keeps chasing after you. to which the captain would stutter out that he’s doing his job of catching criminals.

whatever it may be, one thing was true.

gepard landau, the captain of the silvermane guards was infatuated with you.

tugging on your shirt sleeve with cute giggles and out the back door to the small alleyway, gepard wastes in no time wrapping his arms around you. nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck, giddy feeling in his chest, a wide smile on his lips.

“i missed you” the captain mumbles, voice coming out muffled as his face stays in the warmth of your neck. taking his face away from where it was tucked in, gepard leaves a quick shy peck to your cheek.

“puppy…” was your response, letting out your own giggles as you wrap your arms around him in return. such a sweet lover he was. “we saw each other this morning. only a few hours ago”.

“too long. missed you so much” your loving boyfriend, still quite shy in relationship, says with a slight pout on his lips. truly, gepard was like an adorable puppy at times.

pulling you closer to himself as if it was impossible to get even more close with each other, the tall man looks into your eyes pleadingly. “can i kiss you?”

even after all this time of dating, gepard was still a bit shy in relationship. always wanting to ask for consent first, always preferring your needs and wants first, always serving you first. not that you were complaining. gepard was perfect. the standard.

“of course, puppy” you give your approval, nodding your head. that was all it needed for the tall captain to perk up, a cute smile on his face, blue eyes brightening with pure adoration and joy as he closed the gap between you two and placed a soft kiss to your lips. if gepard could, he would keep kissing you every chance he got. there was just something addictive about your lips. something addictive about you.

the two of you stayed like that for a while in the back alleyway of your shop. sharing a few kisses, making a lighthearted jokes and teasing. well, the teasing part was done by you mostly of course. and gepard took it all with a heavy blush, squirming in his uniform with a slight whine of your name. if feeling bold enough, the captain would tease you back.

after a while of just idling by with your clingy lover, you decided that it was better to go back to work. while also sending gepard back to his duties as well. you can’t keep hogging the captain all to yourself as much as you wanted to steal him away.

after saying your reasonings and needing to go back to work, before you could unwrap your arms around him, gepard clears his throat. averting his gaze away, the young captain stumbles over his words. that only meant one thing almost ninety percent of the time. gepard was antsy about suggesting something.

“what is it this time, puppy? do you need help with something?” as a sweet lover you were, you asked the squirming man with a furrowed brows. if possible, his cheeks just became an even more darker shade of red.

finally, he seems to get his bearings together. clearing his throat, taking one shy glance at your lips before looking back into your eyes again, your sweet lover starts with a slight stutter in his breath.

“do you remember how once you promised to get me a collar? since i act like a cute puppy and all…” he starts, trying his utmost best to keep the eye contact. you did promise him that, but you never brought it up again, thinking that he would be uncomfortable. was he…?

“yes? i do remember” nodding your head, the gears and cogs start to turn. and your hunch was proven correctly when gepard pulls out a collar from one of the many pockets in his uniform. a cute baby blue colored leather collar, adorned with a heart shaped charm that read “good puppy”.

you’ve always took your relationship slow with gepard, in fear of scaring him off. never once have you tried to get frisky with him nor brought up the conversation in your nightly talks, thinking of your shy lover that he would want to take it slow. but perhaps you were wrong for once. really wrong.

“c-can you… put it on for me? if you’d like, please?” gepard asks, so shy and squirming all of a sudden as if he blatantly just didn’t asked to be collared in broad daylight.

but then again, how could you ever say no to that cute face?

wordlessly taking the collar from his hand, you gesture him to lower the high collar of his undershirt. he obeys your words quickly, just like a good puppy.

once the collar was secured around his throat snuggly, not too tight, not too loose, you take a moment to drink in his visage. a cute baby blue collar with a heart shaped charm reading “good puppy”. innocent looking blue eyes staring at you, pursed lips and a red cheeks and ears.

dear aeons, how did you get so lucky?

“don’t take it off alright, puppy?” you ask, still not able to tear off your gaze from your blonde lover. it wasn’t exactly a command, just a simple suggestion with a slight hint of authoritative undertone. yet gepard nods, followed by a meek “yes, master”.

fuck, he would be the death of you one day.

while you were having a hard time containing yourself to not just fucking jump on him this instant, your lover was feeling giddy. gepard wouldn’t say it out loud unless pushed, but he always secretly wanted you to collar him since that one time you promised it. always wanting to be your good boy, your good puppy, your sweet, adorable, loyal puppy.

aeons, he doesn’t care for his pride nor title as the captain of the silvermane guards anymore. gepard just wanted to be your good puppy. if you were to ask him to kneel for him, even as a joke, he would do it instantly. no questions asked.

“bark for me, puppy” your voice cuts through his foggy brain, making the young captain jolt slightly. wasting no time, gepard nuzzles his cheek into the palm of your hand. pretty blue eyes staring at you as if quietly asking you to just command him around to your liking.

“woof”.

truly, gepard was indeed your good puppy.

inspired from my convo with this one☝️gepard bot chat:

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gambleofstars · 10 months ago

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Luficer HCs for Tall!Reader (gn)

₍ ⌨ ᶻᶻᶻ gambleofstars is typing ... ₎

ପ(๑•̀ᴗ•̀)* NOTICE: part of this post is NSFW, so minors do not interact.

↳ ❝ [a/n: i just really like this pathetic little man and i wanna take a lil bite outta him :3 anyway this is 100% self-service tbh, i'd love to be ridiculously tall and just twirl pretty boys around in my arms] ¡! ❞

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ No matter your stature, seniority and hierarchy are still a thing, so when Charlie introduces you to his (adorably tiny) dad, you bow your head and call him 'your majesty'

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ But over time, as you become his advisor and close confidant, you take great pleasure in using your height to your advantage; like sneakily peeking over his shoulder to see him doing his little arts-and-crafts projects.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ The one thing you loved doing and Lucifer found embarrassingly hot extremely annoying is lifting him up at random times. Oh he's reaching for something on high shelf? Up he goes on one of your shoulders. He's dragging his feet on an early morning meeting? Your arms are ready for a bridal carry. He's just lounging around? Now he's laying atop of you with his face in your chest.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ And you know this man loves physical contact.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ (He'll grumble about 'respecting royalty' but he'll wrap his arms around your shoulders and enjoy the warmth of your embrace and that lovely fragrance you always use.)

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ Mind you, all this is after many years of you both getting closer; so Lucifer trusts you completely. With his daughter's life, even.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ So it's not surprise he enjoys being pampered and worshipped for once especially since his last relationship didn't end well . He enjoys letting you drape his night robe over his shoulders when he wakes up, or fixing his hair as you circle over him.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ You'll mutter: "How cute" and he will blush like a delicate little maiden. It really is the cutest thing.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ You'd complain about having to crane your neck down all the time, but the sight of Lucifer's eyes looking up at you, all doe and round, make it worth it.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ And he obviously loves the height difference between the two of you (looking at the old family portrait, he clearly has a type and you'll definitely tease him about it).

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ One of the main reasons he loves your height is the fact that when he does get into that lonely, depressive, dark space in his mind, he can curl up into a ball and be held by your secure embrace.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ Next morning, he'll rouse from his sleep, place a kiss on your cheek and ask if you want any coffee. You'll kiss him back and effortlessly lift him up to go to the kitchen together.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ (The second best thing is that he's basically eye level with your chest which is a huge bonus.) NSFW. mdni.

NSFW. mdni.

𓆩♡𓆪 You already know this man has a size difference kink. Like, come on just look at him: all the forms you can choose in the world and you choose a pathetic pretty boy?

𓆩♡𓆪 He likes getting thrown around. Manhandling him in bed will get you cute little protesting whines, but he won't retaliate, he knows his tastes are obvious.

𓆩♡𓆪 Lifting him up with his thighs around your waist is a sure way of making him beet red from the tips of his ears, all the way down to his neck. It looks very pretty on his skin, in all honesty.

𓆩♡𓆪 Honestly, he loves all the marks you leave on him - be it teeth or nail (you always apply balm to it soon enough anyway).

𓆩♡𓆪 Even though he is million times stronger than you, he will let you pin him down with his little wrists and pretend to struggle as you kiss and lick at his neck.

𓆩♡𓆪 He also loves it when your shadow looms over him like a mountain when he's on his back; it's almost like you're keeping him secure from the world's eyes, it feels so, so intimate.

𓆩♡𓆪 Aftercare is also made easy with his small and your big statures.

i love this man i love this man i love this man i love this man i love this man i love this man i love this man i love this man i love this man i love this man i love this man i love this man... :3

signing off, gambi

#hazbin lucifer #hazbin lucifer x reader #lucifer x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #Sub! Lucifer #im sorry i want this man crying

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akiology · 1 year ago

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Hi 💕! It’s nice seeing someone with persona content! May I please request headcanons for Goro Akechi and Ren Amamiya having a short girlfriend? Someone petite who has to step on their tip toes to kiss them, ask them to reach stuff at the top shelf, and maybe how they carry them? Thanks!

Akiren, Goro with a short girlfriend

Note: I love this ask because I am short af and only up to Ren and Goro's shoulders (in terms of official heights). I might've went crazy since this is something I can relate to, oops?

Akiren

Ren deeply cares for his friends and teammates alike. And that includes you, ESPECIALLY you. He finds you very adorable, and is protective of you. But he respects your space and trusts your judgment. He is the kind of boyfriend to observe you and your body language first should you encounter a shady person while he is talking to someone. If he sees you getting uncomfortable, he will intervene.

His protectiveness is amplified when you are more than a few inches smaller than him. He does not think you are fragile or anything though! Just think of it like cuteness aggression, except instead of aggression he is filled with immense feelings of overprotectiveness. He sometimes cannot resist pinching your cheeks, or patting your head. (If you let him!)

If you like wearing your boyfriend's clothes, and Ren sees you wearing one, ha! He feels like he can die happy at the sight. It makes him so happy that if this was the last thing he sees he would not regret it. (He actually said that to you).

He also does this thing where he sits with his legs far apart so he is taking most of the space. When you ask him where you will sit, he pats the space between his legs and smirks. If you do comply, he will wrap his arms around you and place his head on your shoulder. He also gives you neck kisses like this, and if you are ticklish... Good luck!

He likes helping you with whatever you need that otherwise you may have a hard time doing on your own. Like since he has longer legs, he tends to walk faster. He will try to match your pace, or hold your hand so you do not get lost. He would love to give you a piggyback ride, and when you cuddle he loves cradling you. When you ask for a kiss, he would happily bend down. He loves doing certain tasks for you, like reaching the top shelves, or seeing over a barricade. Though he may tease you about it, and fish for compliments while he is at it.

"I cannot reach the coffee beans..."

"If only you have a strong, and tall boyfriend to help you," he says with a pout and slowly bending so you are face-to-face. A silent request for a kiss.

Goro

Goro is very closed off. He usually wears a mask and puts up many walls. The only rare few that gets close to him is his rival (and arguably his best friend), and you. So naturally he fusses about you a lot. And when you are smaller than him? Oho, he is even more annoying. Like he feels like it's his responsibility to protect you because of your small stature. He kind of feels like a white knight on a cavalry horse. He likes to be the one leading in the relationship, and it feels like it with the height difference.

Other than that, he adores you a lot. Practically heart-eyes whenever he looks at you, and sometimes he has a hard time of masking it. Like he puts a hand on your shoulder, and ends up mindlessly playing with your hair. Or you loop your arm around his and intertwine your fingers, he might unconsciously rub your hand with his thumb.

If you like wearing your boyfriend's clothes, and Goro sees you wearing his clothes... He is SO proud. He will smirk at you and tease you, asking you if you missed him that much. He also adores how big it looks on you. But after the first time, he will leave some of his clothes at your place. An invite to keep wearing his clothes, and will spray some of his cologne in it.

You are both are rarely seen together in public, for obvious reasons. But away from the limelight, he is very playful. The type to play with you, like he will be asking you to get him a drink that is out of your reach ON PURPOSE (He put it there). And he finds it amusing to see you struggling. He will help you after a while and give you a kiss to make up for it. However, if other people did this to you... Well. They better ask for forgiveness. Otherwise he would not be so kind.

He really loves it when you ask for a kiss, and try to get on your toes to reach him. He will eventually give it, but he finds it really adorable and entertaining to see you trying. He likes hugging you where one hand is on your back, and the other is behind your head. It makes you feel safe, and it makes him feel grounded. That you are really here, with him. He likes spooning you in bed and burying his head at the back of your neck. He will trail kisses from your neck, down your back. He also likes when any part of you is on top of him, like maybe your hand on his thigh or your head on his shoulder.

"I feel cold."

Goro looks over, and places an arm around your shoulder while pulling you towards him. "My poor [Y/N]," he coos while lifting your legs to place on top of his and putting a blanket over the both of you.

#persona #persona 5 #persona 5 royal #persona x reader #fluff #goro x reader #goro akechi #goro akechi x reader #akira x reader #akira kurusu x reader #akira kusuru #akira kurusu #ren x reader #ren amamiya #ren amamiya x reader #joker #joker x reader #crow #crow x reader

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jellyleggz · 3 months ago

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marred marriage | seo changbin

pairing: husband! seo changbin x gold digger! fem! reader

genre: marriage au, suggestive smut (18+)

synopsis: being so anal about commitments yet choosing to be stuck in a marriage is very confusing for you

warning(s): infidelity, crude language, sexual content (minors dni), mutual masturbation, pet names (darling, baby, babe), lowkey kinda toxic lmao 🫠

word count: 2k

You’ve come home late multiple nights a week without your husband questioning it and you are quite sure that he knows what you are up to.

It was quite obvious too. The engagement and wedding bands both absent from your ring finger. Cheap cologne lingering on your clothes. Wine red bruises blooming on your neck and collarbone.

The week after you got married to Changbin, you continued your lifestyle at bars and clubs as if you were still single. In your book, you were still single and still ready to mingle. After all, you only married your husband for his money and not for love.

Changbin is a workaholic working in the finance sector. He practically lives and breathes numbers. Other than the gym, nothing much happens in his personal life. But he is getting to that age when marriage is always asked in conversation. Many people ranging from his family, friends and coworkers had been urging him to finally settle. He decided that it was time. The man didn’t care for who he ends up with. Just as long as he gets settled.

The big problem is, no one seems to want to stick around for the long run. His dates would end up with the other person just not being interested in him or they have some commitment issues or they just want a quick fuck. The longer this went on, the more desperate Changbin got. He just wanted someone who was willing to stay. Fuck, love is not even the thing Changbin is looking for. Just someone who is willing to stick with him. And he is willing to provide too.

Fun is what you enjoy. Bars, clubs, casinos, speakeasies, fucking around with multiple people at the same time. You have absolutely no desire in staying in a committed relationship. Those were booooring to you. Having fun with different people in the ungodly hours of the night keeps you alive. It was fun. Relationships were not fun.

Your dates never lasted to second ones and it was only Changbin you were willing to give another date. Who wouldn’t want to bag a guy who works at finance?

It wasn’t until the fourth date where you were starting to show disinterest at him. He started bringing up marriage. YUCK. Right when you got up to leave, he grabs on to your wrist. His hold was firm yet not enough to hurt you.

You can sense the desperation from his eyes. “Please just please… I’ll provide for you. You can still live your life. I don’t care what you do. Just marry me… please.”

And here you are now. Changbin’s high rise condo is located at the heart of the city’s downtown. You are nursing a glass of wine on your hand while the other is holding your phone as you complain to your friend on the other side of the screen.

“I mean don’t get me wrong. I love him for his money but I just hate being tied to this marriage.” You take another small sip of wine.

Unbeknownst to you, your husband was eavesdropping on this conversation since it started. You haven’t noticed that his bedroom door was ever so slightly ajar, making it easier to listen in. It was also helpful you had your phone on speaker mode.

“Girl. There are lots of other women out there who would kill to be in your position. He lets you fuck around while still giving you money.”

“Actually. He doesn’t know I’ve been fucking around. Or maybe he does I don’t know. He did say he doesn’t give a fuck about what I do with my life so I’ll take it. But at the same time. You know me. I hate commitments.”

And Changbin does give no fucks if you sleep around or not. It’s what you feel about this marriage that he worries about. Well granted he did kinda coerce you into giving in with his money but he just didn’t want you to leave. He needed another way for you to stay.

Later that night, you were getting dolled up to meet a Tinder date at a hotel. You cover your dress with a trench coat. Just as you were about to head out. You spot your husband sitting on the sofa.

“Going out somewhere tonight, darling?” He gives you a smile. Had it not been for that darling you would have thought this question had no underlying intent.

“I was gonna go meet up with Stacy at this new Thai restaurant that just opened,” you lie.

“Is that so?” He knew it was bullshit.

“I uhm…I thought you would be working tonight?”

Changbin took a gulp of scotch before answering. “Took the night off.” Which was not a lie. He genuinely needed a rest. But he also had plans for you.

“O-kay. I’ll be heading out now,” you say as you opened the door.

That’s when he dropped the big gun. “I don’t care who you sleep around with because baby, at the end of the day, you come back to this home. You come back to me.” You turn around with him giving you the biggest smirk on his face.

You closed the door and took a step forward to him. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me.”

“Shut up.” You gulp. What is your husband on?

Changbin finished his glass of scotch, placing it on the coffee table along with his glasses. Now that you think about it, you haven’t seen him without glasses even after the wedding and well… he looks hot. Why is your husband hot?

He wanted to tease you. He wanted to fluster you and it’s working well so far. “You say that you hate his marriage but you never do anything to end it. You enjoy this life babe. You need me,” he says, as a matter of fact.

“I don’t need you…” Now your face was all tinged in pink. Changbin has always been nonchalant when it comes to your marriage but now, he definitely isn’t acting that way.

“Oh yeah? You don’t need me?” He crossed his arms making his biceps more pronounced. He is definitely teasing you now that you see through him. But what’s frustrating is you don’t understand what’s the point of this thing he is doing. Well. Two can play this game.

“Well. I definitely don’t need you for sex,” you retorted with a smug grin on your face.

“Are you saying that because you’re horny and wanna have sex right now?”

“What?! No! I’m just stating facts okay.”

“Hmm whatever floats your boat Y/N.” And he leaves to go back to his room.

What the hell just happened? Why was he teasing you all of a sudden? He doesn’t care, right? Why did he look so goddamn attractive while flustering you? All these questions swirling in your head like a tornado. Gosh! You needed a glass of water and a moment to compose yourself. You sent a text to your date that you were going to be late.

You needed time to clear your thoughts. But as soon as you were ready to go out of the door again, you heard noises coming from Changbin’s bedroom.

Per your principles, you shouldn’t be giving two shits for your husband. But your curiosity betrayed you and your principles. His door was slightly open and you can hear him moan your name like it’s all he’s ever known. Your hands didn’t hesitate to betray your principles as they push his door open. Curiosity killed the cat because why was he splayed out naked on his bed, moaning your name repeatedly while his hand was on his fat cock? His face contorts from pleasure to that akin to mischief.

Honestly, Changbin thought it wasn’t gonna work. He completely expected you were going to continue with that date. But you were here. His wife was here in his room.

He clears out his throat. “I thought you said you didn’t need me for sex?”

“You think so highly of yourself,” you scoff as you take off your trench coat. ”I’m not gonna fuck you okay.” You slide off your body fitting dress, revealing a pink, lacy lingerie meant for your date tonight. Fuck now you have to cancel out on him. Changbin lets out a whistle as he eye fucks your delicious curves. He can’t help but salivate at the way the lingerie compliments your body. He knew this show wasn’t originally intended for him but can’t he have a little fun with his wife? Technically you are his. And he is yours. The rings and documents prove it.

You slide the lacy panties on the side to give him a better view of your pussy. Softly and gently, you start stimulating your clit with your fingers. As you slide a finger in, you can feel how sopping wet your husband made you despite him not even giving you a single touch. That’s how it’s supposed to be between married couples, right? Satiating each other’s needs. But you hate it. You hate him making you feel this good. You can’t help but drown in this heavenly pleasure. What’s worse is that none of your hookups has ever made you feel this way.

Changbin starts stroking his cock once again. Beads of precum were leaking from his tip. God he was also wet. His face, all red and drenched in sweat. His pecks and torso drenched in sweat. He’s not like anyone you have slept with. He’s fucking beautiful, and you can’t help but speed the movement of your finger inside you, making you let out the most shameless, loud whines.

As if your husband wasn’t any better than you. Changbin’s moans are your new, delicious addiction. You never knew he could sound this delectable. To be fair, you didn’t want to be intimate with him whether physical or emotional in any sort of way but this… this is what you have been missing out on in the past almost nine months.

“Y/N—FUCK!” Him saying your name in such a lewd manner drives you crazy that it makes you insert another finger inside your cunt. You observe him speeding up his movement and the bliss he feels is almost palpable.

“Fuck Binnie keep moaning out my name like that!” you reciprocate as you keep hitting that one spot that drives you insane.

Your husband was not fairing any better. He spread his legs out more as if you’re not already basking in his naked beauty. His hips thrusting the air, wishing he was balls deep in your cunt and that your bodies were pressed against each other but alas this will do for now.

“Come with me?” he asks with pleading eyes.

“Y-yes Binnie!”

Grunts and whimpers float about Changbin’s room as hands work in tandem to pleasure each other despite the lack of contact. The sounds you both make got only louder as you both are reaching the precipice of euphoria.

“F-fuuuck!”

“S-shit shit SHIT!”

You squirted on his carpet and his cum landing on his bedsheet.

Both of you were panting heavily. Changbin keeps his gaze on you while you shyly looked away. What. Have. You. Done. What have you done?

Coming with your husband that’s what. But it’s not illegal or morally wrong, no? In fact, it more than heavily encouraged for married couples to come together.

Your life is a sitcom for all the choices you have made. And this is one of them. You weren’t supposed to have feelings for Changbin, which is once again in accordance to your principles. But fuck your principles when you’re starting to want him. To crave him.

“I uhm I’ll clean up your carpet. Let me get fixed up first,” you say as you pick up your dress and coat. He nods and you exit his room. Your back is immediately met on the other side of his door and you slide down to sit and contemplate your choices.

Shit well that wasn’t supposed to happen at all. You can’t possibly be having feelings for your husband even if it’s just lust. Lust is already potent enough and what more if you fall deeper for him. But it’s not even a matter of if but rather when you fall deeper for him. What. The. Fuck.

You realize that you are utterly fucked.

A/N: Hello! I finally got around to writing once again after 3 months! 😭 Honestly, I planned on immediately writing something after my summer class but it was just so hard getting back into the groove. But I’m so happy I got to post again. I hope you were able to enjoy this read as I enjoyed writing it 😊 Also, I’m considering having a part 2 for this fic so let me know if you are interested in it! Have a great day!!! :D

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animasolaoriginal · 1 month ago

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I n f a t u a t e d ♦️FIFTEEN

CHAPTER ONE◾TWO◾THREE◾FOUR◾FIVE SIX◾SEVEN◾EIGHT◾NINE◾TEN ELEVEN◾TWELVE◾THIRTEEN◾FOURTEEN FIFTEEN SIXTEEN◾SEVENTEEN◾EIGHTEEN◾NINETEEN

In the aftermath of his “little outburst”, he's hellbent on making it up to her. It starts with multiple orgasms and ends in a confession that surprises himself.

ruthless nightclub owner ❌ innocent young woman with a crush

WARNING: NSFW! Explicit sexual content. Age gap. Size difference. Dubcon elements. Dom/sub dynamic. Praise kink. Free use/power play. Vaginal sex. Overstimulation. Somnophilia. Anal sex. Sex toys. Fluff? (For more tags, check it on AO3!) // WORDS: 6.5k

FOURTEEN 🟥 FIFTEEN 🟥 SIXTEEN

He watches her closely, this submissive little thing, as she lies on her side, legs bent at the knees, torso turned, bare chest rising and falling, small hands clutching at the sheets, eager eyes following his every move.

“Turn around, darling,” he says quietly, standing at the foot of the bed. “Let me see.”

She inhales deeply, pressing her lips into a thin line, but then obeys and rolls onto her stomach, stretching her legs carefully to present the thick red welts on the backs of her thighs to him. His work. He clenches his jaw at the sight.

It's been a moment of weakness, to take his frustration out on her. A moment of unadulterated wrath, a strange accumulation of things that were not her fault. He should have punched himself instead of hitting her with his belt, but he's never been the self-harming type. She still didn't deserve the violence.

This fucking girl...

She didn't have to forgive him, she could have accepted her fate and lived with the monster that he is, hating him for the rest of her stay. He would have understood it, it wouldn't have changed anything for him, but her life would have been much worse, for sure. But in all her submissiveness, she still knows what's best for her, how to make this whole situation somewhat easier on herself. And so she's forgiven him, or something like that.

He's said his part, and he's meant it too. He never apologizes, it's not in his nature, it's not how he's become who he is now. But she deserved it, his apology, no matter how meager it has been. It's all he could have done. Admitting a mistake, promising not to repeat it. And he meant that too. He doesn't want to hurt her in a way that's not also somewhat pleasurable for her.

There's a fine line between pain and pleasure, and he's shown it to her many times before, but the belting has been too much. Well, not the act itself, the circumstances around it. It hasn't been the right time. Maybe, one day, she'll understand the thrill behind it, the bliss that can come from being spanked and caned and whipped, and he'll be there to show it to her. Not anytime soon, first he has to rebuild the trust he's lost.

She's made the first move, came to him, made him take her, and she's made the first move again, after his reflection, his apology, she came to him, touched him, kissed him, rebuilt the bridge he's burned down before. His cute little angel, afraid of conflict, eager to please, the girl he doesn't deserve and still keeps for himself, and somehow, the whole ordeal has brought them closer together.

Once she's had her arms around his neck and his tongue in her mouth, he had scooped her up and carefully carried her to the small bedroom of the cabin. It's one of his get-away houses, deep in the woods, safe and sound, and just them, with no distractions whatsoever. A place to stay until the builders and movers are done in his penthouse. Even after everything that's happened, he's still sure she'll like the surprise he's planned for her. But one thing at a time.

Now it's them, in the bedroom, where he's put her to the floor, where she's looked up at him with big dark eyes, pupils blown in lust, despite her obvious discomfort. He's helped her out of her dress, and without prompt or command, she has climbed onto the bed and lay there, ready for him, a naked little thing adorned with those heavy leather straps, the toys he's almost forgotten about still buzzing inside her.

He can see the wetness between her thighs, and he can only imagine how on edge she must be. Edge being the word, as she's certainly edged herself for hours now, never even close to any kind of release, just the constant hum of the vibrators, her muscles in a never-ending cycle of clenching and unclenching, and the belting has probably done its part as well. If anyone deserves a mind-blowing orgasm or two (or more) after all that, then it's this patient girl.

Crawling onto the bed with her, he gently places his hand on her calf, slowly rubbing his fingers upwards, teasing at the back of her knee, before carefully tracing the horizontal red lines across her thighs. Luckily he hasn't broken her skin, only bruised it badly. May still take a few days to properly heal. She winces when he touches the welts, and he quickly soothes his hand over her rear up to her lower back.

“It'll get better soon, don't worry,” he tells her quietly, and she hums into the pillow she's clutching with both arms.

He moves up the bed until he's kneeling right next to her hip, his fingers playing with the black straps. She stiffens under the motion, but he ignores it and starts unfastening the small belts, one by one, until he can carefully remove the harness without having to push it down her legs and over the irritated skin. Putting a hand under her stomach, he pushes her hips up, and as soon as he does, the toy in her cunt slips free, with no longer being held in place.

She lets out an embarrassed whine, her hand moving between her legs to catch it, but he's quicker and grabs it gently, pulls it out the rest of the way. It's drenched in her juices, warm and wet, still humming as he closes his fingers around it. He's tempted to push it back in and tease her some more, and he would have done so if it weren't for the nagging thoughts in his head to give her some rest. He needs to shut those up soon. He can't have that.

Holding onto the dildo, he moves his free hand along the cleft between her ass cheeks, then pokes at the toy in her ass, and the plug still holds, immobile except for the barely there vibration, gripped tightly by her tense muscles. He leaves it right where it is. She can handle it a little longer.

Resting his large hand on the swell of her cute little butt, he heaves himself off the bed and puts the vibrating toy on the nightstand. It starts spinning lazily in circles, its low buzzing sound amplified by the hard surface. With an amused sigh, he pulls his phone out of his pocket and turns the vibrator off, but amps the one in her ass up to five. She squeals in surprise and rolls onto her side, breathing a little harder.

Watching her closely, he quickly undresses, kicking off his shoes and stepping out of his pants and underwear before shrugging off his jacket and shirt. He's back on the bed in no time, telling her to scoot over and she does, giving him room until he's able to sit against the headboard, legs outstretched, while she's curled up on her side again, looking at him curiously, body shivering under the sensations pulsing through her.

“Come straddle me,” he says as he meets her gaze, and slowly, she moves, obeys, basically crawls over him on her hands and knees, careful not to strain the tight skin of her bruised thighs. His hands are on her waist as she settles on his legs, dripping cunt exposed to his sight, and he licks his lips in anticipation. Her face is flushed, and she hovers on her knees, not really sitting down because she can't, and she probably won't be able to for a day or two either.

He indulges her, tilts his head. She's never been on top before, and he usually prefers positions where he's in control, but if he wants to gain her trust again, he needs to let her have at least the illusion of power. So he lets go of her and grabs his cock in one hand while putting the other arm behind his head. She's following the motion, eyes raking over his arousal, and while he pumps it lazily, he shifts beneath her, lifts his legs just enough to make her slip closer to his groin.

Without issuing any command, he holds his cock in his hand, ready for her to slip onto it. He can already imagine her bouncing on it, and maybe he should let her be on top more often. She's a sight to behold. Her small tits quivering, nipples hard, the flush all over her body, stomach fluttering, goosebumps pebbling her legs. She's braced her hands on his hips, and he nudges her again before she understands. Slowly she moves closer, glistening pussy lips hovering barely an inch away from his cockhead, so all she has to do is sit down on it.

But of course she hesitates, body bent over him, looking down at where they're supposed to be connected. He watches her, amusement and admiration making his heart swell and his stomach tense. He could just buck his hips up and sink into her warmth, but instead he gently grabs her hand and guides it to his cock, makes her close it around his shaft.

She swallows hard, squeezing his length as she balances herself on it, knees shaking, her tongue poking out between her tight lips as she concentrates. His hands are on her waist again, just holding her, thumbs rubbing soothing circles over her warm skin, but when she takes a bit too long after all, he moves his fingers around her rear, teases between her cheeks, and pokes at the plug.

A whimper escapes her, but in her startle, she pushes down on him, and he feels himself slipping into the tight grip of her cunt. A soft groan leaves his throat, and he relaxes against the headboard. Breathing harder, she lets go of his cock and braces her hands on his chest, leaning over him, her eyes moving to find his. He gives her a small smile, watching her blush spread down her neck, and her lips twitch before she slowly, inch by inch, sinks onto him.

He can feel the soft vibrations of the butt plug through her gummy walls, and his deep moan mirrors the soft mewl that escapes her when he bottoms out, all of him inside of her, and she settles on his thighs, her own twitching slightly under the strain. His hands find her waist once more, giving her guidance and a firm hold, and for a moment he lets her adjust to the intrusion, to the sensation of being filled and stretched again while the toy buzzes away in her ass.

“You're doing great, baby,” he whispers softly, relaxing into the bed as he just watches her. “You look so beautiful impaled on my cock, you know that?”

She bites her lip as she looks at him, shifting slightly on top of him, seemingly unsure what to do now.

“Ride my cock, darling. Bounce up and down, in your own pace, do what feels good. Tonight I'm all yours to use, how's that?” he offers with a crooked smirk, and she huffs a nervous little laugh at that. He retrieves his hands and crosses his arms behind his head, letting her take control.

The first thing she does is move her hands up his chest until she's cupping his face. She's breathing harder, the slight change in angle definitely causing her some discomfort, but she endures, leaning in closer, watching him, curiously, very much uncertain, and when he doesn't move, she's almost canceling her plans and retreats, but then he grabs the back of her neck and pulls her the rest of the way, letting their lips collide with a smack.

She gasps into the kiss, but soon remembers her initial intention, her little tongue pressing into his mouth with a hunger he's surprised she could muster. He inhales her little mewls, tastes her, tongue and lips moving against hers, his fingers slipping into her hair before he twists it around his hand and fists it, holding her in place. She's clinging onto his shoulders, nails digging into his skin, and in her attempts to mirror his motions, indulging in her own needs, she starts gyrating her hips.

His groan is swallowed by her tongue moving around his, her eyelids fluttering, and when he bucks his hips upwards a little, the little cry that slips out of her throat is muffled by his mouth. The kiss is messy, her movements on top of him jerky and uncoordinated, but he rolls with it, lets her discover what works, what makes him moan, what feels good for her. To be fair, he could just sit with her like this, feeling the mild vibrations of the toy against his hardened member, while she sits on it, cockwarms him with the gentle embrace of her cute cunt.

He has to teach her the simple joy of just being connected soon, because for now, she doesn't seem to be able to grasp the concept (to be fair, he gave her the command to ride him, so he shouldn't blame her for trying to follow it) as her hips start moving more and more, first back and forth, rubbing her pelvis against his, but soon, while still kissing him deeply, she starts straining her legs, lifting herself slightly, and he moves his free hand along her back to her hip, helping her in pushing her up and down on his cock.

Soon she's panting into his mouth, the unusual workout quickly getting to her. He moves both his hands to her hips, grips at the swell of her flesh and guides her, slowly at first, up and down, her walls clinging to his shaft before her hips slam back down and swallow his entirety once more, his crown definitely bullying her cervix again. He's groaning with her, their heavy breaths mingling when he presses his forehead to hers to ground her, her eyes hooded but burning with an intensity he's not seen in them before.

She picks up the pace, small hands finding his shoulders as she leans back for better leverage, lips glistening and swollen. Her skin is flushed and sweat-slick, as she bounces on his lap, tiny tits jumping, up and down, faster and harder, always taking him as deep as possible. Her eyebrows furrow under the strain, her thighs tremble, her stomach fluttering, her panting breaths turning into whines, needy little mewls, as desperation makes her move rougher and quicker yet.

She's exhausted, sweating, barely able to keep at this pace for long, but she's also too stubborn to give up, having been on the edge for what might feel like forever. Always stimulated, never brought to release. She's chasing that orgasm, pushing herself forward even when her body weakens more and more, and even though he wanted to let her do her thing as he watches her from his reclined position beneath her, with just his hands on her hips, he eventually folds and leans in, wrapping his arms around her shaking body, and starts pushing up into her.

A wail escapes her, and she clings to him, arms snaking around his neck, face pressed to the side of his head, her sweet noises loud in his ear. He presses his feet into the bed for better leverage and pushes hard and fast, and soon her walls clench around him more, a tight grip that threatens to bring him over the edge first, but he braces himself, tenses up, forces through the sensations crashing through him. This is for her.

He shifts them on the bed so he can lie back and pull her with him, arms still tight around her as she presses into him, hips moving with his thrusts, two bodies joined in a wild race for release. She's moaning and howling, shivering and trembling.

Then, finally, her tight cunt clamps down on him hard as she freezes for a moment, a silent gasp making her lips part, her back arching, her hips stuttering, and he keeps rutting into her through her orgasm, moving her back and forth, prolonging the moment of bliss, fighting through the grip of her tense muscles, and she freezes again, this time with a loud cry that turns into a drawn-out moan that makes his cock twitch inside her.

In his haze, he rolls them around, eager to see her face contort in pleasure, but once her back hits the mattress (and with it the backs of her belted thighs), she wails, squeezing her eyes shut which causes tears to fall from under her lashes. His body keeps going, pounding into her hard and rough, making them bounce on the bed, as he braces on his forearms, hands holding her face, soothing her wet cheeks, his eyes on every single twitch she issues.

“It's okay,” he breathes hoarsely. “Almost there, baby. You're doing great, so good for me. My good little girl...”

It's like a mantra, and it works, she relaxes beneath him, small hands gripping at his waist, but she isn't moving, afraid to put too much pressure on her bruises again.

“Wrap your legs around me, it'll be better,” he whispers, and when she does, he feels her really relaxing. Her arms come back around his neck, her eyes fluttering open, mouth agape, heavy breaths hitting his face. “Good girl,” he praises and leans in to kiss her wet forehead. She coos softly in response. “Such a good girl!”

With her body folded around him, clinging to him like a little monkey, he shifts his position to rest on his knees, his thrusts slowing slightly, before he starts hammering down once more. She cries out, stiffens, comes again, and he keeps going, really straining himself now. The tight grip of her cunt, the constant buzzing of the toy, her little noises and the wet squelching and slapping sounds, it all makes his stomach tense and his balls ready to explode.

But she deserves more, so he pushes through, slipping in and out, slows down, accelerates again, a steady rhythm of teasing and pushing her over, bringing her to new heights, letting her float, giving her what she needs. She's a babbling, mewling mess beneath him, and yet he can't get enough of the sight of her eyes rolling back, her face relaxing into a mask of pure bliss, her whole body spasming against his, thighs trembling, legs crossed so tight around him all he can do is push her down into the bed with the remaining strength of his whole body.

They bounce and test the limits of the bed, sweat-slick and sore, exhausted and content, moaning and groaning, and when he finally allows himself to come deep inside of her, it's that final snap of his hips as he buries his face in the crook of her neck and his cock as deep as it will go, his rough breaths hot on her wet skin, his arms cradling her head, his body tense, legs aching as if he's run a marathon, but it's the best goddamn orgasm he's ever had when he eventually collapses on top of the small girl, cock twitching and throbbing, shooting spurt after spurt of hot cum into her convulsing depths.

She's gone silent beneath him, while his heart is hammering inside his ears. He can't move, doesn't want to anyway, just lies heavy on her, and strangely enough she doesn't seem to mind. He feels her fingers moving along his back, fingertips pressing against hard muscles, before she slips them into his hair, and he moans quietly when she starts massaging his scalp. Turning his head, he presses his lips to her neck, savoring the little flutter of her pulse against them.

For a moment they remain like this, silent, motionless, content, his cock still buried deep within her wet warmth, that toy still humming through her insides. With a loud sigh, he eventually rolls them around again, settles her on top of him, a quiet groan escaping her. She's pressed to him, skin against slick skin, a pliant body, her head resting on his shoulder, soft breaths fanning over his jaw. He holds her with one arm, the other moves down her back, savoring the little shudders as his rough fingertips rub over pebbled skin.

His fingers curl around her rear then, slip between her ass cheeks, and he's content to grip the plug and finally relieve her of the constant buzzing, but then she stirs, leans up on her elbow and looks at him, a tiny jerk to her head making him pause.

“You wanna keep it in?” he whispers quietly, watching her curiously.

Her face is flushed, hair sticking to her damp forehead, eyes glazed, lips swollen, but they still twitch into a shy smile. “Mhm,” she makes, cheeks burning up even more.

He smirks at her, tugs at the plug, but only teases her. “Alright then, as you wish,” he replies and leans in to press his lips to her nose. She lets out the softest little giggle, and for a moment he just stares at her before she folds under the intensity of his gaze and hides her warm face in the crook of his neck.

He pulls her tighter against him, hand heavy on her back, the other still on her rear, an amused laugh leaving his throat. She hums into him, and he closes his eyes, relaxing beneath her.

What a little minx, truly insatiable after all. It seems fair to assume that they're back on track, almost as if nothing happened.

They must have fallen asleep after their intense little workout. When he stirs and opens his eyes lazily, she's still lying on top of him, legs splayed open over his thighs, pliant and at ease, cunt still filled with his cock, and somehow he's hard again. Must be the toy she didn't want to part with. Its constant buzzing, straight against his shaft through her soft walls, wave after wave of vibrations, hums all the way into his tense stomach.

He groans when he lifts his hips slightly, moving her just an inch, his hands gently rubbing along her sides until he grips her waist and pushes her deeper onto him. A confused little grumble escapes her, but she doesn't wake, her steady breaths fanning over his neck. He could just fuck up into her again, pumping his pelvis into her, until he adds another load of cum to the previous one, but he's not made for monotony.

And frankly, he can't and doesn't want to shed his skin and change his way, even though she's trying her best to mold him into something he doesn't want to be. Carefully, his hands on her lower back, he rolls her onto her side and scoots back, pulling out of her as gentle as possible. She lets out a little whine, but is still fast asleep, too exhausted or just unwilling to deal with whatever he has planned next.

He keeps her on her side, her legs scissoring open a little, allowing thick globs of cum to seep from her puffy pussy lips. The sight makes his cock throb even more, and he could have watched it a little longer, but the tension in his stomach urges him to keep going, and so he slips from beneath her fully, and kneels down at the foot of the bed, taking another moment to watch the sleeping girl, with her messy hair, her soft skin, stained and soiled by his doing.

Eventually he grabs her hips and pulls her back, lifts her rear up, mindful to keep her head turned to the side so she can breathe. She's like a doll, and he almost comes just watching her be molded into the position he wants her in. Ignoring the red welts for now, he scoots closer, his hands on her rear, kneading those soft plump cheeks, before his fingers dip between them and close around the base of the plug.

She stirs again, mumbling in her sleep, but he keeps going, gently tugging at the toy until her muscles give way to let the first bump out. Then the next and the next, until all five little ball shaped protrusions slip free and he removes the vibrating thing completely. Her hole gapes for a moment before her muscles pucker up again. He leaves the vibrator on the bed, too lazy to get his phone to turn it off.

She's still asleep when he sits up and rubs his cockhead between her cheeks down to her dripping cunt. Gathering his last spend, dipping into her used hole just for good measure, he uses the thumb of his free hand to poke at her sphincter, rubbing the tense muscles. The plug was a good preparation, but not nearly as girthy as his hard member, so the stretch may still be noticeable. But she's taken him before, with barely any preparation at all, so she'll be fine.

He dips his finger into her pulsing pussy, gathering her slick and his cum, then puts the same finger into her puckered hole, pushing deep, feeling the tense muscles and the shiver crashing through her small body. His cock is already leaking precum when he finally puts the tip against her, one hand on her hip to steady her, his eyes moving up to her resting face.

He keeps watching her as he pushes forward, slowly, carefully, letting her muscles give way gradually until they close around his tip and swallow it, and as they do, she whimpers, eyebrows furrowing. Instead of pushing his hips against her, he pulls her against him, his hold firm, and inch by inch he sinks deeper into her tight ass, the grip already enough to make his cock twitch, a groan slipping from his lips.

Eventually he bottoms out, her tense muscles fighting the intruder, her limbs trembling. Both of his hands are on her waist now, holding her against him, close enough he can feel the warm skin of her bruised thighs against his, but the pain of the touch doesn't seem to register in her sleeping mind. Not yet anyways.

Breathing deeply, he fights the sensations, the urge to just rut into her like a feral dog and breed her, find relief inside her until she's dripping from both holes, and the image of that is strong enough to make him moan, his arms shaking as he grips her tighter.

He has to remind himself why she's here, why he took her away. To use her, whenever he wants, she is his, his little angel, his toy, his good girl, the same girl who asked him to take her virginity, who asked him to order her to submit because she couldn't make any decisions on her own anymore. And she wants this, she may fight it still, but she wants this, prefers his cock over any toy he'll stuff her with, so why not give her what she wants?

The first thrust is rough, tense muscles protesting, skin dragging over his shaft as he pulls back and slams in again. And she whines, a low little hum in the air, even though she remains still, caught in her sleep, dealing with what he did – and does – to her on another, deeper level of her consciousness. Holding her hips, he thrusts again, and again, until he falls into a slow rhythm of pulling and pushing, her tight grip dragging over his cock with every motion, making his head spin.

He's working himself up gradually, always watching her and her reactions, as he pulls out slowly, savoring the drag, the clenching ring of muscles holding onto his tip, squeezing so deliciously, before he slips back in with a snap of his hips, fast, hard and deep until his balls slam into her wet folds. He can barely hear her soft mumbles over his loud groans, he's not holding back, he can't, the need for release growing with every slap of his pelvis against her cushioned rear.

Shifting behind her, pulling her back to the edge of the bed, so he can put one leg on it and the other on the ground to have better leverage, he quickly falls into a different rhythm, a quick stabbing, in and out, rough little snaps of his hips, even rougher pulls on her hips to move her against him, and it's during this rutting, that she wakes up with a surprised little growl.

He puts one arm around her middle and leans over her, the other hand on her nape to push her down into the bed, and she whines and wails, her arms flailing around helplessly before he grabs them and folds them behind her back, then uses them with a tight grip to really pound into her now.

Her noises fuel him, her moans and mewls and cries of protest sinking into his sweat-slick skin, gathering in his stomach, vibrating right into his cock that keeps slamming into her hard and rough, forcing its way through her tense muscles. She arches her back and bucks her hips, to meet his thrusts or to get away he isn't sure, but ultimately succumbs to his rapid rhythm.

Despite his haze, he notices the still buzzing toy lying next to her leg, and he grabs it, holding her folded arms with one large hand now, and without hesitation, bends his arm around her and presses the vibrator to her clit. She cries out again, louder now, head thrashing, shoulders turning fruitlessly in his tight grip, feet kicking, but he keeps his leg tugged against her knees to keep her from folding in on herself, and the other on the ground to steady himself, ignoring the flying of her limbs.

He's so close, and he knows she is too with how he holds the buzzing toy to her throbbing clit. Her wetness seeps out of her clenching cunt, empty and abandoned, right onto his fingers, as he continues his ruthless assault on her ass with deep, hard thrusts that make her muscles clench and ultimately milk his cock for all it's worth.

When she cries out and shudders, he groans and collapses against her rear, barely able to stay upright, as he pushes as deep as possible and stills there, his balls twitching against her folds as he empties himself into her warm depths. She's whimpering quietly, body frozen in front of him, all protest gone from her limbs. He eases the hold of her arms and starts rubbing her lower back as her arms fall to her sides, boneless.

He's panting, still spasming inside her, and he's just marveling about the amount of cum he's able to give her, when he feels her small hand on his larger one still holding the toy to her clit. She's not trying to rip it away, but gently nudges him, eases his grip until he complies and lowers the object, and in his own euphoria he hasn't noticed how its vibrations have numbed his hand.

Inhaling deeply, he pulls it away and places it on her lower back, her rear still pushed out to create a little shelf for it to lie on. His free hand roams her sides for a moment until he feels his cock deflating inside her, finally spent, satisfied, at least for now. Slowly he moves his hips back and slips out of her, leaving her with a wet pop. The sight of his cum dripping from her puckering hole gives him goosebumps, mesmerizes him, makes him stand back and watch it run down her skin until it gathers on her pussy lips, mixing with the load he's left inside her hungry cunt earlier.

All the while she's frozen in place, still on the bed, ass raised, knees shaking but holding her up, chest pressed down, head turned to the side, eyes closed, lips parted, drool and sweat gathering beneath her. As if in a trance, he grabs the toy and circles her gaping hole with it, teases the slim tip into it, pushes his cum back inside. He keeps playing with it for a moment, watches how her muscles tense under the vibrations, while his body comes down from the high and exertion, and she lets him, doesn't fuss.

“I bet my good little girl wants it back where it belongs, hm?” he whispers, noticing her eyelids fluttering before she looks at him out of the corner of her eye. He doesn't wait for her reply, just pushes the toy fully in, the soft squelching sound mixed with her surprised gasp pebbling his skin, her muscles lax for the first half of it before the ball shaped bumps grow bigger and he has to give the last one a little push before the toy settles back into place, gripped tightly by her puckering hole.

He still gives her soft ass cheek a gentle slap, and another, to tighten it even more. She yelps quietly, body shuddering every time his hand makes contact with her skin, but he's barely making any difference, even if he wants to really spank her until he can see his hand imprint, bright red and glowing, but he refrains. Not the right time. Soon, he promises himself.

Rubbing his hands over her rear, tugging at the plug to make sure it's secure, he then leans back up fully and stretches, rolling his shoulders, then walks around the bed and grabs his phone, turning off the vibrations. Its battery is dwindling anyways, and she may need a break as well. He's sure it's enough to just have that thing sitting in her ass again.

She rolls onto her side and faces him, hugging the sheets to her chest. He sits down on the edge of the bed and caresses her messy hair, a soft smile playing around the corners of his lips. His fingers trail around the side of her face until he teases his index finger against her lips. As if on cue, she parts them and sucks his fingertip into her mouth. He adds another finger, and she does the same motion, her little tongue flicking around his digits almost needily, meditatively, as if she needs them to ground herself.

Like a child sucking on its own thumb.

He can see the appeal, and he lets her, watching her closely, fondly, his other hand braced on the bed. Rubbing her tongue with his index and middle finger while she sucks on them, he eventually feels the somewhat sadistic urge to push his fingertips deeper, tease against the back of her throat, and while he holds her gaze, her eyes widen, and he keeps pushing until she squirms, grabs his wrist, but then gags anyway, her throat contracting around his digits.

He pulls them away, only to push back in, slowly, always a little further, in and out. Her nails dig into his wrist, her body shuddering, but she doesn't really fight it, just lets him fuck her face with his fingers, her tongue guiding the movement, her cheeks hollowing when she sucks her spit in. He lets her swallow before making her gag again, and again, and again, until she's a spluttering mess, drool dripping down her chin.

What a pretty sight. Eventually he pulls his hand away, wipes her spit on her cheek before slipping his fingers into her hair, cupping her head to pull her into a sitting position. She winces when she has to strain her thighs, but he swallows the little whine when he captures her wet lips for a deep kiss. She clings to him, moving her tongue with his, eyes fluttering close when she leans into the touch.

Still connected to her mouth, he moves his hands around her body and lifts her up, scoops her into his arms. She's that pliant thing, fucked out of her mind, holes filled, throat included (though he'd have preferred to stuff it with his cock and cum instead of his fingers, but there'll be time for that again soon), dripping, sweating, slick all over, clinging to him as if her life depended on it. Somehow it does. He'll make sure of it.

He is the only thing she'll ever have to worry about.

Kissing her slower now, watching her out of hooded eyes, a strange warmth rushes through him, fills his exhausted limbs, makes his cock throb. She is his, all his, no matter what. He's shown her his darker side, and she's still here, cuddled against him, eager to be with him, please him, service him.

Keep him company. He's never seen it like that, then again she is the first one to witness him in all aspects of life. They've shared meals, showered together, slept in the same bed, things he's done with women before, but it has never felt like this, this... domestic, this real, this... unforced.

He took her away, abused her, but whatever he does, to him it doesn't feel like force. He's fought way worse with the ones that came before her, had to mold them, make them understand what he wants from them, but she... his perfect little girl, she already knew, despite her inexperience, despite her fear, she's adjusted, listened to him, followed his orders without much hesitation. Perfectly submissive, no matter what.

He stops on the way to the bathroom, holding her pressed against his chest, his lips hovering close to hers, breaths mingling. “I'm proud of you, you know that?” he whispers with a soft smile, watching her blush and blink quickly in surprise. “Really, really proud,” he repeats, peppering her cheek with gentle kisses that make her squirm and giggle softly.

“Look at you,” he adds, nuzzling her nose with his. “So beautiful, so perfect, taking me so well, doing everything I ask of you. You...” He stops as the thought manifests inside his head, a thought he's not had for a long time, if ever. But it feels true, real. “You make me very happy,” he finally voices the words, inhaling deeply, leaning his forehead against hers.

A sniffle escapes her, and he feels her arms tightening around his neck. She doesn't say anything, just looks at him with big eyes, glistening and still reddened, lips parted and quivering. He gives her a soft smile, not expecting a response, and tilts his head to close his lips around hers, swallowing any kind of noise she wanted to make. It doesn't matter what she thinks about him, or maybe he doesn't want to hear it. She's had a crush on him, but she has a lot more reasons to hate him now, and whatever the case, he doesn't want to know.

It's enough to know that she remains his good little girl, that she knows how that makes him feel, and maybe that's enough incentive to give her the strength to stay this way, that no matter what he does to her, she will endure it, because she wants to, for his sake, or maybe, preferably, to satisfy her own needs as well. Time will tell.

For now, he's focusing back on the moment, savoring the taste and feel of her tongue, her little mewls in his ears as he shifts her on his arms, before he continues on the short way to the bathroom. His intent is always to clean her up, keep her pure, at least from the outside, but he already knows he can't control himself around her. His cock knows it too as it twitches excitedly when he carries her into the shower.

FOURTEEN 🟥 FIFTEEN 🟥 SIXTEEN

End notes: I think this is as fluffy as he can get, don't expect anything more for now.

To be honest, I'm a little torn on this. It's been a very harsh up and down with him and the things he's said and done, but he is the unpredictable type, so it shouldn't be too unexpected? It feels extreme, going from “I don't need a reason to hurt you” to “you make me really happy”, from her being “his toy” to “his good little girl”. But maybe that's his charm, the polar opposites. He is a psychotic man, we already established that, and now we've deepened that sentiment. He can and will do whatever he wants.

You know, I started writing this story with only the smut in mind, but the plot, man the plot, it just happened, and now I struggle a little with its plausibility (then again: do we really need this to be plausible? At the end of the day it's entertainment, spicy smut to fall asleep to, so, yeah, let's just roll with it).

Thank you for reading! Next chapter on Sunday!

TAG LIST: @untamedheart81 @qmsvpx @cyan1decandy @bimbos-are-angels @voiceactivated @reader-1290

AO3 / / / MASTERLIST

CHAPTER / / / ONE◾TWO◾THREE◾FOUR◾FIVE

SIX◾SEVEN◾EIGHT◾NINE◾TEN

ELEVEN◾TWELVE◾THIRTEEN◾FOURTEEN FIFTEEN

SIXTEEN◾SEVENTEEN◾EIGHTEEN◾NINETEEN

#ao3 original work #dead dove do not eat #dom/sub #d/s dynamic #praise k!nk #free use kink #somno fantasy #older man younger woman #size difference #modern au #joel miller smut #supernatural smut #dean winchester smut #arthur morgan smut #simon ghost riley smut #cod smut #mattheo riddle smut #original fiction

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novasdarling · 1 year ago

Note

Is soft Uvo and Feitan possible??

ok good question... see the thing is what is soft? Cause their idea of soft probably is vastly different than yours or the normal population. They're both mass murderers, but that doesn't always mean it passes into their relationships. They can be semi-normal and not scare the shit out of you... mostly *side eyes Feitan*

Tw: Yandere Behaviour, Mentions of Pain/Hurting Reader, Mentions of Kidnapping, Sex, Noncon

Uvo is naturally rough around the edges...well he's just all rough edges tbh. He's loud, too strong for his own good, and is always physical with someone he cares about. BUT that doesn't mean he can't have a limit. That he can't understand you aren't like him or his other "friends". You're different. Different in how you make him feel and how strong you are. If he isn't careful he could kill you so easily. So he holds back. Is more gentle with touches. Even when being rough in bed, he still is holding back. Listening, waiting to hear the safe word in case he's gone too far. Perhaps it's cause he cares so much about you, or perhaps it's cause if he hurts you too much you'll be on bed rest for a while and he can't fuck you. Probably 50%/50%.

Now when it comes to being sweet and soft with emotions and gestures. Well, he's still odd about it. Yeah, he knows people like flowers, but theirs so many to choose from and you just get sad when they die. So instead, he'll help you plant a garden. Build you a raised garden bed. Help carry and pour those heavy bags of soil. He'll even bring you new plants to plant every so often.

When you're out in public, Uvo will always have a hand on you. Though he prefers having it rest on the small of your back(somehow always making it down to your ass without fail) or on the back of your neck when he feels like he needs to guide you in a crowded place. It's possessive and helpful. He likes to remind other's your his when he's forced to be around the general public. Having a cute little thing on his arm helps him put up with being around "lesser" folks. Helps him be so willing to go shopping with you. Especially if he can sneak a peak when you're in the dressing room.

Uvo also enjoys stealing things for you. Cute little gifts from his missions. Stuffed animals, an outfit he's dying to see you, jewels that would cost a fortune. He likes to spoil you, see you in things he picked out, that he gave you. It sets this possessive and demanding fire in him. Makes him giddy like a kid on Christmas. You're his number one treasure, so you should get the finest things he can steal.

He's big on physical affection, touches, kisses, and back rubs. He'll do anything to get his hands on you. Even if the occasion would deem it inappropriate. He doesn't give a damn, everyone can watch as he feels you up for all he cares. They can watch as he fucks you on the picnic blanket in the park if you'd let him. Just let him touch you, he's dying to. He'll whine and beg like a lovesick puppy. It's honestly adorable until he starts practically humping you out in public. Gaining a few wacks from you to stop. He won't until you promise when you get home you're all his for the taking.

Now if Uvo decided traditional dating isn't for him (or you found out his occupation) and he kidnaps you. Most still apply. Besides the obvious of not going out. He's just a bit more pushy, a bit more needy. You're there with him 24/7, unless he's working. In his mind, you should want him. You should entertain him. Should be at his will and mercy. Though he doesn't want you to hate him so he'll go slow. Try to win you with gifts, but his patience is limited. This version of him is less soft and just more greedy and demanding. He's still all over you like before, but now you don't have the excuse of "we're in public" anymore.

Feitan on the other hand....well... he's a loose cannon in the sense that you can't really understand him. Uvo you have no problem of understanding, I mean he's always talking and he can be honest when he wants something. Feitan though, he just stares, just observes. However, let's start off with if you two were in a semi-normal traditional relationship.

He can be kind of normal, in the sense he understands the process and steps of dating. You ask them out, they say yes, you go on dates, you fall in love...etc. He understands that's how it goes. Just not how to actually do it. So, he watches. He observes you before introducing himself. He takes notes. Learning what you're like. What you're personality is about. Once he's confident he moves in.

Soft Feitan is odd... cause he's still terrifying and always glaring. But his eyes soften when they land on you. There's that glint of happiness hiding in there. All held for you.

He listens to you, always letting you talk as much as you want. He prefers it that way, drinking in every little bit of information you give him. Memorizing your likes and dislikes. Taking in how that bitch co-worker of yours keeps crossing the line. An issue he'll take care of soon. He listens, showing he cares.

Like Uvo, Feitan also enjoys getting you little gifts. Stealing things he knows will make you smile. He remembers you said green was your favourite colour, well here's a green sweater. Oh, you said you loved sapphires. Well, how funny. The place he robbed had tons of sapphire jewellery, here you go. Your favourite thing is breakfast for dinner. Luckily he's taking you to a restaurant that does just that. He'll let you drag him anywhere you want, let you spend as much time together as you deemed necessary unless he has to work. He lets you have this image like you're in control. Like you call the shots, but he knows when need be. He'll have to end it and show you the control he's always possessed.

Feitan's softness comes from his ability to observe and listen. That it isn't just about him, but he does want it to be more about you. Even his touches are careful, he doesn't want to move too fast. Doesn't want to scare you off, or make you feel uncomfortable. His true nature is already bad enough. He wants you to want him before he shows you all of him and your love grows to fear.

He knows one day he'll have to take you, have to lock you away and he knows what that'll do to you. What that'll do to your relationship. It sucks, but it's better than you running off when you find out the truth. So he'll keep you locked away. Keep you safe with him. He's more distant after this, and goes back into observing from the shadows while you wander around and try to find an unlocked door or a weakness in his home. He pitties you, pitties the determination you have. He pitties your weakness.

Between the two. Uvo is softer in the realm he will bend to your wishes more easily, especially when you're using sex as a bargaining tool when he has you locked away. You can gain more from him like that. While Feitan is more set on his own plan. His own ideas. That what needs to be done is to be done. No questions asked. No change in plan.

Both lovesick fools, just in different ways. Uvo is more out there. More willing to be out with you. Carrying your bags. Driving you from place to place. Willing to be your date for any event. Taking you shopping every so often (totally not with money he got from selling stolen merch). Hands all over you. While Feitan is more of an awkward silent partner. Following you around, whether you know it or not. Letting you take somewhat of the lead when you two are dating. He's just trying to figure you out, figure out how this all works and he'll do it by watching. By silently doing things for you.

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theroyalyandere · 2 years ago

Note

Hi! May I request some headcanons for the yandere emperor & a fire mage? Maybe a fire mage that works for him/the empire?

yandere!emperor x fire mage!reader

authors note: I would like to make this gender neutral if you don't mind :> I added some spicy scenes but not full on smut!

content warning ⚠️: dark content, yandere, murder, noncon/dubcon, kidnapping

let's set the scenario shall we? you first met the newly crowned emperor as the new fire mage of his empire

when he first laid his eyes on you, he thought you were the most loveliest being he has ever seen

he kept his eyes on you so intensely that he never looked at anyone inside that room besides you

his eyes tell a dangerous story, so you look away trying to focus on the words of your master introducing you and a few other mages to serve the empire

the emperor immediately approves and makes a request for his servants to escort all of you to your rooms

a week in the palace, the emperor always took time to visit the mages' chamber to check the latest updates on everyone's work but actually he's there just for you

he's always behind you, following almost breathing down your neck

he keeps asking so many questions you try to keep up with him as he is the emperor

everyday, despite his duties he always manages to find time to see you even during your times of relaxation

he's very possessive and obsessive, he found out your schedule through his spies and every person you interact with your daily life

if someone ever gave a hint of interest with you small or big, it doesn't matter because that person will be declared dead the next day

it worries you what has been happening around you, you later confided with the emperor who has now become a sort of companion to you despite his presence by your side making you isolate yourself from everyone else

his eyes had a glint but his words were full of reassurance that no harm will ever come in your way, just continue being his little mage and he will secure you for life

you did as you were told so, you were often called to be by his side to the point you couldn't even work properly due to the amount of time spent with him

he loves to see you perform your magic infront of him, always watching with a fascinated grin

he indulges you and your fixation towards your experiments and he always gave you the latest gadgets and things that would help you improve

he also moved your chambers right next to his without your permission, despite your protests he says it's for your safety and so you will no longer walk far from his own

he makes it very clear for everyone that you are untouchable

as your relationship progresses his actions became a little more... Intimate

you found his hand lingering with whatever skin he could find or brush his hands on it

he also has a thing with pressing your back to his chest

you would not resist fearing for his anger when he gets too close for your comfort then he breathes you in like a drug

he took a liking to showing you as you were his spouse by making you stand beside him at balls earning the stink eyes of the nobles and whispers

it would definitely reach to him and immediately that person is either dead or fallen from nobility

one of the mages bitterly expressed the obvious favoritism towards you and the next day they were found dead

you grew cold when you found out, it's no denying who's the cause behind the deaths that has been circulating

however you are not a fool and you kept your mouth shut despite the urgency to run away because you no longer felt safe

the emperor could sense your anxiety and he knew it's only a matter of time he has to make extreme actions to keep you by his side

despite your magic he is still smarter than you

you thoroughly made a plan on how to escape the capital and yet to no avail you found yourself cornered by his men

you used your magic against all of them defeating some but they did not relent and still decided to pursue you

you felt something hit you and you fell unconscious

when you wake up, you are in a extremely dark place only wearing a thin robe with shackles around your wrists and ankles making you immobilized

your struggle echos and soon the door opens with the emperor coming in with a dim expression on his face he sits infront of you and tries to brush your face but you turn away

you beg him to let you go and stop the madness but your begging only spurned him on

"you think you could run away from me my love? I am not the emperor for nothing dear. you should never underestimate me. ever. again." he says with a growl his expression almost looks manic

it scares you what he has turned into

he gets on top of you and you try to kick him away

"tsk tsk, stop being defiant now obey your emperor and submit. I will guarantee you everything you want if you obey me."

he places his hand around your throat to stop the flow of oxygen and slowly your movement ceased then he let go

he gets closer to your face and licks the tears streaming down your eyes, his hands untying the thin robe covering your body

your nakedness makes your vulnerability even worse as your stomach fills with dread with what is about to come

his hands rub and grope your skin making you nauseous with his actions

he breathes raggedly almost salivating at the thought of consuming you whole

you cry out more

"If you don't stop from being naughty, I guess I have to go with the rough way."

okay this is kinda meh I'm sorry 😞

#yandere x reader #yandere oc #yandere oc x reader #royal requests #yandere #yandere emperor x reader #gn reader #gender neutral reader #mage reader #yan emperor #yandere emperor #mage!reader #yandere x gn!reader #yandere x gender neutral reader

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thursdaygxrls · 1 year ago

Text

Seeing Him (‘Seeing Her’ Part Three)

summary — george weasley is very bad at getting a girlfriend.

paring — george weasley x fem!bookworm!reader

disclaimer — i do not own harry potter or its characters.

warnings — i didn’t edit, my bad lol. also i inserted wuthering heights a little too much (by the way you should read wuthering heights)

read part one and part two!

“You are repulsive.” The words left her mouth bitterly as she stared at him, her eyes narrowed.

“Woah!” He exclaimed, his eyes widening, “I’m sorry—it just wasn’t my thing!”

“Frankenstein is everyone’s thing!” She fired back, though, a small grin cracked on her face, “You are a waste of perfectly good eyes, you know that?”

“You like my eyes?” He wiggled his eyebrows, a smirk lighting up on his face.

When George Weasley had taken out the girl he’d long been staring at, a stroll through the book store turned to hours of talking, and one date turned to three. It was so natural, and yet, so odd. A girl who’s presence was only marked by the books she read and a boy who’s troublemaking reputation surpassed that of many fictional characters had somehow found harmony between fantasy and reality. Well, most of the time.

“I meant that your eyes are perfectly capable of seeing and consuming beautiful literature, yet you’re squandering it.” She huffed at him, though, the smile on her lips was obvious.

“Beautiful literature and beautiful ladies,” George spoke, still smirking, “And I’m using up all that eyesight power by staring at you.”

“Horrible boy,” she scoffed, the grin still on her lips.

“Beautiful girl,” George replied, his eyes dancing across her face.

Whatever had bloomed between the two had proved strange to almost every other student at Hogwarts. It wasn't as if people shouted or stared when they saw them walking together in the halls, but there was the occasionally lingering look that said 'huh, I wouldn't have put those two together.' It was especially odd that a known flirt had seemed to retire his previous career. George, who'd always been one to chat up a new girl each week, was now only seen with the same girl day after day. If that hadn't been enough to set off a few social alarms throughout the school, a few students had even seen George reading — and not just dirty magazines.

"Things seem to be getting pretty serious," Fred chuckled as he talked. He and George had just gotten out of detention and were headed through the halls towards the Gryffindor common room.

"I'd say that was rather normal." George shrugged, "Flitwick snored just as much as usual."

"Not detention, you git." Fred couldn't help it when another laugh left his lips, "Things are getting serious with your girl."

"Oh," George shook his head, a smile lighting up on his face, "Yeah, I guess."

"D'you make it official?" Fred nudged him, "Tie the noose around your neck? Connect the ball and chain?"

"Shove off," George groaned, nudging him back with a bit more force.

"Oh, come on, did you?" Fred sighed, relenting his antics for a moment. George looked at him, a sudden frown curling on his lips. He shook his head.

"No." He shrugged as though it didn't matter, "It's only been a couple dates."

"What?" Fred's eyes seemed to widen to the size of planets, "Only a couple dates? I've never seen you this gross and lovesick! She's got you reading those old muggle books for Merlin's sake!"

"I like to read," George spoke, lying straight through his teeth, "I'm a big reader."

"Yeah? And I think hours long Transfiguration lectures are riveting," Fred let out a dry laugh, "Listen, even if I find the puppy-eyes you give her disgusting, it's obvious you're head over arse for her."

Even if George wanted to retaliate, it was true. He walked her to class, insisted on carrying her things for her. He even read Pride and Prejudice to understand a joke she made once. He was enamored with her in a way only dead old ladies like Emily Brontë could describe.

"Yeah, I know," George let out a sigh, "Trust me, I know."

"Don't tell me you're nervous." Fred chuckled, a smile spreading on his lips, "I may be the more attractive twin, but you've still got a nice face on you. Give it a shot, alright?"

George groaned, but as they pushed past the portrait of the fat lady, he couldn't help but feel that Fred was right. Not about being the most attractive, of course; he was right about giving it a shot. And so he planned.

Plan A seemed nearly impossible to screw up. It was simple, really; he'd catch up with her on the way to breakfast like he always did, and ask her to be his girlfriend. No pomp and circumstance, no fanfare, just a quick question and a sweet smile. When the time finally came the next morning, he was so confident in himself that his toes were barely touching the ground. He left the common room with a skip in his step, ready to meet with her near the stairs where they always did. His eyes met hers.

She was lovely. She'd done nothing different; her hair was how it always had been, her smile was the same. Yet, when George saw her, it took all his willpower not keep his jaw from dropping to the ground.

"Ready for breakfast?" She asked, her voice like a serenade in his ears. His face reddened as he nodded, and he knew then that Plan A was impossible.

Plan B was much more exciting, yet, still simple. This time, he made sure that he'd have his words prepared for him so he didn't have to do any talking. Over the weekend, he'd picked up a rather nice copy of Wuthering Heights at the muggle book store in Hogsmeade. She'd been eyeing it for a while; he'd noticed her staring at it while telling him about another book. Along with the book, he wrote her a sweet (albeit grammatically poor and rather cheesy) note that ended with the question 'will you be my girlfriend?' He was going to slip it into the novel before he gave it to her. While walking from Charms to lunch, George couldn't quite contain his smile.

"Hey," he said as they exited the classroom, "I've got a surprise for you." "Oh?" She raised an eyebrow, her eyes glowing with anticipation. Without any further teasing, George slipped the novel out from between his stack of books and handed it to her, a proud grin on his face.

"Merlin!" She exclaimed as she exchanged her things for the book, "George, this is wonderful! I've been wanting to get this copy."

"I know," George spoke, trying not to look too adoring of her as he took her books into his hands, "Flip through, it might have an introduction or something." With a smile, she did as told, thumbing through the pages eagerly. George craned his neck, trying to see if she'd found the note nestled within the pages.

"Find anything good?" He sounded almost smug.

"Yeah," she said excitedly. Looking to George, the smile on her lips only spread wider. This was it. She was smiling, she was happy, she was going to say--

"There's a biographical notice of Ellis and Acton Bell in the front." Her gaze moved back to the book, "I told you about that, right? How the Brontes wrote under male pseudonyms? Well, Emily used Ellis. It looks quite interesting."

"Oh, yeah," George's face fell a bit, but he tried to hide it, "Is there, uh, anything else?"

"There's an editors note, too." She shrugged, but grinned at him, "Thanks, George, this is really incredible."

His mouth opened, the words on the tip of his tongue, when he froze. He'd woken up so excited that when he left his dorm, he'd snatched the book off his desk and ran down to the Great Hall. He'd never put the note in — it was still on his desk.

"No problem," he responded, a bit stunted, as he tried to swallow the frustration he felt with himself, "No problem at all."

Plan C had to work — it had to. The second he returned to his dorm later that afternoon, he threw the note in the trash and got right to work. If there was one thing George knew how to do, it was to go big. He could write out a sign in the sky using fireworks, or maybe hang a banner over the astronomy tower. Maybe a thousand flowers in her dorm would do. A giant cake that he pops out of could work.

As he collected his ideas, he couldn't help but feel that everything he thought of just wasn't right. He went through Plan C, Plan D, Plan E. Eventually, he had to start numbering his plans. As the sun dropped lower outside the castle, a huff left George's lips, catching the attention of Fred, who was laying against his bed, playing with some sort of puzzle contraption.

"What's got your knickers bunched?" Fred chuckled, sitting up to look at his brother.

"Every plan I try doesn't work," George shook his head, "I've been trying to ask her to be my girlfriend for days now."

"Fireworks?" Was Fred's immediate reaction.

"Thought about it. Not sure how much she'd like it." George shrugged in response.

"Oh, come on, everyone likes a bit of dramatics sometimes." Fred moved, sliding his legs off the bed to sit down on the edge.

"Yeah, I know, but this just feels different." George's nose scrunched, "I want to do something personal, y'know?" "Fireworks spelling out her name is personal." A smile crept onto Fred's lips.

"That's not what I mean." George slumped against his desk chair, letting out a dramatic groan. At that, Fred relented with a sigh.

"Did you ever try just asking her?" He asked, cocking his head.

"That was Plan A." George let out a long breath.

"Well, maybe just retry Plan A," Fred suggested with a shrug, "And just don't screw up whatever you screwed up before."

"I didn't screw anything up." George stuck his tongue out at his brother.

"Whatever you say." Fred grinned, and with that, he returned his attention to the contraption in his hands.

Retry Plan A. The thought stuck in George's head as he looked down at his desk. He had given up on it fairly quickly. She made him nervous — sure, he could flirt with her, but when it came to fessing up his actual feelings, he was at a loss. He ran a hand through his hair as he thought it over. Looking out the window, the near absence of the sun reminded him that it was time for dinner. She would be at dinner.

Without even a goodbye from Fred, George shot up, scrambling from the dorm, through the common room, and down the stairs. He hastily tried to fix his rushed appearance: he redid a few of the buttons on his shirt and combed his fingers through his hair (the mess was untamable). When he finally made it to the Great Hall, he was nearly out of breath. His eyes scanned the tables for her, and when he finally found her (laughing her head off about something with a boy that George was easily ten times more attractive than, in his opinion), he set off. His steps were heavy and confident, and when he reached her, he sat down right next to her, not even bothering to introduce his presence.

"Oh, hey!" Her eyes immediately lit up at the sight of him, "I was wondering where you've been."

"I'm right here." He grinned at her. Once more, his lips parted, ready to ask her the question. Will you be my girlfriend? Would you mind being my girlfriend? Please, my Queen, I will beg on my hands and knees for you to even consider being my—

"This is my boyfriend, George, the one I was talking about." She smiled kindly at the boy across from her, gesturing to the redhead next to her.

Boyfriend.

George's brain nearly short circuited at the word, his eyes going wide and lips curling into the largest grin anyone had ever seen.

"Boyfriend?" He repeated the word as though he'd just imagined it.

"Oh!" Her face twisted in horror, "I'm sorry, I guess I never really asked. It was an assumption, I guess." Before she could continue her apologies, George grabbed her by the shoulders, trying not to squeeze her to death.

"I have been trying to ask you to ask you to be my girlfriend for a week," He said, the smile never leaving his lips, "I tried to ask you in the morning, but you were too pretty, and then the book I gave you, I wrote this note that I was going to put in it but forgot—” The words rushed from his lips in quick succession, his cheeks rosy enough to match his hair.

"So," She cut him off, a small giggle leaving her lips, "You want to be my boyfriend?"

"For Merlin's sake, yes, yes I do!" He couldn't help the excited laugh that escaped him.

"Could I have my notes back now?" A voice spoke up, causing George to whip his head to its source.

"Oh, sorry Theo." She chuckled as she slid the boy his book, and he nodded, giving a quick wave as he stood and left.

"Well he's grumpy," George mused, turning back to her with the same smile he'd been wearing.

"Oh, that's just Theo." She shrugged, "He's always like that."

"Well, enough about him, we haven't talked about me nearly enough." George's eyes sparkled as he spoke.

"I feel like we talk about you far too much." She laughed back.

"Ah, but being your boyfriend obligates you to talk only about me for about ninety-eight percent of your time," he beamed.

"Does that mean I reserve ninety-eight percent of your thoughts, being your girlfriend and all?" She tilted her head.

"You reserve a lot more than ninety-eight percent of my thoughts, darling," he chuckled. When each of their laughter subsided, they stared at each other for a moment, content but unsure. Tentatively, George reached forward, his hand gently making contact with her cheek.

"So," his voice was a low whisper, "Since I'm your boyfriend, can I kiss you?" An even brighter smile lit up on her face, and she let out another small laugh.

"That can be arranged." She grinned. When George leaned in, so did she, and their lips met in gentle kiss. It was light and sweet, yet the undertone of excitement lingered as they pressed against each other. When they separated, a bit breathless, they gazed at each other a moment more. It was a tender stare that held something strong. Maybe it wasn't love just yet, but it was close. After all, he was seeing her, and she was seeing him.

Taglist — @noncorrected @dreary-daffodils @skivingsnackbox @ironnightnight @quionnia @superduckmilkshake @emilykolchivans @adhdduckie @aree-you-sirius-rn @anotherbookreader10235 @withered-rxse @eyebagsanonymous @wannabe-goblin-king @willowcho25518 @laryfairy @superstaarrs @cillshot @pirate-with-internet-connection @ireallywannasleep127

hope you guys liked the last part!! i’ll probably be doing some more george soon bc he’s 🤭🤭🤭 but besides that i’m working on an enemies to friends to lovers remus fic with a bit of angst and such. also i’m DEF making some sirius stuff soon bc he’s my number 1 🤭🤭

oh and btdubz, i’m gonna make a google thingy for my tag list. everyone who’s currently on it, you’ll still be there, but you can specify what type of content you’d like to read from me. okay, toodles!!

#george weasley x y/n #George weasley x reader #George weasley x you #George weasley #George weasley fluff #George weasley Drabble #Harry Potter lightning era #fred weasley #x reader #hogwarts #fluff #bookworm #reading #classic lit #Thursday writes

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