#okay maybe you can tell but I want to be CLEAR

[tojisteddy]

Sweet Ride | smut, 18+ MDNI, 1.2k words, softdom!Toji x sweetheart!reader

You’d been 3 months into your relationship when Toji Fushiguro finally realized that you, for some odd reason, loved letting idiots fuck you.

It must’ve been where that very minuscule masochism kink came from. Had to be.

He’d noticed the way you’d get shocked when he went to pay for— well- everything. Didn’t matter if he lost a shit ton from gambling and losing that day, didn’t matter if you went over your own set budget, didn’t matter that you didn’t ask because you didn’t want to look money hungry or if you quickly pulled out your card and paid. He’s sending $300 to you to make up for it. The man. Was going. To pay.

Toji also noticed the way you’d shy away when you realized he was actually listening to the words that came out of your mouth. Informing you that he hated that coworker of Sherl just a little bit more than you did. Plainly telling you ‘no’, he didn’t just want to see just your hair bone straight- he wanted to see your curly hair that framed your face (when you wanted to of course) and that he thought you would look good with any hair color not just the jet black. Or when you only went to make food that he liked,

“But this is what my ex-“

“—Mama, what do you really wanna eat? Tell me or we’ll both starve tonight.”

Truthfully, it irritated the fuck out of the man.

He didn’t get it, how someone so precious got treated like shit on multiple occasions. He kept reminding himself that you weren’t the problem, those fucking dick wads were.

But the irritation jumped back out when you rode him. He knew after that first time (just a week ago) that those fucking idiots didn’t know what the fuck to do with you. He’d cock his eyebrow up at you because he simply couldn’t hide the vexation of it all.

“You don’t like it Toj?” Your voice was hoarse, curls falling over your face, a pout forming.

It was clear the way you moved your hips back and forth, held yourself and didn’t use him for leverage, you rode your ex’s to get them off and nothing more.

More sins against God.

There had to be a scripture about it somewhere, “Never let thou spouse ride-ith you in cowgirl without her cumming.” Or something— the man didn’t know. He knew for a fact, only a bitch would never let a woman cum while she’s riding him.

“Toji? ‘M sorry, it must not be good.” You let out a shaky breath, trying to relax, not be too touchy. “ ‘S just harder cause you’re so… so big. ‘Nd I- fuck- mmm- don’t think I’ve ever had time to relax like this. I must be takin too long.”

Shit, you frowned, big brown puppy eyes looking down at the green eyed monster and his heart ached. He nuzzled his head in the crook of your neck, his poor pretty baby. Sweet doll, don’t you worry your little head. Your Toji would fix this little problem tonight.

And when you two were done, he’d beat the fucking breaks out of each and every single one your exes.

It would cleanse the soul.

“ ‘S okay baby, yer doin good. Need you to relax f’me. Want you to take a little bit more though, hm? You can take it, right? You’re a good girl.”

You bit your lip, nodding in agreement.

Such a good girl. Toji’s sweet ‘nd good girl.

Tojis hands pulled you closer. “How do I get ya to relax then? Can you tell me?” You felt your cheeks heat up, shaking your head and attempting to hide yourself in his neck. But Toji kept you still, playfully bumping your foreheads together with a chuckle.

“Let’s find out then,” His hands wandered, up and down your sides, then one staying at the small of your back, the other making its way to your pretty tit in his hand. Slowly massaging it in his palm. “Maybe you like it here?”

You whimpered in his mouth and Tojis scar moved upward in amusement, green eyes low. He left a trail of kiss from your cute cheeks, down to your jaw. “Or here?” Down to your neck, taking a few nibblies here and there. “Or here?”

You let out a soft moan, finally nodding your head.

“Words, mama.” He was stern but you felt the grin against your neck.

“T-there feels— feels so nice Toj.” The man hummed at your words, being sure to praise you with an array of kisses and hickeys for the world to see tomorrow on your neck.

“I-I can move now?” You asked. You felt so full with what he was giving you, but you felt so good with every little kiss the aching tip and veins of his member gave to your walls.

“Course doll.” He enterwinted your fingers, “Gotta take it nice ‘nd slow baby, don’t gotta go fast.”

You gulped, gradually lifting yourself up and down and rocking your hips back and forth, then repeating the motion. Your hands left his large ones, starting to use his shoulders as leverage, “There you go ma, there you fuckin go.”

He hissed, you were a god damn waterfall down there. Toji didn’t even know how the fuck you were still managing to keep him insider everytime you’d move up so just the tip was in, and slamming back down. When you tried to go faster a large calloused hand came down to your ass.

“B-but Tojiii,” you whined, slowly swiveling your hips one time to get a curse out of him. “Wanna make you feel good too.”

“ ‘Nd I ‘ppreciate Doll, I do. You feel so fuckin good too ma, but it’s not about me tonight, ‘s about you. Need you to really feel it deep in your pretty pussy.” He gave you a few thrusts, matching your rhythm creating the most beautiful smack smack smack your bedroom has ever heard.

“Take what you need babygirl.”

Toji had a way with words, he’d gotten a pornographic moan from it alone. Your nails dug into his shoulders, the meat of your thighs jiggling every time you came down. Slick drenching Toji’s cock, your thighs were burning but you kept moving. Chasing your high with every bounce on his fat fuck.

“Goooood girl, now you got it doll.”

“I can— I can take more Toji.” You stammered out.

“I’d loooove that sweetheart— shit ma- but not tonight. Ngh— This is just enough.”

“But—“

“-Aht,” he grumbled, helping you move your hips as you got just a tad too slow for his liking, “don’t bite more than you can chew. Come on, you can make yourself and your boyfriend cum, can’t you?”

He didn’t have to tell you twice, you were grinding and slamming yourself down what you could take as hard as ever getting a loud from Toji. You were such a good and fast leaner, the man would have to keep you. Train you to do other things, soon enough you’d be able to take all of him. You were fucking pulsing like a over worked heartbeat around him as a wave of emotions smacked you over the head, a string of fuck fuck fuck and Toji Toji Toji leaving your mouth.

The man growled, giving your ass a few harsh smacks as he rapidly thrust into you. You never knew when you were cumming so you never vocalized it.

You’d work on that too.

Quickly pulling out, spurts of his cum hit your stomach. You both were panting messes, Toji’s pink lips meeting your temple, then your soft full lips.

“Good fuckin job, mama.”

a/n: ride the dragon by fka twigs

most recent masterlist

[arc-misadventures]

Demon Sisters

Ren: Dammit!

Jaune: That noble bastard whore!

Ren: He told us to clear up a small cult! Two, three people tops! I've lost count of how many people I've killed!

Jaune: At least fifty three in total!

Ren: You're keeping count?!

Jaune: Yes. Fifty four!

Ren: Why?!

Jaune: Cause I'm going to make that fat noble prick pay a gold coin for every cultist we've killed! And, if he refuses, it'll be one punch per dead cultist!

Ren: We split the punches fifty fifty?

Jaune: Hell yeah we will!

Ren: Awesome! Let's do this!

~~~

Ren: Haa haa haa... What... Haa... What's the count?

Jaune: One... Ohh boy... One hundred, and seventy two...

Ren: One hundred, and seventy two gold coins, or one hundred, and seventy two punches... I'm not sure which one I want more!

Jaune: A hundred, and seventy gold coins, two punches if he refuses. Or, two for the hell of it!

Ren: Hell yeah!

Jaune: But, money aside... The hell is with this cult...? When they came running at us most of them were unarmed, little knives at the best, then they grabbed whatever weapons they found along the way.

Ren: I know cultist tend to be... fanatical... But, when they came running at us, I didn't get that fanatical zeal when they were charging towards us. It was more frantic if anything.

Jaune: Their screams... They didn't sound crazy, but... they sounded scared.

Ren: Yeah... They weren't running towards us, more like they were running away from something, and we just happened to be in their way.

Jaune: Hmm... We haven't seen any of the upper echelon, much less the cult leader, just the peons...

Ren: Yeah... Something feels wrong... Very wrong.

Jaune: Agreed. Stay on your guard, we're walking in blind.

Ren: Always.

~~~

Ren: Okay, seems to be leading to end of the little cult hideoooooooooout...

Ren: Oh...

Ren: Hey, Jaune, I figured out what the cultists were running from!

Jaune: Let me guess: They preformed a ritual to summon a being of unimaginable power to obtain unimaginable power in turn. However, the being they summoned didn't give them squat, and instead killed them all, and is just standing there gloating over a pile of bloody corpses waiting for a tag of foolish heroes to come by, and fight them?

Ren: Yes. But, the being they summoned was a demon.

Jaune: Typical summoned creature during a cult ritual. Shame though, I was hoping for an eldritch monster personally, I'm tired of dealing with demons.

Ren: Yeah, but uhh... There's... There's two demons instead of one.

Jaune: Peachy.

Ren: But, uhhh...?

Jaune: What's uhhh?

Ren: Well...

Jaune: What's, 'Uhhh?'

Jaune: Oh... They're, 'Uhhh.'

Ren: Uhhh... Shit...

Jaune: That's one way to say it.

: Oh? What's this? Look sister! A group of adventures are here to kill us~!

: Adventurers? Maybe we'll be able to have some fun dealing with these two than those pathetic little cultist.

Jaune: Uhh... W-We're just here to deal with the cultists.

Ren: And, we're told they're just be two cultists not... What's the final count?

Jaune: Two hundred, and thirteen.

Ren: Two hundred and thirteen cultist, and two demons wasn't in out contract!

Jaune: And, we don't get hazard pay for this either!

Ren: Since when have we ever gotten hazard pay?

Jaune: Exactly! So, we're just going to go.

Ren: See you later!

: Uh uh uh!

Ren: They've blocked the exit...

Jaune: Cue the boss music...

: The cultists didn't sacrificed enough to myself, and my sister for us to remain in the material world for a few more hours. So while we're here we would like some... Entertainment~!

Jaune: Boss music intensifies...

Ren: Alright then! Bring it!

: Ahahah~! Sheath your weapons, we're not interested in any fight. Well, I can't speak for my sister, I'm more interested in something else~!

Ren: She's looking at you.

Jaune: I can tell, Ren.

: Tell me, Sir Knight, what is your name?

Jaune: My name is Jaune Arc! Paladin of the order of the Summer Maiden!

: A paladin?!

: Of the Summer Maiden~?

Jaune: Now, I've told you my name, what are yours?

: Oh how rude of me, my name is Bleiss, Demon of the Ashen Snow. And this is my sister...

: My name is, Weiss, Demon of the Frozen Snow!

Bleiss: And, I think dear sister, we have found our... Entertainment~!

Weiss: Indeed we did sister~!

Jaune: ...

Ren: ...

Jaune: They're talking about...

Ren: They're talking about you, yes.

Jaune: Alright...

Ren: Okay, ladies! I'm going to leave, I'll leave my friend here with you. Try not to break them, Jaune.

Jaune: Should you be saying that to them about me?

Ren: Jaune, what happened to that, Greater Demon we met?

Jaune: She gave me her card?

Ren: She went away with a lim… She gave you her card?!

Jaune: Yeah, it's a summing card incase I want to...

Ren: Smash?

Jaune: Yeah...

Ren: ...

Ren: Okay, I'm going, I’ll see you later at the bar after I beat up that noble.

Jaune: Okay, see you later, Ren!

Jaune: Okay so... How do you want to do this ladies~?

Weiss: Hold on, you slept with a greater demon?

Bleiss: And she gave you a 'booty call card~?'

Jaune: Uhh... yeah...

Bleiss: Oh my, that's certainly an achievement~!

Weiss: Tell us, what was this greater demons name~?

Jaune: W-Willow the Greater Demon of the Ember Snow.

Bleiss: W-Willow the Greater Demon...?

Weiss: Of the Ember Snow...?

Jaune: Uhh... Yeah, that's the one.

Bleiss: That's our mom...

Jaune: She's you're what...?

Weiss: You fuck our mom...

Jaune: I did what?!

Bleiss: And, you got her card...?

Jaune: Seriously, Willow is your mother?

WB: ...

WB: DIBS!!!

Jaune: Whoa hey?!

[lavandulawrites]

Daffodil

Yandere!Botanist/ flower shop owner x reader

This OC is inspired by a certain Lord of the Rings character. Ten points to those who can guess who;) I have been wanting to make a softer yandere OC for a while, I hope you like Oliver<3

Synopsis: Your friend shares her concern that your other friend, the sweetest man you know, is stalking you.

Masterlist

Oliver’s (Yandere Botanist) Character Profile

Warnings: yandere, original character, soft yandere, mention of stalking, manipulation, further murder?

Word count: 1478

Oliver was a sweet man. A gentle giant some would say. He was caring, kind, gentle and loving. Oliver loved to both cook and bake, and both he excelled at. His cooking rivalled that of the greatest restaurant, and his baking was so good that it had made you weep.

This is way the words coming from your trusted friend greatly shocked you and offended you.

“He isn’t right in the head [Name]. Maybe you don’t see it because you’re blinded by his sweetness and his caring nature, but please listen to me!” your friend pleaded. Her forehead was wrinkled in frustration and her eyes frantic. “I swear I am telling the truth! He is-”

“A stalker? Really? You seriously think I would fall for that nonsense??” you interrupted her in her ranting. You found it impossible to believe that the sweet man who’s love for kittens was as adorable as a kitten itself. The man who owned a little cozy flower shop, the shop that you always found time to stop by whenever you were on your way home from work or uni. Oliver always had time to listen to your struggles and he always managed to comfort you with either tea or the best hot chocolate you could ever ask for. His sturdy, but slightly soft body perfectly fitted his personality. Though be no fool, he was as strong as a horse, that had been clear for you when he had to help and push your little stupid car that had gotten stuck in the muddy ground. He was a handsome man, with kind brown eyes with golden flecks. He had wavy dark blond hair with light brown streaks. Freckles dusted his cheeks giving him a cute appearance. He was perfect. Your parents loved him, your siblings loved him and your neighbours loved him. You thought your friends loved him too, but that didn’t seemed to be the case for her.

Her eyes narrowed as you were lost deep in thoughts. She waved her hand in front of your face, which caused you to stagger backwards. “Hello??”

You snapped out of it and your eyes found hers. The truth was, that you had started to fall for your botanist friend. You had fallen hard.

“Sorry I got distracted…” you mumbled. “But no, I don’t believe you when you say he is a stalker. Do you even have any proof?” you ask her with a raised brow. You loved her as friend, but you were wounded by her hurtful claims.

“I have seen him sneaking around your flat. We almost always stumble upon him when we are out. It doesn’t even matter what we are doing” she shook her head.

“Really? That’s it? He lives close by, so it’s not that weird that we meet him from time to time” you sigh at your friend. This wasn’t enough to ring any alarm bells. At least not for you.

“Okay, okay. Listen, I know this is not enough to repost him or anything-”

“Report him?! Are you out of your mind?!” you exclaim in disbelief. Who in their right mind would report a man as sweet as Oliver?

“Please let me finish” your friend presses her hand gently on your shoulder to stop your outburst. You nod in response with a lower head and let her continue. “All I am saying is that it’s weird. So many coincidences… I also found it weird that he was in the same women’s store. And in the makeup section too?” your friend’s voice was laced with frustration.

“At least think about it, okay? And be careful. Promise me that” she gave you a pleading look.

Your friend’s words had plagued your mind for the last couple of days. At first you, you didn’t even want to give it a thought, but the more you thought about it, the more the uncertainty crept in. You stopped in front of the cozy flower shop. Even though it was late winter, the shop had quite the few customers. Beautiful flowers in all different kinds of colours were sat in the window, tempting the by-passer to come inside. The interior was old fashioned, with dark old wooden floors and light green floral wallpaper. Paintings with different flower motifs filled the walls were plants weren’t hung up in display. The counter was of the same colour as the floor with a emerald stone countertop. An antique golden register was placed on top the counter which further made you feel like you were in a different time period. A sofa was placed between two shelves on the short far-end wall. It was an old light blue sofa who Oliver had bought from an old lady. It was at least over hundred years old.

Oliver smiled from behind the counter where a costumer just had finished paying for a bouquet of red roses. The bell rang as the women left the store with the bouquet gently placed sun her bag. Now the store was empty save from the two of you.

“Hi! Enjoying the weekend so far?” the blonde man greeted you. His friendly smile revealing the dimples which you loved. He leaned slightly on the counter like a happy puppy.

Your heart fluttered by his cute gesture. “Hi! I am. I thought I should stop by and say hello as it was in the way” you returned the smile. “How are you? Have it been a busy day so far?”

“I’m quite good. Even better now that you are here. It hasn’t been too busy, but that’s okay as I needed to finish some flower bouquets for a weeding” his freckled cheeks slightly reddened. “How are you doing?”

You blushed slightly at his words, but quickly concealed it by looking away. “I’m also doing good”. You paused for a bit. Your fingers fidgeted with the sleeve of your woollen coat. You wanted to ask him about what your friend had said, but you didn’t want to sound rude or accusing. You sharply inhaled. “There is something I wanted to ask you about. I am sure it’s just a coincidence and I don’t mean to sound rude or anything” your words fell out in a fast flurry of words.

Oliver narrowed his eyes quickly before they returned to normal. “Go on” he said in his usual tone.

You hesitated for a moment before you closed his eyes and spurted out “A friend of mine has made me aware that I often bump into you on the most random places… At first I thought nothing about it, but after giving it a good thought, I must say that I agree with her. I mean it is probably just a coincidence, but still. I don’t mean to offend you or anything, but it is kinda strange?”. You give him a sheepish smile. “I’m sorry, but it is something that has been bugging me” After you had opened your mouth, you had instantly regretted it and you wanted to slam your head as hard as you could against the green stone of the counter.

Oliver’s expression darkened slightly before he smiled his usual warm smile. “I see…” he paused for a moment, clearly in deep thought. “Well, I do love quite close to you and my shop is even closer. Plus it’s not weird to see someone you know out in public” his smile softened. “You shouldn’t think to much about. But I promise you that it’s all coincidences. I hope I haven’t frightened you. Because that’s not my intention at all” he stepped away from the counter and rounded it. Oliver’s large hands gently clasped on your shoulders. He strokes his thumbs up and down in a calming motion. His sweet beautiful brown eyes look at you with utmost adoration. “Would you like some tea, my flower?”

You nodded. “Yes please. I’m so sorry for accusing you of such. That was uncalled for” you rub your finger down your nose bridge in embarrassment and frustration.

“Don’t worry. It’s alright. I am just happy I haven’t accidentally made you uncomfortable”.

As the botanist prepared you some floral tea, your thoughts drift. How could you be so rude to your beloved friend? He was pure hearted and would never hurt a fly.

Oliver hummed as he poured you both some tea. As he hummed on Here Comes The Sun by his favourite band The Beatles, he couldn’t help the anger that flowed through his veins like ice. Your so called friend had tried to tear you apart from him. That was not something he could allow. His nails dug into the wooden table and he could feel splinters stabbing the skin underneath his short nails. Your friend would come to regret her words and that soon. But first, he would lighten your mood with your favourite tea, for such was his duty.

[sweetfcwn]

sharing a bed for the first time with george and hes trying to make you feel comfortable but hes also just teasing you nonstop

same sheets - george clarke.

this is such a cute request! thank you so much - let me know what you think!!

you’re lying there in the quiet of the room, barely able to breathe without feeling your heart skip. george is next to you, sprawled out but somehow still so close. the bed feels impossibly small, but not in a bad way. you can feel the heat of his body even though there's still a little space between you.

“you’re being awfully quiet,” george says, his voice light and teasing. you glance at him, only to find him watching you with a grin playing at the edges of his lips. you roll your eyes, trying to act like you’re unaffected.

“i’m just tired,” you mutter, but it comes out more as a confession than anything else. george raises an eyebrow, clearly not buying it.

“tired, huh?” he repeats, leaning up on one elbow. “or maybe you’re just too shy to admit that you’re nervous sharing a bed with me?”

you try to hide the blush creeping up your neck by pulling the blanket tighter around you. “i’m not nervous,” you insist, but even you can hear how unconvincing it sounds.

“uh-huh,” george says, his grin widening. “sure, sure. i can see that little twitch in your eye.” he wiggles his fingers, making you jump slightly as they hover just above your arm. “you’re practically vibrating with nervous energy.”

“i’m not!” you protest, though it’s even harder to hold your ground when he’s so close, that ridiculous grin on his face, and his fingers so close to your skin.

“okay, okay,” he says, giving you a mock-somber look, like he’s trying to act serious. “i’ll stop teasing. promise.”

you relax a little, but just as you start to feel like you’re in the clear, you feel the bed shift beside you. before you know it, george’s arm is around your waist, pulling you gently closer. “but you’re still blushing,” he whispers in your ear. “and now you’re way too close for me to ignore that.”

you stiffen, half-expecting him to tease you about it more, but instead, you feel his thumb softly rubbing circles on your arm, gentle and reassuring. “you’re cute when you blush,” he says, the teasing in his voice replaced by something softer.

“stop,” you mumble, but the smile on your face gives you away. you know exactly what he’s doing, and he knows exactly how to get under your skin in the best way possible.

“what? i’m just telling the truth,” he says innocently, but the way his fingers trace along your skin tells you that he’s enjoying this way too much. “besides, it’s cute that you’re embarrassed. i didn’t know i had this effect on you.”

“you’re ridiculous,” you mutter, but you can’t stop your lips from curving into a smile. you give up trying to pretend like it’s annoying when it’s actually just… endearing.

george’s grin softens a little, and he pulls you closer, his lips brushing against your temple. “i just like making you smile,” he admits, his voice quieter now, a little more sincere. "and if that means teasing you a bit, i’ll take the risk."

you melt into the warmth of his embrace, the teasing, the laughter—it all feels like a comfort now, like something that’s just part of the rhythm between the two of you.

“yeah, well,” you say, your voice soft but playful, “you’re doing a pretty good job of it.”

george chuckles, and you feel the vibrations in his chest. “that’s all i ever want to hear.” he tightens his hold on you just a little, and you can’t help but feel a quiet happiness settle in your chest as you close your eyes. maybe this wasn’t so bad after all.

[council-of-beetroot]

Over the past few days I keep remembering an anecdote my mom would always say when talking about appeasement prior to WWII to which she would entertainingly tell to her students which went something along the lines of this

So Hitler, you want Austria? I suppose you can have Austria, but that's all you can take.

You want Czechoslovakia? I suppose you can have that I mean Czechoslovakia is too hard to spell anyway. But don't take anything else okay?

You want Belgium? Well, we can get our waffles somewhere else... But that's the last thing you can take*

And before long Hitler invades Poland which is shocking but alright and not long after Hitler was on their doorstep and had almost all of Europe which is baffling because how could that have happened?

*Belgium was not invaded prior to 1939 but my mom is aware of this and this is just an anecdote

Anyway, I have been thinking about this since the Ukraine situation is becoming more fucked up with Trump in office. And listen, Everyone thought maybe if they just let Putin take crimea he would leave everywhere else alone. And now look where we are. And now people are saying just let him take some of Ukraine and some are saying all of Ukraine.

Do you think dictators with clear ambitions of territorial expansion just stop when you say alright I'll let you have a little, but thats it?

This strategy doesn't end wars it prolongs them.

Слава Україні

[neeeooon]

Hey Elle!!! 😚🫶May I request bllk boys (Nagi, Rin, Sae, Bachira, Shidou) with s/o who's rlly into anime, cosplay, spends all their money on figurines, merch etc and makes them go to conventions with them!!! 🤸🏼‍♀️ love your writing!

yesssss LMAO okay i had fun w thiss thank you sm for the request!!! 💛💛

when you’re an anime fan ;

bf bllk x gn!reader

nagi seishiro

-> he doesn’t like the fact that he has to share you with your dozens and dozens of anime plushies

-> “nagi! you’re crushing mr. sakamoto!!” “what’s that?” “?! please move so he can breathe :)” he decides not to fight you on this. “.. okay.”

-> though nagi doesn’t quite understand your obsession with spending money on little figures and plushies of cartoon characters, he works around it. it’s easier to spend a little time looking for a clear spot than upset you after moving something he wasn’t supposed to

-> until he comes over one day to find a large snorlax plush in his usually empty spot on your bed

-> “.. is this your way of telling me to move?” “what? no, it’s for you! your room is like a prison cell, babe. you need something to make it more personal. plus, he looks just like you!”

-> nagi doesn’t see it, but he sleeps with that damn snorlax plush every night he spends away from you <3

itoshi rin

-> “y/n? put the phone down…” “just one click, rin. one click and it’s all mine.” “y/n, so you really need twenty-six figures of the same four characters..?” “yes.” “really?” “… maybe?”

-> he manages to convince you to give him the phone so you don’t spend your entire paycheck on anime merchandise

-> he’ll stay up late watching the shows with you, and he actually follows along with and likes quite a bit of them. not enough to blow his entire paycheck, but enough

-> “i think we should be meruem and komugi from hxh for halloween.” “… but don’t they d—“ “DONT FINISH THAT SENTENCE.”

-> once you promise to stop crippling your bank account, he agrees to dress up with you <3

itoshi sae

-> bro is not impressed

-> he can’t even pretend to enjoy himself as you drag him around the merch store, grumbling about how ugly and expensive everything is

-> you ignore him and fill your little basket with mangas and posters for your room, but when it comes down to it, sae hands over his card at checkout before you have the chance

-> “?? i thought you said everything here is ugly and expensive?” “oh, it is. i don’t want you spending your money on ugly things, y/n.” you smile at his excuse and kiss his cheek

-> he’s not ecstatic at the cost of everything, but sae doesn’t complain about it to you, either. he even helps you hand your posters at home (those, he does insult)

-> “why does that guy have such big ears?” “be nice to geto!! those are his earrings.” “he looks like a weirdo.” “leave him be 😭”

bachira meguru

-> you better believe he’s feeding your addiction

-> “ooh, y/n, look at this one!! do you have this one?” “i’ve been looking everywhere for that character! how did you find it?” “my monster told me to check the back shelf..”

-> keeps a full, detailed list of every anime you mention starting or liking so he can surprise you with merch

-> “y/n, look! i made a hakura sakura keychain for you!!” “you made it?! i love it!! but what’s the occasion..?” “i just felt like making something for you ☺️” you may have teared up a bit

shidou ryusei

-> you were planning to cosplay one of your favorite anime characters, and the costume was going on sale at a convention. thankfully, shidou didn’t fight when you asked him to join you

-> “so, we’re gonna stand in this line for how long again?” “depends on how quickly they wave us through. could be a few hours.” “… let’s fucking do this.”

-> shidou has to body a few people, and you do get escorted out by security, but you get the costume! so you consider the trip a win

-> “you didn’t have to punch that guy for me,” you hum as you dab at your boyfriend’s scabbing knuckles. “he was going to push you out of the way. you wanted it more than he did, and he shouldn’t put hands on someone for a dress.” “you did, though..” “for you. not the costume… it is a cool costume, though.” “i know, right?!”

-> you post photos and videos of yourself all dressed up online, making sure to tag shidou for helping you complete your look <3

[serenityluvz]

𝗘𝗻𝗵𝘆𝗽𝗲𝗻 𝗥𝗲𝗮𝗰𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻: 𝗔𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿 𝗠𝗲𝗺𝗯𝗲𝗿 𝗗𝗼𝗲𝘀𝗻’𝘁 𝗟𝗶𝗸𝗲 𝗬𝗼𝘂

⋆𐙚₊˚ˢᵉʳᵉⁿⁱᵗʸᴸᵘᵛᶻ

Heeseung – "If they can’t respect you, they don’t respect me."

Heeseung doesn’t take drama lightly. If another member is being cold toward you, he notices immediately. He won’t cause a scene, but he will absolutely have a private conversation about it. You try to brush it off, pretending you don’t notice the way one of the members keeps giving you the cold shoulder. But Heeseung notices. He watches quietly, jaw clenching every time they dismiss you or make side comments. That night, after everyone leaves, he leans in, brushing his fingers against your cheek. "Tell me the truth," he murmurs. "Are they making you uncomfortable?" If you admit that it bothers you, he won’t let it slide. Heeseung will pull the member aside and make it clear—they don’t have to like you, but they will respect you.

Jay – "I don’t care what they think—I care about you."

Jay is mature about it. If another member doesn’t like you, he’s not going to fight over it—but that doesn’t mean he’ll tolerate any disrespect. "Jay, it’s fine," you mumble, avoiding his gaze. "Not everyone has to like me." His hand tightens around yours. "No, but they do have to respect you." Jay doesn’t let it fester. He pulls the member aside and talks it out, making it clear that he won’t stand for anyone making you feel unwelcome. And if the problem continues? He distances himself from them—because you come first.

Jake – "I just want everyone to get along…"

Jake hates conflict. He doesn’t understand why another member wouldn’t like you, and he spends way too much time trying to fix things. "Maybe if you guys just spent more time together, you’d get along!" he says optimistically. You sigh, shaking your head. "Jake, not everything can be fixed that easily." His smile falters, and for once, he looks serious. "Okay," he says softly. "Then if they can’t respect you, I’ll just keep my distance from them." Jake wants peace, but if he has to choose between them and you? You win, every time.

Sunghoon – "That’s their problem, not yours."

Sunghoon acts like he doesn’t care, but deep down? He’s fuming. He won’t start a fight, but he will start being colder toward the member who disrespects you. "Sunghoon, I don’t want to cause problems between you guys," you whisper. He scoffs, pulling you onto his lap. "They’re the ones causing problems, not you," he mutters, pressing a kiss to your temple. "If they don’t like you, that’s their loss." From that moment on, Sunghoon makes it very clear whose side he’s on. If that member is around, he keeps his arm around you, always making subtle digs to remind them exactly who you belong to.

Sunoo – "Do they think I care?"

Sunoo is petty. If a member doesn’t like you, he doesn’t like them either. He won’t even hide it—he’ll throw shade, make sarcastic comments, and be extra affectionate with you just to piss them off. You hesitate before telling Sunoo about the tension, not wanting to start drama. But the moment you do? He laughs. "Oh, they don’t like you?" he says, smirking. "Guess what? I don’t like them." From then on, Sunoo is extra clingy in front of them, making sure they know exactly where he stands. And if they dare make a rude comment? Oh, he’s firing back, no hesitation.

Jungwon – "I’ll handle it."

Jungwon is mature about it, but intimidating when necessary. He won’t let it turn into drama, but if a member is making you uncomfortable? He will deal with it. He listens carefully as you explain the situation, his expression unreadable. "I’ll talk to them," he says simply. And he does. The next time they see each other, Jungwon takes them aside and speaks in a low, firm voice. You don’t know what he says, but after that? The member suddenly starts treating you with a lot more respect.

Ni-ki – "Tch. Like I care."

Ni-ki is young, but he’s also incredibly loyal. If another member doesn’t like you, he immediately dislikes them. "They don’t like you?" he scoffs, pulling you closer. "Whatever. I don’t need their approval." Ni-ki won’t go out of his way to start problems, but he will go out of his way to ignore them completely. If they try to talk to him, he just stares. If they joke around, he doesn’t laugh. And if they ever try to disrespect you again? Oh, they’re done.

[enchantresss97]

Dark Gravity -Part Two

Characters: Au!Eric Draven (Bill Skarsgård) x reader

Description: This is a Au!Eric Draven, no Shelly involved(although is another girl, no, is not the girl from this chapter, it's more darker than this), no Roeg and no powers, other than that is still the Eric we know. He is powerful, dangerous, and infamous for his violent reputation, he’s someone people know to stay away from. A man whose name strikes fear in the hearts of many. His presence is commanding, intimidating. He’s not the type to open up, but when he locks eyes with you, there’s an undeniable tension that pulses in the air between you two. It’s hard to ignore the way he looks at you, the subtle flirting, and the dangerous charm that seems to surround him. You never imagined to meet him, but here you are, caught in a web of questions. Where will this lead? Can there be something more between you two? Will you end up friends, or is there something darker, more complicated in store? You can’t deny the tension, the attraction, it’s palpable. Could something truly happen between you and him? Only time will tell, but you can’t help but wonder: where will this take you?

Warning: (the warnings are for the whole story, not just this chapter) language, angst, drugs, alcohol, blood, guns, sex (at this point you know me), cheating.

Word count: 5428 (it's a lot, I know, but I still hope you'll like it)

Dark Gravity - Part Two

Before you could even think about putting the phone down, a call came through.

Lily’s name flashed across the screen. You hesitated for a moment, then swiped to answer.

“Where are you? Why did you leave so early?” Lily’s voice sounded a little breathless, maybe from laughing, or maybe from… something else.

The background noise was distant, but there was a familiar voice, low and rough, laughing in the distance.

“I just—whatever. You were in the room with Mark, and it was late. I didn’t want to bother anyone, so I left.” You spoke casually, brushing it off like it hadn’t been a big deal.

“Okay, okay…” Lily paused for a second, and the laughter in the background grew louder. “So, can you come over now? We moved the action to my place.”

The sound of someone yelling something funny drifted through the phone, and you caught a quick, indistinct shout, maybe from Eric. “Are you serious?” you asked, your brow furrowing. “I thought you were done for the night.”

“Yeah, well, I guess we’re not,” Lily said, barely containing a laugh herself. “Come he...” The unmistakable voice of Eric cut in then, loud and clear, snatching the phone away from Lily.

“You’re coming, right? I waited for you after you just ran off. You said you'll be back soon” he said, his voice warm, teasing, and energetic.

He sounded… different, more relaxed than the last time you had seen him. Like he was actually enjoying himself. You could practically hear his grin on the other side of the line. “Don’t leave me hanging, huh?”

The playful tone caught you off guard. He was in a good mood, too good. It made you smile, but you didn’t let it show. “Fine,” you said, feigning annoyance. “I’ll come. Just stop yelling at me through the phone.”

“Good. I’ll be waiting,” he replied, the laughter in his voice cutting through the air. Then, without waiting for another word, the call ended.

You stared at the phone for a moment, the screen fading to black as your thumb hovered over the end call button. You glanced at the clock on the wall. It was late, you thought the party was over by now.

Lily’s place was only two streets away.

You stepped inside, the familiar creak of the door closing behind you. The hallway stretched ahead, spacious and open, with a few steps leading up to another part of the apartment. Against the wall sat a couch, where the girl from last night was lazily sprawled out, her head resting against the back, half-watching the scene in front of her.

And in the middle of it all was Eric.

He’s standing in the hallway, shirtless from the night before, his movements loose and carefree as he sways to the music.

He’s dancing, lost in his own world, and as he turns, you catch sight of his back. You’ve never seen his back before, last night he was sitting on the couch facing you. This is the first time you’ve seen it, and it’s striking.

The tattoos on his skin are vast, dark, and intricate, spreading across his back like a canvas.

You’re drawn to them instantly. There’s a large tattoo with bold lines running across his back, resembling barbed wire.

The design stretches from one shoulder to the other, its sharp, jagged edges curving around his muscles, giving it a menacing yet strangely captivating look.

You’re taken by surprise, wondering what the significance is behind that.

Between the barbed wire and the top of his shoulder, another series of tattoos catches your eye, five, six lines? Maybe seven of intricate script.

The lines vary in length, each one wrapping slightly around his body in a way that makes it hard to focus on just one. The words are too hard to read from this angle, but you can tell it’s a message of some kind.

You can’t help but wonder what it says, but you don’t have the chance to study it for long before Eric spins around and looks up, his eyes locking with yours for a brief, electric moment.

At the top of his shoulder, near the neck, you see the faint outline of another tattoo—a name, but you can’t quite make it out. It’s too blurred, hidden under his muscles, but it’s definitely there.

A name that seems to hold some kind of weight, something meaningful.

You’re struck by how much his tattoos seem to tell a story, but you’re left with more questions than answers.

He keep dancing, the bottle of vodka in one hand, a shot glass in the other. The music blasted from the living room, but he didn’t seem to care that he was the only one really moving to it. His head tilted back slightly as he laughed at something, his body loose with drunken energy. The smirk on his face was effortless, sharp, and when his gaze landed on you, it widened.

“Hey, look who finally made it,” Eric said, his voice rough, raspier than you’d remembered from the phone call. His eyes were slightly unfocused but sharp all the same, pinning you where you stood. “You good?”

You didn’t answer, just started toward the living room where Lily had called for you. But before you could get past him, Eric moved, stepping right in front of you, blocking your way.

“Whoa, whoa, hold up,” he grinned, holding up the shot glass. “Drink with me.”

You shook your head. “I’m not drinking.”

“Come on,” he pressed, his voice smooth, teasing. “Just one. It won’t kill you.”

You shifted to the left, he moved with you. You tried right, he did the same. It was deliberate, playful, and his smirk only deepened as he kept you trapped in front of him.

“Eric,” you muttered, tilting your head up to look at him.

“Hmm?” His eyes flicked down to yours, then lower, to your lips.

Up close, he smelled like vodka and cigarettes, his skin warm from the alcohol. His pupils were slightly blown, his green eyes rimmed with red, and when you noticed, the words slipped from your mouth before you could stop them. “Why are your eyes so red?”

Eric’s smirk twitched wider. He leaned in slightly, mimicking your voice in a mocking lilt, “‘Why are your eyes so red?’”

Your lips parted, taken aback by the teasing, but he only grinned. “Because I haven’t slept in a few days,” he answered smoothly, voice lower, rougher.

You stared at him, something unreadable passing between you both.

Then his smirk shifted into something slower, more deliberate. “And what about you?” His voice dropped an octave, his head tilting just slightly. “You look like you haven’t been getting much rest either.”

The implication in his tone was clear. The way he looked at you, his gaze flicking to your lips again, then back to your eyes made your pulse pick up.

You scoffed, a small smirk tugging at your lips. “You sound worse than you look,” you shot back.

Eric let out a low, amused chuckle. “Oh yeah?” His voice was gravelly, almost like it hurt to speak, but it only made him sound even more enticing. “And what do I sound like?”

You tilted your head, holding his gaze, playing along. “Like you screamed all night.”

Eric laughed, slow and full of meaning. He licked his lips, his voice deepening as he leaned in just a little more. “Maybe I did.”

The space between you felt charged, every inch of the air crackling with tension. He still hadn’t moved out of your way.

Instead, Eric lifted the shot glass, offering it to you again, his eyes dark with challenge. “Last chance.”

You didn’t take it.

So he took the shot himself, tilting his head back, throat working as he swallowed. Then, when he lowered the glass, he ran his tongue over his lips, smirking as he wiped a thumb across them.

“Alright,” he murmured, stepping aside at last but not before leaning in one last time. His lips brushed your ear as he whispered, “You’ll drink with me eventually.”

And just like that, he was gone, moving back toward the music, leaving you standing there.

Lily didn’t waste time. The moment you stepped into the living room, she grabbed your wrist.

“Come with me for a sec,” she murmured, her voice light but curious.

She led you to her bedroom, her energy still playful, but you could tell she had something on her mind. When she turned to face you, her expression softened, not accusatory, just… observant.

“So,” she started, tilting her head, a slow smile forming. “What’s going on with you and Eric?”

You let out a small laugh. “Nothing’s going on.”

Lily raised a brow. “Really? Because I saw you two in the hallway.”

You shook your head, leaning against the wall. “It’s not like that. He was just messing around. You know how he is.”

Lily hummed, considering your words. She glanced back toward the living room before looking at you again, this time with a little more seriousness behind her tipsy gaze.

“I know he’s Mike’s friend,” she said. “And yeah, we hang out, we laugh, we talk. He’s nice to me, I’m nice to him. But that’s it. We don’t get too close.” She paused. “You know what I mean, right?”

You nodded. “Of course.”

“I just…” Lily sighed, running a hand through her hair. “I just want to make sure you’re not, like… getting pulled in, or something.”

You smiled at her concern, bumping your shoulder lightly against hers. “I know who he is, Lily. I’m not crossing any lines.”

She studied you for a second longer, then exhaled, nodding. “Okay.” Her usual playful smirk returned. “I mean, hey, he’s hot, but he’s still Eric.”

You laughed, and just like that, the tension melted. Lily wasn’t there to lecture you, she just wanted to check in. And you appreciated that.

“By the way,” you said, tilting your head. “His voice is so raspy tonight. And his eyes…”

Lily let out a knowing chuckle. “Yeah, because he’s been drinking since last night. And after you left?” She gave you a pointed look. “He did some coke.”

That explained a lot.

_____________________________

When you returned to the living room, the energy was still wild. Music blasted from the speakers, the air heavier with smoke and alcohol.

Eric was still in that same carefree, intoxicated state, laughing, drinking, riding the high that hadn’t worn off yet.

You stood near the couch, talking with Lily and Mark, your body angled slightly away from the center of the room. You weren’t avoiding him, but you weren’t seeking him out either. Still, you felt it before it happened, the shift in attention, the way the air changed as he moved toward you.

And then he was there.

His body brushed against yours as he slid in beside you, closer than necessary, his scent a mix of vodka, weed, and something distinctly him.

“You’re just standing here?” he teased, voice low, raspy. His lips were close to your ear, his breath warm. “Not even trying to have fun?”

You turned your head slightly, catching the smirk on his face. His eyes were still red, his pupils dark, his energy loose, fluid, free.

“I am having fun,” you said, tilting your head. “Just in my own way.”

He scoffed, taking a slow sip from his drink. “Yeah? And what’s that way?”

You smiled, but before you could answer, he stepped in front of you, invading your space in that effortless way of his. His hands, still holding his drink, gestured toward the music.

“Come dance.” You shook your head, amused. “I don’t dance.”

He grinned, taking a step closer, so close you could feel the heat of his body. “Liar.”

You rolled your eyes, still not moving, but you weren’t pushing him away either.

His smirk deepened. “You danced with me in the hallway.”

“That wasn’t dancing,” you corrected.

He raised a brow. “It wasn’t?” His voice dropped lower. “Then what was it?”

You felt the way his eyes dropped to your lips briefly, but still. The weight of it, the unspoken challenge, sent something sharp through you.

Before you could answer, a movement caught your eye, the girl from earlier. She was still on the couch, pretending not to watch, her posture relaxed but her expression tense.

You looked back at him. “Shouldn’t you be dancing with your girlfriend?”

Eric let out a quiet laugh, shaking his head. “She’s not my girlfriend.”

“No?” You raised a brow.

He leaned in slightly. “We just fucked.”

Your lips parted slightly, heat creeping up your neck, but you refused to let him have the upper hand.

“Well,” you said, voice smooth, teasing. “Then why don’t you go fuck her again?”

His smirk widened, his tongue running over his teeth as he took another sip of his drink. “Because right now…” He tilted his head, eyes dark, heavy-lidded. “I’m having more fun here.”

And that...that lingering look, that undeniable energy between you—was what made the girl finally get up and come toward you.

You noticed her the moment she moved, her strides controlled, her expression neutral but her presence unmistakable. She stopped just beside Eric, close enough to make a statement, her eyes flickering between the two of you before settling on him.

“Eric,” she said smoothly, her voice soft but pointed. “Come sit with me.”

Eric didn’t turn to her right away. He was still looking at you, the smirk on his lips not fading, his body still angled toward yours. Only after a beat did he glance at her, his expression unreadable, his energy lazy, unbothered.

“You’ve been sitting all night,” he said, his voice casual, slow.

“You dance?” she asked, her voice smooth.

Eric smirked, tipping his head slightly. “You do?”

She smiled, slow and confident. “Yeah.”

“Alright, then.” He stepped back, extending a hand lazily. She took it, and they started moving, if you could even call it dancing. Eric was too loose, too lazy with his movements, more amused than serious.

The girl, on the other hand, tried to make something of it, her hands on his shoulders, her body pressing closer, but he didn’t fully match her energy.

He was grinning, laughing under his breath, not taking any of it seriously. But it didn’t matter. Because despite the lack of rhythm, despite how unserious it was, there was something else there.

The way her hands trailed down his chest, the way she leaned in when she whispered something against his ear. The way he let her...

And just like that, the shift became obvious. Her hands tightened slightly on him.

Eric, still grinning, leaned down a little as she murmured something to him. You couldn’t hear what it was, but you didn’t need to. The way she said it, the way she looked at him was clear enough.

His response was just as telling. The smirk that grew, the way his fingers ghosted over her waist.

And then, just like that, she took his hand and started leading him out of the room.

Eric glanced at you for a brief second before following her.

He didn’t say a word. Didn’t need to, it was obvious where they were going.

And only later, when someone muttered her name in passing, did you finally put a name to the girl.

Cassie.

After what felt like an eternity, Eric and Cassie returned to the living room, looking as carefree as they had when they left, though something about their energy was unmistakable.

The room was buzzing with laughter and conversation, but the moment they entered, Mark raised an eyebrow. “Quick work, man.”

Eric smirked, brushing it off like it was nothing. “C’mon, Mark. A guy’s gotta do what a guy’s gotta do.”

Lily chuckled nervously beside you, a small, embarrassed smile on her lips. “Guess you were busy.”

You didn’t know how to feel, but you tried to act normal, forcing a casual smile. You didn’t want to pay too much attention, but Mark kept teasing, “So, what was it like, huh? Quick and dirty?”

Eric didn’t flinch. He merely shrugged and cracked his neck. “Yeah, quick.”

With that, he gave Mark a quick, dismissive glance and moved toward you.

Ignoring the chatter around you, Eric sat down beside you on the couch, the air between you thick with an undeniable tension.

He didn’t waste time leaning in a little, his voice low.

“So… what do you think?” he asked, his voice was raspy, not from the drink but from something else, something heavier. The question lingering in the air, a mischievous gleam in his eyes.

You glanced at him, trying to keep your composure. “What do you mean?”

He didn’t pull back, his presence even more imposing now, waiting for your answer.

“You just fucked her, right?”

Eric chuckled softly, the sound almost condescending.

“That’s one way to put it. But it’s more than just that.” His hand brushed against yours casually, but the contact felt intentional.

“When you’re high, it’s not about just the moment. It’s about… getting it all out, you have to much energy”

You could feel his gaze on you, so intense it was almost suffocating.

He leaned in closer, his lips almost brushing your ear. “Cocaine makes everything better,” he continued, his voice low, almost a whisper.

“Makes everything feel… different. You wouldn’t get it, but you could. If you wanted to.”

You felt a rush of heat, and though you tried to maintain control, there was something magnetic about him, the way he spoke, the confidence he oozed.

“So, you fuck to get rid of the high?” you asked, trying to keep it casual, but your voice betrayed you, shaking just slightly.

Eric smiled, his lips curving into that signature smirk. “Exactly. It’s not shameful, it’s just what I do to stay on top. You want to know the truth? It’s not just about her. It’s the high, the thrill, the release. And right now, it’s all I need.”

He leaned in even closer, his breath hot against your skin, the tension between you growing by the second.

There was no mistaking what was in the air between you. “You know what else cocaine does to me?” he whispered, his voice thick with lust.

“Makes me hard, keeps me going. I fuck until I can’t anymore.”

His words sank into you, heavy, intoxicating. The rawness of his words hit you harder than you expected, leaving you with a mixture of shock, intrigue, and undeniable attraction.

You weren’t sure if it was the way he said it, the low rasp of his voice, or the lazy confidence in his expression, but something in you tightened. You could feel the heat of him beside you, the space between you shrinking, even though neither of you moved.

Eric didn’t care about boundaries or filters, and it was this unapologetic, dangerous energy that made you want to stay close—too close.

You fought to keep yourself steady, but the pull between you was undeniable.

He tilted his head slightly, watching you, a smirk playing at his lips. “You’re quiet.”

Your throat was dry. “I don’t know what to say to that.”

Eric chuckled, leaning in just enough that you could feel his breath against your cheek. “Maybe you don’t have to say anything.”

The weight of his stare pressed against your skin, and for a split second, you wondered what would happen if you didn’t move, if you let this tension pull you in deeper.

But before either of you could go further, Mark’s voice cut through the moment like a blade. “Yo, Eric, quit whispering sweet nothings over there. We’re all still here, man.”

Laughter erupted from the group. Eric didn’t move right away. His eyes lingered on you for just a second longer before he leaned back, stretching his arms over the couch like nothing had happened.

“Relax, Mark,” he drawled, flashing a lazy grin. “Just making conversation.”

You let out a slow breath, your pulse still unsteady. And just like that, the moment was gone.

Now, he’s with Mark and Lucas, laughing, drinking, like nothing happened. Like he hadn’t just fed you something you could still taste. You exhale, shifting slightly, trying to push it aside. But it lingers, settling under your skin, refusing to leave.

You stay on the couch, still, but your mind won’t settle.

Cocaine makes everything better. Makes everything feel… different. Makes me hard, keeps me going. I fuck until I can’t anymore.

The words linger, heavy in the air, thick with something you don’t want to name. It wasn’t just what he said, it was how he said it.

That lazy confidence, the way his voice dipped lower, like he knew exactly what he was doing to you.

Eric’s phone buzzes in his pocket. He pulls it out, glances at the screen, and without a word, steps away into another room.

You watch him disappear behind the door, catching only a glimpse of him through the narrow gap.

He stands with his back to the wall, one hand gripping his phone, the other running over his face as he listens. His voice is low, sharp, controlled.

You can’t make out the words, but there’s something in the way he speaks. Firm, decisive, like he’s already planning his next move.

When he returns, it’s like nothing happened.

He slides his phone back into his pocket, stepping right back into the group.

A smirk, a casual comment, laughter, perfectly smooth. But there’s an edge to him now, something restless beneath the surface.

He shifts closer to Mark and Lucas, speaking just under his breath.

The conversation is quick, coded. Mark nods slightly. Lucas mutters something back. Whatever Eric says next makes them both straighten just a little. Then, as if nothing happened, they break apart, acting like everything is the same.

But you know it’s not. Something just changed.

The casual smile returned to his face, but something was off.

It was subtle, a tension still hanging in the air, like a storm waiting to break.

Lily, sensing the shift, turned to Mark, her voice pleading. “But don’t go, Mark. Please, stay a little longer. Just a bit more.”

Mark hesitated, glancing at Eric and the others before nodding.

But Lily wasn’t finished. She moved toward Eric, her voice soft. “Come on, Eric. Please, stay a bit longer.”

Eric hesitated for a moment, his eyes flicking between her and the rest of the group. He seemed to weigh the options before finally offering a smirk. “You know what? You can come with us. We’ve got some things to do around town. We’ll stop somewhere, like a restaurant or something, and you can hang out while we take care of business. We’ll come back to you later.”

His offer felt casual enough, but there was something about the way he said it, something that made it clear it wasn’t just an ordinary night out.

Mark and Lucas exchanged a quick, almost imperceptible look, their faces unreadable as if they already knew the real plan.

The group gathered their jackets getting ready to leave. But not Eric, he remains shirtless.

By the time they stepped out into the cool evening air, the night had fully settled in. It was one of those summer nights, where the heat of the day lingered in the breeze, carrying with it a kind of humid warmth that made the skin feel alive.

The stars above twinkled softly, peeking out from behind the veil of the city’s distant lights, and the night felt vast and endless, a kind of beauty that whispered of something unspoken.

They walked casually down the street, the rhythmic steps of Mark and Lily ahead, hand in hand, a quiet, content energy between them. Behind them were Eric, Cassie, Lucas, and you, all of you moving in sync, the air filled with the sound of laughter, teasing jokes, and lighthearted conversation. For a while, everything felt easy, the kind of atmosphere that comes with familiarity.

Without a word, Eric moved up beside you, his hand settling over your shoulder in a gesture that felt unexpectedly possessive. He didn’t pull you in too close, but his touch was enough to send a thrill down your spine, his fingers lightly resting on your skin as the group kept walking.

You could feel the heat of his body beside yours, his presence radiating through you as he grinned down at you.

The laughter from the others faded into the background as Eric’s gaze caught yours.

He was smiling, but there was something different in his eyes—something that made you tense up and relax all at once.

“How’s it feel?” he asked, his voice low, playful, yet with an edge of something deeper.

The words hung in the air between you two, and for a moment, it felt like the rest of the world had faded away, leaving just the two of you in that space.

His grip on your shoulder tightened slightly as he watched you, waiting for your response.

You glanced up at him, feeling the warmth of his hand against your skin, the weight of his gaze lingering on you. His question was vague, teasing, laced with something unspoken.

“How’s what feel?” you asked, matching his tone, though your voice came out softer than you intended.

Eric’s lips twitched, amusement flickering in his green eyes.

“Careful,” he said after a moment, voice low enough that only you could hear. You glanced back at him, brow arching.

“Of what?” Eric smiled, slow and knowing.

“Of how much you like this.” Before you could respond, before you could even process the way your stomach twisted at his words, his phone buzzed in his pocket. His expression didn’t change, but his hand was already reaching for it.

He barely glanced at the screen before his features hardened, amusement fading.

For a moment, you saw it, the shift. That effortless coolness cracking just slightly, just enough for you to know that whatever was on the other end of that phone call wasn’t something lighthearted.

He answered without hesitation, slowing his pace, his voice dropping into something unreadable. “Yeah?”

You kept walking, but you couldn’t stop yourself from glancing back. His face was unreadable, his posture still relaxed, but there was a sharpness in his eyes now, a tension that hadn’t been there a second ago.

He veered slightly away from the group, just enough to put space between himself and everyone else as he continued the conversation.

You couldn’t hear much, just a few low words, too quiet to make out but the way he carried himself told you everything.

Something was happening. And whatever it was, it wasn’t good.

The moment before the call ended, something shifted. It was in Eric’s eyes, the kind of change you don’t need words to understand.

A flicker of something cold, sharp, cutting through the ease of the night. His jaw tensed, fingers gripping the phone just a little too hard. Whatever was said on the other end of the line, it wasn’t good.

Then—

The roar of an engine.

A car sped toward them, fast, reckless. Headlights flooded their faces, slicing through the night like a blade. Tires screamed against the pavement as the vehicle braked hard, stopping just meters away.

Eric didn’t flinch.

He only said two names. “Mark. Lukas.”

A quiet warning, but the weight of it settled over everyone. Their bodies stiffened, shoulders squaring, like a silent agreement had been made.

No one spoke, but something passed between them, a readiness, a shift in the air.

And then, without looking away from the car, Eric spoke again. “Girls, I am afraid that the party is over.” Flat, detached.

A dismissal.

A separation.

His gaze never left the vehicle, body still, unreadable.

But then, slowly he started moving forward. Not away from the danger, but toward you.

Each step was deliberate, unhurried, like he had all the time in the world.

And then he was close. Close enough that you could feel the heat of him. Close enough that when he tilted his head slightly, looking down at you, it sent something warm and sharp crawling under your skin.

He smiled. Soft. Subtle.

A stark contrast to everything else unfolding around you. “Talk to you later,” he murmured.

Then, just as effortlessly, he turned away again, stepping toward the car, his focus snapping back like you’d never been there at all.

“Mark!” He yelled, his voice edged with frustration, seeing that Lily is not moving away from Mark. He whispers something into her ear making her to walk toward you.

“See you later, ladies.”

Eric said stepping forward as you did the opposite, walking away, each step pulling you further from whatever this was, whatever was about to happen.

But the unease sat heavy in your chest, thick in your throat. And something made you glance back.

That’s when you saw it.

Eric, standing there, a gun in his hand.

For a moment, just a breath of time, your eyes locked. And in that instant, everything else faded, the streetlights, the murmurs of the city, the pounding in your chest.

There was only him.

Only this.

Then you turned away. Heart pounding as you quickening your pace.

The others mirrored you, their footsteps a staccato rhythm against the pavement. This time, you walked faster.

And then— just as you rounded the corner, a deafening explosion shattered the stillness, the ground trembling beneath you.

The explosion. A violent eruption, splitting through the night. A blast that sent a shockwave down the street, rattling windows, making the ground beneath your feet tremble.

Instinctively, you ducked, ears ringing, a cold dread settling in your stomach but didn’t look back again. You just kept walking.

The night, once filled with potential and unspoken promises, now reeked of smoke and danger.

As the explosion echoed in the distance, all of you quickened your pace, the shock of the moment still heavy in the air.

Every instinct screamed at you to keep moving, to put as much distance as possible between you and the chaos unfolding behind.

Yet, the image of Eric, standing resolute amidst the turmoil, burned brightly in your mind, a haunting reminder of the night’s unforeseen turn.

You couldn’t bring yourself to look back, couldn’t bear to see what might be unfolding behind you.

Your thoughts were a whirlwind.

But then, Lily screamed. “Mark!” Her voice was sharp with fear, and her steps faltered, eyes scanning the street, searching for any sign of him.

Without thinking, you reached out, pulling her into a quick, comforting embrace. Cassie did the same.

“It’s okay, Lily,” you said, your voice soft but firm, trying to steady her.

“Everything’s going to be okay.” Cassie adds.

Lily clung to you for a moment, her body tense. “I just… I need to know he’s okay,” she muttered, but she was barely coherent, her worry evident.

You gave her a gentle squeeze, offering a soft reassurance. “I know,” you said quietly, keeping her close, letting the silence speak. “I’m sure he’s fine.”

Lily nodded, her breath shaky but she stepped back slightly, wiping her eyes.

“Yeah, yeah. It’ll be fine,” she said, her voice a little steadier now, though her eyes still scanned the street, heart racing, but not moving toward them. She knew that she shouldn't, she knew what important is to listen what Eric said.

Arriving home, you barely registered the familiar surroundings.

What had just happened? What was going on? Questions without answers gnawed at you, each one more urgent than the last.

Your mind replayed the events over and over, each cycle adding weight to your already burdened heart.

You couldn’t shake the image of Eric, standing there amidst the chaos, his expression unreadable.

What was he involved in? What had you stumbled into?

Sleep eluded you that night, the events replaying in an endless loop.

You couldn’t escape the feeling that things were changing, that you were on the cusp of something you couldn’t understand.

And in the midst of it all, Eric’s face lingered in your mind, a puzzle you couldn’t solve.

The weight of the night pressed down on you, and before you knew it, time had slipped away.

You didn’t realize how late it had gotten until you were facing towards the window, catching sight of the first light of dawn creeping through the blinds.

The sunrise.

That’s when you realized how much time had passed.

Your phone buzzed, breaking your train of thought. You reached over, a frown creasing your forehead as you picked it up. One new message.

You unlocked your phone, and there it was.

Eric’s name lighting up the screen.

____________________

Part one Part two Part Three

I know I said that it will be three parts, but probably it will be four or five. I really Hope you will like and keep reading.

[sweetfuchsia]

ex bf! sae x reader who likes to play around w/ him pt 9

m.list

you wouldn’t say that you’ve been running out of ideas.. the right one just hasn’t come to mind yet.

i mean, you feel like you’ve pranked ex bf! sae in every way possible by now. sighing to yourself, you walk over to your bathroom. maybe you could.. hmmm.

after a few minutes of thinking very hard (laughing to yourself about ex bf! sae’s face when you visit him), your gaze snaps to something, and your thoughts immediately come to a halt. you’re momentarily stunned, before a bright idea suddenly makes your lips curve into a wide smile.

perfect, you think.

and that’s how you found yourself in a cute, short dress with really good makeup on. you’re walking down the street to your ex boyfriend’s house, adjusting your grasp on your purse.

what are you doing today? well, if you couldn’t tell by the wig and the different makeup… today, you’re going to infiltrate ex bf! sae’s house!

you step up to this front door after a little walking, and clear your throat. it took a while to perfect your voice, so you’re hoping that it’s believable.

you lift a hand, knocking on the door. taking a moment to admire your new nails— which were totally for the disguise— you smile to yourself. this is absolutely perfect.

when ex bf! sae reveals himself, he jumps slightly at the sight of— who.. are you? name? no, it can’t be… he sighs to himself. how crazy has he gotten to assume every girl he sees is you.

“what is it?” he questions pointedly, raising an eyebrow at your form. who even are you? a fan, he’s assuming?

he takes note of your attire, narrowing his eyes. not too classy, he thinks. you look like some sort of stripper. name wouldn’t wear something like that— it’s definitely not you.

wait, why’s he thinking of name again?

“hi, sae!” you beam, lightly flicking the hair of your wig over your shoulder before placing your hand on your hip. you look cute— maybe if you didn’t have an ex boyfriend to tease you would have gone out.

“it’s me from the bar. you remember me, right?” you tilt your head at him, glossed lips curling into an easy smile. just like you practiced— not that you were thinking of this too much, or anything… definitely not.

“the cutie you kissed.” you add, purposely being a little vague. if he really did meet a girl, you wouldn’t want to be different from her.

“…not really. but okay.” the man deadpans, expression unamused. he doesn’t recall going to the bar or kissing any girl— let alone a “cute” one. if he’s being completley truthful, the last memorable kiss he had was with you.

“uh, well.. anyways!” you cough softly, eye twitching slightly. man, you kinda forgot how difficult ex bf! sae can be. “can i come in? i just haven’t been able to get you out of my mind.” you ask, pretty lips forming into a pout.

you don’t notice the way you take a small step closer— a small habit that you don’t realise you have. but ex bf! sae does. how could he not?

maybe that’s why he feels just a little more comfortable letting you in.

the night goes on pretty well— and your plan is definitely progressing when you’re able to get ex bf! sae to sit closer to you.

you look around his living room, silently noting how similar it is to the last time you came over. everything’s in the same position, all the furniture is the same, your matching photo frames are still there.. wait, what?!

you narrow your eyes at them— and sure enough, those are the photo frames you and ex bf! sae bought together on one of your dates. thief, you scoff to yourself.

the man in question raises an eyebrow at you. what’re you looking at? his gaze follows yours, and he almost grins. so focused on your things, like usual.

ex bf! sae figured it was you as soon as you slipped out of your shoes— you set them in the same place you’d always put them. in front of his, every single time no matter what.

“something wrong?” he’d hum, adjusting his position slightly and throwing an arm (a very nice looking arm, might i add) over the back of the couch— right behind you.

“no, no.” you say immediately, shaking your head. did he catch you?! hopefully not!

“you sure?” ex bf! sae purrs, a smile, or more of a smirk, finding it’s way to his lips as he moves his hand to lightly touch your thigh. part of him wonders where you’d get such a dress from. it’s not like you to wear something like this— are you really that dedicated to bothering him?

ha, it’s working! you smile back at him, leaning slightly closer to him. and just like you planned, he leans closer— but…

everything’s going the way you wanted to. you infiltrated his house, had some fun, tricked him— so why do you feel so… you don’t know.

ex bf! sae hums when he feels the gentle brush of your breath against his lips. why are you holding back? he would’ve thought you’d taken the. chance by now— or at least revealed yourself.

unless this really is just some other woman and he’s going fucking crazy or something.

you both pause, thoughts a scrambled mess and intertwining with each other; “what the fuck have i gotten myself into?”

note: i will continue this in the next part :P

[gardenladysworld]

Starbound hearts

Status: I'm working on it

Pairings: Neteyam x human!f!reader

Aged up characters!

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

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

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

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

Part 18. vol 2: To remember

Part 19: To carry

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

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

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

"Spill," she commands.

You blink. "What—"

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

Shit.

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

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

Your jaw drops. "What?!"

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

"Kate!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

Because, holy shit.

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

"And?"

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

Kate squints. "Define distracted."

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

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

Kate’s eyes widen. "Oh, bitch."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Kate gasps. "Like, scary big?"

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

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

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

Kate’s jaw drops. "And?"

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

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

You cackle, catching the pillow as she groans dramatically.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Kate’s jaw drops. "No. Fucking. Way."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You laugh, stretching your arms above your head. 

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

"You are sitting down."

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

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

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

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

Kate wheezes, but you’re not done.

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

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

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

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

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

Kate frowns. "What? Why?"

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

Kate fucking howls, clutching her stomach as she laughs.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Just… out.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Something that looks an awful lot like hurt.

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

Jake stiffens.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But now?

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

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

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

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

You never do.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Neteyam hums, smug. "Good to know."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

So, you do what you know he needs.

You start talking.

Softly.

Gently.

Filling the silence with something light, something safe.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And it makes you frown.

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

He blinks, his ears twitching. "What?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

How could I fit there?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Neteyam doesn’t hesitate.

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

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

But then—you start to squirm.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And then—his eyes catch something else.

A wall of photos.

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

Neteyam’s chest tightens.

He remembers this boy.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A drawing of him.

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

His breath catches slightly.

This is not something you drew in passing.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He looks up—And immediately forgets how to breathe.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But the storm in his mind doesn’t quiet.

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

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

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

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

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

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

"What is cat?"

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

You blink.

"What?"

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

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

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

Neteyam frowns, confused. "Last night?"

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

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

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

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

"And you are adorable."

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

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

Eywa help him.

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

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

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

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

Neteyam exhales, steadying himself.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He raises a brow, intrigued. "Siblings?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Neteyam stiffens.

His ears twitch.

His tail flicks behind him.

And then—

He realizes.

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

He is purring.

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

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

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

And Eywa help him—He does.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Dogs?" Neteyam echoes, frowning slightly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

"It’s a gift."

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

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

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

But then—he shifts.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You blink. "What?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Neteyam barely breathes.

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

And then—you kiss him.

Hard.

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

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

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

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

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

Slow.

Deliberate.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Then let me show you," you whisper.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"F-Fuck—Neteyam—"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I—I can’t—"

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

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

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

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

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

"Nete—I—!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your face burns. "I hate you."

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

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

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

And, Eywa help you…

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Ah—Neteyam—"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Something in him cracks.

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

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

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

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

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

Your chest tightens.

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

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

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

His ears twitch, but he doesn’t respond.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

¯\_( ◉ 3 ◉ )_/¯

Part 20: (Soon)

[legendofmorons]

Written in the stars (forever on loop) Chapter two - Catch my breath (what else can I do?)

Pairing: eventual Poly! Chain x reader, platonic Wind & reader

Series Rating: T

Summary: Day two with the chain has its challenges. Thankfully, Epona and Wind are there to make things better. Four and Sky have a heart to heart while a late night talk with Warriors leaves you with some questions and thoughts.

Warnings: grief, cursing

Other: If I missed anything, please let me know

Previous masterlist. Next

Breakfast is your saving grace in the morning, especially because you need something to do that isn't focusing on everything that happened yesterday.

You sit by Sky again, though Wind sits on your other side.

Sky looks exhuasted, blinking blearily and having to stifle a yawn every so often. He's got puffy eyes... has he been crying? Maybe it was just a bad day...

No one else speaks to you or sits near you, though. There's a tense atmosphere you could cut with a very dull butter knife.

"So, what do you do back home?" Wind asks before stuffing a bite of his food in his mouth.

You smile politely, "I work, I listen to music, I talk to my friends and family. Nothing exciting. What about you?"

"I like to sail a lot." Wind says.

This isn't a surprise. He gives off pirate gremlin energy anyhow. It's good to know it is from a hobby and not just your own interpretation of what is apparently more than a video game.

You smile a little more real this time. "That's good, it's important to have hobbies. Do you live near the sea?"

"You know about the sea!" Wind declares excitedly.

You laugh a little, "Of course I do."

You can feel the way all the others look at you with strange gazes and furrowing brows or outright glares.

You focus your gaze on Wind, blocking out the others.

Wind looks absolutely delighted, though, his grin wide and bright. "No one else but Wild knows. You do, though!"

"I do." You agree easily.

The young teen is adoreable in the excitement that causes his ears to twitch a little.

Sky smiles too, "He's a fan of the sea."

"Maybe we can visit it." You offer.

Wind cheers, beaming at you. "I hope so!"

Time clears his throat to get everyone's attention. The air goes thick again around you.

You turn your gaze to the oldest, wondering yet again why he has the fierce diety marking on only half his face if he has them at all.

"We're going to keep looking for a town today, we need to get our new friends some supplies since they were caught unawares." Time says.

He hasn't looked at you. Most of them haven't looked at you. Not really.

You feel your face heat up a little. Embarrassment floods your being.

If you had known you were going to end up here, you would have prepared more!

"We should also probably see about finding a river or something soon." Warriors adds firmly.

The others agree with both sentiments.

Wind elbows you playfully, "Don't worry, we all got caught unawares at least once. I started my adventure by hitting things with sticks."

The teen gives a wink at the end, like he's telling you a secret.

You laugh, recalling that sequence in Wind Waker. Immediately, you feel guilty simply for having loved and played the games.

Apparently, the world of Hyrule is real.

Oh.

Right.

This is all so bizarre.

You played through what were probably horrible quests and memories for fun. (You didn't know! If you had known - breathe. You remind yourself to breathe.)

Last night's dreams were weird.

Everything is so different

"Don't overthink." Sky chides lightly although, it sounds like it's something he says on autopilot, his face twisting with an unreadable emotion.

Grief, maybe? But worry, too.

"Okay." You manage.

"Twilight, Wild, Wind, Legend, and Sky, you'll all look for a river. Warriors, Four, Hyrule, and I will take (Y/n) and look for a town." Time says.

No!

You don't want to leave Sky and Wind. They are the least tense!

At least you'll be with Four and Hyrule. They are far less intimidating than Time and Warriors.

"Don't worry," Wind whispers to you as he nudges your side lightly. "They're all big softies."

He gives you a dramatic wink.

You crack a weak smile. "Really??"

"Really." Wind assures.

"Thanks." You say softer.

The teen grins at you. He looks pretty eleated in general.

"Alright, when you are ready, we'll head out." Time says to you. He's finally looking at you, but his face is stony.

You acknowledge his words and work on finishing your food.

After you've eaten and everything has been packed up, the groups split up.

You are flanked by four men as you walk. Warriors and Four on either side of you with Time in the back and Hyrule beside him.

None of them talk except to tell you if you're turning. Their eyes never seem to be on you, but you swear they're watching.

The silence is strange. (Some strange subconscious part of you rails against the tense air around you. This is wrong!)

"So... uhm... what's with the portals?" You ask after a good twenty minutes of walking.

This seems like a solid start point. The silence is too much anyway.

The others seem to share a silent conversation around you. None of them look at you.

Warriors looks at you as he answers. "There is a Sahdow opening them and letting lose monsters of different eras."

You nod. That sounds like some Legend of Zelda stuff right there... You should probably stop thinking of this as a video game world.

Four sighs. "Of course we're all here because we're heroes."

"That makes sense... why am I here?" You ask, feeling as if you're in free fall without a parachute as far as information goes.

There's a beat of silence.

The men exchange glances around you, yet another silent converstion exchanging in seconds.

"We don't know." Time says evenly, a measured tone flowing in his voice. His gaze is still too heavy on you, as if he's daring you to do something.

"Okay." You manage.

Four offers you a slightly strained smile. "We'll figure it out."

His smile is wrong. His eyes are wrong. He dosen’t believe in what he says, does he?

"I hope so."

Hyrule hums once. "Are you a hero where you're from? That might make it make sense if you are."

You laugh a little, startled at the notion. "No. No, my life back home is... boring enough."

Four and Warriors both look spooked by your laugh, looking at you with frowns. The latter looks a little angry, too, with pinched brows.

Okay. Maybe it was rude to laugh?

"Oh." Hyrule says.

"Boring can be good." Warriors offers after a moment, face fixing itself into an overly polite mask.

You smile weakly. "I guess so."

"Are you a royal then?" Hyrule asks.

You laugh again. "No. I'm definitely not."

The silence comes back, heavy and awkward. You don't bother trying to break it again.

There's something wrong in the air. You just can't place it. You have barely interacted with any of them!

At least Hyrule and Four just seem to avoid watching you. Or maybe it just feels that way because Warriors and Time won't stop - even if you don't catch them, you can feel it.

What is it with these heroes and the staring problem?

Yeesh.

Hopefully, when you see Wind again, He can lighten the mood.

-------

The trip to town was awkward, stilted, and almost painful. When you're dropped off at an inn to what for the boys to get the others, you are relieved.

You've gotten a travel pack with a place for your bed roll. You've also been given a few spare clothes, which is nice.

You are apparently to share an inn room with someone tonight.

Hopefully, it's Wind or Sky. They haven't glared at you or made you feel unwanted.

You settle on one of two beds, wondering what you have done to earn their cold shoulders. Did you... over step somehow?

Maybe they know about the video games? They aren't self-aware in the game, hopefully?

Nothing makes sense anyway.

There's a knock at the door before someone calls. "Hey, it's just me! We're roommates!"

Wind.

Thank goodness.

The door opens to reveal a grinning Wind.

"Did you have fun?" You ask.

The teen is practically bouncing. "I did! It was great, oh my goodness! Wild and Sky got tangled up in some roots, and we had to finish a mini dungeon!"

"That sounds... busy?"

"It was fun! We got some rupees, too."

"That's good!" You say a bit more cheerily.

The boy grins.

He asks you about your trip, and you just say it was okay, a little awkward, but not horrible.

Dinner is quick, and every time you try to make conversation with anyone but Wind they look pained by the attempt, and it peeters out.

Even Sky seems a little skittish about you during dinner, although his eyes look puffy again. Maybe he's going through something?

You sigh, deciding to go see Epona. Maybe she'll let you pet her?

Epona is at least less scared of you. She just sniffs your hand curiously.

As soon as she sniffs you, she's pressing her face into your hand insistently, as if asking for attention. Who are you to deny her?

She's sweet, at least.

"Such a good girl you are." You coo to Epona sweetly.

She isn't at fault for the tense atmosphere of the boys.

Petting her mane gently is relaxing in ways you hadn't quite expected. She's all but leaning into it, a few soft snorts here and there but otherwise seemingly content to be near you.

"Aw, I wish I had something to give you, sweetheart."

Epona just leans a little more into your touch.

"I'll just keep an eye out. Maybe we can find an apple or something for you."

You can feel a few others watching you, but you don't turn. It's much nicer here with Epona than with the heavy silence and strained attempts at conversation provided by the boys.

Although Wind is certainly picking up some slack there, he deserves some cookies or something.

"How'd you get to be so sweet, pretty girl?" You muse.

It's a nice break from havin to be around anyone. Epona is so gentle and sweet, at least with you. She's happy to let you pet her man and sctach behind her ears gently.

Animals are amazing.

-------

Sky and Four take to their room, both looking forward to getting away from the painful reminder you are. They know it's not your fault, you seem nice, but still...

Grief is funny sometimes.

The moment the door closes, Sky's carefully polite face is falling into twisting grief.

Four just flops himself onto his bed. His head hurts, pounding like a horribly novice out of step marching band is playing their show inside his skull.

It's too much.

Sky just leans against the door, sinking to the floor with his head leaning back.

"Why couldn't they look different?" Sky asks in a shaking whisper.

The question escapes his mouth on accident.

Four turns over, so he's staring up at the ceiling. "I don't know."

Sky dosen’t turn. Instead, he just closes his eyes.

"It's not their fault." Four says, staring at the ceiling.

"No." Sky agrees. "It's not."

"I feel so bad for them." Four manages.

He does.

Against the grief and the anger and the stupid hope that twirl around his lost love, there's sympathy. Sympathy for the unexpected start of an adventure.

Sympathy for the lost look in their eyes at unfamiliarity scripts of hylian writing.

"Goddess... They looked terrified when they first saw me." Sky whispers into the room.

He uses that expression of terror to ground himself. It sounds bad. He knows it sounds bad.

But your terror is proof that you aren't his beloved sunshine.

His sunshine... never looked at him like that. They were never scared of him. Not when they saw him seal the imprisoned. Not when they saw him fight Demise.

They were never scared.

The expression of terror on your face chafes at his soul, but it helps him remember you aren't anyone else but a stranger in a scary situation.

"I think they're scared of Time." Four says.

Sky laughs weakly. "He is intimidating..."

"It's uncanny... They're identical in looks and personality."

"I know."

"How do you do it? I can barely look at them."

"I - can barely look away." Sky laughs, though it almost sounds like crying.

Four hums once, thoughtful mostly. His entire being, all of his colors, struggle under the grief you've stirred up. His empathize for his soul brothers is endless.

His grief is even more vast.

"Goddess. They'd be ashamed of me." Sky admits, "Dancing around a stranger trying to keep everything under wraps and falling apart as soon as the door shuts."

Four narrows his eyes, pushing up to lean on his elbows. His glare is trained on Sky. "Don't sully thier memory by assigning your shame to them."

"What?" Sky swallows, looking at Four with wide eyes.

The hero of skies looks like a kicked puppy, glassy eyes, and shaking form.

Four dosen’t care. Not now. Not when the memory of their soulmate's memory is being treated so poorly.

"They wouldn't be ashamed of you for doing your best in a hard situation. They wouldn't blame you for having complex feelings. Your own guilt shouldn't be projected onto their memory." Four says, or maybe that's Blue and Vio in control for now. Who can tell?

They all miss you. Every piece of him misses you.

"How could they not be?" Sky asks. "I'm messing everything up!"

"Legend hasn't stopped glaring at them, Time just stares silently, I can barely look at them. Sky, you're being more normal about this than anyone!"

"Wind is doing much better."

"Wind hasn't lost them yet. Of course, he's doing better." Four rolls his eyes, pushing down the envy.

"I know. I... Why does he still have them when no one else does?"

"He's fourteen. There's plenty of time for him to get fucked over like the rest of us." Four snaps.

"I didn't mean- I just miss them."

"I know." Four sighs, closing his eyes. "I know... I think we all do."

Silence falls over the room, heavy but not uncomfortable. It's the silence that falls over loved ones when they've had a hard conversation and need to think but still feel safe together.

Four falls back against the bed, trying to remember the way his lover once held him. Perhaps it's self destructive, but when it helps him cope, he dosen’t care.

He can feel the colors, his head is still pounding.

Blue is restless as ever, a rage at the reminder that you're gone. Anger that Sky could speak of your memory so poorly.

Green and Red are trying to calm it all down. They're trying to focus on the better times they had with thier lover.

Vio... is Vio. He's focusing on the facts again.

Like always.

Four focuses on his breathing, pretending that it's them here counting it instead of him.

Who knew trying to keep himself together would be so hard?

-------

You're outside trying to get some air after having the same dream from last night. The argument and lead up to something horrible in the dream is - draining.

The night air is chilly, but it's a nice relief from the stifling feeling of the bed.

Stars above you make out patterns you shouldn't be able to recognize, but you swear you see a set of stars that's supposed to be a harp. It isn't the harp constellation from your world, though. It's different.

You sit on the steps that lead up to the inn porch, leaning against the banister.

There's some sort of spinning string instrument tune stuck in your head, unplayable as the origin of the second and strange harp constellation.

There's the sound of the door opening and closing behind you. Probably another person in search of some air.

"What... are you doing our here?" Asks a man.

You turn, looking over your shoulder to see Warriors, still in his entire outfit, chain mail, and all.

His gaze is heavy, not as bad as Time's but strange as ever.

You sigh, trying to avoid tensing up at the sight of him. "I needed some air... I guess you do, too."

Warriors sighs, "You could say that."

"Don't let me stop you." You say, turning your head back to facing forwards and gazing out at the small town before you.

A lazy night breeze blows across you, ruffling your hair a little.

Warriors is silent behind you, a large presence. He's unmoving.

You're left wondering if he's still there for a moment.

It seems rude to check, though.

How he can be so still is beyond you, but you suppose that's probably a skill he picked up from the war. (A war you're not meant to know about.)

Warriors moves finally, walking until he's beside you. He stands there, unmoving again as he stares up at the stars.

"You shouldn't be out here without a weapon." He says finally.

You glance up at him. "Why? It's a small town."

"Ambushes can happen anytime anywhere."

"I can't say that's something I've had to worry about much." You admit. Which is true, for all the creeps and killers of your world... none of them are literal monsters.

Besides, you don't have a weapon right now. Why would you need one while traveling with the group?

"Count yourself lucky." Warriors tells you, "You should start worrying about it, though. Our group gets ambushed often."

You take a slow breath, trying to decide if you're supposed to respond or not. What do you even say to that?

He looks at you, face carefully neutral in a way that feels vaugley threatened. "You... aren't a fighter, are you?"

"Not the way you guys seem to be."

"You've never fought a war... have you?" Warriors asks in a soft voice.

He sounds- he sounds like your answer is important to this question. He sounds like you have some huge sway over what happens with this answer.

His face is still carefully blank.

"No. I've never fought in a war." You say slowly, trying to make sense of whatever this is.

Warriors let's out a slow, heavy sigh. "I hope it stays that way."

"Me too." You say.

You mean it, too. How could you not? Who hopes to get pulled into a war? Not you.

Moments pass, and thick silence seems to press in on you.

"I'm sorry." You say finally.

Warriors looks at you, face still unnervingly calm.

What life has he led that he's so good at neutral poker faces?

"Why?" He asks you.

That's a great question. Why are you sorry?

There's so many reasons.

You're sorry you played their games and enjoyed them.

You're sorry that you're here and slowing them down.

You're sorry that you came unprepared, and they had to step up.

You're sorry he's lost so much.

"I'm sorry I've been such a pain." You settle on. "I know I slowed you guys down and that you stepped up yesterday to help make sure I'm set up for whatever it is we've all been dragged into."

Warriors sighs while something heavy flashes through his eyes before it disappears. "You don't need to apologize. We weren't going to kick you aside."

"I guess. I'm still sorry."

"Do you know how many times I've heard these kinds of apologies?" He asks.

You shake your head. "No."

He looks up to the sky again. "Too many times. Too many people have told me they're sorry for things they can't control. That they're sorry for me doing something simple."

"Oh."

"Don't waste time or words on things like that." Warriors tells you with a stern look.

You would imagine it's a look he picked up as a captain.

"Okay." You breathe out softly.

"I mean it, (Y/n)." He says, though he sounds far away. It's like he's actually speaking to someone else.

Someone he lost.

"Okay." You say again softer.

-------

Next

[smallestapplin]

It won’t come off

Warnings : first contact au, major character death (reader dies), Bee and reader are close despite the language barrier, could be read as platonic or romantic. Italicized dialogue means only one understand.

This was commissioned by : @bellafragolina

Word count : 1,596

-

-

You were just so small compared to him, to see someone so tiny and squishy he couldn’t believe his optics! You looked up at the towering mech in a mix of awe and fear, you didn't even come up to his knees, he's so massive to you. You speak yet he can’t understand you, he can see your intake moving but it's a bunch of cute mutters and squeaks to his audials, but that’s okay!

“Don’t worry little buddy I got you. Oh primus, this is great! I get to show you around, I’m sure A-a-tron and Steve will love ya!”

He’s gentle with you despite his excitement, picking you up with care and even taking you small little space craft with him. You don’t understand anything he says, it sounds like whirls beeps and clanking to you, but that should be fine, right? It’s clear he’s a sentient robot of sorts, you wish you could communicate and ask.

But with how damaged your space craft is, you don’t think that would be possible.

You two swiftly fall into a routine, he works and you scavenge around for any metals you can use to repair your ship, though you’re glad you still had food and supplies on board. You don’t get a lot of time to do so, however, this mech loves talking to you even if you can’t understand him, you can hear his tone.

It’s cute how he lights up when you answer, it gets him rambling that much more. Being down here with no light, unable to tell how long you’ve been here, makes it hard to keep track of how long you’ve been missing, surely communications back home would try to find you, right? Looking back at the yellow bot you smile, maybe being stuck here isn’t so bad, though you’re not sure how much food and water you have left or how long it’ll last you.

Though over the course of your stay you’ve picked up on a few words, one of which at least part of his name, the look of joy that crosses his face and the whirling metal sound which you could only think was a squeal, lets you know he’s overjoyed to hear you call him ‘Bee.’ Though he has a much harder time with your language, you can hear him call you ‘little buddy’ all the time, it’s adorable in your eyes, it worries you a little how long he must’ve been here alone.

You heard it first, the sound of something falling? Maybe it’s because everything on this planet is so much louder, but you hid in the hole in Bee’s chest plate not wanting to take chances. You hear Bee coo at you, placing a hand over where you hid, thinking you’re just so cute. Only moments later do you hear talking, and Bee excitedly rambling as your name pops up a few times.

You wish you could understand them better.

“Little buddy? Orion, please, he’s insane.”

“Dee, be nice, he can help us find a way out!”

“Oh yeah, sorry little buddy is just shy! I mean I don't blame them for how small they are, but they are so cute! Best company ever. Now that you two are here we can have massive sleepovers, dude it’ll be great-“

Even from Bee’s chest you can hear the annoyance of one of them. Being able to hear things but not see them is horrifying as you can recognize the panic in their voices, the sadness, the anger, feel when Bee is running and freaking out. Just what is happening out there? You almost didn’t want to leave the safety of Bee’s chest plate, it was safer here, and he’d protect you!

B127 cringes, looking like a guilt turbofox as Alpha Trion and now the others stare at him, yeah having a cog would be so cool! But where would his little buddy stay? you’re too close to where his cog would go, too close to-

“H-hey, you can’t just-“

“An organic?” From the open chest plate Alpha Trion holds you up, such a small little thing, fleshy and squishy.

You shake under the new bots' glazes, all of them staring you down, some in awe, some in curiosity, some in bewilderment, but the large purple one is not easy to read like they are, or even like Bee is. The yellow bot reaches for you as you shakily call his name, your voice as small as you are, and quaking in fear at this newcomer.

“They are my friend, you can’t just take them!” Even as nervous as he is, he refuses to let you get taken from him, he can protect you just fine.

Alpha Trion glances between you and the newly fogged yellow bot, before carefully handing you back to him. You cling to Bee’s zero, just as he clings to you, holding you close to his helm and trying to mutter soothing things to you.

“I see you are fond of them, but let it be known this entire world can hurt them or worse, they are too soft to handle this place on their own. And with your next journey ahead, I fear what may happen to them.”

Though the older cybertronian warns him, Bee holds you closer.

“I can protect them! I have up to this point, even before all this, they are my little friend, we spent so much time in the mines together, they even learned how to say a nickname for me!”

Their usual silly cybertronian was determined, optics narrowed filled with promise that nothing could get between him and you. Though Alpha Trion was not convinced, merely giving a solemn nod before the first blaster set off. Back into Bee’s spark chamber you went, and they went running once more, trying to figure out their new T-cogs. You groan at the whiplash from going to sit in Bee’s spark chamber, to a driver’s seat, back to the spark chamber, and constantly flipping between a soft blue and the chaos happening outside.

When everything finally goes still you wish it made you calm down, but it only made you worry more, Bee was never quiet, there was always sound around you, his humming, his chatter, the sound of his work around you, nothing was ever still like this. Yet you stay put, Bee is the only one you trust, he’d keep you guarded.

When the sound returns you breathe a sigh of relief, even if it sounded angry, at least Bee was talking.. all this adventuring has made you tired and hungry, you can’t wait to go back to the mines and back to your ship. You nuzzle against the blue pulsing thing in his chest plate with you, briefly noting how Bee’s voice shakes as you do so.

He speaks to you, yet you can only understand him saying ‘not’, maybe if you wait a little more you two can get things settled. Bee tried but taking on so many bots at once in such chaos, and trying to help Orion and Elita out was overwhelming, but he’d do it, he can’t let anyone down when they’ve done so much for him.

It was a slip up, he didn’t get the blast coming but it didn’t go too deep in his plating, he can still fight!…what is all this red stuff leaking from his chest plate? It’s no oil he’s ever seen before. His spark sank, swiftly taking cover from all the fire to rip his spark chamber open and pull you out.

You’re weak.

It hurts to move.

Your pained whimper makes his eyes leak, you can hear him frantically muttering to you, comming someone like Orin for help, but you can’t take it, he sounds so upset.

You place a hand to his face plate, softly speaking to him trying to settle his nerves, but it's just making him cry that much harder. You’re certain he’s apologizing, for what you aren’t sure, but you’re just happy to have met him and seen life beyond your stars.

“It’s okay…I’m here. Bee, please don’t…don’t feel bad.” You know he can’t understand your words, your languages apart, but the love for him united you both.

Your eyes feel heavy, but he needs you, you know he does, he’s your friend, you can’t leave him. Orion appears in view, saying something to Bee but the yellow bot lets out a wail, not wanting to let you go, you’re hurt, you need him!

You’re human.

You’re soft, just like Alpha Trion said.

This world was against you, such small thinsg to them would be the end of you.

If only Bee had taken it to spark to realize just how fragile his squishy friend was, he was sure you’d never get hurt.

Some friend, he is, right, little buddy?

Yet your body is limp, you aren’t answering his ever growing yells of your little name, you can’t leave him, you can’t…

Orion places a servo on Bee’s shoulder, letting his friend grieve such a heavy loss. You would want him to live, to fight on, protect anyone from your fate. But the larger bot stays quiet, keeping his thoughts to himself as Bee refuses to let your limp body go.

And he’d have to until you can have a proper going away after they stop this madness.

But he can’t let you go, even placing your body in his spark chamber again and weeps. You’re limp, you’re losing your warmth.

And this red stuff won’t come off.

[onlyangel4]

booking of the century. drew mcintrye. part two.

drew mcintyre x returning!reader

part one

synopsis: triple h books you four years since your last match and a lot has changed but the man you fell in love with all those years ago still has your heart.

warnings: slow burn. will be multiple parts. loss of a parent after medical event. angst (more to come).

∘•···············•∘ʚ ♡ ɞ∘•················•∘

"look what the cat dragged in", jon hollered as soon as he spotted you outside the airport dragging your suitcase behind you.

“i swear down i will turn around and get on a plane home”, you laughed shaking your head, arms instinctively opening for trinity to run into.

“nope, i'm going to hug you as tight as possible so you never leave me again”, the woman teased from inside your arms making you laugh again as jon grabbed your suitcase putting it into the trunk of the car.

“i still can’t believe boss man left us in charge of the biggest secret in modern wrestling”, jon exclaimed getting into the driver’s seat.

“it’s not that big of a secret, shaun and luis know as well”, you spoke but in reality you knew jon was right. other than the top dogs in production only four fellow wrestlers knew exactly what was going to happen tonight, the last smackdown before the chamber. It was a massive secret, one that you thought you would be unable to pull off but everything had slipped into place and now it was only a few hours before your highly anticipated return.

∘•···············•∘ʚ ♡ ɞ∘•················•∘

getting to the stadium had been a huge blur, you had sat in the backseat in silence just listening to the friendly bickering from your two close friends in the front but your mind was somewhere else, it was stuck on him. he had no idea that you were coming back, how would he react? would he be angry at you for not telling him? only time would tell, and that made bile rise in your throat.

drew had been the person who believed in you when no one else did, he was the person who would drag you out of bed to train on your off days, he was your biggest fan and greatest inspiration, so surprising him in such a way felt wrong but hunter had convinced you that it was best for business, for both of you.

sometimes your mind wandered back to what could have been between the both of you, stuff was so fresh when your mother got ill, but if it had just been a year in the future maybe you would have let drew come home with you, maybe you would have let him support you in the way that he wanted to. but you couldn’t get hung up on maybes and what ifs. looking after your mother had been your number one priority and you had done your duty, now it was time to get back to work.

∘•···············•∘ʚ ♡ ɞ∘•················•∘

a squeal pulled you out of your thoughts, you had arrived at the stadium and the back door of the car had been swung open, on the other side stood one of your closest friends, “there’s my girl” steph barely gave you enough time to get out of the car before her arms engulfed you in a mighty hug.

“jesus girl maybe you should be the one getting back in the ring, with all that strength of yours”, you teased your friend playfully before being led through a back entrance that had been specifically cleared for you.

“i feel like the president or some shit”

steph just shook her head at you before pulling you into a small room, “okay so you can get ready in here, hair and make up will come in here in about an hour, only let someone if they knock twice alright”, she spoke her voice turning professional.

“steph are you sure this is all necessary”

“yes we can’t have news of your return getting out this close to it, the internet is going to go mad”

you spoke to steph for about half an hour before she left to go to some sort of last minute meeting, then the hair and make up ladies came to the room and sorted you out ready for the show. the whole time you were in your own little world. part of you could not believe that this was really happening, that you were really back. another part of yourself was angry that you had not returned earlier, you missed the electric atmosphere that hung in the air pre show, the anticipation for what was going to come.

eventually enough time had lapsed and two knocks told you that it was time to go, you swung the door open and you were met with a familiar face, luis also known as damian priest, “i wasn’t going to believe that you were back until i saw you”

“in the flesh”, you smiled at the man

“we are on in five, you ready to go?”

“as ready as i’ll ever be”

∘•···············•∘ʚ ♡ ɞ∘•················•∘

drew did not know what to expect. he had been told to go out and shoot a promo ahead of the elimination chamber, talking about how he was going to win the chamber in a ruthless way, he had also been warned that there was going to be an interruption but that was all he knew. when drew had voiced worry about not knowing what to say when he did not have time to prepare hunter had just patted him on the back and said, “trust me, you will know exactly what to say”, the ominous reassurance from his boss left drew with more questions than answers.

but as a guy who always did what he was told drew just nodded and now he was stood in the centre of the ring, mic in his hands a mixture of cheers and boos radiating from the audience, something that made the scottish psychopath smirk as he cleared his throat.

“after tomorrow i am going to be the king of toronto”, the crowd booed in rebellion

“aw don’t be so sad, you are going to get the match of a lifetime, you get to watch me lay out all of your favourites”, he continued.

“i have been dead set of revenge ever since the rumble and nothing is going to get in my way”, then suddenly he was cut off by jimmy uso’s music as the man appeared down the bottom of the ramp, earning a huge pop from the crowd. drew was about to continue when jimmy held up a finger to his lips shhhing him. then la knight’s music played and the megastar arrived at jimmy’s side.

“what are you two doing here, i beat both of you. you have no place here”, drew spoke harshly.

“well you may have beaten both of us but neither us want you to win”, jimmy started

“we have our money on a different horse, a horse that actually has skill and not just rage”, la knight finished a smirk on his lips as damian priest’s music echoed through the stadium and the man entered.

“they might not be in the match but i am”, damian priest’s low voice echoed through the mic, “and I have some punishing to do”

“do you really think a conversation with you and your war dogs is going to throw me off my game? are you really that stupid”, drew spoke laughing at the man’s attempt but damian simply shook his head.

“you are difficult person to get information on drew, with the likes of rollins and punk I can just bring up their families and get under their skin. but not you. it really got me thinking. but then i remembered we have a friend in common and i invited them to toronto to watch me destroy you”

“no one you bring here could throw me off my ga-“, drew couldn’t even finish his sentence when your music began to play, a song that he had not heard in four whole years and the wind was knocked right out of him.

the crowd went fucking mental when they saw you walk to damian’s side, you had been a fan favourite during your time in the company, with many calling you a modern day aj lee. they loved you and they still did.

drew could not believe it, the woman that had left his life just as he had been falling in love with her was at the top of the ring eyes trained on him, a light smile on her lips, but it didn’t reach her eyes and that worried the man slightly, maybe you weren’t ready to be back, maybe you didn’t want to see him. His mind was racing and his face was blank as he looked straight at you.

“what’s wrong bro you look like you have seen a ghost”, jimmy chuckled as he looked at drew.

“y/n is here to just make sure that you aren’t all talk, you say that you are going to win the chamber no matter what, she is just here to show the world that you are a liar”, la spoke his hand resting on your shoulder.

“you’ve made this personal”, drew spat out

“this has always been personal, you forgot that because you have not had anyone you care about in the wings for four years”, damian shot back.

then you finally lifted the mic up to your lips, “see you tomorrow drew”, the lights went out in the stadium and you and the three man had disappeared leaving drew along in the ring dumbfounded.

∘•···············•∘ʚ ♡ ɞ∘•················•∘

“holy shit y/n I did not know the crowd could even get that loud”, jon spoke squeezing your shoulder making you laugh, “I’m so glad you are back”, he spoke as he walked back stage with you.

“i’m glad to be back”

the next few moments were a blur with superstars that did not know of your return running over to give you a hug and welcome you back into the company and you were smiling, properly this time. maybe you had been worried for nothing, maybe you were exactly where you belonged, surrounded by people that loved you and wanted the best for you.

eventually you manged to escape the crowd of people that had surrounded you, heading down to your dressing room, pulling your hair out of it’s high pony as you walked, opening the door as your hair fell over your shoulders, finally free.

what you had not been expecting had been to see drew stood in the room, eyes locked on the door arms crossed over his chest.

you froze eyes looking at the man, daring him to do something, daring him to shout at you for ambushing him without warning, expecting anger from the large man in front of you. but instead his gaze softened, eyes became warned as he closed the distance between you his arms welcoming you into an all too familiar hug that you melted into. Drew kept his arms around you, holding you close as if you would disappear if he let go of you. he then leant down to your ear lips barely centimetres away from your skin.

“we have a lot to talk about”

[sevcasejay1chicago]

Life Lines- Severide x Casey x reader

Summary: Multi-car pileups and morning sickness do not mix.

🚨Warnings: Illusion to people/ children dy!ng, possibly violent descriptions of vomiting, Needles mentioned. 🚨

🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨

Calls with kids were always rough, but even worse since you found out you were pregnant. Right now, while you were pregnant at least, you are driving the truck and operating the aerial. You were to help ambo on any calls that did not impose a safety concern to you and the baby.

On this particular call, truck was called out to assist in a major car accident. Squad was tied down elsewhere, so you guys were it. Upon arrival, you all sucked in a huge breath.

“Holy shit.” Gallo muttered, staring right past your shoulder at the scene you were pulling the rig up to.

This was a multi-car pileup. Bodies were scattered around. Bystanders were helping wherever they could until help arrived, but you could tell some were a lost cause. As soon as you put the rig in park, the back cleared pretty quickly. Matt grabbed your arm from across the console.

“Hey.” Matt whispered, lightly rubbing a hand over your arm. “You can stay here or help ambo. No heavy lifting, okay?” Matt asked, slightly concerned with the paleness of your face.

You nodded, not daring to open your mouth. From your vantage point, you saw a small body in the street. As soon as you approached, your eyes landed on him and you knew that kid was in bad shape. It made you physically sick. You could tell he hadn’t been properly buckled, which means someone fucked up and that made you angry and sick all at the same time.

——————————————

Once the call was over, Matt decided that Mouch needed to drive back. The crew was extremely concerned by how pale you had gotten and Stella was in charge of keeping an eye on you on the ride back. Matt messaged Kelly, knowing that he was already back at the station, to give him a heads up and have him meet them on the app floor.

So, once Mouch had the rig still, Kelly was waiting for you to hop out of the rig and into his arms. What he wasn’t expecting, however, was for you to run past him and toward the bathrooms. He was quick on your heels, putting the situation together pretty quickly.

Once you were in one of the stalls, you immediately projectile vomited into the toilet. If it wasn’t for Kelly catching you around the waist and slowly guiding your ascent to the floor, you would have slammed onto your knees and possibly hit your belly on the way down.

“Oh baby.” Kelly exhaled, kneeling behind you and rubbing your back with the hand that wasn’t secured around your chest. “It’s okay. I’m here.”

Matt came barging in after you started heaving the second round into the toilet. “I knew something was up, God babe. I should have benched her.” Matt couldn’t fit in the stall and he was growing antsy as he stressed over your well being. He paced back and forth, rubbing the back of his neck as he pondered on what his next move should be. “You got her Kel?”

“Yeah.” Kelly said, lightly squeezing the back of your neck and holding you by the waist. “Can you get some water and a wash cloth? Maybe see if Brett is here and can get her some Zofran?”

“I’m on it. I’ll be right back sweetheart.” Matt called, running out the door and toward the ambo that was parked on the apparatus floor. He wasn’t sure if you could hear him, but it made him feel less like he was abandoning you when you needed him.

“Breathe baby girl. Just breathe.” Kelly murmured, rubbing your back slowly. He didn’t like the pallor of your face or the way you shook in his embrace. He wants nothing more than to have shielded you from this or to switch places with you.

You were sweating and very uncomfortable. The nausea was hitting you hard and in waves. You were still in the first trimester and the morning sickness had been killer, but this was insane. Your emotions were making this so much worse. You gasped around a heave, shaking and crying as your body fought to rid itself of everything in your system.

“Baby. I need you to try and calm down.” Kelly whispered. “It’s okay. Try to take some deep breaths for me. You can do it.” He coached, hoping to help calm you down some.

You nodded to show Kelly that you heard him. You were really trying and you were hoping that Matt would be back with that Zofran soon. Everything was spinning. You were vomiting less, but your stomach kept heaving. You held your forehead with one hand and clutched Kelly’s arm with the other. You were doing your best to ground yourself, but it was a slow, and almost hopeless, process.

Matt came back into the room as you started just dry heaving. He had a needle full of Zofran and an IV with a bag of fluids in the other. “Kelly.” Matt called, grabbing his attention for long enough to hand over the needle.

Kelly gave you the shot of Zofran, took the sick bag that Matt must of pulled out of his pocket and put it in your hand. Kelly guided you out of the stall and lifted you gently to sit you on the counter by the sink. Matt flushed the toilet before coming back to you and Kelly with the supplies from Brett in his arms. You had the sick bag under your chin and your forehead resting on Kelly’s shoulder. Every now and then, you would gag into the sick bag, causing your forehead to bump into Kelly’s collar bone, but he held you steady and comforted you through it.

“Sh Sh Sh. Breathe sweetheart.” Kelly whispered, kissing the crown of your head and rubbing your back. “It’s over. It’s okay.” Kelly turned his eyes to Matt in the mirror. Matt was chewing on his thumb nail and studying you. “What is it?” Kelly asked Matt, drawing Matt’s attention to him.

“There was this kid on the call.” Matt said, rubbing the back of his neck. “I think that’s what started this.”

You nodded into Kelly to confirm Matt’s suspicions. You were breathing a little slower now, practically melting into Kelly. You were exhausted and wanted nothing more than to go home and snuggle with your boys.

Kelly nodded and kissed your head again. Since Kelly was sure you were done, he offered you some water to rinse with and some mouth wash. Matt switcher places with Kelly then handed over the IV to let him get the line in, seeing as Matt was shaking from the adrenaline high he was coming down from and did not have steady hands at all. You have always been a hard stick to begin with, so Matt wanted to save you from the torture of him digging for a vein and just let Kelly do it.

You closed your eyes, turning your face into Matt’s neck while Kelly did his thing incase you opened your eyes. You knew you needed these fluids now, especially after that episode and with the shot you were given. You didn’t like it, but it had to be done. Plus, the faster you complied, the faster you could lay down.

After the IV was in and the fluids were started, Matt held the bag while Kelly helped you change out and get into some sweat pants. The boys led you to their office, which they now shared. They laid you down and Kelly set off to speak to Boden about the rest of shift.

Matt sat down next to your half asleep form, pushing the flyaways off of your face. “Better?” He whispered, looking you directly in the eyes.

You nodded and hummed your affirmation. You were exhausted. You were fighting to stay awake to see what the rest of the shift would bring.

Kelly walked back in a few minutes later and found Matt carding his fingers through your hair. “Hey. Chief said that he called subs in for all of us. We can go home after you finished the drip or stay and sleep.”

“It’ll be quieter at home.” Matt said, looking down at you again.

“I’m scared to sleep. I don’t want to see it.” You whispered, covering your face with your hands.

Matt sighed and started pulling your hands away from your face. “I know. We will be there though.” Matt soothed, rubbing your cheek with the pad of his thumb.

“Finish that and then we’ll go home. You and the baby need rest.” Kelly said, coming to sit next to you on the other side of the mattress.You nodded and reached for their hands, using them as your life lines.

——————————

TAG LIST:

@treehouse-mouse

@shadowmeadowsworld

@sorry-i-spaced

@zephyrmonkey

@allisonargent144

@amie134

@lane-rodgers-barnes

@pensfan5871

@dumb-fawkin-bitch

@marvel-and-chicago-fan

@daggersquadphantom

@100yroldteenagers

@senjoritanana

@celtic-shadow-wolf

@starset21

@mrspeacem1nusone

@wh0reforsmutstuff

@geekgirl1996

@emilyprentisswife

@one-chicago-writer

@jessewesmitchellfan

[hellodahliah]

son of the grim reaper: PROLOGUE

previous / beginning / next

ophelia: *sigh* auntie-... olive: oh please, don't start again! ophelia: but-... olive: i'll tell you when you're finished. ophelia: just a five-minute break that is all i ask for! olive: i swear all your generation is doing is whining. life is not without hardships, ophelia. but fine, you'll have five minutes. ophelia: whose grave are we digging? i mean i don't see a tombstone. olive: oh, ophelia... i was hoping you wouldn't have to find out like this... olive: it's your grave of course. ophelia: haha! y-you're joking, right? olive: no. olive: you really thought i'd die and leave my only beloved niece behind? ophelia: let me go! --- johnny: *whisper* hey, phi... ophelia: *incoherent mumbling* anjelo: i see that some people are too bored to stay awake during class, so i am concluding my very important lecture here. check our learning platform for information about the home assignment. - ophelia: i am so s-sorry, mr. morlind. this won't happen again! anjelo: apology accepted. but that is not why i asked you to stay behind. ophelia: o-okay? anjelo: have you thought about what you want to do after High School? ophelia: yeah, a bit. something creative... maybe. anjelo: you don't need to have a clear plan yet, but it'd be wise to start looking at different University programs and what kind of scholarships you can apply for. ophelia: yes. --- ripp: i am not even allowed to take the school bus, not like i would run away (i totally would) but he wants to be extra and pick me up with his military tank. johnny: what the actual fuck? ripp: yep, that's my life now. anyway it's just for this year, until he thinks you're finally gone. but jokes on him, i have decided to move out and follow you wherever you go. i'll sleep under a bridge if i have to, i don't fucking care. johnny: and will buck be ok with you leaving? ripp: pff, he can come too if he wants to and if you're fine with it. --- ophelia: what the fuck? he is literally isolating you. johnny: you think we can hang out at your workplace? ripp: about that... --- *indistinctive chatter* --- *school bell rings* ___ teacher: alright, that is it then. time to clean up! don't forget to write your name on your artwork! --- tank: nigmos. we need to talk! ophelia: fine, i have something i want to say to you too. tank: then tell me why the fuck my mom is buried in your psycho aunt's garden? ophelia: i have no idea what you're talking about. tank: don't bullshit me! did she kill her? johnny: hey, you better stay away from her! tank: *pushes johnny*

[racoon3lizabeth]

wolfstar band au ✮ word count: 936 ✮ not proofread

“Another question for Sirius,” the reporter said, clicking her pen and drumming it against her clipboard. Like many other reporters she seemed to be enraptured by his mere presence and forgets all of the questions she had so diligently prepared beforehand.

With a great loud slightly dramatic sigh Sirius leaned back into his chair. “Right, shoot.” He smiled, clasping his hands in his lap.

The reporter's eyes twinkled with glee and looked straight at him. Almost completely ignoring the other three band members.

“In your most recent album there’s a song in which your lyrics have been rumoured to be about someone specific. Is there really anyone special and who might that be?”

Sirius sent Remus a sideways glance. Fiddling with the silver rings on his fingers as he dared to look back at the nosy reporter. “Yes, there might be someone.” He replied.

“Oh?” She asked. “Who’s the lucky girl?”

All four of them quietened down. The only sound now being the reporters scribbling as she tried to catch up with everything that they had previously said.

“Well,” James cleared his throat. “Does it really matter?” He asked and hoped that maybe, just maybe, the reporter would get the hint.

But unfortunately not. She seemed completely oblivious to Sirius' certain preferences. She still kept looking at all of them expectantly, not wanting to intrude but knowing that it would make great headlines.

Remus' gaze darted over Sirius' hesitant face. How he kept biting his inner cheek and never stopped fiddling with his hands. If he could he would reach out and slowly, gently, intertwine their fingers. But he holds himself back and helps Sirius along the way instead.

“How do you know it’s a girl?” He questioned and narrowed his eyes at the reporter.

Her smile dropped immediately, glancing down at her clipboard and back up again. “Well, is it not a girl?” She asked, her voice laced with a fake sort of sweetness that slowly crawls under Sirius' skin.

Before any of the others can stop it from happening Sirius quickly does whatever his heart tells him to. He’s always been a sore loser and does whatever he can to win. And now he desperately needed to win the satisfaction of turning off the light in the reporter's lovesick eyes.

“No, no it’s not a girl actually.” He announced with a rapidly thumping heart.

Both Peters and James' heads jolted up to observe Sirius with panicked eyes, ready to intervene whenever they needed to. Whereas Remus remained in the same exact position; gazing down at his hands as a small smirk slowly spread over his lips.

“I- it’s not?” The reporter stuttered in bewilderment. “It’s not a girl?”

Sirius' actions sunk in as he heard his own words thrown back at him. But to his surprise he didn’t regret it. He’s nervous as hell, yes, but he couldn’t regret it. Why should he ever feel ashamed for the love he feels so deeply?

He shook his head which caused a few loose strands to fall down in his eyes. “No it’s not.” He mumbles. Avoiding her shocked eyes as the silence thickened in the small recording studio.

He cannot even fathom why they choose to have the interview in their recording studio. It’s too small and the smell of smoke which he usually loves is surprisingly nauseating.

“Oh uh- uhm okay." She trailed off and looked down at her clipboard to reread all of her questions.

‘What are your favourite lyrics from your new album?’

‘Is there something you’ve really improved in ever since the start of your career?’

‘What’s something you always bring on tour?’

No she couldn’t. All of the questions were so incredibly gray and boring compared to what she just accidentally revealed. She can’t switch the subject now. Sure, she’s incredibly disappointed that Sirius isn’t infatuated with her. But who does she think she is? He didn’t even know her name until a few minutes ago.

“I realise the complications of my question so you don’t have to answer it,” the reporter began and peered back up at the band. “But can you give us any hint of who it might be?”

Peter, who sat on Sirius left, gently nudged his shoulder. James followed along and smiled in encouragement and while Sirius really appreciated his friends' support there was only one person's opinion he wanted.

Sirius' eyes traced Remus calloused fingers. The scars and rings he’s kissed so many times. Especially the golden metallic band on Remus ring finger. He loves to kiss it and whisper affectionate words that no one else gets to hear. How the public doesn’t know about their relationship is beyond comprehension. But maybe it’s time to be a bit brave after all.

“C’mon,” Remus urged quietly and playfully poked Sirius' shoe clad foot with his own. “Say it.”

The lead singer chuckled and took a deep shaky breath. He won’t regret it and everything will turn out fine he repeated over and in his head. “It’s Remus,” he uttered, his voice just a bit too hushed for anyone to properly hear what he said. “Remus. It’s Remus.” He repeated a bit louder and for some unknown reason the reporter didn’t look as shocked this time.

“Remus,” she echoed and glanced at the bassist as if making sure he really exists. “You look lovely together.” She smiled and exchanged her sickly sweet fake smile for a more sincere one.

“Now,” she began to say before any of the band members had a chance to speak. “Where were we? Oh that’s right, what’s something you always bring on tour?”