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luminnara · 30 days

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Gladiator | Feyd Rautha x Reader

REQUEST: Feyd-Rautha fights in the arena, hoping to win your favor and maybe even your hand.

Warnings: violence

REQUESTS ARE OPEN!

Feyd-Rautha didn’t know why your face was the only one he seemed able to pick out of the crowd. Out of all the eligible daughters the Houses had thrown at him, you were the one he couldn’t get out of his head. Deep down, he knew he should consider himself lucky for the privilege to have a say in his marriage, but most of the heiresses he had encountered did little to interest him and he had grown more than bored of the whole ordeal.

Until he was presented with you.

He had known little of your family, and he hadn’t cared to learn more. You had been from far away, and your culture was probably far different from his own. Perhaps it was arrogance that had fueled his initial disinterest, his ego rearing its ugly head. He had seen you and assumed you were boring and prudish, based on your style of clothing, and had initially been beyond irritated when you were offered up before him. He had cursed his uncle the Baron, and nearly killed the nearest servant. He had wanted nothing more than to be as far away from you as possible, exhausted and annoyed after a week of meeting princess after princess, all of whom he had rejected.

Why, then, had he become intrigued by you? Had it been the way you looked at him with such boredom, as if he had nothing to offer you? Had it been the information that he was simply one in a long list of suitors you were slogging through, much in the way he had been for what felt like an age? Or had it been the sudden revelation that you had more in common with him than he had thought possible, and the sudden knowledge that if he wished to catch your eye, tradition dictated he must show you a spectacular fight and defeat every other man whose goal was your hand in marriage?

“It is the way of her people,” Rabban had shrugged, oblivious to the way Feyd’s world was slowly being turned on its head. “I have heard that they were fighting long before House Harkonnen built our first arena.”

Now, Feyd-Rautha was stalking back and forth through the sand, thinking of all the ways he could slaughter his competition. He was one of ten, ten suitors, none of whom were drugged or weak from starvation the way his quarry on Giedi Prime always was. As he glared at the opponents around him, he knew that you were watching from the stands, in a luxurious box with your parents and ladies in waiting, and when a glance in your direction confirmed his suspicions, he was overcome with the desire to kill for you.

He had never felt that before. He was plenty familiar with the urge to maim, to slice and tear, to take lives—but he had never wanted to do it for another person. His darlings, in a sense, garnered that from him when he killed servants to feed them…but this was different. That was a life taken as a gift and a means to spoil them. This was a fight to the death, a way to prove himself to you…and for some strange reason, he wanted—no, needed—to succeed.

“Today we gather in the ancestral arena of our great House to honor a tradition which we have kept alive for one thousand generations!” A voice boomed. “Today, the Great Houses send their sons to fight for the hand of my daughter, and should they be so lucky, one will win her favor!”

Feyd-Rautha glanced at his nearest competitor, a round-faced man who was far too old to be marrying you. He knew the man thought he was safe; they had all received a speech on the importance of not actually killing each other, but Feyd had had no interest in listening nor adhering to the rules. If he was to truly win your hand, he knew he must make a grisly spectacle of himself. He had gone so far as to fight shirtless, so as to show you his smooth, unscarred skin, and display his enemies’ blood upon his flesh.

“Now, warriors…do battle!”

You watched from above as the fight commenced.

“I like the looks of that Halleck boy,” your mother commented as she peered through her positively ancient opera glasses.

Your eyes found the one she spoke of and you sighed. “He favors his right leg. He will not last.”

Your father plopped down in the throne next to you, a hearty laugh booking from his chest. “That’s my girl. Ever the strategist, with the sharpest eye in the known universe. Tell us, then, who do you predict will win? We can make a bet on it.”

“I hardly think gambling is appropriate on today of all days.” Your mother shot him a glare.

He only laughed louder.

“I like the Harkonnen.” You said, watching as Feyd-Rautha drove a blade into another man’s shoulder.

Your mother made a tutting noise. “He is…”

“Bloodthirsty,” your father offered.

“Yes,” you said, somewhat transfixed. “He is.”

Your eyes followed Feyd-Rautha’s every move, glued to his form as he lithely parried and dodged his opponents’ attacks. He was a surprisingly welcome sight after the many suitors you’d turned your nose up at, and while he had initially bored you just as the rest had, there was something in his demeanor that had piqued your interest.

Upon meeting, you had both been irritated and more than ready to stay unmarried forever. You had heard that Feyd-Rautha had also been meeting potential suitors, and if the rumor mill was correct, he had nearly killed more than one of them. When you had first laid eyes upon the pale, hairless Harkonnen heir, you had immediately decided that you might give this one a chance; many of the others you had met had seemed ill suited, abhorred by the concept of fighting for your hand in an archaic ritual. Feyd-Rautha, however, had changed when he had heard, shifting from disinterested to focused, his dark eyes gleaming with excitement at the prospect of a duel.

Now, he was stalking through the sand below you, wielding wickedly sharp hunting knives as he attacked a competitor from behind. He wasn’t above fighting dirty, you noted, his blackened teeth bared as he head butted another man. Only six remained including him, the other four having given up or lying unconscious at the feet of their opponents.

“He’s going to kill someone!” Your father exclaimed, his voice gleeful.

“And what a diplomatic nightmare that will be,” your mother mumbled.

You weren’t sure if Feyd-Rautha had truly taken any lives so far that afternoon, but as he drove a knife into the gut of another fighter, you surmised that your mother may be spending the rest of her day smoothing things over with and paying off the families of some of these men.

You watched, smiling to yourself as they all fell, one by one, into groaning, bloodied heaps in the sand, until only one remained on his feet. Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen was the victor, as you had hoped he’d be, and as the crowd erupted into a roar of cheers, you stood.

Your parents watched you carefully.

“Are you certain?” Your mother asked.

“Do you have any objections?” You countered.

“…none whatsoever.”

You turned to your father. “And you, Father?”

He shrugged, leaning his chin on his hand. “I quite like the boy. He will make for an interesting match.”

“Then it is settled,” you sucked in a breath, steeling yourself before turning and walking to the stairs.

In the arena, Feyd-Rautha was drinking in the sounds of an entertained crowd. He could put on a show anywhere, it seemed, and if he had been at all concerned by leaving Giedi Prime to fight on your planet, they were long forgotten. His blood was still boiling, chest heaving as attendants began collecting his fallen foes, of whom more than a few sported serious, possibly life threatening injuries. And after he had struck each one down, he had glanced up to find you there, watching him.

The crowd hushed suddenly, and Feyd-Rautha saw that it was because you were approaching him, stepping over your battered suitors without so much as a glance down at them. Your eyes remained focused on him, never leaving, boring into his form as he straightened up and faced you.

“Feyd-Rautha,” you greeted him.

“Princess.”

“You fought well.”

“Thank you.”

You smirked at him. “You hope to gain my favor, do you not?”

“I had hoped for your token, yes,” he admitted, watching you with those dark, intelligent eyes.

“A token, or my hand?” You asked.

“I will take whatever you see fit to bless me with, princess.”

With a sly smile, you closed the gap between you, pressing a hand to his chest. He felt warmth there, and when you pulled away, the roar of the crowd returned and he looked down to see a crimson handprint on his skin.

“Congratulations, Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen,” you said, your voice cutting below the cheering of your people in the stands above. “We are now engaged.”

With that simple statement, you turned on your heel and left.

It was foolish to turn one’s back to a Harkonnen, especially Feyd-Rautha, but you both knew he would never do anything to you. Not now. Not when his eyes refused to leave your retreating form. Not when his heart thudded in his chest excitedly. Not when he knew he suddenly had a wife, one for whom he would kill anything and anyone.

#feyd rautha x reader #feyd rautha

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wonijinjin · 3 months

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in sickness and in health

author’s note: please take care of yourselves everyone! being sick is not fun. dedicating this to my dear @babyleostuff <3

synopsis: when you get food poisoning cheol is ready to sacrifice his night to take care of you.

word count: 1.0k | genre: fluff, comfort | pairing: cheol x gn! reader | warnings: mentions of throwing up, being sick, fever, exhaustion, bad mental health

it was around 12am when you realised something was wrong; you never really got sick, but you could feel it coming before it even happened; head pounding and shivers crawling up and down your spine, making you anxious. after a bit of panicking about why you felt this bad you calmed yourself down and went back to scrolling through social media on your phone, scared of waking and troubling the man next to you. seungcheol was already asleep by that time, being extremely tired from working since 3am, having been to several music show recordings and dance practices. you found him so peaceful as he slept and you were so glad to see him rest after many days of hard work. however as the minutes went by while looking at your phone you could sense an increasing nauseating feeling in your stomach, not being able to focus on the blogpost you were reading anymore, being too occupied with trying to make it stop and squirming under the blankets of your cozy king sized bed to make it more bearable. as if on cue to the peak of your struggles cheol stirred in his sleep next to your helpessly thrashing form, turning to you, his sleepy frame trying to process the cause of your distress. “what’s wrong, my love?” he asked, voice barely above a whisper. “don’t worry, nothing. go back to sleep.” you tried to sound as convincing as you could. he didn’t buy it. “love, i know something is up. tell me, please?” he begged, more alert when he saw how your protests were interrupted by a weak sob. “i think i am gonna throw up cheol.” you mumbled with a terrified look on your face, trying to stay perfectly still so your upset stomach could get some relief. seungcheol first thought that you were trying to pull a prank on him since you never got sick, but when he looked at your features closer he realised how pale you looked, and how sweat was glistening on your skin. “you sure? like right now?” he sat up in no time as the question left his mouth, ready to take you to the bathroom to let out whatever was making you feel so miserable. you didn’t have time to answer him whatsoever as you bolted towards the mentioned room, getting to the toilet just in time for the agonising pain and suffering of the next few hours to begin. in your hurry you had a hopeless attempt to lock the door in order to shut cheol out; you hated if he saw you in any other state than your most perfect one, if he saw your imperfections, how you felt unwell sometimes or how you struggled with life from time to time. he always scolded you for thinking this way, but you couldn’t stop it; you wanted to be his strong partner, someone who he could rely on whenever he needed to. “i am coming in.” you heard him say and suddenly you felt a warm hand on your back and another one taking your hair out of your sweaty face, snapping you out of your feverish daze. “i am here, you are okay, love. breathe for me please. that’s it, good. let it all out. don’t worry i am here.” you could hear cheol’s voice through your eardums, blood pumping in your veins with much more speed than ever. seungcheol held you close to him as you spat in the bowl one last time, making sure you were really done before placing you on his lap, your knees no longer hitting the cold tiles of the bathroom, only feeling his warmth surrounding you. “my poor baby.” his voice was low and hurt while he kissed your forehead, frowning upon sensing how your skin burned under his touch. “you are burning up. you definitely have a fever my dear.“ he announced, but you could barely register his voice and words; you were utterly drained, barely able to keep your head up straight.

cheol of course took note of this, gently guiding you to lean into him even more while he got comfortable on the floor, cradling you into his chest. “i know you don’t feel good my love. do you know how did this happen?” he wondered with concern laced in his words. you slightly shifted in his arms, looking up at him. “i think i might have food poisoning, cheol.” he cooed at you, kissing the top of your head, rocking you from side to side as you whimpered in pain. “it’s okay love. it will be over soon i promise.” he chanted softly in an attempt to calm you down as exhaustion took over you, the high temperature making you shake with chills no matter how close seungcheol kept your body to his. “love, you with me?” he questioned after a few minutes of silence, but didn’t get a reply; you fell asleep fast, totally knocked out from the sudden wave of late night sickness. he was relieved to see that your immune system was trying to get that much needed sleep to heal, although he was concerned about the effects of not taking medication before your slumber; he didn’t have the heart to wake you so he let you rest anyways.

he never stopped holding you through the night, not even when he moved you to the bedroom and got a cold towel to put on your head, moving a trash can beside your bed just in case, or when he stayed up all night to watch over your distressed form, wishing that you would get better by the morning, kissing your cheek from time to time to let you know that he was there, that he was gonna take care of you no matter what.

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sttoru · 6 months

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♯ 𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐈𝐒 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄.

love: |luv| - n. 1. an intense affection for another person based on familial or personal ties; 2. a deep tenderness, affection and concern felt for a person with whom one has a relationship with. featuring . . . toji fushiguro x fem!reader.

02.34AM. . . toji grumbles some profanity under his breath as he walks into your bedroom, only to find you already asleep, hugging your plushies — one between your knees, the other held tightly to your chest.

“hah. ain’t ya the one that said you’d stay up f’me?” the assassin whispers towards no one in particular. he removes his black shirt and disregards it on the floor with a low grunt — letting his sweaty skin breathe after the job he completed.

toji walks towards your side of the bed and hovers over your body that was curled up on the covers. you seemed to have fallen asleep without it being your intention, he guesses by the fact that you weren’t under the covers despite it being chilly.

and by the sight of your phone on the carpet beneath you. probably slipped from your hand.

“. . . y’re weird.”

the words spill from his lips in a quiet whisper. toji just cannot fathom it; why would you go through such lengths to stay up and await his return? you were clearly tired and yet still tried your best to keep awake to greet him — only for your exhaustion to catch up on you.

it’s the intention that counts, of course, but why?

toji crouches down next to the bed, now at eye level with you. his callused thumb brushes against your cheekbone, though his soft touch fades as fast as it could be felt.

‘why?’ the question echoes through his head again. toji sighs in frustration. he couldn’t come up with an answer to the many questions forming in his head.

he never had someone do this for him willingly. hell, the man never had someone love him so unconditionally. he still doesn’t know why you do.

he’s always considered himself a horrible person — one that didn’t deserve an ounce of love. nor one that could ever be pictured in a romantic relationship.

and yet there you were. accepting toji as he was, not caring about his occupation nor his distant personality and the fact that he didn’t know how to love properly.

toji wishes he could understand his feelings better. he knows he has an undeniable attraction to you — the way you laugh, the way you carry yourself, the way you seem so. . . confident in showing your affection to him and the others around you — it was intriguing. it’s like you have it all figured out; even though he was the older one in your relationship and he hasn’t

“tch, this shit ‘s too complicated — it’s makin’ my head burst.” toji, once again, complains out loud to no one in particular. his finger flicks against your forehead ever so gently in response to his internal frustrations. his piercing eyes take in the sight of you — the sight of you being so vulnerable.

that’s one more thing toji didn’t understand; why you were so trusting of him when you knew of his job. weren’t you scared of him? weren’t you scared of the possibility of him harming you in your sleep?

maybe he was projecting. toji is a light sleeper. always has been. he doesn’t like being asleep, because it meant he was an easy target for any who intended to harm him.

it took him a few months into your relationship to be able to trust you fully — to take a nap whenever you’re around. he was slowly yet surely healing and you were becoming his safe space. which he didn’t actually think he’d ever have in his harsh life.

toji eventually finds himself sitting down on the floor, wanting to live this moment a bit longer. his rough hand finds yours and he gently grazes your skin with his. his head lands on the mattress, his eyes closing as his brain decides that it was probably okay when you were the only one around;

that it was okay to rest. that it was okay to be vulnerable. that it was okay to be himself. that it was okay to receive affection. that it was okay to be weak. that it was okay to heal.

that it was okay. . . to love.

#sttoru writes.#jjk x reader #toji fushiguro x reader #toji x reader #jjk fluff #jjk x you #toji x you #toji x y/n #jjk x y/n #toji fic #jjk fic #jujutsu kaisen x reader

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sixosix · 7 months

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i. summary it was not your intention to seduce lyney, really, he was just already so very weak for you.

lyney being a sucker for you: the drabble

ii. warnings wc 700, this drabble has been in my drafts since i finished sleight of hand LOL. A Little Steamy, but nothing happens, I LOVE FLUSTERED LYNEY!!

“And that’s a wrap! Thank you, everyone; it all went smoothly as planned. Pat yourselves on the back.”

A chorus of exhausted yet elated cheers rings backstage, not enough to rival the crowd outside, yet it is still much more satisfying to hear. Some of the crew went up to Lyney to pat his shoulder, congratulating him for once again another successful show. Lyney takes it all with a dazzling grin and unwavering confidence. Why, of course. We’ve been working day and night for this.

You ceremoniously step forward and give his side a gentle nudge. Lyney responds with a grin as he reciprocates the gesture. “That was a new one. Did you and Lynette practice that secretly to surprise us?”

“A magician never reveals his secrets,” Lyney says, ironically knowing that he’d have to teach his crew about this as you mustn’t repeat the same trick twice.

Lyney spots his sister resting against a wall a few feet later. “You still want to buy that dessert, Lynette?”

Lynette’s eyes flicker to Lyney, then to you. “I’ll just meet you two there,” she tells Lyney, then walks off without waiting for goodbye.

“Huh, well.” People continue to filter out of the backstage, leaving you and Lyney alone in a dimly lit room, with props scattered all around and taking up enough space to have you and Lyney pressed against each other to not stumble over any of them. “Mon amour, how’d you enjoy the show?”

“It was splendid, of course. I especially liked the part where Lynette stole the spotlight—my favorite part of every show.”

“I understand, but be more nice to the star of the show, will you?” He’s deflated like a popped balloon. “I know you know how much work I put in to perfect everything.”

You laugh, brushing a stray strand of hair away from his face. “You think I pay attention to you that much?”

Lyney huffs. “You don’t have to be so coy. It’s my job to steal your attention, isn’t it? You’re also my assistant; surely you’ve learned a thing or two about magic tricks?”

“Of course I have,” you cede. “I’ve been watching it all, Lyney, don’t be teased so easily.”

“Well, it just seems to me you haven’t really been paying attention at all,” he feigns a pout.

“Really? Is this a test?” Lyney casts you a sly glance, and you return it with a scoff. “I’ve seen how you deceive them with your actions, distract them with your hands.” You nudge his chest with two fingers, and in the silence, you can hear how Lyney swallows air at the proximity. “You’ve got quite the skill with them.”

“You’ve been watching them pretty closely,” Lyney says quietly.

“Isn’t that the point? It just proves how talented of a magician you are.”

His face is a comical shade of red. He’s weak like that.

“What I learned while being part of your troupe, however, is that I could be saying anything, and my audience wouldn’t really care.” You trail your fingers up, and up, slowly, and Lyney’s breath all but hitches once you reach his neck. “Because I’m making you watch my hands—bring all your attention to what I do and not what I say.”

“Yeah,” Lyney agrees absentmindedly, like a hypnotized man—the irony.

And it’s then you realize that he isn’t looking at your hand at all. His eyes are gazing intensely right below your nose—entranced by how your lips move to mouth your words. You suppose that it still counts as a distraction.

Your fingers reach out to cup his chin, leveling him with a look of disbelief. “Lyney?”

His entire face is a tomato, and half-words are caught in the back of his throat. He gapes at you and looks as if he’s at war with himself.

You hold back a laugh. “I’m surprised you weren’t so critical to a newbie. Did I do that well?”

“That wasn’t fair, and you know it,” he replied weakly after a moment of finding his voice. He then hides his face behind his fingers. “Don’t go around doing that. You can’t try to captivate an audience already so enamored with you.”

“Ah…” Now you feel flustered. “Let’s—Let’s just go meet up with Lynette.” You can’t handle staying in this room for another minute.

#genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact x you #lyney x reader #lyney x you #lyney x y/n #genshin x you #x reader

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tasteleeknow · 1 year

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ZIPPER

PAIRING: minho x fem!reader GENRE: smut. fluff. established relationship. CONTENT: 18+ only. shy reader. marking. desperation. mutual obsession. unprotected intercourse. biting. body worship. overstimulation. mention of violence. oral (m. rec). WORD COUNT: 4.3k

NOTE: yeah it’s my birthday tomorrow and i wrote this as a gift to myself. @lino-nyangi and @tasteracha encouraged this. no other comment at this time.

SUMMARY: when your boyfriend asks you what you want for your birthday, only one thing comes to mind. you want to dress him in an outfit of your choosing.

PART ONE | DRABBLE: SWEAT | PART TWO

You’re backed up against the wall when the door opens, mentally preparing yourself for seeing him in the outfit you’d picked out. He’d laughed as you’d explained what you wanted for your birthday, eyes on the floor at the embarrassment of it all. You wanted to go out and pick an outfit and have him wear it for you. He only ever wore baggy pants, t-shirts and hoodies. You love him in whatever he wore but he never showed off all the work he’d put in at the gym. Despite his relentless teasing at your request, he’d agreed. Of course he agreed. He always did. He might act like everything was the biggest inconvenience he’d ever faced in his life, but he hadn’t turned you down once since you’d been together. You’d learned that’s just how he was. He never wanted anyone to know how much he cared.

He looks up at you the moment the bedroom door shuts behind him, tugging his pants up his waist a little. You press your lips together as he looks at you expectantly.

“Well?” he prompts.

You say nothing, taking in the sight of him in the tight, black, short sleeve shirt. It clings to him just like you’d imagined. He’d whined and thrown his head back as you’d measured him a few weeks earlier, slipping the measuring tape around his bare chest and then around his biceps. You wanted to get this right. He’d made you give him a back massage in return for all his saintly patience. It was worth it now you’re taking in the results. Your eyes trail down his matching black pants to his big black boots, you can't make yourself regret the money you’d spent on them: despite it being the most you’d spent on shoes in a long time. Your cheeks warm as you fail to meet his eyes again, keeping your gaze on his boots as he makes his way over to you.

“No comment?” he questions. You can hear the smirk in his voice. He was in his comfort zone, despite the clothes unlike anything he’d tried before. You had always been a little timid, overwhelmed easily. He approached the world very differently, self assured and confident. Only the people closest to him ever got to know his weak points, his soft centre and secret insecurities.

He tilts your chin up when he reaches you, forcing you to meet his eyes. “Disappointed?” he asks, well aware you weren’t. You knew he enjoyed it when you got shy, it boosted his ego.

“It’s pretty.”

He grins, tracing his finger down your neck to your clavicle. “That’s it?”

Your eyes drop to the zipper running down his chest. “You look nice. You look… better than I imagined. Thank you,” you say, offering him a small smile.

“This is all you wanted? For me to put some clothes on? I was hoping to spend the day without any at all.”

That’s how he’d asked to spend his birthday; locked in your bedroom until you’d been so exhausted you’d both passed out. “You think your dick is a gift?” you question.

His hand moves to your throat, fingers resting gently against your skin. “Only because you whine my name so sweetly when it’s inside you,” he answers, one corner of his mouth pulling up slightly as his eyes drop to your lips. He was lucky his ego only made him hotter. Still, it was fun to tease him.

“You think it’s special? A dick is a dick.”

His finger presses a little into your skin as he moves a little closer. “Oh, really?” he asks sweetly, a little condescension in his tone. “Is that why you get all shy on me? Even after living together for a year? Hm?”

“That’s just how I am.”

He shakes his head slightly, lips ghosting over yours. “I don’t think so, baby. I think it’s worse with me. I think you get all shy because you’re obsessed with me…” his lips brush yours as he speaks, breath tickling your skin. “Isn’t that right?”

You’re struggling to focus on his words, head tilting forward a little in an attempt to capture his lips. He only pulls away, keeping you pressed to the wall easily. “Answer me,” he whispers.

You blink as you attempt to regain your senses, reaching up to take his hand from your throat and intertwining your fingers instead. You find yourself staring at his lips again, watching as he huffs out a short breathy laugh. “Why’d you want me to wear this, hm? Can you answer that?” he asks.

Your eyes drop to the zip running down his chest. It feels involuntary and your eyes flick back up to his face so quick you’re hardly aware of the action yourself. He notices anyway, his lips pulling into a self-satisfied smirk. He reaches up to tug the zipper a little, moving it up and down slightly as he watches your expression. He lifts the hand intertwined with yours, pressing the back of your hand into the wall above your head. You’ve completely lost control of your breathing, uneven and much heavier than normal. You were easy to read. A stranger would be able to read your thoughts, but Minho? He knew you better than anyone else alive. You may as well have been screaming your internal commentary in his face.

“You wanna do it for me, baby? Tug it down a little?” he asks sweetly, lips hovering over yours again. When you lean forward, he doesn’t pull away this time, letting you press a little of your desperation into him. He hardly reacts, keeping your hand above your head as you moan against his lips. Your other hand moves to the back of his head, an attempt to ensure he doesn’t move away from you again until you're satisfied. It’s silly, the idea that you’d ever be satisfied, that you’ll at some point have had enough of him. You imagine pulling back, tapping him on the shoulder and announcing you’re all done. You giggle against his mouth.

“What?” he asks.

“I think you’re right,” you answer, a little breathless already.

“Mm?”

You don’t answer, attempting to pull him back towards you again instead. He takes your other hand in response, pinning you against the wall completely. “Right about what?” he asks, unsatisfied with your lack of response. He knows what you meant. You know he knows. He just wanted you to say it.

“What you said before,” you mutter, keeping your eyes off his own.

“I think you should say it,” he grins. “Say it and I’ll let you take over. I’ll let you unzip me.”

You can’t help looking into his eyes, big and brown as he waits for you to confess. If only he knew why you were so hesitant to say it. Sure, it was embarrassing. But it was more than that. You’d always felt a little like you loved him more. You were okay with it, or… you’d thought you were anyway. He loved you enough to stay, and that should have been enough. But confessing it to his face? Confessing that you felt like you were practically obsessed with him in a way he couldn’t possibly return? Your heart thumps hard against your chest at the thought of it.

His lips press to your forehead as your mind races, hands still held above your head. “I know it,” he whispers. “Whether you say it or not. That’s one of the things… one of the things I love. I fucking know it all, baby. You can’t hide from me.”

The way he’s leaning over you now causes the silver zipper to dangle directly in front of your face. You're sick of all this talk, especially when he’s dressed like this. With your hands occupied there’s only one plan of action that fills your mind. You duck a little, avoiding his head as you lean forward and catch the cold, silver zipper between your teeth. His chest moves with his laughter, then you’re tugging, pulling it down until a large portion of his chest is free. When you lean back again you don’t even look up at his face, eyes taking in the newly visible section of his smooth chest. You hadn’t been fighting him at all so far. You never did, letting him pin you to walls, to mattresses, move you around whichever way he pleased. It was your dynamic.

That’s why he isn’t expecting it, when you tug your hands free and practically lunge at him, wrapping your arms around his neck. He laughs as he stumbles back a step. Then he’s turning you around so he can use the wall as support while you climb him. Your lips are on his neck before his back has hit the wall, attempting to suck marks into his skin. He was usually the one doing it to you: marking you. He liked pulling your scarf down a little as you waited for the bus, inspecting some of the hickies he’d left on you the night before. “Okay, you like the clothes,” he laughs. “I get it.” His hands support your thighs as you cling to him.

He’s quiet as you work, even when you begin nipping at his skin. It’s satisfying, sucking and biting at him. You should do this more often, you tell yourself. When you tug the shirt aside a little to bite gently into his shoulder he drops his head back against the wall with a small thud. It spurs you on, completing the same treatment to the other side before dropping your legs back to the floor.

His chest has flushed a little since you climbed him, a pretty red colour starting at his neck and disappearing into his shirt. You press your hand to the centre of his chest as he lifts his head from the wall and looks down at you with a small slightly dazed smile. A single strand of hair falls across his forehead. You’d helped him style his hair before leaving him to get dressed. He rarely wore it up like this, off his forehead.

“I meant I’m obsessed with you,” you confess before you can overthink it, reaching up to thread your fingers into his hair. “When I said you were right. I meant about me being obsessed.”

His grin widens as he wraps his arms around you and pulls you against him. “Yeah?”

You nod, tracing your finger down his nose and then over his lips, ending at his chin. “Don’t hurt me, please,” you whisper, suddenly feeling incredibly vulnerable. He knew the power he had now.

“Why would I do that?” he asks, looking genuinely puzzled.

You shrug. “You might stop liking me.”

“No,” he answers simply.

“No?”

“No,” he repeats. “You wanna go grab a knife and stab me in the leg and then ask me if I still like you?”

You roll your eyes. “No.”

“Good, that’d hurt.”

You wrap your hands around the back of his neck, interlocking your fingers. “You’re stupid.”

“Is it embarrassing? To be obsessed with someone so stupid?”

“Yes.”

He grins. “You better stop then.”

Your eyes flick across his face. “I can’t.”

His smile softens a little before falling off his face completely. He suddenly looks serious, almost solemn. It catches you off guard. Before you can question him he’s tugging your mouth to his, distracting you with his soft lips. It works like a mind wiping spell, lulling you into a blissed out state that only breaks when he finally releases you.

Your finger brushes his zipper, reminding you of the clothes he was wearing. You take a small step back so you can take in the sight of him again. His chest is still a little red and you can just make out the marks you’ve left all over his neck. You want to make more.

He’s still as you move in again and tug the zipper down a little more. You move slowly, wanting to savour it. Your mind drifts to when you can ask him to wear it again. Anytime, you remind yourself. You could count the time’s he’d refused something you’d asked of him on one hand. You press your palms to his chest, sliding them into his shirt until you brush over his nipples. He’s warm, despite the low temperature of the apartment. You drop your head to his shoulder, hands slipping around his sides to rest on his back.

“I’m being very patient,” he says after a moment. “Are you going to keep feeling me up for another hour?”

“It’s my birthday.”

He sighs dramatically. You lift your head so you can see his face. “Is it really that bad?” you ask.

His lips press together into a straight line and two little lumps appear at the corners of his mouth. “Yes,” he answers, unconvincingly. You pull your hands from his shirt and take a small step back.

“Alright, I’ll stop then.”

He reaches for the zipper and tugs it all the way down, letting each side of the shirt fall open. “It’s your birthday,” he says. “So I'll let you continue.”

“No, no. I don’t wanna do anything you’re not enjoying.” You nod towards the kitchen. “You hungry?”

He steps towards you. “Continue,” he demands, no room in his tone for argument.

You wait a moment, letting him fret. Then you move. You nudge him back into the wall with a palm to his chest then trail your fingers from his collar bones down to the waistband of his pants, then back up again. You could lose yourself in this, touching him. Now that you’ve said it, confessed to him how you feel, it feels less heavy. It feels natural even. How could you not feel that way? When he made you laugh like he did… when he looked like this…

You find yourself pressing your lips to his pec, hand gripping his bicep to balance you as you trail messy kisses down his torso. You stop occasionally to leave marks, from sucking, biting, any mark you can leave against his skin feels like an accomplishment. This is mine, they say. Minho doesn’t seem to mind, one of his arms tanging in your hair at some point.

You eventually end up on your knees, looking up at him for permission as you play with another zipper, the one on his pants. “You haven’t marked me up enough?” he asks, his tone a little condescending again. You fucking loved when he spoke like that. His tone so sickly sweet and still so full of ego.

You shake your head and he reaches down, tugging his zipper down and dropping his pants before you can react. You can see him through his underwear, begging to be freed. He twitches a little as you brush over him when reaching for the waistband. Then you pause. His hips push off the wall when you take your hands away. You don’t look up, dropping your eyes to his thighs instead. Just a few marks, you tell yourself before attaching your lips to his skin. You start with his inner thighs, kissing and sucking your way up to the hem of his underwear where they wrap around the tops of his thighs. This wasn’t new to you. Just the other week you’d given him this treatment at the side of the salt water pool as he’d dangled his legs in the water. You’d taken in the sight of his swim shorts stuck to his skin, wet from his swim, and found yourself practically worshipping him—standing in the water between his legs as you kissed over his thighs.

By the time you finally tug his underwear down his legs, you can tell he’s close to snapping, to taking control. He wasn’t used to letting you have your way for this long. But then you’re kissing his tip, tasting the precum that leaks from his slit, and he forgets his impatience—a small gasp escaping his lips. His thighs are where you rest your hands. You can feel every tense of his muscles like this. You’re just preparing to sink down the length of him when he’s suddenly tugging you back and falling over you, pressing you into the floorboards. His mouth is on yours before you even process where you find yourself: on your back on your living room floor. He’s clearly had enough. The zipper on his shirt tickles your skin where your tank top rides up your stomach.

“Want me inside now? Tell me,” he says, barely pulling his lips from yours long enough to get the words out.

You hum in response, pushing at his chest until he detaches from you. “On your back,” you gasp. His brows pull a little together in confusion. He was rarely under you. Still, he obeys, settling himself on the floor beside you.

His pants are bunched around his calves, too difficult to remove with his boots still on. You kinda of like the idea of it, of him being inhibited a little. He’s a little vulnerable like this. Usually you loved the dynamic you had, his dominant role in bed making you feel protected and wanted. But something had burst free along with the confession of the depth of your feelings. You hadn’t realised you’d been holding anything else back. Not until now. You tug your cotton shorts down your legs and climb over him, pressing your palms to his chest as you settle yourself on his thighs. The open shirt frames his chest and biceps perfectly. You’re only running your hands over him for 30 seconds or so before he’s whining.

“Enough. Take me inside now.”

“It’s my birthday. Not yours.”

“You haven’t fondled me enough?”

You scrunch your nose, huffing out a small laugh. “Fondled?”

He gestures to where your palms rest over his pecs. “What else would you call this?”

“Admiring.”

He rolls his eyes. “You haven’t admired me enough?”

You shake your head, smiling. “No.”

“Get on with it then,” he says, a little strain in his voice.

You flick your eyes down to his cock. It’s twitching a little against his stomach. You brush your fingers up the length of him, fascinated. He grabs your wrist before you reach the head. “Don’t touch unless you want this to end.”

You stick out your bottom lip a little. “But it’s my birthday.”

He releases you. “Fine, you want me to cum on my stomach? Go ahead.” It did sound nice, seeing him lose it all over himself before you’d even fucked him. But he was right. You wanted him to fill you. You take him in your grasp and lift your hips off him so you can shuffle forward a little until your entrance rests over the tip. You take in the sight of him one last time, his flushed chest, his hair–a little messier than when you’d started—, the way the black shirt frames his biceps. Then you lower yourself, holding your breath as he stretches you out. His hips rise off the floor a little, like he can’t wait the few seconds it takes you to sink to his base.

You both still when you’re full, taking in the feeling of being as close to each other as it was possible to be. It’s the first time he’s been inside you since your confession. It feels freeing. Like you can let loose completely, let your mind slip and your body take over; hold nothing back. His lips part as you begin lifting yourself off him and sinking down again, slow at first.

You can’t help resuming where you’d left off, pressing your palms to his chest and admiring the way his pinkish skin looks between your fingers.

It isn’t long before his instincts take over, grasping your hips so he can move you to meet his hips as he thrusts up into you. You take in his expression as he uses you, rutting up into you. He was desperate much quicker than usual. He really hadn’t been lying. He must’ve been close to losing it before you’d even begun.

You watch his ears redden to match his chest and his lips. You fall forward to kiss him as he continues moving inside you. You keep your lips on his even as he loses focus, unable to match your kisses. You swallow down the noises he makes, the groans, the tiny sounds that almost sound like whimpers. It’s in moments like this that you feel maybe it’s possible he feels almost as intensely as you do. But then you remind yourself he’s just feeling good physically. That he could feel this way with anyone.

His eyes flutter closed as he stills. He hasn’t cum yet. He takes a few deep breaths before opening his eyes again. You can’t resist sitting back and lifting off him before sinking back down slowly, watching his expression as he tries to prevent himself from filling you. “Stop,” he gasps. “Fuck, stop.” You do.

You wait for him to catch his breath, chest rising and falling deeply. His ears are still pink and you resist the urge to lean forward and bite one of them.

“Why…” he starts, before pausing and taking one more deep breath. “Why are you doing this to me?”

You frown. “Doing what?”

He sits up, cock still buried inside you as he grasps the hair at the back of your head. His eyes flick over your face as his mouth opens and closes, like he’s struggling to find the words he wants to say. You’re unused to him being lost for words. It’s a little unsettling. Something must be wrong.

“Stop looking at me like that,” he snaps.

You attempt to wipe any expression from your face, waiting for whatever this was to pass. One minute you’re riding him on your living room floor, ready to feel him fill you with his cum. The next you’re attempting to dissect whatever the fuck he was attempting to say right now.

“We started living together a year ago today,” he says.

“...yes.”

“A year…” he repeats, almost like he’s talking to himself this time.

“Is something wrong?”

“I thought it’d pass,” he mutters.

“What would?” you ask, tucking a little hair behind his ear.

“Feeling like this. All fucking itchy and… desperate. Like if I let go of you or leave the apartment, you’ll just… disappear.”

You frown, attempting to process what he was saying. He almost sounded angry. Like you’d done something wrong. Or he had? His eyes flick across your face and then he sighs, releasing his grasp on your hair and falling down onto his back again.

You lay yourself down onto his chest, his cock slipping out of you in the process. “You don’t wanna live together anymore?” you ask.

His hands move to grab at your hips, attempting to lift you up again. You let him align his cock with your entrance before sinking back down. You resume your position over his chest, cradling his face in your palms. He squeezes his eyes shut for a moment before looking at you again. “I wanna live here,” he breathes. “Right fucking here. Buried inside you like this.”

“You’re confusing me.”

He grunts as he pins you to his chest with his arms and fucks up into you hard. “Need it,” he mutters between thrusts. “Fucking need you.”

“You have me,” you soothe. “I told you I was fucking obsessed with you. You have me.”

He sighs, expression relaxing as he rolls his cock into you. It catches you by surprise when he suddenly lets out a drawn out moan and fills you, hips stuttering into you. Something about the way he finishes, the words it had taken to finally push him over the edge. It clicks into place, what he was trying to say. He feels the same. You sit back, watching him attempt to catch his breath as you start bouncing on him. His eyes flutter open as a high whine escapes his throat. You’d never done this before, kept using him after he’d finished. He’s clearly unprepared, throwing his arm over his eyes as his hips rise weakly off the floor. You practically shake as you cum, clenching around his sensitive cock and falling forward onto his chest.

“Fuck,” he gasps out.

His blushed ear catches your eye and you muster just enough energy to take it between your teeth briefly.

“Say it,” you murmur once you release him. “Say what you mean.”

His arms wrap around you, holding you against his chest, now sticky with sweat. “Do I need to say it?” he says, completely breathless.

“It’s my birthday,” you whisper.

His hands move to your head, lifting your face from his neck. “I love you,” he says, “It scares me how much.”

You’re pretty sure you understand him. That he meant something different to the previous time’s he’d said he loved you. There was something about his voice, a tiny wobble in the final syllable that convinced you maybe you weren’t alone in this.

“We’re keeping the shirt,” you say, offering him a small smile.

He laughs, letting you fall back into his shoulder. “I dunno if I can survive what it does to you.”

“You can pick an outfit for me?” you offer.

He’s quiet and it isn’t until you’ve both fully caught your breaths that he speaks again. “Anything?”

You lift your head and peck him on the lips. “Anything.”

He smiles.

please reblog and share your thoughts. caption, tags, replies, or ask box, i read it all. feedback is what motivates me to write more!

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cheeseceli · 8 months

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Sides of SKZ they only show around their s/o

Pairing: ot8!skz × gn!reader (individually)

Genre: fluff and maybe a little bit of angst

A/n: idk if that makes sense and I'm sorry if it happens to be repetitive but ! I liked to write it so yeah. As always, not proofread

Bang Chan - He's Reckless

Being the eldest sibling, eldest member and the leader of stray kids, Chan became pretty much a parental figure for many. He's always looking out for everybody, making sure everything is okay and dealing with any problem. Don't get him wrong, he loves his job and the people in his life, but sometimes it's exhausting to take care of everything. When he met you though, everything changed. He feels that he can let go. He can be reckless and ask for attention some times. Because, for once, there's someone taking care of him.

Lee Know - He's scared

Usually, he is a confident and even cocky guy. With you though, he is scared. Scared that he might lose you. Scared that his job or personality might scare you. Scared that someone out there is better than him and you'd soon find out. He can't bear to lose you, he doesn't want to imagine a life without you in it. So he'll fight each one of his fears if that means you'll be with him till the very end.

Changbin - He doesn't care

I feel like he always wants to give people the right impression. He wants to say the right thing, behave the right way and hope people will be always satisfied. But suddenly he doesn't care that much anymore. Because he already managed to impress you and you're more than satisfied. Above all of that, you love him. People's opinions are not that important after all.

Hyunjin - He's aware

Always an artist, he knew how to appreciate the beauty in the world since a young age. But since he fell for you every moment seems like an epiphany. The autumn leaves are beautiful, falling with grace. The old lady talking to a kid brings tears to his eyes for an unknown reason. He realises how the breeze is refreshing and how he loves you dearly. He thinks for a second that maybe you're the one who brought life to this world, and he is so happy that he can see all this beauty when he's with you.

Han - He doesn't think

Most of the time, he's too self conscious about his actions and his words, like he needs to be super cautious with everything. Self doubt and overthinking is part of his routine at this point, except when you're with him. You're his safe place. Whenever you're with him, he just does or says whatever he thinks and is never scared you'll judge him, because he knows you never would.

Felix - He's protective

He has a kind nature. He usually doesn't look up for confrontation and is always gentle. But then you came to his life as the most precious treasure he ever saw and now he wants to protect it. Because you're the light of his life and he'll fight anything and anyone if that means you'll be safe. He would happily be your knight in a shining armour if you asked him.

Seungmin - He's vulnerable

Most people only see his "mean" personality or how he doesn't show a lot of affection towards others. We all know he actually is really caring but when it comes to you he's also vulnerable. He doesn't care if one can perceive him as "weak", and he's not scared of oversharing by accident. When he's with you, he's made of glass, but he doesn't mind as he knows you'd never break him.

I.N - He's perfeccionist

You're the best thing to ever happen to him and he is aware of that. He wants to give his all to you and he wants you to be treated like royalty. So he is always trying his best to make sure you're treated like one. He always wants everything to be perfect, because he believes that perfect is still so little compared to what you truly deserve.

Feedbacks and reblogs are always appreciated!

Dividers by @cafekitsune

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ghoul-bonez · 9 months

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~To You He Feels Like Home~

(Neteyam x Fem! Na’vi! Reader)

Summary: You were always a wild child, literally and figuratively. You were raised by the forest and by the creatures that lived within it, and you would never want it any other way, but when you were discovered by another Na’vi you are overcome with curiosity although the animals that raised you always warned you about the outsiders.

Word Count: 5.1k

Author’s Note: This is my longest oneshot to date, at 5.1k words & 11 google docs pages, and I’ve been working on it for weeks now… Hopefully you guys will like it :D This fic was inspired by @imeanwhynotbruv ‘s Mowlie! Spider AU which I LOVE!!! Very excited for y’all to read :)

~Last - Next~

~Series Masterlist~

~Main Masterlist~

To You He Feels Like Home

You were always wild, even as a young child. Part of that could be attributed to who was raising you, how you were being raised, and part of it was because of your personality. It came down to nurture versus nature, or nurture and nature.

You were wild by nurture, raised by the Great Mother, by her forest, and by the animals that inhabited it. In particular there was a mother palulukan who had taken you into her den with her two cubs. She was your protector, your teacher, your mother. She loved you, and that was all you needed.

You were wild by nature, always bouncing around, never able to sit still. You were fierce and strong, stubborn at times, and intelligent as could be, which you used to your advantage. It was good for your survival, but exhausting to your mother palulukan, and the other animals who had taken you under their wings to teach you different survival skills.

They had all had a part in your upbringing, every animal teaching you something different. Their lessons had turned you into the woman you were today, they had taught you how to survive, and not just that, but how to thrive.

The palulukan had taught you to fight, how to attack and pounce, and win. She had taught you to protect yourself in any situation. She had taught you that no matter how small you were, how weak you may seem to your opponent, that there would always be a way to come out on top.

The syaksyuk had taught you how to swing from tree to tree, how to escape from harm's way quickly, may you choose not to fight. They taught you about community and how to work together to get to your goal.

The yerik had taught you how to scare off predators, and if that didn’t work how to run, how to pace yourself and run for longer than you thought you could. They taught you to stay calm, to not let fear overtake you as you ran.

The nantang made sure you knew how to hunt, how to stalk then attack and finish off your prey. They made sure you could feed yourself. They made you work in a team, to take everyone's different skills into account.

The ikrans that visited from the mountains taught you how to navigate the air, although you could only do so with their help. They would show you how different different parts of the land were. They showed you what you and your family of creatures looked from above.

Your upbringing was untraditional and many Na’vi would question how you had even survived, but you knew how. There was a sense of community in your animal family that could never be rivaled. You wouldn't have it any other way.

Of course there were still things you had to teach yourself, like weaving and making clothes. This had taken some trial and error as you had started as a very young child, needing to form this skill for more protection against the elements and the forest. You had figured it out later than you would have liked, but eventually you got there and had created your own outfits.

Then you had to teach yourself how to make weapons, and how to use them. You had mastered making spears out of branches when you were young, and quickly moved on to finding hard enough materials to make knives and other blades. When your mother palulukan had noticed your proficiency of making weapons she had started bringing back lost Na’vi weapons like bows and hunting knives.

After lots of trials and errors, from carving the body wrong to tying the sting wrong, you had mastered making a bow. You had found the perfect type of wood, strong enough to hold up, but soft enough to carve. You had found the perfect string made from woven plant fibers. When you carved your final masterpiece the curve of the wood was perfect and the string strung tightly enough to work perfectly.

Then came using it. You had never seen anyone use one, and your mother palulukan refused to let you anywhere near other Na’vi, so you struggled. You had tried over, and over, and over again, and eventually it paid off. Your stance was wrong to most, strange looking to others, but it worked perfectly for you.

With all of your combined skills, ones the animals of Pandora had taught you and ones you had taught yourself, you had become a lethal hunter. Once you proved yourself capable your mother palulukan let you off on your own.

At the age of eighteen years you had been sent free, allowed to explore as you wanted, and so you did. You ran through the forest with excitement coursing through your veins. You climbed and swung from tree to tree without a care for your safety. You swam in streams and shook the water from your loose hair as you resurfaced. You hunted for your own food, coming up successful every time.

You felt free.

You had been so used to your mother palulukan hunting for you that doing it on your own was enthralling. It gave you a rush unlike any other, but you never took more than you and your family could eat, dragging it back home to your palulukan family’s den.

Your little family had never eaten like this before. They had never had a meal every day, sometimes going as many as five days without food, instead giving leftovers to you, the little Na’vi they had taken in who needed it more than they did. Now you made sure they were fed daily, you took care of them like they had you.

As much as you loved the takedown of your prey, your favorite part of hunting was the stalking. You loved tracking things, finding a scent trail and following it until you found prints in the ground. You loved watching the prey once you found it, staying hidden in the shadows and observing.

Sometimes you would even track when you weren’t hunting, practicing for later or simply wanting to observe the other animals of the forest. You especially loved watching the nantang packs as they were similar to your family but also so different.

Today had been no different, you had been out searching for the trail of a nantang pack wanting to watch and observe. However that plan changed when you caught a whiff of something you had never smelled before. It reminded you of something, yourself, but you didn’t know why.

You couldn’t help but do what you do best, stalk. You followed the scent, staying close to the ground, slinking around, and watching the dirt for prints from any type of animal. When the trail stopped and there were no prints in sight you were confused, where had it gone, you questioned.

Then it hit you, the trees, it had to be in the trees. You weren’t in the mood to climb right now, not wanting a chase in the trees, but you might not have a choice. You took a breath, steadying and readying yourself, slowly looking up to the trees to see what you would be chasing, and once you caught sight of what it was you gasped.

It was you, not quite, but something like you.

He had your blue skin, stripes laid across his skin and white freckles splattered across his body and face. He had your dark hair, but his was put up in braids, something you had no idea you could do. He had your large golden eyes which were widened just like yours right now.

You were perplexed. You knew you weren’t the same as your family, you knew you looked completely different, not the same species, but you hadn’t ever seen another person like you. You didn’t know there were other people like you.

The other person looked just as shocked as you, and he was. You looked Omaticaya, but he had never seen you before, and he had seen everyone in his clan as the next Olo’eyktan in training. He hoped you weren’t Omaticaya because of how rough of shape you were in. He never wanted anyone in his clan to be in this rough of shape.

You had scapes all over your body, little scars scattered where past cuts had been. Your hair was loose and messy, knotted and in need of a good brush and braid. As he studied the strange girl in front of him he was concerned for you, for the state you were in, but to you the unkempt hair and scars and nicks that cover your body are normal.

To you they feel like home.

To you the scrapes and scars, the cuts and nicks, feel like home. They feel like the forest as you run through the underbrush, barely dodging trees and roughly catching your arms against them accidentally. They feel like jumping into streams and rivers, scraping your knees on the rocks at the bottom as the current sweeps you off your feet. They feel like hunting as you accidentally catch your finger with your blade as you finish off your prey.

To him they were worrying, they showed pain and danger, but to you that was normal, pain and danger were regular parts of your life. To him it wasn’t, and he felt the need to make sure you were okay. You were standing strongly so clearly you weren’t too injured, but the idea of you being one of his people made him feel the need to check you over, to help you.

He jumped down from his hiding spot, gracefully landing in front of you, and suddenly you took off. You sprinted away, terrified of the stranger. You wanted to make your way back home, back to your mother palulukan and the den you called home. You wanted to be safe, you wanted to feel safe.

The man lagged for a second, thinking, before deciding to follow you, taking off after you. The chase went on for a while, his lungs burned as he kept up with you, close behind, but he didn’t know how much longer he could keep up, and you didn’t seem to be slowing down.

“Wait, I just want to help!” He shouted after you, but that seemed to spook you more and you sped up.

You had no idea what the strange man had said, but his loud voice scared you. The sounds he was making were foreign to you, and it frightened you. He was communicating in a way you never had before. The way you communicated with your family was hisses and growls.

You were a good runner, had good stamina, but he seemed to be keeping up, although you could tell he was getting tired. The unfortunate part was you were getting tired too, and you would have to stop soon. You figured it would be good to stop sooner than later so you had enough energy to fight in case the need arose.

You saw a clearing to the right and zagged that way before stopping on the far end of it, crouched down like a palulukan, ready to pounce. The man stopped on the other side, hands on his knees as he caught his breath. Like this he looked less scary, he looked weak as he was out of breath, like you could win this fight easily.

He looked at you through the braids that had fallen in his face, and his eyes held no malice. He wanted you to feel safe, or as safe as possible, around him, so he showed his weakness as he was out of breath. He wanted you to know he wasn’t going to hurt you as he showed you had easily outran him.

However you still felt threatened.

Your eyes were blown wide, adrenaline coursing through you as your mind ran a mile a minute. Your ears pinned against your head and you let out a wild hiss at the man, bearing your teeth and snapping them together a few times as a threat.

He didn’t challenge you back, instead dropping to the ground to sit with his legs crossed, arms in the air as a sign of surrender, or peace, that he meant no harm. He tried to make himself look harmless, tried to make himself look smaller.

Your face scrunched up in confusion, why wasn’t he challenging you, you asked yourself. You weren’t convinced he meant to harm You couldn’t let your guard down, and your hand flew to your knife at your hip as you snarled at him, trying to elicit a reaction.

He then realized he had his own weapons on him and he lifted his bow over his head from where it rested against him, and threw it to the side. He hesitated as he took his knife out of its holder, but he threw it next to his bow a few feet away.

“They're gone, okay.” He pointed to the weapons where they laid, “I want to help you. I’m not going to hurt you.” He tried to explain.

Again you didn’t understand him, ears twitching at the unfamiliar sounds. Now you were more stressed than before. You stayed in place, ears pinned to your head again as you growled, but your hand moved away from your knife.

“There we go.” He spoke as your hand fell to your side, “What's your name?” He asked.

You felt the adrenaline wearing off, exhaustion starting to catch up to you and making you less hostile than before, blurring the lines of your fear. Your eyes were narrowed as your head tilted to the side, a questioning look on your face. You were scared because you couldn’t understand him, but you became more curious the more he spoke.

His voice was interesting, smooth and calming. You hadn’t heard anything like it before, and although you looked similar you weren’t sure if you could make the same sounds as him, accustomed to growls and hisses.

When you didn’t say anything back the man tried something different. He pointed to himself, “Neteyam.” Then he pointed to you, humming, “Hm?”

You growled back, trying to communicate the only way you knew how. He just cringed, taking it as aggressive while you were simply trying to voice your confusion.

He tried again, “Neteyam…” He pointed to himself, not saying anything else afterwards.

“Neteyam.” You whispered, only loud enough for you to hear. Then you cleared your throat, “Neteyam.” You parroted.

“Yes. Neteyam.” He nodded, happy you seemed to be getting somewhere, “You?” He asked, pointing to you.

“Hm?” You hummed, copying the noise he had made to you earlier. You thought it was a questioning sound, and you hoped your assumption was correct.

Something clicked to Neteyam, “You can’t understand me, can you?” He asked, not particularly expecting an answer.

“Hm?” You questioned again.

“Okay…” He took a second to think. Who were you? Where did you come from?

“Neteyam.” You spoke again, getting his attention. You then pointed to yourself and growled, you seemed to be trying to communicate something, and you were. You had growled your name, what your palulukan family called you.

He didn’t quite understand you, “Hm?” He asked.

You just growled again, pointing to yourself. Clearly this wasn’t getting anywhere.

“I’m going to give you a name, or a nickname I guess.” He told you, but you didn’t understand. If you had known what he had said you would have disagreed adamantly, you don’t need a different name, you have one already, but you didn’t understand, so when he pointed to you and said, “(Y/n).” The name sounded beautiful, and you loved the way it rolled off his tongue.

Your head tilted to the side, confusion written on your face, but you didn’t protest. Instead you nodded your head, seeming content, “Neteyam.” You pointed to him, “(Y/n), hm?” You pointed to yourself questioningly.

He smiled, “Yes.”

“Yes.” You copied him, but you weren’t smiling, still confused by the foreign words.

He patted the ground in front of him, inviting you to sit by him, but you don’t approach, instead sitting where you were a few feet away. He seems so calm, so relaxed, as he sits with his legs crossed and arms behind his as he leans on them. You however are stiff, skittish, as you sit on your knees, hands in your lap. You looked ready to take off at any second.

Neteyam tried to calm you down with reassuring words, even though he knew you couldn’t understand him, his calm tone seemed to take off the edge. You were scared of him, but slowly starting to believe he meant no harm. He wasn’t dangerous.

As you sat there with him he went on, and on, talking about whatever came to mind with that smooth tone. You could sit there and listen to him talk forever, but soon the sky is darkening and you realize it is time to head back home, to the comfort of your den, your mother would be waiting for you when you get there. She would be ready to allow you to cuddle up next to her and let go of the stress of today.

You’re not frantic when you stand up, instead more fixed on having a mission, to get home, but Neteyam doesn’t understand that, and so he stands up after you. You don’t pay him any mind until you start walking away and he follows you. Frustrated that he’s trying to follow you, you hold your hand out towards him, hissing.

“No!” You shout, a word you had picked up from Neteyam talking to you.

“Oh.” Neteyam simply comments. You were a quick learner apparently, picking up on the word and figuring out how to use it already.

You turn away and start walking off, and this time he doesn’t follow you, waving towards you and saying, “Goodbye, (Y/n).” He pauses before saying quieter, “I hope I see you again.” Not loud enough for you to hear.

Your mother palulukan was confused that night when you came home without a meal, but when you broke down in tears she moved to comfort you. You let out all of the stress from over the past few hours in tears and sobs, and eventually you stilled, fell asleep on her large warm body, and finally you rested.

You had intended to never see Neteyam again, but you kept running into him. It was frustrating and confusing. You had no idea why it kept happening, but of course you knew Eywa had a plan for everyone, and everything happens for a reason, but you weren’t sure why she was so insistent on putting you and Neteyam together.

The day after your first encounter you had your second meeting. You had been trying to hunt when you somehow ended up back at the clearing. You weren’t sure how you ended up there, but you gave in, sitting with him for a while before continuing your hunt.

The third time, the third day in a row now, you had been napping in a completely different area of the forest when you woke up to Neteyam looking at you curiously. It wasn’t necessarily in a creepy way, but it had spooked you at first before you calmed down. This time you did not stick around, walking off with a dismissive grunt to Neteyam.

The fourth time, a few days later, he had found you while you had been frolicking around in the Hallelujah Mountains. You had been hiding out there, trying to avoid him by not even being in the forest, but he had found you again somehow.

That went on, and on, until you admitted defeat, accepted your fate, Eywa was determined to have you and Neteyam together, and who were you to deny the Great Mother’s will. She knew all, and you trusted her, so you took her lead.

Every time you ran into Neteyam you would spend a little more time with him, and eventually that time built into hours, and then days, from sunrise to sunset you would spend your hours with him. You cherished your time with Neteyam and he certainly enjoyed your company, your attention.

Your palulukan mother was less than pleased with how much time you were spending with the Na’vi boy, but she understood you needed companionship with your own kind. She figured you would grow curious eventually and would venture out in search of people like you, and she was proud of you for making a friend, but she wished you would be home a little more.

When you finally gave into spending time with Neteyam you figured you should learn how to communicate, learn to speak his language. You would much rather teach him yours, but yours was more general emotions and less words, less actual conversation and more communicating how you're feeling through growls and hisses, hunched shoulders and bared teeth.

Today you were sitting by a river, somewhere Neteyam had shown you, as he tried to teach you the Na’vi language.

Neteyam pointed to different features on his face as you named them quietly, touching them on your own face as you went, “Ears. Eyes. Nose. Mouth.”

“Good job!” He praised you, a smile on both of your faces.

You were learning slowly, struggling to pick up a second language so much different from your first, but when you grasped a certain word you had it for good. You had started using the words you knew in basic sentences like “How you?” when you would first see him. You would listen intently as if you knew everything he was saying although you only picked up on certain words.

What really got Neteyam was when you would say goodbye when you parted ways at the end of the day. Instead of saying “Goodbye.” or something similar you would blurt out “Love you!” as you walked away.

It always got Neteyam’s heart beating in his chest, hard, and he couldn’t help but smile every time. He would say, “Goodbye (Y/n). Love you too.” because the one time he hadn’t reciprocated you had pouted and nearly cried.

He didn’t think you understood the significance of those words, of the word love, but you definitely did. You didn’t use it lightly, it being the only word you had learned to describe how you were feeling for Neteyam, and it described your feelings perfectly.

You truly did love him, as a friend, maybe more.

You appreciated what he did for you, but it went so much deeper than that. You loved how he was patient with you, giving you all the time you needed. You loved his voice, how he would talk to you even if you didn’t understand. You loved how he laughed, how he smiled, how his eyes seemed to glow when he was around you.

You love him.

You loved him like you loved the forest, it’s green foliage keeping you safe throughout your life. You loved him like you loved your mother palulukan, like a warm hug at the end of the day. You loved him like you loved the sounds that played all around you constantly, drowning out your negative thoughts.

You love him like home.

As you were mulling over your feelings, thinking whatever came to your mind, you had been zoning out, gone silent as you looked off into the distance. Neteyam took this chance to mess with you a little. He scooped up some water from the stream in his hands and threw it on you, bringing you out of your thoughts as the cool water hit your face.

You gasped, “Neteyam!”

He just laughed, pointing at you as your jaw was dropped, brow muscles raised, and eyes open wide. Your look of offense amused him and your look quickly switched to a scowl, and Neteyam felt himself still, that was never a good look on you.

You moved quickly, smiling mischievously splashing water onto him too. He looked surprised, like he hadn’t expected this from you, and you used that to your advantage, splashing him again, harder this time, with more water.

This time he was quick to move, trying to grab you and throw you into the deeper part of the river, but your reflexes were faster than him and you got up, running away like a mad woman. You smiled before jumping into the river, submerging your lower body before he could do it for you.

You thought hard, trying to form a coherent sentence, when you thought you had it you shouted, “Come get me!” Taunting him.

As you taunted him he just smiled, a sense of childish joy overcoming him. It reminded him of when he was younger. When he and his siblings would play in streams closer to home. When his father would play with them. It reminded him of family, you were quickly becoming family, but in a deeper way.

He loved you like family, he loved you like a calm afternoon at home with everyone sitting around, talking and playing games. He loved you like a partner, someone to share his own home with, where his family could come over for dinner and share stories. He loved you like someone new to the family, like someone his family could learn to love.

He loves you.

“Oh yeah?” Neteyam asked, smirking at you. He stayed where we was on the river bank, feet barely in the water.

“Yeah!” You shouted, challenging him by splashing the water around you.

He seemed to be contemplating it, over exaggerating his movements dramatically, “I don’t know… I might just stay here…” He joked.

You frowned, not understanding his joking tone of voice, “Fine…” You turned away from him, getting ready to leave the river.

However you didn’t get the chance when you heard splashing behind you, and it was too late. He ran up to you splashing you, getting your entire back wet, including your hair.

You whipped around, gasping both at the cold water and the shock of not expecting it. You shouted at him, arms crossed over your chest, “Rude!”

Neteyam laughs loudly, “Oh I’m rude? You’re the one who told me to come get you.” He defended himself, rolling his eyes.

“You…” You thought of what word to use, not sure what the word for this action was, you settled on, “hit me first!”

Neteyam was quick to correct you, “Splash, the word is splash.” He really did not want you telling people he was hitting you if you ever met his clan. He hoped it was less of an if, and more of a when.

You took in the information, “You splash me first.” You shrugged your shoulders, feeling you won the conversation.

“And I’ll do it again!” Neteyam laughed, running at you, ready to throw more water in your face, but you turned to run away from his attack.

As you were running you slipped, falling to your knees and feeling pain shoot through one of them, “Ow.” You hissed out.

Neteyam was quick to rush to your side, helping you up and walking you to the edge of the river where you sat down. You inspected the cut, it wasn’t much and you would be okay in a day or so, “I am okay.” You tried to assure Neteyam.

Neteyam frowned, “I’m sorry. Let me fix you up?” He asked.

You knew if you said no he would practically beg you to let him help you, so you gave in, “Okay.”

Neteyam sat down, pulling your leg over his lap so he had better access to your knee. He inspected the small wound, thinking about what Kiri had told him would be best for it.

He was quick to pull out the little pouch of healing equipment he had, herbs and plants, pastes and drinks, he was equipped for anything. He had decided to carry anything he would need to treat your small cuts and scrapes because every time you would see him you would have more and more. They never seemed to stop coming, so he promised he would do his best to help you.

He pulled out a paste you recognized, and before he could speak you mocked him, attempting to copy his voice, “This one will sting.” You fell into a fit of giggles afterwards.

He just chuckled at you, “You’re right.” You seemed to always be right, you picked up on other things, besides learning the Na’vi language, easily.

You smiled, sighing happily, “I know.”

Neteyam hums, smiling at you , “Tell me, how have you been? What have you done today?” He tried to distract you while he put the paste on.

It worked as you quickly responded, “It has been great. I have gotten to see you…” You trailed off, smiling shyly, before continuing, “This morning I went on a hunt, took food home to my mom. My siblings are moving out finally, so it is just us now. Less mouths to feed.”

“Good… Neteyam answered simply, focusing on what he was doing as he wrapped a bandage around your knee.

“Thank you.” You pulled his face up to look at you, a small smile was on your face, lips gently curved, eyes softened to liquid gold, “For everything.”

He sighed, content, as his face melted into your hand, pressing your skin to his, “It’s really no big deal. I would do anything for you. I would get you anything you need, anything you want.” He admitted softly, quietly.

You smiled, leaning in and pressing your forehead to his, “I know, and Eywa do I love it. I love you.”

He smiles back, the happiness reaching his eyes, and if you listen close enough you can hear his heart thumping in his chest, ready to pop out, “I love you too, (Y/n). I see you, and I will show you that every day.

Every time he tends to your wounds he is so careful, he is so careful with you. He is careful in a way the forest has never been, in a way it never will be in the future. The forest gives you safety in the form of protection through the hard and marred skin you have covering your body. The forest shows you its love through injuries you’ve sustained from your years of survival, it gives you love by allowing you to survive.

Now you don’t need the love of the forest, you need the love of him. He feels like scars, and bruises, and cuts, and pain. He feels like safety. Like how you once had found safety and solace in the cuts and bruises you bared, how your unkempt hair and scars felt like your home, to you he feels like home.

Word Bank:

Great Mother (Eywa)

Palulukan (Thanator)

Syaksyuk (Prolemuris)

Yerik (Hexaped)

Nantang (Viperwolf)

Ikran (Mountain Banshee)

Omaticaya (Forest Na’vi)

Olo’eyktan (Clan leader)

Eywa (Na’vi goddess)

#fanfic #fanfiction #avatar fanfiction #avatar the way of water #atwow #atwow fanfiction #avatar movie #atwow fics #neteyam sully #neteyam #neteyam x reader #neteyam x you #neteyam x y/n #neteyam x na'vi!reader #neteyam x omaticaya!reader #neteyam x female reader #neteyam x fem!reader #neteyam sully x reader #neteyam suli x reader

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d0youc0py · 2 months

Note

Hi! I just wanted to see if I could put in a request maybe? I love your writing and it would make my day if you wrote something about the 141 + Konig having an arguement with the reader and they yell or make a sudden move causing her to like flinch away.

If not that's totally okay too, have a lovely day!

“I’m so tired of arguing with you John.” Your words came out whimper-like and you hated how weak it made you sound. Yet fighting with John was exhausting. Sometimes when the two of you argued it felt like it was just another form of training for him.

He instantly softened. Not that you had the wits to notice. A fat tear rolled down your cheek and John’s hand instinctively raced forward to wipe it away. But from your point of view it looked like he was coming in for a slap. Your head flew back, colliding with the kitchen cabinet. You hissed, your hands coming up to apply pressure to the sting.

“Shite, Sweetheart.” He growled. His hands found your hips, pulling you towards him. “I would never.” He reminded. His hand found its way to yours and held you gently.

“I’m sorry.” You muttered, cheeks flushed. You knew John would never lay a hand on you and you hoped he didn’t take your reaction too personal.

“Don’t apologize, Honey.” He muttered back, his lips pressed against the crown of your head.

His body stilled. In the midst of an argument- one that he can’t even remember why it started- he reached up to rub his face, the action causing you to flinch. He doesn’t even think it counts as a flinch, because you were basically bracing for impact.

“That what you think of me?” He started. Your heart dropped in your stomach at his words, thinking he was angry, but the look on his face was the opposite. His eyes were nervous. It seemed like he was waiting for you to tell him what you truly thought of him. You quickly shook your head.

“No, Si.” You assured quickly. “I just wasn’t expecting it and you moved so fast.” You tried to explain.

“I know I can be an arse sometimes but I would never hit you. Please tell me you know that.” His eyes bore into yours and you nodded your head.

“I do, Si.” You agreed. His hand reached forward slowly and you took the invitation wrapping your arms around his middle.

“Sorry for being an arse by the way.”

*maybe toxic behavior?*

Most of the time Johnny was an extrovert by choice. He could be the life of the party, charming and personable when he wanted to be, but he also needed his time to recharge. He’d just gotten back from a mission and wanted nothing more than to curl up with you and watch some TV show that took no brain power to understand. Instead he came home to you dressed up to the nines, heading out the door.

“Where are you off to?” He questioned, plopping his duffle bag by the door. You raced forward pressing quick kisses against his face.

“Just a little get together. Want to come?” You hummed against him.

“Didn’t I tell you I was coming back today?” He asked. You hummed in agreement, stopping your attack of affection when none of it was reciprocated.

“Yeah, you did. Why?” You questioned.

“I’ve been gone for three weeks and you’re just heading out the door.” He responded, his words nearly coming out like a snarl. This began the argument and before you knew it the two of you were screaming at each other in the entryway.

Johnny talked with his hands and that became dangerous when he was upset. His hand flung up, his fingers barely missing your cheek. All was silent. Your eyes fled with tears wondering how the man you loved could be so careless. His bright eyes were wide and were taking in every move or emotion you felt.

“I wasn’t going to”- He began.

“Sure seemed like you were going to.” You said back. He shook his head almost violently.

“Never.” He growled. “I would never hurt you.”

“Physically.” You emphasized. He shut his eyes tightly- all the hurtful things he said during the argument coming back to him.

He had a lot of making up to do.

*it’s so hard writing angst for Kyle b/c I feel like he is just the sweetest partner everrrrr*

He came home in a mood. The weight of the world on his shoulders. He brushed past you, giving you a quick peck on the forehead before retreating to the patio for a quick smoke. He rarely smoked and the sight had you worried, but you gave him peace.

You were finishing up your laundry, not noticing as he came home behind you. When his hands touched you, you jumped nearly a foot in the air, your head colliding with the dryer.

“Fucking hell, baby.” He huffed from behind you. “Didn’t mean to scare you.” He apologized, holding your head right where you hit it.

“I didn’t even hear you.” You gasped.

“Well I’ve had training.” He smirked. “Let’s get you an ice pack, yeah? Don’t want you walking around town with a bump on your head.”

He was venting to you, to engrossed in his own feelings that he didn’t notice the drastic change in his demeanor. You weren’t use to the side of him- and he had made sure to keep it hidden from you. The last thing he ever wanted was to frighten you. It wasn’t until his arm flung out (not towards you) and you jumped that he’d noticed what was happening.

“Scheisse.” He muttered to himself.

“I’m sorry.” You apologized quickly. “I don’t know why I did that.” You rambled. His worried eyes watched you.

“I didn’t mean to scare you.” He apologized. His hands reached out to grab yours and you pushed yourself closer to him.

“You didn’t really scare me, Konnie.” You opened and closed your mouth before continuing. “I’ve just never seen you so worked up before. You just surprised me is all.” He wrapped an arm around your shoulders, bending down so his head could rest on yours.

“Still. There are ways for me to vent without getting all worked up, ja?”

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frmisnow · 2 months

Text

✧˖ ?! — I'M A GOD AWFUL GUILTY FOOL FOR YOU. - (ANGST / SUGGESTIVE)

— ‧₊˚ — 🌼: " why do you torture me like this ??"

summary. your sisters arranged husband being your long lived past fuck buddy was def. not on your bingo card- neither was him showing up at your apartment entrance every once in a while, begging to let him talk to you

notes. FOR THE CHEOL GIRLIES!!!!! and first slightly angsty work...what do we think??

warnings/includes. non idol! seungcheol x f! reader, forbbiden love kindaaa?? + fuck buddies if you squint, making out

"please leave" you shake your head, avoiding his eyes and body standing at the entrance of your apartment- no, you couldn't dare look into the eyes of the man your sister would soon marry- her fiance. granted, arranged marriage- yet nonetheless.

you look him in the eyes just once, "please leave" you repeated weakly once more, as if he didn't hear you first time.

he takes a step forward, the scent of his oh so familar cologne tickling the nerves in your nose, expression softening, "I can't," he murmured, his voice barely audible, "not without speaking to you first-"

"You have spoken to me enough and you know just how it always ends" you respond, gaze still avoiding his as you could hear him let out a little sigh like he was exhausted, "then I will talk and you can ignore me" that tone practically pleading.

finally looking up to him, eyes begging "why do you always have to make it hard for me?"

"I could ask you the same"

truly you didn't knew how to respond, it was an endless cycle, one you falters comes to the others house in the middle of the night, you both fuck so roughly that you both can't forget about it though you know it's a mistake and the cycle repeats.

so you keep your mouth shut, walking away from the entrance door to your kitchen as he follows you like a dog and you pour yourself a scotch, though you never usually used to drink.

he stood against the kitchen counter, observing you, his eyes trailing to you as you poured the liquid into the glass, he watched without judgement while you took a longgg sip.

this cycle had gone on for months fuck maybe years now. you can't remember, you can't keep track all you know is that each time it happens- it's like something primal takes over. your anger and guilt are stripped away and you crave him so bad that nothing matters.

you shook your head to forget about all the memories, all the nights - silently pouring scotch into a second glass, again without any eye contact swiping it over the desk to him.

cheol took it instantly like he could def. take some alcohol rn and took a sip, it tasted as good as always, he always liked the specific scotch you always had in the kitchen. "it's my favorite, you know that right?"

"i know" your voice almost uncounciously empathized the 'i' which stung considering that his fiance probably didn't.

his grip tightened around the glass, he didn't want to admit it but your voice almost made him want to drop the glass onto the ground. he sighed, staring at the scotch, "why do you torture me like this?"

"fuck," you mutter under your breath, covering your face with your hands, rubbing over it shortly like trying to wash it till your eyes finally meet his and your tone becomes louder in frustration: "better question: why do you always show up? why are you always there in the right moment at the right time to find a weak unstable me? damn it, why do you always have to look like that?"

and though cheol was pleading with his eyes earlier for you to look at him now that you finally did- he looked away, shame painted his features and you hated the fact that your heart grew tighter.

for a moment he couldn't form a word or respond in any way, guilt hitting him as his silence stretched out. he closed his eyes, the truth of your question hitting him hard. "I'm a fool" he said simply after a moment

and you hated the fact that you wanted to hug him till you couldn't breathe, you hated the fact that you wanted to bury your face in the crotch of his neck, you hated the fact that you wanted to kiss him till your lips were numb.

he swallowed hard and opened his eyes, looking at you again, but only for a second before looking away once more. it was clear he couldn't hold eye contact without thinking of all the times you've done this, the guilt now growing stronger, "I'll leave" he said simply, almost monotone.

you felt like you struggled to breathe, sighing strongly, this is what had to be done- this is what you wanted but no- this was not at all what you wanted. And watching him go, would be even more painful then waking up next to him in his bed, but again you couldn't say no as this is what you've been practically begging him to do for the past seven minutes.

he stepped away from the counter, ready to make his leave. he didn't dare look at you again, he couldn't. but as he walked toward the front door your voice stopped him at the last moment. "cheol...wait" your voice was soft, barerly audible.

you couldn't help the way you leaned forward arms instantly wrapped around his buff body, the way your face burried in his chest.

holding you like that for quite a while, pulling back ever so slightly, only to have you wrap your arms around his neck. he smiled down at you as his hands gripped your cheeks, "I don't understand you" he muttered in-between kisses. "you're so unpredictable, I try so hard not to show up, and yet you still pull me back in".

"If you weren't here in-" broken of by a messy kiss, "the time i wouldn't even have- fuck" again broken off by his greedy lips.

his kisses were messy, sloppy even- he kissed you the same way you could imagine a starving person drinking water after a day long hike. he was so desperate, a deep hunger behind each kiss. after every kiss he leaned his head back away from yours as he took a breath, his hands traveling up your back, your body tightly pressing into his, "please don't stop" he muttered between panting.

"please never leav-" practically groaning as you're cut of once more

"say it again" he muttered hoarsely, as if the words would turn him to dust if you didn't repeat them again.

"never leave," you added, "never leave again"

#kpop smut #choi seungcheol #seungcheol smut #seungcheol x reader #seungcheol #seungcheol ff #seungcheol fic #seungcheol angst #seventeen ff #seventeen #seventeen smut #seventeen fanfic #seventeen angst #svt x reader #seventeen x reader #svt imagines

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gojo-mochi · 6 months

Text

A/N: yeah I wrote half of this when I went to see a live show… (shoutout to gho/st file/s!) Non edited/proofread bleh it just my rambling anyways

MDNI

Getting fucked dumb by a bigger man. In mass, size, and length. By the time their cock enters you, you’re already halfway to being a drooling and mindless mess. He needed to prep you thoroughly before you could take his cock, he didn’t want to hurt you after all.

“Oh? What’s that? You think you can take me with no prep?”

“Oh, little one, maybe we can try that tomorrow. For now, just lay back against me and let me stretch you out on my fingers.”

“Yes, I know they’re so big, aren’t they? Bet you never reached this deep in your own before.” “Bet those boys before couldn’t even dream of reaching this deep with their dicks, huh? I’ll show you what a real man is made of soon enough, darling.. “

You find purchase by holding on to his biceps while he fingers you, your arousal coating his palm while he smacks it against your puffy clit. The wet squelching noises made you try to cover your face and ears in embarrassment. But he couldn’t have that, oh no, no…

His free hand will pinch in your cheeks if you try to hide any of those sweet noises he loves. Scolding you gently for being embarrassed as his fingers plunged in faster and faster. If you still feel like fighting and escaping his hold on you. He’ll take it a step deeper, shoving two fingers in your mouth, pressing down on your tongue. He doesn’t care if you drool or even try to bite down on him. As long as you keep on making those cute and sweet whimpers and moans unhindered.

You scratch and claw at his biceps as he flexes under your hands. Your pitiful attempts at damaging him barely did a dent to his muscular form. His mouth next to your ear, hot, heavy, laced with desire and need. Your pussy pulling in his fingers, sucking them in so sloppily.

“Fuck, maybe this slutty pussy can take me already. Look at how she’s crying out for me.”

Once he pulls one, two, maybe even three orgasms from just his fingers, your body quivering and twitching, only held down by his big encompassing arm around your waist. Depending on the mood he would pull out a small vibrartor bullet pressing down on your abused swollen clit, ignoring your cries to stop and attempts to push his hands away. His free hand trapping your wrists together, forcing your thighs to go over his own thick ones, spreading you out fully for his assault. Letting the vibrartor roam around your lips, just teasing you for a bit, he loves watching you twitch and struggle, licking the tears from your cheeks as he prods the bullet against your clit until the bed sheet underneath gets completely soaked.

If he doesn't care for toys or is feeling a bit hungry that day, he would kneel down on the bed but keep his back straight, his height still towering over you even in this position as he flips you upside down. Throwing your legs over his broad shoulders as he delves down for his feast. HIs fat tongue lapping at your juices like a starved dog, his arm squeezing at your soft chest and waist, sometimes yanking you back up to crash into his mouth when you slip a bit. Sucking and rolling his tongue and mouth over your sensitive little nub unless your cries become voiceless and your head gets dizzy from the position.

Then when you’re finally in that dumb state, nothing but incoherent babbles spilling from your lips, your body too exhausted to fight back. Turned into nothing but a toy for him to ram his cock into, He’ll pick you up once more, bringing your legs together and locking them in under one bicep. The other arm around your neck, not choking but pushing your head back so he can whisper filth in your ear as he lowers you down on his length. Your pussy so weak and wet, still struggles to fit him in all fully. Whines still come out when he’s halfway in, your breath gets hitch in your throat when he fully bottoms out. When he starts rutting into you, his balls slapping against your ass heavily with each bounce, he’ll press a hand down on the bulge protruding in your stomach.

“Full enough yet, love?”

“Pussy still so fucking tight, gotta train her better.”

“Oh, little one, you’re nothing but a toy for me to fuck, aren’t cha?”

“So pliant, you’ll let me do whatever I want to you, right? Cause you love this cock so much..”

#toji smut #konig smut #softy talks to you (·•᷄ࡇ•᷅ ) (•᷄ •᷅ ;)#softy write #kidd smut #one piece smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #simon riley smut #uhh who else is huge #zoro smut #softy spice #idk tag ur fav huge man

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gatorbites-imagines · 4 months

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Hi, I’m not sure if you still write for the batfamily but can I request them and a sick teen reader, who’s also in the batfamily and a vigilante with them and they get sick but refuse to rest

Batfam with a sick teen reader

Headcanons

I like to imagine the reader is the best and worst part of different batfam members combined into one person. Meaning he gives the family heart attacks on the regular.

You weren’t the oldest, or the youngest, member of the batfam. You were only a few months younger than Tim, making you older than Damian but younger than the others.

You were the 13th child of a great warrior who had built a group of expert warriors, think like the league of assassins but smaller and more lowkey.

Because of your tough upbringing, and your siblings always outshining you, you have always felt a deep need to show no weakness and appear stronger than you are.

This means you work extremely hard to be a great member of the batclan, going by the name Red Bat. It had started out as a joke, as you wore a helmet that appeared to have the same ears as Bruces, but was red in color. It hadn’t been on purpose, but you had come to like the name.

The family are impressed with how hard you work, though it also worries them because you work yourself to the bone sometimes, never accepting failure and punishing yourself when you don’t do good, by your own standards.

In the beginning when you joined the family, you had some struggles with Damian, Tim, and Duke, as they are the closest to your age, and you are so used to having to claw yourself into the light, to get any positive attention from a father figure or to stand out.

So, it caused some tension, but after you started settling in and you all started bonding, it went away for the most part. A small part of your soul, deeply hidden inside, still feels like you aren’t good enough and never will be, and there might be some faint jealousy of the rest of the family. It doesn’t get in the way of you loving them all though.

Bettering your relationship with the family hasn’t slowed down your excessive training though, or how roughly you treat yourself. Cass ends up having to just resort hugging you until you allow yourself to relax. Damian will train with you, but does it with the purpose of tiring you out without causing any damage. If anybody knows what it’s like, it’s Cass and Damian, so they never blame you.

Because of your extremely high standards for yourself, you never slow down, even when you are sick. You’ll go as long as possible, hiding your sickness from the family until you literally can’t anymore.

And even then, you keep pushing yourself and brushing off their concern. The only one who seemingly can pull you away from your spiral with no struggle, is Alfed, because its Alfred, and no one goes against Alfred.

The rest of the family would try different ways to make you rest.

Dick would wrap a weighted blanket around you when you are at the batcomputer, and lean against you as you work, just telling you about his day. It works sometimes, because you always feel safe around him, so if you are already exhausted and drowsy, it can put you out.

Jason hovers in the background too, maybe brings you some of your favorite food from downtown, sits nearby. If you are really sick, he will scold you in the way he does, prodding at you till you go to bed to rest. If its really bad, he will throw you over his shoulder and force you to rest.

Cass is always the first to spot when you are sick, and always gives you small, disappointed frowns when you push yourself too hard, and her reaction probably makes your heart ache the most. She pulls you from your work to watch a movie with her, making sure to wrap you in blankets and keep you close until you fall asleep.

Tim is the type to sit beside you when you work, since hes not the pinnacle of health most times too. Might use it as a “if you go rest, I will to” to force you to go, since you love your brother very much and want him to get better too. The rest of the fam regularly finds you guys passed out over a case together.

Duke hovers too, brings you medicine and will talk to you about his day to keep you distracted from whatever is keeping you awake and active. He understands pushing yourself even when you are sick, and knows that forcing you to go rest wont help, so he tries to subtly push you in that direction instead of pushing you.

Damian scowls nearby, probably gives you some speech about how being sick will make you less lethal and weaker, and then you can’t do your job as Red Bat at all. Resorts to dumping different batclan animals on you until you have no choice. You end up laying against batcow, Jerry the turkey beside you, Alfred the cat in your lap, Titus and Ace laying around you, you get the point.

Bruce looms and hovers, since he’s not the best with words. Its easy to tell he’s worried when he keeps pacing near you or keeping an eye on you. Will matter of factly tell you that you need rest, brings you a blanket or other comfort items.

If you try to run off on patrol, Barbara is quick to tell the others what you are up too. If you are really sick, they’ll whisk you back to the manor kicking and screaming if they have too, as being extremely sick can put you at risk.

If its milder, they’ll just hover nearby and keep a close eye on you and your physical state.

The first few times it happened, it caused a huge argument because of your inability to let yourself rest, and because that sick twisted part inside you was sure it was because they saw you as weak or a burden, like your first siblings did, since there was no excuse for weakness in your first family.

It results in them, and especially Bruce because he’s the one you look up to the most, having to sit down with you and explain that there’s nothing wrong with being sick or so called “weak”, and that its okay to take a rest when you need it.

It also results in the rest of the family having to lead by example, because you’ll always snip and point out how they’re not resting when they are sick, so why should you.

Alfred thanks the circumstances and that the family all love each other so much, he’s been trying to get the batfam try to take breaks and rest when sick for years, and now that they must be someone you can look up too, they’ll actually do it.

It becomes kind of a game to force the sick family members to rest, lotsa blanket burritos and the sick person always ends up with Alfred the cat curled up on their chest purring somehow. Its especially fun when its Bruce that’s sick, because you all have to hound him an extra amount for him to take care of himself.

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ronwestbreeze · 6 months

Text

you're gonna go far | 5

pairing: jake sully x neytiri x tsu'tey x fem!human! reader summary: a scientist arrives on pandora (unwillingly) a year after the exile of the rda. now she must deal with the likes of a clan leader, a great warrior, and a thanator rider. . . word count: 7.4k

read on ao3

“What do you mean pregnant?” Jake questioned looking absolutely bewildered.

Next to you, Norm cleared his throat, “While we were doing our rounds here, Dr. Reeds discovered it. We ran some tests and turns out it’s true. Grace’s avatar is pregnant.”

Jake frowned, “I’m sorry, that still doesn’t explain how she got like this.”

You shrugged, not looking up from your tablet, “Well, apparently when two avatars love each other very much—”

“We don’t know.” Norm instead answered, sending you a glare, to which you ignored.

After your rather strange discovery, Norm got in touch with Jake and an hour later the rest of the scientists were cleared out of the room. And in replacement, three tall ass Na’vi crowded around Augustine’s avatar tank while you and Norm—still in human form—stood on the other side of the tank, staring straight at the glass while Jake, Neytiri, and Tsu’tey looked over it.

Their reactions were as expected. Jake confused. Neytiri wary yet curious. And Tsu’tey with his usual scowl—you were seriously beginning to think it was just the way his face was set—but with a hint of apprehension.

“She’s two months along or more, I’m honestly surprised we hadn’t noticed it until now.” Norm frowned, looking at the small stomach. The avatar wasn’t showing yet, perhaps because of how thin they all naturally were—but upon further inspection, the small two-month-old bump was quite noticeable.

“So, it just appeared? No explanation?” Jake questioned, also frowning down at the avatar. “How is that even possible?”

Again, you shrugged and finally looked up from your tablet. “Well, that depends,” Frankly, you didn’t want to be here. Being practically stuck in the same room with two people who both pissed you off and had you on guard constantly. Like they were going to attack you at any second—perhaps throw more baseless accusations your way. It would often leave you exhausted afterward. “What exactly was Dr. Augustine doing before her avatar ended up unresponsive? Any secret relationships? Did you ever find her sneaking out—possibly to meet someone in secret?”

Jake was the one who responded, unfortunately. “We shared a station together for three months. She never left that place or met with anyone.”

Norm nodded in agreement while Neytiri placed her hand on the tank glass, “In her last moments we tried moving her spirit through Eywa and into her false body. But she was very weak…Could she have been with child then?”

“Had to be. She couldn’t have been pregnant after—after she passed.” Norm crossed his arms—almost like he was hugging himself.

Well, that wasn’t much to go on but you didn’t say it out loud since the very sight of this woman’s avatar—or at least talking about her clearly made the four of them react.

You had no personal connection to the late Dr. Grace Augustine, she was your role model of course but that was about it. You’ve never met her, therefore you were the only one with an unbiased perspective.

Their reactions were different but the same in some ways.

Norm hid it by pushing forward and moving the conversation along. Neytiri doesn’t hide her emotion when talking about Dr. Augustine. Her face was gentle and grief-stricken. You wondered if Neteyam, who was snuggly strapped to her chest, felt his mother’s strong emotions.

Jake wore a mask of sorts but you could still see the traits. Low ears, tail tucked behind his leg, avoidant gaze—it was then you realized how easy it was to read Na’vi’s expressions. You wondered if reading humans was difficult for them, except for Jake. Na’vi just had a more expressive face. Unless they were experienced at hiding it well.

Like Tsu’tey. The clan leader looked distant and was the quietest out of the four.

You supposed that Grace seemed to be the one thing that bonded the four. Especially Jake, Neytiri, and Tsu’tey. They had each other to lean on, you could tell by how unconsciously they neared each other.

But you and Norm? Maybe you could lean on each other but it wasn’t necessarily the same.

You lost your mother. Who could you lean on?

It must’ve been nice.

You knew you had been staring too long when Tsu’tey’s eyes locked with yours.

As subtly as you could, you looked away to tune in back to what Norm was saying, “So obvious questions aside, what should we do?”

“That’s not an obvious question?” You frowned, earning a jab in your side from him.

The three were quiet as they glanced at each other—or rather they were having a silent conversation with each other. You could tell by the way Jake raised his brows in question. Neytiri’s meaningful look. And Tsu’tey’s narrowed eyes.

You tucked the tablet under your arm and cleared your throat, drawing their attention to you, “While you guys decide who should take care of it, the avatar would have to stay here. The baby—if there is truly one in there—would have to be born here.”

Norm nodded in agreement, “Grace’s avatar will be under Dr. Reeds’ care since she is the one who identified the fetus—"

“No.” Tsu’tey instantly scowled.

“Told you,” Norm mumbled next to you.

You rolled your eyes, briefly locking eyes with Neytiri who watched the two of you with a small frown. There was a flash of something that floated passed her eyes, something you didn’t have time to make out right now.

“The Sky People know nothing about caring for a child of our people.” Tsu’tey scowled. “None of them do! I will not trust the child—or sa’nok’s body in the hands of—”

“—Demon. Yeah, you’ve made that clear.” You cut in calmly, earning a warning look from Norm and a vicious glare from the clan leader. You ignored both, “The facts don’t change. The body cannot be moved. The avatar is essentially dead—this tank is its life support, therefore the baby’s life support. So, if we keep the avatar and the baby here—"

“You do not get to decide this—”

Now you were irritated. You tried. You really did. “Then deal with a dead fucking baby for all I care—”

“Reeds.” Norm frowned.

“Tsu’tey!” Neytiri hissed, giving the man’s arm a slight shove.

The only person who appeared calm was Jake—which wasn’t surprising. He was looking at you, not with malice or accusation, but with contemplation. “If we keep the baby here…?”

You pressed your lips into a thin line and let out a short, agitated breath. “Since the avatar is basically dead, it can’t push the baby out the usual way when the time comes to it. We’d have to perform a C-section to get it out.” Tsu’tey opened his mouth to protest but you quickly beat him to it, “Once the baby is born, it’s yours. I nor the rest of us have an interest in keeping it here. It would be illogical. Are rations are terrible already—we don’t have the resources to take care of a baby. So you won’t have to worry about it being raised by demons.”

In the last part, you directed your pointed look toward Tsu’tey was still glaring at you. A part of you was smug, the fear and hesitation around him slowly going away.

You really didn’t care much for what he thought about you and you made sure he knew it. Of course, being this reckless with your mouth wasn’t the smartest idea and he probably didn’t appreciate it—but perhaps that was the best part about it.

He hissed something in Na’vi at you, which he knew you wouldn’t understand. The one thing he had over you. And with his own carefully crafted smugness, he knew this too. You rolled your eyes.

Neytiri snapped at him in response which seemed to surprise both Tsu’tey and Jake. You glanced toward Norm with a questioning look. He leaned toward your ear and mumbled, “Essentially, Neytiri’s okay with you watching over Grace’s avatar.” You both watched Tsu’tey reply with the same amount of ferocity. “And Tsu’tey’s pissed that she’s siding with you.”

You hummed but didn’t respond. Neytiri agreed with the plan, this also surprised you but you refused to allow the others to see that. Instead, you’d hold your chin high and bathe in your victory of having at least one of them agree with you for once.

It was nice that Neytiri was defending your idea. At least someone in this room was sane enough to.

Jake, who had been silent up to this point, suddenly cut into Neytiri and Tsu’tey’s argument, which caused the both of them to turn to him. He said something to them in a lowered voice and before you could ask Norm what he was saying, Neytiri and a begrudged Tsu’tey suddenly left the room.

You watched their retreating figures with quiet curiosity, until Jake spoke again in English, “Norm, can Reeds and I have the room?”

Now you were frowning. Hell, you were sure you looked like Tsu’tey then. Norm gave you a pleading look, one that said, ‘Just talk to him’.

And it took a lot. Every bit of strength to restrain yourself from snapping at Norm and telling him it was a bad idea to leave the both of you alone.

But instead, you ended up holding back a groan in your throat. You wouldn’t let him see you snap like that. You wouldn’t break your resolve so easily around him again.

Eventually, you nodded stiffly, “Go ahead. We’ll be quick.”

After a nod and a pat on your shoulder, Norm left you and Jake alone.

The last time the two of you had been alone was when you set your mother’s lab on fire. You wondered if this was his chance to find fault in you again. To throw more accusations your way.

Jake watched you. And you watched him.

Stubbornly, you weren’t going to speak first. After all, he was the one who wanted to talk to you alone.

After another few seconds of you sizing each other up, he finally spoke, “Why the sudden interest in looking after Grace’s child, huh? What’s in it for you?”

You raised a brow, “Do you want some kind of sinister motive?”

He frowned at your very sardonic response, “No. Just the truth, if that isn’t too much.”

“The idea of truth seems subjective here.” You argued dryly. “No matter what I say, somehow I’m still made into this heartless demon you all have painted in your image. Don’t be surprised when I start acting like it at some point.” The latter was a dark joke of your own. But you failed to make that known to him.

Jake glared, leaning on the tank. The glass was impenetrable, it wouldn’t break under his weight. But it would leave unnecessary hand prints for someone to clean later. “Christ, can we just be straight with each other? You said yourself you had no interest in raising it. So why willingly volunteer to watch it?”

Despite your dislike for being alone with him—or him in general—you expected this question. It was an easy answer to which you had no problem responding to. Whatever it took to get this interaction done and over with as quickly as possible.

So, you gave a simple shrug, “The avatar got pregnant without having any intercourse. And I’ve checked. The development is impossible but remarkable. I want to study it closely, to learn how it happened and how it will continue to develop over time. Hell, we’re not even sure if this is an actual baby inside. Could be something else. We won’t know until it’s out.”

The answer didn’t seem to satisfy him. You could tell by the way his ears remained pinned at the side of his head, “So that’s what all of this is to you? A science project?”

“I’m a scientist.” You said plainly as if the answer was obvious. “Plus, it gives me something to do here. I have to make up the time I’ve lost.”

Jake frowned as if waiting for more. You did not offer more.

“And you think you are capable of doing it?” It was your turn to frown. That was a question you weren’t exactly prepared for. More or less that was the last thing you expected him to ask. “Are you really equipped to take on something like this? Especially now?”

You glared now, “Are you questioning my credentials?”

“No, I have no doubt that you’re good in your field—”

“Excellent. I am excellent in my field.”

“—Your actions are unpredictable—”

“Ah, so you’re questioning my stability.” Your skin boiled with barely hidden rage. You wouldn’t let him see you snap like that. You wouldn’t break your resolve so easily around him again. “Afraid I’ll blow up another lab?”

Jake scowled, “That’s not funny.”

“It wasn’t a joke.”

It was a standoff. The two of you. Jake’s gaze was intense and yours severe. His jaw tightened and he shook his head with a humorless snicker, “You're impossible.”

“And you have no right to question whether or not I am in stable condition for a job I am qualified for.” You snapped back, your resolve barely holding by a thread. “So, is this what you wanted to talk to me about? Is that why you wanted to see me alone so that you could ridicule me without eyes watching? Do you think you’re a better man for that, Sully? Why don’t you just be straight with me, like you wanted? Stop fucking beating around the bush!”

“Yeah?” He challenged with a mocking chuckle. “You want me to be straight with you? Fine. Tsu’tey doesn’t trust you with Grace’s avatar—”

You scoffed, “Clearly!”

“—and I don’t either.”

With a shrug, you placed your tablet down, “Frankly, Sully, I have no interest in earning your trust. I’m here to do my job. That’s all. A job I have no choice in doing since I am stuck here on your planet. Trust has nothing to do with it.”

He looked resigned, guarding his face once more. The silence was all too consuming.

Jake didn’t want this. He was supposed to be making peace with you. At least attempt to be cordial with one another.

But you were impossible. You were difficult.

You saw no point to this conversation. Never did from the beginning. Why he wanted to talk to you in private only to rehash what’s already been said. What’s already been known. You didn’t understand what he was trying to do here. There was nothing else they could possibly talk about past the subject of the mysterious fetus. You did not want to be here.

He was impossible. He was difficult.

Jake straightened his back—a small inkling in the back of your mind wondered if that was the Marine in him. Standing to attention, as if addressing someone with power well above him. Or his enemy. You really couldn’t tell with them. “So where does that leave us?”

“It’s really simple, actually.” You crossed your arms. “The body can’t be moved. The avatar stays here. And so does the growing fetus. You clearly want it so it will be all yours when it’s born. Far away from my destructive hands. Does that work for you?”

After a long—unnecessary bout of silence—Jake finally pushed away from the tank, “Norm will be with you?”

You glared and clenched your jaw, “If that will get you to leave quicker, then yes.”

His tail lashed behind him, “Fine. Do what you want.”

Finally, he left. And you were alone.

After a moment of silence. After a moment of gathering yourself with a bit of pride left , you moved closer toward Dr. Augustine’s tank and frowned down at the growing stomach, “Good luck, kid. If you’re not careful, he just might end up as your father.”

The following days continued as usual, except after you were done with your garden, you headed over to the tank room to check on the fetus. You did things like making sure it’s kept healthy and or safely growing in the womb. Surprisingly, it was just as peaceful as tending to your garden. Sometimes a few scientists would pop in every now and then to check on other tanks, but most times it was just you and Dr. Augustine’s avatar. And it wasn’t entirely so bad being in almost total silence for the first time in a while.

Neytiri would come to the gardens whenever she could. Either keeping you company while giving advice and directions about how to better your crops. Or gently scolding you about how loud you continue to be while trekking through the forest.

Today, you were doing the latter. It was something different, a little change in your usual routine. You now carried your tablet in a bag in case any alert from Dr. Augustine’s avatar notified you as you followed Neytiri through the forest. Mimicking her every movement like you had done last time.

“You move with the forest. You listen. You see.” Neytiri jumped over a branch as you finally finished the climb up the tree the both of you were on. A part of you was envious of her ability to climb with ease while your cheeks only flushed with both being out of breath and embarrassed as she watched you try and fail to climb this godforsaken tree.

“Okay,” You nodded as you settled on the branch with her. It was uncomfortable, especially squatting the way she was. “What exactly am I supposed to be seeing?”

Neytiri frowned, “I cannot make you see. Only you can.”

You looked down at your now bare feet, not really sure how to respond to that or what it really meant. And you had a feeling that if you asked again, she’d probably scold you for it and further confuse you. So instead you looked up at some of the leaves above you. You raised your hand and let your fingers gently graze it, so very gently as if it would crumble beneath your touch.

The forest was overwhelmingly beautiful. Every day it was like you were looking at it for the first time. The healthy trees and plants. The wildlife that you avoided but watched from afar. Hearing the quiet streams of water running about in whichever direction you turned.

Somedays it reminded you of what you lost back on Earth. What the world had done to it. And how many, many years ago it had once looked as beautiful as this.

On other days, you appreciated the forest. For its food, for its beauty. Sometimes you liked the idea of calling this place your new home even though you weren’t quite sure what the exact word ‘home’ meant to you right now.

While caught up in your misty thoughts, you missed the way Neytiri watched you quietly. How she noticed your hidden wonder. The way your lips almost curve up until it’s back in that firm straight line again. Or how your face became gentle even for the slightest second before it’s gone as quickly as it had come. Like you were consciously keeping yourself from being content.

It was intriguing, watching how Sky People worked. Though of course, Neytiri would never admit this out loud.

But most of all, it was intriguing—almost alluring—watching how you worked.

Eventually, she caught sight of your mother’s songcord still wrapped around your wrist with a small frown.

Your slow methodic thoughts were soon interrupted when Neytiri grasped the wrist with your mother’s songcord around it. Instantly you tensed as she brought your wrist closer for her to see. But once you realize she made no sudden moves to take the cord from you, you relax. Only slightly.

She thumbed one of the beads, “When you die, your family sings your songcord to remember your life. And then it is given back to you.” Neytiri looked at you then, curiously. “You do not know your mother’s songcord.”

It wasn’t a question but more a knowing statement. Carefully, you took your wrist back from hers and held it close to your chest, “Obviously, I didn’t get much of a chance to.”

She nodded but didn’t push on the subject. Instead, she stood up on the branch just as something shuffled below the both of you.

Neytiri grabbed your arm and pulled you to your feet, “Come, come!”

Shed led you through the trees. It was especially difficult to keep up going from branch to branch and copying her movements to the best of your ability. At some points, you nearly slipped only to be quickly caught by Neytiri and forced to keep going. You both admired and envied her ease in prowess.

At some point, you both landed in a tree that gave you both a good view of the forest floor. There, was a creature slinking around the thick bushes. Neytiri crouched on the branch to watch the creature just as another came out into the light.

“Nantang.” She pointed at the creature below. “You Sky People call them viperwolf.”

“Nantung.” You repeated slowly, crouching down next to her.

“Nantang.” She corrected.

“Nantang.”

With a small nod, she gave your forehead a little shove with an open palm hand, “You are not good with our language.”

But she didn’t seem annoyed when she said this. Instead, she looked rather amused with the way her ears were raised high and her tail swinging behind her.

Below you, the viperwolves began moving away from the trees and further within the bushes. You watched them curiously, moving Neytiri’s hand from your forehead, “Are they dangerous? The—Nantang?”

“Most are.” Neytiri frowned, dropping her hand to her side. She then stood. “We leave them be. We do not kill unless—unless we have no choice.”

“Hmm, so no hunting them then?” You watched her thoughtfully. “So are you guys vegetarians?” She stared at you blankly. You pressed your lips into a thin line and reconsidered your words, “Do you not eat any meat?”

Understanding crossed her features as she nodded, “We do. Just not them.”

You nodded, crossing your legs together on the branch you were sitting on as you thought about this. After another pause, you took out your tablet from your bag to take down some notes—only for Neytiri to smack your arm and scowl, “No. None of that! We move.”

“Alright, alright.” You sighed, placing your tablet back into your bag. “But if I slip again, just let me fall. I deserve it for being so unathletic.”

Neytiri rolled her eyes and pushed forward. Reluctantly, you followed her.

At some point, you stopped wearing shoes in your avatar body.

After unlinking for the day, you headed over toward the tank room, only to find a certain Na’vi already there talking to Norm. Both noticed you and stopped whatever conversation they had upon seeing you enter.

“Ah, Reeds!” Norm cleared his throat as you approached Dr. Augustine’s avatar. “We were just finishing up here. We’ll be out of your way soon.”

You shrugged, tucking your tablet under your arm as you studied the controls of the avatar’s tank. “It’s not like you’re not allowed in this room. All I do is make sure the baby is healthy and leave. Doesn’t really take that long.” Eventually, you allowed yourself to acknowledge the Na’vi curtly. “Sully.”

“Dr. Reeds.” Jake nodded back with a tight, awkward smile.

“There haven’t been any big updates if that’s what you’re here for.” You said while staring at the avatar. It twitched every now and then as usual.

“We were just catching up.” Norm explained with a faint smile sent your way. “How’s the garden holding up?”

You shrugged, keeping your focus glued to your work, “Everything’s growing just fine. In a few weeks, we might be ready for harvesting. It’s actually fascinating how fast everything’s growing.” If you were in your avatar body, your tail would be wiggling from side to side at this revelation despite your monotone voice. “Neytiri’s been a big help too—the Na’vi way is a lot more effective compared to human techniques and efficiency. I’m actually starting to wonder what else I could learn from her…”’

It wasn’t intentional, but you were really beginning to become intrigued by the Na’vi and their culture. If you were going to be on Pandora—for what seemed like a long time—then you’d have to get accustomed to their ways at some point. Especially, when you didn’t have any particular interest in causing problems with them by doing everything wrong and very human-like. Attempting to do it their way was the only way to go and the easiest path so far.

Norm was grinning at you and you frowned, “What?”

“Nothing. I’ll leave you to it.” He then turned to Jake. “You stayin’ longer?”

Right, you had forgotten about him for a second. Briefly, with little interest, you glanced toward Jake who gave a short nod, “Yeah, I’ll stay for a little bit.” He then met your gaze, matching your guarded expression. “If that’s not a problem”

Norm watched the two of you, noticing the tension.

You stiffened. What the hell was this guy’s problem? Did he enjoy fighting with you, what was it? There was nothing stopping him from waiting until you were done so that he could have the room alone. But for some reason, he thought staying with you there was a good idea.

He must’ve been some kind of masochist. Yeah, had to be.

That, or he was keeping a close eye on you. After all, he did say that he didn’t trust you. Wouldn’t be a totally impossible thought.

So instead, you answered his question with one of your own, “Is it a problem for you?”

His tail swished behind him, “No. Not at all.”

He watched you. And you watched him.

You sniffed and returned your focus back on the avatar, “S’like I said. I won’t be long.”

Cautiously, Norm spoke, “I’ll leave the both of you to it then, yeah?” He walked passed to you, not before mumbling, “Play nice,” and he departed, leaving just you and Jake in the tank room.

The room was deathly quiet as you worked. You figured since Jake was going to be here watching over your every move, you’d ignore him and just do the work. Quick enough for you to leave and be out of his presence. That was all that mattered at the moment.

There was just nothing more to talk about with him. Besides the fetus, you couldn’t fathom what else there was to be discussed.

So far, you were actually doing a good job pretending he wasn’t there. Sure, he was a ten-foot-tall alien that practically towered over you and made you freeze every time something in the corner of your eye moved—it was him every time—the work in front of you was distracting enough. And so was observing the mysteriously pregnant and obviously brain-dead avatar.

It was weird, no, fascinating. How an avatar would end up pregnant without the user actively using it was beyond you. It was like one of those unsolved patient stories or records back on Earth. Only this time you didn’t have to worry much about necrophilia. At least you hoped you didn’t. You put that in your notes.

“I’m sorry about your mother.”

Despite your stubbornness, you froze. Unsure if what you heard was real or perhaps that you imagined it. A part of you hoped you imagined it. A part of you hoped that you had just gone crazy. Yes, that should’ve explained it. Some childish part of you just wanted someone to pity you for once. To say these words to you. And so you imagined them to cope. You imagined someone would for once see you passed the Dr. Reeds. Human. Demon.

It was only your imagination—

“And I’m sorry for how I acted before.” Jake continued on the other side of the tank. Your grip on your tablet tightened as you listened to him. He paused for a long moment as if carefully considering his words. “You’re in a difficult position and I didn’t make it easy on you. That’s on me.”

So much for ignoring him.

You forced yourself to look up at him, a frown on your lips, “What do you hope to gain from this? Why apologize now?”

He winced but didn’t back down. His resolve was much more brazen unlike yours which was still barely hanging on by a thread. Unlike you, he wasn’t exhausted keeping it up all the time. “A truce. Especially, since I will be visiting often.”

Now you were more annoyed than confused, “Why do you need to keep visiting? I already said there haven’t been any updates. Plus, Norm would be telling you whether or not you’re needed here—”

Jake shrugged, ears twitching, “Well if I’m hoping to be her father, I gotta see her progress for myself, don’t I?”

You stopped and watched him both warily and—maybe intrigued by this new piece of information. It wasn’t shocking, really. You kind of figured he would end up taking responsibility for this child. And you had no doubt Neytiri and—possibly Tsu’tey agreed to this considering how much all three of them seemed to care for Dr. Augustine. It wasn’t at all surprising that they decided to raise the child as if it were their own.

“And you’re willing to endure interactions with me for this child?” You chuckled humorlessly. “How brave of you.”

But Jake shook his head, “No, it’s not just about the baby. We have to work together on this. All this hostility—it has to end right here right now. We don’t have to like each other—but I will admit I wasn’t fair to you and I let the situation—your whole arrival get to me. A rookie mistake on my part. I thought—I was protecting my clan.”

For a moment you really considered him. Considered his words. Considered all of him. All of what you knew of Jake Sully so far.

And then you remember Norm’s words to you all those nights ago. When you were going to meet the Tsahik. You remember him saying that they were scared when you had arrived and you remembered understanding that. In the midst of your anger, you understood why they acted the way they did. Still to this day, a part of you knew they were justified in their hatred for the Sky People. Hell, you faced DeVoe and developed a certain dislike toward those people as well.

But it was still your anger. You would not take the blame for something that was out of your control. Something you had no part in. You would not apologize for being put in unfortunate circumstances.

Surprisingly, Jake seemed to read your mind as he said, “I’m not asking anything from you in return. Just a truce and an apology. You deserve that, at least.”

You pressed your lips into a thin line, clutching your tablet close to your chest, avoiding his gaze, his expectant look that waited for you to respond. Right now you really wished you were in your avatar body because you hated him looking down at you. You hated being small around him.

But your steeled spine made up for it at least. “We don’t have to like each other.”

Jake nodded, “We don’t.”

You sniffed, “Good. Because I don’t particularly like you still.”

“Yeah,” He sighed, massaging his face. “Sometimes I don’t either.”

Neytiri didn’t come the next day. Which wasn’t out of the ordinary. Some days she just didn’t come. She had a baby and a clan to worry about after all. You couldn’t exactly expect her to put all of that on hold for you and your little garden.

Plus, there wasn’t much to check in the garden anyway today. All you had to do was water it and make sure the sun was shining on the correct plants. So, you spent most of your time foraging in the forest—making less noise like Neytiri showed you—gathering new fruits and mushrooms to plant once your other ones were finished growing. Of course, you’ll already have the seeds from the newly grown plants but it was nice to have a few extras just in case.

When you finished your foraging and stored all the fruits and mushrooms in a safe place, you unlinked from your avatar and went to the tank room. Technically, you weren’t really required to check it every day once you got a better understanding of the tank. It was specifically created to hold a growing avatar, sure, but you didn’t know if that stretched to a pregnant avatar or not. So checking on it every day was an extra precaution.

You weren’t exactly well informed about how the whole avatar creation or technology worked. All you knew was the information that was given to you through your mother’s diary videos. Even then she really didn’t go into too much detail about it as she kept jumping from one point to another with haste and excitement.

So, during your visits to the tank room, you took notes. By now you are almost halfway through your journal the more you write. And it wasn’t even organized, just a bunch of random notes and thoughts on a piece of paper. With writing that looked like chicken scratch.

When you had nothing more to write or look at on the tablet, you examined what would be Dr. Augustine’s face on the avatar.

Norm came in at some point and you asked him, “What was she like? Dr. Augustine.”

He’d smile fondly at the avatar, his eyes glazed over in memory, “A brilliant woman who cared a lot for the Na’vi. You know she had a school? It’s what made her fall in love with it all. The children loved her.”

You raised your brows curiously when he said that, “You mention you’re around children for most of your day. Are you running her school now or something?”

“No.” He laughed as if the thought were impossible. “No, I just help out with the Omatikaya children whenever I can. Sure, I do teach them English but not on the level Grace did it. Not even close.” His eyes twinkled when he looked at you. “I think she would’ve liked you.”

You didn’t say anything to that. Instead, you offered, “Don’t sell yourself short, Spellman.”

“Same to you, Reeds.”

A few days went by and it was time to harvest your garden.

Neytiri came with Neteyam strapped to her chest. He was wide awake, staring around wide-eyed and curious as usual. Your chest felt just a bit lighter watching him, his innocence so very infectious. You had never been around many babies—no younger siblings and all. It was always you and your mother. And many other scientists. Come to think of it, you weren’t really surrounded by many children your age. If any at all.

You filled the second basket up with more fruits from your garden before glancing toward Neytiri who was picking the mushrooms and collecting them in her arms.

“How are they?” You called.

Neytiri looked back at you and nodded, “Very healthy. Enough to feed an entire village.”

You walked over to her and hummed, tail swinging slightly. “You think it’s too much?”

She shook her head and smiled contently, “No, you did really well with them. Do you plan to make more once you’ve harvested?”

“That’s the hope.” You nodded, crossing your arms. Neteyam’s large yellow eyes looked at you quietly as you moved around her to get a better look at the mushrooms. “Maybe I’ll dial it back with the next one. Technically, I didn’t plant these, all we did was save it from dying. Imagine if we let them die, all of this. What a waste it would’ve been.”

“I’ll help whenever you do,” Neytiri assured, which surprised you. She then grabbed your wrist. “Come. We should put this all away. We’ll travel through the trees again today.”

Intrigued by this, you nodded. After you brought all the freshly picked fruits, vegetables, and mushrooms to the scientists to put away, you followed Neytiri into the forest.

It was the same as last time. Both you and Neytiri quietly moved through the trees—it was a struggle still to climb again but thankfully Neytiri didn’t notice. Or if she did, she didn’t say anything. Just correct your body whenever you are doing something wrong. Whenever she did correct you though, it made the climb a little easier as you went.

You ran into one of those viperwolves but were able to get past them without any problems—again, thanks to Neytiri. But you did eventually end up running into a couple more creatures that seemed to be less dangerous.

One of them being those horse-like creatures.

“Pa’li,” Neytiri had called these creatures while petting one of them.

You watched them in awe and interest as she mounted it. She took her braid—queue—and placed it near the pa’li’s antenna. Your eyes widened when the tendrils between the queue and the antenna connected. Once it did, the creature calmed underneath Neytiri. Becoming familiar with her, as if they had known each other for a while. And maybe they did.

Neytiri smiled down at it, “We bond with them just as we bond with the rest of the life here. It is our way.”

A few other pa’li galloped toward you. One nudged past you but was quite skittish about it. At first, you didn’t approach it right away. Instead, you tried to remember how Neytiri did it. Slow in approach, which actually worked. The pa’li watched you, both warily and intrigued.

When you were close enough, you grabbed your queue and placed it near the antenna. Awed, you watched the tendrils slowly connect. A sudden unfamiliar feeling hit your body when your queue connected with the pa’li. The sensations were strange but you felt another emotion that wasn’t your own. The pa’li.

Scared but curious about you. Hesitant to get near you but also feeling the bond beginning through your queue. It was all so strange and unlike anything you’ve ever felt before.

A sudden shudder hit your spine just as the pa’li screeched and ran off, breaking the connection.

You grunted while Neytiri laughed, “Maybe next time, tanhi.”

There was a small pout on your lips, a quiet part of you missing the strange and new connection, “Guess I’m just not an animal person.”

“You will try again soon.” She assured as she slid off her pa’li with Neteyam babbling against her chest. “But it will not be today. I must leave for a hunt soon. Another day, perhaps, I will teach you.”

You were surprised at this, “Really? Teaching a Sky Person, huh? Does that mess with you morally or…?”

Neytiri frowned, “Teaching you will help you survive. Not me.” She patted the snout of the pa’li before watching it gallop away with his group. “It is not the first time I have taught a Sky Person our way.”

It took you a moment to realize what she meant, “You taught Sully, didn’t you?”

She did not answer this of course, but you had a feeling you already knew it without her having to say it. “Do you want to learn or not?”

Your tail swished, Neytiri noticed. “I’d like that. Besides, you’re a pretty good teacher as far as I can tell. I don’t think I’d want anyone else.” There was probably no one else who would even offer to teach you like Neytiri did. So, this was the kind of offer you couldn’t refuse.

Neytiri nodded, the beginnings of a smile reaching her lips. For a moment you admired her smile.

And then the next you envied it.

Jake was in the tank room on another day. You entered as usual in human form. A week had passed since your agreed-upon ‘truce’ and you were slowly growing accustomed to his presence the best way you could. Most days, he wasn’t always there. Those were the days when you were relieved and felt like you could relax a bit.

But on the days he was there, you took to ignoring him like you originally planned. And thankfully, he didn’t seem bothered by that. Sometimes he’d ask questions here and there about the fetus, but other than that, the two of you were in your own little worlds.

And you were fine with this. Perhaps Jake had the right idea about this little truce. It certainly made things easier. You were still tense around him of course—mostly because you felt like he was watching you whenever he thought you weren’t looking—but it was manageable.

Upon observing the avatar, you noticed the belly bump becoming just a little more visible as time went by—which wasn’t much time at all. You began to wonder about the differences between Na’vi pregnancy to human pregnancy.

Currently, you are going through past video logs of Grace Augustine to get some idea of how her avatar came to be pregnant.

Once more you were reminded that you weren’t alone as Jake spoke from the other side of the room, “Any theories?”

You glanced over your shoulder to see that he was watching you work with an intense look—or maybe his face was naturally like that.

A beat went by before you considered responding to his question, “Besides divine intervention? No, not really.” You turned back to the logs and made a face when Norm started showing up more in her videos. You turned back to Jake who was still watching you, “Norm and Grace didn’t—”

“No, no, they didn’t.” Jake quickly said, looking just as uncomfortable as you felt asking. “God, at least I hope they didn’t—I wasn’t always around them when linked up—he was always with Trudy actually—you know what, I rather not think about it.”

You hummed, “It was worth a shot asking.” After shutting and placing your tablet down on the table you sat at, you sunk further into your chair as you began mumbling to yourself. “Looks like I might as well have to stick with your Eywa impregnating her. Virgin Mary and all.”

“Right.”

Another silence settled between you two. You wrote down in your notes while absentmindedly listening to Jake’s quiet breaths further behind you, too acutely aware of his presence.

“About what I said about not trusting you…” Jake started and you refrained from rolling your eyes at the interruption of your note-taking and thoughts. “I’m not here to monitor you or anything and I didn’t mean—”

“Sure you did.” You say simply, glancing back at him with an impassive expression. “No point in going back on it now.”

“I was reckless with my words—”

“Reckless words have some truth to them.” You shrugged and turned back to your notes. “If it helps, I don’t trust you either, Sully.”

“Neytiri does.” That made you pause. That made you look back at him in both defense and confusion, trying to figure out just what he was trying to get at here. Jake wore a look of contemplation as if he were trying to figure something out himself, “She was the first one to agree to you watching over Grace’s kid. She fought Tsu’tey on it when usually she’d be on his side whenever it came to humans. That means something to me.”

You considered his words. Truth be told, you didn’t know why Neytiri agreed to it. Frankly, it was going to happen either way—but having Neytiri unexpectedtly on board with the plan wasn’t something any of you saw coming. You still didn’t necessarily know how to feel about that yet.

But it seemed Jake did.

Instead of addressing it, you clicked your pen close, “I’ll send updates through Norm if anything changes. Maybe through Neytiri too whenever she makes her rounds over here.”

After a pause, Jake nodded, “Copy that.” Surprisingly—and quite relieving—he began to take his leave. Which meant that the conversation was now done, thankfully. Before he left the room, he turned back to you with a twitch of his tail, “And thank you, Doc.”

“Just doing my job, Sully.” You shrugged, closing your notebook. “It’s about time, right?”

It meant something. It had to. Even if he wasn’t sure if he believed in all this Eywa stuff, he believed in Neytiri. He respected Mo’at.

They saw something in you that he clearly could not see just yet. Perhaps it was now time he had to open his eyes.

Perhaps it was time for Jake to finally see.

hiii! wow, sorry about the wait! my schedule got so crazy the past couple of weeks, i barely had a moment to actually sit down and write this. but finally, here is chapter five!

i know a lot of you were worried i dropped this but don't worry, i'm still here! just barely surviving life lol.

anyways, looks like jake and reeds are finding each other at least tolerable now...

(i'm not adding anymore people anymore!)

taglist: @doggyteam2028 @bigbootahjudy @innercreationflower @n7cje @celi-xxmoon @readerofallthingss @sillyblues @squirtlebob @saturnhas82moons @1mawh0re @aprosiacperson @loserwithnofriends @garfieldsladybird

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