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honeybeejam · 5 months

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new year's eve; theodore nott x reader

pairing: theodore nott x fem!hufflepuff!reader, slight harry potter x reader, reader is flirty with all of her friends pretty much

warnings: reader presents as and is referred to as a woman who uses she and her pronouns, alcohol and drugs, partying, swearing, suggestive – characters are of age!

synopsis: it’s new year’s eve, and pansy convinces you to seduce harry in order to make theo jealous.

word count: 3k

There’s nothing you hated more than parties. Between the sweaty bodies, lowered inhibitions, and the bass thumping through the floor of whichever house’s common room met their unsightly fate each weekend, there were enough reasons for you to avoid them. Even New Year’s Eve, a holiday for partying, was one you dreaded. You had better things to do most nights, and the noise gave you migraines. Cedric would come barreling up to the Hufflepuff table in the Great Hall at breakfast the next day in order to dish out all of the gossip from the night before, anyway. You would listen politely and nod your head, engaged but too kind to want to share the details with anyone else. That’s if you hadn’t heard them from Pansy first. As much as you loved being friends with both of them, you were never one to gossip.

Unfortunately, your task of the night was to do exactly what you hated. Pansy absolutely refused to let you miss a party that Slytherin was hosting, especially because you were all at Hogwarts for the holidays. The Slytherins had a tradition of hosting this particular party, outdoing themselves each year. You had happened to miss it every single year, but you wanted to fulfill her wish for your last one. She claimed that not only would it be more fun with you, but it also promoted “interhouse unity” and that it’s good for the younger students to see your friendship.

She didn’t respond when you reminded her that no younger students would be in attendance.

You wanted to make her happy anyway, so you promised yourself you’d agree to her later.

You were more of an introvert than most Hufflepuffs, preferring to keep a wide group of acquaintances and a far narrower group of friends. As odd as it seemed to most, that group of friends was home to the most notorious Slytherins at Hogwarts. Each of them was descendants of the vilest Death Eaters in wizarding history. You didn’t see them as any different. They were all big softies, but you knew that part of that was your own influence.

You had met Pansy in your first year, during a double Transfiguration class with the Slytherins. Pansy had answered McGonagall’s question incorrectly, earning a snort from Draco. She had sprinted from the room in tears. Despite protests and a detention threat from the Professor, you sprinted after her. You two had been inseparable ever since your talk in the corridors that afternoon. You watched each other grow, holding hands through every struggle you faced. You were there for Pansy when she needed help with processing emotions and understanding herself, while Pansy defended you when you were made fun of for being too gentle or soft. Pansy had given you the nickname Sunshine, claiming your gentle nature and normally bubbly energy were reminiscent of the massive star. Everyone began to adopt the nickname, and by third year you barely heard your real name.

Which is why you were so reluctant to say no to Pansy, no matter the circumstances. And that proved to be an issue in your current situation, when Pansy was on her knees in front of the sofa in the Slytherin common room, pleading. She had called an “emergency family meeting” after the boys returned from their morning Quidditch practice. Quidditch training for the Slytherins didn’t stop for anything, even the holidays.

“Please, Sunshine! I cannot show up to a party we’re hosting without you! If you wear gold and I wear green, we’d complement each other perfectly. We’ll be the hottest there!” She whined; her hands clasped together dramatically.

“Wow, Pansy, I never pegged you as the begging type.” Draco drawled. He was sitting in an armchair nearby, wrapped in a plush blanket.

‘If you don’t shut that bloody mouth of yours, I’ll peg you, Malfoy.” She hissed back, popping her hand up gracefully to present her middle finger to the blonde boy. While Pansy sat in front of Sunshine’s spot on the couch, their friends sprawled out over the rest of the common room. Pansy had called an “emergency family meeting” immediately after their early morning quidditch practice, and they were all exhausted. Draco was the only one who was fully awake in his armchair. Opposite Draco sat Blaise in a matching armchair, only slightly more tired. Draco gave him a glare when he suggested that the pegging might be enjoyable, since Draco gives off “bottom energy.”

Mattheo sat in the center of the sofa with his head leaning on your shoulder. He was awake, but his eyes were shut, trying to convey to all of you that he was uninterested in your shenanigans. Next to him was Enzo, his head resting on the arm of the sofa as he stretched his legs over you two. Theodore was star-fished on the rug, completely knocked out.

“You know I’ll never force you to come, but maybe you’ll finally get that kiss?” Pansy mentioned in a lower voice, giving you a knowing look.

Your focus turned briefly to Theodore softly snoring on the carpet below you, clad in his Quidditch jersey and a plush coat. A beanie covered his hair, likely to prevent the winter weather from bothering him.

He looked peaceful, beautiful.

You had developed a crush on Theodore Nott right after becoming close with Pansy. She introduced you to the boys nearly immediately, grateful to have another feminine presence among the group. She had told you that “the circle jerk needed another innocent bystander to suffer” with her. You immediately fell for Theodore’s quiet, subdued nature and his clear blue eyes. The more time you spent around him, the more you wanted to kiss his cheek when he was rambling or hold his hand when you sat next to each other in Potions. The thoughts that filled your mind at night were much less sweet. Over the years you had tried to get over your crush on him, but it had quickly developed into infatuation and was currently at a level of love that excited and terrified you. Pansy always told you that she could tell he felt the same, but you had never let her convince you.

Mattheo opened his eyes to what Pansy said, seeing you blush deeply as you shook your head, your own eyes still focused on the boy on the floor.

“You know he doesn’t fancy me, Pans. I can’t embarrass myself like that. I would be mortified.”

“So, then you blame it on the alcohol, are you daft? It’s New Year’s Eve! The perfect excuse and the perfect plan to get some dick!” Mattheo cackled at himself, lifting his head from your shoulder to flick you in the forehead. You responded by raising your fist at him and bringing it down towards his lap, to which he leaped off the sofa and backed away. Enzo cleared his throat as you began to stand up to chase after Mattheo.

“Merlin, Sunshine. I’ll give you 10 galleons if you go.” He groaned out, smacking his head back against the armrest in annoyance. You slowly returned to your sitting position, sending Mattheo a fierce glare across the room.

Theodore stirred awake at the sound of everyone’s dramatics, offering you a reassuring smile. “It’s always more fun with you, sole mia.” He grumbled out sleepily, causing your stomach to feel warm as you tried to prevent any reaction from showing on your face. Still, you blushed, knowing you had to acknowledge him. He knew you couldn’t say no to Pansy, he was just giving you that final push along.

“That’s sweet Teddy, thank you…and you’ll mix me a drink if I go, Enzo?” Why not embrace the opportunity?

“Fine, if you two let me go back to sleep before I strangle you.”

Hello text string my old friend. I've come to talk with you again...

“You look absolutely stunning, Pansy. Luna will be thrilled.” The door to the girl’s dormitories swung open as Pansy led a half-ready Hufflepuff into the room.

“Thank you, Sunshine,” Pansy grinned, “I have a feeling Nott won’t know what’s coming for him either.”

You wore a strapless gold dress. It was silk, the fabric flowing gently down the curves of your body until it rested softly at your upper thigh. You had planned to finish getting ready with Pansy and then meet the boys in the common room.

“Theodore isn’t looking, you know. I heard just last week that he had gotten with some Ravenclaw. He isn’t interested, especially not in me.” You mumbled as you applied your lipgloss. “Good thing I’m so familiar with the corner of the Slytherin common room, sounds like the sofa is calling my name for the night.”

Pansy turned to you to complain but froze when the two of you made eye contact. A brilliant idea popped into her head. She smiled at you with a glint in her eyes, and you knew she was up to something.

“Would you fuck Potter?” She began to laugh hysterically as you spit water at the bathroom mirror, sputtering and coughing.

“Fucking what?”

The devious Slytherin girl grabbed your jaw and turned you back towards the mirror, squeezing your face until you understood what she meant.

“I’m wearing Gryffindor colors?” You asked softly, beginning to understand what Pansy was getting at.

“I don’t know if you’ve ever noticed, but Theo isn’t very fond of people putting their hands on what’s his,” She spoke with calculated precision, trying to convey her point as gently as possible. “Lipgloss transfers, and red looks hot on you.”

The way you shrieked would’ve had any bystander believe you had met your fate in the girls’ dormitories, but you were doubled over in laughter, giggles spilling from your lips as you looked at Pansy like she had turned into a cerberus. “You want me, who is hopeless at flirting, to seduce Harold Potter? The guy who couldn’t take a hint if it was taped to a bludger and thrown at his head? Sure.”

“I can teach you the basics, Sunshine. You’re not hopeless, I promise. I can tell you that just by what I see in the corridors. You get a lot of stares; you just need confidence. Here. Roll your shoulders back and lift your chin a little. You’re pretty, flaunt it.” Pansy walked across the room and stood at the far wall, turning around to face you.

“When you walk tonight? Sway your hips a little,” Pansy smirked, beginning to walk towards you, her hips moving smoothly in small circles, nearly hypnotizing. She stopped a few feet from you, and her tongue darted out slightly as she licked her lower lip. She giggled. You snapped back to attention, slightly dazed.

“See? Easy. Even if you let him know it’s to make Theo jealous, Potter is a bull-headed Gryffindor. You’re wearing his colors, love, and he’s an athlete. You’ve got this in the bag,” Pansy broke out into a full laugh at that. You tilted your head slightly, contemplating. If Pansy could do it to anyone, why couldn’t you? You could even tell Harry beforehand. After so much longing, you decided it was worth the risk. You were going to make Theodore Nott jealous.

Although the Slytherin common room was usually quite dim, tonight it was filled with smoke, bodies, and flashing lights. It seemed as if they had pulled out all the stops for this one. You maneuvered your way through the crowd. You had come up with a plan with Pansy before joining the party. First, you would find the boys. You’d make sure Theodore just missed you. Then, you would approach Potter. Nothing too much, just enough for Theo to notice him with you. A little touch here, a laugh there. Hopefully, Theo would get jealous and make a move. You were starting to doubt yourself. What if he didn’t like you at all? It had been nearly seven years. What if you had misconstrued those soft smiles and longing glances? You shook with fear at the thought of rejection but pushed it aside as you noticed Mattheo and Enzo over by the drinks. You rushed over, making eye contact with Enzo to remind him of his promise. As if on cue, he lifted a cup, handing it to you as you reached their sides.

“You look fucking hot, Sunshine,” Mattheo blurted out shamelessly, looking you up and down. He was never one to keep his thoughts to himself. Usually comments like this were followed by Theo threatening him, to which he would finally shut up. However, you found it hilarious.

“Thanks, Matty,” you laughed. “On a mission tonight.” You took a sip of the drink, wincing. It tasted like Enzo knew what you were up to and added alcohol accordingly.

“Operation Ride the Italian Stallion?” Mattheo and Pansy were the only ones who you had officially told, being the closest to them. Mattheo often made fun of you for it, finding humor in the way you’d blush and deflect.

“Holy shit, Sunshine, you have a crush on Theo?” Enzo interrupted suddenly.

“Where have you been? And what the hell is in this drink?” you asked, taking another gulp. Your crush on Theodore was quite obvious, at least to everyone except for Lorenzo and Theodore himself.

“Honestly? I’m not sure. I know its strong.” You grinned at that and choked down the remainder.

After a few minutes of talk about Enzo’s latest escapade, a tall man came walking towards the table: one you immediately recognized as Theodore Nott. Your Theo, which meant it was time.

You spotted Harry on the opposite side of the room, throwing an apologetic glance towards the other boys as you made your way towards him. You swayed your hips slightly as you went, just as Pansy had taught you. Theo looked at you in confusion in the corner of your eye, but you turned your attention fully towards Harry once you reached him. You had noticed Theo glance down at your waist, though, filling you with giddiness and confidence.

“Hey, Harry! I thought I’d check in on you, it’s been a while.” A blatant lie. You had just spoken to him last Wednesday during Defense Against the Dark Arts. Great start.

“Hey, Sunshine! Is everything okay?” he asked, voice laced with friendly concern. You winced at how he had already noticed your weirdness. You were friends with Harry, but you had never been around him without the company of Hermione (and occasionally Ron). You thought he was less familiar with you. Despite the mess up, you leaned in towards his ear, speaking at a nearly inaudible volume over the music.

“Look over to your left, near the drinks. Is there a tall, devilishly handsome man currently glaring in this direction with the fire of a thousand suns?” You placed a hand on his bicep, whether to push the narrative further or let him know that you were acting was unclear to him. He blushed and stuttered anyhow.

“Y-yeah, Nott? I’d say he’s got at least four Unforgivables on the mind, and, uh, there’s only three.” You smiled as wide as you could to try and let him know you were only teasing, but he only glanced at your lips to examine the red gloss painted over them. You decided to tell him outright, not wanting to unfairly lead him on.

“Thank Merlin it’s working, I thought Matty was going to kill me if I didn’t get his attention,” You pushed just a little further, placing a hand on his chest. “My friends have been pestering me to do this since at least fourth year. I owe you at least three Sugar Quills and a bag of Fizzing Whizzbees. I’ll throw in a chocolate frog or two if you can muck up and do something bold.”

Although Harry was shy, you knew he was a simple boy. You knew the way to his heart from the few nights you sat in the Gryffindor common room until the early hours of the morning with the Golden Trio. He would always carry candy on hand, and you would always replenish his stock. Usually, it was in exchange for the latest gossip you had learned from Cedric and Pansy or to make up for what you had stolen during your time together, but tonight was special.

He perked up at the offer of candy and immediately leaned in towards your neck, presumably to whisper in your ear or something of the sort. Instead, you remembered what Pansy said earlier.

Lipgloss stains.

You tilted your head to press a kiss under Harry’s ear, giggling as his head lifted to look at you in shock. Before you could explain your thought process, you felt a firm grip on your side, near your hips. The hand spun you around, giving you a full view of Theodore’s broad chest. Your glance trailed up to meet his, pausing slightly at his shoulders to admire.

“Teddy,” you addressed him politely and with fervor, nervous and excited about what would happen next.

“Sunshine,” He responded, his eyes breaking contact to drift down your body slowly. He took his time to reach your face again, his glare hardening when he made it there. “Can I speak to you for a moment?”

“Of course, Teddy!” He gently grasped your wrist, wasting no time pulling you towards the doors to the corridor. He stopped abruptly to whip around towards Harry.

“Tieni le mani lontane dalle mie cose, Potter,” Theodore hissed. Neither of you knew what he had said, but you both knew it wasn’t friendly. You mouthed a ‘sorry, thank you’ at him just in case.

When the door to the common room closed, Theo immediately trapped you in between himself and the cold wall of the dungeons. The corridor was empty: all of the students were either home for the holidays or in the common room behind you. You could feel the heat radiating from his skin, the anger buzzing like a wasps’ nest.

He spoke to you gently but firmly, his accent growing stronger as his frustration poured out.

“Would you like to tell me what that was, sole mia?” He asked sarcastically, looking down at your lips to see the red gloss reflect off of the dim lights in the empty hallway. He shifted to press his knee between your legs, pushing them apart slightly. You took in a deep breath, your voice shaking slightly.

“What what was, Teddy?”

“Your little show with the Chosen One? And why are you in Gryffindor colors? You look beautiful when you wear any color, bella ragazza. but you truly belong in green. Definitely not gold, and especially not red.”

You felt a slight pressure on your lower lip as you looked down to see Theodore’s thumb in the center. He pulled gently, dragging the color down your chin as he grinned at you. “I don’t know if you can tell, sole mia, but I’m entranced by you, body and mind.” He confessed, letting out a heavy exhale at the end of his sentence.

“Please tell me you aren’t joking, Theodore. You wouldn’t do that to me.” Tears threatened to spill as you finally glanced at him. His eyes were soft, loving. He was serious.

“Never. You’re constantly in my thoughts, Sunshine. You make me smile even when I feel like I can’t feel anymore. We call you Sunshine because you bring light to our lives, you know? I’d be six feet under my dad’s heel without you,” His eyes softened as he caught the pink dusting your cheeks and the upturned corners of your mouth.

“You just call me Sun, actually,” You correct with a smile, hoping he’ll approve of your Italian.

“Sole mia. My sun.” He tilted her chin up to force her to look at him as he let out a low, gravelly “Mine.”

You suddenly heard cheering from the common room. Shouts of numbers rang out through the dungeons. You followed along quietly, each number getting closer and closer until you finally hit one with the crowd, your voice barely escaping.

His lips were on yours, the red gloss smearing over his face and mixing with saliva and years of longing. You tasted like firewhiskey and cinnamon and him of butterbeer, an intoxicating mix that made your head spin. When you finally broke apart to gasp for air, you pressed your forehead against his. His eyes were wide, pupils so dilated that his blue eyes looked nearly black. You couldn’t read the emotions going through his head, but you knew they were similar to the ones you felt stirring inside yourself.

“Happy New Year, Teddy.”

“Happy New Year, sole mia. Any chance you’d like to smear that lipstick somewhere else?”

“Theodore!”

note: “Tieni le mani lontane dalle mie cose, Potter,” means “Keep your hands off what’s mine, Potter.” I don’t speak Italian so please let me know if you notice any mistakes! i hope you enjoy, happy new years xx

- bee <3

#harry potter #theodore nott #theodore nott x you #harry potter x reader #lorenzo zurzolo x reader #lorenzo zurzolo x you #theo nott smut #theo nott #theo nott x y/n #theo nott x you #theodore nott/you #theodore nott/reader #theodore nott x reader #theo nott x reader #hp #harry james potter x reader

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lanasblood · 11 months

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JUST NETEYAM | neteyam x reader

pairing: olo'eyktan!neteyam x f!reader

summary: despite being from a different clan and expected to marry the leader of the omatikaya without knowing him, you agree to it for the sake of your family, but doubts start haunting you the moment you set foot in the clan, causing you to plan your escape on the day of your mating ceremony.

word count: 8k

warnings: arranged marriage trope, fluffffff, love-at-first-sight kinda thing, a bit of angst in the beginning, traditions, non-sexual nudity, prejudiced reader, royal neteyam, he is just such a prince it's unreal!!

note: all characters are aged up by five years. the title eyktan/eykte (leader) being unofficially reserved for the olo'eyktan (clan leader)'s mate made sense to me since both are supposed to rule together. please correct me if i’m wrong. see end notes for more.

* gif‘s not mine.

You will learn to love her. He remembered his mother's voice, and he recalled the vast expanse of the sky, where billowing clouds danced gracefully and the wind embraced him with gentle caresses. The sky, like an endless canvas, painted in hues of blue, purple, and gold, held a beauty that stirred his soul.

Instead of roaring waves crashing against the cliffs, he witnessed the majestic flight of ikrans, soaring high above the jagged peaks. Their wings, strong and mighty, carried him through the heavens, as if he were a part of their elegant dance. Gone were the humpbacked sea surfaces, replaced by the boundless freedom of the open sky. The white foam, once adorning the ocean's crown, now transformed into fluffy clouds, resembling intricately woven blankets. It was as if the heavens themselves provided a soft embrace, offering comfort and warmth.

They were little things, nothing really worth mentioning, such as the sun rays tickling his soft skin, or the laughter of his siblings echoing in his memories, not as they played with ilus in the water, but now as they soared alongside him, sharing the pure joy of flight. Even the taste of sea salt, carried on the wind, found a place in this ethereal domain. With closed eyes, he could almost feel a delicate touch of salt upon his lips, a reminder of the distant ocean and the memories it held. He missed those times. Not because he preferred swimming over climbing, or blue over green, that was completely not the case, but because he missed his youth, even from a time when his family sought shelter. He missed being careless, learning new things, having fun, and he would've laughed at his younger self who, even though rarely, complained about the number of duties and responsibilities he had on his shoulders — because nothing could compare to the duties and responsibilities he faced now as Olo'eyktan.

So for once, he liked to lose himself in memories of the sea before he pictured himself back in the sky, on the back of his ikran, where he found a world of wonder, where every little detail became a cherished treasure. The sky had become his limitless playground, an infinite expanse that awakened his spirit and filled his heart with boundless freedom.

He had been incredibly nostalgic ever since his parents had announced the arrangement for him; how overjoyed they had told him that they had found a mate for him, and he guessed it was self-explanatory why a part of him wanted to hold on to his past; not ready to take that further step.

Standing there and observing the preparations and exquisite decorations his people had arranged, he realized that the efforts he had endured for this ceremony were not in vain. The Omatikaya had gone to great lengths to create a magnificent celebration, honoring the union of a new pair; the one of their clan leader. Intricate craftsmanship was displayed in the decorations made from natural materials, the delicate floral arrangements that adorned the surroundings, and the gentle flicker of candles all held meaningful details. However, despite the beauty surrounding him, he couldn't help but yearn for the moment when it would all finally be over.

Five moons ago, he had thought not much of it, he had been convinced he'd find a way out of it, and here he was. Trapped in memories, in the infinity of the skies and seas, here, time stood still, so that eternity could begin, and right here he felt well, he felt safe.

"Bro!" A hand clawed onto his upper arm, abruptly pulling him out of his thoughts, as a breathless Lo'ak stood before him — or rather, hunched over, supporting himself with his other hand on his knees, and breathing deeply, inhaling and exhaling heavily.

"Mawey, brother." Neteyam carefully placed his hand on his brother's head and sought his face, trying to understand the situation. Lo'ak just shook his head hastily, trying to control his breathing.

"Are you okay?" Lo'ak was clearly not okay, yet Neteyam tried to maintain his composure as unpleasant images infiltrated his thoughts, his mind going through any possible worst case scenario. He hoped that nothing had happened to his family, and involuntarily, he felt annoyed that he hadn't seen Tuk and Kiri for a while, worrying about them.

"I got it, I got it." Lo'ak shook his hand off, breathing normally again. "It's.." He took a deep breath before saying it all at once, "It's your mate-to-be."

Neteyam's ears perked up in alarm. Lo'ak, having somewhat calmed his breathing, cringed, now struggling with his words instead. Perhaps he shouldn't have announced this so dramatically in front of his older brother, because he now feared that one problem would become two.

"Yes?" Neteyam patiently but firmly encouraged him to continue. He was suddenly caught in a conflict within himself, wrestling to keep his expression neutral, knowing that it would raise unease among curious ears and attentive watchers.

Apprehensive of his brother's reaction, Lo'ak didn't know how to say it, "Uh, I kinda… please don't be mad at me."

"Spill it, Lo'ak," Neteyam hissed through gritted teeth, now impatient and slightly on edge due to his younger brother's panicking behavior.

He feared the worst now but he didn't want to jump to premature conclusions. Still, something clearly must've happened and he inwardly hoped for her to be alright and safe. Yes, she was a stranger to him whom he had never seen once, but she was soon to become the closest and most important person in his life after all.

Lo'ak's gaze was filled with guilt, when he unsurely admitted, "I, uh… lost… her…?"

And that was it. All the facial features of the otherwise composed clan leader contorted as he looked at his brother in disbelief. Lost her? How do you lose a grown person?

The inner leader within him knew that he immediately had to gather as much information as possible about this situation. Finding her before the ceremony was crucial, and he should coordinate efforts with their best trackers and devise a strategic plan to cover all possible areas she might have gone.

His false, rationalized side tried to reassure him, suggesting that nothing had happened. Perhaps Lo'ak hadn't seen her in the tent, or she had been engrossed in a conversation. Maybe she simply got caught up in preparations and lost track of time. It's not uncommon for delays to happen before important ceremonies.

His emotionally calibrated side couldn't help but worry about her well-being, as well as the well-being of others. What if she had sustained an injury? What if she required assistance? And with a touch of paranoia, he feared something much worse, considering sabotage and abduction.

His reflected psychological side, however, completely dismissed these possibilities, because most likely, his family had intimidated her, and she had gotten cold feet. And if she truly matched him as well as his parents had described, then he could assess her emotional state and he had a feeling where she would be right now.

Ultimately, his strategically valuable side gained the upper hand and decided to embark on the search immediately, knowing exactly where to start.

"What did you tell her?"

Lo'ak looked at him completely lost, "Nothing, really, just that you're Olo'eyktan," he shrugged, "It's not like she didn't know that already."

And once again, he remembered his elders' words, and for the first time, a subtle sense of doubt began to creep into his mind, when he recalled what they had said:

You will learn to love her.

TWO HOURS AGO.

"I must inspect her body." You had expected many things, but not this. You had already come to terms with the idea of never being able to make your own choices again after everything you had experienced in the past couple of hours. And yet, you found yourself taken aback by this one simple sentence.

Five moons ago, you had been sitting in your family's tent in front of your parents when your mother had dropped the announcement that had changed everything. That day, you had been feeling uneasy from the moment you had gotten up, unable to quite place why. But when your mother had revealed the news, it had all become clear, changing everything.

"My daughter, you have been chosen by the Omatikaya to become their Olo'eyktan's mate," your mother had said, beaming with pride.

Immediately, your heart had sunk. While you had heard of the clan, you had remained a foreigner to their lands, unfamiliar with their Olo'eyktan, a man you had never encountered. It had become painfully clear to you that you were not ready to unite in a mating ceremony with a complete stranger, devoid of both familiarity and love.

"Do I have to, mother?" you had asked, your voice shaking with emotion.

"But yes, this is a great honor for our family. You were chosen, out of all the clans, out of all the girls in our clan, to marry Toruk Makto's eldest son," your mother had said, trying to convince you, "It's a sign of respect and trust."

"But what if I don't love him? What if we're not compatible?"

"My daughter," your mother's voice had carried firmness, "you are being unreasonable. This is not about love. It is about the well-being of our clan and the future of our people. Arrangements are part of our traditions for generations, and they have served us well. Your father and I, too, entered into an arranged union, and we have found happiness together."

She had continued, her tone resolute, "He is a commendable man. We have known of him and his achievements since he was but a child. As the successor to his father, he carries the legacy of our shared battles against our enemies." You had remembered all of the stories and tales, about a time before your time, about your father and mother fighting against the skypeople at the side of Toruk Makto. "For he led the clans to victory and if his son has inherited even a fraction of his character, you could not ask for a more suitable companion. He is talented, responsible, a formidable warrior, and an exceptional leader."

Your father had spoken up for the first time. "Your mother is right. The Omatikaya are good people, and their Olo'eyktan is a good man. He will take care of you and you will be happy together."

You had felt like you were suffocating at the realization that your own family had been willing to force you into a loveless marriage just for the sake of tradition, honor, and alliances.

"But what about my own happiness?" your voice had been barely above a whisper.

"Your happiness is important, my daughter," your mother had spoken, "But this is not just about you, you have a duty for our clan. You will become Eykte, and eventually Tsahìk, too, you will grant our clan safety and protection for generations to come."

You had known you weren't going to win this argument, feeling trapped, and so, so helpless. Looking down at your hands, you had been feeling tears welling up in your eyes. You couldn't imagine a life with someone you didn't love.

Your mother had put a hand on your shoulder. "It is okay, you will understand one day. We are doing what is best for you and our clan. Trust us."

But you couldn't have brought yourself to trust them, not after such a betrayal. You had known you had to find a way out of this marriage, but you just hadn't known how. You had looked up at your mother and nodded, pretending to accept your fate. While you had been internally determined to find a way to escape somehow, your mother had smiled at you proudly, and you would probably never forget her following words.

"You will learn to love him."

And now you stood here, in front of the Tsahìk of the Omatikaya — who was so different from the one in your clan — and were forced to undress and be inspected by her; for what purpose, you were not told, but you assumed that the degree of your flawlessness had to be determined and confirmed before you would be presented to the oh-so-great Olo'eyktan. The thought alone made your stomach churn.

"Grandmother, she clearly feels uncomfortable."

"Kiri, you know that it is not me who dictates the rules, for they are woven into the fabric of our existence itself," although her words were thoughtful and calm, her facial expression was anything but. Her gaze bore a sternness that bordered on intimidation, contradicting the tranquility of her voice. "Before the sacred union, both woman and man must embark upon this profound step."

"I don't want to," you said with a determined voice, "No one in our clan does that."

"Well, daughter of a great warrior, you are not in your clan anymore. Starting from today, you are Omatikaya, and you will learn to accept our ways if you want to or not."

A soft cough broke the silence outside the tent, followed by a deep voice asking, "May I enter?"

"Ah, I am too old and weak for such childish affairs," The elderly lady complained before muttering a prayer to herself, clearly at the end of her nerves, and it was more than evident that she was complaining about you and not the man who asked to enter the tent.

"Sure, you can come in," responded the girl standing by your side, who had been your companion throughout the day. Her name was Kiri, and amidst the chaos of the day, she appeared to be the most grounded and relatable person you had encountered; she was clearly the most normal person in this whole clan, that was for sure.

The Tsahìk waved her arms dramatically in the air before clutching her head, expressing dismay, "My days are numbered, and my strength is waning. I cannot keep up with this behavior."

A gruff laughter filled the air as the man stepped into the tent, placing the stack of white fabric on the table before he gently rested a reassuring hand on the elderly lady's shoulder. "Ma dear Tsahìk, you're lookin' healthy and mighty strong, and we're gonna keep you here with us for many cycles to come. No need to worry 'bout a thing, trust me."

"Be careful, jakesully, you begin talking like skypeople again," the woman said bitterly before her stern gaze fixated on you again, "Just where did you find this stubborn girl?"

Both the man and the elderly lady turned their attention towards you. The older woman's expression held a tinge of disgust, while the man offered an apologetic smile, as if trying to reassure you. Silence hung in the air, and without thinking, the words spilled from your lips, words that had plagued your thoughts since stepping foot on this new land that morning.

"Will I be introduced to the Olo'eyktan soon or…?"

The elder dismissed your question with a scoff, shooting a meaningful glance at the tall man beside her as if to say, Do you see what I mean? Instead of providing an answer, she posed a statement, her tone laced with accusation. "She reminds me of you. Is that why you chose her?"

The man shifted his gaze to you, offering an awkward smile before turning back to the Tsahìk. With confidence that appeared to stem from his own conviction, he declared, "She will learn our ways."

You will learn their way.

You will learn to adapt.

You will learn to love him.

The only thing you would eventually learn was to obey.

"Well, she has to learn a lot. That poor soul lacks understanding and respect for our ways and traditions. So far, I'm not convinced she's the right person to lead alongside the Olo'eyktan," the elder remarked, her words heavy with skepticism.

"Ma Jake? Are you here?" Before anyone could respond, a stunning woman entered the tent with grace and elegance, capturing the attention of all present.

"There is so much more to do, and so little time left," the Tsahìk remarked, brushing off the interruption.

The woman gently placed a hand on the elder's shoulder, mirroring the gesture of support shown by the man named jakesully earlier. Her presence exuded confidence and a calming aura, diffusing some of the tension in the room.

"Mother," she spoke in a soothing tone, her voice carrying a hint of authority. "Why are you stressing yourself out? It is a big day for your grandson, and you should take it easy."

Grandson. Your eyes widened almost imperceptibly. The family dynamics suddenly fell into place. It all made sense. You found yourself in a room surrounded by the closest members of your betrothed's family, yet there was no sign of him. His grandmother, his father, his mother, his sister were all present right in front of you.

The Tsahìk sighed and looked up at her daughter, concern etched on her face. "I know, Neytiri. But there is so much at stake, so much to be done," she replied, her voice laden with a sense of responsibility. "As the wisdom of time falls upon me and by the guide of Eywa, it is my duty to examine her physical form before the mating ceremony, and all she does is protest and complain."

Jakesully cleared his voice, "I mean, we cannot force her. If she doesn't—"

"She has to, ma Jake," Neytiri, the graceful woman who had entered, interrupted him with a serious gaze, "And she will." Then she shifted her gaze towards you, her eyes filled with compassion.

Leaning closer to her mother, she said, "You have guided our people for generations, mother. Today, let us handle the preparations while you focus on preserving your strength."

The Tsahìk seemed hesitant to relinquish control, but after a moment of contemplation, she nodded in agreement. "Very well, my daughter. I entrust this responsibility to you and Jakesully. May Eywa guide your actions."

Neytiri smiled warmly, her eyes flickering with gratitude. "Thank you, mother. We will do our best to honor our traditions."

With a sense of relief, the Tsahìk rose from her seat, her weariness momentarily lifted. She turned to you, her stern expression softening ever so slightly. "As for you, young one, understand that our customs are not merely rituals, but a connection to our ancestors and the land that sustains us. Embrace our ways, and you will find your place within our clan."

You met her gaze, a glimmer of kindness in hers as you didn't falter your firm expression whereupon your understanding of tradition began to shift, morphing into a newfound curiosity.

Jakesully stepped forward, his voice resonating with encouragement. "It may seem overwhelming at first, but with time, you will come to understand, trust me."

Neytiri joined his side, her presence radiating strength, "Neither you nor Neteyam are alone in this journey. We will walk beside you, supporting and guiding you every step of the way."

Neteyam. So that was his name. Exactly in that moment, it dawned on you that you had never bothered to ask about his name but so did no one bother to tell you before, as if it was something you should've already known.

"Where is he right now?" you just asked. If the topic of Neteyam had already been mentioned, you didn't want to waste the opportunity. The couple in front of you — his parents — exchanged a brief glance, before you got an answer.

"He is busy with the preparations, but we'll see after him now," Neytiri expressed with a gentle tone and smiled at you. "Kiri will stay here to assist you."

Once again, your question was avoided, and it was becoming increasingly strange. You chose to ignore how one by one, your future family left the tent, leaving you all alone. Kiri had assured you that she would hurry back as she needed to gather some materials. As far as you were concerned, she could take all the time in the world, as it wouldn't change anything about your situation anyway.

"Neteyam." You let the name roll off your tongue, practiced the pronunciation, and let your ears become accustomed to the sound of it. Neteyam. You chuckled to yourself, even though you refused to admit it openly, it was a remarkably beautiful name. At least you had to give him that, you would have a mate with a pretty name. And you could add that to the list of things you knew about him: His name was Neteyam and he was the Olo'eyktan.

You sighed, recalling the conversation with the young man from earlier today. Once you and your brother who took the role as your guardian for today had arrived, this guy had accompanied you through the village, like a personal assistant assigned to you. It seemed as if his main task had been to keep you away from the other villagers, as if you were a disease or plague. Something had seemed off. He hadn't answered many questions, deflecting them instead. And eventually, when the questions became too much for him, he had left you in the caring hands of Kiri and disappeared elsewhere. It had been an interesting encounter with him, for just like Kiri, he possessed an extra finger and hair that gracefully cascaded over his eyes. In retrospect, it dawned upon you that he must surely be a part of the family, and you assumed that Neteyam would likely bear a similar resemblance. Such differences held little concern for you, as they were merely superficial nuances. Before your departure, your friends from your clan had instilled fear within you, weaving tales of demon blood and disfigurement. Yet, you chose to disregard their words, wanting to see for yourself.

Still, the fact that you had not laid eyes upon him and the pervasive silence surrounding his name within the village stirred a faint sense of unease within your core. Could he truly be an outwardly fearsome beast, compelling others to shun him from their thoughts? Or perhaps, he was a cruel leader, commanding such reverence that people dared not utter his name. A sigh escaped your lips, knowing that this enigmatic figure would soon become your better half, your partner in life's journey, and he would be the one to father your offspring. The question lingered, like a whisper in the wind: Could cruelty be inherited, passed down through bloodlines?

At least now you knew your future mate's name.

"…te Suli Neteyam'itan."

"Or y/n'ite," you flinched involuntarily as you heard Kiri's voice when she reentered the tent, and instantly a slight blush crept onto your cheeks, "You know what, kind of eww because he's my brother but it's good that you already think about your children's names," Kiri said smiling smugly.

"I was not—"

"No, I mean it, repeat that in front of my grandmother and she will be head over heels for you." You highly doubted that.

You spent the next hour doing what Kiri instructed, and it wasn't nearly as daunting as you had imagined. The physical examination wasn't a thorough scrutiny of your body. Instead, you were coated in a gentle, liquid healing clay, and it wasn't uncomfortable to have a stranger touch you. Kiri was remarkably professional, but she asked you not to pose distracting questions while she worked. Later, the clay was washed away with water infused with blessings and flower petals, which filled the air with a delightful scent. Once everything was finished, you felt refreshed and rejuvenated, as if reborn. Only then did other people approach you to dress you in exquisite fabrics, feathers, and precious jewelry, and gemstones. The women all appeared kind, but none of them seemed eager to engage in conversation with you. You sat quietly on the mat, your legs folded underneath you, gazing at the wall ahead, as multiple hands adorned you.

As the preparations came to an end, you had still an abundance of questions left, a multitude of them swirling in your mind, and you voiced each and every one of them, undeterred by the avoidance of an answer.

Is he handsome?

Is he kind?

Is he warm?

Cultured?

Artistic?

Athletic?

Strategic?

You persisted in asking, refusing to give up, until you received a satisfactory answer.

"Is he dull? Not very smart? Mentally slow? I can work on those."

However, every response you received was completely off-topic, such as "We can discuss the order of the mating ceremony" or "Our Tsahìk sent over blessings for you to recite during the ceremony..." It was beyond frustrating.

"Is he, like, ugly or something? Maybe he has some kind of physical deformity, but you know, true beauty comes from within anyway and such. Well, not literally from within, but I believe in being a good person and I could deal with it."

At this point, it felt like you were having a one-sided conversation, with question after question piling up like a mountain, and not a single one of them was ever answered sensibly. Instead, you were met with empty platitudes intended to appease you, but it was all in vain: You are going to be an amazing mate, an amazing mother, and an amazing eykte.

Just as you were about to give up, you turned to the young girl who helped you put on some golden beads on your hair, the one that Kiri had referred to as her sister. The youngest Sully child had also joined your company at some point, a truly adorable and vibrant teenage girl whom you had quickly grown fond of. "Can I ask you about your brother?" you feared that the topic was about to be avoided again.

But contrary to your expectation, the younger girl beamed a smile at you and nodded her head in agreement, "Sure, ask away, what do you want to know?"

"What is he like?" You asked your voice filled with curiosity, anticipating her answer and paying attention to her body language.

"I mostly like him, more than Lo'ak at least," the younger girl began venting in a nonchalant tone, "but today I'm so angry at him, he really—"

"Tuktirey!" The stern voice of her mother, Neytiri, suddenly interrupted, causing the girl to look up instantly. The girl fell silent, her eyes wide with attention. "Come help me, please," Neytiri said with a nod towards the forest, before she swiftly exited.

Turning her gaze back to you, a sweet smile still graced her lips. "Don't worry, he's actually the very best," she whispered.

"Tuk!" Neytiri called again, prompting Tuk to rise from her spot.

"I'm sorry, I can't say anything," she hurriedly apologized before rushing towards the tent's exit.

"Tuk, please," you said, reaching out to hold her hand, trying to prevent her from leaving. "Tell me... is he cruel? Is he dumb? I can work with dumb, you know, I just need to know."

Tuk was about to respond when her eyes suddenly widened imperceptibly. You followed her gaze over your shoulder and saw the young man from earlier standing there.

Tuk smiled at you and said, "Did anyone ever tell you how pretty you are? You're going to have wonderful children, I know it." And just like that, she left. Whatever she was about to say, first her mother and now this man had stopped her.

"What is your problem?" you asked, irritation seeping into your voice as you stood up from your place. "We were having a conversation, why did you stop her from talking?"

"I would never do that to my own sister," he replied seriously.

So Kiri, Tuk, and this guy, probably Lo'ak, were all Neteyam's siblings.

"Why are you here?" you inquired, your bad mood getting the better of you.

"I'm here to assist," he answered nonchalantly.

"Okay, then you tell me," you demanded, your voice filled with anticipation. "Tell me about the Olo'eyktan."

A thoughtful pause lingered in the air before the guy responded, his gaze holding a promise of an imminent encounter. "You will meet him soon," he assured you, sensing your yearning for immediate understanding.

"I want to know now," you pressed, a hint of urgency coloring your words.

He let out a weary sigh, acknowledging your eagerness. "He is our clan leader — the clan of the blue flute," he began.

"Yes," you affirmed the initial fragments of knowledge that you already knew.

"He has held the esteemed position of the successor of the former Olo'eyktan since his childhood, as he is the firstborn child," he continued, acting as if it were the most revealing information.

"Yes," you echoed, impatience in your voice.

"And for two cycles of harvest time, he has guided us Omatikaya as our chief," he concluded, underscoring the same repeated information, now for the third time.

"Yes," you mused, the repetition of information giving rise to a discerning observation, one that definitely confirmed your gut feeling. "Okay, so you've told me he is the clan leader, he is Olo'eyktan, the chief of the Omatikaya, the firstborn, and the successor since birth... these are all the same things."

"Yes," he acknowledged, his face looking serious and his voice carrying a hint of nervousness, "but they are all facts."

You stifled an annoyed sigh as everything felt so strange here from the moment you arrived until now. It was baffling that nobody, and absolutely nobody at all, was talking about him. It almost seemed like a conspiracy, leaving you perplexed.

You realized your parents were wrong from the very beginning, and that's when you decided to put an end to it. You refused to stay any longer in this clan, let alone mate with him.

"Excuse me for a moment," You muttered as you tried to pass by Lo'ak, but he positioned himself at the exit in a way that blocked any way out.

"I'm really sorry, but you'll have to stay here until the ceremony," he explained, wearing an awkward smile on his face.

"Sure, but I really need a moment of privacy."

"Yeah, of course, I won't bother you in the tent."

"No, you don't understand," you made one final attempt, but no matter how obvious it seemed, Lo'ak couldn't grasp the situation. He stared at you with a perplexed look as you let out a sigh and concluded your statement, "Nature is calling."

"Oh," his eyes grew wide within a second, "Oh, uh," he stammered, "Yes, um, sure, you can– you can just go over, uh, there," he cleared his throat several times and pointed in two different directions with his hands, a light blush visible on his cheeks, "D-do you know the way? You do, don't you? Should I…?"

"I'll manage, thanks," you gave him a fake smile as you walked past him and headed straight into the forest. Once you were certain that no one was following you, you began to run. Every second counted now, and you had already devised an escape plan. You didn't care about your family or your clan, or the shame it would bring upon them for they had abandoned you anyway. Without a second thought, they had turned their backs on you and your future, so you were ready to do the same. You would rather be alone for the rest of your life than mate with that demon no one dared to talk about.

The soft melody of baby ikrans chirping above you, their cheerful tunes harmonizing with the gentle breeze that rustled the leaves of nearby trees, calmed your nerves a bit. Amidst the serene ambiance, you had fought your way from the woods after running quite a distance from the village, now standing in front of high rocks, your expression reflecting a sense of bewilderment and uncertainty, you looked for a way to climb them up.

Lost in your thoughts, and trying different ways, you remained oblivious to the presence behind you, until a man cleared his throat and approached you.

"Um, are you in need of assistance of some kind?" he asked, his voice gentle and filled with genuine concern.

You startled, letting go of the vines on the rocks for a moment and a flicker of suspicion crossed your eyes as you turned to the person. "Uh, I am quite fine, thank you," you responded annoyedly, your thoughts silently questioning the identity of this stranger. Where did he even come from and why did he bother you? He probably knew who you were given your extravagant looks, but who was he? "You can go back and wait with all the other gawkers for the ceremony."

The man's lips curved into a soft smile when he took a step closer to you, his hands resting calmly behind his back. "I...will. But first, I'm curious, what are you doing?" he inquired, his tone curious and laced with intrigue.

A hint of defiance lingered in your voice as you replied, "Nothing." You struggled to maintain your composure, your words betraying your actions.

"You're doing something," he persisted.

Frustrated, you sighed, "I am not."

With the sound of ikrans shouting above you, a moment of pause settled between you. In that fleeting silence, you decided to reveal your purpose, hoping he'd then mind his business and go away. "If you must know, I'm trying to find out the best way to climb over these rocks."

"Climb... whatever for?" he questioned, genuinely intrigued by your confession.

"Because I think he may be a beast. Or a demon," you revealed muttering to yourself, sarcasm in your voice but also hinting at a hidden fear.

Perplexed, the man who had definitely heard you inquired further, "Who are we talking about?"

"Oh, well, that was actually mean of me," you mumbled to yourself, reminding yourself that the man in front of you was probably loyal to his Olo'eyktan and wouldn't like you talking bad about him. That thought made you find some amusement in your own thoughts before speaking louder, "None of your business."

He gazed at you expectantly, awaiting an honest answer. The stranger didn't seem like someone who would immediately betray your secret — later perhaps — but he could be of use to you right now, maybe he could even confirm or refute your theory.

"The Olo'eyktan," you finally added, your voice softer, "No one will speak of him. No one. He is clearly a beast or a demon."

Realization dawned upon him as he nodded, absorbing your words. "Understood."

You turned your back to him, focusing on the rocks again, and suddenly you had a plan, "You know, if I grab there... yes!" you looked back to him over your shoulder, "You could assist me by lifting me up."

Confusion crept into his expression as he hesitated, contemplating your request. "Uh, one question. You do not like beasts or demons? What he looks like matters?"

You rolled your eyes, "I don't care what he looks like. What I don't like is not knowing. Now, here. Just take a hold here," you instructed, pointing to your waist. "With a lift, I... I believe I can make it over the rocks and to my ikran."

He considered your words, pondering the consequences. "People will notice you are missing, will they not?" he queried, concerned for the potential repercussions.

"I will worry about that later. Now, if you please..." you turned your back to him, still determined to proceed. "I just need a little help. Come. Hurry up."

The man licked his lips, caught in his own contemplation, before taking two slow steps forward. "I have absolutely no intention of helping you," he declared, surprising you with his refusal.

You stopped in your tracks, slowly turning to face him as if you had misheard, giving him the time to correct himself. Your eyes widened in surprise and a bit of anger, too. With sure steps, you approached him, closing the distance between you.

"I'm a woman in need of help. And you refuse?" you confronted him, your voice tinged with disbelief.

The man tilted his head to the side, his expression contemplative. After a moment of thoughtful silence, he responded, his voice carrying a touch of playfulness.

"I refuse when that woman in need of help is trying to go over the rocks so that she does not have to be my mate," he stated, his words hanging in the air, revealing a truth that caught you off guard.

Shock rippled through you, and you gasped softly, feeling as though the air had been caught in your throat. Your eyes locked onto his golden gaze, desperately hoping that you had misinterpreted what he said. But deep down, you knew the truth had found its way to you, settling heavily in your core. It couldn't be... you had seen his siblings, and they didn't possess the distinctive features of the clan. Yet, here he stood, a true Na'vi through and through, without any doubts. He was remarkably handsome, almost too handsome. Yes, you had noticed his striking appearance the moment you laid eyes on him, but then it didn't matter much since he was just a random person, but now, with this revelation, they held significant weight in your thoughts.

He wore a smirk on his lips, a glimmer of mischief dancing in his gaze. He knew.

"Hello, y/n," he approached you, his smile radiant and unmarred by the revelation. As he stopped directly in front of you, he lifted his hand to his forehead, greeting you with a formal gesture. "I'm Neteyam."

The realization dawned on you, and suddenly, the words you had wanted to speak failed to find their way out. Your tongue forgot its purpose as you just stood there, caught between astonishment and uncertainty.

An apology, you thought, your mind searching for the right words to offer at least that.

"I am deeply s..." —orry. Your voice faltered, carried away by the cool wind that brushed past you. The weight of the truth settled upon you, realizing that he was the successor of the former Olo'eyktan, the firstborn of Toruk Makto, your mate-to-be.

"Ma Olo'eyktan," you stammered, attempting to bow in respect, but he intercepted your gesture. His hands gently caught yours, intertwining your fingers in the process, and he lowered your hand in a graceful motion, bringing your hands together. His hand on yours became the focal point of your gaze, while you could hear your heart pounding in your ears.

"Not your Olo'eyktan," he corrected you in a soft-spoken manner, withdrawing his hand. "Neteyam."

You tried to read his face, searching for answers in the depths of his eyes.

"I mean, yes, your Olo'eyktan, but to you, just Neteyam," he clarified jokingly, the sound of his beautiful laugh after made you speechless.

"I am…" you began, but the sentence remained unfinished, your shame preventing you from pronouncing the word 'sorry'. "Please accept my apology. If I had known that you were you—"

He interrupted you, his gaze unwavering. "You would have what? Not told me that you were trying to escape?"

"Well, yes. I mean…" Your words stumbled over each other, attempting to form a coherent defense.

He chuckled, a sound that filled the air around you with warmth.

"I do apologize, ma Olo'eyktan," you said lowering your gaze, your voice a soft admittance.

"Neteyam," he corrected you once again, a gentle reminder. "Just Neteyam."

You nodded, your eyes looking up and meeting his again, the weight of the moment hanging between you. And then, he leaned closer, too close for your liking, and you held your breath when he whispered into your ear.

"The title situation. It towers over us. An accident of birth on my part," a shiver ran down your spine as his warm breath met your skin, "But I thought, maybe, perhaps as my mate, you could ignore it, and I could be just Neteyam to you."

You gazed at him, your heart fluttering with newfound affection. The weight of his words sank in, and you found yourself captivated by the vulnerability he revealed.

"That was, of course, before I found out that you don't want to be my mate," he confessed as he straightened up, and you couldn't ignore the hint of disappointment in his deep voice.

"I didn't say that," you quickly defended yourself, your voice laced with sincerity.

"Oh, you did," he emphasized, now a playful glimmer in his eyes.

"I did not," you insisted, your tone slightly nervous.

"You did," he persisted, his smile widening.

"It is not... mhm. I don't know you," you admitted, your voice growing softer as you laid bare your doubts and reservations.

He stretched his arms out in a dramatic gesture. "I don't know you either," he admitted, his smile ever so wide, "Except that you are terrible at climbing."

You became defensive, a playful spark igniting within you. "You try climbing a wall in all of these," you retorted, gesturing towards your elaborate clothing and jewelry. As you looked up to meet his gaze once more, you found him already watching you, a broad smile adorning his face and a dreamy glint in his eyes. It was a contagious expression that tugged at your lips, and you couldn't help but smile in response.

"What?" you asked softly, your curiosity piqued.

He opened his mouth, then closed it again, contemplating his words. Finally, he spoke, his voice filled with a sincere and gentle admiration. "You are incomparable."

Your heart skipped a beat at his words, a blush rising to your cheeks. You remained silent, allowing the warmth of his compliment to wash over you.

He continued, his gaze shifting to the left as he spoke, his words a tender confession. "No one told me you'd be this beautiful. You may be too beautiful to be my mate. People will talk... given I'm a demon."

"Ma Olo'eyktan—" you started, wanting to apologize again, your voice trailing off as he corrected you once more with a playful glint in his eyes.

"Neteyam."

You chuckled softly, your heart opening up to the gentle familiarity of his name, "Neteyam," you said softly, giving in to the connection forming between you. The sound of his name on your tongue felt even more different now that he was standing in front of you, almost comforting in its own way.

The sun began to set behind him, casting a warm glow over the lush landscape of Pandora, and a golden hue around both of your bodies. The air was filled with anticipation, and you could feel the weight of the moment.

"What do you want to know?" he asked all of a sudden.

"What?" you snapped out of your thoughts, momentarily caught off guard.

"You don't know me. What do you want to know about me?" he repeated, his gaze fixed on you.

You didn't expect this question at all. "That is quite, uh…"

"Mm-hmm," he playfully encouraged you to continue, his head tilted to the side.

"Uh…"

He gave you his full attention making you nervous, a smile playing on his lips, his canines peeking out with a small smirk.

You realized that he seemed to enjoy the situation you were in. Gathering your thoughts, you mustered the courage to speak.

"I suppose... everything," you said, your voice gaining confidence. "I want to know everything about you."

He was briefly surprised, the smile disappearing for a second. "All right," he said, clicking his tongue.

"Uh, everything?" he asked to confirm, and you nodded confidently. "I was born prematurely, and everyone thought I was going to die, but I did not. I am a fair shooter, and an even better archer. My favorite food is srakat vey. I will not eat fungus soup, it is horrible. I like flying and hunting and good conversation. Most of all, I like science."

"Science?" you asked, genuine curiosity in your voice.

"Yes, the study of the physical world, especially astronomy. The stars in the heavens," he explained, a spark of enthusiasm igniting within him as he continued. "I'm quite the artisan. Probably would be an artisan if I were not already occupied."

Pointing to his scar above his chest, he added, "I have a scar here from falling off my ikran."

"Really?" you asked, surprised at the revelation. He didn't seem to be the type to have experienced such a simple accident.

"Either that or skypeople were the cause, it's long ago," he replied hinting at the mystery, and by the way he said that you were sure that skypeople were the cause of his scar, and he knew that you came to the conclusion as well, almost wanting you to see through him.

He then pointed at his hand. "A scar here from just being incredibly clumsy with a hunting knife as we were kids." As your eyes focused on his perfect hands, he met your gaze again, and the silent connection deepened.

"And I'm very nervous," he chuckled, "about mating with a girl I'm only just meeting minutes before our ceremony."

You were left speechless, absorbing the honesty and vulnerability he shared. Nodding understandingly, you appreciated his nobility. "But I cannot show it and climb over rocks and fly away with my ikran because I am Olo'eyktan of the Omatikaya, and that would cause a scandal. But I promise you, I am neither a demon nor a beast," he reassured, his eyes ever so dreamily locked with yours. "Just Neteyam."

Long, intense eye contact held between you, the unspoken emotions weaving a tapestry of unexplored possibilities. Before you could process the moment, your brother appeared out of nowhere, breaking the trance,

"Sister, we have been looking everywhere for you. What are you—" he stopped in his tracks, his eyes widening in awe as he recognized Neteyam. "Ma... ma Olo'eyktan," he greeted respectfully, bowing even.

Neteyam approached your brother and greeted him back. "You must be the man responsible for my possible future happiness."

"Sure. Um, my apologies. Yes. No—" your brother stumbled, caught off guard by the unexpected encounter.

"Well, you have arrived at the most opportune moment. She was just deciding..." his words trailed off as his eyes met yours, a mischievous smile dancing on his lips, "whether or not she wanted to be my mate."

A rush of heat flushed your cheeks, feeling exposed and vulnerable under the scrutiny of both Neteyam and your brother. You watched as the realization sank in, causing your brother's expression to shift from surprise to concern.

"Oh, she is overjoyed to become—" your brother tried to speak, but Neteyam interjected, his voice calm and measured.

"No, she's still deciding. She might go over the rocks instead. Either way, the choice is entirely up to her." The corners of Neteyam's lips curled into a gentle smile, his words reassuring and respectful.

Your heart swelled with awe. The weight of the decision had suddenly become lighter, knowing that Neteyam understood the importance of autonomy, and that he was willing to accept any outcome as long as you were the one making that decision on your own.

Your brother forced a smile, his eyes reflecting a complex blend of emotions. Perhaps he recognized the sincerity in Neteyam's words, or maybe he understood the significance of your journey toward happiness, whatever it was, he kept quiet.

Neteyam broke the silence, his voice filled with a determination worthy of a leader, and a pinch of amusement, "Now, I should get back because I suspect that by now there are some very anxious warriors who think I am kidnapped."

He stepped closer, taking your hand in his, his delicate touch sending a jolt of electricity through your body. Excitement emanated from him as he leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to the back of your hand.

He said your name with so much passion, you were almost hypnotized by him, his breath warm against your skin. "I hope I see you there." He lingered for a moment, his eyes locked with yours, a silent promise of a future yet to unfold.

With a nod and a soft smile, he released your hand and turned to leave, but then he paused and turned back, "And if so, I am the one standing between Tsahìk and Toruk Makto."

You smiled. He smiled.

His eyes met yours for the last time, and in that gaze, you found a reflection of your own desires and hopes. And then he started fading into the distance. The weight of his departure settled upon you, you were left standing there, your hand still tingling from the touch of his lips. The intensity of his presence lingered in the air, and you found yourself lost in a whirlwind of emotions and thoughts.

Your brother rushed to your side, concern etched on his face. "Don't tell me you are still hesitating," he said, his voice filled with worry and impatience.

With the setting sun as a witness, you just looked at him, a newfound sense of clarity shining in your eyes.

Well, maybe this wasn't that bad after all.

note: yes, this was inspired by that scene from "queen charlotte", and if you can't get enough of neteyam and enjoy the arranged marriage trope, I highly recommend checking out the chosen by eywa series by @randxmthxughts and the monster in me series by @andraga12, their writing is exceptional, and the way they craft beautiful narratives from chapter to chapter is truly magical, definitely don’t miss out on them!! <33

and as always let me know if you like my own attempt at this trope by liking, reblogging and/or commenting 💕

5K notes · View notes

pascals-doll · 2 months

Text

GATÚBELA

ellie williams x reader

『••✎••』 in which you go to a party to forget about your cheating ex, who would’ve thought you’d find yourself falling in love at some reggaeton function. | WC: 9.3K

🫧 THIS IS A SERIES | FOR ALL PARTS GO HERE

🫧 SERIES MASTERLIST | CH.2 HERE

🫧 with all the talk in the fandom of inclusivity and needing a plot, my ass was busy whippin up exactly that! 💋 i hope you babies enjoy genuinely since this is my first series!

🫧 karol g and baby miko is 2846% of my playlist tbh

🫧 description: MODERN AU! FUNCTION BEHAVIOR, SUGGESTIVE CONTENT ONLY! latina!reader, detailed description of reader having tan/tawny brown skin!, bff!dina, mentions of drinking and smoking, mentions of toxic relationship, mentions of reader being cheated on, READER IS NOT IDENTIFIED WITH HER SEXUALITY (SHE HIGHKEY KNOW SHE GAY THO SHE NOT DUMB), mentions twerking/yiking (lol when i said function behavior i meant it)!, cocky masculine!ellie, mention of y/n once (___), use of nick name (mama), kissing!

CHAPTER ONE

“fuck him girl, what you need is a good drink and a good dance”

your dearest bestfriend Dina says, passing you the ‘Dutch’ you rolled.

the ‘him’ in question was your now ex-boyfriend. you had walked into his home 2 nights ago.

at first, you found him on his bed, he already seemed startled to begin with which was a dead-giveaway already then the girl walking out of his restroom in your towel was enough to have you walking through that front door.

you couldn’t lie and say getting cheated on didn’t hurt. it just didn’t hurt in the way you thought it would. if anything, you had felt an undertone of overwhelming relief even with that pang of pain.

“so are we outside? or are we outside?” your bestfriend asks, actually giving you no option as she is already looking through your closet.

“how could i ever tell you no” you spoke out through the exhalation of your smoke before handing her the blunt.

“girl, we are walking farther than our waiting spot!” your half-way tipsy-self giggles out, grabbing Dina as you both lean on the staircase outside of Dina’s apartment building.

the sounds of heels clacking on the concrete through the shared tipsy giggles you both shared as the both of you begin to feel the shots of Don Julio and Fireball Dina offered as a pregame.

“uber comes in 6” Dina says, before putting her phone away inside her big black fur coat that temporarily covered her matching black two-peice.

it was a corset top that hugged her breasts perfectly with the matching flared leggings that had cut-outs on her thick hips, finishing it off with white heels.

“enough time for a smoke” you smirk out which Dina returned before beginning to dig in your mini white purse.

you were wearing a skin-tight halter white dress sparkled with light gold gems that brought out the natural bronze of your skin, hugging all your curves perfectly, exposing your tattoos that sprinkled around your arms, and your thick gold hoops that had ‘CHULA’ written through.

once you had what was left of the blunt from earlier in between your lips, you began to pull out your light from in your long dark-brown leather coat that was complimeted by your dark brown heeled-boots.

༺ ♱ ༻ ༺ ♱ ༻ ༺ ♱ ༻ ༺ ♱ ༻

flashing lights of green, red, and blue fading into each other through each flash as you both make your way through the house-party; music from the loud speakers ringing through the both of your ears.

the body heat from all the dancing sweaty bodies engulfing the blaring atmosphere as you pushed through different to people to find your way to the drink station.

“what can i get you ladies, tonight” the server says, mixer in his hand as he was mid-way of making this woman’s mojito.

Dina, of course using all her little flirtatious tricks to rouse free drinks out of him.

you both walk away with accomplished smiles, your pure lime Daiquiri in hand and cherry Mojito in Dina’s.

Dina was also able to convince the server to take care both of your coats, everything that was in your coats now being in your purse’s. he hung your jackets on these hooks right next to where the kitchen begins and home-bar ends.

“may we get swept off our feet by a hot duo!” Dina cheers out, putting her glass in the air.

“amen sista’!” you clink your glasses together before walking off into the sweaty-crowded dance floor.

♫₊˚.🎧 now playing: gatúbela

↻ ◁ || ▷ ↺

the loud speaker boomed the slight beats, immediately feeling each of the beats go through your body as you feel yourself get hyped to one of your favorite songs begin to play; knowing the drop is gonna come.

it felt like it was destined as you hit the dance floor. immediately grabbing Dina’s hand where she knew exactly what her dance-crazed friend was gonna do with the little liquor in her system; aka you.

you felt the need to make it to the middle of the dance floor before song actually began.

you heard the lyrics engulfing your ear, the drank being the only thing to influence you and your body right now.

Dina automatically taking your free hand, putting it up in the air as your bodies began to whine together to the beat.

both your hips matching each beat smoothly as y’all began to pull people’s attention from around the room.

“estaba loca por casarte, haćertelo rico yo! ojalá puedà quedarte” you and dina began to sing, your bodies beginning to gyrate swiftly towards each other; completely lost in the atmosphere, liquor, and music.

the upbeat rhythm of the reggaeton beat boomed only making your sexy rhythm on Dina faster.

༺ ♱ ༻ ༺ ♱ ༻ ༺ ♱ ༻ ༺ ♱ ༻

Ellie wasn’t much for the party scene, she liked the occasional harmless flirting and eye candy to be as a entertainment for her as she smoked her way through the party, only taking a couple shots with Jesse.

Jesse had a friend, Gustavo. he was going to be dj-ing at some house party tonight and when it came down to Jesse, no was not an option to Ellie.

anyways, thats how Ellie ended up in the humid party, standing where she was now; watching all surf-wave of crowded bodies getting down.

she stood there, joint in her hand as her cropped white muscle-tee hugged her chest and exposed her toned abdomen.

she had on jeans, bagging them so her nike pro boxer-lining to peek out.

there was lots of beautiful women at this party, but she was almost falling asleep as Jesse was already flirting with a second girl.

just as she brought the joint to her lips, there you were.

ellie could only spot your silhouette at first.

your shadow was revealed shortly, glowing under the bright dance-floor lighting.

it seemed like Ellie wasn’t the only one you were able to captivate, almost enchanting the whole room.

it was now, you and Dina who were killing it on that dance floor.

random strangers hyping the both of you as some even attempt to get closer to try to dance with the both of you.

it was everything about you that captured her completely. the way your hair moved along with your golden earrings shining with every movement of your body and your tawny skin glistening.

she observed the way you danced and to be frank the way your dress hugged those beautiful curves of yours.

Ellie was salivating at the mouth, you were like a flash-photo moment that would be forever engraved into her membrane.

Jesse had came back with two shots of tequila, she immediately grabbed her shot. not wasting time, ellie needed to get to that dance floor before the end of this fucking song.

“white dress and black dress. spotlight. white dress is mine.” ellie points out quickly, downing the shot and handing the joint to Jesse.

ellie practically flew down those stairs.

༺ ♱ ༻ ༺ ♱ ༻ ༺ ♱ ༻ ༺ ♱ ༻

you continued to gyrate your hips sensually.

Dinas hand’s running up’n’down your body as you did the same, both feeling hot under the spell of the music.

you took a couple steps back as your perreo got more confident, slight cheers from women and men ogling the both of you as they try to get closer.

Esto e' una foto porque yo no 'toy pintá

Ya 'toy elevada, me siento gatúbela

Y ese huerfanito necesita una mamá

🫧

you accidentally felt your ass bump up against someone.

“im so sorry!” you yelled over the music, you felt relief once you seen it was a woman, frankly dreading it to be a male.

she was gorgeous in such a different way; she wasn’t a feminine woman and she looked better than any actual man youve ever seen or been with, especially dressed the way she was.

“go head’ mama” was all the fine woman said, signaling that she wanted you to dance; no. throw it on her.

she grabbed the hand that had been on her shoulder as a small friendly gesture to quickly hold it to spin you around.

you were picky if you danced with someone, but boy, you were about to give this girl a show.

🫧

Ay, qué rico!

Cuando me pone el panty de ladito

¡Ay, qué rico!

Ese besito dámelo abajito

each lyric of each beat of that verse was grind and a twerk from your ass on her crotch as her hips rocked into you; it was definitely the alcohol that made ellie this bold.

she followed your rhythm and one hand set on your waist softly as you balanced yourself with your hands on your knees.

she took the free hand that she used to run through her hair, contemplating how she can handle all that, to bring it down to hold your dress down from riding up.

Ay, bendito!

En cuatro yo te pongo rapidito

Mmm, bendito

No me coma' tan rico, papacito

🫧

‘thank god for Jesse and that tequila shot’

the little voice in ellies head thought before quickly vanishing, the only thing on ellie was how fucking horny you made her because of how unbelievably sexy you were.

the small gesture just made you feel secure, only making you pushed your ass into her completely at this point.

the slight tipped over stance you had was now turned into fully bent over as she was practically dry-fucking your shaking ass in-front of the crowd.

Ellie looked around the crowded room, men looked at with her with envy as some women looked at you with hatred which only fueled her ego completely.

she bit her lip as she felt the cockiest smirk smear across her face as she lifted her leg and began to grinding into your ass in complete dog-like motion.

the little bit of friction between the small of your panty brushing across the hard of her zipper which only made your stomach bubble wantingly.

the room might’ve been filled with people and blaring lights but Ellie swore you were the only person in this entire place.

everyone who surrounding the both of you completely fading into a black abyss. it was only the two of you.

the only thing in the moment right now that mattered was this sun-kissed beauty she was dancing with.

there was no way in hell this was the weed or the alcohol.

she wished she could stay here for the rest of her life, not even the fact that you were dancing on her; but the fact it was just you.

your grinds got slower and slower which seemed to bring ellie back down to earth.

the song was ending but this couldn’t.

you thought you would have to pull yourself off and watch as she walked away from you after getting what she wanted, what you thought she wanted.

the auburn hair woman offered you her hand to walk you away from the crowd after you bent yourself back up.

her demeanor felt as sharp as a knife yet her eyes gleamed so gently at you.

ellie’s heart was pounding, her heartbeat drowning out her own sound of the music.

“my-my name’s Ellie!” the woman leaned in slightly so you could hear her over her own heartbeat mixed with the booming music.

you could see her hazel eyes were hooded although they still managed to shine through, mostly cause of the mixture of weed and alcohol.

you had gone nervous under her gaze, the unfamiliar feeling making you a bit uncomfortable but yet she made you comfortable.

you let a nervous smile creep onto your face “nice to meet you Ellie!, my name is ___”

you hated how you had to shout over the music then getting pushed slightly getting pushed by different people as they surround another couple.

you whipped your head, stepping your feet closer to the circle to be nosy and see who it was.

‘shit! where’s Dina?’ you thought.

Ellie noticed how your attention got pulled away to the new crowd of people, sharing your focus. the dance light once again blares down onto the dancing couple.

“Dina!?”

“Oh my god! Jesse!”

the both of you looked at each other.

Ellie found this slightly funny as she couldn’t believe Jesse did the exact same thing.

you share the laugh she had slightly let out before hyping up your bestfriend as she really got into it.

“im guessing you two are bestfriends?” you lean into her ear to question.

Ellie felt your hot breath graze her ear which caused the invisible blimps of her skin to chill-up.

“yeah, i would ask you the same but i already know.” Ellie slys out, looking down at you with a growing want that glints through her pupils.

“excuse me?” you joked out, you were caught slightly off-gaurd.

“you smoke?!” Ellie practically had to shout over the cheering of Dina and Jesse’s very own yiking session.

you gave her a nod which ellie returned with a lick of her lips and signal to the door from her head.

༺ ♱ ༻ ༺ ♱ ༻ ༺ ♱ ༻ ༺ ♱ ༻

there was a lot of people outside that actually had the same idea as you two.

you looked around, stumbling slightly on your feet as you weren’t your most sober.

“could i help you? im guessing you’re a bit drunk” Ellie hands go out to catch you incase you were to loose your balance.

“aren’t you so sweet to the girl who just twerked on you. im s’sorry by the-” you slurr out the slightest bit.

ellie shook her head with a smirk of disbelief written all over her face, turning one arm to you slightly to intertwine with.

you gladly accepted her arm “what?” you question as she began to walk you always from the house party. although you were intoxicated you were never so smitten with someone like this.

“nothing to be sorry about here” ellie said, looking up at you as she pulled out a small black cylinder tube from her pocket.

the way her eyes looked at you as the streelights reflected them made your heart race like a pre-teen with their first crush.

you watched through your own droopy eyes her take the joint from the tube in between her lips “you gotta lighter?” she snaps you out of your daze, you had been staring longer than you thought.

“uh-yes! i actually have a whole other blunt in here?” you reply, questioning yourself at the end as you dig in your purse.

it ignited a laugh from Ellie which for some reason echoed through your ears straight to your heart “here ya’go” you hand her your lighter.

she knew you were different, there was no other woman like you. Ellie couldn’t compare even if she tried.

this drove her even more crazy, remembering how women wished they were you in a matter of seconds.

she frankly found it attractive how you handed her a gold-plated lighter, it was fancy too; being one you had to refill.

you could’ve handed her a regular BIC lighter but you didn’t just cause you didn’t have one. you weren’t simple, she knew that off the bat and it yearned for ellie to know more.

“i really like your lighter….’our lady’ ” Ellie compliments, reading the engraved lettering.

she ran her thumb ran over the small painted Virgencita.

she felt her heart swoon even more. she could feel her mind race along with her heart; dying with anticipation.

the anticipation to completely dive herself into your life, create her own little space right next to you, your life. she already wanted to take you home with her and have breakfast in bed.

she wanted to get with you right now and just call you yours.

your energy invisibly mixing with hers creating an unconscious spiritual tug on each other’s hearts.

“thank you—aye!, gotta be protected even as you smoke.” you pointed at her, looking at her playfully serious.

“is that so? i think you’re gonna need to tell me more.” ellie puffed out with a smirk, handing you the joint.

she could feel you grow nervous under your hazy-self which only made her persuasion flourish.

you felt the piney-terpenes fog your brain quicker and create an inner warmth for the skeleton of your body as you inhale the rough smoke with ease.

you grew hot under her gaze not knowing if it was your body flushing or the mix of drugs for the the night.

“so tell me, did you plot on me?” you bluntly ask, passing the joint.

the weed diminishing whatever of was left of your cautious- veil; feeling yourself fall vulnerable with the stranger.

“i wouldn’t necessarily say plot. i had seen a beautiful woman and i just needed to dance with her.”

ellie’s voice echoed through your ears causing goosebumps on your skin. you were acting like you had never been flirted with before and it was embarrassing.

you straighten yourself up, digging in your purse to get your phone. you weren’t trying to disregard her compliment but you also came to your senses.

but to ellie, it sure felt like you did.

you unlocked your phone.

12:05 AM

it was just past midnight and as nice as this was….

you shook your head trying to recollect in your mind what to say “uhm-im sorry—you’re really nice—err, we should check on our friends.” you stammered across your words, biting your lip as you felt bad.

Ellie agreed as her mind began to race.

are you not gay?

had she been delusional?

did she read this all the wrong way?

she felt like an idiot as she handed you the joint. she felt your hand shiver as your fingertip grazed her knuckles.

you both began to walk off into the party, leaving the both tension-filled.

the both of you pushed through, ellie staying hot on your heels to not loose you within the surf of people.

༺ ♱ ༻ ༺ ♱ ༻ ༺ ♱ ༻ ༺ ♱ ༻

it didn’t take you long to find your brunette bestfriend with her large fur coat back on as she seemed enthralled with Jesse at the bar, sat on the stool with her on his lap.

you both approached them and they soon look your direction with big drunk smiles “Ellie! ma’girl of the night!” Jesse drunkily exclaims, taking his hand out in dap-up motion.

ellie didn’t seem so confident and assured this time as she approached him with a slight smile and seemed to put any emphasis into their gesture; you picked up on this.

now it was you that bombarded yourself with questions.

have you made a complete total fool of yourself?

did she think i didn’t like it?

how could you pratically dry fuck the girl and then shut her down like that?

does she think i shut her down?

you didn’t know what to think or what you were even thinking, i mean…did you like her? it was obvious she wasn’t straight and well you….honestly was never quite sure.

you knew you felt like shit now, she had been giving you all her energy.

you were too busy in your head to even listen.

“Ya heard that, girl? that ass got her in-love” Dina teased out, looking in-between you and ellie as her eyebrows wiggle.

you heard ellie scoff as she scratched the back of her neck, she continued to look at her feet.

you grabbed your coat which you knew Dina must have brought back, sliding in through both of your arms before your heels clicked closer to Ellie’s side.

“is that so? i think you’re gonna need to tell me more.”

you felt yourself bubble up confidently, it was your turn to smirk as you spoke.

ellie immediately whipped her head up as you stole her line from earlier.

it was visible Ellie flushed as crimson creeped onto her cheeks “what would you like to drink? it’s only fair since you took me for a sesh.” you offer, your arm interlinking with her mimicking the exact same actions except you were the instigator this time.

now ellie felt like a deer in headlights, caught off guard slightly. she didn’t except you to reciprocate the same confidence.

you both sat on the chairs next to Jesse and Dina.

“what could i get you two?” the bartender ask “i’ll be having a Michelada and hottie right here will have…" you say, making eye contact once you called her a ‘hottie’.

you could see ellie’s tongue poke through her cheek, trying to bite back amusement.

ellie swore you were going to make her heart explode with how fast it had been beating for the past hour.

“water with lime, thank you.” ellie replies, not even looking at the bartender when she said thank you. only you in her peripheral.

you were in utter perfect view for her, she could take in every feature and detail of your body.

the black wing-liner illuminating the natural shine of your gaze as your lips were complimented by a faded brown outline that blended in perfectly each time you smiled.

“so, is it my ass or me you fell in love with?”

“in love a strong word, mama” she quirked back.

that little nickname shot right through your ears straight to your stomach, fluttering it at the recollection.

you giggled and god, ellie didn’t think someone’s laugh could be so infectious.

“they were right though” ellie bit her lip slightly, not really wanting to look up at you as she referes to what Jesse and Dina said earlier.

she didn’t realize you were too in your head to pay attention.

“and what’s that exactly?”

“you really into repeating things, huh?” Ellie jokes out which you playfully roll your eyes too.

“wouldn’t you like to know…” your tone was suggestive as you leaned into her.

you weren’t quite sure what you were doing but it almost all felt natural now like you were meant to be; here, doing this, with her.

ellie thought she was delusional, hearing things and seeing things.

“i don’t dance—not like that, but you—whew…i wasn’t lying outside. im lucky it got to be you” ellie continues to insuinate teasingly, completely dazed under the bright light orange lighting illuminating from the bar-lights.

your makeup was almost cat-like making your eyes almost seem black by the dark eyeliner that tranced along your eyes.

you even had tattoos that speckled across your arms, she knew you had more and oh to explore those….

ellie was able to finally take in your jewelry, you had your very own name-plated gold necklace that dazzled amongst your natural russet-glow.

you were fiddling with one of your gold hoops which she observed as she read CHULA going through the earring.

ellie was shamelessly eye-fucking you, she knew it wasn’t appropriate.

it had only hit midnight and this green-eyed beauty was ready to get her car keys and tuck you into her bed, she could care less about anything let alone anyone as she lost herself in you.

she didn’t even realized but ellie had been unconsciously leaning into you, feeling the warmth of your aroma.

just like that, the drinks were being slid infront of you.

you would say you sipped your michi once you got it, but liquid courage amirite?

“how many women have you used that on, hm?” you play it off, feeling yourself become overwhelmed by the hedonistic feelings she urged from your heart.

it was unfamiliar to you, she was a woman and she’s the first to challenge you.

ellie’s expression furrowed as she raises the glass to her face.

your bold and catty personality intimidated men. you couldn’t remember the last time you grew nervous under male attention.

yet here you were, using your all to keep a cool composure with this woman.

she intimidated you. you didn’t like it, yet it was something you would now yearn for like a new drug.

“my first and i hope my last.”

ellie’s voice was above a meer whisper but you heard her loud and clear as your faces were just inches away from each other.

your tense auras begged to kiss, it seemed destined, almost too natural.

your eyes jumped in between her dulcet green eyes and her plumped lips.

it took everything in ellie not crash her lips onto yours, she didn’t want to scare you off.

it was almost like she knew something was up.

yet, you still inched closer.

you let the energies talk to each other almost, your central-egos almost fighting to accept but it was too insatiable.

your lips connect ever so softly. they fell so perfectly into each other, connecting like two magnets.

ellie could sense your hesitation which confused her but she tried her best to ease you by her kisses being peck-like.

ellie’s lips were so soft, it felt like you were kissing a cloud almost.

it felt like your lips had already been connected for centuries, familarized with the shape and movement.

the perfect sync was created between your kiss, you felt yourself fall into her as all your weary thoughts dwindle away.

you had suddenly forgetten why you were so hesitant.

you forgot why you were embarrassed earlier.

you forgot about the stressful morning you had with handling break-up messages.

hell, you had forgotten about him.

she completely belittled the memory of ever getting cheated on, as if it never happened.

by now, your faces were flushed together lips moving in quick hot-sync; far gone from the small little pecks now.

ellie could taste your lip-gloss.

was that watermelon flavor? oh my god…

you could feel ellie’s lip slightly quiver as she tried to get more access to your mouth, wanting to explore it more with tongue.

you give in easily as her steady warm-breathing through her nostrils were enough to make your body fuzzed up.

you wished to her closer to you, craving more of the bliss she brought you.

it was almost like ellie could sense you, she could feel and see each and every thought you had.

if that was the case, you would’ve scared the poor girl off by now.

she leaned closer into the kiss, her tongue lightly swiping at the bottom of your lip to pick up more of your flavored-gloss.

ellie’s hand rested on your lower knee, her thumb caressing figures onto your skin.

your breathing was staggered as you struggled to continue to kiss her, making yourself almost forceful as you try to continue.

it was almost too easy.

she made you too easy.

something a man could never conquer out of you.

you found yourself having to end up paying at the end of the night due to you leaving your brainless date there.

yet, everything that she oozed of attracted you like a fly to a lightbulb.

then everything stopped, almost like a vinyl abruptly screeching-stop on a record player.

she had pulled away from you, she looked a bit concerned “you okay?” ellie tried looking in your eyes for any sign of discomfort.

you were sure a slight flushed out hue was evident on your face as a mix of embarrassment and heat from the kiss.

jesus, can you get anymore embarrassing

you mentally scolded—you wish you could bitch-slap yourself right now.

you turned your stool back to your drink on the table, not looking at ellie but your glass.

a pool of water ringed around under the glass after you both left your drinks to let the ice-cubes melt in.

you fiddled with your straw as you drank from your glass “ya’ never make a woman breatheless before?” you tried to play coy.

you squinted at her playfully as you sipped “you could have anyone here and you know if.” she bit her lip, sneering out.

you were taken aback at by her gruffness, you didn’t deny the fact as you opened your mouth to respond—

“EVERYONE GO THE FUCK HOME! THE POLICE IS ON THERE WAY! GO THE FUCK HOME, THE CLUB, I DONT CARE! JUST GET THE FUCK OUT MY HOUSE! THANK YOU EVERYBODY HAVE A BLESSED NIGHT!” (random party host dude)

crowds began to scatter as the music abruptly stops, shrieks from some people rang through the building. it was almost a natural instinct grabbing ellie’s hand.

“we took an uber here!” you heard Dina explain as you ran up to her.

“Ellie drove, we’ll drop you off! we need to leave now!” Jesse shouts, pointing to the balcony that was slid wide open by others that ran out.

you stayed close to Dina as she held onto Jesse and you held onto ellie.

༺ ♱ ༻ ༺ ♱ ༻ ༺ ♱ ༻ ༺ ♱ ༻

the way the four of you ran together off into ellie’s car.

Ellie driving away while your in the passenger as Dina and Jesse make-out in the back.

you watching the police cars speed past you, unknowing that you were ever at that party.

Ellie’s eyes bounced in between her view and her car mirror; you had folded down to reapply your lip combo not too long ago.

she would steal glances at you, meeting your eyes occasionally.

the way your eyes sparkled as you grew shy that she caught you staring at her drive.

it was all canon, planned by divine timing.

so you could imagine how disheartening it was when ellie arrived to not yours, but Dina’s address.

Jesse and Dina stepped out first, it was almost like they wanted to give you a moment alone.

there was a moment of silence between the two of you as your eyes burned into each other.

you both wanted to soak in this cloud y’all created.

“give me your phone.” you beamed out, glow illuminating through her windscreen from Dina’s apartment lights.

you took one last good look at Ellie.

you took in the way her freckles sprinkled across her face, her pink lips pursed, and her skin glistened through by the light.

ellie gave you a loopy grin which made you giggle.

you began to tap away on her phone, creating your contact.

gatúbela 💋

111-222-33444

you opened her camera, turning the flash on. you straighten your posture before doing a quick wink as the picture snapped.

Ellie’s eyes just gawked into you, a lip tugged between her teeth.

you knew exactly who you were and Ellie couldnt wait to fucking find out.

“you give your number out to just anyone?” ellie teases, playing questionaire like you; earlier in party.

“you’re the first i give my real one too!” you giggled out which caused ellie to laugh along with you.

“im actually very flattered, mama” the nickname seemed too natural now, it was officially reserved for you and ellie didn’t even know.

now it was you biting your lip, stopping from smiling like an idiot at the epithet she referred to you as before.

she smirked as she looked down at the contact, the name of the song that was playing when you both were dancing.

you unlooped your mini-purse from around your arm, digging in it.

“here, so you don’t forget about me”

you put your chocolate lipliner in her cupholder.

just like that, you were exiting her car as Jesse took the passenger seat you were once sat in.

you walked off into the midnight, entering through dark apartment building.

ellie spent the rest of her night replaying every moment of you like her favorite movie.

ellie couldn’t forget you, not after tonight.

she is going to see you again, she would make sure of it.

dolls-taglist : ̗̀➛ @snowy-vee @elliesleftflap @tphmnv @starrkissezz @we-loveebony @lavenderhazelsworld @liasxeatt @marsworlddd @littlegingerperson5 @kissthedewdrops @elliewilliamsgirl3 @graviewaviee @gato-chino @elliesgf1244 @deliriousrn @cosmopolitanaut @yumimak @elliewilliamgfooc @bunnyrose01 @bready101

to join taglist click here !

#ellie williams x female reader #ellie williams #ellie williams tlou #ellie williams the last of us #lesbian #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams x you #ellie williams smut #ellie the last of us #the last of us fandom #the last of us fanfiction #ellie williams series #GATÚ🌺

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whimsigothwitch · 4 months

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Imbolc "In the belly" (Feb 1-2) 🐑 Midway point between the winter solstice and spring equinox, Winter is slowly but surely coming to an end and spring is just around the corner. The days are getting longer and snowdrops, crocus and daffodils are starting to bloom. Farmers sow the first seeds, sheep are lactating and the first lambs are born. Imbolc is all about purification, fertility and rebirth.

Correspondences for Imbolc: Symbols; lambs, Brigid cross, candles, sun, fire, seeds, milk, spring flowers. Colors; white, pastels (green, yellow), earth tones, gold. Spells; Cleansing, gratitude, rebirth/renewal. Crystals; amethyst, quartz, aventurine, selenite, moonstone. Flowers and herbs; lavender, rosemary, cinnamon, bay leaf, chamomile. Food; pancakes, milk, soups, seasonal vegetables, seeds, cheese, yogurt, poppyseeds, homemade bread, cakes, dried fruits, teas. Imbolc activities; cleaning, planning your garden, planting the first seeds, nature walk, lightning candles, bake bread, make a Brigid cross, write poems, make art.

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ghostlyferrettarot · 1 month

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◆Pick a picture: 🪩Random messages from your soulmate🪩

•Pile 1 •Pile 2 •Pile 3

❗️This is a collective reading, take what resonates and leave the rest❗️

✨️Paid Services ✨️ (Natal charts and tarot readings) Open.

♥︎If you like my work you can support me through Ko-fi. Thank you!♥︎

🪩Masterlist🪩

🪩Pile 1:

♥︎" You will be at the top of the world soon"

♥︎" It's time to focus"

♥︎" I love what you do with your hair"

♥︎"The better days are coming, you can sense it too, right?

♥︎" I'm always by your side, when you feel lonely just remember me"

♥︎" Just speak your mind love, you make the rules"

♥︎" Get better rest, you deserve that"

🪩Signs: Butterflys, Sharks, The nature breeze, green, spring time, gold jewerly, dimples.

♥︎I feel like soulmate wants you to take a well deserve vacation or rest time pile 1, you may be dealing with a lot at the moment and your body and mind need to recharge. I also see that you are a perfectionist at heart, they want you to take it easy and be kinder with yourself, you will reach your goals, don't worry.

🪩Pile 2:

♥︎" Your smile it's worth a millon dollars"

♥︎"Enjoy the present, we still don't know what's coming next"

♥︎"I need anyone else, you are my favorite already"

♥︎"Don't be so grumpy"

♥︎"Buy the thing, treat yourself, it will make you happy"

♥︎"I'm happy when you are happy"

♥︎"I don't like mornings but you sure make them better"

♥︎"Let's just be you and i for a moment"

🪩Signs: Minimalist aesthetic, you may see them in dreams, clouds, polar bears, blue and white, pink, picnics dates.

♥︎Pile 2 your soulmate wants you to prioritize your happiness right now, i see that you are someone who always put everyone else first; your person says that although they love this about you, you can't lose yourself taking care of others. It's time for you to enjoy and care for yourself the same ways you do with others. They love and care for you really deeply.

🪩Pile 3:

♥︎"I love the way you look at me"

♥︎"Let's go on adventures together!"

♥︎"Can i come over? Can i hug you tonight?"

♥︎"I'll literally buy anything you are selling"

♥︎"I can hear you talk for hours, just admiring you"

♥︎"I'm clingy but i know you love it ;)"

♥︎"You are the ying to my yang, no one compares to you my love"

🪩Signs: Cats, Fruits , Air signs, Complementary colors, Videogames and music.

♥︎Pile 3 your person it's so fun, i feel like the both of you will make an incredibly couple. Both will share a lot of inside jokes, there's a level of complicity that's so precious between you two 😭. This person may communicate with you through music. You two will share a lot of hobbies and could possibly start a business together. You are my "Friends to Lovers" pile.

🪩Thanks for reading and tell me if it resonated🪩

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mistydeyes · 8 months

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hiiiii I LOVE YOUR WORK!!!!!!!! Can you please do 141 with a model reader who does Chanel,Versace etc and she gets an invite to do Victoria’s Secret runway and they see her down the runway how would they react

she’s not any model shes and icon,sex symbol,brains,she is the moment

big inspo for me ( I want to become a model)

AHHH I LOVE THIS! anon i feel you tho, every time i look on pinterest i just want to be a model! thank you for requesting <3

┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊

summary: The 141 has always had an odd connection of friends, allies, and connections. However, they can't deny that they don't enjoy your luxurious life as a model and the perks that come along with attending one of your shows.

pairing: Taskforce 141 x fem!reader

warnings: swearing

┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊

A series of events in Milan allowed the 141 to cross paths with you. Staying in a lavish French penthouse was far from what they had expected on a mission dictated by Laswell but her connections with your retired INTERPOL mother had brought them the extravagance of your home and lifestyle. Laswell had to threaten to have their court marshaled if they delayed their arrival home any longer. You thought of that brief moment in summer fondly as you left Gaz a voicemail. "I have a runway in New York coming up, let me know if you'll be on leave," you spoke on the phone, examining your manicured nails, "accommodations and champagne are on me."

"This is nice," Price said, dropping his duffle onto the marbled tile of their hotel room. "Are you kidding, Cap?" Gaz said as he opened every door into the massive suite, "This is fucking amazing." When they got off the plane at JFK, they had not expected a private driver who brought them to the ornate hotel. The room itself had four separate bedrooms with two bathrooms filled with the best amenities. Soap had taken the opportunity to run over and open a bottle of champagne while Ghost pilfered the small shampoo and conditioner bottles. While the men explored the vast rooms and fought over the beds, there was a knock at the door. Price opened it to reveal a well-dressed bell-hop boy, holding a tray with an envelope. "Four tickets sent by one of the models," he spoke and Price handled the black envelope with embossed pink lettering. "Hell of invitation," he muttered before he looked at the runway time and shared the details with his team. "Wonder what she'll be wearing," Soap mused as he turned to take over one of the bathrooms.

Behind the stage, there was organized chaos with models running around in their silk robes in between the stations. The chatter roared as they chatted with the various hair stylists and makeup artists. "First VS show?" your makeup artist asked as she applied glitter delicately to your primed lids. "Yes, but not my first modeling gig," you smiled as you felt the pressure on your closed eyes, "Versace was beyond a mess compared to this." The artist laughed as she continued to prep your look. You could see mixes of pink and gold applied to your lips and the apples of your cheeks. "We think an olive green liner would look stunning on you," she said before holding a green eyeliner pencil in hand. You nodded in response as you shifted a bit in your robe. You gently closed your eyes again as you envisioned your latest outfit for the night.

Weeks prior you had visited the city to see your outfit for the night. A sage green bra and panty set decorated with pink and glittery flowers to resemble a meadow. Your wings were made of a delicate rose pink chiffon that was reminiscent of a fairy. "Do you like?" the designer asked as you walked around the stand and examined every stitch and detail. You smiled as you nodded happily, feeling the soft fabric under your fingertips. "Any particular inspiration?" you questioned as you made sure to feel the weight of the wings. "The newest line of Victoria's Secret," she spoke dreamily, "the delicacy of nature."

With your makeup and hair done, you walked over to change and receive the final touches from the design team. The group walked rapidly around your figure, assuring every detail would shine when the lights hit your walk. "Have anyone special here tonight?" one of the designers asked as he cut a few loose stitches. "Just a few friends from Europe," you spoke, hoping you didn't sound too entitled. You wanted to talk more but your odd friendship with a small special forces group would definitely reach some tabloids. "You look perfect darling," another designer spoke and you nodded before beginning to walk in your heels. "You can mingle with the others. Your collection is after the classics set," she reminded. You took a deep breath and made some facetious conversation with the other women. They were in awe at your previous shows but you just simply talked as if each was a mediocre experience. "Alright ladies, walk begins in five," a voice called over the comms and you lined up accordingly. As you watched the excited group in front of you, you wondered what you would treat the 141 to for dinner. You were sure if someone knew this is what you thought of before a show, they would laugh.

"Move up, Y/N," the stage manager directed, pulling you out of your food-related musings, "almost time for you to go on." You moved forward, getting into the comfort of your model walk you had done so many times before. You took a deep breath as you heard the live music stream through the curtains and the ethereal light peek through. You looked down at your attire one last time before the model ahead of you returned and it was your turn to awe the show. "Go, go, go," you could hear the stage manager command as the bright lights and menagerie of faces met your gaze.

"I think this is her!" Gaz commented, leaning forward in his chair. "You've been saying that for the past four models," Ghost corrected before he turned to see who was coming out next. As the men directed their gaze to the stage, you confidently strutted onto the platform. They were glued to your figure, perfectly accentuated by the flirtatious lingerie set. The details were delicate and encapsulated your aura. "Fuck." Soap whispered under his breath as the glitter and flower additions to your ensemble shimmered underneath the light. Your wings bounced and looked like they flittered in the air as you made your way in front of the watching crowd. "She's a natural at this," Price commented as he watched the way you walked in a straight line with an air of elegance in each step. He also couldn't deny the way you shined on stage and how the cameras clicked in rapid succession. As you reached the end of the runway, you took an opportunity to look over at the seats you had picked for the 141. You gave a small wink before blowing a kiss in their direction.

Upon your exiting, there was a clamor amongst the group as to who the kiss was directed to. Primarily, Soap and Gaz were at odds thinking you made eye contact with them as you puckered your glossed lips. Price attempted to put a stop to them before Ghost spoke up. "I'm sure that was for me," he spoke quietly, leaving everyone to shelf the conversation and bring it up later over dinner.

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dollsuguru · 3 months

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black is the color of my true love’s hair

♡ your devotion to suguru is second to none - you would do anything for your beloved! bonded by true love, loyalty, & utter admiration, these are a few moments where suguru has been unbelievably thankful for you & smitten by your acts of love & service! (a story from my suguru geto: valentine’s day fic list!)

contents: f!reader, no curses au, reader is short/blushes/has hair that can be ran through with fingers! slightly suggestive, cursing, mentions of depression/anxiety/self-destructive behaviors. but i promise this is a soft, fluffy fic! it’ll make sense when you read it! dividers are from @saradika! w.c: ~ 11.5k

a/n: belated birthday fic for my beloved husband suguru geto <3 the title of the fic is based on a rendition of the song “black is the colour” by celtic woman! imo it’s the most loving & devotional song i’ve ever heard so i wanted to do a story based on those themes with my favorite black-haired man <3 MY true love <3 p.s. this is my first time ever writing an actual fic & it got a bit long because i got carried away so please bear w me! i hope you enjoy and happy valentine’s day! <3 MWAH!

it’s a simple action, really.

you tilt your head slightly to the right and lift your face up to gaze adoringly at him through your lashes, a mirthful twinkle dancing in your eyes. a soft smirk coupled with a light blush adorns your angelic features, a precious look, which suguru has come to be utterly enchanted by due to the loving action that follows immediately after.

you catch him off guard the first time you do it.

the first time you kiss suguru’s knuckles, he falters.

it’s the way that you do it. naturally & effortlessly, as if it’s like second nature, that causes suguru to stop in his tracks and dedicate all of his attention to you.

his mesmerizing gaze is directed at you, molten gold eyes inquisitive. irrevocably fond.

he attentively watches as you softly grab his large warm hand in your small cold one. his hands are slightly rough yet supple due to his religious use of the honey-almond handcream you bought him earlier in the week.

he notices, rather than intertwining your fingers with his own and holding them, you smoothly bring his hand up to your face, wrapping your digits loosely around the perimeter of his long slender fingers.

your thumb gingerly caresses his ring finger (the one that holds a devout vow of eternal love), your featherlight touch raising wonderful shivers across his body. with the utmost care, you delicately, as if he’s made out of precious china, brush your supple glossed lips against his fingers, relishing in the coolness of his promise ring that encases both his aquamarine birthstone & your own.

your low-lidded enamored eyes never leave his affectionately curious ones — both of you preciously holding the other ones gaze. eyes locked in a staring contest of love.

utterly content with his undivided attention, you gently press a soft kiss to his knuckles.

a sign of affection.

an act, a promise, of complete & utter devotion.

his pierced eyebrow raises slightly due to the suaveness of your actions. he tries to gather his bearings, his brain fuzzy with your actions — did you actually just do that?

suguru’s amber eyes widen significantly, soft black eyelashes fluttering like raven wings against the tan of his cheek that’s blushed with a hue of raspberry red. mouth slightly ajar in surprise, his silver lip ring glints like starlight in the sunset daze of the evening, while his pierced tongue is pressed against his own cheek to stop himself from becoming a bumbling, stuttering mess.

if he speaks — he wholeheartedly believes all that’ll tumble out of his lips will be unabashedly fervent divulgances of: “i love you. i love you. i love you.”

adoration blooms out of his ribcage like a meadow of daffodils, sweetness enveloping around his heart, soft ivory petals and sage green tendrils wrapping themselves delicately over his bones. he reckons that if you couldn’t hear his heartbeat hammering out of his chest before, you definitely can now.

it’s almost as if his brain is in clouds of cotton candy, his mind in a sweet haze of shock, love, & affection. he finds himself whispering airily, “why’d you do that?”

tenderly stroking away silky strands of ink-black hair that wisp around his ethereal face, the fond smile you grace him with is saccharine sweet, “i felt like it.”

unbelievably charmed, he can’t help the giggle that spills its way out through his mouth like honey, a syrupy-sweet sounding little thing. his shaky fingers cover his rosy lips slightly as he laughs bashfully. he’s a bit shy because of it, but you don’t think a sound has ever been so melodious to your ears. you’d get down on one knee to kiss his knuckles reverently as many times as he wants just to hear his laughter over and over and over again.

the way you see it, it’s as if you were put on this earth to devote yourself to him.

like a loyal knight kisses the ring on the hand of their king with the utmost veneration, you’d do the same. without question, worshipping the ground whereupon he stands like a faithful follower would do to a cult leader. you figure in all of the other multiverses, you’re ultimately doing the same thing as what you’re doing in this one: loving him — devoutly. earnestly. passionately.

if the look of ardent rapture on your face is anything to go by, suguru might faint with the rush of pure love & endearment that flows like nectar throughout his veins.

he feels his blush bloom over his warm face which rushes towards the tips of his pierced ears, a clear sign of you flustering him.

wanting to gain back some semblance of control of the situation, he puts on a poker face, a gentleness in his eyes & a fondness in his smile still shining through. his black-nail polished thumb grazes your soft wind-chilled cheek. a beacon of warmth. a caress of admiration accompanied with a well-maintained façade of smoothness. a comforting touch for the both of you.

“well, aren’t you just so sweet.” suguru can’t help the coo that escapes his cherry red lips when you look up at him with your precious doe eyes, “my pretty little baby.”

he softly pinches your cheek, admiring the soft plush. he cradles your cheek with the same hand, & carefully smoothes down your hair that’s been strewn around a bit by the evening wind with the other. suguru pats your head in a nurturing manner in the process, another fond coo escaping him when he sees you preen at the attention he gives you, affectionately watching you revel in the flattering treatment.

your eyes widen with joy, always keening with any praise he showers you with. “i’d like to think so! now come on sugu, your pretty little baby has a lil surprise for you!” you playfully wink at him, your smile beaming like sunshine.

your warm eyes map his stunning features reverently, memorizing his elegant visage. drinking in his otherworldly beauty. as if you could never get enough.

while you openly admire him, suguru does the same to you. he doesn’t think that he’s ever been this enamored by a human being before. you’re the center of his universe, and he can’t imagine his life without you. all he can see in this moment is: you. his intense gaze holds yours as he captures both of your cheeks in his warm gentle hands, enveloping himself in your space. the perfume he bought you for your birthday invades his senses, clouding his mind in a welcomed haze.

all he can think of at the moment is: you. you. you.

all he can repeat in his mind is: mine. mine. mine.

his eyes gleam with a newfound sense of desire, wanting to show you exactly what you mean to him. what you do to him.

his golden eyes that are now an onyx, dilated with desire, flit to your mouth. his thumb outlines your pretty lips that are begging to be devoured by his own. his right hand moves to cradle the back of your head, tilting your face up so he can comfortably take control. long, slender fingers splay across your hair, bringing you closer to him, slightly tugging the strands to hear and feel you gasp against his mouth. he presses his left hand against the small of your back, coaxing you further into his body, fusing you both together. not wanting to be even a millimeter apart. he just can’t get enough of you.

it’s like a magnetic gravitational pull when he presses a soft, sensual kiss against your glossy lips. the cold metal ball in his pierced tongue explores the wet cavern of your mouth, and he can’t help but moan softly into you, relishing in your warmth.

he prays to the stars above, hoping that he can convey his sincere love, desire, & admiration for you like this. he breathes life into you and you do the same to him. kissing you with such vigor & passion, he feels like melding your lips & souls together wouldn’t be enough. he burns with a hunger to become one with you. he pleads to the universe that the intensity of his desire and yearning is relayed to you — that you crave it, crave him as much as he craves you.

with the way he’s ravenously kissing you, and how you’re excitedly kissing him back, it seems like you certainly received the message.

suguru thinks it’s a little bit funny, but very much endearing, when you run around the living room like a bumbling fawn.

you zig-zag around the counter, making sure you pick up the purse that suguru got for you on your previous anniversary, an acrylic charm of your favorite anime character clinking against the metal fastenings. (another gift that suguru got you, begrudgingly he might admit, because who the hell is that toji fushiguro guy anyways…)

you double check that all the contents you need are inside: phone, charger, lip gloss, mini perfume, credit cards — AH! you run back to your room like a panther, not wanting to forget the most important thing you need for tonight!

he can’t help himself but laugh at your frazzled antics. “baby, you can calm down! we’re going on a picnic, it’s almost impossible for us to be late!” suguru admires your punctuality, he thinks it’s sweet how you never want to keep him waiting.

“FORGOT SOMETHING, I ALMOST DIED.” you rush back to him, big goofy smile on your face.

“baby… you’re heaving.” suguru covers his mouth, trying not to giggle out loud at how out of breath you are just by running a few feet. you’re so fucking cute.

“damn…” you huff out, hands on your knees, trying to get a deep breath in. “don’t call me out like that.”

he can’t help the laugh that bellows out of him, “sorry angel, now let’s go!” he places his large hands against your back, ushering you out the door quickly, “you still haven’t told me where we’re going.”

walking you towards his black mercedes, he opens the passenger side for you. with both hands on your hips, you remind him that, “it’s a SURPISE!”

after around 45 minutes of both of you jamming out to your playlist in the car, poking his cheek while childishly asking “are we there yet?” just to annoy him for fun, and ultimately being a proper passenger princess who tells him to “just trust me!” when he asks where you two are going, you both arrive to your destination.

and the sight that he sees, enthralls him. he whistles, beguiled by the view. from here, he can see how pretty and bright the stars are, it almost looks like they’re twinkling a “hello!” at the both of you. suguru thinks to himself, a picnic here at night? he’s unbelievably mesmerized at how your brain works sometimes.

he turns to face you, watching how engrossed you are in your phone, tapping away incessantly. wanting your full attention, his fingers grab your chin gently to force you to look him. he jokingly purrs, “if you took me here to kill me, i’ll have you know… sitting on my face would be much easier. much more preferred.”

you raise your eyebrow questioningly.

“because… it’s dark and we’re in random clearing.”

you stare at him blankly. “okay, you’ve hung out with me waaaay too much because i literally said that pick-up line to you last week and now you’re blatantly stealing it… like a THIEF. and also? you drove us here. who the hell is gonna drive me back if you’re dead?”

his brows furrow and he pouts, annoyed that you didn’t fall into his arms and blush because of his (your) raunchy words. he turns away from you and opens his door to leave, brattily huffing out a, “hmph. shut up, dumbass.” with his head held up high in the air, he struts away pompously to the trunk, opening and closing it loudly. a picnic basket with food you both made together in one hand, and a soft quilt of constellations made by haibara & nanami for suguru’s previous birthday in the other.

how fitting.

you loudly snicker to yourself while getting out of the car, amused by your boyfriend’s spoiled antics. while suguru is front of you admiring the view and trying to find a spot to set up, you admire the view in front of you. whistling out a, “damn…” suguru scoffs at your flirty behavior and gives you the finger. you send an air kiss back, and he playfully swats it away.

when he turns away again, you smile to yourself dreamily. taking out your phone, you click a quick candid of him against the night sky, admiring at how he looks like a painting.

the cream of his sweater and the contrast of his cascading ink-black hair entrances you, the silver hairpin you got him during a couple’s trip to kyoto in the top of his bun. the dangling deep violet amethyst gem glints in the moonlight, making him look even prettier. he turns his head to the left, from here you can’t see his eyebrow piercing or his lip piercing since they’re both on the right side of his face, but you do see his eyebrow slit — a scar which you’ve softly traced over many times. his side profile allures you effortlessly, the angular bridge of his nose and the soft cupid’s bow of his lip offering up a beautiful contrast that is suguru: graceful yet strong.

shaking your head slightly, you break out of your trance.

you go back to the task at hand, opening your notes app and ticking off the word at the top of your list.

stargazing. ✔️

you remember suguru mentioned it in passing one day when you were both in the beginning stages of your relationship. it was on his date bucket-list ever since he could remember, and of course you wanted to be the one who would take him!

you guide him over to a little meadow overlooking the city. surrounding you both are beautiful moonflowers, their sweetness enveloping your sinuses. the air is cool and crisp, and in the distance you hear the faint chirps & buzzing of hummingbirds along with the faint caws of ravens. you’re proud of yourself that you were able to find a place this picturesque. (even to this day, you still have an urge to impress suguru in any way that you can.)

both of you sit on the quilt suguru sets down, the homemade cloth providing an extra layer of cushioning that you feel atop the softness of the grass.

you’re upon the hill clearing, close enough to the city that you can comfortably drive back while still seeing a few citylights from where you are, but far away enough that the light pollution wouldn’t interfere with the date you had planned.

“it’s pretty.” suguru glances at the view, praising you while taking out the tonkatsu sandwiches, pasta salad, & chocolate covered strawberries from your picnic wicker-basket. you pick up a bag of chips and start munching on it while he lays down on his back propped up on his elbows, opening up a banana milk to sip on.

“i’m glad you like it,” your words are muffled in between loud crunches and fast chewing, “i was worried we’d be attacked by a mountain lion or a swarm of bees or some shit.” you say honestly.

he blinks. “i wasn’t worried about that. but i am now.” he takes another sip of his banana milk in case it’s his last.

he sits up and picks up the tonkatsu sandwich, handing you the bigger half. “but seriously, how’d you find this place?”

you take the smaller half from his grasp instead, switching with him. taking a bite, you hum happily. suguru is such a good cook. he smiles at you fondly and you answer him, “i was searching up good places to look at the stars. out of all the pictures and reviews, this was the prettiest one.”

you look up at him and swear that you see an actual twinkle in his eyes.

“stargazing?” he pushes his bangs back behind his ear, leaning into your face. loudly repeating, “STARGAZING???” nose pressed against yours, an excitedly manic look in his eyes.

he throws his head back and waves his arms in the air, lamenting, “i should’ve bought a fucking telescope!”

he directs his gaze back towards you, pointing his finger at you accusingly while demanding, “we are coming here again in the future, okay? i’ll bring all of my astronomy gear: a telescope, binoculars, a constellation book, and oooooh! maybe i’ll also bring…” you unintentionally tune him out, looking at him adoringly with stars in your eyes.

this is what you wanted to see.

if you’re being honest with yourself, the best thing to experience in your life is getting to see suguru act genuinely excited. his eagerness to discover new things is infectious, and the man before you is the real suguru: dorky, eclectic, passionate.

the graceful, poised, & elegant man you see when he meets new people and the air of sultriness & suaveness he has when he takes you on fancy dates are utterly enchanting & beguiling, but you think that suguru you see before you now — the excitable nerd, is the most beautiful.

he flicks your forehead, breaking you out of your reverie. “have you been listening to a word i’ve been saying?” he scolds you while pinching your cheek extra hard.

“yeah, you want a telescope so you can look at the stars. also, you look really pretty… the stars ain’t got nothin’ on you.” you rest your chin in your hand, smirking at him, reveling in the blush that paints his cheeks. it was just the cold wind!, he’d tell you later while playfully smacking you upside the head.

you continue, “plus, it’s really hot when you’re all stern and tellin’ me off. what’s my incentive to listen to every word you say if i can get you scoldin’ me instead?” you tilt your head against your hand, grin wide, teeth bared. the masochist in you wants him to scold you even further.

he crosses his arms at you, muscles bulging out of his cream cableknit sweater. your eyes drink up the adonis right in front of you, mentally undressing him. “instead of hitting on me, how about i explain all of the constellations to you in extreme detail?” he purrs to you while biting his lip. he flips his hair over his shoulder, sultrily looking at you. you see right through him of course, knowing that he’s appeasing to your attraction to him just so he can ramble about ursa major, ursa minor, & the big dipper.

frankly. it works.

he holds his hand out to you. a truce.

you shrug. “if you do it like a hot stern professor, then sure.” you both shake on it.

he rolls his eyes playfully, trying to stop the smile that threatens to creep up on his face. “ugh. fine. be quiet and come over here.” he picks you up underneath your thighs and puts you in between his legs. your back pressed against his warm, sturdy chest. he kisses you on the head, appreciative of your indulgence of him.

you giggle cutely and move yourself down, laying your head in his lap while he softly plays with your hair. his lovesick gaze, fond smile, & warm thighs envelope your body, filling your senses with suguru. he leans down and presses a soft kiss against your forehead, an addicting contrast of his cold lip ring & warm soft lips electrifying your skin.

he pops a single chocolate-covered strawberry in your mouth, and you playfully nip his finger. he traces your lips softly and starts playfully lecturing you about the constellations that grace the night sky.

he excitedly points at a cluster of three bright stars, “and that is orion’s belt!”

you point at a bright star in the night sky a few lightyears away from it, grin unbelievably wide.

“i think you might be missing one, babe. and you call yourself the modern-day galileo. heh.” you playfully tease him.

suguru rolls his eyes, “okay first of all, i have never called myself that. second of all — excuse me?” his scoff is slightly haughty, & he can’t help the indignant laugh that escapes out of him. “alright, since you know so much — enlighten me then, what’s that one called?”

“hmm… i believe it’s sugurugeto-020390.”

suguru’s eyes widen ridiculously like flying saucers.

“what?”

you push yourself out of his grasp to pull out a certificate from your purse and hand it to him. you sit next to him cross-legged, gauging his reaction.

“trust me, i wish i could get a better name for it, but it turns out there’s a lot of suguru geto’s in the world.”

pausing for a moment, you want to make sure that your boyfriend knows that he’s the only suguru geto on your mind.

giving him bedroom eyes, you purr, “none like you of course.”

he blinks. “what?”

your face falls comically, and you pout, “that bright star in the sky is yours.” you point at it haphazardly. “you’re the light of my life, you illuminate my life, you’re the sole star and center of my universe, blah blah blah… so i figured… ya know…!” you gesticulate wildly, and in the moonlight suguru can see the slight blush on your cheeks. your eyes looking everywhere else but his own.

you’re shy.

he can feel the sinus pressure building up against his nose and the tears glaze over his eyes.

you scratch the back of your head, trying to save face. you quickly backtrack, “i know it’s a bit cheesy and honestly, technically, this was probably a scam, but i figured it was the thought that counts and–”

“shut up.”

you look up at him in a state of shock, “HAH???”

he grabs your cheeks, his silver rings cool against your face, and smashes his lips against your own, teeth slightly knocking against yours. in his excitement, he pushes you down and straddles you, pinning you down to the grass — his body a comforting weight on top of you. he kisses you breathlessly, moaning loudly in your mouth. you can both taste the fruitiness of the strawberry on each others tongues, your own being pressed softly against his piercing. you pull away softly, needing to take a breath.

and the sight above you is one you don’t think you’ll ever want to forget.

suguru’s seductive low-lidded gaze is locked on you, parts of his bangs wisped across his face from the momentum of pouncing on you. he’s breathing heavily, and you can feel his rapid heartbeat hammering against yours, his nipple piercings slightly poking into your chest. a rosy blush spreads itself on his cheeks like a strawberry jam, and you don’t think any view could compare to the one you’re blessed to see now.

his lips are red and glossy, aching to kiss you again. you nod softly, begging him to continue. he slots his lips back with your own, tracing your bottom lip with his tongue before he bites down sensually, groaning loudly when he hears you whimper. he curls an arm underneath your body while kissing you passionately, bringing you closer to him, enveloping you into his space. all you can think about in this moment is: suguru. suguru. suguru.

pulling away once more, and peering deep into his amber orbs, you think that his eyes carry the most beautiful stars. a milky way of ochre and obsidian.

never casting your fond gaze aside, you intertwine your hand with his, bringing it to your lips, kissing each knuckle fervently.

his alluring gaze follows your devoted actions. butterflies brush their wings together inside his stomach, the flutter erupting throughout his whole entire being. he thinks that in the moonlight, underneath the canopy of stars that…

you are the most brightest.

the most beautiful.

the most meaningful.

“honey! i’m hoooooooome!”

you feel unbelievably ecstatic that you can finally get to see your dear boyfriend after two weeks of being apart!

you already have the whole day planned out, perhaps you two can get takeout from your favorite local restaurant and watch anime together! you giggle happily to yourself while thinking about how you both can snuggle and have a cozy day in.

you take your shoes, coat, & purse off by yourself, wondering if suguru is out. usually by the time you’re at the door, suguru is already there welcoming you back with a massive kiss and a “missed you baby.” softly whispered in your ear, especially if you go on a long trip…

hmm, that’s a bit odd.

now that you’re looking around…

the apartment is in complete disarray.

it looks like a tornado blew through the whole place.

you shuffle in further… and dirty dishes are piled in the sink, overflowing dangerously. suguru’s clothes, random knick knacks, and pillows are strewn about as if he threw them all in a fit of rage. crumbs litter the carpet and you see what looks to be dirt tracks on the floorboards. the laundry is stacked high and the air is stuffy, it seems like no windows were opened in the time that you were away.

worriedly, you run into your shared bedroom.

suguru is there, thank god safe & sound, but what you see breaks your heart.

he’s laid face down, the left side of his cheek smooshed into the pillow, black tear tracks staining the fabric… he must’ve cried on a day when he went out? the bedroom is filled with dirty clothes on the floor, and you’re pained to smell the stench of cigarettes in the air. it’s light… maybe he only smoked one… but the fact that he felt the need to smoke at all, shattered your soul.

especially considering he quit ages ago when he started dating you.

you walk towards him lightly, not wanting to scare him off. his eyes are open and he looks at you… but he’s not really looking at you.

“you alright there, precious?” you softly whisper.

a perfunctory question. you know he’s not. he knows he’s not. but you know he’s in no state to answer any questions that you have.

“mhm.” he hums quietly. lethargic, not even having the willpower to answer with anything but a light rasp.

you brush back his bangs, and he shudders. his hair is greasy, oil-black hair clumping together in some places, matted in others. his lips are slightly chapped, a bit bloodied no doubt from his habit of biting his lip when he’s anxious. his fingernails are no stranger to the same action, stubbed and jagged down to the nailbed, his black nail polish chipped. bright amber eyes which often have a gentle look in them have turned into a dull ochre, obsidian pupils overtaking his irises.

they’re still gentle because he’s looking at you… but if you’re being honest with yourself, his eyes remind you a bit of a black hole right now.

vacant of light.

you press a soft kiss against his forehead and leave the room momentarily, thinking to yourself if anything can be done about this situation.

you decide to shoot satoru a quick text, seeing if he can help you out a bit with what you want to do.

you breathe out a sigh of relief, a small smile gracing your face. you can always count on satoru. the man may be silly and eclectic, but at the core of his being, he’s someone who will always take care of and look out for his friends. he’s the type of person to drop anything to help those that he loves and adores.

(sometimes you think that satoru really was an angel put onto earth.) (but then you think that he was probably cast out of heaven for being a little shit.) (regardless, you still fucking love him for it.)

you walk back into the room, and lay your head against your pillow that is next to suguru’s. (it smells like him… he must’ve hugged it while you were away.)

cradling his cheek, you quietly say, “satoru’s also back from his business trip babe, he’ll be coming in about 10 minutes. how about you get a bit of sunshine with him, hmm?” he blinks slowly, nodding softly.

you hold his hand to help him up out from the bed, but he shoos you away, admonishing you slightly, “i can do it myself.”

you nod and leave him to it, mentally preparing yourself for the behemoth cleaning task ahead when he leaves.

suguru pads slowly into the bathroom and puts his hair up in a high ponytail with a hairtie he stole from you, not wanting to deal with it. he washes his face and gets a wet rag to pat down his body and underarms, not having the energy to shower. putting on a random black sweatshirt, he douses himself in your favorite cologne of his. he puts on your strawberry lip balm while popping a piece of mint gum in his mouth. with a tired sigh, he exits the bathroom, dragging his feet to where you are at the door.

he kisses your temple gently. you plant a soft kiss against his knuckles. you think your eyes deceive you when you see a semblance of a twinkle in his eyes. “love you baby. i’ll bring you back somethin’.” he rasps out softly.

even in his darkest times, even when his mind is playing tricks on him, he’s still thinking of you. wanting to take care of you. desiring to show his affections towards you in any way that he can.

you simply want to return the favor.

satoru arrives, wearing a crisp white button up and black tinted glasses, his snowy white hair shining like starlight thanks to the sunbeams that hit him. he hugs suguru gently, placing a soft kiss against his temples. suguru, dressed in all black just nods his head lightly at him. he’s not really interested in going out but knows that you two will force him regardless, reminding him that getting sunshine and looking at different scenery is important.

as they get into the car and back out of the driveway, suguru waves lightly at you, eyes tired yet gentle. satoru winks at you, proud & thankful that suguru has someone that cares so deeply for his mental, emotional, and physical wellbeing.

waving them both a goodbye, you go back inside and put on your cleaning playlist, ready to get started.

the first thing you do is open up the blinds and windows, wanting to air out the stuffiness that had built up over the past two weeks. considering the fact that suguru got a tinge paler and his undereyes looked sunken, you don’t think he got even a single beam of sunshine or any semblance of fresh air in the time that you were away.

padding over to the kitchen, you begin by doing the dishes. wearing your matching baby blue dishgloves, you get to work. it seems like suguru got anxious by seeing all the dishes piled up and started using some paper plates, which would explain the overflowing trash as well. the dishes are caked with food, but soften a bit by dousing them in water along with spritzing a powerwash grease-lifting spray. you sigh happily, glad that this will make it easier. after washing, drying, and putting away the dishes, you turn your attention to the kitchen surfaces.

you wipe down the counter and dining table in circular motions with a lemon-verbena spray, disposing of any old particles of food and random dust that lay upon the surfaces. already in your cleaning mode, you start to feel a little bit more energized.

opening up the refrigerator, you see that it’s been practically untouched. unfortunately, you gag when you smell rotting veggies and fruits, promptly rushing to your kitchen cabinet to get your trash bag to toss any old food away. you mentally remind yourself to get groceries in the morning, maybe if suguru is feeling a bit better after today you both can go together!

walking into the living room, you get your cleaning towel to beat the dust out of all the furniture. usually you & suguru both start with the bedrooms, but this time you figure you’d start with the living room as it’s in a bit of a better shape than the bedroom.

after you finish beating the living hell out of your cushions, you get to swiffering, mopping, and vacuuming — humming and singing loudly to suguru’s favorite songs on your shared cleaning playlist.

you go into the bedroom and start by gathering all of the clothes on the floor and the ones in the hamper to put inside the washing machine. you look around and do the same with the bedsheets and pillow cases, rubbing the eyeliner out of suguru’s pillowcase with some makeup remover first.

cleaning out all of the drawers, you make sure to throw away any random trash and only keep what’s necessary. clutter bothers both you and suguru, so you do your best to try and minimize that. you pick up empty bottles off the nightstand and throw them away. at least he drank a bit of water.

turning your attention to your bookcase, you wipe down the multitude of pictures of you & suguru that he put in frames.

there’s a few of both of you smiling after going on cute dates — suguru’s grin unbelievably wide while flipping off the camera and holding you close to his chest as you laugh loudly. there’s ones of you gazing at him adoringly, your love for him seeping out of the picture. there’s others of him looking at you — a soft fondness in his eyes, an even softer smile gracing his lips, his affectionate gaze tuning out anyone and anything else that isn’t you. both framed and pinned to the wall are multiple candids you two took of one another when the other wasn’t looking or paying attention, bursts of love immortalized in random moments of time.

you tell yourself that the sniffle you do is just because of the dust.

clearing your throat slightly, you look around proudly. you’re done!

you spray each room with a cotton spray, inhaling the fresh linen scent happily. you light up a teakwood candle that suguru bought a few weeks ago in the living room and put a sandalwood diffuser in the bathroom, freshening up the place. you take a well-deserved shower, feeling properly clean and accomplished.

by the time you’re done, it’s around 5:30 P.M in the evening and satoru texts you that they’re on their way and will be back home in approximately 30 minutes.

you get a can of sprite, his preferred soda, out from the fridge and put it on the counter. you decide to place an order for takeout from suguru’s favorite local spot, one that sells cold zaru soba noodles, his favorite food. you place another order at his favorite bakery for matcha crepes, his most loved dessert. the zaru soba will come within an hour and a half, but the dessert will come sooner so you also order a flower delivery too — a cute little surprise which will come within the same amount of time as the crepes.

you figure that you’ll also do the same for satoru, a little thank-you present for when he comes back to his own apartment. you order a bouquet of narcissus & holly for him, internally hoping that he likes it. you also order all of his favorite desserts from his favorite bakery! knowing that he will happily fill himself up on raspberry macarons, strawberry cake, vanilla mochi, chocolate donuts, & zunda cream kikufuku to his heart’s desire.

walking back into the bathroom, you get the most important part of your night started.

suguru finds his heart a bit lighter when he comes back to your shared home. he didn’t want to admit it to satoru… but he actually had a fun time eating, shopping, and listening to his hilarious stories about his shitty business trip. he’d be lying though if he said that he wasn’t most excited to see you after a long, eventful day.

in his hand are a bunch of shopping bags from stores that satoru dragged him to — clothes from your favorite stores, accessories & bags that you most wear, shoes that you need, books & knick knacks that you like — all for you. he bought a few for himself of course, but he mainly wanted to spoil you. he can’t help the small smile that creeps up on his face when he thinks about how excited you’ll be to see the gifts he got you.

thinking back on it, the guilt and shame he felt in his heart when you first saw him earlier today ate him up. he didn’t even know why he was feeling the way he was feeling so strongly. it was coincidence that it coincided with your trip, and he made sure that he would sound fun and happy over text as to not worry you. it wasn’t until a few days from when you were actually set to arrive that he didn’t even have the energy to talk or text you.

hell, he didn’t even have the energy to keep the apartment tidy or keep himself in check either. another pang of guilt hits him like a freight truck. he concludes that he’ll give you a spa day so he can clean everything up, not wanting you to worry about the mess he made.

he knows from the bottom of his heart that you’d never judge him or make him feel small for feeling the way he felt, he just feels so bad that he couldn’t even muster up the energy to greet you the way you deserved to be greeted. to kiss you. to hug you. to have a delicious dinner together and snuggle with you.

but no. after a long trip you had to come home and be worried for him. have the apartment be in disarray, have to see him be in disarray. fuck, you were worried enough to call up satoru.

he swears to himself that he’s gonna make it up to you. he swears that–

oh?

what?

suguru’s eyes widen, hands weakly dropping his shopping bags on the floor.

the entire apartment, top to bottom, is spotless.

dishes done and put away. dining table clean. living room tidy. is that… a bouquet of daffodils, his birth flower, on the counter? he also sees the bag from his favorite bakery right next to it too…

he walks around, astonished, at how you’ve made the apartment look brand new.

he reaches the bedroom and sees that the bed is made. his clothes have been clean, dried, and put up in hangers inside his closet. the nightstand, dresser, and bookcase all spotless and wiped free of dust.

a fresh smell envelopes his sinuses. he swallows the lump in his throat. did you smell the single cigarette he smoked? it seems like you aired out the whole apartment. in front of him is a beautiful sunset that waves at him from outside. a sunray beam kisses his cheeks. suguru blinks and feels something wet trailing down his face… it tastes salty on his lips. but feels so warm and sweet.

“suguru?” your angelic voice calls to him.

he turns around and sees you. fresh and clean, a beacon of warmth and illumination. a light blush dusting your cheeks no doubt from all of the hard work you’ve done.

“i ran you a bath. you up for it?” you tilt your head cutely at him, a silent plea in your eyes for him to agree.

feeling like his voice will betray him if he speaks, he nods softly. grabbing his hand, you take him to your shared bathroom, also totally spotless. your hands are soft and small in his, warm for once, because of you taking a hot shower and checking the temperature of the water for suguru’s bath. a sandalwood scent envelopes his nose, no doubt from the diffuser you put inside. he sees the romantic candles and rose petals around the bathtub and he can’t help the smile that overtakes his face.

“for me?” he rasps, a teasing tilt to his voice.

“always. everything and anything i do will always be for you.” you say it seriously. genuinely.

to you, it’s a vow. an oath.

his eyes widen slightly, but he closes them momentarily, not wanting any more tears to spill. he crinkles his eyes and smiles at you softly.

“you joining me?” he undresses, taking off his sweatshirt and t-shirt. showcasing his tan skin, toned abs, & muscles. his nipple piercings & belly button piercing are on full display and he giggles lightly as you ogle at his body, watching your eyes trace his numerous tattoos & piercings, absolutely mesmerized.

“maybe next time,” you smirk, a playful twinkle in your eyes. “figured i could do a little pamper session, is that alright with you?” you ask him caringly, wanting to make sure that he’s comfortable with it first & foremost.

he fears that if he speaks any louder than a whisper, the love that overcomes him will drown his airways. he rasps out a small, “yeah.”

always. anything and everything you do will always be right for me.

he gets into the bath and you try to not let your eyes trail down, instead focusing your gaze on his dragon tattoo that encompasses his entire back along with the mythological japanese creatures that trail up his arms and ribcage like tapestry. you see one of your favorites, a black and white beta fish upon his ribs, submerged underneath the water he’s in.

from this angle, you can also see your name that he tattooed behind his ear. smiling to yourself, you sit behind him, ready to begin the pamper session.

his sloshes the rose petals around with his fingers. the water is warm, is his first thought. i wish you were in here with me, is his second.

your fingers stroke his hair softly, lulling him into a false sense of security, and then you get to work, vigorously rubbing in his lavender shampoo. he can’t help the laugh that escapes him. for some reason anytime you two would take baths or take showers together, you would always wash his scalp aggressively. “this is how i wash my hair sugu! what’s a little run through gonna do? we gotta keep clean!” did clean mean damn near ripping out his hair follicles? possibly.

he’d never stop you or scold you however, he thinks it’s hilarious and an endearing trait of yours. when he washes your hair he makes sure to be as soft and careful as possible, almost lulling you to sleep. when you wash his hair however, it’s like you’re turbowashing a pickup truck. he figures this time he’ll give you a pass (he always does) considering that he doesn’t think he’s washed his hair in around a week and a half.

“gonna rinse now, okay?” he hums quietly, closing his eyes.

this almost feels like a purification process to him.

you lather shampoo in his hair once again wanting to do a double cleanse, this time a bit more softly. you massage his scalp, and he tips his head back. you start from the crown of his head, working in circular motions, using your fingertips. then you go to the roots of his hair, pressing and lathering, pressing and lathering, pressing and lathering.

you push his head forward slightly so you can clean the back of his head too, massaging the pressure points in his scalp. you were always a good masseuse, therefore a deep sigh escapes him, tension leaving his body by the second. (this might be the first time in two weeks where he’s been able to breathe comfortably.) you run your fingers throughout the clean strands of his hair, humming a little tune to yourself.

“they called me.” your hands still for second, but resume back to carefully twisting the water out his silky black hair. you stay quiet, knowing that when suguru speaks he prefers to get it all out there first.

“must’ve been like, what, two days after you left?” a humorless laugh escapes him. “they always know when to fuck up my mood. i swear.”

he sighs tiredly. “they went on a whole spiel about how i need to come back home and find a ‘real job’ as a hotshot lawyer or some fancy businessman, as if i don’t run my own tattoo parlor. as if i’m not also a real fucking businessman. like, do they think i don’t make any money? that i can’t comfortably take care of us both?” he rolls his eyes, getting annoyed again just thinking about how long the same repeated conversation had gone on.

suguru’s family is relatively well-off. he’s genuinely thankful that both him & satoru never had to worry about how to put food on the table or be worried about not being able to spoil the people that they loved.

it’s just that his parents were angry that their picture-perfect little boy wanted to spread his wings… see a world that had more to offer than quiet dinner table meals filled with tension and pointed jabs at one another guised as “caring advice.”

their image of suguru started to get distorted when he first showed up on their doorstep with his gauges. an act of rebellion. he could’ve worn small simple diamond studs but he wanted to make an impression: i’m my own person. even as a 13 year old boy, i can make this decision on my own. he remembers the way his father said he looked foolish. how his mother held her hand over her heart, in shock that her little baby boy had tainted himself in such a manner. what would others say?

suguru remembers looking in the mirror after the whole fiasco & thinking: god… they’d say i look so fucking cool.

then it started with sneaking out to go on late night drives with satoru, shoko, nanami, & haibara. they’d jam out to random songs on the radio, get slurpees & snacks, and sit in satoru’s car just talking about life and their future for hours. suguru still remembers the way his bangs wisped across his face, the crisp night air purifying his soul, the stars in the sky illuminating the landscape. the world seemed bigger those days and the gang were enjoying their teenage years. enjoying their youth.

he remembers coming home, his father waiting for him on the couch, pointing to the seat next to him, forcing suguru to sit down. his father’s arms crossed, black turtleneck making his muscles bulge slightly out of his sweater, his specs on the bridge of his nose making him look so serious. suguru found it easy to make eye contact with everyone in the world, but with his father he couldn’t help but look away sometimes… so he redirected his gaze to the tiny delicate beauty mark near his fathers right eye. a small little thing that made his father look a bit more… prettier. nicer. less daunting.

“where were you?” the timbre of his father’s voice rattled his bones. he muttered those three words quietly, but it still shattered suguru’s eardrums regardless.

“out. with my friends.”

he scoffs. “some friends they are.” a deep resounding ring of utter disappointment comes from his father’s words.

suguru sneers at the man, pissed that he would even think to disrespect suguru’s choice of friends like that. “yeah, they’re the best.” not an ounce of sarcasm lacing his words. his own mood dampened, nevertheless.

he recalls stomping all the way upstairs and slamming the door with all his might. sitting on his bed and resting his head against the window pane, eyes looking up at the same stars he saw when hanging out with his friends.

the stars seemed so far away from suguru’s room.

the world looked so big. suguru felt so small.

then one day, months later, suguru kissed a pretty boy. he can’t quite remember his name anymore, just that his lips were soft and his eyes were kind. suguru’s parents found out. his dad was surprisingly fine with it… he just assumed it was a phase, he went through the same thing as his son did when he was his age. his mother however… she just acted like it never happened the next morning. as if it wasn’t just a part of who he is.

his parents thought he was rebelling for the sake of rebellion. in actuality, it was suguru’s true self coming out. he was just getting more comfortable in his own skin. he was tired of being the picture perfect beauty who always was demanded of being polite, poised, & graceful. it was always too easy for him to put on a fake smile and manipulate others into doing what he wanted for the sake of his family’s reputation, it’s what he was taught. being at that house, it felt like he was kept on a tight leash, restricted from living his life. he felt caged like a bird…

but he just wanted to be free.

all he wanted was to just truly be himself in this world.

a kiss against his scalp breaks him out of his reverie.

right… he was here with you. he doesn’t have to spiral or worry anymore. you’re here. with him.

you’re here, you’re here, you’re here.

he shudders softly, taking your hand, holding it tight within his grasp. anger laces his next words, “they also said it’s time i get into a ‘real relationship’. whatever the fuck that means.”

you giggle. you know that his parents aren’t too fond of you. you’re not exactly of the same… class or status as them. at least that’s what suguru’s mother told him.

he huffs out a single dry laugh, “i’m glad you’re giggling about it because i nearly popped a fucking blood vessel screaming into my phone when they said that shit.”

“my protector.” you coo to him.

a light blush tinges his cheeks. always.

he presses a kiss against your palm. “i think it just made me… spiral a bit, y’know? reminded me of when i was kid and they made every little decision for me. i mean i’m a fucking adult now — i can decide what i do, who i wanna be, and who i want to be with.”

so when he got that phone-call from them on that day he was supposed to go to some rock concert… he did the one thing he promised himself he’d never do again. he lit a cigarette, and cried his eyes out into his pillow.

while sobbing, he remembered when he was in his early twenties and he’d sleep around with anyone and everyone, smoke blunts & cigarettes, go bar-hopping… do everything the picture-perfect pretty boy would never be allowed to do under his parents roof. his family just made him so miserable that he would do anything to not think of them.

he heard your voice in his head, reminding him, that instead of continuing on that self-destructive streak, he got his shit together. art & drawing was always his safe haven, so he found himself an apprenticeship at a tattoo parlor, getting a job as a piercer and ultimately working his way up to being a tattooist. he owns his own place now — all his hard work & effort paid off.

his mind travels back to you. his true love.

ever since the moment he met you, he was mesmerized by your beauty, your personality, and your loving words & actions.

suguru’s heart and sobs only calmed down when he thought of you. his beloved. his angel. his reason to be. he hugged your pillow a bit tighter that night, imagining it was you.

“i’m proud of you, you know.” you say it so genuinely that it tugs on his heartstrings, making his heart skip a beat.

“you’ve been through a lot of shit with your parents, but at the end of the day, you chose to follow what your heart desired — not whatever they wanted. you’re successful in what you do and you made the right decision. it doesn’t matter what the hell they say, because they don’t know the effort and time it took you to get where you are.” you say it so passionately, that suguru believes every word that comes out of your mouth. his heart racing, thankful that somebody fucking understands him.

“you’re kind. you’re caring. you’re so unbelievably loving. you’re always looking out for others and helping anyone that needs it… you’re a good fucking person, suguru. i hope you know that and realize that. it doesn’t matter what anyone else says, you are good. what you do is good. who you are is good. it’s an honor to be able to love you and be with you. i hope you know that.”

for the first time in a while, suguru turns around and really looks at you. the way you bare your soul to him so effortlessly, the way you smile so sweetly at him, the way you make him feel like he’s your one true love.

“i’m so thankful for you. i love you… and i want to be with you, too. always.” his voice breaks a little, overcome with emotion.

suguru hugs you tightly, neither of you caring about the wetness on your clothes. suguru puts his entire spectrum of feelings towards you into the hug — an apology, a thank you, and a proclamation of love.

voice a bit shaky, he laughs, “sorry for getting you all wet. i know how much you hate drenched clothes.”

“you apologizing for getting me wet? now that’s a first.” you purr playfully, glad to see him in better spirits.

a loud laugh bellows out from suguru, deep within his gut. he kisses your lips preciously, and sits back down in the water, urging you to continue.

the mood now is far lighter. the air thick with a sweet steam.

you rinse his hair and gently put his lavender conditioner through his hair. massaging it in, running your fingers through his silky smooth strands. you put his hair up in a clip for a few minutes to let the product soak in. he washes it out himself while you start the shower, making sure you put in his favorite honey-almond bodywash. he gives you a silly yet oddly sultry show when he lathers himself and he promptly comes out, steaming and refreshed. you help him do his skincare routine, softly rubbing each and every product into his skin. he towels off and sits down, hairbrush in his hand, looking at you.

“here, let’s do this first.” you blow dry his hair, taking your time and allowing suguru to lull his head back onto your front, the soft black tresses of your beloved’s hair feeling much more revitalized in your fingers. you then brush his hair, gently, carefully. the entire time, you notice that suguru’s eyes are closed and he’s smiling to himself. you kiss him on the top of his head, and he turns to kiss you back. eyes closed, his lips puckered…

but just then, the doorbell rings.

“OOH! perfect timing!” you scurry off. you leave a pouting suguru who huffs out a little “hmph.” annoyed that whoever was at the door took a very well-deserved kiss away from him.

he patters softly to the kitchen where you’re setting out cold zaru soba noodles for him along with a can of sprite and matcha crepes. all of his favorites.

you hold a bouquet of flowers. daffodils.

“for you.” you curtsy, a mirthful twinkle in your eyes. he graciously accepts them from you, a shy smile and light flush across his cheeks.

“thank you.”

kissing his knuckles you whisper, “anything for you.”

for once in his whole entire life, suguru doesn’t think he can bear to look you in the eye. your adoration is so unbelievably intense, it feels like it’ll burn a hole inside his heart. does he deserve so much goodness in his life?

“you deserve more than what i can give you. i’ll spend my whole life making sure you realize that, suguru.” you say to him honestly. “if you’ll allow me of course.”

he kisses you on the lips softly, hoping that you can feel how thankful and lucky he is that he has you. “likewise.”

he clears his throat. “okay, c’mon. i’m starving. i wanna watch that stupid anime and shit talk that hot guy you like on screen while we snuggle.”

“he’s the best character, suguru!” you huff indignantly. clearly he can’t be talking about thee toji fushiguro???

“babe. he SUCKS.”

he knows you so well, he muses to himself.

he knows how your breath hitches after he nuzzles his lips against the curve of your neck, that the skin is sensitive there, but not as sensitive as your right ear. he knows that because of the way your knees buckle as he whispers soft romances to you, intense shivers overtaking your body. he makes sure that his arm is always wrapped tender yet firmly around your waist when that happens, trapping you against his unyielding body.

he knows what makes you tick. on the rare occasion that you allow your emotions to overcome you, he knows how to comfort you. he leaves you alone for a few moments so you’re able to gather your thoughts & assess your bearings, and then he invites you into his warm embrace. he lets you lay your head in his lap as he strokes your hair gingerly, easing your soul with both honest and kind words. adorning your face with soft kisses and even softer caresses. a cocoon of protection.

it seems like these days, however, he hasn’t had a proper grasp on you. you can’t hide a single thing from him, he knows that you would never willingly do so either.

it’s not like you want to anyways — not that you intend to, at least.

but it’s an aching feeling in his chest, nonetheless.

earlier in the week, you’d softly shut your bedroom door whenever you saw him, pretending as if you couldn’t see each other… as if he wasn’t there. it’s moments where he found you haphazardly digging for shit in your drawers, tucking whatever it was into your pockets and padding away softly to your room. you’d stay in there for hours, only coming out when he knocked on your door to tell you dinner was ready. he heard lots of rustling and you pretended as if you were just chilling in there, as if nothing was going on. sometimes when he knocked on your door to see what you were up to, all he heard back was an “i’m busy, baby! i’ll be out soon!” then it became even more odd, you’d quickly shut off your phone whenever he came into the room and would plaster a bright smile at him as if nothing was out of the ordinary.

he sighs to himself. he trusts you. he loves you. he knows you’re not doing anything heinous.

but… why won’t you tell him what’s bothering you? don’t you trust him to fix whatever is wrong? it eats away at his mind & soul that you think you have to hide whatever it is that’s taking you from him. don’t you know that he’d drop anything for you? that’s what being in love is for, right?

his eyes peer at you from the couch, studying you. he calls out to you softly, “angel. can we talk, please?”

a statement posed as a question. he knows this. you know this. you answer regardless.

“sure.”

you walk towards him, intentionally adding a lackadaisical swagger to your steps. to fool him. you know it won’t, he knows it won’t. but suguru isn’t anything if a man who doesn’t indulge his beloved.

he pats the seat next to him on the couch. inviting. as if he’s giving you a choice, even though you know you have none at the moment. “sit next to me, my love.” his smile is taut like a string, amber eyes shut closed so you don’t bear witness to the tears that threaten to spill.

he knows you’re hiding something.

he doesn’t like not being in the know.

is it something he did?

is it something you did but are too afraid to tell him?

since when were you afraid of him?

were you always–?

in the few seconds it takes you to sit down, a myriad of questions race through suguru’s head, creating a spiral of untamable negative thoughts. you would talk to him if something was wrong, right? you both have a healthy communication and always talk things over with each other… so what’s different now? do you not trust him?

suguru chastises himself, thoroughly.

of course you wouldn’t want to speak to someone like him.

always the overthinker. always the nagging negative nancy. always the manic-depressive.

sometimes suguru fears that he acts more like a father to you rather than a boyfriend.

that he’s a bit suffocating. too intense. very overbearing.

a warm hand engulfs both of your small, cold ones. he hopes that it comes off as sweet, as caring. because he himself is sweet and caring.

at least he hopes he comes off like that.

“is everything alright, sweetheart?” a soft whisper. he speaks placatingly to you like you’re a newborn fawn and any loud noises or large movements will make you jolt and run away. “i feel like… you’ve been avoiding me recently. and…” he takes a deep breath. “listen, i don’t know if it’s something i did, but you need to tell me, okay? you have to tell me so i can make it better.”

he thinks he sounds nurturing. kind. paternal.

he also thinks he sounds so fucking condescending.

he closes his eyes and a picture of a man darts across his eyelids like an overdeveloped photo.

strict, heavy-handed, cutthroat.

paternal and protective to a fault. a man who was always “right” even when he was wrong.

an “apathetic” man who bore a child who thought too much – felt too much.

a flash of a sophisticatedly handsome man with obsidian shoulder length hair, serious low-lidded eyes, and a firm closed mouth sears itself across suguru’s brain like a charred photograph.

he flings away the afterimage as quickly as it came. pretending as if he never even thought of it.

he gulps, swallowing the fireball in his throat. god, he really doesn’t want to be like… him. having a majority of his features is enough, he does not want to inherit that man’s personality.

suguru absentmindedly rubs the slit in his eyebrow, his grip unintentionally tightening on your hands. he releases moments after, not wanting to cause you any pain.

“everything is fine with me sugu, i promise you.” you reassure him. “it wasn’t my intention to avoid you or make you feel like you did anything wrong… i am so sorry if it came off like that.” you answer him honestly. your head is tilted to the side like a little puppy, brows furrowed, upset that you made him feel like you were trying to get away from him.

“no, no no no no no, baby it’s not your fault.” he quickly grabs your cheeks, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. he brings you against his chest, hugging you tightly. “don’t apologize honey, i’m sorry… i just got into my head a bit.” he quickly placates you and kisses the top of your head. you shouldn’t be the one to suffer because he started to anxiously overthink and spiral.

he looks at the time on his watch. it’s a few minutes past midnight. you both should go to sleep… maybe you can talk it over in bed or in the morning with clear heads.

you exhale softly, shaking your head faintly. you press a delicate kiss against the corner of his lips. telling him, “give me a sec.”, you walk over and into your room.

he nods and watches you saunter away, putting his head into his hands. god… him and his big mouth… he sighs, anxiety crawling up his throat once more. he really didn’t want to upset you or anything, he angrily tells himself to apologize to you when you get back.

hearing you shuffle closer to him, he lifts his head.

in your hands is a… huge book?

“i wanted to give you this tomorrow… well technically today, but i guess it doesn’t really matter.”

he tilts his head, confused. you present him with the thing you’ve been working so hard on.

you smile at him so softly, he thinks that his heart is about to burst. “happy birthday, suguru.”

birthday…? oh god, it is his birthday.

he gently takes the present from you… it’s a scrapbook.

“don’t look at it in front of me! okay, bye!” you quickly sprint into your room, not wanting to be in the room when suguru looks at such a personalized present.

blinking, he grabs his reading glasses from the coffee table, and opens the book, flipping through each page carefully.

photobooth pictures, polaroids, kodak film pictures, movie tickets from your dates, admission tickets from amusement parks he’s taken you to, and multiple candids of both him and you - many of which he hasn’t seen.

one of them looks awfully familiar… did you take this the day you took him stargazing in the meadow? his fingers brush against his trembling lips, trying to stop himself from sobbing.

is this what you were doing?

he feels so stupid.

but god… does he feel so fucking loved.

you’ve immortalized every single moment of your relationship with him. nothing being too small for you to be excited about, carefully keeping everything.

he sees the little pressed flower of a daffodil enclosed in wax paper on one of the pages, probably from the first time you gave him a bouquet. the first time anyone has presented him with flowers without wanting anything in return. when asked about the occasion, you simply shrugged and said “just felt like it” & then quickly kissed his knuckles, zooming out of his apartment to run errands. he remembers how bashful he felt. how thankful he was. how loved that experience made him feel.

he moves his glasses upwards, wiping the tears across his lashline and the ones that stream down his face. he clears his throat slightly, and continues flipping the pages. you’ve drawn little doodles (things that he’s already planning to get tattooed on him simply because they came from you) and you’ve written beautiful, personal messages. encapsulating your adoration for suguru in the margins — genuine words filled with your love, devotion, and admiration for him.

he sniffs loudly and tries to wipe his face the best he can. he tenderly calls out your name, beckoning you over to him, and you get up out of your shared bedroom to pad softly into his open arms.

“my love.” he stands up and walks over to you midway. he hugs you so tightly while pressing your head against his beating heart, his arms protectively enveloping you. the space between you two is nonexistent, and suguru surmises that he wouldn’t have it any other way.

conveying his thankfulness and love to you, he sweetly says, “my sweet, sweet girl.” a soft kiss pressed against your hair, “my heart beats for you, forever and always.” from anyone else it’d sound cheesy, but from suguru… you know he means it from the depths of his soul.

“my little dove.” he coos so fondly, sweet candied sugar dripping from every syllable. he holds your face in his gentle hands, openly divulging his admiration for you, “you’re so precious to me, you know that? i love you. i love you. i love you.” a tender kiss pressed against your soft lips between each proclamation of adoration.

you smile graciously, thankful and relieved that he adores your present and that he especially adores you. you knew out of any of your presents that you were going to give him today, that this would be the most meaningful. suguru has always been the ultimate sentimentalist, and you wanted him to know that you care for him so deeply. that you love him. adore him. that your heart beats only for him. pushing back a black tendril of your true love’s hair behind his ear, you kiss him gently. both of your lips fitting together perfectly — like a lock & key.

you bring his knuckles upon your lips, preciously kissing his promise ring, ensuring to him that your love and devotion runs deep, deeper than anything in this world.

“i love you too. happy birthday, my love.” his hands are so gentle. his face is so sweet. suguru… your one true love.

if you asked suguru to describe you in three words, he’d say you were: devoted. loyal. loving.

he has four more of his own on the tip of his tongue that he’ll ask to you when he musters up the courage.

with a soft kiss upon the ring on your knuckles, and an even softer smile upon his lips, he lovingly breathes out, “私はあなたを永遠に愛します”

#geto suguru x reader #getou suguru x reader #geto x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #belated b-day fic for my beloved ON valentine’s day… i’m a lover to my CORE. never think otherwise #if you listen to the song there are some callbacks to the lyrics in this fic itself :’) if you read this thank you & i hope you enjoy! :D #i edited the geto pic myself are you proud :3 fixed his hair + made it clear + spruced up the coloring <3 anything for MY man #my writings #personal

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astarioffsimpmain · 3 months

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Unsolicited Affections (Part 1)

[Screenshots and Tav, Ban, by the lovely @brabblesblog]

Halsin x Plus Size F!Reader

Warnings: Body insecurity; internalized fatphobia; otherwise, floof (for now)

Synopsis: Your growing feelings for Halsin can no longer be ignored. Even so, that doesn't mean you don't try for your poor heart's sake. However, Halsin keeps bringing you closer, and you aren't sure how much longer you can take it without confessing... even though confessing is your worst fear.

Author's Note: Thank you so much to @brabblesblog for taking these screenshots and allowing me to use Ban in the header! For all readers, there will be a Part 2 to this fic and it will be the smut you all requested from the poll I took! This became a super duper indulgent fic for me, as I struggle with all of the insecurities the reader struggles with here. But I hope this little 2 part creation can act as a balm for anyone who has ever struggled with their bodily image, or wondered if they'd ever be seen as beautiful. This one's for you; for us. <3

Part 2 Here

The battle had been bloody. Grime and viscera was spread across each body, hair color lost in deep dyes of red in the wake of the victory. You and your companions trudged back to camp in silence; exhausted. You had failed to obtain what the battle had been fought for in the first place, and you were certain that your mood was soured for the rest of the evening. Upon reentering your campground, Gale was the first to greet you all, thankful to see that everyone was alive, albeit roughed up; obvious disappointment creased his features for a moment when you told him the news that you had failed to obtain the magical object you had set out for, but he hid it behind an understanding smile and ushered you to sit by the fire as he finished dinner.

You had reasoned that if the Netherese Orb in Gale's chest required the consumption of magic to remain stable, that the more powerful the object, the longer it would sate him. So you had taken a group and set out for the most powerful magical object in your direct vicinity - the Circlet of Blasting. You had recognized it the day previous on the head of a Drow with several of its companions near the Myconid colony in the Underdark. Once you found them again, you approached to inquire whether you could cough up enough gold to take it off their hands, but when they turned and pierced you with vicious red eyes that gleamed back at your group with a reflectiveness like a cat's, you knew gold would not satisfy them. And as they drew their daggers, you were proven correct, and the battle had begun.

You slumped over on the log next to the fire, too exhausted to properly stow your weight, as you removed your armor piece by piece. The second person to approach you carried a warm bowl of stew and placed it gently into your palms. The hands were tender and gentle, and much too large to belong to anyone but your favorite Archdruid. You raised your weary head to meet his beautiful bright green eyes, creased with worry, but soft with care as he lowered himself to the ground beside your legs, his muscular arm grazing the now-bare skin of your thigh as he adjusted. A flutter ran through your stomach at the contact, but you clamped down on it before you could get carried away. You knew his kindness was platonic. It had to be. Halsin was simply…kind.

The tell-tale signs of complicated and painful feelings had risen within your chest since rescuing Halsin from the goblins, and although you had tried to deny them, recently it had proven impossible. But while you finally admitted to yourself that you had fallen for his disarming smile, the scratch of his well-worn fingertips against your softer skin, and how passionately he cared about every living creature in nature, you refused to admit it to anyone else. You would be sparing yourself that embarrassment this time around. Your chest ached, remembering the many times you'd fallen for someone and approached them with this truth, only to be turned away over and over again. Inwardly, you snarled, blaming the extra plush your body carried for your lack of luck in love. Whether the objects of your affection had been kind, polite, or downright rude, there was always a moment in which their eyes would quickly rake your body up and down before delivering their blow. Perhaps they didn't even recognize that they did it, but you saw. You always saw.

So, while you knew Halsin would never be unkind to you, you had been trying to make peace with the very probable fact that he would only ever see you as a friend - never quite attractive enough to be anything more. It was something you were used to, but it never seemed to dull the throbbing pain in your heart whenever you thought on it too long. There was a part of you, somewhere deep, that knew you were not at fault; that knew you were not to blame; that perhaps if they had deigned to look beyond the surface for even a moment, that they would have seen how genuine your heart was, and how they never would have had to go without affection, love, or loyalty should they have chosen you. You weren't without this enlightenment, but the constant dissatisfaction of, or concern for, the body you carried from those around you - from well-meaning friends to pushy strangers - weighed heavy on your tired mind.

This moment around the fire was no exception, your burning desire to curl around Halsin's broad shoulders like a cat and purr was strong, but overshadowed by the fear of rejection. You had him near, but pulling him too close was to risk sending him far away, and you weren't sure you'd be able to stand it were that to occur. An icy shudder ran through you at the mere thought of Halsin retracting his warmth from your side. "- giving you a chill?" His dulcet voice pulled you back to reality like a line reeling you in, but you caught only his last few words.

"What?" You said, blinking as his image in your eyes grew sharper again. "Apologies, my mind was far away."

"No worries." He chuckled. "I merely asked if the night air was giving you a chill. You were shaking, my heart."

My heart.

You melted a little. The nickname was fairly new. The first time he had called you that had been two mornings prior, after a late start and a quick bath in the bioluminescent pools near your campsite in the Underdark. You had come trudging back to camp in clothes that were quickly dampening due to being pressed against your still wet skin, wringing your hair out ferociously as you tried to hurry to catch up with everyone else's progress. You had just started to wrench your boots up over your clinging pants when Halsin had approached you, laying a warm hand against your wet-stained shirt. You had startled, your head snapping up to his in a surprised daze.

"Slow down." He had said, running a soothing hand down your bent spine and back up, sending full bodied shocks through you like tidal waves. "You needn't worry, my heart. We will wait for you."

As the memory warmed your cheeks, you cleared your throat and averted your eyes, praying he couldn't see the thoughts lingering just inside the colors of your irises. "No, I'm alright. Just- just a bit weak from not eating all day. Thank you, for bringing me this." You finally acknowledged the bowl in your hands and raised it a little.

"Of course. Please, eat. I hear from the others that you had a rough skirmish. I implore you to let me check you over once you've finished your stew."

Ignoring the way your heart jumped dangerously near to your throat, you nodded silently, opting instead to pick up the wooden spoon in the bowl and begin to eat. It was one of Halsin's spoons; one he whittled. It was smooth and beautiful and easy to hold. Almost all of the cutlery in camp had been fashioned by Halsin, and several of the stools you kept as well. It was his hobby and his form of relief, to create things with his hands. Subconsciously, you glanced down to where the hands in question rested on his knees; large and rough, his hands had seen it all and done it all through his 300 plus years of life, and you couldn't help but quietly admire how much they had learned and lost in the process. And after all of that, he chose to create beauty with those hands that knew so much. It made your heart clench with a new wave of affection. You swallowed hard, as if the feelings would force their way back down in the same way as the contents of your bowl.

Again, you were drawn back from your reverie by the Druid's movements, one of his hands moving from his lap to yours. His palm came down to rest flat on your thigh, only a thin layer of fabric left to separate the blazing heat from your skin. You barely suppressed a gasp of surprise at the sudden contact, feeling much more intimate than it probably was, and locked eyes with Halsin, whose brow was worried into wrinkles. "You seem more distant than usual, are you sure you're alright?" He said, his thumb taking a slow drag across your leg, sending your poor heart racing in your chest.

"Yes," you managed to respond, rather breathlessly. "I- I'm alright." Even you weren't convinced by your attempt at deflection, and Halsin's frown only deepened.

"When you've finished your stew, come find me by my tent. I will have some healing herbs waiting for you." He said sternly and you nodded silently. His eyes softened at your wide-eyed expression and he reached up to gingerly tuck a stray piece of hair behind your ear. "Promise me you will come." He murmured quietly, his eyes never leaving yours, and your heart stuttered wildly in your chest.

"I promise." You replied, and a soft smile graced his lips. He nodded in return and stood up, brushing himself off before walking back towards his tent.

"Gods," you muttered under your breath, pressing your palm to your chest in an effort to keep your pounding heart inside.

"You've been given the perfect opportunity, darling." A voice chimed lyrically behind you, and you turned your head to find Astarion eyeing you appreciatively. "Don't waste it." He grinned widely, putting his fangs on display as he did so.

"Shut up, Astarion." You mumbled, your face heating as you pressed your hands over your eyes. You only hoped you wouldn't make a fool of yourself.

fin

#baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #halsin silverbough #halsin bg3 #bg3 halsin #halsin #baldur's gate 3 halsin #baldur's gate halsin #halsin x reader #halsin x tav #halsin x f!reader #halsin x f!tav #halsin x plus size reader #halsin x plus size f!reader #unsolicited affections

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ladythornofrivia · 1 month

Text

Lady with Teal Eyes || Aemond x Aunt!Hightower Reader (Part Two)

word count:

author’s note: writing more chapters of a sad dragon family series. I’ll be on a Norwegian cruise line for Italy and Greece for 2 weeks. I’m gonna be seasick, I already know it. So I’ll be writing this series before I leave. Please enjoy and have a good day.

warnings: incest, cockwarming, teasing, sucking, p in v, rough play, flirting, wholesome moment, jealous aemond, possessive, roughness, mild manhandling, mild degradation, unprotected vaginal sex, oral sex, second hand embarrassment, dark content, mentions of su*cide, Aemond being too touchy with his aunt, degradation, humiliation.

summary: Aemond meets his aunt for the first time, and there’s more than meets the eye. (there will be three parts).

The preparations for the celebration of King Viserys has reached closer whilst you accompanied Alicent into the corridor, corridor after corridor of a long tour within the Red Keep. Servants bowed as you all passed. Cold bows and cold eyes lingered, despite their bare minimums of smiling graciously at your direction, as Alicent presented the halls with lavish decor. However, mostly it was green and gold. But others blended it with black and red.

As always, you’re marveled by the exquisite lace and embroidered patterns and a clear structure of its final design of artwork is invigorating. The stitching is what you’re most impressed of.

As all Targaryens and Hightowers strolling, Alicent parted ways with her children, unbeknownst to you, the one-eyed prince had his hands behind his back, violet shade of eye looming over your new gown designed by the seamstress, all soft-shaded periwinkle, strapped with gold embroidery and green and red, streaks of iridescent shun upon sunlight, your manes healthy and glowing, maintained through and through.

You knew he was watching. With his precious one violet eye gleaming at the back of your head, your body shivered in an alien sensation. As for Aemond, a dragon’s hunger is anything but stable or sane. A dragon’s hunger is like a breath of wild fire casted to the torch of the wondrous nature and life itself. The fire eats and leaves the bones of ash, dwindling in midair.

Aegon I altered the history and thus, House Targaryen must stand with unity and strength and blood.

Still parted aways after an idle chat, for Alicent to task with decorations, as her children were long gone, back into your large chambers, you were unpacking your materials for the completion on a quilt, a quilt with colorful dragons and mermaids and ships, various shades of sews and needles unpacked, as the back of your neck tingled with goosebumps as you felt a hot breath stroking.

Before you turned around, large and slender hands travelled over your clothed waist, nearly close to your chest above. A writhe of hot tingle rushing in your coils and chest. A quiet breath strained, lax down to a low hiss, a hiss nearly tickling your skin. No servants were around, no Alicent or Gwayne.

Aemond, a one-eyed prince has lurked and captured you. A princess sent by a Maiden herself. The fiery dragon must seize the princess.

You thought he has gone back to training yard with Ser Criston, as Alicent mentioned once at the entryway within a prolonged conversation.

“Aemond—”

His face inched close to yours, his supple and pretty lips touched your cheeks, trailed down to your jawline, whilst his left hand grasp your face to stay still. The pool between your legs gradually strengthened its warmth and slick, easily for the prince to prance and insert into your tight hole. Under the layers of silk dress, Aemond bunched the layered fabrics to your waist.

You never had a noble taken an interest in you. The only that interests them is the brightness of your teal eyes.

A mesmerizing glow of your hues has yanked his curiosities. His mother never mentioned him about you—not even once in a dubious talk.

Better late than never.

With his hand, fingers strapped, and his trimmed nails clutched the fabric of your corset, the laces loosener it in smooth motion, loosening around your frame, breasts ached as his hand—his cold hand—brushed and pinched your nipple while his other hand found his way your thigh, grasped as Aemond’s tongue flicked and his lips pressed a chaste kiss to your clit.

A moan escaped, your mouth shielded, you face drowned in flush, as Aemond’s heart leapt in satisfaction. Humming, he stood up and inserted his fingers into your cunt, thrusting the fingers in with doubled speed as your moans grew louder, but restrained the pleasure into your chest, holding it. The walls in the Red Keep are dire; servants and nobles and guards walked passed and patrolled through wall and doors. Even the highest nobles strolled by.

“Fuck,” is all he said, as if it was a prayer. “Your cunt might be as Holy as the Maiden herself.”

His lips sucked your swollen tit.

“My prince,” you cried softly. “Please. The guards, my brother and sister will see us.”

“I do not care of their pious thoughts.”

“I’m your aunt, my pri—”

“Don’t fight it, my sweet,” he said, giving a sensual flick on his warm tongue to your swollen flesh, “I might give you a reason to have bruise on you, ones that they’ll never find on your skin.” His hands grasped your waist, trailing with soft strokes. “You’re humiliated. Maybe there’s more than meets the eye.”

Based on his words, you never thought you found it attractive, considering the soft spoken voice, hoarse with arousal.

“Don’t fight it. If you fight against this, this subtle encounter between us, you’ll never forgive yourself,” he whispered, his wet lips brushed yours. “If you have been, you would shoved me away. Would you like that, princess? Shoving me away?”

His voice ragged dampened your cunt and clit twitched at his sound.

“Seems you enjoy it. You’re a good princess. But alas,” he pulled himself afar, the warmth on your body began to turn a chill.

“I shall see you at the feast. Enjoy your stay.” His neck went for a stiff bow, but his eye glued with plea for your consideration of his statement, whether you accept his offer or not, and departed your apartment—a once organized structure is now filled with clutter and oozing sex and the arousal groans you shared has imprinted in your head, you find yourself still with embarrassment.

In a way, a blessing in disguise when no one, not even Gwayne, saw or heard your affairs with a young dragon prince.

You have seen the arrival of Rhaenyra and Daemon and the children, you had a short introduction to all Black faction.

The dinner celebration for Viserys’s nameday celebration has been all but cumbersome. You felt a subtle hostility, but to due your presence, it has lessened but somewhat guarding up—all due to pettiness.

As you, making a progression with your father, it was all but cold distance even you and Otto were near. Not once he looked at you with adoration like he shared his adoration with Princess Helaena, showing her teal beetle. The Green children are all strained; Aegon had his fair share of capable stupidity to throw down a nasty comment of his cousins and nephews.

Daeron was disappointed with Aegon’s perversions, but Daeron veered at you with a kind smile and made a polite conversation with you. Once again, Otto did not acknowledged of your accomplishments. You felt sick in the stomach, and it’s not your bright gold and yellow dress you have finished making. Tears behind your eyes was arising, and your throat budged with hot and parched sting.

Aemond clenched his fist, for his anger was directed at his grandsire for not noticing you. That damnable old fool—if only Otto sees how your talents. When Viserys disregarded Aemond, even his siblings, he wanted nothing more than to see him dead. But alas, with your existence, it’s almost as if Viserys’s existence just naturally died out.

You pardoned yourself, and Alicent thereby dismissed you, you bowed and left to your chambers, spent the rest of the night weeping, thinking what have you done wrong.

As you exited, the tensed feeling withdrew, and Otto was happy again. And so, without a doubt, Aemond gave a good jab on Otto, which caused a disastrous supper for everyone. The music stopped. As for Aegon and Daemon, they found it amusing while Alicent ordered the guards to escort Aemond way back to his chambers.

For Aegon, this was a win for him. He’s not in trouble for once.

~~~

In dreams, you have never seen your mother, what she appears like or what she sounds like or how her personality was. The only thing that is closest to being a mother to you is the wetnurse or the servants or the Septa who provided you with assistance on your daily appearances and wisdom. Whenever a servant brushes your hair, you often think of what it feels like to have a mother brushing your manes with care and doting manner, a soft voice to soothe your aching heart, where doubts and fears would go away.

In times of sleep, you often thinking of ending your life, just to see your biological mother on the other side. Or perhaps more than just seeing your mother. There are times where you hated your life, and you want nothing more but to end it.

People have often told stories of your mother, though it felt it was a grave mistake. Some say she fled away to Free Cities, some said she ended her life from the highest tower of Oldtown and fell down to the sea. There are rumors where Otto took you because you’re adopted, or perhaps he had a secret, illicit affairs.

The cold feeling rushed in you as your eyes pricked with tears. With somebody telling you stories of your late mother, it brought no peace. Only the enigma of your shadowed doubts and an endurance of chaotic insanity, to question whether your life is real, if you’re real in this world with purpose.

The servants have been kind to you more than the nobles, the more everyone pointed out your flaws and the insignificance of your existence, you lead to believe that you’ll never be loved.

And cried once more. Each night, your tears flooded in pillows and blanket, as you embraced the closest object, pretended that it’s your late mother. An endless of an anguish thought has been a hazard.

Only the echoes of the walls could hear you and the pillows has stained, under your hug squeezed the material as hard, wishing for the pain to go away.

In his awake, he’s a perfect prince, but in his dreams, he’s a beast.

A beast kept within a shell of a noble man.

He has dreamt of your teal eyes basking in his dark dreamland, your voice, how it was yearning so much more. A dark dreamland filled with scornful memories of his nephews and Aegon, and the pink dread. He had kill all of them in his dreams, even the fat pig.

With a scolding from his mother, he couldn’t care less. He wanted your presence to be acknowledged by your father, but how can Otto be so cynically dimwitted and more offensively calculating against you?

When the servants spoke over how you’re not related to Alicent, chances are why Otto was pretending that your presence is nothing more than a useless and meaningless substance of meaning to exist.

Others said that they haven’t seen you gone out from your apartments—and that was recent.

Aemond visited you, presented you with a gift, but the word from you not leaving the apartments has concerned. Thus his mind came up an idea.

You have several servants entering the room with stack of your favorite meals and drink—including lemon cakes and Dornish wine.

One knows someone’s best interest. Whoever did it, your heart is elated. As soon as Aemond came in, you hadn’t known whether he knew something that you don’t. Somehow, his intimidating presence softens your heart, prickled in relief.

For some reason, when Alicent paid you a visit, although shortened, she was concerned of your health, you hadn’t formed a proper conversation; Alicent hasted when the Council has called for her summon, but gave her regards.

Aemond accompanied you for a while in your apartments, and chat whatever discussion came up. Each minute and each hour, the two of you became close, became so close that you or him hadn’t open your hearts, despite what he did to you days ago. With your cunt coiled at his face, his voice and neck, his waist, you find yourself crossing your legs, aroused and squirming beside him. You wondered and imagined of Aemond’s tongue guiding and gliding your soaked cunt. At this moment, you wanted tackle him and suffocate him with your legs wrapped around him, taking in of your nectar.

“I’m glad you are doing well, princess,” Aemond said to you. “For I have been concerned of your well-being. A delicate flower such as you does not deserve the cruelty of my grandsire or anyone in the matter of your visit.”

“He’s always been difficult,” you explained. “No matter how much I’ve improved with my skill, he’ll never sees as his or my sister’s equal.”

“In ways my mother and grandsire are more intolerable. Though I respect my mother, I find myself with bore with my grandsire has to say. If anything, I’m glad your presence has casted a light into the dread.”

In Aemond’s case, however, found you as exquisite as gentle as the blooming flower. His one took a longer glimpse at you and notice the difference—how your eyes glinted in glee while your cheeks adorned with youthful flush and enamored smile. Oh so pure and harmless. He hasn’t seen his mother and his siblings. As for Otto, he hasn’t spoke to him since supper at Viserys’s nameday after sending a jab across the face—out of character for a self-assured prince.

Oh, to ruin you.

“Thank you for the meal, Prince Aemond. You don’t know how much I’m relieved to say this,” you said as you finished the embroidery on your unfinished dress you sewn.

Aemond found your gowns just as otherworldly as you.

Consequences won’t matter; Viserys nor anyone else in the room care for his presence. Perhaps it is a blessing, perhaps it is for the best for you to be settled here in King’s Landing, as long you’re in content, nothing else matters, but if harm does come, he shall smite the immoral act. Aemond is no perfect, but with you, he’d be at his best behavior.

“Then I shall relieve you,” he proclaimed.

You find yourself halted at his declaration and glimpsed at his resolved expression.

Something has stirred in your heart that you wanted more than the civil interactions, wanted more than having someone to converse with you.

Tossing and turning onto your bed was all but a doozy. Dizzy from pivoting and switching positions, you had enough. Dreams had come again. This time it’s Aemond calling out to you, feasting on your wet folds and pumping his lithe and graceful rugged fingers in you. Ever since the day before Viserys’s nameday, with Aemond’s thirst, your legs ached.

For a Hightower, it’s a sin to self-pleasure one’s body—a selfish immoral act.

Somehow you found it odd. If a man does self-pleasure, no court would turn the eye, but a woman does self-pleasure with hasting fingers and naughtiness is considered dire.

Faith of the Seven had their own laws, but you knew that men and women had their fair share of illest secrets. Lucky for you, Alicent and everyone in the Red Keep does not know your impure thoughts. The room became hot, then cold, then all at once, the breath in your lips became ragged and desperate. You wanted someone to hold you, treasure you, seduce with sweet nothings and sweet promises with adore.

For your years of not having a partner, you have begun to fear of not having pleasure. In the heating moment, you thought of what’s like losing your maidenhood to someone with a big cock.

You wanted a cock.

His cock.

Oh, a dragon prince. If Aemond hears your thoughts, you’d run away and never to return Westeros and give yourself a new name and fashion.

Damn the consequences and the punishments from the Lord Hand and the Queen themselves! Damn the Faith of the Seven and their laws!

With your fingers circling your clit, no climax arrived. Thus, you casted your blankets aside with a huff, setting out to see him.

Trudging through the dark halls, the guards were nowhere to be found, assuming the guards went elsewhere. As you made your way to the doors, you approached and entered the chambers where you have found Aemond on his bedside.

Your breath held back, taking in at the sight of Aemond. With his porcelain skin and his long silver-blond hair, it gleamed under moonlight, appearing paler compared to daylight. His eye had an old scar, and his eyepatch was placed elsewhere.

Watching his body rising and falling within breath, you approached him and kissed his back, planted your light kisses, feeling the smooth surface of his skin.

Aemond awoke and turned, found you kissing his back.

“My lady,” he whispered, one eye widened, as you stare at his sapphire. It was beautiful like him.

You placed your finger on his lips.

“Have you come to made a decision?” he asked.

Your lashes fluttered under his gaze. “What do you think, my prince?”

Then your lips collided with his. Aemond was taken aback of your sudden act. Eventually, his consciousness fell; with his lips shared an illicit chaste kiss, his hands uncloaked you, and roamed on your womanly body, caressing you, until you began to undo his trousers, his cock hardened.

“This won’t take long,” you promised, slowly pinning him down onto the pillows, unstrapped yourself naked and sat in between his legs. You didn’t expect for his cock to harden.

Your eyes darted to his, awaiting. And thus, you yanked his trousers downward, unveiling his hardened cock. You eyes widened at the sheer size. Your maidenhood hasn’t been taken yet. Your future prospects of marriage hasn’t arrived, but it feels as the more you wait, the more your chances of marriage dimmed. With your body descended, the maidenhood had met his engorged tip.

Aemond lay still, watching you. His sapphire eye gleamed at its victory.

Your voice moaned aloud; your maidenhood slammed down, his engorged cock tightened on your damped walls. Gradually, the pace on your hips sped. You have never felt anything as good. Prayers in the sept are insatiably helpful compare to the prince’s cock.

You have never felt so alive.

Aemond knew you’re a virgin; your hips bounced all thanks to the guidance of his hands.

He pleasured a woman in the brothel in the Street of Silk at the age of three-and-ten. As a young boy, he regretted making a decision by making himself a fool to go along with Aegon and his shenanigans. He was expecting Viserys to guide him gently into the world, but the Driftmark incident has left Aemond concluded that Viserys, his father, did not spare a single kindness or thought and only spared it Rhaenyra and her sons.

All hope was lost until he saw you—a radiant maiden.

You reached your high, as Aemond clutched your hips, spurring down the hot semen bursting the inner walls—a divine conclusion.

Gasping for air, your legs stood achingly, leaving white traces of his semen dripping down on his balls and thighs. When Aemond tried to assisted you, but instead his face met your open legs and slammed your went against his chiseled face and nose.

Fuck my maidenhood, you thought, desperate, as your hips gyrated, feeling his warm tongue and the sharp line of his nose encouraged your arousing sense to further the climax, as your right hand found its way at the back of Aemond’s hair.

Aemond find himself humming against the warmth of your cunt, mingling with his semen. It was a divination, nothing like the brothel. If only his virginity had taken by you instead of a woman who hasn’t live up to her beauty and standards of gentile and grace. Streets of Flea Bottom aren’t to be trusted. His lips kissed your inner thighs, gliding his tongue, and pumped it in between your walls.

Groaning, almost feral-like, your hips paced, your tits bouncing as your walls grew hot again.

“Relieve me,” you said to the prince, hoarse. A soft squeak caught into his ears.

I shall relieve you, my sweet. Just as I promised, he thought.

Your hips gyrated harder, until the spurring had come close; hot liquid squirted on his face as Aemond’s tongue lapped on your cunt faster than last. Your head threw back with his languid strokes on his warm tongue.

Gods it was a miracle.

He has taken your maidenhead.

“Good boy,” you cooed, your breath rasped, your hand still placed on the back of his long silver-blond hair, gyrating your tired hips against his face.

Both you and Aemond found yourselves in elation.

“Good boy.”

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idyllcy · 10 months

Text

sparkling green eyes, dazzling green lines

word count: 8.8k

summary: "Habibti." The words slip past his tongue naturally as he reads the text on your wrist, and you stare up at him, eyes wide, pupils blown, fascination all over your face— you're in love with him.

حبيبتي.

You trace it on your skin each morning, gentle smile on your face, dumb like a lovesick idiot. It reminds you that you're loved, even if you have never met your soulmate, ever, in your life. Even when you didn't know, you had panicked and asked your friends if they knew what it was, in which the next seven hours after your seventh birthday was spent crowded around a computer on your iPad, trying to imitate the foreign language on your skin.

After seven hours, your mother, bless her, had noted it was in Arabic. Your father returned home shortly after, helping you translate the word.

Habibti. It meant beloved in Arabic.

Your young heart swelled as your friends gushed over it.

Beloved. Your soulmate calls you beloved at first meeting.

You had clung onto it, heart full and spinning. You told yourself that your soulmate must be a romantic just from the fact that he would call you his love first meeting. You had dreams of a fairy tale meeting, falling in front of him in the hallway during school, accidentally bumping into him while out, a stranger offering you an umbrella in the rain, the list goes on. Your friends had gotten tired of you after the second week, all of them off to find their own soulmates. You didn't know anything about him.

But the passion for finding your soulmate wears off just as fast as it had arrived, quickly realizing that you wouldn't be able to find him if you were in a town where you knew everyone. No one would call you that upon first meeting. Even if it was halfway across the world, you stopped dreaming about meeting your soulmate after you started college. If you wanted to meet him, you'd have to travel. You don't know where, but wherever you were allowed, you went. Even if it emptied your pockets and left you desperate in the streets, you had some of the best experiences of your life, all in the name of looking for your soulmate.

Even at graduation, when you're throwing your cap into the sky with your friends, wrist out for the world to see, the characters traced and colored in gold thanks to your friends, the green of the letters shimmering, you're thankful for everything you've poured your soul into. Your soulmate was someone you no longer craved, the world at your fingertips, a job in your pocket, your life set out before you. Fate was strong in your hands, another string in your life. You followed it with fervor, spinning and chasing after it with some childish will in your life.

You push everything related to your soulmate mark back when you step foot into Wayne Enterprises, nodding slowly at the three men as they welcome you to the team. You had expected the older boys, but you didn't complain. Not when Bruce Wayne himself was part of the three men.

"These are my two sons. Tim Drake, he's my third," You shake Tim's hand. "And Damian Wayne. My youngest."

You smile at him too, taking his hand.

"Habibti." The words slip past his tongue naturally as he reads the text on your wrist, and you stare up at him, eyes wide, pupils blown, fascination all over your face. Damian raises a brow at the way you react, breath catching in his throat at how enthralled you are with him, features pulled back, eyes sparkling.

"Woah." You manage, a smile breaking onto your face as the words slip past. Damian does not know you. Hell, he's just met you, yet you were staring at him as if he was your world. You had that lovesick look that he had seen on Dick's face way too many times, and he was getting a little uncomfortable. It must be some sick joke. There's no way his soulmate could look at him like that the first time they meet. Yet, as you stare into his eyes, sun sparkling in your eyes, he finds himself breathless. Shit.

Bruce clears his throat behind the two of you.

"Sorry!" You let go of Damian's hand, the loss of contact knocking the air back into his lungs. "Not many people can read my soulmate mark here in the States. I was just surprised."

"So? Is he your soulmate?" Bruce's lip quirks upward.

Damian lies through his teeth. "No. My words are different."

Tim raises a brow behind Bruce, and Damian gives him a warning look.

"Well, regardless," Bruce hums. "You'll be working closely with my two sons for the next couple of weeks. We're very interested in the medical research you conducted while an undergrad in your major, so we'd like to sponsor your research. Your updates would go to my two sons, and I'll meet with you at the end of the month to see if you need more time."

You nod. "An honor, sir."

"The honor is all ours." Tim smiles, shaking your hand.

"Damian will lead you to the lab."

You follow behind his youngest, eyes still wide, trailing behind him like a lovesick puppy. Even if he wasn't your soulmate, he had called you beloved first meeting. You were enthralled. The two of you step into the elevator, and you wait for the door to close before speaking up.

"Are we really not soulmates?" You blink at him.

He shows you his wrist, your words in brown. "We are."

"Oh." You smile at him again. Damian grimaces at how bright you are. The universe sent him a sun because he was grouchy, didn't it?

"This is the lab you'll be using. It is all yours." He hums. "Requests can be sent through the computer, just type it on the notepad."

You nod, glancing around the room, fidgeting.

"What is it?" He raises a brow.

"You're not big on soulmates, are you?" You smile apologetically.

"Not really."

"Alright. Thank you."

Damian is half expecting you to pester him to the moon and back just based on how you looked at him the first time you met. Instead, you spend most of your time holed up in the lab, desperate to replicate results from your previous study. He can't deny that his heart sours a little at how easily you respect his boundaries, but he asked for it himself, so he finds no reason to complain. Huh, he would have to register the soulmate mark with you.

He knocks on the door to your lab, silence answering him. After a couple of minutes, you open the door.

"Sorry, did I make you wait? I had to put everything back." You blink at him.

"We need to register our soulmate bond."

"Ah. Right." You furrow your brows. "When are you available?"

"Tomorrow after work."

"So like... three?"

"Yes."

"Alright. Should I meet you up at the office?"

"I will come down to find you." He glances at the way none of your hair is visible from the cap.

"Alright." You hum. "See you then."

Damian is grasping at anything he can to try and talk to you. He can't believe he's like this, lovesick like some teenager, desperate to talk to you as if you were the only person that mattered in his life. He feels like Dick. It's awful. He loosens his tie as he stands on the elevator, irritation all over his face.

"You look like shit." Tim clicks his tongue.

"Be quiet, Drake." Damian grumbles.

"Registering your soulmate bond?"

"Yeah." He mumbles. "How did your registration go?"

"Smoothly. I told you."

"If only we had met under better circumstances."

"My soulmate didn't stare at me like I was God." Tim shrugs. "Good afternoon, Mr. Strawn."

The man nods.

The two men shut up as Damian steps off at your floor.

"Hey!" You've taken off all the clothes you wear in the lab, dressed for a date. Damian wonders if he's dressed too formal for this. "I brought all my documents. Do you have yours?"

"The city hall has all of my files on hand."

"Forgot, billionaire and all that." You laugh. "Let's get going."

The two of you hitch the next ride down, Damian taking you to his car, opening your door for you, head racing.

"There is always the possibility of us being platonic soulmates." Damian finds himself speaking up as he fastens his seatbelt.

"Yeah." You purse your lips to think. "Would you be alright with that?"

"We are soulmates. The universe obviously has something planned."

"Then what if we're romantic soulmates?"

"Then I suppose we would have to try." Damian pulls out of the parking garage, handing the guard his ticket, driving off. "Are you against it?"

"Oh, definitely not." You smile. "There is no downside for me."

"Not even the public's eye?"

"I've been scrutinized by my family my whole life." You smile. "I blew all my excess scholarship money on travelling because I wanted to meet my soulmate."

"Where did you go?"

"I went to Palestine, Israel, dropped by at Dubai, Egypt, and then my friends and I drove from Istanbul all the way to Western Europe." You count on your fingers. "I had a lot of people greet us first and then notice the writing on my wrist. The emerald green really stands out. I hadn't expected..." Your voice trails off, eyes staring into his, Damian unable to stare back because of the road. "I hadn't expected your eyes to match so nicely. They're breathtaking."

"Do you speak to everyone like this?"

"No." You hum, looking back outside your window. "But I have been told I have a way with words."

"Yeah?" He stops at the red light, turning to stare at your eyes. "I wonder what your eyes look like under the sun."

"Weren't you staring at them a couple days ago?" You pull out your phone.

"That wasn't directly under the sun." He mumbles, starting the car again.

"Do you speak to everyone like this?"

"No." He breathes. "Just to you."

You try to fight the warmth spreading up your neck to your cheeks, failing miserably as you resort to hiding your face in your hand for the rest of the ride.

"Is there any specific thing we need to do?"

"My brothers mentioned that we need our words scanned, but that was it." He hums. "You have your passport and license, correct?"

"Yeah." You hum. "Is that all I need?"

"Yes." He grabs a ticket and drives down to park, the two of you getting out of his car. "Come on." He leads the way, eyes pining down the paparazzi immediately. You glance in the direction he glared, only for him to move to block you from their view. The two of you make it into the building quicker, the elevator door closing behind the two of you.

"That was?"

"Paparazzi." He fishes out his phone, making a call." Yes. May we head up immediately? We will be there."

You blink as he presses the top floor, and for a second, you understand what it's like to live as a billionaire. A single phone call puts you at priority. You shift uncomfortably when the two of you arrive at the top floor, following Damian as he steps into the mayor's room, letting you sit down first.

"Ah, Mr. Wayne." He smiles, and you detect the lack of sincerity on his face immediately. Rather, the fake smile causes you to sit straighter, a smile lacking equal truth making its way onto your face. Damian shakes the mayor's hand, sitting down as well. "What brings you here?"

"Brought my soulmate to get our mark registered." He hums. "You have all my documents, so this should be quick, correct?"

"Of course. We just need both of your words scanned, and then the soulmate's legal documents — You're quite pretty."

You smile at him, laughing lightly. "Thank you. Here's the passport."

"Not a Gotham born, eh?"

"Nope. Moved here for work."

"Do you plan on staying?"

"Well, since my soulmate is here, I don't think moving is that big of a priority right now." You hum.

"May we have your wrist?"

You hold your wrist out, scanner registering the words, and Damian does the same, your words both popping up on the screen.

"What are the characters?"

"Arabic." Your smile turns sweet, bright, even, and the words come tumbling past your lips, like you had been proud to have those as your words your whole life, holding them dear to your heart. Damian's heart stutters in his chest at how enamored you look.

"Was the "woah" first or second?" The mayor turns to ask Damian.

"After. I had read the characters, and the only reaction I was given was "Woah."" Damian hums. "Are we finished?"

"Yes." The mayor laughs. "It's very much a romantic soulmate. Have the two of you..?"

"Not yet." Damian hums, standing up, holding his hand out for you. "Thank you, Mr. Mayor."

"Pleasure's all mine, Mr. Wayne. I hope to see the both of you at the Wayne gala later this year."

Damian leads you back to the elevator, music filling the air as the two of you stand there in silence.

"When would you like our first date to be?" Damian steps to the side, turning to look at you.

"Oh, um." You frown. "I'm not sure. I'd go, but I already submitted my leave for the weekend. My friend and her soulmate are getting married."

Damian raises a brow. "Not here?"

"They're getting married in the Maldives." You laugh awkwardly. "Her soulmate is loaded."

"More than me?" Damian raises a brow playfully.

"Well, loaded in the millionaire way." You smile. "Not billionaire."

"Do you have a date? Should I go with you?"

"Oh." You pause. "I could bring you, huh?" You press your fingers to your lips, pursing them. "I put down a plus one because I was expecting to bring another friend... I suppose it could be you."

"Did you put down a name?"

"No. They do not have a seating chart."

"Mm." He pauses. "is it too fast?"

"No, no!" You smile. "I'll send you the details... via email?" You grimace at how strange it sounds.

"May I have your phone? I can give you my number."

"Yes." You fish it out for him as he hands you his phone. You type your name in, typing habibti under company. You text yourself as he does with himself. The two of you trade phones back, and you send Damian the packing list and details of the wedding immediately. Damian scrolls through the list, pausing.

"Is there a specific invitation I am required to bring?"

"I have both. I will bring them." You smile. "Any other questions?"

The elevator stops at parking, and Damian leads you out. You make a beeline for the car this time, texting your friend to confirm the guest you would be bringing. She asks you if it's your soulmate, and you tell her to check the Gotham Gazette in the morning. She sends you a flurry of texts.

"Will our soulmate bond get leaked?"

"Perhaps by the paparazzi. Why?"

"I'd like for it to be a good photo of me."

"I will let my publicist know."

You check the news the next morning, beaming at how good you look in the photo. Damian looks protective of you, and as you rush to your lab in the morning, your heart is warm. You're glad he has a good eye for that, at the very least. The groupchat explodes with people looking for you, asking if it was true your soulmate was Damian, your friend private texting you to check if your guest was Damian. You only respond to your friend, confirming his attendance. She tells you she expects an expensive gift out of you, and you snort. You joke about relaying her message to Damian.

You tuck everything away as you get back to your experiment.

The end of the day comes quickly, and as you close the lab for the night, you blink when you stare at Damian at the door. You click on your phone, checking to see if you had missed any messages from him, but nothing appears. You raise a brow as you open the door with all of your stuff. "Something wrong, Mr. Wayne?"

"Damian is fine." He nods. "I was wondering what I should bring for your friend's wedding."

"Mm," You frown. "I was going to bring her a nice bottle of wine from one of my travels, but I'm sure you have something much better than that in the winehouse at your place."

"We do. We have a screaming eagle cabernet from the 90s."

"Woah." You blink. "That sounds like a lot. Isn't that like 500k?"

"We have multiple bottles." He insists. "I can bring one."

You grimace. "If you insist."

"It can be our gift. From the both of us."

"The tabloids have already started calling me a gold digger." You laugh.

"My publicist will take care of that. I will have father get you one."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah." He hums. "Where do you live? I can drive you home."

"Um." You give him your address. It takes him a moment to figure out where you live, and then the two of you are off.

"I will send someone for you tomorrow," He hums. "We can take the private jet. I already got your tickets refunded."

"Oh. Wow." You blink at him in awe. "That's really kind. Thank you."

"No worries." He hums. "You should get used to it."

"Do all your brothers spoil their soulmates like that?"

"Grayson, the eldest," Damian grumbles. "worships the ground his soulmate steps on. Todd does the same, though less obvious about it. Drake's known his soulmate forever so the two of them click too well. Duke and his soulmate are platonic soulmates, but the two of them get along far better than we do as a family. Steph and Cass both have not found their soulmates and father..." he pauses. "father and his soulmate are... an interesting two."

"So your family all spoil their soulmates?"

"There is nothing out of reach with the amount of money we have. It is not spoiling if we are simply letting them get whatever they want because it is not a burden on us financially." Damian takes a turn. "We do not consider it spoiling."

"That's sweet." You smile. "How big were their rings?"

"Grayson's soulmate got the biggest diamond in existence. None of us could believe our eyes." Damian hums. "How big of a diamond would you want?"

"I'd like you to hand make a ring for me." You grin. "Of course, if you don't have time, I want something the color of your eyes to match my soulmate mark."

"Why not both?" He stops at the door to your apartment.

"How about you?" You open the door, tilting your head at him.

"Whatever color your eyes are."

You hate how good he is with his words.

Damian drives home, your words in the back of his mind. A handmade ring. Maybe you'd be willing to wear his name on your skin if he makes you a ring with a gem the color of his eye. Though, he'd be rushing. Even if his skin burned to touch you and his heart raced to be held by you, he did not wish to rush it. Messing up with you was far scarier than getting hurt during patrol.

He texts the family chat that he would be using the jet the next day, to which Dick had asked eagerly where he was going. Damian leaves him on read. He finds you at the door in the morning the next day, taking your suitcase from you as you yawn.

"Did you have breakfast yet?"

You blink at him, rubbing your eyes. "No. Do you have food?"

"You can have some of Grayson's cereal."

You blink harder as he hands you a bowl with the cereal and milk, and you stare at the cereal brand.

"Wow. The amount of sugar in this could kill someone."

"Some days I wish it were enough to kill Grayson."

You pour out a little bit of the cereal, pouring the milk in, and then dig in. You read the ingredients as Damian goes upstairs, pulling his own luggage down the stairs, meeting you back in the kitchen when you finish. You clean the dishes, setting them to the side as Damian comes to get you.

"You did not need to wash the dishes."

"I didn't want to leave a mess." You reason.

"It's fine. We're leaving now. You ready?"

"Yeah." You grin. "Is takeoff rough?"

"It's very smooth." He hums. "I gave the pilot the address and everything already. We land in around three hours."

"Alright." You hum.

The jet, plane, was huge. You blink in surprise at the size as Damian leads you up the steps, and you blink quietly. "Woah."

"Surprised?"

"What's the use of having such a large plane? Isn't the carbon footprint huge?"

"We usually fly first class, but I figured since your friends all wanted to see what kind of a person you were dating, I shouldn't be stingy." Damian hums.

"There's really no need." You laugh.

"Also, more privacy." He hums. "I figured you deserve to know what kind of life I live outside of the tabloids."

You tilt your head at him. "Are you going to tell me you're Batman or something?"

The plane door shuts behind him, and he exhales.

"Robin."

Your eyes widen, lips pursing, surprise on your face.

"Is that too much too quick?"

"No." You pause. "No. That's. That's actually kind of hot."

Damian raises a brow.

"Are you still Robin? Because I think—"

"No," Damian shakes his head. "I run around with another name now, already graduated from the title, but I thought I would tell you since."

"Yeah." You exhale. "What about the weekend?"

"Todd and Drake are here. There is no need to fret."

"So your whole family is in on the business?"

"Yes."

"Wow." You mumble. "That's..."

Damian braces himself for the worst. He doesn't know why, your face is far from disgusted or terrified, but he still does. Maybe you would reject him or tell him to stop. That would be a nightmare.

"And you like doing it?"

"Yes." He raises a brow.

"Um, please don't come back to me dead. Ever. Please." You scratch your cheek. "If you like doing it, then I won't stop you. I'd just prefer you don't die on the job."

"Do not worry. If I were to die, my mother would simply drop me into the Lazarus pit." Damian jokes.

"That's some lore drop there." You blink. "That's real?"

"Yes." He raises a brow. "For the same reason my grandfather is immortal, by the same logic, so would I."

"Woah." You mumble. "I heard rumors of it when I was travelling. I didn't know it existed."

"Fountain of youth."

"Is that why you look so good?"

"No." He shakes his head. "I take care of myself."

"I don't doubt that." You smile.

"And you?"

"I told you I travel." You nod. "Oh, it might be good to tell you about the friend getting married."

You tell him details about how the two of you met, telling him about your other friends at the same time, mumbling about how you thought her soulmate was actually an asshole just from the way he treated her friends, and then casually mentioning his name, Damian blinking.

"Do you know him?"

"Drake has done business with his family before."

"His family's a nightmare. The only reason I'm going is because my friend is an angel. I wouldn't go for any other reason."

Damian finds peace in the way your voice floods his senses, gathering intel on your friends, understanding who he had to avoid and who he could make small talk with. He had a feeling he'd know a couple of the people there from the groom's side, and from the way you talked about him, it wouldn't be pleasant if they found out he was your soulmate. Despite that, he finds that there is no need to worry too much. You were close to the bride's side. That's all that seemed to matter to you. You pause at some point, almost as if you were thinking of something.

"Something wrong?"

"We brought the wine, right?"

"Yes. I had the servants bring it."

"Alright." You mumble. "I'm not looking forward to what the groom has to say to me about you."

"I will stay next to you the whole time. My publicist will deal with everything."

"Speaking of which, who is your publicist?"

Damian smiles. "Grayson's soulmate."

"Ahhh." You laugh. That checks out.

There's not much jetlag when the two of you land, and you stare at the afternoon sun through your shades, hand held up. It's nice and warm, a contrast to the spring weather in Gotham. Damian leads you to the car, making a call as he does, handing you the tablet for you to choose which suite to get upgraded to.

"Are we sharing a bed?" You blink at him.

"We can order a room with two beds if you'd like."

"Would that be rude?"

"Not at all."

Damian finds that you've selected a room with a king bed instead, noticing the way your ears were flushed as you stared out the window. He confirms with the hotel on the call, putting the charge on his father's card. He wondered if you would call this spoiling. His brothers had told him that his soulmate deserved the best treatment, and Damian couldn't really tell what they had meant. He never lived a normal life. He wasn't sure if his normal was their best or if there was something better that he could give them. He opts for staring at your face instead, taking in your features.

"The upgrade." He swallows. "It is alright, right?"

"Yes." You smile at him. "It's more than okay. Thank you, a lot."

"The best, for you." He mumbles.

The two of you settle into the hotel room. Damian glances at the clothes you bring, exhaling quietly to himself when he realizes he brought a decent palette of clothes. The wedding's theme was lavender, and he was starting to get worried that he wouldn't be able to match with you at all, but he's happy to find that you've got colors similar to his.

"Do I need to call you anything?"

"It'd be funny if you call me habibti," You grin. "The bride is a friend from when I first got my soulmate mark. She was there when we tried searching up what the word on my wrist meant."

"Ah. You go back a long time."

"A very long time." You smile. "What was it like for you? Seeing your soulmate mark?"

"My family was in my room at midnight, including my mother, and everyone groaned when I got the most generic word ever. They thought I would never find my soulmate. Todd joked that my soulmate must be blown away by my face." He hums in amusement, noticing you avert your gaze. "I still owe him twenty. Dick's soulmate word was "hello" and only Drake had something remotely entertaining."

"What was it? If you don't mind me asking." You blink at him.

"I quote "We should get married." It was quite the sentence." Damian chuckles.

"That sounds funny." Your lips pull up into a smile. "I had a friend get "we should fuck" as their first sentence. Then I found out my best friend at the time had "Yo." as theirs."

"Did you like your first line?"

"I did." You beam at him, unclasping the clip for your suitcase. "I loved it. When my father told me it meant darling or my love in Arabic, I was elated. I thought my soulmate would be the most romantic man in the world, and I was ecstatic."

"Am I?" Damian raises a brow as you pull out a dress.

"Yes." Your smile stretches impossibly wider. "I'm very happy."

"I'm happy to hear that. What's the dress code for tonight?"

"You brought a polo, right? Rich boy, old money vibes. Polo shirt and khakis."

"Got it." He nods. "What color will you be wearing?"

"Everything I brought is some variation of the color palette for the wedding," You hum. "I'll be wearing this."

"I am sure you'll look dashing in it, habibti." He smiles.

You flush at the word, hiding your face in your dress.

"Is it too much?"

"No." You smile at him. "Just enough. I'll get used to it."

Damian wonders what kind of friends you had at seven. Yet, he finds himself blinking in surprise when the two of you arrive at the event.

"Woah, he's an item..." Your friend's jaw drops, patting your shoulders gently. "Damian Wayne? Pleasure to meet you. I'm your soulmate's best friend."

"No, I am." Another friend butts in.

"You're all wrong." The bride scoffs playfully. "I am."

Damian nods at them.

"We'll bring the gift tomorrow at the wedding." You smile at the bride, rushing off with them as Damian heads over to the side, making small talk with who he assumed the groom was. He finds himself with his eyes on you the whole night, only sparing glances at the people he was talking to when you would stare back at him. You look pretty. He understands why his brothers had clicked with their soulmates so quickly now. He excuses himself at some point, pressing his chest to your back, hand resting on your waist.

"Having fun? That's your second margarita, not to mention your cocktails."

You grin at him, cheeks flushed from the alcohol. "It's actually my fourth."

"I think that is enough." He hums. "There's still a dinner."

"I can hold my alcohol." You mumble, and Damian takes the glass from your hand, downing the whole thing in one gulp. You blink at him, wide-eyed. "Woah."

"Let's get you seated, hm? Dinner starts soon. Cocktail hour is for after the dinner."

"Can I bring a drink to our room later?" You mumble.

"Yes." He excuses the two of you from the bride, settling down where your names were put, and he presses a patch into your skin, rubbing your arm as he waits for the neutralizer to course through your system. He probably should have asked if you were okay with it, but he has one on himself, so it's not like he was actively trying to drug you. You turn your head when you notice him rubbing the patch onto your skin, mind clearing a little.

"What is that?"

"Neutralizer. It helps with filtering alcohol."

"Oh, it works." You grin at him. "Thank you."

"Of course. I have one in my arm too."

"That sure explains why you didn't pass out from the sheer glasses of champagne you were having." You mumble.

"Who's at our table?"

"Two other girls and their soulmates. The two girls that were next to the bride and I earlier."

"Alright." He hums, letting his hand fall down to your side, staring at you as you wave your friends over. "Any exes?"

"Nope. I didn't date anyone that didn't greet me with what was on my wrist. It was pretty easy, considering that most people are ignorant. I also kept a bracelet around my wrist for the most part." You smile. "You?"

"Two. Maybe. I do not know if they count. I hooked up with them while..."

"In costume?"

"yeah."

You shrug, starting a conversation with your friend instead, catching up with her. Damian listens briefly, eyes focused on you instead, enamored with you. He's hopeless, he decides. He has no saving grace from you. He doesn't get to make fun of his brothers anymore, not when he was just like them. Your friends take notice of it, smiling when he notices their gaze. You're loved. Just from the way your friends had smiled at him and then at you, you're loved. He understands why. It'd be hard not to love you.

You excuse yourself early, exhaustion from the plane setting in late, Damian helping you up and leading the two of you back. You let the bride know with a hand on her back, and she shoos you away playfully, mumbling about how you should use protection. You sigh dramatically, telling her you'd make her an aunt on purpose. It was a joke from the way you had said it, but Damian wonders if you'd actually want kids of your own — shit, his brain was moving fast. He barely knows you.

"Were you actually tired?"

"Any longer and you would've seen how embarrassing my friends get when drunk." You mumble. "Embarassing bunch."

"How embarrassing?" He raises a brow. "My brothers are a nightmare when drunk as well."

"They won't shut up." You press your keycard on the lock. "About me."

"They love you a lot."

"They do." You turn to smile at Damian. "And I love them too, even if they don't shut up about my embarrassing stories when drunk. They're probably embarrassing the bride instead though."

"That would make more sense."

"They kept trying to get people to read the writing on my wrist last time." You hum. "That was after grad."

"So recently."

"Yeah. No one was able to read it." You laugh. "And the ones who could, they didn't say it to me. They called my friends habibti."

"You do not say it with an accent." Damian notices. "Habibti."

"Huh?" You pause while rummaging for your sleepwear. "Oh, yeah. I... my parents got me an Arabic teacher for a little while because I wanted to learn when I first got my mark. I've also visited... a lot of the countries? In part it's because I'd repeat the word to myself until I feel asleep until like..." You avert your gaze, going back to your suitcase. Damian notices you start flushing. "end of high school?"

"Ten years?" Damian exhales. "You whispered your word to yourself before bed for ten years?"

"Yeah." You finally find your pajamas in the baggage. "A little bit of a hopeless romantic, huh?"

Damian doesn't answer you, staring into your eyes instead, unmoving, barely blinking.

"Is it that bad?"

Damian breaks from his trance. "No. Not at all. It's..." endearing — but he can't say that, so he offers you a nod instead. He curses himself for the lack of game when it came to you, but as you rush to change in the bathroom, he sighs. It's hopeless. He's enamored. He understands why you had stared up at him with your pupils blown wide and lips parted upon first meeting. He does the same now, staring down at you like you were his everything, even if he knew barely anything about you outside of what you had told him. Well, he could always ask Drake to hack and gather intel on you. But it'd be a breach of privacy that he didn't want to cross with you. Ugh.

He pushes his hair back in frustration, opting for clearing his mind with work instead. Even if he had taken the weekend off with you, he should really do something that isn't thinking of all the ways he'd have your skin pressed to his at night — no, fuck. Damian opens his laptop, clicks on his VPN and the wifi, sorting through the emails from the WE teams instead. He barely notices the sound of the bathroom door opening and you step out with your sleepwear on. At some point, Tim texts him to get off his emails and enjoy the time with you, threatening to bench him. Damian grimaces, wondering how he could get benched in a company situation, but he doesn't argue back. He was trying to avoid talking to you, after all.

You're in bed on your phone, scrolling through something.

"What are you looking at?" Damian settles on his side of the bed.

"I'm watching my friend's wedding tiktoks." You smile, rolling over to show him. "The preparation ones. She's going to make more tomorrow."

Damian hums. "Can I put an arm around your waist? My arm..."

"Yeah." You grin. "You can touch me."

Damian's breath catches in his throat at how straightforward you are, arm wrapping around your torso slowly, resting his chin on your head, glancing down at your phone.

"Do you think about weddings?"

You close your phone, plugging it back in on the strand, settling yourself in Damian's arms. "Sometimes."

"What kind do you want?"

"I want your name on my skin at the wedding," You mumble, eyes already closed.

"Like bridal henna?"

"Mhm."

Damian struggles to sleep the whole night because of your words. Though, it's not like he's gone without sleep before. Instead, he spends the night matching his breathing to yours, wrapping his arms tighter around you, taking in the scent of your shampoo. At some point his eyes close, body betraying him and falling to the need. He wakes up to you shifting in his arms, turning around to get a look at his face better, lashes blinking on his skin, eyes staring up at him, sun reflecting in them.

Damian's breath hitches, and in his morning stupor, he rests his forehead on yours, staring into your eyes, nose touching yours, the love of the universe in the way he looks at you. His shoulders relax as he continues looking, sure that his pupils have expanded beyond repair, utterly enamored with how you looked in the morning. His arms squeeze around your waist affectionately, moving to bury his head into the crook of your neck, exhaling as he does.

"Good morning." He feels you smile.

"Good morning to you too, habibti." He mumbles back, smile mirroring yours, he's sure.

The wedding moves without too big of an issue, the two of you bring the wine and leave it at the gift table, Damian sits next to you the whole time, watching as you get the bouquet practically launched at you, catching it with a flinch, chasing after the bride with the bouquet as a weapon, messing up your hair in the meantime but getting a laugh out of it. Damian stands to the side, talking only briefly with the groom's family, introducing himself as your soulmate, not Damian Wayne. He was yours first before he was a businessman now. Yours. It rings nicely in his head. He was yours. He would be fine with that — being yours.

At some point you return to Damian's side, sighing with the bouquet in hand.

"When's our wedding?" You joke, putting the bouquet on the table.

"It'll take a while." Damian hums, smoothing out your hair for you. "We still have to date and get engaged."

"I should've dodged."

"You wouldn't have been able to. Your friend did it on purpose." Damian mumbles, finishing with your hair.

"Is it alright?"

"Yes." He presses his lips to your forehead. "You look great, habibti."

You smile at him, the moon behind you this time.

"When do we fly?"

"I booked the plane for tomorrow." Damian hums. "We can sleep in."

"Oh, bless." You grumble. "The shoes are killing me."

"Would you like mine?" He offers. "Or would you like for me to carry you back?"

You pause, glancing at the emptier hall.

"I wouldn't dare let you take off your shoes for me." You smile at him.

"Sit, please," and you do, settling down as Damian gets on a knee, slipping your heels from your feet, holding onto them with one hand, the other hooking under your knees as he tells you to wrap your arms around his neck. You yelp as he does, and you wave bye to the bride as he settles you in his arms bridal style, your arms around his neck for support as he holds onto your shoes.

"Please don't drop me." You mumble.

"I wouldn't dare." He steps toward the elevator, pressing your floor as you pull the room card out from your pocket. (you had shown him before, with a spin, that your dress had pockets. Damian made a note to remember you liked them.)

He sets you on bed, loosening his tie and placing your heels down by your shoes, taking off his blazer to hang up in the closet. He watches you shimmy out of the dress, naked form to his eyes, breath catching in his throat at the way the moonlight illuminates your skin. He doesn't move, watching as you pull the robe from next to him, body on autopilot as you step into the showers. He'd wash up after you, unbuttoning his shirt and ditching his pants, sorting through his own luggage to find a change of clothes.

You open the door to the bathroom, robe on, blinking at his bare back.

"You're built like a wall." You blurt.

"Am I?" Damian hums.

"Does this come with your family or something? All of you are HUGE." You rub the towel through your hair.

"I suppose it does." Damian stands up, change of clothes in hand. "It's also from the training."

"For night?" You try your best to be vague. Damian appreciates it.

"Yes." He nods. "Would you like to see when we get back?"

"Sure." You grin. "Is it big?"

"It's a cave." Damian closes the door to the bathroom.

"Woah." You mumble. "Wild."

You settle yourself in the bed, back on your phone, yawning as you respond to a couple texts, scrolling through your email, checking the CCTV footage of the experiment you were doing. You had someone checking to see if the experiment was working, and from what they had told you, everything had replicated perfectly. You let out a sigh of relief when you found out. It would be fine. You'd finish with it, and then you'd retire somewhere with the money promised you in the contract. You worked hard for the moment.

You feel the bed dip behind you.

"Looking at the updates?"

"The experiment is moving faster than before." You mumble. "I should be able to report to your father in around a week."

"And then?"

You blink. "Not sure. I was thinking of finding a high rise to live in."

"Not with me?" Damian wraps his arms around you, getting comfortable.

"Don't you still live in the manor?"

"It's comfortable there." He mumbles. "I also have an empty apartment of my own. Would you like to move there?"

"Would you move in with me?" You turn to face him, phone on the nightstand.

"If you'd like."

"Yes, please," You grin. "If you'd like."

"Then I'd love to." He mumbles, reaching over you to close the light.

Damian takes you to the Batcave first, having the servants take your stuff to the apartment without asking you, adjusting the grandfather clock and letting you inside the cave, shutting it behind him. The two of you arrive right before patrol, and you get to meet all of his siblings. All of them. Even Nightwing.

"Who's this?"

"Soulmate." Tim doesn't bother looking at you, pressing his mask on. "Showing her around already? And you call us whipped."

"Shut up, Drake." Damian spits.

"Are you on duty tonight?"

"We take turns." Damian hums.

"Are any of these liquids active?" You stare at the tubes.

"Those two are for Ivy when she attacks. Less these days, but she occasionally strikes us with sex pollen for fun. Those are neutralizers. That one's for Scarecrow's fear toxin, and that one—"

You nod along as Damian explains everything to you, waving at his siblings as they head off for patrol.

"Are you tomorrow?"

"Yes." He hums. "Did you want to come along?"

"That's too dangerous." Batman speaks up, and you pause.

"Mr. Wayne." You smile politely. "Didn't peg you to be the type to run around to try and fix crime."

"Desperate times call for desperate situations." He chuckles. "Damian, take care of her. The computer is off limits."

"Yes, father." Damian nods as he disappears too.

"Who's on patrol tomorrow?"

"Father goes every night, and then tomorrow is Spoiler, Orphan, Signal, and I."

"SOS..." You mumble quietly. "Sors. Ross. Ross."

Damian raises a brow.

"Your names." You smile. "You would be team Ross."

"If that makes you happy." He leads you back up the stairs.

"Do you have an intercom?"

"Oracle. She works every night."

"Is she a sibling?"

"No. She used to be Batgirl."

"mm." You nod slowly. "Oh, it's late, huh? I should probably head home."

"You can stay here for the night. I had the servants send your luggage to my apartment. I can drive the two of us to work tomorrow." Damian shuts the clock behind the two of you.

"You have the same hours as us?"

"Yes."

"Speaking of which, how come you and Tim don't go to work together?"

"Tim does not live in the manor. He lives with his soulmate." He leads you to his room. "This is my room. Make yourself comfortable."

You mumble something under your breath about how big the bed is before you head over to the bathroom to wash up. "Are there pajamas I can borrow?" You peek from the door.

"I'll leave them on the bed." He pulls a shirt and clean boxers from his closet, setting them on the bed, settling at his desk, reading through what he would be meeting about the next day. He had hoped Tim would've taken care of the meetings over the weekend, but he supposes he can't avoid everything. It's painfully boring. The meetings are always boring.

"Whatcha looking at?" You come out with a towel in your hair, maneuvering his shirt onto you, putting on his boxers. It's a size too big, and you have to use a hair tie to keep it in place.

"I have a meeting tomorrow."

You shudder. "I don't miss having meetings."

"Did you intern somewhere else?"

"I interned in England for a bit." You lean over his shoulder, staring at the meeting details. "Oh, on the product."

"Yes, the new birth control we're trying to release. The injection."

"It would be helpful. I can't say blocking hormones is good for the body." You mumble. "Does it work on males?"

"We're releasing both versions."

"That's good." You mumble. "It'd be really helpful."

"Dick's soulmate made us read through the entire list of possible side effects of birth control and scared us half to death." Damian hums. "Even father."

"I read through it once."

"Do you take birth control?"

"Nope. Never slept with anyone, didn't plan on sleeping with people." You shrug. "You?"

Damian pauses. "I haven't either."

"Oh, really?" You mumble. "You've dated before."

"Hooked up." He corrects. "I always felt bad after kissing."

You laugh. "That was the universe telling you no."

"Perhaps." He shrugs. "Let's get to bed."

You barely see Damian after that, the two of you busy with your own affairs in the company, busy with moving your stuff into the apartment outside of work. Damian drives you home and helps you with the boxes, but the two of you don't have substantial conversation. Even when you finish the trials and present everything to the board, Damian doesn't get to have a moment with you, invitations to speak at colleges and other locations flooding into your mail. Damian finally catches you as you finish moving into the apartment.

"Habibti." He breathes, arms wrapping around your shoulders, head resting on your head. "I was looking for you."

"You could've called." You smile at him, voice muffled by his chest.

"You were not answering."

"My bad." You wiggle to loosen his arms, smile on your face. "Bruce transferred the money to my account. I'll be taking a break for a bit before I go speak at all those invitations."

"I am going to retire." He grumbles. "I never get to see you."

"We live together." You grin. "You get to see me every day now."

"Not enough." He mumbles. "I will leave Drake to deal with the family business."

"You're needed, you know? They need you for all the charity you guys do now." You pat his chest gently. "All of the animal shelters you volunteer at too."

"Would you like to visit one with me? There's an event tomorrow at the shelter to bring a friend."

"Oh, so I'm just a friend to you?" You tilt your head at him playfully.

"A friend," He presses a kiss to the corner of your left eye. "Habibti," He presses another kiss to the corner of your right eye. "And my soulmate." He rests his forehead on yours, hands on your face, eyes on your lips. "May I?"

You press your lips to his in response.

You're a work of art. Damian finds himself with an arm around your waist much more than he could have ever thought, his own life mingled with yours to the point of no return. You meant so much to him. You were the world to him. Fingers laced with yours at events, lips pressed to your hair in the rays of the morning sun, there was little to complain about and everything to be grateful for. His own little ray of the sun to make his life a little better.

Which is why he finds himself checking for the quality of the diamond, discussing the price of the gem with the dealer, running it through tests just to make sure it was the best. The emeralds he picks are hand-selected too, calling his mother as she teaches him how to discern between the good ones and bad ones. You were still yet to meet her, but for some reason, she had not asked questions, only wishing him luck on the proposal. It would take a while between everything he had on his hands.

"You've been coming back later these days." You hum, resting your head on his chest.

"My apologies, habibti," He mumbles. "I've been busy."

"Even on the nights you don't patrol?"

"Yes." He mumbles. "I am not cheating, if you are worried."

"I wouldn't think of it." You close your eyes. "I trust you."

"I love you, a lot." He whispers, wrapping his fingers around your ring finger.

"I love you too." You mumble back, curling the finger.

Damian struggles with the first two prototypes, fingers too rough against the metal, groaning as he fails again, the jeweler only laughs affectionately, assuring him he would be fine. He tries again and again until the mold comes out how he wants it to look, the gold chosen so that it wouldn't rust. The chances of you wearing your engagement ring while working were rare, but he still wanted to guarantee that it would not rust quickly. You deserved the world, and he'd make sure of it, even in something as simple as the ring he would give you.

On his seventh try, he gets a mold that leaves him satisfied. He had gotten your ring finger fitted before on top of his nightly routine of wrapping his fingers around it, and he was sure it would fit. The gems arrive cut out perfectly, the green diamond compared to his eyes by Dick and his brothers' soulmates a hundred times, assuring him that the color matched his eyes perfectly. Damian almost got his eyes color matched had it not been Bruce himself stepping in, assuring him that it matched his eyes well. The emeralds would match his eyes in different lighting. He was fine. Only then did Damian let the jeweler settle the diamonds into the ring, making sure that the gems wouldn't just tumble out. Not that he didn't trust the jeweler — he was worried it'd fall out on accident — alright, he doesn't trust the jeweler.

On the day the ring was completed, Damian had checked it under the light, mumbling to himself about how he hoped you like it. He had made it by hand as you told him you wanted him to, and the gems were all hand selected and picked to match his eyes. You'd be happy with it no matter what he gives you as an engagement ring, he's sure, but he had held your words close to his heart. You deserved an engagement ring you had dreamed of as a child. On the inside of the band, habibti is written in Arabic, a reminder of your soulmate bond, his heart full.

"You're home on time for once!" You beam, throwing your arms around his neck.

"I missed you, habibti." He mumbles, arms wrapped around your waist.

"I made dinner for us since you promised you'd be home today." You pull him along.

As he follows you, the ring in his back pocket feels lighter, your fingers curled around his, lips pulled into a dazzling smile.

He's yours.

From the known past to the unpredictable future, he was yours, and he wouldn't have it any other way.

#Bro damian reading shoujo manga was not on my bingo card while looking for headers for him I'm kinda laughing at this #damian wayne x reader #damian al ghul x reader #damian x reader #damian wayne imagines #recently I rediscovered the imagines tag that was kinda fun to know #☾.fics

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biteofcherry · 4 months

Text

Entwined

Leshy!Steve Rogers x female reader; Steve Rogers x female reader

summary: You enter the woods hoping to gain the ancient being's mercy and help. However, you hadn't expected how truly powerful he is, or what price he will ask of you.

*Leshy is a deity of the forests in Slavic mythology. He rules over the forest and hunting.

warnings: sort of monsterfucking (though Leshy isn't exactly a monster, more of an eldritch entity); consensual, with a slight dash of dub-con; tiny bit of manipulation; smut;

Author's Note: This is a story written for Aspen's (@buckets-and-trees) Enchanted Birthday Festival. Early happy birthday, love! ❤️ I've been toying with the idea of Leshy!Steve for a bit and Aspen's challenge was the perfect opportunity to work on it. Especially since she loves forests, plants and all things wild nature 💚 Also a special shout out to @vonalyn who listened to me ramble about the hotness of Leshy!Steve when the idea first came to mind!

“Are you willing to sacrifice?”

His voice echoed with the power of a booming wind, rattling your bones and swishing up your skirts.

The trees surrounding you seemed to grow out their branches, weaving into thick, green walls closing up. Sunlight, just moments ago filtering through the tree crowns, had disappeared; but the dots of luminescent fireflies flickered on, filling the space with a deceptively warm glow.

You looked around, seeking for a path, or entrance through which you might escape, if you chose to. There was none. Within seconds you found yourself trapped in the depths of the ancient forest, with a being whose mercy you came to beg for.

When about an hour ago you stepped into the woods, you were bracing yourself for the sense of being watched, perhaps hunted. You haven’t considered how closely in contact with the powers of nature you’d come.

Your steps never faltered as the soft carpet of juicy grass beneath your feet seemed to grow more resilient the deeper into the woods you went; green straws springing back from being crushed under your shoe. The further you went, however, the dewy emerald grew sparse, shrinking into rich soil scattered with shards of bark, little leaves and pillows of moss.

Rays of sunlight filtered through the branches, casting glowy direction into the sacred altar hidden in the belly of the wilderness. It felt so peaceful, so relaxing, that you’d gladly sink into the shades of green and speckles of gold.

If not for the pounding of your worried heart, which knew that you were searching for more than reprieve.

Had you known what awaited, you’d listen to your heart’s anxious patter and run away.

But you were determined. Though your grandma would probably call it simple stubbornness.

You didn’t enter the woods to forage, nor to roam it to fill your soul with happiness. No, your feet carried you forward to face the greatest of dangers and beg for mercy.

Not only for yourself, but for the village and people who lived in fear, but still refused to abide by the ancient laws. Proud and focused on ways to increase wealth, they forgot there’s more in the world than just gold and war.

Powers mightier than any army. Beings greater and more dangerous than any king.

When wolves ripped to shreds one of the lumberjacks, everyone thought it to be a tragic accident. When two other people disappeared in the woods, never returning, others came up with ideas of them running away. Then a mother was seen screaming as wolves dragged her body into the forest. The child that followed, crying after its mum, disappeared. A day later a small fawn started prancing around the garden by the empty now household.

Still, people refused to bow to the entity that could be behind all of this, or at least held the power to end this madness. Or so you hoped.

Having packed a big wicker basket of offerings - jars of golden honey, cheese wrapped in paper, strings of colorful beads and pearls, folded silk, dried exotic fruit you got from the market - you carried it deep into the woods, to place them on the long forgotten altar where your ancestors paid their respects to the guardian of the forest and nature.

Leshy.

You expected to find the ancient, stone altar, with a deformed statue overgrown with moss. The plan was to lay your offerings there, spend some time bowing down and praying for mercy, then returning to the clueless village.

For a few beats it went like that. The birds still chirped, leaves rustled softly in the wind, your offerings laid motionless on the slab of stone.

Then, suddenly, ivy vines weaved up, covering the stone and your produce in a thick cocoon. The earth rumbled and melted, swallowing the altar whole.

Startled, you took a shaky step back and lost your balance, falling onto your butt. A split of a second when your gaze looked up at the darkening sky and when you returned it forward, he was already standing in front of you.

Whenever you thought of Leshy, no particular image came to mind. You always thought the creature to be an entity beyond human imagination.

He was that, but also… not.

He reminded a human man, but only at first glance.

Much taller, with shoulders broader than the blacksmith’s (whom you always thought to be the biggest man alive). His complexion was fair, but the veins in his arms were jewel green. His hair and beard seemed cast from various shades of gold, intertwined with russet bronze and chestnut reddish. Delicate, tiny vines crawled up his cheeks and along his forehead; like intricate tattoos.

From the thick mane of his silky looking hair sprouted majestic antlers. Thick and sturdy, their dark color with filaments of gold shining through. His eyes, when you met them, were a striking shade of blue-green. Rare and iridescent, like ponds bathed in the light of dawn.

“It’s been a while since a human has come to me.”

The entity’s voice was deep and low, both dangerous and soft, like a purr of a bear or a jungle cat.

“Are you Leshy?” You swallowed nervously.

“I’ve been called that, yes.” When he grinned, amused, the filigree vines on his body glowed luminescent.

“And you are?” He asked, courtly.

When you whispered your name, he leaned forward, bending slightly and outstretching his hand for you to take. As you slipped your shaky fingers into his palm, you felt the pulsing warmth seep through you. It reminded you of the sun-heated earth beneath bare feet.

As he helped you stand up, your gaze drifted up his body. You noticed that while most of his skin looked like any human’s flesh, a stripe along his left calf and thigh seemed textured like bark. A combination of moss and vines formed a fitting coverage around his narrow hips; yet you still caught the sight of a green vein slithering down his chiseled abdomen.

More gold-glowing, floral-like tattoos appeared ingrained into the skin along his ribs. Skin on top of his right shoulder looked to be made of bark, just like on his leg.

As much as he looked unworldly, you also found him majestic.

Beautiful, as nature itself.

“Those who know me, call me Steve.” He said, holding your hand in his and not letting you step away. “It's a shortened and funnily deformed version of Svyatobor.”

Lost in his eerie blue eyes, it took you a longer moment to realize what his name meant.

Breath hitched in your chest, your pupils widened as you stared up at him. All this time you believed Leshy is a creature brought to life and given a purpose by a god. That’s what all the legends suggested. It didn’t occur to you, it's a deity itself.

A god of the forest.

After a moment of complete stupor, shock gave way to a flash of fear. You bowed your head and started to fall onto your knees, to pay proper respect. However, his hand still holding yours pulled you up.

“None of that is necessary.” He assured you.

Though when you tipped your head up to look at him, Leshy’s gaze slid down your body in a slow, assessing study.

“At least not in that sense,” he murmured, licking his lips.

His eyes flicked back to yours. The stark blue pulsing with more green specks than before; as if his body came to life the same way nature sprung back as the snow melted away.

You felt a rush of heat through your veins at the suggestive implication of his words.

“What have you come here for, little fern?”

“To beg for mercy for my village.” Once again, you lowered your gaze. “People have been disappearing and being hurt. Swallowed by the forest or its creatures. I plead for no more blood to be spilled.”

Steve’s face betrayed no sign of irritation. For a split of a second you thought you saw a flash of sunlit amusement in his irises, but no mockery followed. He studied you for a long moment, not saying a word.

When he moved, it was slow and nonthreatening. You still startled, though perhaps it was at the loss of contact as his hand gently released your fingers.

He walked over to where the ground swallowed the altar with your offerings. It was only then that you realized a thick carpet of clovers had filled the space where the table had been. Delicate leaves tilted toward Steve’s legs, brushing against him with the softest of rustles, as if they were purring for him.

“You brought me honey, which you poured out of the goodness of your heart. But don’t you know that our wild bees’ honey is sweeter?” Steve asked, walking barefoot through the small field of clovers back toward you.

He stepped even closer this time and you felt the unique warmth radiating from him. A little stifling, like the humidity of the forest soaked in rain that was evaporating in the high summer sun.

It was making you dizzy in a very pleasant way.

“You gave me expensive fabrics, but nothing feels as soft and luxurious as petals of early spring’s flowers.” He circled you, like an animal may circle its prey. “None of your colorful beads shine as bright as drops of dew in the moonlight.”

“I-” What were you supposed to say? You didn’t have much and what you gave away was a big sacrifice in terms of your day to day survival.

You also didn’t think Leshy would be pleased, if you brought seasoned meat. He was, after all, a protector of wild animals. That sort of disrespect may have killed you on the spot.

Suddenly, you felt his hand brush along your waist. A light, fleeting touch, but enough to send a jolt down your spine.

“Moreover, you try to barter a single basket for dozens of lives.” Steve stopped in front of you.

“I’m sorry.” You lowered your head in shame, feeling the burning tears gather beneath your eyelids.

He was right and you didn’t think of that when you were packing your basket. It made you feel helpless, that you had nothing else to offer.

“Don’t be.” Steve tilted your chin up with the pads of his fingertips. His gaze was soft, glinting sincerity.

“You still did more than any other human has for decades. I’m just pointing out that a life can be compared in cost to another life, nothing else. No riches equal a heartbeat.”

You understood the value, agreed with it completely. But it made the situation look unsolvable. The fate of your village was doomed to go through horrors, since there was no other way to barter for it.

Then you registered the warmth of Steve’s fingers still holding your chin. His thumb angled to rub along your lower lip. You were in the hands of a powerful deity. Steve may have appeared nonthreatening, but he was still an ancient entity demanding a sacrifice.

No riches equal a heartbeat. You had a heartbeat. A rapidly fluttering one, at the moment; bouncing against the bars of your ribcage in fear of being ripped from it.

“You mean-” You swallowed a bile rising in your throat. “My life for theirs?”

You wanted to help your village, to help people in general. That need to care and nurture have always been so deeply ingrained in you. But you wanted to live! You wanted to experience feelings and wonders, joys and losses. You weren’t ready to meet the end so soon, so unexpectedly. The two needs - to help and to survive - were clashing in violence.

Steve’s hand moved from your chin to cup your cheek. Since he was the only comfort available at the moment, you leaned into his touch. A soothing shush spilled from his lips as he caught your panicked gaze and locked it with his.

“I’m not thirsty for blood, little fern.” He assured you. “I long for company.”

Somehow, looking into his eyes and sinking into the warmth his closeness provided, you felt the fear subsiding. Slowly, still leaving instinctive distrust, but it eased away.

“You want a friend?” You blinked, a little confused.

Of course you understood what he meant the moment he said it, but a voice of reason wouldn’t accept the fact this beautiful, powerful being wanted to bed you. Out of all the things a deity may demand, fucking an unimpressive mortal like you shouldn’t be on the list.

Steve laughed at your question, genuinely amused.

Instantly, choirs of birds joined his mirth in a tinkling melody that carried through the forest.

“No.” Steve shook his head; smile-caused crinkles appeared in the corners of his eyes and the filigree vines along his skin curled.

“I’ve got friends. You would meet them, if you stayed.” It surprised you, teasing your curiosity about what other beings roamed these forests.

Your thoughts didn’t stay focused on the matter for long. Not when Steve’s hand slid down the column of your neck, his other arm weaving around your waist and pulling you close to his body.

Very close. Even through the fabrics of your skirts and corset you felt the hard planes of his muscles against the softness of your body. Your hands landed on his chest, at first in an attempt to brace yourself to perhaps fight him off, but any force to push away dissipated. Instead, your fingertips were tingling.

Steve’s breath teased your skin as he leaned down, trailing his lips along your jaw.

“I want intimacy. Passion. And devotion.” He murmured, gripping the back of your neck as his other hand dipped lower to squeeze the flesh of your bottom.

Abruptly, your whole body tensed and you gasped when something coiled around your ankles. Thin and tickling, possibly an ivy vine. It curled along your legs, reaching upwards. Teasing your skin with a brush of leaves and forcing your legs slightly apart.

Steve’s lips grazed the shell of your ear.

“I wish to splay you on the moss and have it soak up your sweet juices as I play with your pretty cunt.”

You jerked in his embrace, but your core ignited. Heat pooled low in your abdomen, spreading down in a quick wave and filling your folds.

“I want to stretch you on my cock and have you call me your god not out of fear, but the pleasure I give you.” The vines that weaved around your legs didn’t reach far up your thighs, but if they had, your wetness would coat the delicate leaves.

“I want to fill you, until you bloom flowers and berries.”

Breathing became hard as the images filled your head; though you doubted it was a trick of his, more your own imagination eagerly supplying possibilities Steve words enticed.

When Steve unexpectedly released you and took a step back, you shivered as if you were dropped into a cold cave. Deprived of light and warmth.

He appeared more inhuman as he stretched to his full height and loomed over you.

“Are you willing to sacrifice?”

His voice echoed with the power of a booming wind, rattling your bones and swishing up your skirts.

Shaken from the daze Steve’s proximity and dirty words have caused, you faced the deal he was proposing with a clearer mind.

You’d be bound to the forest as long as Steve wanted to keep you, having to abandon your human life and plans. But you would be alive. And so would the villagers, some of whom were your friends.

You chanced one more look at the wall of branches and vines, briefly wondering if he’d let you go had you refused. Probably. But it was uncertain what awaited your village, or any other, if you backed out.

Taking a deep breath, you turned back to Steve. You gripped the fabric of your skirt to cover the nervous shaking of your fingers.

“Yes,” the word rolled out on your tongue like a faint whisper, but he heard it.

His eyes shimmered with tempting joy, like the reflection of sunlight on the rippling sheet of a lake. In a blink of an eye he was right in front of you, his hands on your hips.

“I’ll be good to you, my little fern.” Tip of his nose nudged along yours, warm breath softening your lips into compliance.

When he kissed you, it felt as if berries burst on your tongue, filling your mouth with sweet flavor.

Your hands traveled up his arms, clutching his shoulders. The one covered in bark provided a new, unique sensation. It grazed your fingertips, but also felt grounding. He didn’t have to pull you closer, your body turned pliant on its own volition.

Steve swallowed your gasp, gripping your hips tighter, as thick vines of ivy rapidly wound around you. They covered you whole, like they had that stone altar before. It felt scary and suffocating, but as soon as the cocoon of greenery swallowed your forms fully it burst apart; leaves scattered around in a fountain.

You broke the kiss, tipping your head away and looking around. You were no longer in the same spot. You were in no recognizable place, to be exact.

If you could find a name for it, the heart of the forest would be it.

Light green grass spread around in a thick carpet, with patterns of bluebells and lilies of the valley. Graceful, tall birches circled the place, their silvery leaves catching chunks of sun rays. By a spot where wild rose bushes weaved an intricate arch stood a big bed. Easily high at hip height, woven tightly of green moss and periwinkles.

Steve didn’t give you much time to admire. With a firm push of his hand he tilted your head back towards him. Kept cupping your cheek as he kissed you again, more urgently this time. Demanding.

He released you to tug on your clothes, doing a swift job with layers of your skirts, but grumbling a bit when trying to untie your corset.

“Won’t need that anymore here, little fern,” he purred as your breasts spilled out.

Then he was picking you up, big hands gripping the back of your thighs and hoisting you easily. He sat on the bed, slowly easing you down until you were standing between his spread legs.

It was only then that you realized the coverage around his hips was gone, leaving him exposed in all his glory.

You couldn’t help peeking down. Your pussy clenched around nothing as you stared at the impressive size of him. Your mouth filled with the aftertaste of berries and your own saliva as his cock twitched upwards.

Steve’s hands roamed over your body, exploring your curves and lines with utmost fascination. He didn’t hesitate leaning forward to capture a stiff nipple into his mouth, sucking eagerly. His antlers gave you a scare as they brushed so close to your skin, but not once did his movement cause you pain.

Feeling a little bolder, you slipped one of your hands between the roots of his antlers and into his hair. They felt soft and silky. Your other hand gripped the top of his shoulder; the one where bark printed into your palm in a sensation you were finding more and more pleasant.

As Steve pulled back slightly, you slipped your fingers from his hair and across his face, mapping out contours and scratching through his beard. He gripped one of your legs under your knee and pulled it up, placing your foot on the bed and spreading you obscenely. His eyes darkened, something wolfish glinting in them as his gaze settled on your puffed, wet folds.

“Show me how you touch yourself,” he demanded in a raspy voice.

The hand on your calf kept caressing and squeezing your flesh, while his other fisted his cock as your fingers dipped between your thighs.

None of your lovers ever expressed desire to see you pleasure yourself, but Steve’s gaze was so heated you didn’t feel shy. Quite the opposite, somehow it felt so easy and natural; even more arousing as Steve licked his lips in unmasked hunger.

“Let me taste you. I bet you’re sweeter and richer than any honey.”

You moaned, pushing two fingers inside and pumping them in and out a few times. When you brought your glistening digits to his lips, Steve licked them in a broad stroke of his tongue then took them into his mouth. His greedy sucking had your clit pulsing wildly.

“Delicious,” he hummed in delight, “and so ready for me, aren’t you?”

Swiftly, he grabbed your hips and pulled you over his lap. Your gasp at the sudden movement and the feeling of his cock against your inner thigh combined with Steve’s loud groan of pleasure, when you gripped his antlers to steady yourself.

“That’s it. Keep touching them.” He urged you on as he slid you down his shaft. “It’s as if you were gripping my cock.”

“Nghh!” You keened, tightening your desperate hold on the antlers as your walls stretched around Steve’s girth.

“Too big!” You whined, yet your hips followed the command of Steve’s hands as he guided you down.

“Shh, my little fern. Take it. I know you can.” He was mercilessly forcing you down, moaning as your tight, hot walls enveloped him. “All your sweet holes will learn to take all of me.”

By the time he was buried to the root, you were shaking in pleasure. Your cheek was pressed to Steve’s, your breath coming out in jagged, hot puffs. Where your breasts were squished into the hard planes of Steve’s chest, it felt as if the filigree vines pulsing beneath his skin moved to tease your nipples. Steve’s hands were splayed on your hips, holding you in place as he savored the feel of your pussy around him.

After a moment, he began rocking up into you and a few heartbeats later started bouncing you up and down his length. Soon your whimpers stretched into moans. Despite feeling boneless in his powerful hold, you also felt a surge of need to take from him as much as he was taking from your pliant body.

You held Steve’s gaze as you straightened your back and started riding him; your fingers squeezing his antlers.

When your climax hit, it was intense and unworldly.

The first burst of it felt like falling into a cool mountain streak, only for the next tremors to fill you with heat and glow. Your head spinned and your moans and cries intertwined with small gasps of laughter. It was everything at once! Running with the wolves, picking fresh raspberries, twirling around in summer rain.

And when Steve followed soon after, cumming with a loud roar, each spurt of his seed seemed to immerse you in hot springs.

It was a rush of sensations; overwhelming, but addictive.

When you met Steve’s gaze - both of you breathing heavily and still rocking into the continuous rhythm of aftershocks - you had no idea your irises bore first specks of inhuman green. All you knew was that you wanted more.

And so you demanded it.

Steve’s grin at your responsiveness was near predatory. He pinned you beneath him on the soft mossy pillows, placed your ankles over his shoulders and plunged into you in a hard thrust that had your scream echoing through the woods.

Soon you’d be bound to him and the forest with every cell of your changing body.

#aspensenchantedbday #buckets-and-trees #Steve Rogers x reader #Steve Rogers x you #Steve Rogers x female reader #Steve Rogers imagine #Steve Rogers fic #Leshy!Steve Rogers #leshy!Steve Rogers x reader #entwined

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