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#bring on the peaceful nights y'all
shotmrmiller · 15 days
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marriage of convenience but only because johnny's family would never accept simon as his boyfriend due to archaic beliefs so johnny finds you on like OF or something.
he's got an incredibly healthy bank account too, so he asks(begs) you to take his last name and in turn he pays you for it. monthly pension, he's got you covered for school too-- whatever you want, just be his wife so he can finally fuck simon in peace.
except his family wants to meet you and now he's obligated to take you over. and then his mom starts hounding about grandchildren.
we just got married, ma.
ah expect at least 6 bairns, ye hear?
and then his intrusive sister suddenly brings up why the both of y'all aren't have any sex.
the walls are thin, lad. we'd hear ye whether we want to or nae.
he gets tense, stuffs his clammy hands in his pockets as he warbles that you're on your menses, it's improper.
fer two weeks?
now he's got you under him fully clothed that same night with your legs cradling his trim hips wondering why his cock is half-mast even though he only likes men and loves simon.
or maybe he is fully into men, but simon (apparently) isn't and his eyes keep straying to you, his loyal, dutiful wife, as you paint your toes a pretty color in the sunroom.
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alrightieaphroditie · 1 month
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joel miller and the five love languages
*:·゚✧ back to masterlist
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pairing*:·゚ afab!reader x joel miller wc*:·゚ 5.3k warnings*:·゚ 18+ minors please do not interact! features pre-outbreak!joel, post-outbreak!joel (both the qz and jackson eras), one mention of child's death, some talk of insecurities, mentions of kissing/making out, oral (both f and m receiving), dirty talk, praise, p in v penetration (not really specified whether it is protected or not), some light period play, nothing too detailed, just a hodgepodge of things really :)  an*:·゚ ahh this has been sitting in my drafts for the longest amount of time and i finally decided to scrap it and rewrite it. i did this same kind of post with eddie munson awhile back, and it's safe to say this genre of writing is one of my favorites. this is essentially a little character analysis on joel's character and how he would handle the different love langauges with a hint of nsfw elements for each! i really loved writing this, and i hope i did his character justice. any and all feedback, be it comments or reblogs, is welcomed! this is also wildly unedited, so please forgive me lol
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i. physical touch
for joel, physical touch is a way for him to stay grounded, almost. to kind of remind himself that you're there, you're real, you're okay. the action brings him a sense of peace, even if it's simply his pinky finger brushing against the tip of your shoulder or his knee gently bumping into yours when you sit together. he loves feeling your skin under his rough, calloused fingers because you're so fucking soft in comparison. that difference between you isn't the only one, but it reminds him that while you're everything he isn't - patient, friendly, pure, and utter sunshine - you're still his. his to touch, his to hold, his to love. 
even though he'd never admit it, to anyone or himself, joel is quite the cuddler. the first time you spent the night in his bed, this information was a pleasant surprise. you had woken up halfway through the night needing to pee and found yourself tangled up in joel's limbs; one arm was underneath your pillow, the other securely wrapped around your middle. his legs were woven within yours, with his muscled thigh pressed between them at a spot that had your cheeks heating up. you had to untangle yourself from him to get up, and he had let out the smallest of grunts in disappointment. as soon as you were back in his bed, though, he immediately pulled you back in his orbit, his face pressed against your neck as both of y'alls breathing steadied out again. 
when it comes to public displays of affection, though, this is where it differs. pre-outbreak!joel would be more willing to commit these acts; you'd be used to having his hand in the back pocket of your jeans while strolling the farmers markets or being kissed for longer than a few seconds while waiting in line to check out at the grocery store. he wouldn't be obnoxious with it, but he'd definitely want to show off and claim you as his out in public. 
post-outbreak!joel is a different story. now, he doesn't really see the appeal of those public displays. not that he's against them, per say, but it's more of him not wanting to really let his guard down enough to give in to the temptation of touching you in public. even without these public acts, everyone knew you were joel's girl, and he is quite alright with just that. so it's not that doesn't engage in these acts, they're just slightly more subtle, slightly more restricted. 
sometimes, he lets himself brush back your hair when it blows in your face while you're walking down the street, lets himself gently tuck it behind your ear while you grin up at him. sometimes, he lets himself press the swiftest of kisses against your forehead, taking a second to breathe in your scent before pulling away. sometimes, he lets his arm rest across your shoulders with your body firmly pressed against his, reveling in the way you fit against him so rightly. 
these little moments barely fulfill that innate urge he has to touch you, to give himself that sense of peace you bring him, but it only fuels that need exponentially when you guys are eventually confined in the safety of your home. 
this love language translates quite nicely into the bedroom, too, because joel simply cannot get enough of you when the two of you get intimate. 
every time your kissing gets a little needy, it's like he physically cannot control his hands; they start against the sides of your face, cupping you gently as he hungrily moves his lips against yours. his thumbs will brush against your cheeks while his other fingers dig into your hair. then they'll move to your shoulders, usually so that he can guide you into a different position. then they'll drift down your sides, digging into your waist for a moment before slipping underneath your shirt - that is, if it's not off already. he'll let his hands caress the smooth skin of your stomach, your back, before bringing them to the hard peaks of your breasts. he never spends too much time in one spot, though. his hands have to be everywhere. 
his favorite positions are the ones that allow his body to be completely pressed up against yours; the classic missionary, which allows him to settle his weight just nicely on top of yours, allows him to grind his hips into yours and pushes his cock even deeper inside you. allows him to feel your tits bouncing against his chest as he kisses you hard while he fucks you even harder. your wrists would be enclosed together above your head by his hand, and the other would be stroking the side of your face, the side of your hip, anywhere he could reach. 
he loves when he can fuck you on the couch, having your body propped up in his lap while you rock against him. he finds it so cute that you'll tuck your feet underneath his thighs to use as leverage to bounce yourself along his cock. you usually crave that physical connection with him just as much as he does, fulfilling that need by wrapping your arms around his shoulders, tugging on his hair, pressing his mouth against your chest. this always causes you both to be more sweaty than comfortable, which always leads to round two in the shower, so that's always a bonus. 
his third favorite position? good 'ole sixty-nining. he fucking loves having your weight on top of him, your pussy pressed and rocking against his face as he eats you out so greedily. his hands, once again, can roam over most of your body; they can spank your ass when he feels the need to, massage your calves ever so gently after you've came all over his face, press against your back to push your stomach and tits even closer to his abdomen, card through your hair to guide your movements as you deepthroat his cock. 
and every time after, when you're both exhausted and spent, joel will pull you into his arms, lay a kiss against your lips and forehead, and hold you close until your heartbeats have evened out. 
ii. words of affirmation
truthfully, words of affirmation is not really joel's strongest suit (at least, in none sexually settings, but we'll get to that in a second). as a single dad, he really has tried his best to show his daughter (daughters) that he loves and appreciates them with words, but truthfully? he really struggles with articulating how he's feeling, even when it is positive. so, getting those affirmations out are harder than anything else, most of the time. 
pre-outbreak!joel has a bit of an easier time with this, as he isn't as guarded as he'll become yet. he has no problem cheering for sarah during her soccer games, or admitting to tommy he did a good job at one of their worksites. he has no problems with it when it comes to you, either, as he often reminds you of how beautiful you are every time he sees you, be it first thing when you wake up together or after you've pampered yourself a bit for a date night. the man will constantly tell you how stunning you are, how lucky he is to have you, all of that jazz. you'll eat it up every time too, because the one thing that stayed with joel before and after the outbreak was the fact that he'll never say something he doesn't mean. so, when he's consistently hyping you up, you know it's real. 
post-outbreak!joel is much more secluded in this love language, though. he'll tell you sometimes that you look good, only mostly when you're only wearing one of his t-shirts or his flannels. it's not that he doesn't think you're beautiful - he genuinely believes you're the most gorgeous, heartbreakingly beautiful thing he's ever seen - it's just that, with the way the world is now, he finds that to be so trivial to compliment. 
instead, he'd rather congratulate you on being able to grow the new seeds you received from bill and frank, even when you've never really had a green thumb. he'd rather comment on how smart you are, when you figure out how to make your own bubble bath solution because you missed having them when you soaked in the tub. he'd rather tell everyone of your achievements, simply because he was so fucking proud of you and in awe of the way you handle everything with grace. 
despite this love language not necessarily coming naturally to joel, he has absolutely no issues with giving you affirmations in the bedroom. absolutely none. in fact, he likes giving you praise just as much as you like to receive it. he so deeply wants you to know how good of a girl you are, how good your body feels against his, how good your pussy takes his cock. the man is simply obsessed with complimenting you in this area that it's insane. 
when you two first got together, there honestly wasn't that much talking involved. besides a few subdued grunts and moans, joel was otherwise pretty quiet throughout the experience, which in turn made you feel like maybe you were doing something wrong or that the chemistry you thought you felt just wasn't really there to begin with. once you communicated those feelings to him, though, and you both became more comfortable and trusting of each other, in intimate settings and out, that's when things started to change. 
joel could now recognize that you needed those thoughts he had in his head to be said out loud, needed to know that he was enjoying himself to the point of no return. and so, he did. 
when you started kissing, and your breaths were turning into pants and moans, he'd whisper against your mouth as his hands roamed your body; "can't get enough of those lips, baby. they feel so soft and right against mine, yeah?" "god, you feel so good underneath my hands. you like bein' touched by my rough hands, don't you baby?" 
when you were both undressed, writhing against each other as you frantically tried to get closer to one another: "fuck, but you look so pretty underneath me, honey. this is where you belong." "how did i get so lucky, hm? to have someone like you beggin' me to touch you, to kiss you? your little whimpers sound so good, baby. so fuckin' good." "that's it, sugar. move those hips against mine, just like that. i want that pretty little pussy comin' against my thigh real soon, okay? don't disappoint me, darlin'."
and especially when he finally sunk his cock inside of you, mixed in between his moans and grunts as he fucked you how you liked it: "jesus fuckin' christ. it's like this pussy was made just for me, don't you agree, honey?" "look at how well this little cunt is takin' my cock, baby. don't i fill you up so nicely? we look so good together." "you're such a good fuckin' girl, rubbin' that clit while i make you take this dick. you wanna come, huh? well go ahead. soak my cock, baby."
and after, joel praises you while he takes a wet rag to your skin, cleaning up the mess you both made. he praises you while he helps get you in the shower or the tub, whatever you prefer that night, and praises you while he helps dry you off. he praises you while tugging one of his shirts over your head, while helping you slip on a fresh pair of panties, while tucking you in under the blankets and while pulling you into his side. 
iii. quality time
quality time is probably one of joel's main love languages, as he's the kind of person who can comfortably sit in silence with someone he likes and feel so content. joel is honestly a really solitary individual, he likes his own space, doing his own thing. he doesn't mind allowing people he trusts into his orbit, but he's not someone who needs to be constantly doing something with someone else to enjoy time together. 
some of his favorite moments with sarah are when they'd sit on the couch together, a game show playing in the background while she flipped through a magazine, and he jotted down information for his work sites. sometimes they wouldn't talk for over an hour, but the ease he felt while simply sitting there with her was unbeatable.
with pre-outbreak!joel, there were a lot of moments like that with you, too. movie nights were often in his house when he was able to get home from work at a decent time. it could've been a movie he'd already seen a thousand times, and yet he wouldn't mind it at all because that meant he got at least a few hours of time with you pressed against his side, or your head in his lap. he also liked when you two were able to cook together; you'd usually turn the radio on some modern station that he never cared for but got used to listening to because sarah also listened to it, and he'd be content to listen to you hum along with the songs while he diced whatever food you slid his way. 
after the outbreak though, there wasn't really a lack of quality time between the two of you, unless he was off on some hunting or scavenging trip. when your relationship became official, joel all but moved into your house. you'd wake up together, brush your teeth in the small bathroom together, fix breakfast, lunch, and dinner together, wind down together, fall asleep together. the amount of time y'all spent together would probably seem like a lot compared to others, but joel didn't mind it one bit. he loved being involved in your life, loved just being near your presence that rivaled the sun for him. 
his absolute favorite moments were when you two would wind down before laying down. you had the habit of drinking tea before bed, which is something he picked up as well, and so you'd brew the tea, spruce it up to each of your likings (joel drank his straight up, but you loved added in some honey or vanilla when able to). you'd settle into the couch in the living room, curling up on one side while joel sat on the opposite. after a long day of helping around the town, joel mostly would relax with his head tilted back, eyes closed, while you preferred to read or attempt to knit. 
throughout the night, your legs would find themselves crossing the distance of the couch, with your feet resting in his lap. his hands would be massaging the soles of your feet or tracing up and down your calves ever so softly. no words would be shared between the two of you, unless there was a passage in the book you were reading that you wanted to share with him, and some people might have deemed that uncomfortable, but for joel? god, was it fulfilling. 
it gave him the time to reset his mind, slow down his body. he didn't have to think about anything besides how soft your skin felt or how cute it was that you'd curse at yourself when the stitch you were attempting didn't go right. he could simply bask in your presence, build himself back up again. and that is something that meant the world to him. 
his other favorite part about nights like that were, despite the usual routineness of it, most of the time it led to other things which equally satisfied his need for that quality time. and really, the options for that were unlimited. 
sometimes, after feeling the smooth expanse of skin on your legs, joel would decide that he needed to feel more. his hands would turn greedy; rather than simply grazing his fingertips along your skin, he'd put more pressure behind the movements, making his intentions well known. he'd shift to reach more than just your calves, pushing his hands up to your knees, your thighs, the peak between your legs. by that point, whatever activity you had been filling your time with would have found itself settled on the nearby coffee table, your attention solely on the man next to you. 
his urge to be closer to you would manifest in different ways after this point. some nights, he wanted the focus to be on you only. he'd sink to his knees in front of the couch, guiding your legs gently to rest over his shoulders while he found ecstasy between your legs. he'd take his time with you, ignoring how much his joints hurt pressed against the wooden floors simply just to hear you moan his name. he loved feeling your hands in his hair as he lapped up the wetness from your pussy. 
other nights, he wanted it to be a mutual endeavor. he'd yank on your ankle, dragging you halfway down the couch before gripping your hips and pulling you on top of him. kisses would be shared, clothes would be shed, and orgasms would be had while you ride his cock until you were begging him for a rest. his hands would leave half-moon bruises along your hipline as guided your body along his, his mouth leaving little red love bites across your neck and chest as he soothed you after an orgasm. 
and some nights, joel wanted the focus to be solely on him. he'd lure you in with a kiss, drawing you up on your knees to get closer while his hand worked on his belt. before you even knew it, his cock was out and in your mouth. one of his hands would be holding up your hair, the other would be palming your pussy through your clothes as he thrusted his hips up in time with your movements. 
it was the care he gave you afterwards that remained his favorite part, though. joel loved taking baths or showers with you, loved getting you all comfortable in the bed before he let himself do the same. loved holding you afterwards, stroking his fingers along your skin soothingly. talk was limited here, oftentimes as you both were too spent to communicate anything at that point. but by the way he held you, by the way you let him hold you, rough hands and all, that was enough to solidify the love between you without words. 
iv. receiving gifts 
joel miller has never been the richest man. he's worked for everything he has, for everything he's given other people. it's that quality that makes his gifts hold so much more meaning; he wasn't trying to buy your love, by any means. instead, when he did offer you a gift, it was heartfelt and had value behind it. 
pre-outbreak!joel would've loved to spoil you as often as he could, but as a single dad and contractor, he wasn't really rolling in dough. in a way, he always felt guilty that he wasn't able to buy you flowers every week, or that sweater you saw in the store while shopping with sarah. and you had told him over and over again that you weren't with him for the money ("clearly," he'd scoff at himself every time you mentioned it) and that the fact that he wanted to do those things was simply enough for you. 
occasionally, though, he was able to set aside a little money for gifts for you. sometimes, a bouquet of flowers would show up at work, the card inside reading nothing more than "thinkin' of you" every time. sometimes, after pointing out a dress you found online that joel couldn't help but fall in love with too, you'd come home to a package on the porch, the dress inside. on your one-year anniversary, joel surprised you with a simple gold chained necklace that had a tiny letter 'j' pendent. 
later that night, while sarah was still at tommy's, you had just barely made it through the threshold of your house before joel threw himself at you. his kisses were needy and rough, his teeth clashing into yours at the beginning with the intensity behind it. he managed to kick your door closed, never moving his mouth from yours as he started stripping you out of the red dress you had worn. you never even made it to the bedroom for the first two rounds. 
instead, joel hoisted you up against him, your back pressed into the closet near your front door and your legs wrapped around his waist. his nimble fingers pulled your panties to the side, caressing your wet folds and lightly strumming his thumb across your clit before pressing his hips flush against yours, filling you completely. and later, when you stumbled to the couch and joel had you bent over the side, his hips bucking against yours and his fingers digging into your hair, all you were wearing was the necklace. 
you never took it off after that night. 
post-outbreak!joel is a bit of a different story. there wasn't really much around anymore that he could buy for you, per say, but he did a pretty good job at finding things to give you despite that fact. joel is a provider, so while his gifts may not have been flowers and fancy jewelry now, they were necessities and things you needed, sometimes things you never even mentioned that he picked up on. 
when you first started talking to joel, you had mentioned offhandedly that you missed blueberries, as that fruit had been a staple in your morning breakfast. a few weeks later, after returning to the qz from a visit to bill and franks, he produced a packet of blueberry seeds from his jacket pocket, setting it besides you on the table while kissing your forehead. 
another time, while strolling down the market on the main street, you had stumbled upon a barrette that you absolutely adored. it was dirty, the gold metal needing to be wiped clean from the mud stuck to it, and it was missing one of the pearls in the middle, but it stuck with you for some reason. you never said anything about it, considering you had nothing worthy to trade or sell, but joel saw you turn it over in your hands, saw your gaze go back to the stall more than once. while you were conversing with a friend further down the street, joel had doubled back to the stall with the barrette and provided the worker with a few pills on the down low in exchange for the clip. 
he even cleaned it up himself before presenting it to you. the action had sent you over the moon, feeling so giddy and so normal as you held the hair clip in your hands. you had asked joel to help you put it in your hair, which shocked him. but he obliged. he carefully tucked some of your hair up behind your ear, gently placing the clip in the right spot and pressing down just enough to secure it. 
it was such a simple moment, but it took his breath out of his chest for a second, seeing you grinning up at him with the clip he had provided for you in your hair. that was the night that your relationship took a step further; joel couldn't really explain why he felt the primal urge to claim you just then, but he just knew he needed to. you had asked him how the clip looked, and instead of responding, joel had crushed his mouth against yours, sweeping you up off your feet and leading you to the bedroom. 
his kisses were frantic, as were his hands; he didn't know what part of you to touch first. you were really taken back by this sudden reaction, but it had been a long time coming, so after the initial gasp you had let out, you were just as eager and frantic as joel was. your fingers were trying to nimbly open the buttons on his shirt, but somehow you managed to rip it open and send a few flying across the room. 
it was the noise of the little beads scattering on the wooden floor that made joel pull back a little, glancing down at his now-ruined shirt before looking at you, gazing up at him with wide eyes. his brown eyes stayed on yours, and eventually, a small laugh escaped your lips as you apologized for his shirt. he couldn't help but chuckle himself, chastising himself a little for rushing things so much when all he wanted to do was savor this moment, savor you. he glanced at the clip again, slightly covered by some strands of your hair that had fallen out and ducked down to capture your lips with his again. 
v. acts of service 
this is the love language that joel understands the most and acts out the most. as mentioned before, this man is a provider, a caretaker to those he loves. he will do just about anything to keep those people safe, keep them comfortable, keep them alive. there is quite literally nothing joel wouldn't do for you. 
pre-outbreak!joel is a handyman, for sure. he's who you'd call if your car breaks down or a tire blows out. he's who you'd call if your sink starts leaking or one of the lights in your bathroom goes out. even just a simple text will have him heading to the hardware store, gathering the tools he needs if he doesn't already own it himself, before immediately heading to fix whatever you need. 
he loves stepping into that role of taking care of you in that sense, mostly because it just really makes him feel needed, important to keep around. sometimes he wonders what you see in him, a single dad trying to make ends meet. it's the ways you allow him to help you out, though, that are what keep him filling fulfilled and loved. he knows you can be as independent as you want, but the fact that you trust him enough to immediately turn to him when something is wrong? that's the best feeling in the world to joel. 
this joel is constantly doing these little acts of service, too, to the point where it just comes naturally for him. every time you stay the night, he's up a little earlier to make breakfast for the two of you, even if he burns the food more than not. he always keeps an eye on your gas levels, sometimes taking your car out to fill it up himself. same with the oil changes; he has the dates and mileages written out on a post-it so that he's in the loop, just like you. when he's at the grocery store with sarah and he sees the body wash you use that's almost out, he'll go ahead and grab a new bottle without you even asking. 
this continues even after the outbreak, too. if anything, that need to feel important, to feel like a provider for someone strengthens the longer the world turns to shit. post-outbreak!joel is all about those acts of service, because he might have failed sarah when this all began, but he sure as hell is never going to fail you or ellie. 
at the qz, he's all about making trades for the betterment of your life together. whatever he thinks would benefit you the most, he's doing it - even if that means he's gone for weeks on end to secure the goods necessary. you found yourself spending time in the lower city to pass your days, helping out any shopkeepers with their still-standing stores or watching over the kids as their parents do their duties. joel will walk you there every morning before he's off on his own duties, and every evening he waits for you to be done so that he can walk back home with you. 
in jackson, he'll fulfill this language in a multitude of ways. he's always the one to do the dishes, even if he's also the one who cooked that night. you always fuss about that because joel has arguably worked harder and longer than you did on most days, but every time you bring it up, he simply shoos you away with the dishrag nearby before continuing to scrub at the dishes. he's always the one to make sure you're stocked up on firewood during the colder months, always making sure that your pipes won't freeze or that the fireplace is properly managed. joel will make sure you're stocked on the tea you like to drink at bedtime, make sure you have enough books to keep you occupied, make sure he's left enough of his shirts at your place to keep you satisfied.
this easily translates into the bedroom, too, because while this man likes control, he is nothing if not a giver. his back could be aching, his knees could be weak, and he'd still lay on his back against the hardwood floors so that you could use the couch to prop yourself up on while he eats you out from below. if he senses that you've had a rough day, he'll immediately guide you to the bedroom so that he can figure out how to help you there. you could not even touch him once and he'd still be a happy man, just as long as you've come. 
if you had a headache? no problem. joel's always claimed that a good orgasm can help keep those at bay, so he won't stop until you've given him at least three. the first is always by his fingers, brushing through the slick of your skin before pressing them inside your sopping pussy. his thumb will be caressing your throbbing clit ever so gently, not applying as much pressure as you really need but just enough to still feel that friction. 
the second will always be by his mouth, as he can't keep his tongue away from the glistening skin between your legs after coming on his fingers. this one is always the shortest, too, because joel's tongue flattening against your clit has you on the verge of another orgasm in seconds. and, finally, the third one is always by his cock. he'll push into you slowly but deeply, keeping his hips pressed against yours as you adjust to his length. and then he'll tease the shit out of you; never thrusting in a dedicated manner, pushing you to the edge of your last orgasm before pulling back to prolong it. 
he's even willing to help out when you're riddled with period cramps, because joel miller is not the kind of man who is afraid of getting a little dirty in the bedroom. if anything, he loves being able to finger you into oblivion to ease the cramps because the tylenol just doesn't work as well when it's been expired for years. he'll keep his fingers inside of you until you're begging him to stop, until tears have been shed from overstimulation and not pain. depending on where you're at on your cycle, he'll even insist on fucking you, too. claims that he can give you a better orgasm with his cock, that being full of him would ease the pain a little better because you would be focusing on the sting of the stretch rather than the cramps happening on the inside. 
his logic might be a little flawed, but like i said - joel miller will do pretty much anything to keep you happy, even if he has to get a little dirty every now and then. 
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dividers by @saradika-graphics!
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house-of-daena · 7 months
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my doctor is a succubus!? [succubus.afab.baizhu x m.reader]
contents: he/him pronouns, subtop reader/powerbottom baizhu, nsfw, s3x with a LOT of feelings, virgin reader, overstimulation, praise, degradation, vanilla-ish, creampie, blood, fem genitalia/anatomy terms w/ baizhu (pvssy, cvnt, womb), mention of top surgery scars, ooc baizhu(? he's just really inlove w/ you), hurt/comfort, tell me if i miss anything. [wc. 5.2k]
꒰ GRAHHHHH finally able to post this... after 2-3 weeks posting the masterlist im . i can't with myself 😭 so sorry it took so long and im extra sorry it came out with this monstrosity. i very much like this imo buuttt i can't say the same for you guys. anyways, i probably wont write smth like this ever again unless y'all end up liking it!! (also this was supposed to celebrate 600-700 followers but uh. oops! ty for 800!) ꒱
let's fuck monsters tonight!
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it was always peaceful at night. crickets chirping into the cool hours of darkness, fireflies lighting up as they flew, like the stars above the clouds, and the silent crashing of waves against the shore.
no soul could be seen wandering in the streets of liyue, except for some mililith patrolling to keep the city safe. but something lurked in the shadows...
something sinister.
hungry.
lustful.
he crept from house to house, looking for the perfect prey to feed on. he searched desperately, the hunger that had been ignored for treacherous years, leaving his monstrous instincts salivating and wild. the pain of starvation he brings himself to, in fear of hurting others, has weakened him, but his hunt didn't cease for a moment. it made him crave it, the essence of someone who could fulfill his devilish needs, and the warmth his insides long yearned for.
the mark on his pelvis had gone dull, and it ached more with each passing day.
baizhu usually relied on medicine he had made for himself. to keep his salacious desires at bay, and though it wasn't much of the real deal, it managed to keep his body relatively healthy without the base nutrients it required for his succubus blood, and it truly helped him for the longest time.
but it has been years since he had feasted on someone's precious essence, and baizhu has diligently refused to feed again. while his nature is uncouth, his heart remains pure, and he worries that if he tries to feed again, he will hurt them, despite hurting himself.
but this time, his hunger was different.
it was an ardent need. essential. his body reacted so negatively, rendering him unable to properly work for days. it was clear that his body was demanding him to go and hunt for food, so it could sustain itself properly. perhaps after feeding once, he could go back to his regular intake of pills.
for now, he searched for a feast.
and, indeed, he found it, inside a familiar house.
your home,
and you were sleeping inside your bedroom,
a succubus' meal.
if he were to do it with anyone, it would be you, as much as he didn't want to.
you were a sweet man, always visiting him and qiqi in bubu pharmacy and offering a hand whenever you were free. you get along with just about everyone in the pharmacy; being old friends with gui, helping qiqi with deliveries—even changsheng has taken a liking to you, slithering onto your arm when you step behind the counter with baizhu, giving you a warm welcome.
he can't help but find himself falling for such a man like you.
and he absolutely hates the fact that the only person he'd feel safe within such a vulnerable state is you. he could kill you, and he would never forgive himself if he got carried away.
you were too precious to him. but he was starving.
it greatly intensified once he took a step inside your room, almost salivating the moment he inhaled your scent. archons, he smelt you everywhere, it was almost suffocating. and he had never smelt something so divine, so pungent, he was slightly aware of how his thoughts were slowly getting muddled—he admired you as you slept, chest steadily rose and fell, soft snores from your parted lips. you looked so peaceful, and yet here he was, hovering above your unsuspecting form, biting his bottom lip and his hands trembling as he held back from touching you so soon.
you began to stir on your bed when baizhu turned off your lamp, a faint hiss that was dangerously close to your ear made you blearily open your eyes in the dead of night, the weight of your bed shifting to one side more as you felt something move right beside you.
quickly, you jolt from your bed, startled at the man beside you. a scream almost leaves your lips when he leans towards you, face inches apart, his hot breath hitting your skin. "don't worry," he murmurs, voice silky smooth, so sultry it made your skin crawl, cheeks flushed as he moves even closer to you. "i won't hurt you, i just... need some help, is all."
the man before you reassures, his cool fingertips tracing your jawline, sharpened nails digging slightly into your skin. baizhu knows that if he suggests that he needs help, even though he was a stranger breaking into your home, you'd assist him. perhaps the charm he was using in his voice also helped, considering your eyes have easily succumbed to his mesmerizing haze of seduction.
all it took for him was to speak with his voice in a low, alluring tone, press his lithe, and smooth body against yours, allowing your hands to glide onto the skin of his exposed belly and touch you like he owns you—teasing you with assurances of bliss, only to pull away. like bait attached to a string, luring you into his possessive hands.
baizhu almost lost himself in his desire for you, his heart pounding and the mark on his womb ached more than ever before. he craved to have you inside him, nearly jumping on you and just taking you then and there.
but gods, baizhu's love for you was the only thing that was holding him back, so he settled on peppering wet kisses on your quivering adam's apple, his hand rubbing your thigh. "you'll help me, right?" he hums, golden irises glowing faintly in the dark. he sees you squint as if you're trying to discern who he is—he was probably oddly familiar to you, considering his voice and the shape of his body were similar to the kindhearted doctor from the local pharmacy not too far away from your home...
your thoughts were chased away when his forked tongue flickered against your lips, suddenly aware of his... unnatural features. slitted, but gorgeous golden eyes, scales on certain parts of his skin, small horns, akin to bumps, that protruded from his forehead, a tail with a heart-shaped tip, and fangs that made your heart lurch at both fear and excitement.
"i've been starving for an awfully long time..." he whispers into your ear, his hand slowly creeping inside your shirt and card his nails onto your stomach, soliciting a small whimper from your throat. baizhu almost moans in delight at the wonderful sound. "you'll feed me, right? let me regain my strength?"
slowly, you nod, hand resting on his shoulder. "y-yeah," you manage to say, still trying to make out any of his features in the dark. "i can cook you something real quick-"
"oh no, you're quite mistaken." he purrs, licking his lips as his hand begins to lower itself down to your crotch. "you see, darling, i'm a succubus." he hears your breath hitch at his confession, his lips brushing against yours as he pins you against the headboard, straddling your lap. strands of his hair fall to your face, your hands feel as if it belongs on his slender waist as you grab hold of it, his eyes gleam brightly with lust as he looks down at you and lifts your chin to stare back into his bewitching face. "i'll need a different kind of sustenance...~"
even in the dark, you can tell that he is absolutely gorgeous as if the gods themselves carved him into existence. your grip tightens, so much so that your nails leave crescent-shaped indents.
baizhu was experiencing absolute heaven, and the both of you were still fully clothed. his heart was beating so hard against his chest that he was afraid you could feel it if he pressed his body against yours. he was smiling ear to ear in excitement, and he fought hard to hold back. his body was in a love-struck frenzy, skin hot to the touch and his cheeks flaming red, his tail flicking back and forth.
oh, he never would've expected to have you like this so soon. underneath him, looking up at him with those lovely eyes, lost, but still so eager to help. if you only knew the things you do to him...
he could see your hesitance, probably thinking about the risks of indulging in a succubus' request. it was understandable, honestly, even though baizhu was in complete control of his body, he could still put your life at risk. after all, he hasn't eaten in years.
"you won't die," he murmurs almost too sweetly, his voice making your poor, charmed mind buzz pleasantly. "that's a promise~" thankfully, you could still make coherent thoughts, shooting him a serious look, hands curiously tracing the sensitive mark on his pelvis that glowed in the dark. he hums at the feeling of your fingers, gently pressing and kneading, yet it burned ferociously with ardent need. gods, his body needed you now.
"if you say so...." you whisper back, nervous, "i put my trust in you, if it meant helping you..."
so as soon as those words left your lips, baizhu grabbed you by the collar and smashed your lips together, kissing you so hard that it felt like he was devouring you. teeth clashed against each other, his fangs sank onto the fragile skin of your bottom lip, making it bleed, and he sucks on your tongue, kissing and practically taking all the air out of your lungs.
baizhu was ecstatic, swallowing the lavish taste of your blood, drinking in all the whimpers and moans you make just from the addicting kiss. your hands were now on his ass, guiding his body and grinding his crotch onto your hardening cock. when he pulls away, he pants, moving his hips languidly to meet your thrusts, absolutely enamored at the string of saliva that connected the two of you.
"you shouldn't trust so easily," baizhu warns, cradling your head into his arms, his kisses never ceasing, making sure to attach his lips to every inch of your skin. he wants to savor every single second he spends with you, loving your body, getting a taste of something so sacred, you, that he would surely grow to yearn once this is all over. "if it were another succubus, you might not be treated as nicely as i have~"
his voice put you in a hypnotic trance, eyes trailing down his body as your hands moved on their own, stripping him bare from his clothing. fingers, featherlight and delicate, trailed the scars that adorned his chest, the tantalizing feeling of your hot breath on his nipple while your hand pinched and flicked his other. "there's just... something so familiar about you." you murmur against his skin, pressing the pad of your wet and hot tongue against his perky bud, making baizhu let out a pleased sigh, hand grabbing the back of your head. your mind was clouded with his drowning lust to recognize him, but still awake enough to think. "you know me, and... i know you."
baizhu felt his heart drop, the urge to run away and find someone else to feed him gnawed at his stomach. he would rather starve than let himself be known to you; him, a succubus, seducing you to do his bidding. baizhu longed to have you in his bed, to make love to you and have you all for himself, to call you his, and call himself yours. just—not like this!
and as if you could sense his inner turmoil, you gently turned your bodies, laying him down on your bed. you kissed the tip of his nose, down to the apple of his cheeks, the corners of his bloodied lips, and onto his chin. you kissed him like he was a masterpiece to be worshipped, hands stroking his supple skin. he could see the admiration in your eyes, sparkling from the slightest of light the moon provided that seeped through your curtains.
and while baizhu couldn't tell if it was all because of his hypnotizing charm, his heart skipped a beat.
then, you grab his hand, lips brushing against his knuckles and kissing the callouses that graced his fingertips. "i feel safe, for some reason." you continued, leaning back to take off your clothes. "like we have met before, and you are company i enjoy myself a lot with... isn't that weird, stranger?"
baizhu could hear the slight recognition in your voice, but his initial fear was forgotten when he felt your cock pressed against his thigh. his body immediately reacted to your warmth, moving his hips to feel more of you, against his desperate, aching hole. stars above, it is so much bigger than he anticipated, your drooling tip smearing pre all over this thigh, and baizhu gulps at the groans that rumble from your chest.
it hurt to have you so close, yet so far, so empty despite the promise of being filled. still, baizhu managed to find his voice to reply. "o-oh, certainly. i am a succubus after all," he tried to regain the flair in his tone, to keep you enraptured to his hidden beauty, delude you into thinking that he wasn't the same man you thought he was, "a demon, monster."
though it was dark, baizhu saw your lips curve downward, frowning at his harsh words. your hands slid from his waist, down to the back of his thighs, squeezing the flesh, before parting his legs and letting him wrap them around your waist, keeping the two of you connected until the succubus that lays before your bed decided he had enough.
you were completely at his mercy, and it made you impossibly harder.
gently, as if he was your lover, you pushed back a strand of his hair behind his pointed ear, fingers lingering on the shape of his concealed, yet beautiful face. "don't speak to yourself like that," you kiss his collarbones, and feel him squeeze you between his legs a little tighter, pulling you closer to him, "it breaks my heart."
"does it now?" baizhu quips, sharp, quick, defensive, and disbelieving. "you don't even know me."
"you still have feelings, don't you?"
baizhu's heart can't take it. it feels so full, about to explode, despite the agonizing emptiness of his hole, thighs quivering and hands clinging onto you. he feels breathless, heartbeat in his throat—you're treating him how you'd treat baizhu, the caring doctor of bubu pharmacy, not the succubus trying to get you to fuck him. you don't know who he was, he was certain of it.
but perhaps he was just in denial, too afraid to let someone as good as you be so close to him. you are deserving of more, someone who can be devoted to you, as much as you are to him. he can't bear the thought of you leaving him once he has taken grasp of immortality, growing old without him as he lives on. nor the burden you'll surely carry with him.
that is why he has never made a single move to you, nor acknowledged yours. he adores you from afar, breaking his own heart by keeping himself close to you despite knowing he can never be with you—his mission won't allow it. he can't let it happen.
but oh, when you hold him so tenderly in your arms, caressing his cheeks with your thumb and kissing him so sweetly, it feels like the walls he has built specifically to keep you away from his heart, fall apart so easily.
"if you're a monster, then why do you talk so gently to me?" you whisper, and the hairs of his skin stand, sharp nails digging onto your skin. "so careful of my body, asking me for consent, even though you're salivating in hunger."
the smile you gave him made baizhu fall in love with you all over again, grabbing his hand and intertwining your fingers with his. "i think you are quite nice, person that i totally don't recognize." a soft chuckle escapes your lips, and it eases him how comfortable you were, worries melting into nothingness. "so please, tell me what i need to do to help you."
ah, he was so weak for you. baizhu wraps an arm around your neck, pulling you impossibly closer to him, capturing your lips once against with his. "then you better start fucking me," he demands, his other hand scoops the slick his body has been producing wildly, copious amounts in his hand and coating your dick with it himself.
you lean down to his ear, letting him hear all of the lewd sounds that escape your lips as he squeezes your length, stroking it with his experienced hands, and grazing his nails on a thick, bulging vein that makes you whimper onto his neck. you quickly caught on that he enjoyed your noises. his wetness felt cool on your throbbing cock, the squelch of each movement of his hand making you tremble above him, burying your nose onto his shoulder as he coos your name and played with your cock.
maybe you were just extra sensitive because you were... inexperienced... but there was something odd about his wetness. it made your dick tingle, ache, and burned fervidly. you felt lightheaded all of a sudden, your mind and body screaming at you to just have your cock inside of him.
it must be one of his succubus traits, you gulped nervously.
you were so cute, so pliant, despite having him underneath you. a surge of pride swells in his chest, digging his thumb onto your weeping slit, thoroughly satisfied at the moan that came from your trembling lips. he felt himself grow hungrier when you moved your head back, gazing at him with enchanted, half-lidded eyes, flushed cheeks, and parted lips. baizhu has never felt so grateful for his night vision.
when his skillful hands lined up your cock to his hole, parting his glistening folds with your pulsating tip, you stop him for a moment, brows furrowed worriedly. "w-wait," you breathe, voice wavering, "what about you?"
baizhu merely laughs at your concern, cooing at you and caressing your cheeks, to which you leaned against his touch. "oh baby, you think i'd come here unprepared?" he chuckles, tone teasing as he pushes your cockhead into his awaiting hole while he thumbs your skin to soothe you, softening the creases that formed on your face. "now go ahead, put it in me, darling."
baizhu had bite down his bottom lip until he bled to stop himself from screaming, his back arched at the burning stretch as you slowly plunged your fat cock into his hole. no matter how much he prepared himself to take you, he still found himself getting split open by your sheer girth. he didn't expect you to be so big, his gummy walls fluttering around your throbbing cock.
you moaned, louder than before, when you bottomed out, patiently waiting for him to adjust to your length, like the gentleman you were, but you were grinding your hips against his. you clung tightly onto baizhu, overwhelmed at the warmth that surrounded your virgin cock as his pussy clamps down on you, sucking you in deeper.
all the while baizhu felt like he was high above the clouds, being stuffed full just by your dick inside of him—his body was elated, forked tongue poking out between his lips as he stared up at your eyes, full of lust and desire.
cursing underneath your breath, you grew weak on the knees, the blistering heat slowly spreading all over your body; from your stomach, crawling upwards and onto your chest, to the very tips of your toes. it was almost paralyzing, his insides squeezing your poor, sensitive cock, wrapped in mind-breaking euphoria.
"that's it," he sighs, pressing kisses all over your face, reassuring, though amused. "such a good boy, already so fucked out by just penetrating me?" baizhu smirks, his fingers playing with the curves of your face. you whine at his words, very embarrassed as you bury your face in his neck.
"hah- this feels-" you swallow a mouthful of saliva, panting and groaning at the foreign sensations, twitching and pulsing deep inside of him, "all i can think about is fucking you—it's your doing, right?"
baizhu bats his eyelashes innocently at you, tilting his head as he hums. "oh darling, you can't blame me for every nasty thought that invades your mind," he purrs teasingly, grinning playfully when you give him a huff. "i am flattered, though."
it didn't take long before baizhu told you to start moving. it started off slow, gentle, and unsure, eyes searching for baizhu's guidance. it made his heart soar at how adorable you were, pouting as you sloppily thrust into him, exerting much effort to not lose yourself in the pleasure. you wanted to please him, so attentive and caring to his body.
don't worry, baizhu is more than happy to tell you what to do. he taught you many things you never knew before, to angle your dick just right, hitting a spot buried deep inside of him that made him curl his toes and cry out in delight—to ram your fat cock into his sopping wet cunt as he clenches on you, bucking your hips fast and hard.
baizhu throws his head back, smiling and clawing at your biceps, leaving red, angry scratches on them. he moans your name, nothing but praise coming out of his plump lips and drowning your thoughts with addictive lust. "you're fucking into me soooo nicely, darling~" he gasped when you kept precisely hitting his sensitive spot, his walls spasming and convulsing around your ravishing cock.
you grasped his thighs, gripping on them so tightly it's bound to leave bruises as you follow his every order, fucking him just how he liked, the loud slapping of skin on skin filling your once peaceful bedroom. it turns you on further on how vile the wet squelch it makes at each thrust you give. you held onto him for your dear life, fucking him with all your strength, body trembling from the unbearable pleasure.
moaning and whimpering, your head hung as drool dripped down onto his chest, body compelled to keep moving. it felt so good, each drag of your cock inside of his velvety walls felt like fire onto your skin, each squeeze and grind, it's making you mad, completely hooked on the feeling.
"such an obedient pup," baizhu coos and you let out a whine at his praise, eyes wide and glittering with unshed tears, and his heart skips a beat when he saw how easily fucked out you were. "does it feel good? hm? my pussy feels good around your cock?" you nod vigorously, leaning closer to him and angling yourself to reach even deeper. it made baizhu take a sharp intake of air, moaning obscenely into your ear.
"f-fuuckk! hgnn~ c-c'mon, use your words~" he smiles when you choke on a moan, never stopping your movements even for a second. "you're a good boy, aren't you? i know you can do it, talk to me~"
"s-stop-" you heaved, voice garbled as you tried to speak between your filthy sounds, nails digging into his skin. his voice was like honey to your ears, drowning in the thick viscousness of his sickeningly sweet words, making it difficult for you to properly think. it was all too much, and he wasn't making it easy for you.
"oh? you don't like praise?" his golden eyes shone brightly, and his nails grazed your skin painfully, but you reveled in the pain, panting, and shaking as baizhu cupped your face into his hands. "how about i call you a filthy whore instead? wanting to fuck a succubus that could drain your life away~" he whispers into your ear with such a haughty lilt in his voice, tongue licking your earlobe.
even though he was getting fucked by your fat cock, drilling into his insides until it all felt like numbing mush, moaning in delight as he wraps his legs impossibly tighter around you, keeping you close and never letting you go, he has you under his control. it was as if he owned your body, and you would only obey him.
it made your head fuzzy just thinking about it.
"you like being told what to do, hm? like some mutt?"
his words were like electric shocks down your spine, you couldn't help but pound harder into his warm, addicting cunt, a cry leaving your lips when he clamped down onto your cock once more. like a hand, gripping tightly onto something he owns, and in this case, your cock belongs to his pussy.
"oh my!" he grits his teeth as he lets out a long, drawn-out moan, pulling your head to his chest as he rolls his eyes back. "shit, hnff- t-that god you more excited, huh? so pussy drunk that you're only thinking with your dick~"
suddenly, you let out a shout, squeezing your eyes shut and burying as deep as you could inside of baizhu, a tear rolling down your cheek as you shot thick ropes of your cum straight into his starving womb. and oh, baizhu took it all, a small, joyous yes yes yes! leaving his lips as he moved his hips against yours, not giving you a moment's rest as he fucks himself onto you.
you didn't know what came over you after you orgasmed into his welcoming pussy, but when the mark on his womb glowed a vibrant green, your body kept moving on its own, despite the sting of overstimulation overcoming your senses. you fucked him, again and again, pressing the pad of your thumb against his clit and fiercely rubbing it as you burrow into him, mind blank.
your body shivered, sobbing and drooling as you absentmindedly followed baizhu's every command, twitching and burning from the numbing pleasure, yet your body refused to stop, even after you've come numerous amounts of times inside of him.
baizhu's hair became a mess as he greedily took every load you'd spilled, absolutely obsessed at the warmth of your seed filling up his insides and forming a creamy ring on your cock. you looked so handsome crying, begging him for a break, and that you can't take it anymore.
despite this, you let him milk your cock for all it's worth, pumping him full until it leaks out of his hole, his ankles were now resting on your shoulders. you were so lost in the pleasure, hiccuping as you cum again for the nth time.
just one more, he promised, though he pushed you back, turning your bodies around so baizhu was straddling your lap. he began to ride you, with expert movements that had you mewling, your arm covering your face, moaning into the night, holding no regards for your neighbors through your thin walls.
his nails marked your chest, making it bleed along his scratches, grinding his hips onto yours. gods, you felt so fucking good, it was difficult for him to pull away. your length and girth were just perfect, his blood boiling in thrill and excitement just by having you inside of him. he wanted more and more, drinking in as much as you could give him. your essence was just so delectable, irresistible. it was all he could ever want to eat.
you moan in sync, watching baizhu as he arches his back so prettily on top of you, creaming around your cock. you could tell he was just as sensitive as you were, but his hips ceased to stop. shakily, you reached for his tail, which possessively curled around your fingers.
gently, as you always are, you kiss the heart-shaped tip of his tail, watery eyes, so unfocused, but stared into baizhu's eyes, so full of tenderness that it snapped him out of his frenzied stupor.
baizhu gasps, cradling your face into his hands as he frets over you when your head falls, catching your breath as if you've run a marathon. "oh archons," he calls your name, shaking you lightly, "are you okay!? im so sorry, i didn't mean to- i got carried away!" hearing the distress in his voice, you only put your hand atop of his, kissing his palms and giving him an adoring smile.
"m'fine," you rasp, and before baizhu knows it, there was a faint click! right beside him, and light engulfs your room. your eyes light up when you finally see him, his eyes wide in shock. "hah, knew it was you."
"you-i-" instead of reacting how he always thought you would, as all others have, you grabbed his hands, and pressed long, loving kisses on each knuckle. baizhu's stomach was doing flips at each kind gesture, and he was now acutely aware of how he could feel your seed sloshing in his womb whenever he moved. his cheeks flush in embarrassment. "y-you weren't supposed to see me!" he glares at you, fangs bared threateningly.
though you can't bring yourself to fear him—not when he's panting, covered in sweat that gleamed at the orange light from your lamp, his face red, and eyes still full of carnal desire. but you know, behind his hunger, was nothing but love, adoring and fragile. "it's okay," you whisper as you sit yourself up, leaning back against the headboard, "it's okay to be seen."
your fingers twirled around a loose strand of his hair, planting a kiss on it while your eyes were on him, other hand caressing the ever-glowing mark on his swelling tummy. "please, let me see you." you kiss his jawline, and baizhu groans when you press onto his abdomen, so full—both of your lust and love. "let me love you."
his eyes burned as he let you wrap your arms around him, engulfing him in a hug he has long yearned from you. "go ahead, love," his skin crawls at the pet name, rolling so naturally from your tongue, so heavenly to his ears. "i know you still need more. i can take it."
baizhu has a lot of worries, especially concerning you. but at that moment, when you held him so tenderly, connected, with nothing but love in your gaze and a smile on your lips as you kissed him—it felt like everything was alright.
the world was nothing, and it was just the two of you, in each other's arms, lips locked; nothing could separate the two of you.
he may have fears, ones that will probably never go away for as long as he lives. but with you saying his name so softly, caressing his sensitive skin, and telling him it was okay for him to keep taking from you, despite your creeping exhaustion—he wants to have you by his side for a little longer, if not, forever.
because with you, baizhu thinks that everything will be fine.
"...just say you want more of me," he replies, hiding his face from you, to which you merely laughed at. "you freak... letting a succubus fuck you..."
"please, stop ignoring my heartfelt confessions and countering them with something mean," you pout, your thumb wiping away the stray tear that trailed down his cheek.
baizhu just pins you down, grinding his hips and making you roll your eyes, mouth open from a breathless moan. "keep quiet pet, i'm not done with you." he threatens, but you just smile,
"i love you."
gods, he hates how this all feels so normal with you, his poor heart that was boarded up in the beginning, all so vulnerable and raw before you.
but perhaps,
"...i love you too."
everything will be quite alright.
2K notes · View notes
themotherofhorses · 1 year
Text
pairing: aemond targaryen x handmaid!reader
warnings: explicit language. secret relationship. nsfw smut. lactation kink. breeding kink. mentions of previous pregnancies. absolute fluffy and simpy shit because aemond is head-over-heels for his handmaid.
notes: okay so no one asked for this shit, but please enjoy this lil smutty drabble I randomly decided to whip up before my pilates. thanks. love y'all. mwuah.
his handmaid's tales | main masterlist
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Prince Aemond prefers his nighttime baths with heat.
It is something you’ve learned as his personal handmaid.
“Mine is the house of the dragon,” he once told you while watching you fill-up the bath with hot water from the kitchen. It was your first night acting as his servant, and you were terrified of making any foolish mistake. But there was a proud smirk on his lips when he said it and a strange gleam in his eye too. You had mentioned your fear of accidentally burning the prince aloud, and he shook his head at that, demanding a hot bath. “It can never be too hot for a Targaryen. The fire is in my blood, sweet girl.”  
And now you empty the last of the hot kitchen water into the tub, slowly running your fingers through the water before reaching for the fragrant oils- new ones from Essos, gifted to the family by an old Tyroshi merchant. The older prince liked the way they smelled. So did you.
Soon comes a soft knock at the door. “Is my bath ready?” Prince Aemond asks, standing beneath the archway. He is without his leather eyepatch, and his sapphire catches the dim candle lighting. You stand to your feet and bow your head, nodding. “Good,” he mumbles, tugging his cotton tunic over his head and unbuttoning his pants, “I trust it is still hot?”
“Yes, my prince, just the way you like. I had just finished scenting the waters before you arrived,” you say, taking his hand to help him into the tub. True to your words, the water is scalding hot, but Aemond neither flinches nor cries out; instead, he sighs in delight as he sinks himself further into the water. You wash his long, silver-pale hair and gently comb out the tangles and snags, all in silence as he keeps his head tilted and eyes closed.
It is a soft moment, intimate and peaceful, and you notice the hint of a grin tugging at the corner of his lips.
“Do you wish for me to wash your back as well, my prince?” you ask.
He shakes his head.
When his hair is clean, you sit back and gently undo the knot around your neck that holds up your plain servant’s gown. Aemond twists to watch as the cloth falls down your shoulders, leaving you bare and beautiful before his very eye. He finds himself unable to tear his gaze away from your breasts, still heavy with milk and incredibly sensitive and soft and heavenly to behold. “C’mere,” he whispers, pulling you close to bury his face within your chest.
“You are so beautiful,” he hums, glancing up at you while brushing a finger against your swollen nipple. “The most beautiful woman in the world,” and he brings it to his hot mouth, sucking at it. You gasp, entangling your hand in his wet hair as you press his face closer, arching your back. His hand tweaks and pinches your other nipple, stirring a flood of high-pitched, loud moans and whimpers. “Beautiful and all fucking mine,” he slaps at your breast- once, twice, three times before switching his mouth to suckle there. Your milk soon floods his mouth, and the delicious taste leaves his poor, aching cock too hard and damned painful for him to ignore.
Aemond has you suddenly on your feet, flushed and trembling, poor knees ready to buckle at any second, before guiding you into the bath. Like him, you do not flinch or wince from the heat, and it makes him so fucking proud, settling you over him and grabbing at your hips, too impatient, wanting nothing more than to sink himself into you.
“My seed has done you well,” he blusters in awe, marveling at your beauty. “My sons have given you their fire as well, it seems.”
You smile, rocking your hips back and forth. “I am merely your humble servant, my prince,” you giggle, dropping your face low to collect his lips in a hot, wet kiss. Meanwhile, your thighs shake, and your pretty face soon scrunches up in pure bliss as you take his fat cock deep in your belly with little bounces. “Who am I to deny my prince…!” you gasp out, gripping his shoulders as he wraps his own arms tight around you, jackhammering into your pussy. It causes water to splatter outside the tub in tiny puddles.
“No,” he grunts, sliding a hand up to your neck to press you downwards as close to him as possible. Your forehead flattens against his as you do your best to match his thrusts, eyes locking with his. Aemond’s stare- it is intense and passionate, and you cannot break away. “No,” he repeats through a hiss, knotting his other hand within your damp hair, feeling your heavy breasts brushing against his chest. “Not just a-a fucking servant,” he says, slipping a hand between your thighs to find your clit with his thumb, “You’re my fucking everything. All fucking mine. Imma put another babe in your belly so that everyone fucking knows who you belong to.”
Aemond looks down to see the slightest bulge of his cock, pushing in and out of your soaking cunt. You hiccup, pretty eyes red and teary and glazed-over as you nod feverishly, kissing him again. “Please-please-please-please,” you babble, heavy pants against his mouth as you unashamedly plead and beg and cry, “I-I want- I need it- please, please, I need it again.”
His thrusts quicken at the mental image of you with another swollen belly, trailing after him as his devoted and sweet handmaid. Once again, you’ll be glowing with motherhood, absolutely gorgeous, leaving lowborn bastards to stare at him with sheer envy. “People are going to look at you, my sweet girl,” he pants, his thrusts growing sloppily as he feels himself ready to cum. “They’re gonna know that babe in your belly is mine. All mine. Your back is gonna ache, and your tits will leak, and it will be because of me.”
His hot mouth glides across your jawline, down to your neck, leaving countless bites and bruises. You’re much too beautiful like this. “I want our next one to look just like you,” he mutters, pinching your clit between two fingers. You shriek, flinging your head back at the pleasure spiking up your spine. “Can you do that for me, sweet girl? My lady, my love. Give me a babe that looks like you?” He slams his mouth down on yours again in a heavy and wet kiss, sucking on your tongue.
When he pulls away, his fingertips run across your bottom lip as he leans to kiss your forehead, feeling your cunt tighten around his cock. A new babe will soon join his precious twins sleeping in the nursery. He smiles at the thought. “I want a daughter,” he whispers, “-who looks exactly like my pretty handmaid so that the entire fucking world knows how much I love her.”  
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wheneclipsefalls · 9 months
Text
Withered
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Beautiful Adult Neteyam photo by the wonderful @cinetrix
Pairing: Alpha Neteyam x Beta Fem Omatikaya Reader
Synopsis: You and Neteyam have opposite lives. He thrives in the daylight of possibilities while you are forced to the shadows. You are sure that the right course of action would be letting the future Olo'eyktan go. Neteyam is less convinced.
Based on a request from my 🥔 anon
Warnings: aged up characters, aged up neteyam, angst, health problems, explicit smut, dirty talk, crying, miscommunication, p in v, virgin reader, first time, omegaverse, alpha/beta relationship dynamic, heat, sickness, 18+ only MDNI
Tanhi: star/little star I Yawne: beloved I Sevin: pretty I Mawey: calm
A/N: I can't tell you all enough how grateful I am for the hype and many comments that have been around this story just from that small sneak peek I posted. This ended up being a lot longer than I ever anticipated but I had a blast writing it. Please let me know what you think. I love hearing from y'all!
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For many the sun is a symbol of warmth, peace, and solace. The bright rays enwrap Na’vi of all ages in the glow of Eywa’s love. The rise of morning light represents a new day, another chance for adventure and possibilities. When the illuminating glow of yellow sunshine transforms into streaks of vibrant purples and pinks, it indicates a time for families to come together and tuck in for the night. 
However, for you, your day truly begins at the first glow of bioluminescence. Eclipse is your time to explore the world.
You were born with an almost unheard of disease. It only took a few days of your infant body breaking out into abnormal rashes for Tsahik to realize something was wrong. Exposure of more than a few minutes to sunshine causes detrimental effects to your body. For this reason, you are forced to avoid the vibrant glow of the sun. 
From that moment on you have lived your life almost nocturnally. On lucky days the clouds protect you from the harmful UV rays. Rain has come to be your favorite weather as it allows you an escape from your hut. 
Despite these difficulties you have always strived to remain positive. You thank your parents for their gracious attitudes that inspire you to look for the silver lining in all situations. Sure you can not sunbathe or prowl the forest during sunny days but no one knows the forest at Eclipse as well as you do. Your knowledge has come in handy more than a few times, being asked to guide night hunts with some of the most notorious warriors in the clan.
This is where you met Neteyam.
The firstborn of the infamous Toruk Makto and your future Olo’eyktan, you originally assumed he would have no interest in interacting with you. You knew him from afar, hearing the word spread of his kindness and diligence when it came to helping those around him. His alpha status only served to bring a larger gaggle of girls practically falling at his feet. As a beta and suffering from a rare condition, you naturally took yourself out of the run up. You were confident he would choose some sweet and knowledgeable omega that would be the perfect tsahik. 
However, your assumptions quickly crumbled as he progressively paid attention to you more and more throughout these night hunts. Instead of joining the rest of the alpha warriors gathering to share a strong drink after a successful kill, he would opt to check in with you. You were shy at first, unsure of how to act around such an influential member of the clan. However, there was something about those golden orbs and soft smile that quickly set you at ease. 
You still remember the first time you had sustained a small injury during these hunts. It was nothing more than a shallow slash to your forearm, but Neteyam had insisted on carefully wrapping it himself. You gushed over him like an idiot, reminding him that it was unnecessary but  he showed his stubborn side that day. 
At first you thought it was your own overactive imagination noticing the frequency of night hunts he signed up for increase, but eventually it had become every single night. No matter how boned-tired he was from a day of full Olo’eyktan training, he would beam at the sight of your small form. His scent was something that seemed to constantly enrapture your senses. The heavy essence of pine and hormonal swings was so much stronger than yours. It took some getting used to. The first few nights you were bashful to come home and find evidence of your arousal dampening your loincloth. 
Still, you told yourself it was just a simple crush that you had to live with. It took weeks for you to even consider the possibility of Neteyam showing interest in you. He had been consistent in bringing you out of your shell, getting you to talk about everything from your family to the fondest hope and dreams in your heart. Oftentimes he would stay back behind after the hunt to help you join him sitting on an overarching thick branch (you were grateful for the darkness of eclipse that hid your blush each time he effortlessly hoisted you up with large hands gently holding your waist) and chat away into the night. 
It was only when the gifts began that you gave these interactions a second thought. It had started small with simple flowers and fruits he had encountered throughout the day. However, they slowly became more intricate. The first time he brought you a small woven bracelet of sparkling gems, you had been gobsmacked. 
“Like the night sky. The only thing appropriate for my tanhi.” He had said, making you almost choke on your own spit. Tahni- little star: a nickname he had coined for you after the first week. A fitting term for someone that only knew the night sky. Still, it was the first time he had ever called you his. The terminology was not lost on you. 
When the sun arose once more and you had retired back to your protected hut, those words had kept you up, your small fingers twiddling with the bracelet. 
Taking your acceptance of the small gift, Neteyam had become even more bold with his courting. Before you knew it he was bringing a meal with him for you before every hunt. You had tried to decline the thoughtful gesture but he would not take no for an answer. 
“Someone has to make sure you eat, tanhi.” 
There was no fighting the alpha on this, so you graciously took the meals each night. He smiled proudly as you moaned in satisfaction of the carefully seasoned meat he had killed and prepared for you. Another testament to the mighty warrior and beneficial mate he is. 
You started to think that the eldest Sully was simply a flirt, or perhaps such a kind person that his actions came off as romantic. However, there was one instance that finally tipped you to accepting his affections. It was a particularly successful hunt, dragging home a thanator, when he had slowed down to your pace. Talking about anything and everything under the night sky, your breath was practically stolen from your lungs when he reached out to tuck a strand of your dark hair behind your ear. 
However innocent the gesture was, it was the lingering of his hand running down your neck that caused your heart to bash against your rib cage violently. A simple brush that had left his scent to coalesce with yours. An essence that would keep other suitors away. Out of habit, you mentally went to play it off as a simple accident, but the crooked smirk plastered across his face did not allow you. There was a primal satisfaction seated in those golden orbs, one that caused a pool of arousal to gather in your core. 
He knew what he had done. 
Neteyam was proud of it. 
His affection was untethered from that point forward. Accidental brushes of fingers had turned into blatant hand holding. The alpha never missed an opportunity to press a warm hand to the small of your back, guiding you through the terrain, or wrap an arm around your waist in order to steady you when walking over uneven forest floor. 
“What kind of alpha would I be if I let you get hurt?” 
He had spoken in response to your inquiry, a cheeky grin plastered across his face.
Falling for Neteyam was easy. Too easy. It was keeping yourself back from jumping into his arms or melting into his embraces that was difficult. No matter how strange and suggestive his behavior had been, you didn’t want to get your hopes up. After all, there was no saying what he got up to during the day. For all you knew he could be taking omegas out every day and weaving sweet gifts for them too. 
So you had decided to do what was best for everyone and take yourself out of the situation before something embarrassing could happen. You declined the request to accompany the hunting party and instead went to spend some more time with your family. If your parents noticed the difference in your appearance they did not show it. They were always good at giving you space, respecting your independence as an adult (although your mother did go out of her way to place a comforting hand on your shoulder, a silent way to express her understanding and love). Neither of them knew about Neteyam at the time, it was easier that way. 
This fact only heightened their surprise when they saw Toruk Makto’s eldest son approaching their small gathering. You can still remember the intent gaze that Neteyam pierced you with. Your heart hammered out of your chest, hands fidgeting with the moss beneath you nervously. Neteyam signaled the traditional greeting to your parents before respectfully asking your father if he could borrow you for a moment. 
They were caught off guard, your dad turning back to send you a curious look, but naturally neither wanted to decline the Omatikaya prince. 
Once the two of you were finally alone, Neteyam immediately sprang into action. He grabbed your biceps and used that hold to turn you from side to side as he scanned your form. His intense inspection had blood rushing to your cheeks. 
“Neteyam, what are you doing? I thou-”
“Where are you injured?” You twitched when he reached a hand out to inspect your flicking tail too. Confusion swarmed within you. You had sputtered and struggled to put together a full sentence.
“It has been three days, Tanhi. I blew one day off as exhaustion or a fluke and the second as pure coincidence but surely only an injury would keep you away from the hunt for three days.” His eyes finally met yours again when there was no wound to be found. His tall frame had towered over yours as he reached out to cup your cheek. 
That familiar warmth and adoration you had for him had returned within an instant. 
You stepped back, successfully out of his grasp.
“I’m fine.” You replied simply. 
His tail swatted in the humid air and those golden orbs had squinted into slits. The focused attention of that look full of suspicion was enough to hold you down to your spot. You swallowed the lump in your throat and as you tried desperately to keep the fidgeting at bay. It was one of the few times you were grateful to be beta because surely an omega would shrivel under the pressure of his looming presence. 
“I don’t like when you lie to me, Tahni. Now tell me why I’ve had to go without my little star for three whole days.” Neteyam placed his hands sternly upon his hips, ears twitching forward as if preparing to take in your explanation. An explanation that you felt could not be shared. Doing so was bound to undermine your plans, completely destroying the efforts that had been made. 
“The group seems to be more than sufficient without my guidance.” You don’t dare to meet his eyes, your own orbs trained at the ground instead. In a moment’s notice his sculpted body was once again inches away from yours. His warmth came off of him in waves, along with the heady aura of alpha pheromones. 
You couldn’t hold back the shiver that ran down your spine when he placed heavy hands on your shoulders and bent over your frame till you could feel his calm breath against your ear. Neteyam’s tail wrapped around your thigh. A part of your brain told you to run, understanding the alluring danger that awaited you, while the other yearned to curl up against his impressive physique. 
You couldn’t understand how any omega managed to be around this male without completely dropping to their knees.
Suddenly you had some sympathy for the girls that had always fawned over him. 
“Tell me the truth, sevin.” The heated words tickled at your ears and made your heart skip a beat. It was foolish to think that there was any chance of lying to Neteyam, the mighty warrior that walked with the confidence of the supernatural. 
So you did.
You had scrambled to messily explain how it would be best if the two of you spent less time together. Unfortunately this unrehearsed synopsis included an approach that painted yourself as the foolish beta with a crush on the Omatikaya prince and therefore unable to handle herself around him. It was not the perspective you had hoped for, but it was the only one that could have been presented in your state of jumbled thought. 
Neteyam shook his head, an almost fond smile upon his lips. 
“Tanhi, you really do not like to make things easy for me.” A bitter laugh escaped his throat. The sound put you slightly on edge but there was no trace of anger in his expression. Amusement was easily perceivable in the raise of his hairless eyebrows. He had taken your humiliating and pathetic explanation in stride, in fact, he had found humor in it. 
“I thought I’ve made myself clear.” You were swooped into the encirclement of his arms in one quick motion. You squeaked and braced yourself against the warm muscles of his abdomen. “You are the mate I seek.” 
His words had thrown you into a spiral, your heartstrings plucking into rhythms of heightened emotion. It was almost too much to take in. A part of you still found security in denying these bold claims but there had been too much evidence at that point. Neteyam Sully had in fact been courting you. 
His head lowered, nuzzling at your face until you finally looked up at him. Your lips were only a breath apart. 
“If you’ll have me.” Neteyam whispered. 
There was no fighting the longings of your heart at that rate. That night you had agreed to his courting and within a month the two of you had been madly in love and preparing to officially mate. 
The process was faster, seemingly faster than anything else in your life. Night had always slowed you down from progressing in the normal rhythm of Na’vi milestones, but Neteyam had broken that pattern for you. 
You can still remember the vivid sensation of his tendrils connecting with your own. Those sparks of electricity that had created a direct line to his innermost feelings and thoughts. There was great solace to be found in the surging feelings of love and adoration he had for you, something you had been able to tap into. Still, nothing could ever compare with the way you felt for Neteyam. 
He’s your world. Your light. Your sun. 
Being with him feels like finally having a taste of those golden rays. You can see it in his smile. In the shake of his shoulders when his laughter trickles from soft lips. In the unashamed sparkle that overtakes his eyes in a coating whenever they land on you after a long day of training. 
Neteyam has become your world in only a matter of a few months. It is hard to imagine how you went so many years without this unbreakable connection between the two of you. Each night you wake up to the warm embrace of your mate who has come home from a long day of training. Soft kisses are placed along your eyelids, cheeks, and nose until your thick lashes flutter and you regain consciousness. 
The searing envious looks of other females can be felt at your back when the two of you join the rest of the clan for dinner each night, but it is only white noise in the presence of your handsome mate guiding you with a hand to the small of your back. In fact it becomes less than a passing memory when Neteyam goes on to share the events of the day in great detail, usually pulling out a tucked away gift he has found for you along the trails of his adventures. 
There is so much hidden beneath that emanating exterior of perfection that Neteyam upholds. He strips away those layers only for you, usually among the flowering meadow the two of you lay in while stargazing. The stories often end with your mate trailing off into a groggy murmur until the air fills with the sounds of his sleeping breaths. You prefer to stay tucked against him for a while longer, letting the moment last before you must wake him and shoo the mighty warrior back home for some much needed rest. 
While he sleeps you venture from the hut to forage and hunt, although Neteyam prefers to accompany you during dangerous hunts. You decide that what he doesn’t know can’t hurt him. He is known to be an overprotective alpha anyway. Once food has been secured and your adventures have come to a close, you slip back into the darkened hut before the first break of dawn. Those specially made thick curtains are the difference between life and death for you. 
Although the tent has been sufficient for years, Neteyam continues to add to its layers. He is constantly worrying about the vulnerabilities of the hut, convinced that one slip could bring catastrophic consequences to his mate. So he works with his father to constantly rebuild and strengthen the exterior walls. There are times where you remind him of how unnecessary these actions are but Neteyam is undeterred by these conversations. So you let your mate continue his projects. If it brings him peace of mind to obsess over the structure then it must be doing some good. 
Things are great for the first month. Nothing sexual occurs during those first few weeks of being newly mated, out of respect to you. There is no denying that Neteyam has had experience in the ways of pleasuring females but you on the other hand have never been close to intimate with someone else. As a couple you decide to take things slow. However, you can not help but admire the restraint Neteyam shows when you catch the shift of his pheromones into that of lust or see the tightness of his loincloth after a particularly long make out session. 
Were it any other alpha you are sure that the time would have come for him to become impatient and work towards persuading you to go further with him. However, Neteyam knows that you are shy and nervous. He puts your needs before his own and constantly assures you that he is happy to wait so long as you feel comfortable when the time is right. 
Your apprehension has slowly been melting away. The soft caresses that travel along your form sends a burning thrill that is exotic to you. Moments where you are brave enough to straddle his lap while kissing, the friction of his groin against your core is electric. These new feelings have been quickly festering and building inside of you. The nerves have slowly morphed into alluring curiosity. It has been becoming harder to hold back.
For this reason, you’ve decided to tell Neteyam tonight that you are ready. Finally, the bond created through tsaheylu will be strengthened and confirmed by the intertwining of each other’s bodies. 
The last hints of sunshine have disappeared behind the moon. This time you wake before Neteyam has a chance to come wake you up himself. The nerves that bundle into a coil in your stomach have kept you from sleeping in so you decide to seek him out yourself. It shouldn’t be long till he is back from an exhibition with Jake. 
The village is lively with reuniting families after a prosperous day of duties. It's a familiar sight that has always brought a warmth to your heart, especially that of small children running to their mothers or fathers with grabby hands. There are times where you imagine sending your own child to wobble excitedly towards Neteyam, spun through the air by the mighty warrior that you are lucky enough to call your mate. 
High in the trees, hidden by the walls of a family hut you hear the familiar voice of Lo’ak. A smile tugs at your lips, confident that Neteyam is sure to be with his brother. However, that excitement is dampened slightly when the responding voice is not your mate’s but Unip’s. 
“I just don’t know how long he thinks this can go on.” Unip sighs.
“Well you know how Neteyam is. He will find a way to succeed and if not, he will die trying.” Lo’ak snorts, but there is a hint of concern in his nonchalant tone. It’s a timber that makes you halt in your tracks and ears twitch to hear the conversation. 
“It’s only going to get worse, you know. Once he is Olo’eyktan, half a night’s rest will not be enough anymore. He already looks half dead.” 
There is a silence that follows, only filled by the sound of your own heart thumping. 
“You’re never going to convince him otherwise, bro.” Lo’ak responds, amused tone faltering greatly. 
Stepping forward, you curve yourself around a thick tree trunk in effort to discreetly get a better look at the pair. Lo’ak’s back is facing towards you but even from this low vantage point, the lines of his tense muscle are easy to spot. Your golden eyes have become specialized for seeing in the dark after all these years, allowing a better image of his form and mannerisms. You are used to reading people’s expressions and body language with only the dim glow of eclipse. 
“Stubborn skxawng.” Unip shakes his head before leaning against the sturdy trunk. His scowl is illuminated by the soft red glow of a patch of sprouting flowers. The sight makes your stomach twist. 
Have things truly gotten this bad?
“Neteyam won’t leave her. You and I both know that. All that can be done is make peace with it.” Lo’ak shrugs his shoulders.
“And watch him turn into an old man in a few years. Those bags are sure to be bad for his pretty boy appearance.” Unip quips back, causing both the males to break out into laughter. 
The tension visibly eases between them but you are not laughing. In fact, you can feel the beginning of those twisting nerves pushing bile up your throat. All joyful anticipation has washed from your features, replaced with dread and horror. 
Your feet drum against the forest floor, stuck on autopilot and effectively taking you home. The beginning of streaming tears threaten to drop past your eyes. 
It’s true that Neteyam has been tired but it isn’t till now that you reply back your interactions and his recent appearance. Those dark circles aren’t as prevalent in the light of eclipse, perhaps they are more telling in daylight. Neteyam has a way of falling asleep in a matter of seconds once hitting the mat but you have always assumed that to be a part of his nature. Some people are naturally deep sleepers. 
However, now, all of these signs appear in a different light for you. Each conversation is played back in your head but of course Neteyam has never let his weaknesses show, especially ones that could be brought on by you. You know this and yet it is only now that you scold yourself for not being more perceptive, for not seeking advice and perspective from those around him.
His family and friends have an advantage that you can not achieve. Surely they would be the first to notice his changes in demeanor and health. They are the ones watching him work, train, and interact more closely with clan members. You have never been more envious of those walking in the sun in your entire life. This condition has always been a hassle for you but now it has turned into true heartache. 
This weakness that Eywa has given you is no longer just affecting you but now your perfect mate. This disease has spread to him in a way you scold yourself for not anticipating. 
How is he supposed to become Olo’eyktan, protecting and guiding the People all while being tethered to you? 
Eywa has destined your life to be forever restricted to the shadows, but that is not Neteyam’s path. 
You can spot the familiar dark canvases of your hut in the trees up ahead. No doubt Neteyam has already returned home at this point, if not then he will soon. Less than an hour earlier you were ecstatic to see him but now the thought of seeing those tired eyes makes you want to curl up into a ball. 
Needing more time to process, you opt to take a different route, one that leads to a secluded waterfall. Safe in the greenery and now sitting in the shallow area of the glowing water, you take a moment to breathe. Water trickles into a soothing pattern that has been associated with your memories in this found sanctuary. 
Truly, none of this should be a surprise. This ailment has been the driving course of your life thus far and you’ve grown used to it, letting go of certain aspects that are not meant for you. Neteyam is just another one of those. He is beyond your reach. Keeping him here would only hurt the clan. They need a leader that can be with them, present both physically and mentally. For the greater good it is time to let him become that Olo’eyktan. 
Perhaps you would have accepted this fact and stuck to it earlier on were it not for the great love you hold for him. Neteyam Sully holds your heart and soul effortlessly in his hands. There will never be another that lights up your life the same way he does and truth be told, you don’t want there to be. Forever your first and only love. 
Regardless, the time for being selfish is over.
Some Na’vi have the honor of dying a warrior’s death, going down in the name of protecting the People. Others sacrifice their time and energy serving the clan daily in the name of Eywa. You have been kept back from either of these duties so it makes sense that giving up the future Olo’eyktan would be your contribution. 
After all, how are you supposed to serve as Tsahik with your limitations?
This makes sense. Your brian tells you this is the logical solution. Life will go on. You will return back to a life that you have come to be content with over the years and Neteyam will find a proper mate that can serve The People by his side. 
Still, it is impossible to ignore the cracks that are slowly developing in your heart. It is difficult to imagine a life without your true love. The thought alone has a sob crawling up your throat. This sound however is morphed into a strange shriek when a pair of muscular arms suddenly grasp and pull you back against a hard chest.
The water splashes around the two of you and you can feel the rumble of Neteyam’s laughter as you are awkwardly shifted in his arms. 
“Baby girl, you are really off your game today.” He teases fondly before nuzzling his face into the curve of your neck. An efficient shuffle has you more familiarly settled between the corded muscle of his toned thighs. Instinctually you lean back against him. 
“What? Nothing to say in your defense?” 
“Oh yeah uh just tired.” You lamely respond. 
“Silly Tanhi, today has barely begun.”
For you. 
The day has barely begun for you and only you. Every other Na’vi enjoy the blissful alignment of the sun and their ‘days’. You are the outlier. 
Gathering up your courage you finally lift yourself onto your knees and turn to face him. Neteyam grins, but for once you aren’t focused on the gleams of those pearly teeth. Sure enough there are dark circles in a crescent shape beneath his eyes. You reach out to thumb at those dark contrasts. The alpha blissfully misreads this as cupping his cheek. He leans into the touch and his smile broadens. 
“My sweet sevin.” He mumbles. Your stomach tightens back into that knot. Finally, he seems to notice the shift in your demeanor. The smile falters and he places his hand over the one cupping his cheek. The large veined hand completely covers yours. 
“What’s wrong?” 
It seems an impossible task to go through with what you know must be done. A part of you considers holding off, letting it last a little longer before you lose him forever. However, that would only result in a more sleep deprived Omatikaya Prince and the suffering of future Olo’eyktan. 
The longer you take to respond the faster the amusement in those golden orbs declines. He calls your name softly and turns his head to gently peck your palm. 
“I just-” You steady yourself. The words feel like acid crawling up your throat and sitting pressed against him only makes it burn more. Cautiously you detach yourself completely and settle down on the colorful rocks lining the shallow river. 
Neteyam immediately stiffens. His tail curls up into high alert and his ears twitch back slightly, but still you can see the now fake smile plastered on his face. 
“You’re…tired.” It’s a weak start but they are the only words you can force out. 
There is a flicker of surprise in his features but it melts away into a mocking eye roll. The corners of his lips are back to being turned up in a more genuine manner. 
“Well of course I’m a little tired Tanhi. Every mighty warrior should be if he’s done his job right.” The alpha chuckles and you can almost taste the deviation of his pheromones. He confidently reaches out to take your hand in his. “But never too tired to spend time with my sweet little star.” 
The cool rush of water is a dramatic contrast to the warm grasp Neteyam has on your hand. It feels like fire that curls up your veins and pushes tears to the back of your eyes. It’s too painful to be close like this. To see him obliviously flirt and cuddle as if all is well when you know deep down that this will be the last time you feel his touch. 
“No, I mean exhausted. Ma Neteyam-” You shut your mouth tight. That phrase was so easily in your arsenal of vocabulary but it’s time to start training yourself to stop using it. You brush the circles under his eyes again. “You haven’t been getting enough sleep.”
Realization seems to dawn for him.
“Oh you mean my eyes. Lo’ak was teasing me earlier about it. Didn’t think it would bother you so much, sevin, but I’m sure my grandmother has some herbs to lighten the color.” He laughs lightly.
“No, Neteyam. This is bad for you. Staying up every night only to push yourself to the limit the next day. Living in that darkened hut. Spending every last fiber of energy you have spending time with me. Taking care of me-”
“That is what mates do, Tanhi. I don’t want it any other way-”
“I am bad for you!”
The words cut through the air and suddenly every remnant of the playful atmosphere has disappeared. 
“Don’t say stuff like that, Tanhi.” His voice is firm, stern enough to be considered reprimanding. Neteyam eyes darken onto a duller glow. The musky scent of your mate shifts into that of a stronger presence. It’s moments like that that you remember how distinct his second gender is. 
“Neteyam, you know I’m right. This condition is no longer just hurting me but you too. Playing this game of back and forth makes no sense.” 
He sits up straight, back stiff as a rod. It takes everything in you to hold that gaze without bursting into tears and backing down. The flicker of his tail has turned into frantic swatting as his lips curl downwards. 
“What are you trying to say, love?”
You gulp and prepare yourself to utter words that weigh heavy in your heart. 
“We have to end this.” 
Silence drags on. The rush of running water and purring wildlife is the only thing that fills the air. Your tail swishes nervously in the water, causing a slight splash. No matter which way you squint or tilt your head, Neteyam’s expression is unreadable. Even your enhanced night vision is not enough to fully understand or anticipate the brewing emotions beneath those golden eyes. 
“No.”
Your mind sputters to a halt at the snipped response. He’s giving you nothing to work with. 
“Neteya-”
“Where is all of this coming from, yawne?” He reaches forward to cup your cheek but you stand up before he can. This close proximity is becoming too much. Perhaps it’s cowardly, but you need a reprieve from his love-filled gaze and tender touches. Otherwise, there is no way you will be able to do what needs to be done. You wonder if he knows this as you are met with a toned chest at eye level blocking your path. 
“Did something happen?”
“No.”
“Then why are you so worried all of a sudden?” He pleads for an answer but you have finally managed to slip past him and wade out of the water. The drum of your feet rings in your ears, taking you to Eywa knows where. Neteyam is hot on your heels. 
“It’s not just worry, it’s logic, Neteyam. Can’t you see? You are going to be Olo’eyktan. The People need a leader that won’t be tied to some nocturnal Na’vi that drains the last bit of energy you have left.”
The alpha goes to interject but the words are flying out of your mouth at such a speed at this rate, he has no opportunity. 
“They will need a Tsahik that can do more than just work a night shift. Not to mention one that actually understand healing protocal-”
“My grandmother has already offered to teach you.” He counters, stomping feet practically nipping at your heels. It’s not that you mean to walk away from him, but the dam that holds your suffocating emotions at bay is starting to crack and crumble. One look at him could weaken your resolve. This has to be done fast, ripped off like an adhesive bandage. 
“You deserve to be with someone that can lead The People with you. A mate that can serve both you and the clan in a way I never can. An omega that is a proper mate.”
A strong hand clamps around your bicep and spins you around. Neteyam glowers down at you with an intensity that is borderline desperate. The tears are starting to leave a glaze over your eyes, even as you avoid his own at any cost.
“You are my mate. You are the woman that I choose to spend the rest of my days with.” He tries to gently tilt your face towards him by grabbing your chin, but you flick it off. “We are mated before Eywa.” The crack in his voice tears at your heart. 
“I shouldn’t have let it go on this long, I’m sorry. I foolishly let myself believe that you and I are meant to be but now it is clear that my head was simply in the clouds.” A sob thickens your voice until it is barely tangible. Words are failing you and you idly wonder how many more you will truly be able to manage in this state. 
You attempt to flee from his embrace once more, just a moment to escape that heartbreaking stare that follows your every move. Neteyam holds you gently by the biceps but there is enough force there to keep you in place. 
“We are, Tahni. All these other obstacles are just that, obstacles. Things we can overcome.” He slumps down, determined to finally have your eyes meet his. The curtain of your flowing hair is a weak shield against these efforts. You can feel the heat of his escalating breath tickle at your cheeks. He swoops in closer slowly, with the caution of closing in on a skittish prey. “It’s just you and me, little star.”
The flat of his nose finally rests against yours, lips only a sudden movement away.
There are promises of familiar comfort and happiness in this intimate position. Your nature keens towards his gentle touch. It prompts you to hide away every other concern, worried that it could break this moment of tranquility. 
However, that is exactly what you do.
“You have to break it.” 
There is a pause, a moment of shock that you take advantage of. Slipping out his hold, you watch realization slink across his features. It’s blood chilling, the look of horror that is clearly evident upon his handsome face. It’s a rare thing to render Neteyam speechless. He has grown up learning how to lead and command a room with confidence and grace. Seeing him now, mouth agape as his thoughts lag, it’s easier to see that there is simply a normal man behind the mighty warrior. 
A male that you have managed to strip away the light in his eyes, all evidence of excitement lost. 
It is now that you can truly see the aching restlessness and lost nights of sleep in his demeanor. He wilts before you. 
“You don’t mean that.” He insists, voice now hollow of its usual domineering confidence. 
“I do.” The timber of your voice shivers and shakes, doing nothing to strengthen your resolve. Still, the lost look that Neteyam sends you absolutely wrenches at your heart. “It’s what’s best for everyone.”
Words that are meant to reassure him at least slightly only make his tail halt movement, obvious that the phrase only digs the dagger deeper into his chest. 
“Everyone?” He whispers, hairless eyebrows drawing together. Hesitant steps lead you backwards, eager to begin your journey away from this tornado of darkened emotions. Away from the raincloud you have created between the two of you. “You…this is what you want?”
Want.
That small word is a palpable distinction. To change this argument from what needs to be done to the inner workings of your desires and dreams. To veer it towards the ever flowing river of devotion and love you know will always be in your heart for him. It’s the one move that leaves you completely defenseless.
This is the last thing that you want. 
He has to know that. He must know that. And perhaps that is why he faces you with this question head on, forcing you to say the words out loud. It’s a towering wall that you have no hopes of climbing. Lying is not your strong suit. Neteyam knows that. 
“Please Neteyam.” You send your final plea before turning on your heel and bolting. Vanishing into the trees before he has a second to form one syllable.
Lying isn’t your strength, but hiding is something you are familiar with. 
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“She’ll probably cool down.” Lo’ak reassures him, handing a leaf with larvae to Neteyam. 
“What did I do wrong?” Neteyam wonders out loud. It’s difficult for Lo’ak to tell whether or not that question is rhetorical. The eldest Sully’s eyes are focused on the horizon, he’s lost. Off somewhere else. 
“Nothing, bro! Not everything is that simple.” 
Out of the corner of his eye, Neteyam sees the wooden cup of strong drink pushed toward him but he declines. Drinking is the last thing he needs right now, although it is tempting. These past two days have been pure torture and sorrow. Washing every clouding thought away with the swig of fermented fruit would surely keep his mind off of you for a while, but it would never stop the permanent ache in his chest. 
Although Neteyam knows he must look awful because even his father encourages him to drink, despite the duties he is set to carry out the next day. Most nights he is advised to keep his wits about him, but Jake has let up since the event. 
“There has to be something I could’ve said. Perhaps something I can say now.” 
“Bro, you’ve already said more than enough. If your constant notes and begging haven’t got her to let you into the hut, I don’t think words are the problem here.” A grimace is etched into Lo’ak’s features but Neteyam turns away from the sight. He can’t handle the look of pity that his family seems to constantly be shooting him. 
He looks miserable. He is miserable. Every Na’vi with eyes can see that much. However, he doesn’t want sympathy. He needs solutions. A plan that will set things right again. Anything to bring his littler start back into his arms. 
“Ma Teyam,” Neteyiri gently coos, haunching forward to tuck on the tangled braids behind his ear. “Perhaps it is time to give her some space.” 
Usually his mother’s presence has the power to soothe away the worst of his worries, but today all he can do is sigh at her words. Sitting in problems has never been his strong suit. Neteyam is used to problem solving. Coming up with a strategy and executing it until the issue is nothing but a distant memory. He prays to Eywa that this too will become just that. Something that can be laughed at down the road.
However, sitting here now surrounded by people and never feeling more lonely, it’s hard to imagine ever laughing at such a thing. 
Neteyam continues to pick at the grass next to the untouched meal. The sun has been down for over an hour now. Dinner is wrapping up and there is still no sight of you…again. Every crunch of a leaf or flitter of voices has him turning to search for your small frame in the darkness. It’s an effort that leaves him empty handed every time but, no matter the frequency of failure he can’t stop himself from whipping his head around anyway. 
“You know, there was a time that I was upset with your father. Livid, actually. And yet here we are today.” Neytiri almost purrs, trying to comfort her son.
“Yeah and did he wait around and give you space?” The words come out harsher than intended but Neytiri doesn’t tell him off like usual. Instead her ears pin back and she runs a thumb across his cheek. Jake and Neytiri lock eyes from across the fire, a silent communication that has Jake clearing his throat. 
“I’m not sure if I’m the prime example in this scenario, kid.” A deep chuckle accentuates Jake’s words. He goes to close his mouth and leave it at that but his mate sends him one fierce look that lets him know he is far from done comforting their eldest. “I mean uh truth be told, I was an absolute knucklehead before I met your mother.”
“Still are.” She corrects him. 
Jake doesn’t try to fight against the claim, but he does nervously clasp the back of his neck, searching for the right words to say. 
“Tanhi still hasn’t eaten. Must go.” Neteyam abruptly calls, on his feet within a heartbeat. He gently cradles his untouched meal in the palm of his hand as he navigates his way out of the circle of his family. Neytiri sighs and Jake sends her an apologetic look as they watch their son slither off into the night once again. 
Even Tuk sends sad eyes in the direction of her older brother as he walks away. 
Upon reaching the dark curtains of your hut, Neteyam is unsure whether or not you still reside inside. There is no sign of light emanating inwards. For a moment he is convinced that you have slipped out during his absence, but then there is a ruffle of covers that his ears manage to pick up. Stalking forward carefully, he leans in to pick up on every sound possible. 
Even with his alpha hearing, there is little to no noise coming from the hut. Or at least no sound that is useful to him in any way. He wonders what you are up to within those darkened walls. His hindbrain urges him to go inside and find out for himself, cradle you in his arms till there are promises of never leaving again. However, he knows better than that. 
Neteyam waits to be invited in. 
“Tanhi?” The sound echoes through the night air, but no response comes. With a sigh he kneels down by the entrance, cautiously pushing the leaf underneath the thick rim of fabric.
“You missed dinner again.” Neteyam knows he shouldn’t expect a response at this point, but his tail still naturally droops to the floor when one doesn’t come. “I brought some for you.” 
He waits once more, but silence hangs heavy in the air. Neteyam’s ears twitch to focus in on the minute sounds again. The shallow breathing is confirmation enough of your presence. A part of him almost wishes that he is talking to a blank piece of fabric. If you had left then he could have at least spent that anxious energy scouring the forest for your slim frame. If you had left it would give him hope that you’ve hunted, eaten, gone on a walk. Anything that isn’t sitting in your hut. 
“Do me a favor, baby. Please eat something. Maybe you have been when I’m not breathing down your neck,” He gives a humorless laugh. “But…I just want to make sure you’re healthy. I’m starting to get worried.”
When the silence continues he doesn’t leave immediately. The weight of the stress and heartache is tangible. He can feel it in his bones. He can sense it when in the lag of his maneuvers and movements during flight in his training. Truth be told, Neteyam is sure that it’s visible to others, shining through in his trudging walk to and fro. 
Sitting here in the grass, the same place he had spent that first night you started icing him out, he can feel the weight of sleep pulling him downwards. The muscles of his body scream in protest at every movement. Physically his body is ready to give way, but his hindbrain weaves together signs of distress all night long. 
His instincts yearn to be close to you again, close to his mate who he shares a special connection with that nothing can replace. At times it is painful, that bond between the two of you. Neteyam remembers many days where that connection has been physically fortified by your time together, binding tighter with every brush of his fingers along your skin. However, he did not anticipate the effects of the opposite reaction. 
Going to sleep alone and cold, leaves a heavy weight on his chest. At times it feels almost suffocating. Sleeping outside of your hut doesn’t erase these pains, but it does dull them slightly. He wonders if you’ve ever stepped over him during his slumber. Actively trying to or not, his senses remain on high alert throughout the night. He can wake at the drop of a leaf, false hope that it may be your small form finally stepping past those heavy curtains. 
“Neteyam.” His head whips around at the voice, but it isn’t your honey timber that flits through his ears. Instead it comes from behind him, where Kiri stands with her hands woven together in front of her. 
“What’s wrong?” 
Not bothering to answer, she instead motions for him to follow her. He glances back at the entrance of your hut, but one look at Kiri’s down turned lips has him groggily shifting back onto his feet. She doesn’t speak till the two of them are out of ear shot. 
“Mom and Dad sent you?” Neteyam guesses, tail already drooping between his legs. It bothers him that his parents are rushing to bandage things up, treating him like a child. Advice is appreciated at the best of times, but this is his life. He is an adult, and has been for years now. The rift that has been fortified between you two is his problem to solve and therefore his choice on how to fix it. 
“No, just thought I would save you from making a fool of yourself.”  She continues to effortlessly lead him away from the hut. 
“I’m just dropping some food off.”
“I know.” There is no hint of mocking or disbelief in her tone. She simply grabs his hand gently and guides him back along the path home. Neteyam braces himself for a spew of advice but it never comes. Kiri to his surprise is silent, no hint of tension lingering between them. Still, he knows what message is being conveyed. No matter how much it hurts, he can’t continue to barricade your front door. 
It’s moments like these that Neteyam comes to truly admire how much his younger sister has grown up. She prances through the forest with a humble confidence. Each step taken with the certainty of belonging. Kiri no longer needs others to tell her who she is. Similarly she feels no need to press her opinions on her older brother. She waits patiently. As if she knows that he will come to her when the time is right.
It is a quality he looks upon with great fondness and gratitude. 
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Life has thrown you more obstacles than you care to count. This condition has been a stumbling block your entire life, but you refuse to let it keep you from the finishing line. You consider yourself a persevering person, one that is not easily taken down. When things get difficult you have always been taught to gather your bearings and get to work. Some sacrifices are painful but meant to be left behind if they are keeping you from fulfilling a happy and purposeful life. 
So for the first few days, you try to get back into your normal routine. The first night was spent weaving baskets together through the blurred vision of your tears. The basket came out looking like it had been mauled by a Palulukan. Regardless you continued to attempt getting back into your old routine, however those were usually filled with night hunts, an activity you were terrified of seeing Neteyam at. So you declined. 
However, truth be told, it only takes twenty four hours to realize that this heartbreak is intruding upon everything you do. You open your eyes as sunset turns to Eclipse and the first thing that surfaces is the dread at needing to go to communal dinner. So, you push dinner off. Neteyam is persistent in bringing you a plate each night, usually saying a few apologies and begging once again for you to come out. 
Your lips are raw and sore from biting into them in order to keep sobs at bay every time he comes to visit. Those first few nights he spent laying outside your hut was an awful mixture of longing and agony. His potent essence was easily carried through the night wind, constantly bringing it to your senses. You had twisted in the thin blankets on your hammock to stop yourself from going out there and cuddling next to him. 
On the third night, he doesn’t stay. 
You expect to feel relieved when he silently sets the serving of food down and leaves.
And yet, there is a part of you that longs for the draw of his smooth voice, no matter how distraught and rough it has become over the past few days. A part of you seems to also intrinsically sense his presence, even in the midst of slumber. Now that he spends his nights away from your hut, the emotional turmoil has become too much to handle.  
Simple tasks pose as daunting accomplishments, ones that already feel like impending defeat. So, you slowly start losing those habits too. Your eyes run out of tears to shed so instead you spend more than a reasonable amount of time pondering on your life. You consider what it is that brought you to these circumstances, questioning whether or not you were the one to blame for this heartbreak. Perhaps, you were the one easily swayed into promises of fairy tales. 
Before you know it a whole week has passed and you haven’t stepped foot outside. Recognizing this fact makes you feel pathetic and helpless, something that you don’t take a liking to. So, with red rimmed eyes and a congested nose, you take up a new purpose. Wielding together weapons from the materials in your hut. 
Although they’re nothing to gawk at, the finished results are enough to convince yourself that you are contributing to the welfare of the clan. The steps are repetitive and allow your thoughts to wander while doing so. By the second week you have donated a fair amount to the hunting parties without having to leave your home, thanks to the kindness of your mother. 
Your parents drop in frequently, but it’s obvious that they too find these visits painful. It’s an emotional ball and chain to see you wither away into something different. Visits that used to be full of vibrant laughter and storytelling now consist mostly of their own updates and pleas for you to come outside. Each time you assure them that you will…soon. 
It’s not a lie, at least not to you. 
Despite the physical ache of your heart every time you think of Neteyam’s smiling face and the bond that is now nothing but dust between you, there is still hope in your heart. A hope that someday you will recover from these lovesick feelings and finally be able to look upon the Omatikaya prince as any other clan member would. Purpose will return to your everyday tasks and Neteyam will only reside in your mind as Olo’eyktan of the Omatikaya. 
Still, you would be naive to ignore the weighted awareness of his presence that consumes you every time he comes to drop meals off. You can sense him before his footsteps are even audible. Occasionally, he will say a few encouraging words or promises of solution but some nights he simply places the food there and stares at it sadly before disappearing once more. Both instances strangle your heart in their grasp. 
You thought that his scent would lessen once the bond was broken, but you figure it is alpha status to thank for always sending his essence of fresh pine through your hut at each visit. In some ways it feels like the only full breaths you took. The woven walls still allow air in, but only breezes warped with his scent remind you of being outside. 
It’s on the two week mark that there is a shift in the miserable routine. No meal is brought to the entryway. Hours go by and Neteyam never comes by. You’ve been living off of those nightly meals and while one meal is not hardly enough to maintain a status of full health, its loss is even worse. At first, it appears that Neteyam has given up. He is tired of chasing after you and rightfully so you suppose. This is meant to be a step in the right direction, but you cry yourself to sleep that night. Apparently, your body had an extra storage of tears after all. 
However, when it happens again, your theories start to change. A small slice of fruit is left outside on a leaf by the curtains in place of a meal. It’s delicious with juice squirting along your tongue in a dramatic symphony of taste. It’s the type of experience that leaves one wanting for more. Initially you are disappointed when the small piece is gone, but you remember where this food comes from. It would only take a five minute walk to approach the communal fire and snatch some away for yourself. 
Only moments away from dipping outside that entry way for the first time in two weeks, you have another thought. 
Neteyam only put one piece.
Would it not have been easier to leave a whole fruit rather than take the time to cut and separate one morsel of it onto a leaf as an offering.
It wasn’t an offering, it was an enticement. 
You stay behind, trying to forget the sweet tang of the dessert. 
Sure enough the suspicion is correct when the next night one piece of wrapped chocolate is left outside with a note.
Found this during the raid this week. There’s a whole bag left sitting in my hut. Let me know if you want some more.
-Neteyam 
The chocolate is a tiny ball wrapped in a red textured material that is unfamiliar to Pandora. Chocolate is something you never knew of before Neteyam. However, now it has become one of your all time favorite delicacies, especially with the rarity of its availability. Neteyam took a great liking to showing you around the outpost and the stocked treasures they were stealing from the old Hell’s Gate post and the new trains they were constantly raiding. He would explain the random customs and stories of Sky People that he hears from his father while carefully unwrapping the delicious pieces for you. 
Some days you would even have him read some of the English text, whether from the wrappers or other books that are kept around the outpost for the human scientists to enjoy at their leisure. You never understand a word of what he says, but the sounds are fascinating to hear in Neteyam’s familiar timber. Although the Mother Tongue of the Sky Demons, you’ve always been fascinated by Neteyam’s ability to speak it. Something very distinctly attractive about his extra abilities. 
You sigh and thumb at the round ball of chocolate. It melts on your tongue, creating an explosion of sweet smooth sensations. Leave it to Neteyam to try and lure you out through your love of chocolate. That night you flatten out the wrapper, running your thumb over the English text that appears as nothing more than scribbles to you. It serves as a painful reminder of the golden memories the two of you have shared. 
It remains clamped in your fist the entire day.
Heavy eyelids blinking open slowly, you can still feel the strange texture of that wrapper between your fingers. Contrary to your lack of activity, your body feels sore. Every muscle seems to be wound the wrong way and the air in your hut feels moist and stuffy. Stretching out, your foot hits the food supplies basket you keep and knocks it over. You stumble to put the object away, or rather you try to before you realize that it’s empty.
The last of your supplies is gone. 
Regardless of your feelings and fears, you need to go outside today. It’s time to face the music. 
Your toes curl and feet flex before carefully shifting to stand. Pushing aside clusters of baskets and tools you finally breach the front entryway of your hut. Expecting the air to have cooled down by now, your skin prickles strangely at the feeling of heat against your back. You rush to throw off whatever blanket or item of clothing that must have stuck to you but then your eyes are blinded. Sheer light invades your vision, drenching every sight in white. 
Stumbling across the forest floor, it truly takes you more than a moment to understand what is happening. The harsh light, the foreign heat. This is sunlight.
A pure beam of sunlight that has not disappeared behind the moon yet. 
Your delayed reaction finally allows you to search for the entryway and try to scramble towards safety but it’s impossible to see with the brightness of the world turned up to one hundred. Your eyes can’t manage to stay open for more than a second, each time feeling a burning sensation that is unbearable. Soon, though, it seems to be too late as your limbs grow heavy and your skin heats uncomfortably. Even when that last ray of sunshine disappears, your body continues to torment you with a rising heat.
The sensations become too much. The weight of your own head drags you down. The world spins around you in disorienting directions. Only a glimpse of blue skin is caught before you collapse into someone’s arms and the world turns blissfully black again. 
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“Move before I kick you out.” Mo’at warns, but her tone holds a morsel of sympathy despite the strict instruction. 
You are laid out along the mat of her healer’s tent with half the Sully family gathered around. Neteyam can hardly keep his hands off of you, constantly checking to see if you have cooled down yet. Each time renders him disappointed, ears folding back against his head. Mo’at is quickly losing patience as she is constantly swatting the boy away in order to apply the series of healing balms. 
“She’s burning up.” He protests, but finally moves out of her way. His idle hands find a new place along his knees where the blunt nails dig into his skin. Kiri and Tuk surround their brother but are careful to not impede too much on his space. His panicked dread rolls off of him in waves, a palpable tension that can be felt by everyone in the tent. 
“How long was she exposed?” 
“I don’t know. Can’t be more than a few minutes maybe. She was hardly past the entrance when I found her…I….is she going to be ok?” His voice cracks as tears finally well up over his golden orbs. Tuk places her small hand on his shoulder. 
“Only the Great Mother knows that.” She pauses, looking up to see her grandson’s crumbling composure. “She is hot. Her temperature needs to drop significantly.” 
The message doesn’t seem to settle on Neteyam. His gaze continues to focus on your unconscious face.
“Neteyam.” His head finally snaps up at his grandmother’s stern voice. “Go fetch me cold water from the river.” A basin is handed to the alpha but she can already tell there is reluctance in his expression. 
“Now.” It’s harsher than Mo’at would like to be but she knows that getting the concerned alpha outside of the tent is essential for her to complete the healing rituals. His presence is a distraction that has her own emotions tugging her away from the work at hand. 
Neteyam purses his lips and sends one last glance towards you. He cradles your cheek and leans down to softly press a kiss to your forehead, whispering promises to return. Then finally, he rushes out of the tent, driven by the given task. 
The hours rush and drag simultaneously for Neteyam. It becomes difficult to believe that it has already been a full twenty four hours and yet every minute that your eyes are not open feels like a year to him. Jake recruits Norm and some of the other scientists to take a look at you in the outpost. Moat is naturally displeased by the change at first but even she can’t deny that the old metal portable is a safer place for you to hide from the sun. Thick blankets and rugs are hung over the windows to keep the rays of sunshine out. 
Between the expertise of the scientists with their modern technology and the healing powers of Tsahik, things begin to look grim when there is little to no change in your state. Neteyam becomes increasingly more tense with every passing hour that yields no result. At some point his family stops trying to convince him to take breaks. Tuk takes it upon herself to gather and deliver a good serving from the communal fire for her older brother at every meal. 
Kiri is constantly teetering between helping her grandmother wrap cooling salves of thick leaves on your skin and foraging through the forest for different materials that could be used to create various healing ointments. 
Lo’ak tries to provide his brother with some pleasant company. If not that, then at least an annoying younger brother that can keep his mind off the matter for a few minutes. He tells jokes and shares random stories, usually featuring young alphas and the things their idiotic pride leads them to do. He has a plethora of these events saved up, having been training the new batch of future warriors almost daily. Those stories shift to other couples’ drama and fights when Neteyam laments over the past few weeks, assuring his brother that rough patches are normal in relationships and that perhaps he is not the worst skxawng to be found in the forest. 
Jake and Neytiri watch the scene with sorrowful eyes, discussing in the privacy of their home what needs to be done for their son and you. 
At hour thirty six, you begin to squirm. Every muscle seems to creek with each movement, seemingly as rusty and worn as the door to the outpost that takes an extra shove to open. It’s the burning heat that you notice next. It seems to travel along your veins and cover you in a suffocating cloud. It brings on feelings of almost claustrophobic symptoms. 
Finally, the flutter of your lashes reveal your golden eyes to the synthetic lighting of the outpost makeshift hospital wing. Only one electric light is turned on down the hallway. The rest of the ambience comes from lit candles scattering the surfaces around you. Their flicker is soft and soothing, but it’s the familiar scent of timber and pine that has your muscles finally relaxing. 
The surface beneath your head is cool to the touch, you rub your cheek against it. 
“Tanhi.”
That soft makeshift pillow is his thigh. Your already burning cheeks seem to reach new levels of inflamed rose color as you drowsily look up at him.
“You’re awake.” His voice is thick with emotion, almost choking the sounds from his throat. On its own volition your hand shakily reaches up to swipe away the tear traveling down his cheek. His skin is cool to the touch, such a different contrast to the usual warmth that you remember radiating off of him in your nights together. Your thin arm shakes from the strain of holding it upwards, he grabs your wrist gently and reluctantly helps you lower it back to your side. 
“Yes.” The sound comes out more hoarse and gravelly than you anticipated. You clear your throat before continuing. “How long have I been out?” 
“Over a day.”
A few moments of sunlight and suddenly a day and a half has been taken from you. It’s a lot to process, especially with the hazy pounding assaulting your head with every moment. The usual strength and energy in your body seems to have greatly dissipated, leaving you feeling as nothing but a shell of your normal self. Your attempt at sitting up is not only hindered by the strain of your abs but also cut short by Neteyam’s large hands gently pushing you back down. 
“No no Tanhi, just rest. Don’t strain yourself.” It’s too easy to settle your head back onto his welcoming lap. A small voice at the back of your head warns you of reversing all the progress that has been made, but it seems insignificant when Neteyam begins to tenderly brush his fingers through your hair. Nothing can take away the ache of your body and heat of your blood boiling but his touch does finally stir your heartbeat into a steady rhythm. It’s as if a weight is lifted off of you as your senses become filled with his essence. Every point of contact between you is like fire and ice. He is the ice that you welcome greatly, the only thing that seems to relieve the burning along your skin. 
“I’m sorry.” You whisper, eyes almost closed once more. 
“Whatever for, love?”
“I don’t mean to trouble you. I should’ve been more diligent, tracking the sun’s cycle..” Your lungs seize into a painful invisible grip, forcing a coughing fit to begin. Neteyam is quick to shush your sentence away and help you get some cool water down. His large hand rests over the heat of your forehead. The eldest Sully frowns down at you, no doubt still feeling the evidence of your raging fever. 
“Hush, Tanhi. There’s no place I would rather be right now.” 
You watch the shadows dance across lines of his collarbones and sharp features as he prepares another cool wrap to lay across your forehead. The grip you have on conscious thought is weak, but even at your mental peak you are sure that there is nothing more beautiful than the man above you. His harsh and sharp features that frame those kind and insightful eyes. He has an ethereal beauty that has always captured you. 
 “You’re going to be ok.” It’s unclear whether or not the sentiment is meant for you or rather himself. His hairless brows pinch into those familiar clenched lines. You recognize them from days he would come home to, the evidence of his still racing thoughts clearly etched into his features. 
Through the constant ache of your body and heat that tries to lure you to sleep, it takes you a moment to recognize the pheromones drifting off of him. You’re surprised to find that you can still identify the shift of emotions through his essence. Supposedly your sense of smell is better than you thought for a beta. The curling sadness and anxiety that comes off of him in waves, however, is something you wish could not be so easily detected. It is foreign and strange when mixed with his calming perfume. Neteyam isn’t usually one easily frazzled. 
Neteyam settles a clear plastic over your mouth and it takes a moment before you recognize it as the Avatar oxygen masks. The air filtered through it is clearer and more readily accepted by your lungs. After a few breaths you nod at him and he pulls it away again. 
Silence ensues. You yearn to break it with some semblance of an apology or explanation, but the words never come. Your body has other ideas as it drifts in and out of consciousness. Several times you wake to see another member of the Sully family perched next to Neteyam. However, the oldest Sully child never leaves. The hold you have on time becomes almost nonexistent as you slip back and forth between reality and fever induced dreams.
 Eventually you begin to wake periodically in Neteyam’s arms, head laying on his chest or coddled in his lap. Each time you consider saying something, knowing that he is no longer your mate. You have no claim on him and therefore no right to use him in this way, but his skin is cool and calms the sizzling heat upon your own. The very idea of creating distance between you two causes a spike of anxiety to take hold. 
It would be all too easy to blame this on your fever and the aid he provides, even in your state of watered down thought you know the truth. There is a yearning to be close to him again. To feel the gentle caresses that line your lips and cheeks as you sleep. To fall into a fantasy where the two of you never split, convincing yourself that today is simply a small sick day where your mate pampers you. The natural instincts of your beta nature furthermore aches for the calming presence of an alpha. Even the simple actions of his rising and falling chest that contains a steady heartbeat lulles your nature into a submissive calm. 
It is such a dramatic contrast to the empty abyss that has replaced your heart over the past few weeks. Falling into Neteyam feels natural, as expected as the waves that crash against the shore. It’s an ironic feeling to have considering the most inconvenient and problematic characteristics of your relationship. He was never meant to be yours. 
You chant those words in your head, willing them to echo true. 
This time, your eyes flutter lazily open to the feeling of his slim tail wrapping itself around your upper thigh. With creaky drowsiness you look up to find him fast asleep, lips parted softly with shallow breaths escaping soundlessly. Sprawled across him, head on his chest, this position resembles that of your usual sleeping position together. Or at least, what it used to be. Before the first cracks of dawn you would slip back into the tent and gently fall into his dozing embrace. It was not uncommon to find his tail slink around one of your limbs possessively all while never stirring from his unconscious state. 
Looking around the dingy outpost, it’s just the two of you. The plastic material of the mask around your neck feels uncomfortable around your heated skin. You find a matching one around Neteyam’s own throat. Although showing no signs of struggling breathing, you gently place it against his lips. When the clear oxygen filtered through his lips, Neteyam stirs.
You contemplate faking sleep when his ears twitch and eyes slowly open, but they immediately land on you. 
“Yawne.” Neteyam groans, voice thick with sleep. The deep rumble of his morning voice always makes your stomach do somersaults. “How are you feeling, Tanhi?” 
His ears pin back when you veer away from his efforts to cup your cheek. 
“A bit better.” Your arms tremble as they push against Neteyam pectorals to try and sit up properly. Despite his gentle protests, you finally manage to remain upright for the first time in days. The room spins around you. It’s only by the grace of Neteyam’s hands supporting your back that you remain sitting. “What time is it?” 
It feels like night but then again the heavy blankets over the outpost windows would show no indication of broad daylight if present. 
“Middle of the night.” 
“Then I should go.” Your feet are barely planted on the ground before Neteyam is pulling you back into his arms. 
“You don’t really think I’m going to let you out there in this condition, do you?” His chest rumbles with a stern timber, but his hold is tender and gentle. You are tempted to roll your eyes at the protective behavior, but you’re worried that doing so would put the room back into orbit again. 
“You need rest.” 
“I can rest at home.” 
“Like hell you will.” Neteyam scoffs, using another phrase he so commonly picks up from his father. You can practically feel the protective growl that yearns to climb up his throat, but a sigh comes out in its place. “You’re shaking, Tanhi. Let me take care of you.” 
His knuckles graze your cheek delicately, sending a cool shiver along your shoulders. 
“I don’t think that is a good idea.” 
Neteyam’s hand stills before dropping heavily to his lap. The heated breath coming from his lips tickles at the back of your neck. Were it not for your already trembling form you are sure that his presence alone would erupt goosebumps and shivers along your body. The pressing weight of silence is dizzying, tempting you to lay back down. You can practically hear the cogs in his head turning at a rapid pace. 
“Please just hear me out for a moment.”
Turning around to face him takes more effort than you would like to admit. Seeing those sad golden eyes without melting takes even more. 
“Five minutes is all I ask.” You hesitate, biting your bottom lip. “And if by the end of it you are sick of hearing from me then I promise I will leave you alone. My grandmother will take over caring for you and I will…respect your wishes.” His words are strangled, that suffocating dread pulling his features into a deep frown. 
“Ok.” 
The shimmer of hope is barely visible in his shining eyes but it still wrenches your heart. 
“My entire life has been about being Olo’eyktan. I’ve watched my father lead the people since I could barely walk and since then I have always known that someday that would be me. I wake up every day and the first thought that comes to mind is what needs to be done in order to become the mighty leader that everyone expects me to be. For a long time I’ve thought that my path was already decided by Eywa. Find an omega suitable of being tsahik, settle down with her, and lead till my son can take over. I was ok with that, I’d accepted my fate.” Neteyam shifts to his knees, fingernails digging slightly into his own thighs. Apprehension spoils his scent, creating a new mixture you are unfamiliar with. It’s then that you realize you’ve never seen Neteyam nervous before. 
“Then I met you.” 
Your eyes dart to the laminate floor. 
“I…I’m usually a lot better with words.” He chuckles nervously while rubbing the back of his neck. “It occurred to me recently that I’ve been negligent in our relationship. I never truly explained why I chose you. Why you are the person I can’t live without. Perhaps if I had we wouldn’t be in this situation now.” 
“Neteyam it’s not-”
“Please let me finish, Tanhi.” 
You nod softly, careful to not increase the already blooming headache pounding at your skull. 
“I’ve never met anyone like you.” A weak snort transforms into a cough raking up your throat. “I don’t mean because of ailment, yawne.” He clarifies and you suddenly feel embarrassed for assuming so quickly. Neteyam pauses his little speech to reach behind and once again carefully bring a cup of water to your parched lips. Gratefully, you let the cool substance slink down your throat to soothe the scratchy ache. 
Once he seems to be sure that another fit is not about to come on, Neteyam continues. 
“You have this unyielding spirit, determined to forage through any storm. Eywa herself puts you in the shadows and you conquer the terrain. The air around you hums with a quiet confidence that is…” He searches for the right word. “Intoxicating.” 
A laugh escapes your lips and yet you feel nothing resembling humor. Your hairless eyebrows scrunch in disbelief. Neteyam shows no acknowledgment of your reaction as he instead puts the mask back against your mouth. 
“I’ve been drawn to you since that first night hunt. Surely, that isn’t a secret.” He laughs into his own mask that is raised to his lips. If only he knew how oblivious you were to his intentions those first few weeks. “You’re fiercely determined and independent yet hold a gentle empathy and kindness for those around you that I could only ever hope to imitate. And stubborn too.” Neteyam chuckles with a shake of his head. “Fucking stubborn enough to tell a dumb alpha like me off, consequences be damned.” 
Your lungs can only manage a simple huffed laugh, but the corners of your lips are already turning upwards subconsciously. 
“When I’m around you,” His eyes pierce through you. “I can finally bear that weighted pressure of expectations on my chest. You make it light.” Neteyam leans forward and tucks a stray strand of hair behind your upturned ear. “My little star.” 
Your cheeks are damp and it is only then that you realize tears drops have been escaping your eyes. Neteyam thumbs them away with tender care. 
“I’ve grown accustomed to sacrificing whatever it takes to become Olo’eyktan. I’ve written my life off as not my own. I’ve given everything I can and could in order to fulfill this role. You are the only thing that I can not sacrifice. And maybe that is selfish of me, but I also know that without you I’m simply a shell of the man I am with you.” 
“I could never be Olo’eyktan without you by my side.” 
“But how am I supposed to be beside you when I can’t even step a foot into the sun without falling apart at the seams?” 
“You truly think that I haven’t thought about that, yawne?” Neteyam’s lips quirk into an amused smile. “I guess now would be a good time to tell you that Lo’ak and I have been building a black out healers tent.” You gape at him. “I wanted it to be a surprise. I suppose I should’ve known better than to think I could pull one over on you.” 
It’s foolish, you tell yourself. Another darkened tent doesn’t solve all of the problems. It doesn’t erase the strain this relationship would have on Neteyam or allow you to operate during the daytime hours, unless you are content to remain in the tent for all of your days. And yet, there is a sliver of hope growing in your bosom. 
“Nete, I don’t know what to say.” His braids swing over the intense eyes that focus on your every move. He’s tense, ready to jump in at the notice of resistance. “But, I can’t live my life in a dark tent.” 
“Of course not. I’m talking about a compromise. Lo’ak, he takes over in the mornings while you and I start the day in the midafternoons. Tsahik duties in the tent for a few hours and then the rest of the night spent together. Leading together. Hunting together.” The dopey grin that spreads upon his lips is fiercely adamant in capturing your heart once more. It takes everything in you to not reach out and pinch the mighty warrior’s cheek. A notion Neteyam is known to reprimand with a playful glare. 
“You make it sound so simple.” It’s too much to meet his gaze. You prefer the view of the worn down tiles as you take another calming breath from the mask. The pace of your heart is evermore increasing and part of you wonders if this conversation has the ability to make you faint. 
A hand beneath your chin gently prods you to look back up again. He whispers your name, soft but clear in the quiet outpost.
“We have a choice.”
The words weigh heavy in the air, drawing your ears to perk forward in anticipation. 
“I know that may sound like a lie to you. However, if there is anyone that understands their life being determined from birth, it’s you. You and I have been pushed and kept into our respective boxes, taught to dream of only the realistic paths ahead of us.”
You wish to say it’s untrue, but any other reality has been stripped away from you from your first breath and morphed into only that of fairy tales. 
“We get to choose whether or not we believe that. I’ve accepted my destiny, Tanhi, but I can not bring myself to see my journey walking besides anyone that’s not you. I’ve already chosen. You are what I will not sacrifice.” Neteyam’s calloused fingers weave into your hair, hands on the sides of your head. 
“It’s your turn, Tanhi. What do you choose?”
“Is that your definition of fumbling words?” Your chuckle is choked with tears. Neteyam’s short laughter joins your own, his lips already starting to spread into that smile you adore so much. 
The past few weeks have been a constant building of that fortress around your heart. You’ve tried to convince yourself over and over again that the two of you parting ways is for the best. These mantras have ripped your heart out and left you in a state of empty sadness, but they also have created a sturdy wall, one that is hard to crumble. Naturally, it is Neteyam that ever stands a chance at breaking through. Sweet Neteyam that knows you so thoroughly that he doesn’t require brute force to get through, he finds a hold from the inside, reading you like a book until there is nothing left for you to hide. 
This experience has been a draining uphill battle, but one that you have embarked on because you’ve been convinced that the right thing to do is often the hard thing. However, now, the story shifts. You are left wondering if perhaps this whole time, running away is not the hard thing at all. It’s staying that proves to be the most difficult battle to fight. It’s staying that requires your heart to be opened and at the mercy of failure and disappointment. Leaving Neteyam isn’t the noble cause you once thought it to be. 
It’s hiding. 
“You really have some nerve calling me stubborn.” You try to joke, but tears are already cascading down your cheeks at an alarming rate and you can tell Neteyam is seconds away from scooping you back into his lap. 
“Well I admit being stubborn has its reward sometimes.” He quirks an eyebrow at you. “Perhaps it’s paid off for me this time?” 
“Perhaps.” You smile coyly at him. It takes bracing a stabilizing hand against the floor to stop yourself from falling over when you lean forward but it’s worth the exhilarating feeling of his lips against yours once more. 
Neteyam is cautious and gentle, moving his lips softly in sync with yours, but you can feel the restraint it takes for him not to swallow you whole. However, you are still healing so Neteyam treats you the way you expect any alpha to: like a delicate flower. Your own tears wet the canvas of both of your cheeks and it takes a moment to realize that small droplets are falling from Neteyam’s eyes too.
The kiss is warm and tender. Relief washes through your body in a wave that makes you realize how much pain you truly were in. How even the very bones in your body finally lose their ache when Neteyam slips an arm around your back to bring you closer. 
You’re forced to break the kiss earlier than desired as Neteyam can feel the way your body lags to get air into its lungs. The soft pants that leave your lips are soon encased by the mask that the alpha slips over your mouth once more. The warmth of his gaze beaming down on you spreads across your chest and lights another fire along your skin. 
“Come home, Neteyam.” You whisper softly. His forehead leans against your own, those golden orbs still shimmering with unshed tears. 
“Always, Tanhi.” 
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The hours float by in a happily dazed dream afterwards. Neteyam’s touch starved state comes fully into the light as he is constantly keeping a point of contact between you two. It’s obvious that his alpha hindbrain has gone off the wall after being apart for so long and furthermore trying to care for you without going too far. Now that the green light has been given, Neteyam is constantly wrapping his body around your own smaller form till you are almost completely encapsulated by him. 
Truthfully, you have no objections. In fact, even your own instincts push you towards readily accepting and initiating any forms of affectionate touch. It further helps that Neteyam’s skin is cool to the touch in comparison to your own raging feverish skin. 
Within half a day your wellbeing has greatly increased after the constant nurturing of your overprotective alpha, who seems to be constantly slipping water, food, medicine, or mask given air past your lips. Mo’at is greatly pleased when your temperature begins to return back to its former state and there is a greater strength present in your body. Still, she instructs you to lay low for another day as a precaution. 
Neteyam is more than happy to keep you to himself for another day. Watching you come close to the brink of death has his primal urges dialed to eleven. You have to scold him every now and then when his younger brother comes to visit and Neteyam thanks him with an aggressive hiss and tucking you safely into his arms and away from the ‘threat’. 
It’s borderline shocking to see his strong reactions considering the severed bond between the two of you. That is, until you find the truth.
“I admit, it might’ve been selfish Tanhi but I couldn’t bring myself to cut our tie before knowing that I had tried everything possible to get you back.”
He had looked up at you with a guilty composure but after everything the two of you had been through you couldn’t hide your relief and joy in finding out that this bond had still survived the heartache. It also provides a greater explanation to your own body's willingness to melt into him with or without a resolution. Now, though, you are content to let him have his fun babying you for one day more and revill in the renewed connection the two of you share.  
This time when you awake in the newly hung hammock inside of the outpost (Neteyam had used every angle possible to convince the human scientists to let him temporarily take up the space) you’re surprised to find your mate’s skin hot against your own. His thumping heartbeat rickets in your eardrums but instead of rocking you to sleep, the sound sends shivers down your spine. 
Neteyam is blissfully unaware of your consciousness as your own heart starts to speed up. Shifting your leg, it’s a surprise to feel a sticky texture lining the inside of your loincloth. Blood rushes to your cheeks when you realize the source of this substance. Bashfully you’re relieved to see Neteyam is still asleep, allowing your arousal to remain a private humiliation. 
With the cautiousness of a sneaking Palulukan, you attempt rolling off of the hammock and out of his arms to take care of your little problem. It’s only halfway rolling over to your side when the Omatikaya prince shifts and spoons you from behind. All plans are immediately thwarted when his muscular thigh slips between your splayed legs innocently. However, the pressure it incidentally puts against your clit brings forth feelings that are anything but innocent. 
A veiny forearm easily clamps around your waist to pull you back against his chest. The act rubs his thighs against your clothed folds so suddenly, that it brings a whimpered moan from your lips. Breath hitched in your throat, you wait to see if Neteyam stirs. He shows no sign of waking so you try to scoot your heated core away from his thigh slyly. 
Not only are these efforts unrewarded but also bring a tinge of sadness coursing through you. It’s a strange wave of emotion that follows. Arousal quickly windles into full blown desperation within a few heartbeats. The sensations are overpowering, racing through every surface of your body until all that your mind can focus on is the need to be filled by a mate. 
Filled by Neteyam.
“Oh Great Mother.” You curse quietly. 
Your first heat.
A momentous milestone that your parents have talked to you in great lengths about yet still brings nothing to light on the reality of the experience. You’ve had smaller mini episodes of heat, normal in the beginning of adulthood for Na’vi betas, but it’s only a laughable comparison to the clawing desire taking over your body currently. As a beta you figured that your own heats would be miniscule compared to the laborious heats that plague omegas earlier in their years. 
Involuntarily rocking your clothed core against Neteyam’s thigh you now wonder how these Na’vi have ever survived such a demanding lust and lived to tell the tale. And that is what it feels like. Death if not satisfied. Pain if not satiated. 
Embarrassment is thrown out the window in favor of creating a pleasurable friction against your clit. Hardly ever having experienced touching yourself on the rare occasion, you have no idea what to do. The corded muscle of his relaxed thigh feels better than your usual small fingerings drumming against the bundle of nerves, so you continue to rock back in a desperate rhythm. 
The hammock starts to sway softly with your jutting hips. Some movements are rewarded with a spark of pleasure, only to then be absent on the next rock of your hips. Frustration is quick to brew as you can’t seem to find the right angle and pressure against your core. Shiny slick drenches through the thin fabric and onto the alpha’s thigh. It acts as a lubricant for your journey across his skin, allowing a faster pace to be adopted. 
Your pussy clenches around open air, beckoning for a worthy mate to finally fill and claim you properly. It’s an emptiness that you can only compare to the tingling you have experienced after especially long makeout sessions with Neteyam, but it’s worse. So much worse that it brings tears to your eyes. The only relief is found when a lucky thrust finally has the fabric pushed away from your core and lets your small clit peek out and press against his azure skin. 
Now without any barriers, pure ecstasy wracks through your body. It only amplifies when the muscles flex slightly beneath you, giving just the right amount of pressure against your clit. A knot forms and tightens in your stomach, quickly winding until it feels as if it’s about to snap. It feels almost dirty to realize that your slick has now coated the entirety of Neteyam’s thigh all while he is sleeping and yet it lures you further into a state of arousal than you have ever been before. 
Your own thighs clench harshly around Neteyam’s to trap it against your core. A release clear on the horizon, every effort is put into maintaining that delicious sensation of your clit being assaulted against the muscle. Legs shaking and small squeaks erupting from your throat you chase that feeling relentlessly. 
“Cum, Tanhi.” 
Neteyam’s raspy voice pushes you over the edge with a shocked gasp. His rumbling growl of satisfaction seems to pulse through you in sync with the overwhelming sensations of an orgasm. 
“Good girl.” He praises as your body trembles in the afterglow of release. Neteyam chuckles when a simple flex of his thighs has a whimper spilling your lips. Swirling patterns are drawn by the alpha’s fingers along your sides and arms. 
Mental clarity returns in a flash, allowing the reality of the situation to sink in. You hide your heated face against his arm underneath your head while groaning in humiliation. 
“Nete.” You whine.
“Hush, baby girl. It’s alright, no reason to get all shy on me now.” He coos while swiping your hair away from your cheek to finally have an unobscured view of your blushing face. “Especially not when you make such pretty noises.” 
The words crumble any wall of resistance against the impending heat. Your body yearns for another release, still screaming at you for not being filled with your alpha’s cock yet. A cock that you can feel hardening beneath Neteyam’s loincloth and poking at your lower back. 
“Neteyam, it really hurts.” 
“I know, Tahini, I know.” He soothes, softly kissing your temple while brushing the strands of hair away. “My poor little star. A bit stronger than you expected, hm?” 
When his thigh finally shifts away from your leaking pussy, despite the strength of your clamped legs, a noise of disappointment escapes you. 
“So much worse. Neteyam please!” It’s hard to say what you are begging for specifically, but the alpha is quick to calm your worries with sweet nothings. Your limbs kick out and try to wind around any of his, subconsciously finding ways  to trap his body closer to yours. 
“If you want help, all you have to do is say, yawne. I know how to take care of my girl.” He turns you by the chin to make direct eye contact with him, a silent second measure to make sure this is truly what you desire. Hesitating is far from your mind as you nod and whine out little pleas.
Satisfied with your consent Neteyam grins and begins to descend down your body. Confusion swirls in your eyes when he situates your legs over his shoulders. The sex talk from your parents may not have been that descriptive but you know enough to realize that his cock is nowhere near your drenched entrance. 
“How does that…” You trail off, head tilted to the side. 
“Just need to get your ready first, Tanhi. Want my baby girl to feel good.” Pointed teeth poke out beneath his lips in his open mouth grin. The pads of his fingers tenderly brush and tease along your outer thighs, slowly making their way to your inner. Tingles of anticipation and pleasure trickle up your body. It boggles you how such a light tracing heightens your lust to new levels. 
“How?” 
His face softens and Neteyam coos at you while tucking a strand behind your ear. 
“Just trust me, little star. I promise you’ll like it.” 
So you do, even when his face lowers to your partly clothed mound. Neteyam’s nose presses against your pussy and he sucks in air like a man on the brink of drowning. Your cheeks set aflame at having his face so close to your special place, something you had never considered before. The rumble of power in his hungry growl, however, washes away any insecurity that would plague your mind. 
“Smell so delicious, Tanhi.” He purrs.
Neteyam’s creates a path of wet kisses along your inner thighs. Careful grips on your knees allow him to maneuver your legs into whatever profane position he desires, easy access for his eager tongue and lips. His saliva and your slick become intermixed along the expanse of skin as he takes his time warming you up. Each time his lips come closer to your folds, you whimper needily. Heated lust entraps every thought you have, wondering how long it will be until the two of you finally become one. 
The first nips at your left inner thigh causes you to jump. His eyes look back up at you as the pointed tips of those canines teasingly scrape against your soft skin. 
“Just a little taste, yawne?” He asks, although the smirk along his lips suggests that it is less of a question and rather a warning. 
“A bite? T-there?” 
Neteyam chuckles at your clueless behavior. It’s been known among Na’vi to leave obvious hickeys and bites along one’s mate’s skin, but you’ve always assumed that to only be in places more visible and less…private. Your tail swishes anxiously as you think of those marks being so close to your heated entrance. 
“Yes, baby girl. A little mark to remember me by, hm?” 
A simple nod of your head is all the permission required for Neteyam to continue. He takes one last breath from the hanging mask before picking a spot on your inner thigh where the flesh is supple and tender, licking and kissing and the area in preparation. When his lips close around the plush skin and begin to suck, it sends tendrils of electricity straight to your core. Without even thinking you moan and grab at his hair. You’re stuck between the urge to push his head away and encourage him to suck harder. 
Once released, the skin is left with a pronounced purple mark. One lick is deposited on the spot before his teeth nip and tug at the skin. You squeal and arch your back dramatically, Neteyam moans darkly he has let it fall from between his teeth and begin to soothe the skin with kisses and licks. The entire act scratches a part of your brain that is primal, satisfied by the apparent claim he leaves for all to see. 
“Much better.” His tone drips with pride. “Thank you, Tanhi.” He kisses your knee in gratitude, as if you have given him some sacred gift, and perhaps for him that is true. 
It’s only now that it occurs to you how many times Neteyam has held back from staking his claim on you the way most alphas do. You vaguely remember the indented mark of his own teeth against his bottom lip that would draw blood, especially after you have shared an intimate moment or he saw another male eyeing you for too long. What you had originally shrugged off as a habit now transforms in your mind as an act of self control. 
Neteyam is quick but deliberate with his handy work of undoing the ties around your tail and hips. He slides the fabric away from your pelvis with an attitude of reverence. Cool air against your slick folds feels like a tickling touch that has your lust spiking dramatically. Burning eyes on your most sensitive area is like gasoline to the flames. 
You attempt to clench your thighs together to protect your dignity, but Neteyam hoists them apart and back on his shoulders sternly. 
“None of that, baby girl. Let me see how pretty you are.” 
And there’s something in that phrase and his undivided attention that makes your toes curl. It becomes blatantly obvious that if he doesn’t hurry up and get on with sticking his cock inside your pussy, you will fall apart at the seams before there is even a chance. 
“Neteyam, I’m ready. Please please I’m so ready.” You ramble, willing your legs apart to prepare easier access. Once he is inside everything will be better, although the thought of your virgin walls stretching around him causes a slight tinge of panic to break loose.
“Mawey, my love. It’s about to get good.” 
However, frustration and confusion bubble to the surface again when you see his face lowering back down. 
“No no, Nete. Enough kisses.” You whine. “I need you inside.”  
His brows push up at that, the corners of his lips perking slightly as if hesitant to fully grin.
“Are you sure, my love? We can still wait if you wa-”
“NO! No more waiting! I’m ready now. I need you right now.” 
He calls your name softly, but with a hint of unyielding sternness that lets you know it is important you listen. Even a beta can sense when the time to obey is present.
“You’re heat is a very powerful thing but also fleeting, Tanhi. I don’t want you to make such a big decision purely because of your primal instincts.” It’s a respectful and considerate gesture but your head is shaking before he is even close to finishing. If this man does not take you now, you’re ready to flip him over and sit on his member, inexperience be damned. 
“It’s not. I’ve been ready for weeks. W-was just waiting to tell you. Take me now, stick it in now.” The ringing in your ears, you realize is actually the accelerated blood thumping along the eardrums from your racing heart. It feels as if the speed will be enough to burst your ribcage open. “I’m ready.”
Neteyam watches as your eyes clench shut and hands scrape against the woven material of the hammock. You’re braced and ready for the pain that will ensue upon penetration. 
“Tahni,” Your eyes slowly peek open to see that the alpha hasn’t moved a muscle. “You love me, don’t you?” 
The question throws you off guard, but the answer comes easily.
“Of course.” 
“And you know that I love you?” 
“Yes Neteyam.” Your hips scoot against the fabric, pussy fluttering as it continues to wait for the incoming sensation. 
“And you trust me?” 
“Always, Nete.” 
The alpha hums happily at your response, muttering out a deep ‘good girl’. 
“Then I need you to trust that I know what I’m doing, baby girl. Trust that your alpha will take care of you.” He tenderly brushes his fingers over your soft stomach. “And trust me enough to say if or when something doesn’t feel good.” 
You nod hazily, keenly aware of the tickling sensation of his touch along your hips. 
“That’s my good girl. Now let me get you ready.”
It’s still confusing when you see his head lower towards your navel once more, but you don’t protest this time. He’s right, you do trust him and he does have far more experience with sex than you by far. Your upturned legs are spread even wider by his broad shoulders as he leans closer and lets the tips of his tongue drag over you from belly button to navel. The saliva line goes down further and further until…oh.
It takes his grip on your hips to keep them pressed against the hammock when his tongue brushes over your clit for the first time. It’s a pleasure that is completely foreign to you. Comparable to the spark of dopamine that comes from your small finger teasing the area and yet completely different in intensity. He draws sensual figure eights along the bundle of nerves several times before swooping down to collect more of your arousal between your folds. 
Neteyam is calculated with his exploring, performing in the way of someone who has crafted their art. When his tongue just barely swipes across your entrance your hands fly down to grasp his braids again. This time, however, the only thought on your mind is keeping him down there. His flat nose nudges at your clit with every swipe of his tongue along your pussy. 
“Oh my Eywa!” You screech as that knot is quickly being tied again in your stomach. 
Neteyam on the other hand becomes focused on another knot, tugging at the twine holding your top in place while still working on your pussy with zealous excitement. With your aid, the dangling top is released and falls to the side. His assault on your pussy pauses for him to trail upwards and lick along your quickly hardening peaks. 
“So pretty, Tanhi.” He murmurs against your right nipple before taking it into his mouth and sucking. Meanwhile his fingers have taken the place of his tongue and expertly rub your clit. “My pretty little star.” 
Gleeful pride twinkles in his eyes as he looks up at you, a string of saliva connecting his lips to your chest. Your small hands grapple at any part of him you can reach, finding purchase on his flexed bicep that holds himself over you. 
The connecting lines of your thoughts are tangled into a ball of messy hunger and desperation. Never in your wildest dreams would you have imagined such strange things to be so exhilarating. A part of you wonders what else was not included in that sex talk. 
His head is found back between your legs again once your nipples are red and pointed proudly. Neteyam licks, nips and sucks at your pussy like a starved man. Every moan of pleasure releases vibrations that sky rockets through you. It becomes too much to handle. You’ve never felt more fragile in your entire life than when his eyes connect with yours, one eye winking at you, and you fall apart. 
Neteyam’s moan while licking up the white substance pouring from you goes completely unnoticed as the world around you spins and your ears ring. The gravity of this orgasm shakes you to the bones, floodgates of pleasure completely open in your brain. 
Although it feels as if Pandora has slipped out from beneath you, the recovery from this release is swift. Your skin prickles with goosebumps and your pussy hungrily clenches around open air once more. It seems that the monster of a heat inside you grows more insatiable with every second. So when Neteyam covers one finger in the remnants of your juices and starts to prod at your entrance, you’re relieved. 
“You’re doing so good, baby girl. This may feel strange at first, but let me know if it hurts too much.” It’s hard to focus on anything else besides the shiny slick that still coats his chin as he looks at you, but you manage a nod.
It does feel strange at first, your walls incredibly tight. Getting down to the first knuckle is easy but going towards the second proves to feel a little more strained. Regardless, you are happy to find that getting one finger inside is nothing near as painful as expected. Neteyam wiggles the digit and it makes you twitch. Such a strange sensation to be filled but, the longer he twists and curls his finger, the more you find yourself enjoying it. 
“How does that feel, yawne?”
“F-fine…a little strange.” 
Neteyam chuckles.
“I know. My girl’s pretty pussy is so tight.” It’s the pride and adoration in his voice that melts you from the inside out. The muscles of your cunt relax against him as he starts to slide another finger in. 
This stretch takes a little more time, effort, and praise from your alpha but otherwise it’s smooth sailing. He scissors and stretches your walls with due diligence, even as the dark pupils of his eyes overtake the gold color. By the third finger, you’re clawing at his braced forearm and begging for his cock. Neteyam doesn’t immediately give in, reminding you of the importance of being stretched out for him. Frustrated by his noble intentions, you aren’t beyond playing dirty. 
“Alpha please! Need your cock so bad, it hurts. Feel so empty.” The begging turns into sweet tones of whimpers. You can see the shift of his muscles as they tense. His pheromones take on a stronger hue, one that surrounds you like a cloud. Your small hand reaches down for him, fingers grasping in open air. Neteyam is quick to use the hand not half way up your pussy to hold your own, looking up at you. “You said you’d take care of me, alpha.” 
Perhaps in a situation not distorted by desperate lust and the sweet scent of your erotic perfume Neteyam would be tempted to put you over his knees for trying to manipulate him, but the clenching of your velvet walls around his fingers is enough to keep him focused on being balls deep inside of you instead. You can see the moment that his resolve crumbles to ashes, it’s accentuated by a deep growl and narrowed eyes. 
You watch with hungry eyes as Neteyam hastily claws at the strings of his loincloth. It’s a wonder that it doesn’t rip underneath his harsh fingers but it finally falls away and your pupils dilate at the sight. His length stands heavily against his stomach, curving slightly under its own weight. Saliva gathers in your mouth as you observe the freckled stars that glow under the dim light of the room and scatter over his shaft till reaching the tip. A bead of precum is settled there and for the first time, you understand the desire to put your mouth in such sinful places. 
Neteyam preens under your awed attention, his hindbrain purring in delight at seeing his little mate impressed with what he has to offer. His grin widens when he notices your hand hesitantly reaching towards it. You stop, however, before getting to touch. 
“It’s ok, Tanhi. You can touch.” The three fingers leave your entrance with a squelching sound. Neteyam confidently keeps eye contact while licking the digits clean with a soft purr, then that large hand is wrapping around your own and leading you towards his twitching member. 
Even with Neteyam’s guidance, you’re unable to wrap the entirety of his width in your grip, but he doesn’t appear to be bothered by it. In fact, a devious spark lights in his smile as he watches you struggle to hold it. Although, you will probably never admit it outside of heat, you too enjoy the dramatic size difference between the two of you. On more than one occasion you have let your arousal ruin your loincloth just from having his large body completely wrapped around your own, tucking you away so easily. 
A small gasp leaves your throat when his cock twitches in your hand. Neteyam can’t keep his cooing laughter in as he pets affectionately at your hair. He pauses to take a breath from the mask while still smirking. 
“You see what you do to me, baby girl?” 
The taste of iron erupts in your mouth and it is only then that you realize you’ve been crushing your bottom lips between sharp teeth. 
“Is it…uncomfortable?” It feels silly to be so bashful after having his lips along your pussy moments earlier, but you can’t help but keep your voice down to a whisper. You thank the Great Mother for the privacy that the scientists have allowed the two of you over the past few days. There would be no recovery for your dignity if they were to walk in on this scene. Heat or not, being whiny and oblivious is embarrassing. 
“Hm, sometimes my love. If relief is not given.” He guides your thumb to run over the head. “Mostly it gets my thoughts traveling to tempting places. Imagining all the different ways I can have you laid out for me.” The weight of your eyelids seem to increase with every word he speaks. His other hand running up and down your inner thigh only adds to the lust filled daze that has captured you. 
“Wondering what you would taste like.” Being the cheeky alpha that he is, Neteyam doesn’t let the opportunity pass by without reaching a few digits down to his soaked thigh and swirling the substance between his fingers. He simultaneously continues to help you jerk his thick member slowly while sticking the dripping fingers into his mouth profanely. 
“My imagination, however, doesn’t do it justice.” He hums with delight, his pink tongue swiping over his bottom lip to collect any escaping juices. “My thoughts are merely a facade in comparison to the real thing. They can’t do you justice.”
You subconsciously tighten your grip around him at the words, causing a low groan to rumble from his chest. Another trickle of slick coats your entrance. You’re in absolute awe at your body's ability to get close to cumming just from the dark noises and words that spill from your mate’s lips. Not to mention the twitching weight of his cock restrained in your hand. 
“Then stop imagining and come here.” You leap forward and capture his lips with your own. Neteyam’s hum of surprise morphs into a viscous growl as your tongues fight for dominance. The little gasps and groans that slip into the kiss as you pump his cock is electrifying. It’s borderline addicting to see that way the mighty Omatikaya Prince bucks his hips for you. A sense of power to know that you can get him melting like this. 
Never breaking the kiss, Neteyam shuffles your body forward and the two of you start to guide his cock towards your fluttering pussy. All forms of trepidation are gone. Your body screams from every pore that you can take it. You trust these instincts as the thick head of his member prods at your entrance. 
Your lips part against his mouth in a gasp when the head slips past your entrance. Slick walls stretch in ways that you couldn’t have imagined and it feels as if you are about to be split in half. Neteyam continues to kiss and nip at your lips gleefully while carefully continuing to guide himself in inch by inch. 
“You’re being such a good girl for me.” He coos as your eyes scrunch shut tightly. It feels as if the length will never stop, as if he is about to reach your chest from the inside, but Neteyam is patient. He takes his sweet time checking up on you with every inch and soaking his tone and words with constant praises. It does this trick, scratching at that primal desire to please your alpha. 
When his balls finally meet the curve of your ass, little whimpers rain from you consistently. 
“N-nete, so b-big.” You cry, forehead touching his own as you struggle to take in ragged breaths. He forces you to take a breath from the mask hanging from his neck. 
“I know, baby. So perfect and tight around me.” His own voice shakes slightly. “God damn!” The english phrase sounds like gibberish to your ears but you understand the sentiment nonetheless. 
Settled there to let you adjust, your head lolls to his shoulder.  When his cock twitches, you clamp your teeth down on his exposed shoulder to stabilize yourself. Neteyam encourages the oral fixation through  hissed words of praise. Tears spill from your eyes but it’s hard to say what the source of your crying is. The stretch is uncomfortable but you can’t deny the certain tinge of pleasure that courses through you when a slight shift reminds you of how full your pussy is. Eventually, your heat takes the edge off, rewarding your ability to secure a mate with a pulsing clit and dripping entrance. 
It takes a moment to realize that Neteyam is calling your name, you eventually snap out of it when his lips murmur it straight into your flicking ears. 
“Hand me your kuru, baby.” Your hands obey on their own accord. “Want you to understand how good you feel, Tanhi. How happy you make me.”
When those dancing tendrils wrap securely around one another, your eyes go from sleepy slits to dilated pupils of awe. It never becomes old being able to feel Neteyam so closely. To feel his breath and strength. To have his own emotions coalesce with yours. A vulnerable certainty of how he is feeling. In this state, neither of you can hide. There is no deceit. There are no polite formalities. You both have direct access to the other’s soul.
This time, a new current of sensation travels through the bond. It sparks into growing forms of ecstasy that makes you groan. It’s a strange thing to accept, but you can feel your own tights walls secured around him. Hugging him so tightly in the warmth of your cunt, velvety texture caressing him with every shift. Underneath that pleasure also grows an unyielding lust that pricks at his self control with every passing second. His hindbrain is screaming at him to move. To claim. To fill your womb with his seed until it drips out from you. 
It’s better than if the words had come from his own lips. It sets you into a feral need to complete these fantasies. 
“Can you feel me, baby girl?” His arms are securely wrapped around your middle to keep you tight against him. 
“Yes Nete, feel all of you. Need all of you. W-want you to move.” The ability to form coherent sentences starts to slip between your fingers. Neteyam, however, requires no further instruction. Your back hits the hammock once more as his strong grip clasps around the soft flesh of your hips. The mask is settled over your lips by the alpha before he continues. 
Slowly, but surely, he draws out with smooth and continuous thrusts. Your cunt clenches around him almost painfully, as if to keep him locked there. Once the tip is just barely past your entrance he starts to slide back in smoothly. The prolonged thrusts eventually angle in a way that hits a bundle of nerves inside you that has never been explored by you before. Neteyam moans in sync with you as he can feel your own pleasure every time the head of his cock rubs at the rosy spot. 
It spurs him forward. You don’t have to explicitly tell him to go faster because he can feel it straight through the bond. It allows you to focus the energy you have left on gripping his shoulders for dear life. A brutal rhythm begins to take place, your legs wrapped around his waist. 
“Oh Eywa!” You screech. The obscene noises of skin slapping fills the room along with Neteyam’s loosed growls and grunts. 
“That’s not my name, Tanhi.” The alpha teases, but you can feel the aching desire he has to hear his own name upon your lips. To have the auditory satisfaction of knowing he is pleasing his little mate.
“N-neteyam oh haa Nete!” 
His precision at hitting your g spot increases. Neteyam learns your body with an impressive speed. One hand comes up to palm and tease your breasts in his large hand. His eyes switching back and forth between watching his cock disappear inside of you and marveling at the nipple hardening between his pinched fingers. 
Everything starts to become a blur for you. The origins of sounds are unknown. Several times you are surprised to find that the high pitched screams are coming from your own throat. Your body shakes and trembles as if it is about to shatter into a million pieces. And that is what you come to truly believe as it overwhelms your senses. It is so consuming and new that you start to sputter little pleas of mercy to your mate, convinced that you truly will die from this overload of sensations. 
“It’s alright, Tanhi. You’re alright. Just let go for me. Let it all go.” 
Your hair tangles in the woven material of the hammock as you shake your head. Neteyam thrusts become ragged and less coordinated but he slips a hand down to fondle at your clit. You scream and arch, cumming harder than ever before. Neteyam is less than a second behind you, feeling the effects of your orgasm through the bond. Warm ropes of seeds paint your inner walls. 
The first normal sense that comes to you is the feeling of Neteyam’s heavy and warm body collapsed on top of yours. Heated breath tickles at your neck, intermittent with sweet kisses and nonsense murmurs. You let yourself bask in the afterglow. Your body is sore and motionless, but luckily Neteyam takes over. Only a tiny sound comes from you when he slips out.
“Come here, tanhi.” Your boneless body is pulled to lay on top of him. Soothing affection swims across the bond when you nuzzle your face against his chest. The swing of the hammock and rhythm of his heartbeat is quickly luring you to sleep. 
Neteyam grabs your hand and kisses it sweetly. You can vaguely make out the sound of his voice, but the words are like garbled noises which never compute in your brain. It’s hard to say whether or not it’s english or if you just can’t understand simple words now in your fucked out state. Still, you like the way it makes his chest rumble. 
“Neteyam.” The rumble stops, tail flickering as he waits patiently. 
“I see you.” Your words are barely more than a whisper in the stuffy room but they ring true. He gently places the breathing mask over your lips again before your eyes close. 
“You’re all I see, little star.” 
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Taglist @yurmomsawh0r @nilahsstuff @name-saken @luvv4j4ybe11 @stylishtoast @karateperson @henhouse-horrors @easy2004 @whisperingwillow0854 @whenercolorfulrainbowlol @neteyamtesuli
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angelickks · 10 months
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Miguel Headcanons: Mrs. O'Hara
1k+ - husband! miguel o'hara x spider-woman wife! reader
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summary: miguel o'hara and his wife, but make it headcanons! warnings: some swearing. descriptions of two injuries but nothing graphic! that lovey dovey shit. overall fluff. not proofread terrible. lmk if i missed some! notes: this is slight au, meaning i chose peace but i don't think y'all will entirely mind. i am in no way fluent in spanish, as i only know very few words and phrases so i figure i throw that out there. i think i covered all my bases so enjoy, muah!
pt 2!
To any newcomers, learning that Miguel O’Hara had a wife was a concept many couldn’t wrap their heads around…
Could you blame them?
He meant business, he was cutthroat with the way he ran things and no one was safe from his wrath 
Well….unless you were his wife 
“MIGUEL!” Jess chuckled at the rare use of your husband’s name on your tongue. “Shut it!” He practically hissed at her, she sent him an unimpressed look but that quickly changed when you came into view. She sent you a teasing smile followed by a “Hey mama.” You gave a quick peck to her cheek before your eyes landed on your husband. He cleared his throat and swallowed at the annoyed look painted across his wife's face. “Mi vida,” he simpered but was quickly shut down, “Cut the shit.” He knew the exact reason for this sudden intrusion, you caught wind of what happened between Miles and Miguel earlier that afternoon. Unbeknownst to Miguel, Peter B. may have ratted to the infamous Mrs. O’Hara that her husband might’ve tried to throw a table at Miles, again. Why? Well, Miles had tried to get into Miguel’s good graces the way he knew best, food of course. That brings the couple to right now, you giving your husband a look that meant hell while he stood there looking like a kid caught red-handed by his mother. You wasted no time, “Throwing tables at kids Miguel? Miles of all people?” Jess let out a boisterous laugh as she exited Miguel’s office, Miguel shot her another snarl when she turned back to make a face at him. “Don’t get mad at her! We discussed this: just because you’ve got a temper doesn’t mean you start with KIDS!” Now you were pacing back and forth rambling, frustration oozing off your figure. He sighed in defeat and touched your waist gently, halting your pacing. You narrowed your eyes at your husband, quickly glancing at the hand on your waist. “I’m sorry mi vida, you’re right. I take full responsibility for my actions but-” You shot a icy glare at him, effectively shutting down whatever he was gonna say to even try and justify it. He dropped his head but was pleasantly surprised by the soft kiss on his forehead. You wrapped your arms around his waist and planted another kiss on the wide expanse of your husband's chest. “Yeah…shut up,” He huffed out a chuckle at your comment and caressed the back of your neck, claws lightly scratching you. You gave him a sweet smile before shooting a web at the neck of his suit and gave him a particularly hard tug so he was eye level with you, “Pull that shit again and you can spend a couple of nights in this “office”, mi amor.” You pecked the corner of his mouth before releasing his suit and untangling yourself from his arms. “It’s lunchtime, I brought food. Come.” He grunted as you made your way over to his slightly dented table placed in the corner of his workspace with a bag he hadn't noticed until now. He saw a flash of your webs attached to his chest before he was pulled to the spot next to you. 
You were easily a favorite at HQ
You were unabashedly sweet, easy to talk to, and overall had a great energy
Not to mention, you were amazing on the field
Personality wise you were the COMPLETE opposite of your counterpart
And that's why it was so hard to believe why you of all people were with a man like your husband
That’s how you earned the nickname, so lovingly given to you by none other than Hobie, boss-lady. Something he didn’t say lightly, as he never referred to Miguel as “boss” despite him being the one that ran the place
This peeved Miguel, not because he didn’t agree with you being “boss-lady” but simply because it was Hobie
As for Gwen, Miles, and Pav…..you were their work-mom
You seemed to always be saving their asses from your husband's temper, for which they were very grateful 
While at work he was well…Miguel
Brooding, perpetually stressed, a void of emotion rlly
But with you, it was the complete opposite
Anyone in a hundred-mile radius could see that Miguel O’Hara was putty in the hands of his wife 
Hobie, Gwen, Miles, and Pav had just gotten back from what they deemed a successful mission, but to Miguel successful was the last word he’d use to even describe it. So here they were in his office being reprimanded, again. 
“All four of you went against almost every single protocol in the damn book, protocols set in place to prevent your mistakes! Once again, disobeying strict orders to follow them!”
The sight found below Miguel’s platform was not a new one, not even close. Nor was it new when you just so happened to swing in at the right moment. 
“Amor! You forgot the bag I packed for you this morning” Your sweet smile lightened up the dark room. The group watched as their boss become the walking definition of heart eyes. “Oh I’m sorry, am I interrupting?” Feigning confusion while subtly shooting the four a knowing look. “You? Never love. Come, let me see you” Your husband beckoned, holding out a hand for you. Your webs glowed as they pulled you up the platform, you swiftly reached for his hand and pulled him into you. You made quick work of maneuvering his back toward the group. They watched as you placed a kiss on his collarbone lovingly, quickly sticking your head over your husband’s bulky shoulder and mouthing the words, “Out, now!” Disguising it as another hug. 
They wasted no time doing just that, earning you hushed sighs of relief and a small salute.  
Some perks came with working with your significant other 
Seeing and being with each other often 
Constantly checking up on each other, fair share of making sure the other is eating and getting an ample amount of sleep
Looking out for each other in the field blah blah blah
You always looked out for Miguel, but you knew he could handle his own.
Miguel on the other hand? Easily the multiverse's biggest worry wart 
The poor man has lost so much that he cannot bare the thought of losing his driving force.
This meaning every scratch or bruise, he’s waiting on you hand and foot 
You came back from a seemingly easy mission with Noir. It wasn’t something you two couldn’t handle, it was simple. Catch the anomaly and report back to HQ. It was just this time, you returned with a gash in your thigh and a shitty bruise on your cheekbone. It was lightwork in your eyes, the perks of the job. 
Yeah, not for your husband. 
The minute you walked into HQ, you were met with the sight of your brooding partner donning his signature snarl. Not pointed at you but at your partner. You rolled your eyes at his antics making quick work to defend Noir from your husband’s fury. “How about you go get this thing situated Noir?" Motioning to the irate anomaly in tow, "Gotta deal with the big guy.” He nodded quickly before walking off, avoiding Miguel’s hard glare. 
“Don’t get mad at him, it’s not his fault. Blame the ugly thing we just captured.” Attempting to soothe your beast of a husband, quickly picking up on his clenched fists. He swiftly reaches for your jaw, holding it gently to scan for any further injuries. You reach for his clenched fist and massaged his palm to release the tension there. In a flash, he places a kiss on your forehead and you quickly pick up on his ragged and uneven breathing, frowning as you recognize the tell-tale sign of his anxiety. He softly releases your jaw from his grip and rests the same hand on your lower back, practically dragging you to the med bay nearby. He got there hastily, keeping it together to stay mindful of the gash on your thigh. 
It was hard to hand you off to the doctors, who stitched and cleaned you up in time. But not fast enough for Miguel, simultaneously vexed and impatient, who insisted (basically threatened, but ok) that he stay in the corner closest to you. As per usual, you took it like a champ, unlike your very frigid husband menacingly staring down at the unfazed doctor. They gave you some final instructions on how to keep the wound sanitary and to stay off the field for a week or two while insisting you stay a night in the med bay (this is upon Miguel's request threat so he could have supplies readily available if anything were to happen) After the doctor left your side, Miguel was right there softly caressing your unbruised cheek, causing you to melt into his touch. “Love, you realize that the doctor is just doing their job and you can’t just stitch me up yourself right? No matter how talented you think you are,” You said, sleepily teasing Miguel. He shot you a very unenthusiastic look, rubbing his thumb over your eyelid gently to coax you to close your eyes. “Shut up, go to sleep muñeca” He placed another kiss on your forehead, making his way to your cheeks while being sure to avoid the bruised one before making it to your lips. "Rude ass" you murmured, he lightly poked your nose with the pad of his thumb. "I love you endlessly, mi vida" he whispered you opened your eyes one last time and gave him a knowing smirk, "I love you, I'm sorry for worrying you amor. It's going to be okay."
He spent that whole night at your side, woke you up once to get you to change into more comfortable clothes, and put you right back to sleep. He had spent a few hours rubbing your feet and softly singing to you in Spanish in the dimly lit room. He didn’t sleep as great as you wanted him to, in fact, woke up with an annoying ache in his back from the shitty chair he slept in.
Safe to say you spent about two weeks in the "office", helping with paperwork. All while trying to convince your unrelenting husband to let you massage the new annoying knot in his back. which he let you help with after a few empty threats and a lot of kisses.
BONUS: 
A few days after the group’s mission, the last thing they expected to see was their boss in the cafeteria unfortunately unaccompanied by you, walking towards them. 
“Next time you guys decide to break protocol, don’t expect my wife to save you.” He grunted, his fangs flashing slightly. They watched worriedly as he sauntered over to where you sat five tables over.
Now it was your turn to look like a kid caught red-handed. 
xtras! i had sm fun writing this its 12am and i have work tmr but oh well. possible pt. 2?
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kithtaehyung · 4 months
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drabble: first one pairing: 3tan!yoongi x reader(f) rating/genre: pg ; fluff ; three tangerines au note: uhh. surprise and happy holidays LOL. based on this ig reel sent in the discord multiple times, this little slice is gonna kickstart the "3tan does sm" mini series! basically this little ongoing collection will have all the drabbles/requests based on social media things y'all send in. if it inspires me, i'll make a drabble or something out of it hehehe. enjoy! warnings: nothing big. just 3tan yoongi lol links: three tangerines mlist ; masterlist drop date: december 28, 2023, 7:07pm est word count: 1.1k
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In the middle of winter, you decide that tonight is the perfect time to try something new. 
Which leaves Yoongi confused as hell because this attempt requires him to be outside in the freeze, when the two of you were just bundled up in blankets and watching a movie minutes ago. 
But he can scold your lack of attention span and tendency to watch videos during long movies later. 
“What am I doing?” 
Placing him on one spot of the sidewalk just outside his apartment, you urge, “Just, hold on. Stay right there.” 
“Huh?” 
Giggling, you give no other instructions, instead rushing forward to bring your phone to a nearby bench. When you set it down to see what the camera catches, you determine that you look fine enough, so you tell Yoongi—who is simply standing there and still looking devastatingly handsome—what you wanna do. “Okay, pull up the video I sent you.” 
“Shouldn’t we go back inside?” 
“Yes, yes, after this.” 
When you walk up, he pulls up the link, and you both watch as people run to their partners and rush them out of frame, spinning them around or chasing them away. 
Ever consistent, Yoongi is both unfazed and wondering what goes on. “What’s the goal of this again?” 
Shrugging, you’re just happy he’s not tugging you back indoors yet. “I don’t really know, but. I just wanna see how you do it.” 
“Mm…” He looks one more time, cementing his answer with the way he smushes his lips. “Fine.” 
“You’ll do it?” 
“Uh huh. But this is just for you.” 
Right. Because of course this can't be seen anywhere else. Your smile is rueful with a tinge of holiday hope, “I know.” 
And Yoongi’s expression carries the same weight. 
Maybe one day this conversation will be a lot different. Just like the way your quick stay at his place while your brother is at a work dinner will prove a lot longer of a night. One day. 
Maybe.
Cheering yourself up, you practically bounce back to where the bench is, slipping a bit with a tiny “whoops” before reaching out to press record. Backing up onto the sidewalk, you throw up peace signs, poses, do a few different filler moves until Yoongi does his part. 
But nothing happens. 
And no one appears by your side. 
So you turn to see if he actually left but goddamn it is he recording you? “What the!” 
Yoongi just laughs as you kick your head back in laughter, and stops holding his phone up. “So cute.” 
Damn it, he can’t give you this fluttering feeling while being annoying! “Focus!” 
Groaning, you turn your recording off and then back on again, repeating some of the same things for the camera and shuffling a little in place to warm up. Because it is freezing and this idea could have waited another season or two. 
And when you look to the side after a pause, Yoongi is recording again. 
You bend forward to shield from the chill, your yell echoing throughout the small little courtyard, “Yoongi!” Does he have to keep grinning like that? There’s no time for prolonging this even more! “I cannot with you right now.” 
After another attractive huff of amusement, he keeps going, “I can’t help it! You’re being adorable.” 
Well. At least Yoongi’s having his fun. If anything, he’s stalling because he doesn’t wanna do whatever challenge this is. So you can drop it. “Ugh… Never mind, we can go inside.” 
After grabbing your phone, you walk up to him again before he stops you. And you think it’s because you were about to slip once more, but his low tone gets you to see his face under those locks. 
“Nah, we can do it.” When you give him a pouting frown, his teeth shine. “Serious!” 
Easily placated, you’re back to grinning. “Okay, for real this time! It’s cold!” 
“I know! You didn’t even let me get my beanie!” 
Laughing out your guilt, you warn him over your shoulder, “If you run into me, you better not knock me over.” 
“I won’t, doll.” 
“Okay!” Placing your phone down for hopefully the last time, you hit record, seeing yourself sigh before gingerly walking back to the sidewalk. 
In hindsight, maybe it wasn’t the best idea to try and get Yoongi to do this. It’s colder than hell’s deepest frost at this point, and some snow is still falling from darkened skies. 
But all the little reactions in the videos looked too cute, and you are genuinely curious to see what he’s gonna do. So even through your poses, you brace yourself. Is he gonna run in for a hug? Is he gonna rush you off with a big warm embrace? 
…Is he really not gonna do anything?
Feeling a little bad, you drop the cute poses and turn. 
Only to feel him right at your side, gathering you with a soft, strong arm and leading you down the sidewalk. 
Well, damn.
The gesture is so him that, for a second, you genuinely think that he saw something and led you out of harm’s way on instinct. But as you look around, you don’t see anyone else in the wintry courtyard besides the two of you. 
“What’s wrong?” 
Your vision flicks away from the lighted trees dotting the area. “Oh, nothing, I was just…” 
“Wanna run it back? If we do let’s go somewhere else. It’s icy right there.” 
Blinking, you see his eyes full of pure curiosity and attentiveness. 
And suddenly you wanna go back inside for a completely different reason other than warmth. 
“That felt perfect,” you whisper, eyes lowering to his ever inviting lips. “Lemme check it.” 
Leaving his cozy side, you go back and retrieve your chilly phone, stopping the recording that you are relieved you successfully started. Both you and Yoongi watch as you play the full thing, and after he leads you out of frame, your jaw drops. 
“Oh, my god. This beats all the ones I’ve seen.” 
“Really?” 
“Damn… Now I’m actually sad I can’t post this.” When you laugh, it’s not all joyful. Turning to him, you pretend to be mad. “Why are you so cool?” 
Huffing small, Yoongi looks up and around you before giving your cheek a kiss, and your knees weaken at how tender it is. “Send it to me,” he murmurs. 
“You want it, too?” 
“Mm.” 
“Okay.” 
“Just a little longer, babe.” He gives you another peck on your very cold nose. Then both cheeks. And your forehead. 
All while you’re out in the open where anyone could witness. 
Just his willingness to amuse you was already perfect. Yoongi didn’t need to do any of that, and he certainly didn’t need to be so charming with his stylistic choice. But he did it all anyway while freezing his pretty ass off.
And his next words make your chest yearn to stay with him—for every holiday season and silly trend that comes around. 
“Then this’ll be the first one of us we post.”
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fin. :)
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🌨️ what do we feel! i needed this little drabble :')) 🌨️
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a/n: did i mean for this to be a full blown drabble? no! was this the video that bo originally sent me that i flailed over? no! but it's the reel i saw and apparently had been sent in the server multiple times. so here we are with a surprise hahaha.
enjoy your holidays, everyone! and if you have anything social media related that 3tan reminds you of - or you can see the 3tan crew doing - send them in and maybe i'll get inspired again. :D this didn't take me long at all and i wanted to do it, so no worries about extra work!
a/n 2: 3tan12 is going strong alongside the holiday fics! should be posting teasers and taglists for those, too. very very excited for all of them mwahaha
🌨️ links: three tangerines mlist ; masterlist
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queensimp69 · 2 months
Text
Killer Love (Slasher headcanons x reader)
How Y'all met/their first reaction to you
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Billy Loomis   -Movie: Ghost face
The two of you actually met through Stu, at first the two of you were just casual around each other but deep down Billy had this feeling about you he couldn’t get out of his head…It was almost addicting. Soon in his free time he’ll watch you from afar, staring at you with hearts in his eyes. He was going to get you one way or another. He would leave small gifts at your door, flowers, some jewelry, stuffed animals, Anything to please you.
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Stu Matcher  -Movie: Ghost face
The two of you met on the first day of school. You have just moved to Woodsboro and Stu was your trusted buddy to show you around school and town! The both of you both had the same humor so you both became close despite Billy’s disapproval (He’s Jelly) It barely been a month and Stu was head over heels for you and was willing to do Anything to make you his permanently. Like Billy he brought you gifts 24/7, anything you wanted or wished for was bought just for you and only you.
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Mark Hoffman  -Movie: Saw
You were driving home in your boyfriend's car late one night, everything was going fine but there was a strange car following you. Getting a little uncomfortable you drove to the Police station and sheepishly went inside, hoping you could just hide out there for a while. Mark, being the one of the only cops in the station, asked why you were there, as you explained he looked at the car you drove and realized it was the same car of Jigsaw's latest victim. He gave you a cup of water and went to call off Amanda, telling her about how it was the wrong person and to go to your boyfriend’s apartment. But there was just something about you that made him feel…Warm. He needed to know more of you…No not more… All of you. He put cameras in your house and would watch you for Hours.
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Bo Sinclair  -Movie: House of wax
You and your “Friends” were on a road trip, it was meant to be peaceful and fun but as you took a sip of your bottle of water you started to feel light headed… A few hours later you woke up on the side of a road, your clothes were ripped and you were covered with bruises. Sitting up you looked around to see yourself at a gas station, it seemed empty. Suddenly you heard someone yell at you, asking you why on earth you were laying on the ground of their gas station. Looking around you looked at the man, he was a dirty blonde and pretty dirty, as if he was working on a car, roughly 6 '2 and nicely fit. He gave you a helping hand before waiting for you to explain WHY you were at his gas station just laying on the ground. You still dazed and explained your situation, as you talked you saw how his face changed from disgust at your “Friends” to pity. Feeling kind he offered a place to stay for a while and in return you helped around, but in the back of his mind he knew that he was never going to let you Leave as he fully set on claiming you as his… Permanently.
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Vincent Sinclair  -Movie: House of wax
(Same situation as Bo But instead on bo liking you he just pity’s you)
As Bo leads you to an empty bedroom He mentions how sometimes his brother would come around and stay in the bedroom next to yours. A few days passed of you staying with Bo but something was odd…You never saw Bo’s brother’s, mainly the one who slept in the room next to yours… You asked Bo about it but he just brushed you off saying it was normal but offered to bring you to him. It was a brief meeting but for Vincent it was forever, He just couldn’t just take his eyes off you! You were the perfect art piece, He would watch you for hours, taking notes and drawing you 24/7 until he ran out of paper.
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Lester Sinclair  -Movie: House of wax
(Same situation as Bo But instead on bo liking you he just pity’s you)
As Bo showed you around, the two of you encountered the youngest brother of the Sinclair’s. Quickly Lester got amused and offered to take you off Bo’s hands and drive you around as he was bored. As the two of you drove around, y'all made light conversation, happily talking and cracking jokes but before long Lester realized he had to get back to work on the road :(, feeling a little confected he decided to take you with him as a make up road trip for you! (This one is sweet and not crazy XD)
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Brahms heelshire -Movie: The boy
It was pretty simple, you had just moved and needed a place to stay for the time being until you had saved enough money for a house of your own. The many kind people of the town told you to live in the old manor and fix it up and in return they will bring food and stuff as thanks. For the first day you saw a list of rules, thinking nothing of it you followed them as you went along you day, the rules weren’t hard or anything so it wasn’t much of a problem but…You wouldn’t help but constantly feeling eyes on you…As if Somebody was watching you through the walls. (Ya’ll don’t really meet until later on during first impressions 😅)
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Thomas Hewitt -Movie: Texas chainsaw massacre
After a few years of saving money you finally were able to move! It took a few months to get a company to do it but they made your home in the middle of state Texas and in front of a pretty white house, After a few days a nice lady knocked on your door with a pie in hand, the two of you talked as you ate the pie together, she talked about a guy named Thomas. After she left around 7pm you finally got really to bed, never realizing the Man who was watching you through the window…Although you didn’t know Thomas or who he looked like, Thomas knew you and adored how you looked in your cute little pajamas.
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Michael Myers  -Movie: Halloween
You had just moved right next to the Myer’s house, you didn’t know much about it cause whenever you asked people they never gave a straight answer…Odd. But you didn’t have time to poke any further as it was almost halloween! You happily got your new house all decorated and stocked up on a lot of candy days in advance. Then the day finally came. Filled with joy you happily passed out candy and small toys until you had one piece left. Looking around you saw a tall man in a blue jumpsuit and a white mask standing in front of the Myer’s house, you slightly questioned his costume choice but didn’t think too much of it as you waved him over. He took a few minutes to come over but when he did you happily gave him the last piece of candy saying how lucky he is before saying good night and going back inside. Later that night as you slept you never knew about that same man Standing in the corner of your room watching you as he fell deeper in love with this “Kind” person.
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The end! Please tell me if you want more and have a wonderful, horny day :D
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honeyedmiller · 1 year
Text
The Night Before // Pedro Pascal
warnings: implications of smut and sooooooo much fluff I could CRY. hope y'all enjoy <3
word count: 1.7k
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synopsis: You and Pedro had been dating for awhile, and finally decided to give yourselves to each other. Now it's the morning after, and you can't get last night's events out of your head.
(p.s. omfg this gif makes me want to dramatically CRY UGH)
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You stirred slightly, eyes slowly fluttering open. The sun's bright rays beamed through your lover's bedroom, the ivory curtains doing a poor job at keeping the light from your eyes.
You felt a pair of strong, muscular arms wrapped around your bare abdomen, bringing a sleepy smile to your glowing complexion. You could tell he was still asleep by the slow, even sounds of his breath that blew against the back of your neck.
Your eyes darted to the clock on the bedside table— 7:30 a.m. You were surprised you woke so early, considering how late you stayed up due to last night's events.
Oh, last nights events.
You'd been dating Pedro for a few months now, and he absolutely adored you. He'd show you off to the world whenever given the chance, proud to call you his. He made you feel so special, so loved, and never let a day pass by where you didn't feel the unwavering love he had for you.
You finally admitted last night that you loved each other, and that's when you two decided to give yourselves over to one another. Sure, you've had multiple occasions where everything got hot and heavy, but it never exceeded a certain point until last night.
The memories of last night coursed through your mind, imprinting themselves into your soul. You could still feel the way his hands roamed your body, making your skin feel like it was on fire. You could feel his lips against yours and various other parts of your body, making you blush once more. You could also recall his words, still very fresh in your mind, of him praising you and telling you how absolutely breathtaking you were.
He made you feel like a goddess— and to him, you absolutely were. You loved this man more than anything, and you made sure he knew that.
He took his time with you. He didn't rush a thing, and made sure you knew he was all in, and you were his end game. You were it for him, no one else. He'd found his soulmate, his forever, his life partner. The overwhelming feeling of it all washed over him last night all at once, nearly making him cry tears of absolute exultation.
At first, you'd always had a hard time expressing your feelings, and Pedro was hesitant to fully commit to a relationship in fear of getting hurt. It took so long to build that strong form of trust between you both, but the moment it happened, you both dove into it head first. Neither of you regretted the decision to do so.
Breaking from your daze, you turn your head to see a peaceful looking Pedro. A soft smile grazed your lips and you moved to kiss his forehead ever so tenderly. He didn't move an inch, which made you stifle a giggle. Slowly, you unwrap his arms from you, already missing the warm embrace as you slowly sneak out of bed.
You found his shirt from last night tossed onto the floor, so you swiftly picked it up and put it over your head, the soft jersey material falling over your bare body.
You tiptoed out of the room, leaving the door slightly ajar. You made your way downstairs and into the kitchen. You wanted to do something nice for Pedro since he made you feel so special the previous night, so you decided to make a nice breakfast.
You grabbed all the ingredients you needed, connected your phone to the bluetooth speaker he had in the vicinity, and got to work.
You started swaying your hips to the music as you diced up some potatoes, wincing slightly at the soreness between the apex of your thighs. It was a good soreness, though, and you remember your lover's presence there.
You'd just finished scrambling eggs and cooking up some seasoned potatoes, fixing to stir the waffle mix when flashbacks of the night before started to flood your head.
"You're so breathtaking, baby."
"I love you."
"You're all mine. I'm so lucky. All mine."
Pedro's words kept replaying in your head, making your eyes tear up in the slightest. You really loved that man with everything in your whole being, and were so lucky to've found such a wonderful person like him in this lifetime.
"Good morning, sweet girl." A low, groggy voice snapped you from your thoughts, startling you. His bare feet padded against the hardwood floor, stopping when he was entirely in the kitchen. You turn around, bowl full of waffle mix in one hand, whisk in the other.
You were doe-eyed as you faced Pedro, admiring how disheveled his hair was, how his tan skin glowed, and how low his gray sweatpants hung from his hips. You bit your lip as your eyes met his dark ones that were soft, sleep still prominent in them.
"Good morning, handsome," You set the bowl with the whisk down on the kitchen island, moving to your sleepy lover. You stopped in front of his tall frame, looking up at him. He lazily smiled down at you as he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you flush against his body. "How'd you sleep?"
A blush sprinkled across your cheeks from the proximity, but you beamed up at him as you trailed your hands up his chest and around the back of his neck. You linked your two hands together, letting them rest comfortable behind him.
"Best sleep I've gotten in a very long time." He rasps, moving his head down to kiss you softly. Your hands unlink from themselves, and you move one of them to the back of his head and through his soft, wavy hair.
You kissed him like your life depended on it. You'd never been so passionate with anyone until it came to Pedro, but he loved every ounce of love you were willing to pour into him.
Reluctantly, you pulled apart from him. He kissed your forehead before looking down at you once more, and your hand moved to his cheek to caress it.
"I'm making some breakfast," You state the obvious, "Hope you're hungry." You smile up at him before kissing the stubble on his chin before fully releasing him, but he doesn't let go of you just yet.
"Hmm," He hums, resting his forehead against yours. "Smells good." He grins at you, kissing your forehead one more time before releasing you from his grip.
"Waffles should be done in ten minutes." You turn back around to finish the mix, couldn't help but feel Pedro's eyes burning into you.
He leaned against the kitchen island, crossing his arms over his chest as he watched you mix the batter in the bowl, wearing his shirt. God, could you be more perfect? His eyes ran up and down your body, over every single curve that he had the privilege of kissing last night.
You started to shake your hips to the song that was playing, which put the biggest smile on Pedro's velvet lips. He wanted to reach out and touch you, but he knew better than to distract you from something that had your full, undivided attention.
As promised, the waffles were done in ten minutes. You served him a plate and he graciously thanked you, diving right in. He let out a satisfied groan, his eyes rolling back in a dramatic fashion. You laugh, lightly hitting his shoulder.
You both ate in peace, just simply enjoying each other's company. It was intimate moments like this that tugged at your heart strings. Moments like this you'd never take for granted.
You both finished fairly quickly, both seemingly hungry after such a worked-up appetite.
After you put your dishes in the sink, Iris by The Goo Goo Dolls played over the speaker. Pedro held his hand out to you, and you softly giggled as you took it without hesitation. He pulled you into his chest as one hand wrapped around your waist, the other holding yours in his.
You rested your head on his chest as you two swayed back and fourth to the beautiful love song, pure bliss coursing through your whole being. You don't know what you did in a past life to deserve such a man as Pedro, but you couldn't be happier. You were so in love with him, it could make others sick.
He twirled you around toward the end of the song, your giggle echoing through the kitchen. He hoisted you up by your waist and set you down on the kitchen island, so you two were now eye level. He parted your legs so he could stand between them, hands traveling up your thighs as he dipped his head to leave feathery light kisses against the hot skin of your neck.
You hummed in content, draping your arms over his shoulders. His hands kept traveling up until they reached the apex of your thighs, and his thumbs began to rub light circles into your skin. You pulled apart from him for a second, admiring the adoration in his eyes— which, you were one hundred percent sure your eyes reflected to him as well.
"I love you," You whisper, your index finger moving to trace a small pattern on his bare chest. "So much." You kiss him once, twice, a third time before running a hand through his hair.
"I love you too, my darling. So much." He nudges his nose against yours, leaving a soft, lingering kiss on your lips.
"C'mon, let's go get you cleaned up, mama." Pedro hoists you up from the counter, a playful squeal falling from your mouth. You wrap your legs around his waist and leave playful, wet kisses tracing along his neck and collarbone as he took you two back upstairs to his bedroom and into the bathroom.
He set you down, your feet planting themselves on the cold tile floor. You shivered at the feeling, looking up at Pedro. He went to turn on the shower to a temperature you both liked, then stood back in front of your frame.
He smiled as his hands grazed where the hem of his t-shirt on you and your thighs met, chills instantly covering your body. He slowly pushed the shirt up and over your head, admiring your bare body from head to toe.
"My beautiful, sweet girl. How perfect you are." His lips met yours once again, this kiss in particular filled with fervor and neediness. You slid the sweats right off of his body, and he wasted no time backing you into the shower, lips never breaking yours—
back to finish what was started the night before.
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orangeave · 5 months
Text
not even ghosts are this empty
wednesday addams x gn!reader
summary: you dug a grave for two but you lay in the casket alone.
words: 1.2k
orange speaks: part two to the great war, with more angst (whoops?). hope y'all enjoy.
Plumes of smoke echo slowly out of your mouth, the blunt in your hand burning the edges of your fingers. You make no move to ease the subtle ache, secretly enjoying the weight of the blisters that form in their wake. A cough flowers in your throat when you inhale the sharp sting of night air afterwards but you hold it in place, forcing it to expand downward to create a rattle in your chest. It encompasses the entirety of your ribcage, swallowing the meat of your organs whole. 
The sensation is fleeting and you mourn it as it fades. There’s an emptiness that follows, one you’re making an unwilling acquaintance with since you left Wednesday’s dorm those short months ago. Time has been infinitesimal in the grand scheme of things, passing by in hiccups of memory that never truly stick. 
The first few days following that night go by in denial, refusing to believe you had lost her. A hollow ticking resounding in your ears proves it to be true; vaguely signaling a countdown that tells you that you now carry a solar flare where your heart should reside, and it’s only a matter of time before it implodes. 
Loving Wednesday isn’t easy but neither is letting her go, and when the denial dwindles into tormenting acceptance, you are left with only the ghosts of her. They haunt each corner of your existence – both mental and physical – creating dark circles beneath your eyes that resemble tattoos more than they do skin. 
You attempt to exorcise Wednesday from your being and the vacancy within you becomes a cathedral; you pray at its illusionary, cobblestone steps but you are bent at the knees before a false god, incapable of offering reprieve. Wraiths have risen in relief’s stead – fallen too far to be ghosts any longer – and they are starving, snarling at the altar of your shortcomings. You will find no peace here when your body, laden with a lifetime of grief that ages you, is pirouetting upon crumbling earth. 
Resorting back to the roach in your trembling hands, you yearn for it to bring some semblance of life into the space you ache to fill. As you exhale, a shadow gathers in your peripheral in the shape of a girl you cannot escape. 
“I see you’ve come to dislike functioning lungs.” Wednesday dishes out, coming to stand by your sitting limbs that stretch out into the pond in front of you. Fathoming why she’s here, in the spot that once belonged to the two of you, is something you can’t grasp. 
Casual conversation is the last thing you want to participate in. It feels cheap; hollow. You deserve more than astute observations and meaningless slights. Something she’s averse to giving you, it seems, and the part of you that continues to die in its place hates her for it.
Youthfulness is forgotten when you are a rotting carcass forcing itself to breathe to a tempo that no longer comes naturally, dangling on flimsy strings that Wednesday commands, waltzing to the tune of her desires. A puppet master is what she is and you find no solace in this dance, not when the past lingers so close to the surface; of who you were to each other but will seldom be again. 
“Something like that.” You monotone, a slight shrug lifting your shoulders. 
There’s a tense set to her own shoulders at your response, the lack of expression in your voice pulling her entire body taut. A vengeful part of you revels in it, only to diminish into nothingness just as quickly, as everything else before it has. 
Your desolate eyes finally raise to meet Wednesday’s, causing hers to widen almost imperceptibly. They trace the heavy bags beneath your lashes then down to your still shaking hands and you come to understand her astonishment because up till now, you’ve managed to avoid her – a feat you were proud of. 
“Y/N…” She murmurs, reaching out for you. Wednesday’s fingers barely get the chance to brush against your arm before you’re recoiling away from the touch, water splashing up into your lap from where your legs hang in the pond. 
Oh, god.
There’s something to be said about the inbetween of dreams and reality; a certain dissonance that easily perpetuates the disruptive cognitive faults which riddle a half-aware person that the past haunts. Nightmares of memory which lead to dark, twisting backdrops that muddy the truth and serve to create monstrosities of unchecked thoughts. 
Falling asleep has always been a terrifying experience for you. In a moment's notice, you are suddenly the backseating, side character in the fluttering reel of torment plagued by the emergence of day. You have absolutely no control over the fate of each suffering you were forced to face and only hold the capacity to watch as it unfolds once again.
You are not asleep but you have spent the past months half-awake, and Wednesday’s touch yanks you right back to that night where your roles were in reverse. The details are still so fresh and it’s too much. It’s not fair the hold she has on you even now. 
“No, you don’t get to do this. Not now.” Your voice cracks, clumsily lifting your limbs from murky depths and rising to your full height. Water cascades down your form, leaving you shivering in the night air. A gasp chokes in your throat, panic seizing you and the ticking in your ears reaches a deafening roar. “I- After all this time, why now?”
Wednesday hesitates, the pause hanging in the air between you.
“Say something!” You bellow, panic turning into anger at her silence.
She shrinks back as you close the distance between you and it is wholly unlike her but you ignore it, invading her space. 
“I will never be good enough for you, will I?” You unevenly gasp out, realizing a long forgotten truth, “I plead, and I bargain, and I sacrifice, in the name of love. To heal the cracks in our façade but you stand before me, stoic as the day I met you, and give absolutely nothing in return.”
Her eyes follow your stance, expression shuttering to impassive and unseeing – hollow in a way you’ll never be able to change. All the anger drains out of you and when she goes to finally respond, mouth tentatively opening as she comes to know the sickness sinking beneath your mirage that you were never able to cleanse, you simply shake your head. 
In loving and losing her, you have lost yourself. You no longer know how to breathe air she does not exhale and disgust flares at who you’ve become; at who you’ve let her make you. Some cowardly thing, bent to the whims of a devil in the disguise of a god. 
Love is a fickle thing, so easily transforming into a monstrous being when betrayal hangs heavy in the space once wrought with the finer side of a bottled heaven. The feeling you welcome in love’s place should terrify you – for a moment, it does – but power is a corrupter in the hands of a widow. 
The implosion within you is beautifully damning – strings held in commandeering fingers snap, the corpse of you reborn in the ash of your submissiveness; flesh of the burnt coagulating into an armor made to pressurize the weight of your footsteps until the force of them cracks the earth, widening the gap of reality between the duality of life and death till it is but a mere phantom pain. 
Say, what’s a soul really worth?
You’ve already lost everything, what’s a little more? 
(– vultures have come to feast upon your bones; only the vulture is you and you’ve gorged upon yourself.)
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adventuringblind · 8 months
Text
Drive with you Forever
Chapter Nine: Find me at your doorstep
Max Verstappen x Charles Leclerc x Lando Norris x Reader
Chapter summary: summer break is interrupted, Guenther is exasperated, Seb is a father to four kids who can't communicate, and the reader reveals an interesting piece of information
Warnings: kidnapping, medical abuse, physical abuse, drugging, lack of communication, throwing up, sickness, blood, mild gore, Jos Verstappen and his great parenting skills, mentions of SH
Notes: Listen, Y'all, this is probably one of my favorites so far. It's definitely not as comical as others, but it's dramatic and has some action.
Previous &lt;-
Masterlist
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She probably shouldn't have been alone. She got comfortable in the safety of their apartment. Her newfound willingness to not let her father get to her.
She shouldn't have left that day as she walked down the streets of Monaco. Pascale had invited her over for lunch, and although she could have driven, she wanted the fresh air.
It was stupid to leave the house, she thinks, as her body refuses to work. Her useless visions apparently don't show what happens to her directly, just what happens around her.
Now she's in a strangers car, her phone broken, and the energy that had doubled since her dad stuck her with the needle not working.
Her healing had gotten better, and she'd discovered how to make new things out of old things. Her visions are clearer and more consistent, and the telekinetic abilities made her feel more like a Jedi from Star Wars every day.
Again, it's all useless now.
~
"Has anyone heard from y/n?" Shouts Charles from the living room where he had been lazily lounging on the couch.
"No. Why?" Max pops his head out of the kitchen. It's grown on Charles to see the Dutch being domestic. He's protective of his kitchen and Charles being the number one threat is not allowed anywhere near it when he's cooking.
"She was supposed to be at my mom's house by now, and apparently, she's not there."
"She did walk there, so maybe she just took the scenic route?"
"But an hour late feels like a lot for that." The anxiety in Charles’ voice is evident.
"Let's not worry about it for now. She knows how to take care of herself."
~
Nobody had heard from her that night. Or the next morning.
The boys couldn't sleep. On the phone with anyone who might know where she is.
Nothing. It's like she disappeared off the planet.
"Do you think it's her dad?" Pipes Lando. The Brit had been pacing a hole in the floor, and both Charles and Max had made him slow down to breathe properly multiple times.
None of them wanted to consider the possibility, but it could be a likely option.
"god I hope not."
~
Her room hadn't changed. The small window is still letting in a cold draft at night. The only thing telling her how long she'd been here.
Five days. Five horribly long days.
The ties around her wrists ached. Her body hurt from being repeatedly drugged and tossed around like a sack of potatoes.
There were more people here now. More then she remembers there ever being at least. She knew there were people, men, who would come in and out but she was never allowed to speak with them.
For what it’s worth, whatever they were doing to her was making her stronger. She’d been able to transfer the wounds from one person onto herself. It’s keeping her captor at ease for now but she knows he wants more.
It’s not ideal and it’s painful. It’s like she can’t get past a mental block that will allow to simply heal. She can feel it somewhere deep within. She knows she can.
Bringing someone back from the dead however, that’s not healing.
Maybe if she’s able to bring back the corpse of her mother, they’ll trade places. Her soul finally giving into the peace of permanent unconsciousness. At least then her boys wouldn’t have to worry. They could move on without her. Find solace in each other.
Maybe, she thinks.
~
Sebastian is going to lose his mind. His daughter is missing and it feels like the only thing the journalists are writing about is how she probably ran off to be a slut for a different group of guys. He was going to have the heads of whoever wrote that if he ever sees them.
The boys had been staying in Germany with him. It hadn’t taken long for the authorities to determine she’s not in Monaco. They’d come here in hopes of reevaluating. Though they were at each others throats when they got here.
Seb had practically forced them to sit down and communicate. They started working together after that.
Hanna had been forcing them to eat proper meals. Seb made sure at least one of them slept at a time. Lando had recovered from four separate panic attacks over two days. Max is trying to look strong but his puffy red eyes give him away. Then there’s Charles; the monegasque had been blaming himself for not walking with her when he could’ve.
Seb had a feeling they were going to find her. She’s a fighter. The when part is much harder to figure out.
And for all their sakes, he hopes it’s soon.
~
Two weeks.
Two weeks of this nonsense.
She wonders if everyone is racing again. Or at lease getting ready too. This was not how she intended on spending her break.
She was getting closer to giving her father what he wanted. She was pulling herself to the edge of no return every time she worked in that rotting corpse of her mother.
Tonight, though, may be her only chance at escape.
They’d forgotten to drug her before leaving her in her room. The alcohol in their systems already taking effect.
She’d been able to slide off her restraints with ease. Her abilities strength coming in handy at the current moment.
Now she quietly is pulling out her window frame. It have never been sealed but she can’t help but feel satisfied when the screen pops out with a satisfying click.
She could care less how far the drop is. She’s two stories up with grass beneath her. She push herself out the window, her body facing the wall and hand gripping the ledge.
She swings herself outward and hits the ground with a soft thud.
Then she runs.
~
She had a destination in mind. Someone at the gas station she stopped at was nice enough to let her use their gps to see how far away she was under the guise of hers being stolen. Technically, she didn’t lie.
The walk to the Haas headquarters was six hours. But she didn’t stop until she got there.
Now she can’t help but lean herself against the front door, hoping someone notices her.
~
Guenther whistles a tune to himself as he arrives at work for the day. The sun is out and the birds are chirping. The definition of a great morning to him.
The familiar female figure slumped on the ground in front of the front door completely changes his tune. He quick to get her inside and find some fresh Haas shirts lying around for her to change into.
Once she’s awake and refreshed he sits her down in his office.
“Are you going to tell me why you spent the night outside the front door?” He sounds like a stern parent. She curls into herself. It’s reminiscent of how she was when he first got her when she was fifteen. Scared, shaking, and so quiet.
He’d known she went missing a little over two weeks ago. It was the reason the summer break had been extended. The FIA had been trying to get more security measures set in place.
“I need to call Seb, please.”
~
The boys were there the next day.
Guenther had taken her to his house despite her adamant refusal. The girl had been to tired to fight and eventually gave in.
It’s not long before she padding softly down to the dining room, halting in her tracks when she sees everyone. She doesn’t say anything. She can’t say anything. The boys don’t either. They don’t know how to approach her.
He led the four males inside and sat them down at his dining room table. “She’s sleeping right now.” Questions come flying at him from the three younger men. Seb shoots them all a look that says shut up and let him explain. “I’ll warn you that she’s a bit of a mess. Her father did a number this time around.”
after an hour of sitting, the anxious boys see the female peek her head around he corner. none of them know what to do. They don’t want to scare her away after what she’s been through.
Seb goes to her first. He approaches her slowly taking her in his arms. Then everything in her snaps. It’s just like when she had night terrors and was finally able to wake up from it. This time however, it had been real.
~
She spends the night in bed with Max. The house they're staying in lacks a bed big enough for all of them.
They had played a game of rock paper scissors, which Max won. He claimed his spot next to her with his signature winning grin.
Charles and Lando decided not to take a different bedroom and are curled up at the floor at the foot of the bed instead. Their soft snores confirm that they are, in fact, asleep.
Max holds her close. Every second with her precious. She'd been crying since they arrived. No matter what they did, she seemed to have a never ending supply of tears.
He'd been the first to assess the damage done to her body.
Diagnosis: terrible. He had half a mind to get Guenther to show him where the hell her father is staying so he can personally drag him to hell.
The cuts and incisions along her torso and chest are still red and puffy. The bruises that littered her skin are awful shades of blue, black, and yellow. Her eyes are dull with dark circles beneath. Her body seemed just as fragile as the day he first met her.
He felt himself slipping back into memories from years ago. Gentle touches so he didn't scare her, slow movements because she flinched away from anyone who moved fast.
Quiet until someone tried to say something mean to him or Seb.
Now she lays on his chest. Tears still fall onto his lightly colored t-shirt. And he finds himself wishing he'd have found her years before he met her, if only to tell her he'll be there for her. No matter what anyone says, he'll always find her.
~
Seb watches carefully as she picks at her piece of toast. According to Guenther, she hadn't been able to keep much down since he found her.
She protested eating anything, but Seb is a good negotiator. He promised that when she could keep food down that they would go home to Germany. Not back to Monaco yet because people are aching to get pictures of her.
"At this rate, I'll be old and wrinkly by the time you finish."
She shoots him scowl. "Aren't you retiring? Dosen't that mean you're already old?"
"Old is a state of mind."
She takes another bite. The taste could be that of a brick, but she's so hungry it would still taste delicious.
"I can't stop thinking about the car that got me."
"What do you mean?" Seb asks gently. She hadn't talked much about the whole ordeal yet. Little bits of information here and there but nothing to help him get a picture of what went on.
"The man driving the car. I knew him."
"But he wasn't your father? Or the man at your door?"
"No, he was older than my father and larger than the man at the door." She rubs her tembles in a struggle to remember.
"No need to think about it now. They're not going to get you again. Mostly because I think your boys might start a war if they do."
Their soft conversation is interrupted by Max speaking to his phone in angry Dutch. A clear sign of Jos being on the other end.
"je doet raar." (You're being ridiculous)
Her head perks up at the phrase. A familiar one Max uses with Charles when he is oblivious.
Max hangs of the phone in a huff amd site down with them at the table.
"Can you say that again?" She looks at Max. Her request odd to him, but he obliges. "je doet raar."
"He was on the phone speaking Dutch. He used that phrase." Her head gets a shooting pain, and lights dance through her eyes as she finds herself receiving the car ride.
This time watching scenes unfold in that past. This is new. Both with her and in the context of the situation.
She's in the passenger seat, and next to her is none other than Jos Verstappen.
~
Charles has never seen Max so angry. Which is saying something because Max is angry a lot.
The scene him and Lando walked into had been nothing short of catastrophic.
A female body tucked into Seb on the couch, the German attempting to get the attention of a specific Dutch. Max obviously is not listening and is letting the most foul things he's even heard him say about his father ring through all their ears.
It's interesting in a sense. The other three had never hesitated to show their distaste towards Jos, and Seb had managed to call him a poor excuse of a father to his face on more than one occasion.
There had been a time that Max had a tire malfunction and ended his race in the wall. Jos had gotten more aggressive then any of them would have liked and he is very lucky that nobody aside from Seb had been around to see it.
Seb has a sway with words. He knows how to make them stick. So when he saw Jos' hand land on Max's cheek, he didn't hesitate to step in.
The German gently tucked Max out of the way and faced the older Dutch with fire in his eyes.
"Didn't know a tire failure was deserving of a slap."
"This is between me and my son."
"As far as I'm aware, he's dating my daughter, which makes him mine also. Touch him again, and I'll take legal action."
It was one of the only times Seb had to hold Max comfortingly in his chest. Reassuring the boy that he did not deserve any of that even as Max explained why he did.
Lando is the fastest to act. His arms encircled around Max's body. He can visibly see him relax into the Brits hold.
"Jos was the one who took me originally." The female explains. Her knees tucked up to her chest, and her head rests on sebs shoulder. Charles makes note of how she looks more exhausted now the the last time he saw her.
The words didn't register with him. Not entirely anyway. It didn't make sense. How is it even possible that Jos is in kahoots with the devil?
It would seem they are both devils that somehow raised angels. Charles will only thank them for that, and only after he's killed them.
It's terrible really, the way they look at him. She is teary eyed and apologizing while Max looks clueless. And for the first time since Charles started dating him, Max is pleading with his eyes for help. The Dutch is clueless on where to go from here.
"Knowing that, Max, if you want to leave your dad out of this, we can." Mentions Seb. He knows that the way Jos brought up Max left him confused. His dad praised him and rewarded him one second, then hit him the next. It made thinking fuzzy for him, and since his father was never all bad, he told everyone that it was a good thing. He was attached to him regardless of the circumstances.
This was different.
"If he's going to kidnap my lovers, then he needs to be put away."
"That makes this easier. Know that my home is your home as it always has been, in case things get ugly."
Max nods his head at the German. Really, Seb had been his father figure since he was seventeen. Jos didn't have much say in his life anymore
~
After a third attempt at eating toast, she was finally able to keep it down. It was forced, and she had gagged multiple times, but it was still in her stomach after an hour.
They left soon after that, thanking Guenther profusely for , once again, rescuing her at her worst.
The perks of dating a world champion is that he now owns a private jet. They got home sooner than she expected because of it.
Hanna greeted them at the door and gently latched herself to her daughter. The relief coming in the for of salty tears.
She likes being at home in Germany. Seb had made sure to keep her old room clean. He even got a bigger bed once he heard Lando joined them.
The room feels comfortable and familiar. She's even able to fall asleep when she sits on top of the soft covers.
That is how the boys found her. Snoring softly, draped over the bed with her shoes still on. They carefully slip her shoes of and reposition her where she'll be more comfortable.
Then, they leave the room and shut the door behind them. Their conversation nothing but whisper right outside the door.
"Will she be able to drive next week?"
"I hope so. Maybe Charles will have a chance if she can't, though." The Dutch snickers. Charles hits his shoulder playfully. "I'm not sure how to move forward now. It seems like anything we do only prolongs the inevitable."
"We take it on day at a time then."
~
She managed to get herself to the race track. Driving may not be an option yet, but at least she was there. Christian wasn't going to let her drive until he got her physical report back.
Really it was Max telling him the truth about how she still can't keep down a full meal and is now dropping weight because of it.
She did eat some crackers and was fine. She's proud of herself for that one.
Despite Sergio driving the second redbull, she was happy to be back. The paddock felt similar to home in some ways.
The only new thing is that she's never alone. When free practice 1 comes around, Max dutifully places her on the pitwall next to Christian. She dosen't move until somone comes to get Her.
She feels mildly like a nuisance to them since they have to pay extra attention to her now.
She's stays in their hotel room the rest of the weekend until right before the race. Everyone in the garage is shocked to see her walk in alone.
All her boys end up on the podium, and it's the first time she's celebrated since she came back.
~
Three quarters through the season, and she's still not driving. Still training in more ways than one, but not driving.
She doesn't feel like she can. Her body is still physically decimated. She's able to keep down more then just toast now, but that's on a good day.
Her powers are at the strongest they've ever been. She's managed to learn more about self-defense in case someone tries to nab her again. But with that comes sticky note threats in Jos Verstappens' handwriting.
It's starting to look desperate.
Despite the state of her uncooperative body, she still went to every race. Attempting to be as supportive as possible from the sidelines.
It didn't feel as painful as when she felt as though she lost her spot the first time. This time, she still had purpose. She is doing her best to learn how to keep her family safe. That's all she could ask of herself.
All of them were glad she wasn't pushing to get back in the car. They all know about her aptitude for pain. Christian is amazed by how she's coping and fully supports her decision. Seb seems to be cheering her on in the pits even though he's the one driving.
She doesn't even bat an eye when Jos makes a vaugly threatening statement towards her. Because if she wanted, she'd have his head through the wall in a second.
She doesn’t let herself get comfortable this time. The nagging feeling that something worse is coming a constant in the back of her mind.
~
Next ->
Tags: @styles-sunflower @purplephantomwolf @boiohboii @reblog-princess-blog @jjsprobablywrong @jayda12 @faithm120601 @eugene-emt-roe @lpab @yaaadii @80sloverry @spongebeck3101 @eviethetheatrefreak
@chanshintien
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ghost-1-y · 7 months
Text
Temptation
Angel!Mitsuri x AFAB!Succubus!Reader
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Content Warnings: MDNI, dark content, sacrilege, blasphemy, religious themes, dubcon (aphrodisiac), manipulation, sexual content, dom!reader, sub!Mitsuri, unprotected sex, oral (reader receiving), scissoring, virginity loss (Mitsuri), corruption k!nk, praise k!nk, degradation, hair pulling, concepts of "purification" and "chastity", concepts of sex and sexuality being "dirty" and "sinful", slight mentions of blood (not in a sexual context), use of bible verses (in italics), references to bible passages/stories, people who are religious may find this content offensive, please read with caution
Summary: Mitsuri had always done what she was told to do, glorifying her god and helping those who needed it. She never once thought about breaking the rules – much less her vow to chastity, until she found what initially appeared to be a human in a darkened alleyway in need of help, unknowingly falling into a trap that would corrupt her from holiness for the rest of eternity.
Word Count: ~3.3k
Divider Credit: the wonderful @/benkeibear
A/N: so, I used to be religious (Christian), so a lot of this might've come out of my own personal traumas that I experienced (eg. the concept of purification and chastity and being ashamed of having "dirty" thoughts). Obviously, I no longer hold these views (as evidence by writing these fics LMAO), but that somewhat influenced how I wrote this fic, maybe some of y'all will be able to relate? I hope you enjoy!!
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Let your light shine before them in such a way that they may see your good works, and glorify your Father who is in heaven.
Mitsuri loved the world, she loved humans and nature and all the beauty that existed in between. She would watch the sun rise upon the earth and how it would cast its rays upon trees and cities as life basked in its holy light.
She loved the night as well – how it brought tranquility and peace as those she watched over rested until the sun peeked over the horizon once more.
She sometimes wished that her light would not interfere with such serenity. 
But the world also saddened Mitsuri, she mourned as those she loved from afar returned to dust underneath grassy knolls; her heart broke as she witnessed fighting amongst nations and arguments amongst lovers. She knew that loving the world would bring grief upon her, because the world was infested with sin.
The world would never be perfect, yet she loved it anyways.
So Mitsuri spent her eternity by helping those who needed it – taking on a human form so others wouldn’t be afraid. She helped by working in food banks and soup kitchens – oh how she adored those humans who set such wonderful services up – and would afterwards walk along roads to give food to those who, for whatever reason, found such services inaccessible to them. She would volunteer in hospitals, helping the sick in whatever way she could, and would listen to their stories and offer comfort should they share their suffering with her, holding their hand in hers to offer support – however small. 
It was not a coincidence, then, that she caught sight of you, a human lying alone in a darkened alleyway, isolated from the bustling street that was doused in sunlight. You were covered in shadows to the point where it looked like darkness emanated from your body itself, curled up and alone – hiding within the stench of garbage and discarded roadkill.
Mitsuri approached you – her kindness limitless and unbounded by fear as her light blessed your shadowed figure, gentle and warm – a light that was neither blinding nor dim as you looked up at her.
“Are you alright, my love? My name is Mitsuri, I saw you here and wanted to help,” she smiled sweetly. It didn’t matter what language you spoke, since Mitsuri’s words would translate perfectly once they fell from her lips and graced your ears.
Burning lips and a wicked heart are like a potsherd covered with silver dross.
Teary eyed, you smiled up at her, “Thank you, I didn’t think anyone would come, but you’re here now.” Mitsuri’s gentle eyes looked over your condition, a cut on your forehead which was seeping a dark red, and smudges of dirt all over your body.
“Oh, love, let me get you cleaned up a bit!” Mitsuri exclaimed as she secretly materialized some cotton pads, pretending to fish them out of her pocket. She wiped the blood that was dripping down your face, “I don’t have antiseptic wipes on me, would you wait here as I go get them from a convenience store?” You nodded, staring past her shoulder. 
If Mitsuri knew any better, she would’ve thought you could see her wings. 
Mitsuri rushed across the street and bought the antiseptic wipes, more cotton pads, and a couple bottles of water before running back to help you. She knelt beside you, and began cleaning up your face. “You know, you should take better care of yourself,” she smiled softly as she wet the cotton pads with water and began wiping away the smudges of dirt on your skin. 
You said nothing, letting Mitsuri work on you. Once finished, she stood up and held out her hand, “Are you able to stand?” she asked.
You looked down at her hand and reached for it, slowly encasing it in yours, with your index finger pressing against the pulse in her wrist. A strange flush of warmth spread through Mitsuri’s arm and to her chest, causing a shiver to move up her spine. She shook her head, and helped you get up.
The warmth continued to spread and fester within her, and she couldn’t figure out why – you were human, or at least looked like you were. 
You gave her a saccharine smile, “I appreciate your help, angel, but I have to get going – I’ll see you around, no?”
Mitsuri’s eyes widened at the pet name you let slip – you couldn’t possibly know what she was – it was a coincidence, that’s all.
She who trusts in her own heart is a fool,
But she who walks wisely will be delivered.
Still, it caught her off-guard, and if she wasn’t flustered before, she definitely was now, slightly panicking despite knowing that humans wouldn’t be able to see her wings, or halo for that matter.
Mitsuri stuttered, “Of course, I– see you around.”
Days passed, and Mitsuri started to believe you’d fallen off the face of the earth – completely unable to sense your presence or soul. Yet, the warmth she felt from holding your hand did not fade – rather, it worsened, beckoning her to drag her dainty fingers along her stomach and downwards.
She shook herself out of it, but the heat lingered and pooled between her legs, so much so that it started to drip down her inner thighs – yet she wouldn’t give in to the temptation, she couldn’t – it was against everything that she was taught, everything that she believed.
Or were the beliefs forced upon her?
It wasn’t until after forty days and forty nights that she sensed you once more. It was early morning, so early that the sun had not graced its rays upon the world quite yet. You sat underneath a lamppost, its artificial light illuminating the bench beneath you, but oddly failing to reflect off of your own soft skin.
“You’re not human, are you?”
You looked up at her, a glint of mischief in your eyes as you shook your head. Standing up, you walked towards her, causing Mitsuri to take a hesitant step back.
“Don’t be shy, angel, I don’t bite – not unless you beg for it.”
“I– I’m not begging,” Mitsuri muttered, as though she were trying to convince herself more than anything.
Submit therefore to God. Resist the devil and she will flee from you.
You approached her once more, and she remained still. Taking her wrist in yours, you slowly graze your nails over the skin of her arm, tracing up and down as she spoke. Her cheeks were red, flushed hot with both the strange warmth that found its home within her soul and now the shame of actually seeking what she desired.
You both sat down on the bench, a shrub blooming with jasmine flowers alongside it – the rich scent flooding her senses as her eyes locked with yours.
Do not desire her beauty in your heart,
Nor let her capture you with her eyelids.
“Do you ever get tired of it?” you asked, fingers circling the pulse point on her wrist.
Mitsuri frowns, “What do you mean?” You take your other hand and place it on hers, tracing your thumb across her skin, sending butterflies into her stomach.
“I mean,” you started, “do you get tired of kindness? Of righteousness?” you questioned, “do you ever wish to know beyond those things?”
“Um…I–” she paused, swallowing thickly, “N-Not really?” 
It was a lie, and you knew that.
“Oh, well that’s too bad,” you pouted before leaning in towards her, “because I could show you things you’ve never even felt before, angel.” You glanced up at her, and you could see her eyes pooling with the desire to accept.
“I– I really can’t, it would– it would be against my nature.” An excuse, but a truthful one. If she consented, she would be damning herself – condemning her soul to the farthest reaches of hell.
It was something unthinkable for a being like her.
“Hmm, but nature changes over time, does it not?” you questioned, “if I’m not mistaken, I can see the want in your eyes. You desire this change, yet you won’t grasp for it. Why?”
“You– you wouldn’t be able to understand,” she stuttered, retracting her hands from yours as she formed fists with them in her lap.
“Angel, I think I understand more than anyone else,” you smirked, "to me, you seem lost – you're falling, aren't you, angel?"
You got up from the bench, eyes flashing a brief red as you looked down at her – causing Mitsuri’s breath to catch in her throat.
For the lips of an adulteress drip honey
And smoother than oil is her speech;
But in the end she is bitter as wormwood,
Sharp as a two-edged sword.
Her feet go down to death,
Her steps take hold in the house of it.
“If you wish for more than the mundanity of your everlasting life, you know exactly how to find me,” you told her, and before Mitsuri could look up at you once more, you were gone.
Mitsuri knew that it was wrong, she knew that it would go against her vows, her duties, her entire purpose, and yet – she found herself walking past that same alleyway each day, only peering into it out of curiosity before collecting herself and continuing on her way.
Until the seventh day, when she decided to stop in front of the alley, the sun beaming down on her as she stood just outside of it, as though the lined buildings on either side created a threshold that she couldn’t bring herself to pass. 
As Mitsuri peered into the shadows, she saw a figure stand up and walk towards her. She couldn’t look into the being’s soul – it was as though it didn’t have one at all. It approached her from the dark, and its silhouette depicted that of sharpened horns and a long tail which was pointed at the end. 
“Have you made up your mind, angel?” you asked sweetly, extending your hand past the threshold for her to take, “I promise, you’ll love how it feels to let go.” 
Mitsuri hesitated, but as she looked into your eyes, a fire ignited deep within her once more.
My child, if sinners entice you,
Do not consent.
It was all she needed to extend her own hand and place it in yours.
Shocks of electricity traveled up Mitsuri’s arm, much more intense than the warmth she felt before, it traveled deep into her gut, and her face flushed red as she was pulled into the shadows, fully enticed by you.
You pinned her against the wall, her back facing you. Her wings shuddered in excitement as you leaned in towards her ear, “I’m proud of you, angel,” you whispered, your breath hot against her ear, “I know how difficult it must’ve been to give in, I promise I’ll make it worth your while.” You grazed a finger along her left wing, nail lightly scraping against the feathers. She whimpered, her blush hot across her face as heat pooled in her stomach.
“I– I know you’re a–ah…” Mitsuri started, swallowing thickly before a soft moan escaped from her.
“A demon? Yes, angel, I am,” you chuckled, grabbing at her hair to pull her head back, “but I’m not here to hurt you, love, no, I’m here to make you sin.”
You turned her around and kissed her fervently, your lips sweet against hers. It felt euphoric, Mitsuri had never been kissed by anyone before – it was always said to open the doors to lust.
Then when lust has conceived, it gives birth to sin; and when sin is accomplished, it brings forth death.
However, she melted into your kiss, malleable and pliable – eager to feel more of it, the fire inside her being nurtured and stoked as you continued to kiss her innocent lips. You licked at her, and bit down on her bottom lip before parting – a string of saliva connecting her lips to yours, binding her into damnation as she uttered her next words.
“Please, I need more.”
You smirked, and leaned in towards her neck, licking a long stripe with your tongue before kissing just below her earlobe, with Mitsuri letting out tiny mewls and gasps every so often. You traveled further down her neck towards her pulse point. You left marks deep in burgundy upon her as she moaned into your ear.
“I love the sounds you’re making, angel, make some more for me,” you purred, bringing your hand down towards her heat, pushing aside the white linen to rub your fingers along her entrance. “Oh, you’re so wet for me,” you cooed.
“Nngh, n-noo that- that’s dirty,” Mitsuri whined, and you smirked.
“Trust me, you’ll learn to love feeling this way.” Your breath was hot before putting her into yet another searing kiss. She whimpered, but kissed back, slowly accepting her growing addiction towards them.
You circled her clit with your finger, and she whined, face flushed as she tried grinding onto your hand.
“That’s it, angel, take what you need, such a good girl,” you encouraged her, rubbing her clit slightly faster as she ground into you, a blushing mess as she did so. Mitsuri’s moans got progressively louder, loving the sensations once unknown to her.
“Mmh–! I– I feel strange…like something’s building up in me!” she whined, “what– what’s happening–!?”
You kissed her once more, quieting her, “shhh, angel, that’s a good thing, just relax and let it build up, okay?” She moaned again, grinding harder into your hand as she obeyed your words.
“I– It’s gonna–! I’m gonna–!” Mitsuri’s eyes rolled back, letting out a strangled moan as she came all over your hand, juices gushing into your palm as she rode through her orgasm, her hips undulating until she couldn’t take it anymore – quickly becoming overstimulated from the feeling of pleasure coursing through her veins.
“Too– too much! Can’t– no more!” she cried, tears falling down her cheeks. You licked at each stray teardrop, the saltiness of it coating your tongue as you stopped your movements with your hand.
“Such a good girl for me, angel,” you praised, and she hid her face behind her hands in pure embarrassment. You took her by the wrists and held them down.
“Don’t hide your pretty face from me, I want to see every last bit of your pleasure.” 
Mitsuri whined and asked “can you– can you do that again, please?” Her tone was so sweet, begging for more like a pathetic slut who has abandoned all of her morals.
However, you refused, “if you wish for more of that, you’ll have to please me, first.” Mitsuri looked at you, confused, before you shoved her down to her knees, her face in line with your hips – the pretty lingerie you were wearing disappearing in an instant before you took her by the hair and pulled her towards your weeping cunt. “Make me feel good, angel, and I might consider actually fucking you this time.”
Mitsuri’s eyes dropped from your face down to your pussy, admiring how sweet and juicy it looked.
When the woman saw that the tree was good for food, and that it was a delight to the eyes, she took from its fruit and ate.
So, she went entirely off of her own instinct as she brought her mouth to your heat, before licking at the wetness of it with her tongue. The sweetness of it coating the inside of her mouth like syrup; Mitsuri had never even thought of committing such lewd acts before, but now that she’d gotten a taste, she couldn’t help herself.
She started off shy, with kitten licks and tentative kisses on your clit. She may not have experience in giving pleasure, but she was there in the beginning when humans, angels, and devils alike were all created in the same image, and so she knew the insides and outs of their bodies unlike any other.
Her tongue delved deeper into your cunt, licking up any juices that seeped out of it, earning soft groans and grunts from you as you pulled at her hair. She adored your taste – it was addictive, a taste that she would gladly sin for if it meant she could feast upon it for the eternity of her damnation.
Her lips pursed around your clit before sucking gently, your eyes rolling back as she looked up at you. She whimpered, wishing you’d make eye contact with her and tell her she was doing such a good job – instead only receiving a few strokes through her hair as you thrived off of the pleasure that her mouth was giving you. Her own cunt was weeping, the heat from her abdomen becoming unbearable as she continued licking you up with her tongue – so much so that she reached down between her legs with her fingers, but before she could provide herself even the slightest bit of relief, you yanked her by the hair.
“You think you can touch yourself without my permission? Think you’re allowed to make yourself feel good? No, angel. Only I am allowed to do that. Any and all pleasure you receive, any and all sin that you commit, will be caused by me – for my sake.” You leaned down closer to her, breath hot against her face, “do you understand me?”
Mitsuri nodded, only to wince as you gripped her hair tighter.
“Say it.”
“Yes, I– I understand,” Mitsuri spoke softly as she removed her hand from between her thighs. 
“Good girl.”
You pulled Mitsuri up once more and, in an incredible display of flexibility, she raised her right leg so that it pointed up toward the sky, with you supporting her by holding her up by your hand. 
“Hah– you’re no angel, are you? Angels don’t act this way, y’know– you’re just a pathetic little slut, a pleasure-seeking whore that can never get enough,” you panted, before mounting your foot against the wall so your cunt was flush against hers, grinding against her wet heat. You grabbed her by the jaw and forced her to look at you. 
“What are you, hm? Tell me.”
“I– I–” she whined, “I’m– ‘m your slut…oh shit, ‘m your slut!”
“That’s right, you’re nothing but a stupid cumslut, aren’t you? Raised to be holy and perfect, but look at you, drunk on lust all because some demon tempted you. How pathetic.” 
Mitsuri whined as you ground into her, feeling absolutely no shame as she condemned herself further with each movement of your hips. The familiar tension in her gut started to build up once more as she took everything you gave her.
“Nngh– it- it’s happening a-ah– again!” she moaned, and you ground against her faster.
“That’s it, slut, cum all over my cunt. Sin for me.” 
Mitsuri’s thighs trembled as her orgasm flooded through her in waves, her mind addled with euphoria and lust as her pussy gushed all over you, her moans so raw and unbridled as she allowed you to claim her as yours, knowing she will never find pleasure like this through anything or anyone except you.
You are my God, and I give thanks to You;
You are my God, I extol You.
“My– my God,” she panted, “you– you are my God.” She knew it was blasphemous, yet she didn’t care, for she found a new being to worship, to love and to praise as she damned herself for the rest of eternity, certain that she would choose this over holiness in every lifetime if given the honor to do so.
For Yours is the kingdom and the power and the glory forever. 
Amen.
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Taglist: @oreo-creampie, @k-a-t-h-r-i-n-a, @wow-im-gay, @peanutpunchy, @love-me-satoru, @crazycatlddy, @pastelbluecloudy3, @dinosaur-crime-scene, @thisbicc, @gojoscumslut, @bisexuawolfsalt, @everyonesfinaldestination, @leehoonii-i, @kyojurismo, @briefrebelfanalmond, @izuoyarmin, @ahashiraswife, @d1gitalbathh, @homo-homini-lupus-est-1701
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I hope you all enjoyed!!! 💕
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cowboyfromh3ll · 6 months
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Charles + Javier intimacy HCs?
Intimacy HC ft. Charles Smith, Javier Escuella
I was in a silly, goofy mood writing these
Warnings: none
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Charles Smith
He is such a malewife
Will do absolutely everything for you so you don’t have to lift a finger
Thinks there is no better way to show his love and devotion for you than to do everything you ask of him
Would wipe your ass if you so much as joked about it
Would be more than happy to be a provider, but I can see him being a stay at home husband who does all the cooking and cleaning while you bring home a six figure salary
PRINCESS TREATMENT ONLY
Makes you so many gifts and is such a gentleman
Helps you on and off your horse, opens doors for you, helps you get seated, gives you his coat if you’re cold
Type of guy to carry you over a large puddle, it's very theatrical
If he naps on you good luck because you are not escaping until he wakes up
His arm alone is enough to keep you in place, and if he feels you trying to move away his arm will act as an iron band and pull you closer
You will never need a blanket again because he’s a goddamn furnace
I feel like he’d take the blanket from you entirely when you sleep together tho
Oh my god I just know he snores like crazy
It's a 5050 on whether or not you’re getting sleep that night. And if he’s snoring directly into your ear then good luck moving away
If you do manage to sleep before him then you will get the best sleep of your life
His biceps and pecs are the best pillows too
Javier Escuella
NOW he’s the type of guy to take his jacket off and set it over a puddle so you can step over it
If there’s rain then he’s covering you only with it while he gets drenched
Insists it’s romantic
Is attached to you by the hip
Is actually super romantic when the time calls for it, totally takes your breath away
Does that thing where he kisses your knuckles and traces it up your arm
Modern Javier would buy you a ramo buchón (Google it) and serenade you
Y'all are the best dressed couple around hands down
Inflates your ego sooo much. Whenever there's someone you don't like he'll begin listing reasons why you're better than them and how you shouldn't worry yourself with them
Spends time braiding your hair or putting flowers in it
His pupils turn to hearts when he sees you istg
Writes entire songs for you and about you
When y'all nap together it's you on his chest while he wraps an arm around you and keeps another behind his neck
WILL NOT move if you sleep on him, even if he has to piss like crazy. He'd rather get kidney stones than disturb your peace
Every time he goes on a mission he peppers your face with kisses and fully embraces you once he comes back
Always talks about having kids with you and starting a family together
Will whisper plans for you future together to soothe you as you fall asleep
Modern Javier would invite you to every carne asada and quinceañera and dance with you
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hoeforhao · 1 year
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am back finally hehe >.< and with this i start my svt as boyfriend series where i'll be posting fluffy drabbles of svt comforting you or loving you, whenever i'll feel low or have a writer's block. so if y'all want to request anything or be added to my taglist, my asks are always open♡⠀
Taglist : @joonsytip @tommolex @tara-drabbles @meowmeowminnie @qkrcjstk @chwenott @mewheree @cinnamoroxie
ꮼ ۫ ︵ (( a walk to remember )) ࣪ ִ ꕤ ִ ׂ
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~{Pairing : boyfriend!seungcheol x g.n!reader}~
"I'm home bub" a loud thud of the front door finally pulls you out from the dark void, as you quickly get off the couch to greet your boyfriend.
Taking his coat from his hands and plunging it onto the peg, you slowly make your way to the kitchen, reminding yourself that you need to feed three hungry tummies.
"What do you wanna have cheol?" asking him 'bout his preferred meal of the night, without even bothering to look at him, you try to keep yourself occupied with the utensils on the countertop.
"Let's eat out today" seungcheol cooes, as he slowly creeps up on you from behind, snaking his thick firm arms around your waist,with head plopped onto the crook of your neck.
"Not today pls. I don't feel like it" a stiff response parts your lips, while you remain completely indifferent to his wet hair perms brushing againt your nape.
"Pwease bub? Pretty pweasee?" a set of doe sparkly balls along with the cutest plumpy pout stare at you with utmost plea and solicit.
You were about to say no to those heart wrenching puppy eyes, when your feet are brushed with a sudden flooffy coldness. Looking down to see what has swayed by, only to end up finding your daughter kkuma rubbing herself against you, with the same puppy eyes as her dad, as if convincing you to accept cheol's pleas.
"See even our princess wants to go out with you today. So pls y/n???? If not for me, then for kkuma, pls?"
Not even the strongest soldiers on this planet can resist those absolutely lovely entreating beads for more than twice and you? you literally had the softest soft for your two babies ; so it's not a surprise that you'll instantly give in to your boyfriend's sulk.
"Okay okay bubbies, let's go" you give an affirmative nod to both, earning the most aggressive yet happiest tail wag from your babygirl and excited kiddo waddles from her daddy.
The dinner was delectable. There's definitely ain't no lying about the fact that no matter how gloomy or down you're, good food will always bring the brightest smile to your face, after cheol.
"Let's walk kkuma a bit, okay? She hasn't been out for night straddles for quite long" seungcheol lauded, while bending down on his knees to fix his babygirl's hair clip.
You hmm in response while you join the two on their walk, as you slowly stride by their side, enjoying the moonlit still night.
"The moon is beautiful, isn't it?" a soft whisper leaves cheol's lips, trying not to wake up his daughter, who is now sleeping contently on her mother's lap, tired out from the 10 mins walk.
"Thank you for existing cherry" a name that only you're allowed to call him, makes its way out from your crests as your rest your head on his shoulder, with one arm wrapped tightly around his torso and the other tucked as a pillow under your princess's head.
Letting your eyes fall back in peace, you thank the universe for the family that it has sent your way. You may have bad days when the past haunts you, or just normal gloomy days but not a single one goes unnoticed by your boyfriend. You find it a blessing that even without spending a single word about how you feel, seungcheol always manages to read your eyes and make you smile by the end of the day. Can there be anything more beautiful than this?
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