#great beautiful tagging system

[menlove]

queer paul tome pt 1: everything not related to john

okay i've been saying i'd make this post forever and it's uh. long. so i decided to split it up into four parts so i can get this first bit out and let it stop haunting me and so it's not 50 miles long.

feel free to add your own if it's not here or shoot me an ask and i'll add it :)

disclaimer: i'm not definitively saying sir paul mccartney is queer. i mean i really firmly think he is but it's all just speculation. also, if he is, there's obviously a reason he's not out about it & he deserves to have his privacy respected. i just personally find the dominant narrative in the fandom & even in larger spaces that poor pining queer john was in love with tragically heterosexual paul completely unconvincing and neeeeeed to be insane for a minute here

if this pisses u off u can simply scroll on by i do not need an essay in my notes. make your own post if you disagree.

(paul doing this for whatever reason in beverly hills, 1974- also the same trip he saw john on bc sure i guess)

this doesn't include lyrics as the main argument bc i saw a post ages ago basically saying there's nothing outside of them and lowkey i took that as a challenge because there's SO much outside of his lyrics that point to him being queer.

that being SAID, this is going to be split into four posts: not john related (most important and thus first bc there's so much documented about mclennon & john being queer, but not paul by himself), john related, paul's relationships w other men (these ones aren't all like... concrete and that's why they aren't included here but w all the context that'll come before it his relationships to certain men are..... interesting), and finally lyrics last bc some of them you genuinely can't just ignore

part 2- john related part 3- other men part 4- lyrics (those will have links once i actually make them)

also, i'm sure people have made similar posts before- i haven't seen them (other than this one an anon sent while i was writing this up which is sooo interesting but does have a lot of dead links) but if you have one you want to share feel free!

time to get into it. i'm avoiding homework by doing this.

(sidenote: not including instances of him just flirting w men bc body language can be read a lot of different ways- but if y'all wanna add any i know they're a dime a dozen like w george m., mal, random reporters, robert fraser, etc)

1- "Just kidding, Linda..."

REPORTER: You're a very, very good looking man. PAUL: [sits up straighter, making a sort of campy gesture towards the crowd, turning into a point] Get that boy's name. [Drops his hand, smiling and leaning his cheek on his hand.] Just kidding, Linda. REPORTER: [unintelligible] PAUL: What? REPORTER: I said- do you have a secret, looking so nice for fifty years? PAUL: [grins, resting his chin on his hand again and batting his eyelashes] Yes, it's the drugs, you know.

(originally posted on here by @northernsongspeels who hasn't been active in a while) this one is so crazy to me. he's so obviously flirting with that man and he's apologizing to linda for flirting with that man. like it's a conversation they've had before.

2- "Yes, boys."

this video (originally posted by @ilovedig here)

PAUL: Yes, I think the main difference is that when you are that age- which I'm sure you remember, Tom- TOM: It's back there in the dim distant past, yes. PAUL: When you're that age, that's the kind of thing to do. I mean, what you're doing is you're going 'round and you're basically looking for girls or whatever turns you on and stuff. So, uh, yeah, I- TOM: Well- well could you give me the alternatives to girls? Are there others? LINDA: [scoffs] PAUL: Yes, boys. TOM: Oh! No.

3- "He's so good looking."

Paul McCartney first read the name and saw the photo (for weeks there was just one crazy photo of Elvis available in Britain) during a free period at Liverpool Institute. Again, it was a friend with the NME, and there was an advert for Heartbreak Hotel. "I thought, 'He's so good looking,'" Paul says, "he just looked perfect." Mark Lewisohn, All These Years Vol. 1 Tune In, sourced from the Anthology TV series by Lewisohn.

4- "A Nice Person Girl"

this fun little interview... (originally posted by @amoralto idk why the archive.org capture of it looks funky but the audio is still there) take it w a grain of salt bc it can also just read as a homophobic joke but like.

August 22nd, 1966 (Warwick Hotel, New York): As DJ “Cousin Brucie” Morrow conducts brief interviews with each of the Beatles, one by one, he asks Paul to settle the rumours that have been circulating in the press about the status of his relationship with Jane Asher. MORROW: Moving over here to Paul – someone just handed me a card. I guess this is… [focusing] Last year, when you were on my microphone here— PAUL: Ask me something about Rick Sklar. MORROW: Rick Sklar? That’s my boss. JOHN: Ask Paul about Rick Sklar. MORROW: Uh, Paul, last year when you were on my microphone, I think somebody – one of your staff – announced an engagement of you and Jane. PAUL: Uh… MORROW: Do you remember that? It was announced on the air. And then I remember we said something on the air and then thousands of people from the street went, “Oh.” What is it with you and Jane now? How – what is your relationship? Are you planning a marriage, planning an engagement, are you just boyfriend and girlfriend, what is it? Tell us the whole thing. JOHN: [mutters; inaudible] PAUL: Uh. We’re just queer, that’s the scene. [uproarious laughter in background] That’s the scene. Well I mean, I couldn’t say that on the air live, you know. JOHN: No, you’ll get into trouble for it. PAUL: No, the thing is, Cousin Bruce – um, we haven’t got plans to marry yet, you know. That’s the point. And that business about somebody saying we were engaged, nobody actually said it. It was just another one of those things where someone says, “Are they engaged?” and they said, “Well, whatever it is… [muttering]” “Yes, folks, they’re engaged!” And it wasn’t true. MORROW: Well, I’m sure there are a lot of girls who are very happy with this. What would you look for, in a girl? Say you did eventually want to settle down, what would you want to – what kind of girl would you like? What would you – what would you like in a gal you wanted to marry eventually, bring home to Mommy? PAUL: Uh… Female hormones. MORROW: Female. What’ll you go for, any – what, blonde, brunette, what? PAUL: Uh, you know, anything. Anything. Girls. It doesn’t matter if they’re blonde, brunette, or anything, as long as they’ve got it. MORROW: Would you want a nice person – what? A beautiful nice person girl. PAUL: Yeah, you know. A nice person girl. (transcription directly from @amoralto, bold mine)

and again this one COULD just be a lil homophobic joke but idk man his tone here is very different and the fact that he says he couldn't say that on air & john says he'll get in trouble is just. interesting. it's Interesting.

5- "A 26 year old queer never to get married."

Half an hour later it was very quiet, except for a few sobs, and then we decided that we had to see him just once more. We opened the gates and walked slowly in. Someone rang the doorbell. Waited, no one came, rang again. Rang again. Paul answered. We just stood there. God what do we say? "Yes, what do you want?" he said, as if we'd just come to borrow sugar. C. ran out. Someone asked if it was tomorrow, and he said, "Tomorrow." It went quiet again. "What's this - Heartbreak Hotel? What do you think I am a 26 year old queer never to get married? Oh, stick around kids!" We just looked at each other. Oh God, Paul, what have we done now. All we wanted to do was stand there and talk awhile. What was the point in shouting at us like that? We stood there, tears falling but there was no sound. "Apple Scruffs Come to Dinner" by Andrew Bailey, 1970 (x), bold mine

again, like the last one, this one is very... i think he was absolutely being homophobic here, but it's a very telling outburst. like he's yelling this harsh enough to make these girls cry.

6- Harry Harrison's "gorgeous tan"

moving onto this wild quote from many years from now by barry miles about george's older brother (bold mine):

"George Harrison’s elder brother Harry had been to Christmas Island and arrived back with a gorgeous tan in his army uniform and we thought, My God, he’s been made a man of. You used to see this quite regularly, people would be made a man of."

7- gender neutral language

let's get into some interesting gender neutral language he uses. now, would this be Particularly compelling with a modern celebrity? not really. but most people his age really don't talk gender neutrally unless it's to be vague On Purpose. like this bit from many years from now, where before this he'd been using exclusively "girl" and "she/her" pronouns talking about hookups, it suddenly shifts to very purposefully vague (bold mine):

With a lot of those people I met and related to, albeit for a short time, I've mercifully forgotten them and I don't really remember what went on, thank goodness. There may have been a few drinks involved and I was a little merry and, you know, you slip back to someone's flat... My main feeling really is one of relief. You do feel like some of it was outrageous. But I'm glad to have had a slightly outrageous period in my life, as long as it didn't hurt anybody, because I'd always felt maybe my character was too careful. I think the great thing was I never had any deep, dark secrets. That's what the papers wanted. They wanted me to be hiding a little Miss Whiplash somewhere, and for the flat to be in my name. But it was never that. It was always a one-night stand with whoever was around and wanted to party.

8/9/10- the "binary" (ft. a bit of john)

this infamous quote from the lyrics in his section on "hello goodbye" (bold mine) (x):

I'm attracted to the binary. I state that quite casually, but I think there’s actually a lot more to it than my just saying, ‘I’m attracted to the binary.’ Once you get down to the scientific biological level, in my core, I probably am the binary. All of us are probably more binary than we might realise.

context being that when he says "the binary" he means duality. there's a lot of interesting stuff going on in this article, though there's some more john related stuff i'll add here too bc it's super fascinating (sorry, easier to go here than the john section!):

‘Hello, Goodbye’ shows off a binary that we took great advantage of in The Beatles. With regard to John Lennon and myself, the great attraction we had for each other was that we each had a bit the other didn’t have. John could be quite cynical. I was his opposite, in that respect. [...] I think there definitely was a sort of ‘hello, goodbye’ about John and myself. But we loved it. We loved it because John could contribute his caustic wit and I could contribute something more upbeat. Not always, we each did what the other one did from time to time. But if you had to break it down – and though it is a bit crude to say so – there was a binary tension at the heart of our songwriting together.

11- big guys at the gym

onto something more lighthearted and also just ridiculous (x):

"If I'm in a gym and all the big guys have got big weights and they're doing all the big stuff, at the end I do a headstand," he said. "And they come over to me [and say], 'That's pretty impressive man.'" ["78-year-old Paul McCartney’s fitness routine includes headstands and yoga with Alec Baldwin" by Cory Stieg]

12- gay dreams

this infamous quote which i have a bit of a different take on that i'll expand on in a sec (bold mine)

My view is that these things are there whether you want them or not, in your interior. You don’t call up dreams, they happen, often the exact opposite of what you want. You can be heterosexual and be having a homosexual dream and wake up, and think, “Shit, am I gay?” I like that you don’t have control over it. But there is some control – it is you dreaming, it is your mind it’s all happening in. In a way my equation would be that my computer is fully loaded by now. Maybe in younger people there’s a little bit of loading to go, but mine’s loaded pretty much, so what I try and do is allow it to print out unbeknown to me. And I’m interested to hear what it’s got in there. (interview by Karen Wright for Luigi's Alcove, 2000) (x)

a lot of people use this to point to him being oblivious, which i do get, but i want to focus more on the line "it is you dreaming, it is your mind it's all happening in". like he seems interested and fascinated by the revelations we have in our dreams- hardly repressed or scared.

13- royston ellis' "break me in easy"

we've all been over the royston ellis poem and i don't want to just retype out everything that's already on this post so go check out @eppysboys' post on the royston ellis poem!

but tl;dr a bisexual friend of theirs in liverpool, royston ellis, wrote this poem called "Break Me In Easy":

Easy, easy, break me in easy. Sure I’m big time, cock-sure and brash, but easy, easy, break me in easy. Sure they’ve been others, I know the way…

which is about gay sex. he also told the boys that 1 in every 5 men was gay and paul worried that it might be him (this was back in 1960). he still remembered it line for line by 2006 which is just insane. all the sources for those are over on the linked post.

14- woody pecker

originally posted by @didwemeetsomewherebefore here (links to my blog bc the wayback machine was not cooperating right but as long as it stays up you can find the original here!)

PAUL & DONOVAN: How to suck a lollypopper, Sitting on a woodypecker, Dancing in the double-decker shoe, I don’t know, So, how do you do? PAUL: I don't know how you do it, Lordy, knows I try But every time I try to do it, My whole darn tongue gets ti(r)ed

this one is just so sillyyyyy and cute but it's just so full of innuendo like sucking on a lollypop and sitting on a woody pecker and your tongue getting tied (tired?) when you try to suck the uh lollypop. giggling his way through it with one of his boy best friends donovan too.

15- "i heard he was gay"

this fun little quote from body count by francie schwartz:

When the rotation of bike, gun, and other diversions left me alone with Billy, his first words were, "You went with Paul McCartney, didn’t you?" "I bet you just love it when people ask you about your father, don't you?" He was surprised, he half-frowned. "No, really, what's Paul like? I heard he was gay." "He might have gone that way, but he didn't. He really didn't dig fucking all that much, if that's any kind of an answer."

note here though that francie is a notoriously unreliable source on paul. she hates him and honestly makes some pretty homophobic digs at him & others pretty frequently. so it is interesting that she denies he's gay, but says he might have gone that way. given how short of a time they were together and how weird their relationship was, i wouldn't really expect him to be open about that with her- still, she noticed something there too.

16- homosexual handbook

paul was mentioned in the homosexual handbook by angelo d'arcangelo in 1968 under a list of famous homosexuals. it's very tongue in cheek and says this "may just be wishful thinking on (my) part"

and obviously not proof as the book takes a very playful and unserious tone. he does provide this little disclaimer though, which i think is interesting:

Some of the men on this list are self-acknowledged homosexuals. Some are not. All of them are generally thought to be gay. However, as many family men and notorious womanizers appear on these pages, we must—rather than question their forays into either or both sexes—congratulate them on their obvious virility.

because once again like... WHERE are these rumors about paul being gay? because the rest of this list, as far as i can tell (ngl i did not do a deep read there) are men who have/had gay rumors about them or were gay. this comes up more in the john post as well, but i seriously need to know just how many rumors there were about him being gay.

17- "the female hordes"

It was always obvious Brian was gay and we could talk to him about gay things, but he would never come out with, 'Hello, Paul, you’re looking nice today.' I was quite obviously un-gay, due to my hunting of the female hordes, and I think we all must have given the same impression. There had been a suggestion since that John had some homosexual thing with Brian, but I personally doubt it. All the intimate moments we shared were always about girls. (from Anthology)

i know putting one of his "un-gay" quotes here is counter intuitive but listen i have genuinely never heard a gayer thing come out of a man's mouth than "hunting of the female hordes" it sends me to fucking mars every time i read it. that's the most closeted shit i've ever read in my entire life. it sounds like what a gay man would say trying to come up with something a straight man would say. and i think paul's bi, he just desperately wants me to think he's never gotten pussy a day in his damn life with this quote.

as a side-note, "all the intimate moments we shared were always about girls". now what do you mean by that man..... like shared as in verbally told stories? or do you mean it was always about the girls when you guys were...... intimate? because those are two really different things and i need to know what the hell that's supposed to mean

18/19- this poor man just wants to flirt with and kiss men can we let him

okay tumblr has nerfed me and won't let me add any more videos from tumblr but there's a video of drunk paul almost kissing ringo jokingly. posted by @stewy here and as long as it's up you can reblog it here- thank u for the contribution to my red stringing lmfao

pringo for once thank god but. i don't even have anything to say except to point and think of a slur. drunk as hell flirting with your best friend what's better than that.

and then this whole interaction between paul & elton john where they kiss on the mouth

and i could so buy that this is a straight man and gay man just being comfortable together except well see above and see the other posts but also paul's very much adapting a softer, "campier" tone around him and calling him babe/darling in a very, again, gay way. not as in he's gay For elton john lmfao but this is how to old gay friends would greet each other do you see what i mean do you understand me......

anyway that's the end of part 1 join me next time (whenever the fuck i decide to avoid doing homework again um) this man has sucked a dick i'm so sure of this. (not really don't sue me for libel paul love ya)

[gingermintpepper]

I have finished the book. It was not a very good book at all. My preliminary thoughts are as follows:

Prose is the best part about it but also one of the worst. Evocative and lovely language was used for what I can only describe as manipulating the reader. In a different book by a different writer, perhaps that would be the mark of a good unreliable narrator but this is not that kind of book and the writer, I fear, is not clever enough for that kind of narrative.

The characters - I do not think of them. Trapped as we are in Alcestis' head, she is a passive, dull thing who I do not know any better at the end of the book than I did at the start. I couldn't distinguish where her voice ended and where the author's began and it is through that haziness that all other characters are observed. Admetus is an objectively phenomenal husband but his kindness and regard is made bitter because he loves Apollo not her. Apollo is no more than a ghost haunting them both. Hippothoe and Phylomache exist as images of what Alcestis could be - a woman who dies of illness or children - and Heracles is awkward and small, quiet and passive in the way everything is in this book. Persephone and Hades are perhaps the only characters of some interest in here, but Persephone is a volatile mess of power masquerading as empowerment while Hades, like all the men in this book really, is small and passive and really only becomes worth something when out of Persephone's massive shadow.

The romance - What romance? There is no romance in this book. Alcestis imagines that what occurs between Admetus and Apollo is a romance but we do not get to see that story. The obvious regard and kindness Admetus holds for Alcestis would be romance in any other book - but in this it is described with so much apathy and loathing so as to make Admetus' actions seem unremarkable and lacking. As for Persephone and Alcestis; Alcestis wants nothing to do with her until Persephone forces her. She assaults her, like Hades assaulted her, while speaking the words of that tale into Alcestis' flesh while Alcestis rejects her and somehow this becomes the catalyst of their 'love'. There is no romance in this book.

The queer themes - I am not sure how one makes a story so easily given to a queer imagining biphobic, lesbophobic and not poly but it sure did that. Alcestis' ideas about love and sexuality and how it might possibly have different forms and fashions is unchanged from start to finish and homosexuality, for all that it is what she blames her ruined marriage on, is never explored past a few fleeting, derogatory descriptions and quickly brushed over allusions.

The Apollo Thing - Listen to me so carefully. Apollo is only in a single scene of this book. One single scene and it is the wedding scene where Admetus calls upon him to save them from the poisonouse snakes. Every other mention of him in this book is in passing, an offhanded mention of a person praying to a god, or with the underlying scorn and anger of a wife thinking of her husband's mistress. Apollo is not even there when Alcestis dies. He wasn't even responsible for Heracles eventually going down to the Underworld to retrieve her. If the author could've erased him from the wedding scene too, I'm sure she would've invented a way to do it. Apollo has no relationship with Alcestis, we do not get to see the nature of his relationship with Admetus and every other opportunity which existed to show him on their side was neatly and entirely erased. Thanatos, naturally, is completely absent from this novel.

In short, this was entirely unpleasant from essentially start to finish. I was very excited when I started this book and saw the quality of the prose and also the ambivalent character sketched of its gods but things went so rapidly and extremely downhill that I am left wondering how it was possibly flubbed that badly.

Regarding this book's feminism, I will dedicate a separate post to that entirely. To this book's credit, it did not have the superficial girlboss feminism that many of its contemporaries tend to champion but to its complete and utter detriment, the feminism it champions is perhaps the most insidious kind. The sort that excludes the disenfranchised, the impoverished and the normal woman. This book's feminism is for the privileged and the powerful and it is a deeply upsetting thing.

Lastly, I would like to thank @superkooku , @konu-d and @waterlinkedgirl for cheering me on through this absolute torment. I would not have finished this without them. Take that as you will.

If you are interested in the tale of Admetus and Alcestis or just want to read a retelling, I urge you to just read @reawakened-revenant (CiCiRose on ao3)'s God of the Golden Bow series. It is captivating, enthralling, impeccably researched and so utterly submersed in passion, love and care that it is breathtaking to read. It is a personal favourite of mine and the standard to which I hold all other Admetus and Alcestis retellings.

With all that done, I am going to stare at a wall and contemplate the horrors now. ✌🏾

[hellfyre]

i love avowed its probably one of the few newer games ive hyperfixated on like this in a long time. doing my 2nd playthrough now :)

[bunny-jpeg]

holiday party

lando norris

tags: smut/pwp, holiday party, alcohol consumption, missionary position, cowgirl position, drunk sex, assistant!reader

a/n: i wrote this on dec 24th, and never posted it... oops. late christmas fic!

the mclaren holiday party was usually a great time, a send off for the year! but this year you weren't feeling the holiday excitement. it was barely off the heels of the constructor's championship which was fresh off the heels of a long season. it wasn't like you were running the entire team, but still it was exhausting.

and as you had your third drink of the night, you saw that lando norris was just as tired as you were. you looked at one another, he gestured for you to come over to his table. he then gave you a wink and you playfully rolled your eyes and felt a blush on your face.

you and lando stayed close together throughout the night, his arm slung over the back of your chair. he even stole small sips of your drunk, but you didn't steal any of his because it was rather bitter. as the night waned on you felt more of the liquor in your system, and lando felt the same.

at one point he gave you a kiss on the lips and said, "wanted to do that all year, hope that's alright." and you grabbed him by the front of his button up and kissed him with a little more force.

"lucky for you, norris. i wanted to do the same." your voice tinged with a certain affection.

shoes left at the door, your hands worked at he buttons of his button up shirt while he got your belt off. his hand up your shirt and you giggled. you felt the heat travel through your body.

"fuck, i love that giggle. you always sound so sweet." he laughed a little and soon you ended up in the bedroom. his hands touched your breasts over your white blouse and you swore under your breath. he pressed up against you, "all of you is perfect. i'm glad that your stupid boyfriend is gone. i hated him." then he kissed you neck as he took the blouse off.

you ended up on the bed and zipped your skirt down. lando got off his under shirt and quickly the rest of your clothes were shed. you were both drunk and horny. when lando got a full view of your naked body, he swore under his breath. you were beautiful.

"that guy was a fucking idiot." lando said, "look at you." he was then pulled down closer to you so you could kiss him deeply on the lips. he groaned against you and it was a sweet sound.

when you pulled away from the kiss, "stop talking about him, he's history." you trailed a hand down his chest, "you're the future."

"fuck, you know how to get me going." he got you laid out on your back and grasped your thighs, "because you're correct. i am your future." then leaned in to kiss you deeply once more. the two of you kissed once more with your hands in his hair.

"what did you ask santa for christmas?" you asked cheekily. you felt a rush of pleasure and licked your lips, "you didn't need a pay raise or a new car. so what did the great lando norris want for christmas?"

lando's hand trailed down your sides, fingertips against your curves. he licked his lips and smiled down at you, "i could think of a few things." he laughed, "but i think santa got me exactly what i wanted." he leaned in a little closer and said, "you." then kissed you once more before he pulled your hips up against his pelvis. his cock was at full attention.

you felt a stammer in your chest as you jokingly replied, "i well i asked for hot wheel, so fingers crossed." and you both laughed before you kissed once more.

"damn, i guess i have to go out and get you some. only right that you get what you want too." before he sank into you slowly. he waned to savour the moment with you. he planted his hands on either side of you on the bed and he moved against you. the pace was slow but gained momentum.

months of skating around one another had finally came to a head lando kiss you sweetly as the two of you fucked on the hotel bed. your arms wrapped around him with your painted nail scratched lightly at the back of his head. it felt good, it felt right. and as he picked up speed you felt elated with pleasure. you moaned a little and let the feeling grow in your body.

the warmth in your blood was undeniable. you swallowed back your loud noises, you didn't want to draw too much attention to your late night activities.

he kissed your neck and your toes curled. goosebumps on your skin from his breath hitting against the leftover wet marks. he held onto the covers a little tightly to gain more support as he worked himself against you. you felt amazing.

"fuck, lando." you let out a small moan. you tightened your strong thighs around his waist. you clutched onto his stronger shoulders. lando was hot, it was undeniable. but you also admired his mental fortitude. his ability to listen and learn on the track. his hunger for victory, but his kindness and humour. no wonder you were drawn to him.

you two kissed once more and lando held onto you. with a few careful movements he managed to get you on top, you laid chest to chest now. his cock slipped out for a moment, but you got it back into you. you braced your hands on his chest. you swore under your breath as you rocked against him. your moans were near breathless and it turned lando on further. it was hot, you sounded needy. it was erotic. the normally assertive assistant reduced to sweet moans as you worked your hips against him.

the hammered in your chest only made you more excited. you licked your lips as you really worked yourself against him. the jump of your breasts and the honey sweet moans you leaned in to kiss him. before your sealed your lips against his, you said, "you feel amazing, i changed my mind. i want you for christmas."

"then slap a bow on me and put me under the tree." he laughed before he laid a quick slap across your ass which made you only more aroused. he grazed your hands down his chest as you kept moving and kissed him once more.

"you feel fucking amazing." you moaned.

"and you feel like heaven." he panted. his body heated from the sexual experience you were having. his hands at your hips and continued t move alongside you. the sex was heated, it was a rush in his blood. his thoughts were focused on your beautiful body, "fuck, baby."

you exhaled and your toes curled once more as you continued your thrusts against him. you two fit together perfectly. your stomach flipped and you could only continue to move your hips. it was a certain heat that left you famished for more. every with a slight cramp in your thigh, you continued to move.

regardless you were enjoyed yourself, you loved the intimate feeling as the pleasure grew in your body. you yearned for him as you moved in ways that made your soul sing. quite the end of the holiday party and a stellar season.

lando wrapped his arms around you and thrusted up harder into you. the race in his pulse drove him to need more of you. it was like a mantra in his head as he swore under his breath. his words for you were dirty and heavy with praise. he could feel climax like sweetness on his tongue as he groaned through a heavy breath.

he loved it, and so did you.

"you're beautiful. fuck, you're amazing." He said as he felt the surge of pleasure in his system. the kisses only furthered his lust and pushed him closer to climax.

the heat was certain and he sharply exhaled and held onto you tightly. and soon he hit his climax and finished inside of you. you clutched onto him tighter in return. euphoria washed over him and still you rode him.

heavy kisses and heavier pants. you felt a certain piece of heaven while you moved against him. you swore out loud as you continued to move. your pace started to feel erratic as you got close.

"lando." you gasped.

"i've got you, baby. that's it. that's it." the kissed continued as you came. your nails dug into him as you rode him through your climax. you could feel everything run hot. you grabbed him by the hair and gave him a tight kiss as you felt the after glow of climax.

you slowed your quick, erratic movements top a stop and pulled away to eye him.

both of you were blissed out, there was still an electric current between the both of you. you ran your fingers through his hair before he got you next to him in bed and laid out beside you. you wrapped your arms around him and he did the same to you.

you'd end up spending the night with lando, curled up in the hotel bed. you felt spoiled with cuddles and kisses, only affection for him bloomed in your gut.

come morning you slowly your eyes and felt the slight pain of a hangover. your mouth felt dry and the other side of the bed was cold. lando was nowhere to be found. you lifted your head from the pillows to look around.

while you couldn't find him in the room, something else caught your attention. on the nightstand you saw the cardboard and plastic packaging of a hot wheels toy. you laughed out loud at the sight of it. you reached over to pick it up. attached to it was a note.

merry christmas, hope to see this on your desk next season. love, lando

and while you had a dull headache, you felt yourself smile. greatly endeared by lando's antics. you eyed the toy for a moment longer.

this was quite the racing season, you couldn't wait for the next one <3

[17020]

BLUEPRINT

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ soshiro hoshina is great at following blueprints and maps, always finding his way back to you. right?

TAGS . . . fluff/crack, clingy Hoshina, reader is called 'beautiful', this is my first time writing for kn8, expect more in the future! dedicated to @nyxypoo , for helping me organize my brainrot, and also to @maruflix , for introducing me to the manga in the first place.

Soshiro "Don't get attached to anyone" Hoshina had finally come to terms with the fact that, in order to sleep he needed warmth; one which only a human could provide.

Which is why he found himself in the wee hours of the morning completely awake, unable to catch a wink of sleep. His fingers desperately tapped over the screen of his phone, typing a message. When he sent it, his attention shifted to the background photo of his chat—a picture of a certain officer watching the sunset on the dormitories' terrace.

SOSHI <3 02:41 When are you cominggg I need you

YOU 02:41 I'm going in rn, I'll be there in 5

SOSHI <3 02:42 I'll get the toolbox then Good luck, sweetheart

Having been sworn to secrecy by Soshiro himself, you could not afford to have anyone find out about your relationship with the Third Division's vice-captain. It could jeopardize your job as a platoon leader, and also put both of your lives at risk. Because gossip flows like an endless river, and could eventually reach higher-ups, or worse, an identified kaiju disguised in human flesh.

You carefully aligned the screwdriver with the last screw left. Twisting it, you took it off and placed it with the other three under your pillow, inhaling deeply before taking off the vent panel and sliding in.

You knew the route like the back of your hand, the flashlight from your phone now deemed as unnecessary, for the amount of times in which you crawled through the Third Division's vent systems exceeded the hundreds. The cameras in the hallways would deem it suspicious if you went to sneak out to Soshiro's room directly, which is why you settled on using the vents.

You crawled and crawled, turning every few minutes until you reached your opening. Poking your head out you saw your boyfriend, waiting for you with open arms.

"Aww, is my little worm ready to be carried?" he cooed, his arms now on your sides as he pulled you towards him. You scoffed at the name, "You call me a worm again and I won't help you ever again."

He tilted his head back as he laughed, heading back to his bed, which had the covers already pulled back. He climbed in and patted the spot next to him, grinning from ear to ear when you laid next to him as he took the opportunity to place his head on your chest and wrap his arms around your waist.

"You've no idea how much I missed ya, darlin'."

"We saw each other in the cafeteria a few hours ago, Soshi" you smiled, your fingers running through his hair. You felt him pout as he whined, stating that a few hours were enough to drive him wild.

"Y'know that's not enough, beautiful."

When you agreed to date the Soshiro Hoshina you knew what you were signing up for. Every breathing moment, the vice-captain had to have his hands on you, whether it was his hand grazing yours during meetings, to him latching on to you in order to sleep.

You were his drug. Plain and simple.

It didn't take long for your boyfriend to fall asleep. Your presence alone was comforting, with your body offering him the peace and quiet that he longed for after a hard day at work. Unbeknownst to him, you took a bit longer to join him in dreamland, as you first had to hear the little sentences your boyfriend murmured here and there while fully asleep.

On tonight's menu? "...jus' wanna... be like this... forever."

Apparently, 'forever' lasted for around... half a day. 'Forever' did not include an incident with a honju, which ended up in you having to stay in the infirmary, after stepping in to help someone from your platoon.

Bed rest was mandatory. Those were the orders given to you by the vice-captain, after all. Having encountered and fought a fungal-type kaiju, he demanded you spend the night in the infirmary, in case there were any issues with spores.

Soshiro eyed the photo on his phone various times, only stopping to check the time. 1:34 am. Good enough, right?

SOSHI <3 01:35 Alright beautiful, I'm going in I think you're gonna have to get up from the bed to let me in tho I'll let you know when I'm there

YOU 01:36 The iv is in my left arm so I'll be good Good luck, handsome!!

The flashlight on Soshiro's phone was on, the photo on his screen displaying the blueprint of the vent system. The trajectory was simple: go straight, then right, then right again, and then straight into the infirmary vents. Plus, it would be way easier for him to recognize, as you promised him you would play some music from your phone for him to know which room it was.

And so, Soshiro Hoshina embarked on what could be the hardest mission of his life. He wondered how you were able to do this every night without fail, then do it again in the morning before the other platoon leaders woke up. He gained newfound admiration for you as he crawled his way into your room, his forehead red from hitting his head against dead ends multiple times.

At last, he found the panel.

There it was, the soft classical music playing in the room. Weird, he thought, Yn never really listens to this type of music. He shrugged it off, believing that it might have been a special signal just for him.

"Psst—hey—special delivery coming through."

Silence. You must have fallen asleep.

"Yn" he whisper-yelled, "Angel, open the vent for me, yeah? It's kinda cramped in here."

No response.

He sighed as he pressed the call button, uncomfortably holding the phone against his ear. When he noticed your phone didn't ring, he assumed it was silenced. The vibrations surely would wake you up, right?

YOU: Soshi, are you here? I don't see you anywhere

SOSHI <3: Angel I'm here, I followed the music—didn't know ya liked classical

YOU: Classical? Baby, I'm playing Ciara.

SOSHI <3: Then whose room am I in?

The moment Soshiro heard the growl of a feline, he ended the call.

SOSHI <3 02:53 HOLY SHHIT I THINK I ENDED UP IN CAPTAIN ASHIRO'S ROOM

YOU 02:53 HOSHINA THAT WAS ON THE OTHER SIDE DID YOU EVEN READ THE BLUEPRINT???

SOSHI <3 02:54 Oh so I'm Hoshina now. You don't love me. Btw I'm stuck and Bakko found me I love you

"Vice-captain Hoshina? Is that you in the vent?"

Soshiro Hoshina swore he had shit his pants.

[dansroo]

Are we not supposed to be already married?

based on this request.

content; Jayce Talis x male!reader. modern!au. husband!Jayce. fluff. silly and cloying romance. established relationship. married couple. suggestive!, teasing. just lots of love and kisses. 🙂‍↕️

word count; 1.3K (I promise that this time I wrote the correct number)

a/n; I had to republish it because, for some strange reason, it didn't appear in the tags. 👀 english is not my first language so I apologize in advance for any grammatical error !

thank you for requesting! 🤍

You looked at your notes with great satisfaction. You had been working for the last few days on the development and design of a better processor; your beta design had been a complete success, so you decided to exploit your skills and improve yourself even more. Likewise, you knew you had the potential to achieve something much better, and you weren't going to waste an opportunity like that.

The little blue stone moved between your fingers as you observed it carefully. It had been a significant challenge to get Hextech and programming to complement each other without causing an explosive disaster, but it was something you strangely enjoyed, especially the reactions that magic had when coming in contact with computational systems.

Although it was very different for Jayce, who had to take care that you didn't end up losing an important limb.

The sudden touch of hands on your shoulders pulled you out of your bubble. “Can we go home now?” you chuckled, feeling his hands slide down your arms and then get tangled around your waist. “Please?” he whispered in your ear, causing a couple of tickles.

“Just finishing this, then we'll go home and see about dinner.”

You took a worn chalk, started to correct and write new equations on the blackboard in front of you, while you kept fidgeting with the small stone in your other hand.

You glanced sideways at Jayce's hand as it rose to gently take you by the wrist.

“Where is your ring?!” He asked with indignation, observing the absence of it on your finger.

You rolled your eyes, smiling with amusement “It's on my desk, I couldn't risk something happening to it while I work, right?”

“Or maybe you don't love me anymore and you want the divorce” you heard him say in an exaggeratedly sad tone, hiding his face in the gap between your shoulder and neck. “Geez, don't be so dramatic.” you said, laughing, listening to his laughter being muffled by the fabric of your shirt.

His arms didn't move from their place, still hugging you from behind. Eyes following the path that your hand was tracing on the blackboard and a smile on his face every time he heard you whisper unconsciously. He loved watching you work.

There was so much calm and silence that, for a moment, you had forgotten he was still there until you felt him place a soft kiss on your cheek. You smiled, feeling his hands letting go of your waist.

“So, did you manage to convince Viktor to go home early?”

You heard his footsteps, and judging by the sound of a chair's legs being dragged on the floor, you deduced that he had sat at your desk. He took the time to explore your workplace, admiring a beautiful framed photograph resting on it. Jayce never missed an opportunity to look at that frame whenever he could.

It was of you and him, at the beginning of all this dream of his—both were so stupid to notice the love you had for each other. It was as if his heart beat again the same way it did the day he dared to kiss you—a clumsy but sweet kiss.

Your engagement ring was placed right in front.

“Oh, yeah… we should invite him to dinner with us one day, what do you think?”

You placed the chalk at the bottom of the blackboard, giving it one last look before you turned in his direction. “I think it's a great idea.” you smiled as you walked towards him, sliding your hands into your pockets. Once you were there you sat on the edge of the wooden desk—not without first storing the little blue stone in the metal box—, with Jayce next to you sitting in your chair. You yawned, listening to the sound of the light drizzle outside; turned your head to look at the window, where you began to see the small drops accumulate on the glass—tarnishing it almost completely.

You feel his fingers wrap around your arm, forcing you to take you hand out of you pocket. A giggle escapes from your lips as you watch him holding your ring.

“Would you marry me?”

“Are we not supposed to be already married?”

“It doesn't matter, let's get married twice.”

“I told you that we should have brought the umbrellas, Talis”

You sighed as you took off your soaked shoes, leaving them at the entrance. At first, it was a harmless drizzle; then it turned into a complete furious storm that ended up soaking both of you���as you had predicted this morning.

You removed the hair from your face, which was starting to stick in your skin thanks to how wet it was. “I know, I'm sorry, I didn't think it would rain this way” you heard him say between nervous giggles. “Didn't it bring you memories?” he asked you, with a silly and contagious smile. You sighed again, approaching to him.

“Let me think, like the time you fell on your face and—”

“Oh please, no, we've already talked about that.”

You laughed heartily; you knew which other memory he was referring to. But for God's sake, falling while you trying to calm your angry partner in the rain it's not something that you can forget so easily.

But not everything had gone so wrong that day, he had achieved his task after all.

“What am I going to do with you?” you asked, gently removing a small leaf that had gotten tangled in his hair. “I think the real question is, what haven't you already done to me?”

You shook your head slightly, laughing as you ran a hand over your face “My god, shut up.” you murmured embarrassedly as you hit his arm, making him laugh.

“I think I should consider the divorce.”

“Hey!, don't joke about that!”

Your laughter echoed down the hall, as you headed to your shared room. Jayce didn't stay behind, following you some time later.

The rules were simple, the one who lost made the dinner.

Both were curled up on the bed, with a large blanket covering your shoulders, wearing dry and warm clothes. After taking a hot shower, you both had started arguing about who would cook today's dinner; you decided that the only way to know was to leave it to the loser.

Your score was the highest, just for a couple of points. You mocked in silence, listening to his complaints.

“You're making fun of me?”

“Of course not—” you were about to make the final move to win when you felt him kiss your cheek, cradling your face with his hands to turn you completely toward him. “What the hell are you doing?” you said, laughing, as he kissed your whole face.

“I can't kiss my husband's pretty face anymore?” he replied, kissing the corner of your lips and then kissing you properly. Your body fell onto the bed—the control slipping from your hands in the process. The path of his kisses returned once more across your cheeks, gliding down to your jaw and finally reaching your neck. Initially, just were clumsy kisses, tickling you; then they became hungrier, wetter.

You clung to his arm, letting out a soft gasp as your eyes closed— just what he wanted. You were so focused that maybe you wouldn't notice that none of his hands were touching you, as usual.

“GAME OVER.”

You opened your eyes abruptly, feeling him smile against your skin. “What the-” you pushed him away, taking him off you—listened to his chuckle.

“Jayce Talis, you're a damn cheater.” you pointed your finger at him, laughing, after you stopped looking at the screen in front of the bed to turn and see him.

“Don't say you didn't like it.” he whispered, hugging you from behind to lie you down again on the bed, where you two were curled up all day.

Well, until you had to get up to cook.

© dansroo.2024.

[gghostwriter]

Hold Onto You

Spencer ruminates about his relationship—their past, present, and hopefully future

Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader Tags: Fluff w.c: 1.49k a/n: Feeling highly rusty but the only way out of a writer’s block is through. A huge thank you to emme (@thegloryofliterature) for being my draft reader and for being one of the few moots i run to when a fic idea comes. Comments and reblogs are highly appreciated! 💗 masterlist

The grandfather clock tucked in the little corner of the newly renovated living space struck 1 am. Candles littered in various table tops, its’ wick flickering close to exhaustion, wax melted all around.

Its’ occupants, the owners and their guests, were murmuring their goodbyes, some slurring their words compared to the others. Penelope Garcia, a fine example, was flushed from the copious red wine and with her kitten heels dangling from her fingertips, leaned against the protective arms of one sober Derek Morgan. 

“We had a great time,” JJ smiled at the couple, her cheeks a shade of strawberry pink from the alcohol consumed. 

“The new place also looks great,” Emily nodded before one corner of her lips quirked up into a smirk. “Which we all know is mainly due to your taste rather than Spencer’s.” 

You giggled as Spencer let his indignation known. 

“You’re all welcome back anytime, truly,” your left bare hand finding solace on your boyfriend’s chest.

Morgan chuckled. “We might just take you up—”

Penelope squirmed in his arms, her manicured hands reaching across the threshold to squeeze yours once more.

“You’re so so—” she lengthened the vowel, hiccuping in between. “—sweet. I could just eat you up—”

“Garcia!” Spencer groaned. 

“—but I won’t cause boy genius won’t allow me to,” she pouted.

“And that’s our cue. Good night you two and thanks again for tonight,” Morgan tilted his head to address the youngest member of the team in jest. “Reid, don’t do anything I won’t do, alright?”

They all laughed at his reddening cheeks.

Saying their farewells, the couple watched as the four step onto the awaiting elevator. Once the lift started their descend down, they shut their own door and settled into the abrupt silence of the apartment. 

Spencer watched as his girlfriend of four years burst into giggles, shoulders shaking from the act.

With shiny eyes meeting his, “I had fun tonight, really.”

Any remnants of trepidation from tonight flushed clean from his system, as if the elation shone on your face was all he need to feel all was right in the world.

It was an emotion he wrangled with still, no matter how many years had passed. Spencer knew the statistics of FBI agents in correlation to keeping a relationship alive, the odds were stacked against their favor. 

He didn’t need to look far, his supervisor was an illustrious example of flourishing in his career but floundering in his personal.

So when Spencer started this relationship, his shoulders would tense up from every phone call that took him away from you, as if this case would be the one to break the camel’s back. Or as if this one or the next coming would cause him to turn from being a partner for an incredible woman to being a single entity, alone, missing what he once had. 

He hadn’t told you his worst dreams while away for a case. How he’d hear your melodic laughter in a hazy crowded room, familiar but no longer his, eyes tracking your beauty and smiles in the arms of another man. 

Spencer would wake up drenched from sweat and heart trying to beat out of his chest to the sweet reality where you’re still his and not once well-known stranger just inches out of his orbit.

He vividly remembers the first time he merged his world with yours at an annual gathering at Rossi’s mansion where he meekly asked, in private of course, if he could bring a plus one. 

The senior agent squinted his eyes in return, possibly analyzing any signs that could have pointed to this moment, before breaking into a smile, nodding, and patting his back with a warm chuckle. 

But for tonight, he had felt nervous and if he was being honest with himself, afraid that this moment would finally scare you away from the chaotic fold of his life. 

A fold he was on the verge of including you in for longer—for as long as you’d allow him to. 

“I had fun too,” he breathed out, a soft smile settling on his face. “Even when I had to listen to Morgan detail how much of a klutz I was during the early days.”

You took his hand into yours, rhythmically squeezing as you pulled him to the messy dining table. “Well, I for one thought it was cute—” the tips of your nose scrunching adorably. “—falling into a pool and getting kissed by a celebrity, just wow Spence, not everyone has that type of first kiss.”

The tips of his ears turned a brighter shade of red, mind desperately trying to string along words for defense.

Not waiting for his feeble attempt to contradict your teasing, you flitted around the table, gathering a series of plates as you went, skipping and side-stepping as if you were dancing to your own music.

He watched as the hem of your floral skirt softly swayed, entrancing him to blindly follow your lead. A moth to an ever bright burning flame.

He hovered behind you, caging you in, and the little space in between your bodies turning into static.

Spencer placed his warm hands your waist, the soft fabric and the skin underneath giving way to his grip, thumb running circles on the sliver of exposed skin beneath your blouse.

You giggled, sending vibrations to his chest and tingles to his ears, as he placed a constellation of kisses on your cheeks, trailing down to the soft arch on your neck.

“If I could consider our first kiss as my first, I would,” he whispered against your skin.

“Your eidetic memory begs to differ, love.”

He huffed, lips quirking to a pout. “It’s the thought that counts, wouldn’t it?”

You hummed under your breath, agreeing with his sentiment. 

His fingertips slowly traced its way to your own, caressing a trail that pebbled the skin underneath his feather light touch. Running your intertwined fingers under the streaming water before turning it off, Spencer gently tugged you towards the center of the kitchen.

Unobscured by any furniture, he tucked you safely under his chin, softly humming a song ever so familiar and swayed with you under the dimming orange glow of candlelights. 

The silence, heady from emotion, cocooned the two lovers in its embrace. Your choice of perfume, reminding him of rain against a night pavement, wafted through his sense, lulling his heartbeat to a baseline.

Spencer had spent numerous nights, watching you in deep sleep beside him, wondering if all the roads he hadn’t taken would still lead him to this—to you.

Were you the absolute destination of his otherwise convoluted life? The crystal clear pond at the end of a sweltering desert or an angel sent down by the heavens to one of its heavily wounded soldier or perhaps the absolute answer to his own mathematical and theoretical question called purpose?

If he had made just one mistake, would he still be here, waltzing with you at early in the morning, surrounded by dirty dishes and empty wine bottles on the counter top and no soul awake to watch their phantoms dance as one?

He squeezed your waist three times reassuringly, reminiscing the highs, middles, and lows you had stuck through beside him. 

His recovery from a gunshot wound, how you took time away from work just to make sure he got back to his own two feet. Mundane runs to the grocery store with a golden tint in his memory, making him feel like a little kid experiencing a taste of freedom and Emily’s death on the hands of Doyle, regardless of how untrue it was and the almost relapse from his festering emotions of being called a genius, for being too smart but still being too late to save her.

He wanted everything life would throw at him with your presence right beside him. The warmth of you, your steady hand clutching his, and your eyes sparkling from trust and belief you both would make it through.

Spencer wanted the connection with you to never be severed and for your story to continue on like an epic revisited by generations to come.

When he was young and still naive, he’d wonder if happily ever after truly existed or if was just a jaded author’s hopeful wish to create one in this bleak struggle of life. 

But here, with you in his arms, the neurons in his brain all echo an affirmative, that it does exist.

And it exists right here with you.

A definite ending.

A happy ever after.

So when he closes his eyes and places a litany of kisses on you forehead, he imagines your left hand, enclosed in his, wearing two rings—one of them now still safely hidden in his sock drawer and the other, a simple gold band linking to his own imaginary, and a white picket fence with high pitched squeals and laughter echoing from its’ ever green backyard.

Comments and reblogs are highly appreciated!

[fine-nephrit]

🥏 Where to find good XF fanfics

👽 On Tumblr

@lilydalexf has an encyclopedic knowledge of fics and continues to be an invaluable resource. You'll find a boatload of themed fic lists, individual rec posts and helpful answers to anon asks.

@txf-fic-chicks-blog seven years of almost daily recs, with well-written blurbs and a lot of fun, run by @kateyes224 and @piecesofscully. Look out for their themed days: "Casefile Monday", "Tumblr Tuesday", "Editor's Pick Wednesday", "Post-Ep/Missing Scene Thursday", "Novel Length Friday", "Smut Sunday", and the very cool "Because You Watched"

@msrlibrary a well-tagged library of MSR fics; each entry includes a short excerpt and a nicely chosen image from the show.

@201daysofxfiles a rewatch blog by fandom veteran @wendelah. Each episode in season 1-7 is paired with its own fic rec post.

@enigmaticxbee an aesthetically pleasing and neatly organized rewatch blog that is packed with great content, including excellent fic rec lists categorized by season, story type, trope, and more. Each episode guide sometimes features related fic recs.

@thatfragilecapricorn30 posts one fic rec every Friday, accompanied by a nice writeup.

@randomfoggytiger curates many fic rec lists sorted by often fun and creative categories.

@cecilysass has a google doc titled "fics I love", which is a fantastic fic list categorized by story type, complete with thoughtful blurbs. She's also shared two episode-related fic rec lists on Tumblr: here and here.

@pookie-mulder writes a monthly fic journal with good recs.

**self-promo plug** I post fic recs on my Tumblr blog @fine-nephrit under #nephrit's fic rec. Plus, I reblog others' fic recs that I come across!

👽 Rec Communities

XF Book Club: the best thing ever, an absolute gem that deserves to be preserved for posterity. During its run, 270 fics were recced and discussed in depth here. The community's intelligent and insightful comments on this blog are sometimes even more enjoyable to read than the fics themselves.

The Fic Filter (xf tag): well-curated selections with short blurbs.

Multifandom Het Recs (xf tag): a major rec site's xf section that offers nice "why this must be read" writeups. @het-reccers

Crack Van (xf tag): another major rec site with a big xf section, featuring endless recs and blurbs

Fancake (xf tag): another major rec community's xf section boasting an extensive thematic tagging system

👽 Personal Blogs

Emily Shore aka Naraht: meta essays, fanvid recs, fic recs—great stuff aplenty

Bad for the Fish aka Scarlet Baldy: fantastic fic list paired with highly enjoyable reviews and analyses of the fics she's read. @badforthefish

Ramblings of a Mind Untamed: reviews of a dozen or so classic fics

xxSKSxx XF Fanfic Recs: still active in 2024! @xxsksxxx

X-Libris: more of a fic library, this is the best place to download nicely-formatted ebooks of pre-AO3 oldies. What I love most is the incredibly detailed and extensive tagging system.

👽 Individual Rec Lists with good writeup

Character Manifesto - Dana Scully: a character analysis and 10 Scully-centric fic recs, categorized by "best of .." selections. Amazing format and choices!

Character Manifesto - Fox Mulder: same format as above for Spooky

bachlava's awesome fic rec essays, covering classic fics and slash fics

ShipRecced blog's classic MSR fics and newer MSR fics recs

luminary's 16-fic rec post

RivkaT recs fics and writers @rivkat

Anna Otto's favorite stories

Syntax6's rec list on her site, great rec list on Tumblr and FTF rec list @syntax6

👽 90s Old School Rec Sites

The Basement Office - Musea: a treasure trove of extensive fic lists with lovely written blurbs, recced by a group of talented writers from back in the day

The Other Side - Fanfic Recs from Beyond the Grave: a large collection of 'scary' or 'spooky' story recs with nice blurbs. Beautiful web design.

the Rookery - Favorite Authors: nice commentary on a list of classic fic writers

X-Files Fanfiction 101: an intro guide to fic categories and what to read for each

The Primal Screamers: a fun site run by a mailing list that hosts fic recs with blurbs, and a 'Coffee Talk' section full of delightful discussions of canon

Idealists Haven - Elemental Fanfic Archive: an archive with rec blurbs

Chronicle X: a large, well-organized archive with blurbs, plus a 'Can We Talk' discussion section of novel-length fics, plus a total of 46 author interviews. Simply incredible!

👽 Special Mention

The X-Files Lost and Found: a fic finder message board that is miraculously still very active today—How wonderful! Its FAQ page hosts a huge collection of well-categorized themed fic lists (not recs), including "Classics (or, Your Fanfic Education is Not Complete Until You've Read ...)".

Where do you find your next read? What did I miss? Reblog and share your favorites!

[loucifersbitch]

This is a short story.

It starts with Buck entering a nondescript building. He walks up to the guy at the front desk and gives his information. He's greeted with an insincere smile, a name tag with only a number on it, and a sheet of paper with a list of other numbers.

476 - female

627 - nonbinary

172 - female

291 - male

703 - nonbinary

811 - male

712 - male

266 - female

315 - no gender given

Buck can work with this.

He follows the arrows down a long hallway, noticing the ancient sprinkler system and immediately wondering if it's up to code.

Not the time, Buckley.

The arrows lead him to an archway on his right, the large room - maybe it used to be a ballroom - coming into view. It's nicely decorated, but the wallpaper dates the place, and he notices some of the vinyl flooring peeling up in multiple spots.

It's fine, whatever. Could always be worse. Right?

A bell in the corner dings. He sits down in his designated seat. There are a lot of people milling around, some chatting together, others attempting to blend in with the wallpaper. Buck looks at the seat across the small table and wonders if any of the people who are about to sit there will be The One.

The thing is, he doesn't have high hopes for this event. He's been trying to get back out there, but no one has piqued his interest. His KitchenAid mixer is his longest lasting relationship now.

Speed dating hadn't been on his mind in the slightest, but he kept getting ads for this place anytime he watched a video or played a game on his phone. So, what the hell. Worth a try, right?

It's been almost eight months since he - since Tommy - left. Buck shouldn't still be pining after the man, but fuck, he saw a future there. He had plans and ideas and an extensive internet search history of men's wedding bands. But eight months? He should have moved on by now.

"Hi."

The cheerful voice pulls him from his thoughts. It belongs to a woman, and she's beautiful. She has brown eyes that look almost golden in the light from the massive windows, and her hair has obviously been colored to get that level of blonde, but it suits her. The name tag on her lapel says 476.

"Hi," Buck says, trying for a smile, but even to himself, it doesn't feel genuine.

Already going great.

Date 476 is interesting. She's studying to be a lawyer and has a cat named Hugh. She seems nice, but that's all Buck remembers about her.

The bell dings, 476 gets up, and that's that.

Date 627 sits down and immediately compliments Buck's sweater. He refrains from making the boyfriend material joke. He asks a few questions, but 627 doesn't seem to want to give much away in terms of personal information.

Fine.

The bell dings.

Date 172 has Buck immediately on edge. She has that overly-familiar look in her eye as soon as she sits down.

"Have we met before?" she asks.

Buck tries to think of something - anything - but he doesn't remember ever meeting her.

"Then maybe I've seen you somewhere. Are you an actor?"

"Uh," Buck laughs, "no, nope. Never been an actor."

"But you've been on TV?"

"Well, the news, I guess."

Her eyes light up at that.

"Oh my god, you're that firefighter! The one that died!"

Buck suddenly wishes for another bolt of lightning.

"Uh, yeah. Yep, that's me."

"Wow."

She starts to settle further into her seat, and Buck can feel the questions coming, so he cuts her off before she can start, asking her as many questions as he can think of in quick succession.

The bell dings. Buck exhales.

Date 291 has Buck nervous in a different way. He's tall, and walks with a confidence that's very similar to T-

No.

Don't think about him right now.

But 291 has blue eyes and dark wavy hair and a strong jaw. He obviously works out often and keeps in shape.

Buck is immediately taken with him.

Until he opens his mouth and asks, "So are you a gold star gay, or should I just move on?"

"A gold star gay?" Buck asks.

"Have you fucked a woman before?"

Ah, this guy is classy.

"I think you can move on," Buck says by way of answer.

The guy's mouth drops open as if he's shocked, but Buck is already getting up from the table. He could use a restroom break anyway.

When he comes back, 291 is gone, thankfully.

Date 703 is cute. A barista studying physics at USC after traveling across the country from South Carolina. They talk about their travels and misadventures, and Buck is actually disappointed when the bell dings this time. If nothing else, Buck wants to be their friend. He should've gotten their number.

Date 811 is - well, the only word Buck can think to use is 'cute.' He's a teacher at one of the private high schools in the city, and he volunteers at the food shelf on the weekends. There's no spark for Buck, but 811 seems like a really sweet guy.

Date 712 is —

"Tommy?"

Tommy stops short when he gets to Buck's table.

"Evan."

He sounds surprised. Almost breathless.

"I didn't realize you'd be here."

"Uh, yeah. I didn't think I'd see you here either," Buck says.

Tommy just stands there awkwardly. Buck can see other people starting to look their way, so he gestures for Tommy to sit down.

"I should leave," Tommy says. "I don't want to ruin this for you. I'm sorry, Evan." Then Tommy inhales sharply. "I should say 'Buck,' shouldn't I."

"No!" Buck says, a little too quickly. He lowers his voice. "No, Tommy. You - you should call me Evan. You can always call me Evan."

A smile flickers at the corner of Tommy's mouth.

God, Buck has missed Tommy's smile. And his eyes. And his hands. And his voice. And his broad shoulders. And his —

Buck has missed Tommy.

"I miss you," he says.

He doesn't mean to say it, but it slips out.

Tommy looks surprised.

"I do," Buck presses on. In for a penny, in for a pound. "Nothing has been right since you left." A pained look crosses Tommy's face, but he doesn't say anything. "It's just been one thing after another. There's a long list, but the most recent things are my sister recovering from having her neck sliced open and Eddie moving back to Texas. I'm living in Eddie's house, and everything is different than it used to be, and yet -" he takes a steadying breath, "- every night, the only thing on my mind is 'I miss Tommy. I really fucking miss Tommy.' It's been eight months," he huffs a self-deprecating laugh, "and I can't stop thinking about you. Pretty sad, huh?"

"Evan -," Tommy starts, but then he looks around. "This isn't the place to talk about it. Can we go somewhere when this is over?"

Buck is already getting up and removing his name tag.

"It's already over. Let's go."

"Evan, I still have people to meet. Shouldn't we wai-"

"I still have people on my list, too, but this is more important."

Buck holds a hand out for Tommy, wiggling his fingers in invitation.

Tommy finally smiles, full and bright. He takes Buck's hand and stands, leaving his own name tag on the table.

[fairlyang]

Amor Prohibido 🕷️

a west side story au

w/c: 2.9K

pairing: miguel o’hara x latina!reader

tags: 18+ smut. opposite gangs, forbidden love, not caring x2, cunnilingus, dirty talk, fingering, español (era necesario), he’s a sweetie, masquerade dance, chino is a opp, double reveal but they’re all pissed, you don’t care and leave, car sex, voyuerism, unprotected sex, riding, sweet ending

taglist: @reader-1290

smutmas masterlist | main masterlist

you were supposed to stay away from him. your older brother had always scolded you about only going out with one of your own. didn't have to be your exact ethnicity but they had to be latino, not any of the white guys.

you found that to be harder than expected. mainly because you didn't really care for his rules. you were always a rebellious kid and sister so now being in your early twenties that didn't exactly change.

so he continued to repeat that after you've only been in the states for less than two years, you knew you'd be in trouble.

at least that’s what you thought until you found someone that maybe you could cheat this system with. Miguel O’Hara was half irish and half mexican, with tanned skin, dark slicked back hair, and a thick accent to match.

his dad was a rich man, married a mexican woman so that’s why he was able to be in the jett’s, because they ignored the mexican half. he wasn’t exactly like the rest of them, openly hating on any and all latinos who come into the city because he’s seen firsthand how his mom was treated.

he was kind, thoughtful, and sweet. everything you’ve ever wanted in a man so your brother would just have to deal with it.

he was the man of your dreams, but of course there was a downside, probably the worst one, yet that wasn’t enough to put him off you or vice versa.

being the all too rebellious girl you were, you freely were sneaking back and forth with the second in command of the rival gang opposite your brother's and you didn't care too much about it. especially not when he was between your thighs, eating you out like he hasn't had a proper meal in years which was ironic because he never misses a meal, let alone his dessert.

his mouth was sucking and flicking your clit while he pumped two fingers inside you. he always took great care of you, making sure you don't go a day without a proper orgasm.

the worst part was that you let him.

you really couldn't help it, not when he was making you moan so loud and feel so good that you could practically see stars. it was to no surprise that you couldn't push his advances away, even if you tried he’d just convince you anyway.

he pulled away for a few seconds just to tease you because it always had you squirming, clenching tightly against his fingers, "like that baby?"

you could only nod your head, feeling too good to give him a proper answer. he didn't accept that though. he needed to hear you, especially if it was in your native tongue.

"tell me how much you like it, pretty girl.." he murmured, looking up at you with those pretty brown eyes while you just pouted.

"mucho- p-please dont stop." you whined, reaching down for his head so he can keep working his magic. (so much-)

"eager girl... you know you shouldn't even be with me but here you are, desperate and aching for me.. so fucking dirty, mi amor." he teased only making you whimper, especially at his usage of such an endearing word. (my love)

given every pet name that slipped past his lips had you like a lovesick fool but still, you were losing it even more, "fuck miguel- por favor- i n-need more!" you whined once more, bringing a grin to his face. (please-)

“pues porque me lo pediste así…. como no, hermosa?” he says under his breath before going straight back in to suck on your clit. (well since you asked like that… how could i not, beautiful)

you gasped and brought a hand down to his hair, tugging on it making him groan against you. it sent shivers all over your body and made his pants feel even tighter.

he loved the forbiddenness of your situation. knowing you shouldn't be doing this, from either side but not being able to help yourselves. he was just, if not more obsessed with you which said a lot.

he closed his eyes and focused on the sweet taste of your arousal, always so fucking good like an ice cream sundae down at the diner. sadly he couldn't take you on any proper dates because it would be odd to others and you didn't want miguel to get into any trouble. have it be by riff, bernardo, or his parole officer.

so he would close up shop early for his boss, who was an elderly puerto rican lady named valentina. definitely accepting of your relationship and having grown very fond of miguel, like a son, of course she was going to help him sneak you in. also given the fact he was on parole and this was now his home, he didn't have much of a choice anyway.

he brought his left hand up to your body, first to squeeze your left breast just earning himself the sweetest gasp from you, then you decided to grab his hand and intertwine your fingers together. his face flushed and he felt his heart beat faster, your eyes were on his and he was determined to make you come in his mouth.

he stopped for a split second just to add a third finger then he pumped her fingers faster and harder than before. you squeezed his hand tightly prompting him to do it right back while you quickly felt yourself getting closer to the edge.

“miguel! fuck- por favor- no pares-“ you moaned and grind your hips up desperately. (please- don’t stop-)

he moaned against you, practically grinding against the mattress while pumping his fingers as fast as he could. your walls entrapped them and he started curling them up to hit your sweet spot, purposely knowing you’ll come faster.

he pulled away for a few seconds just to egg you on, “gonna come for me baby? sabiendo que ni debes hablar conmigo?” (knowing you aren’t even be talking to me?)

“fuck miguel! si, claro que si-“ you cried and felt your legs start to shake.. (yes, of course yes-)

“así, mi amor, así.” he cooed softly, eye back on yours, “come on baby.” (just like that)

his sweet tone was enough to send you over the edge, gripping his hand tightly while you cried out for him. he kissed your inner thigh, slowed down his fingers, and giving you more praise while you rode out your high.

you closed your eyes and clamped your legs shut, feeling so overstimulated. he slowly slipped his fingers out, a loud plop filling your ears as you covered your face with both hands. you could hear his chuckle and his shuffling as you calmed yourself down.

suddenly you feel his arms wrap around you, pulling you towards his chest and you weren’t going to deny a nice cuddle. you laid your head on his chest, swinging an arm over his body while you listened to his heart beat.

there was something about the aftermath that just made this more real and loving. you didn’t know how your future would look but there was no way in hell you’re letting something this good, go to waste or into hands that already had a turn.

the following weekend there was a masquerade dance being held at the gym in the rec center and miguel wanted to be introduced as your boyfriend knowing damn well that could be the cause of world war three. but he didn’t really give a fuck, willing to fight for your love and more importantly, end this dumb terf war between both the gangs.

the dress code was black and white, just so everyone would be somewhat the same. the lights were flashing so it was easy for you to sneak in with miguel.

you were both wearing black masks that had white designs on them. you in a black swing dress that anita made for you, off the shoulder with white pearls along the edges. perfect for the occasion.

miguel was in the nicest pair of pants, borrowed from his father as well as a black button up shirt.

he was looking around the dance floor, watching how each group was in their respective half and dancing their hearts out. neither of you have both seen and since the city decided to go all out for this dance to make everyone get alone, the lights were still going crazy.

he took his arm off your waist and held his hand out to you which you happily took. he led you to the middle of the floor and it was an upbeat song, so he grabbed your hands and you began dancing together.

you followed his lead and moved in sync with him and everyone else around you. your dress moved beautifully, miguel twirling you as much as possible to keep that smile on your face.

you moved back and forth between both sides of the dance floor, not wanting to stick to just one side in case you were to get caught that easily. it wasn’t so strange since most people by the middle were doing that anyway.

there were a couple people on the sidelines just watching, either because they can’t dance or they don’t have dates. singletons from both gangs but no shark was going to take a latina out to dance or vice versa, knowing they’d get a beating right then and there.

the song changed to a slower one so you adjusted accordingly with your arms around his neck while his were on your waist. you swayed back and forth slowly, staring into each other's eyes and ignoring everything else.

you felt happy being able to do this. and sure it was mainly due to the fact that everyone was wearing masks and you could barely even see the person next to you but still. you had the man you adored the most out in public like this and it was all you could’ve asked for.

you sighed and gave him a loving smile, taking a step closer to place your head against his chest. you danced slowly now taking one of his hands and sticking it outwards while he held your other hand by his chest.

it was a sweet and pure moment. what was once such a rarity in your life and now was slowly becoming something you needed to have every day. not at all afraid for the future, at least not now that his arms are around you. it was warm and protective, like nothing bad could happen when you were like this.

but unfortunately that wasn’t the reality you were living in.

anita was the first to notice you, not thinking anything of it until she realized the man you were dancing with wasn’t chino and she had to stop herself from gasping out loud. the second to notice was riff’s girlfriend, graziella, whose eyes went wide when she looked past riff’s shoulder to find miguel with bernardo’s sister of all the girls.

they both kept their mouths shut, hell even leading their men away from that part of the dance floor just to save all parties from a potential disaster. you didn’t even notice, not a single clue the jig was almost up but saved by the two girls.

that quickly changed when you decided to just take a look around the dance floor, moving your head up to take a better peak while miguel swayed you both. your eyes scanned all the couples in their fancy attire and dark masks but suddenly stopped at one guy standing still on the sidelines, eyes already on yours.

your eyes grew wide and your heart started racing, you shook your head against miguel, praying to god that chino won’t say a word.

you watched him carefully, almost unable to move because your nerves were getting the better of you. “por favor.” you mouthed to him and he just slowly shook his head. (please)

he started walking to the left side of the floor, you quickly looked over, trying to find your brother and anita. your eyes followed chino and you looked to where he was walking and you knew your fun was over.

you looked away, gaze back on miguel and leaned towards his ear, “we’ve gotta go.”

he looked down at you, noticing your nervous expression, and nodding. he let go of you, quickly grabbing your hand and leading you out. he pushed past bodies, not caring for the grunts and swears of his own friends.

they luckily didn’t even notice it was him, otherwise he’d have another problem on his hands. he led you out of the main exit, quickly walking to the parking lot to his car. the cold air hit you but before you could even react to it you heard someone yell your name behind you.

the all too familiar voice had you gulp and walk faster while miguel squeezed your hand, trying to make you feel better, “todo va estar bien, okay?” (everything’s gonna be fine)

you nodded and then heard yelling behind you, anita’s voice filling your ears as she begged bernardo to leave you alone. you could hear them argue like they usually did when you finally got to miguel’s car. he unlocked and opened your door when suddenly the side door bursts open and out comes riff with graziella laughing.

you had one foot about to go inside when riff just blinks at the sight in front of him. you stayed silent, not having anything to say while miguel urged you to get inside the car. “miguel please- let’s just go, anywhere but here.” you pleaded and he just nodded but his eyes were on his best friend’s.

riff was now scoffing, shaking his head in disbelief and disapproval while miguel helped you inside. he closed your door shut and walked behind the car to get to his seat just so he didn’t have to get even closer to riff. he stopped before getting inside, giving him the chance to say something to him.

riff was baffled, stun locked, and disappointed. this felt like a stab in the back to him, towards the sharks and everything they stood for.

but his definition was always different to miguel’s, he just never considered that fact.

finally he was able to speak up, “i can’t believe you.”

miguel sighed and stopped him from even starting a rant, “well believe it because i’m done pretending to be something i’m not. i can’t live like that anymore and you better fucking believe that i’m marrying this girl one day.”

your face grew warm and your heart started pounding, his honest words sounding like a declaration and in front of his best friend just made it all the more real and serious.

he gave him one final look before going inside and starting the engine. you took a deep breath and looked to the right to see bernardo and anita walking over. she gave you a sympathetic smile and your brother’s was better than before.

you gulped and rolled the window down, speechless at first before thinking of the right thing to say, “perdóname, hermano. es mejor pedir perdón que pedir permiso.. encontré un amor verdadero y bonito, espero que lo entiendas.” (forgive me, brother. it’s better to ask for forgiveness than to ask for permission.. i found a love so real and so beautiful, i hope you’ll understand)

he sighed and nodded, unable to speak because it felt so surreal. instead anita spoke, “ felicidades, mi niña” (congratulations, my girl)

you smiled at her and miguel finally pulled out and slowly drove away leaving behind your loved ones conflicted and confused.

as soon as you were far and hidden enough you both jumped to the backseat. such strong comments towards your family’s brought an energy you never felt before. an even better and stronger pull towards miguel, one that had you feeling extra grateful from him and more affectionate.

it took little to no convincing for you to ride him. you had been riding him fast, eager and ready to please while making out. hands touching anything and groping, squeezing gently as you bounced your ass up and down like you have before.

only now was he started to thrust his hips upwards as you slammed down, making sure to hit your sweet spot every time. you tried your hardest to keep up with him but he never made it easy on you, even when you were trying to do something for him.

his hands were gripping your hips, squeezing your flesh while he helped you fuck yourself harder on his cock, desperately wanting to come already. neither of you were in any mood to take it slow, just wanting it to be as passionately fast as possible.

his praise against your lips filled your ears, making you moan against him while he just continued kissing you. he kept repeating his promising words of forever, making sure you wouldn’t forget them.

aunque todavía tuvieron un amor prohibido, se sentía como si ahora nada de todo mundo los puede detener. (although you still had a forbidden love, it felt like now, nothing in the world could stop you now)

como si todo este tiempo podían estar así sin importar lo que digan los demás. (as if all this time you could’ve been like this without caring what anyone else says)

but at last, you could do that now anyway and there was no one that could come between the sweetest of love you’ve ever felt with the absolute man of your dreams.

[gardenladysworld]

Starbound hearts

Status: I'm working on it

Pairings: Neteyam x human!f!reader

Aged up characters!

Genre/Warnings: fluff, slow burn, oblivious characters, light angst, hurt/comfort, pining

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

Tags: @nerdylawyerbanditprofessor-blog, @ratchetprime211, @poppyseed1031, @redflashoftheleaf, @nikipuppeteer@eliankm, @quintessences0posts, @minjianhyung @bkell2929

Part 19: To carry

Part 20: To suffer

The morning air was crisp, carrying the lingering scent of damp earth and vegetation as you crouched beside one of the large growing containers outside the outpost. The artificial sunlight panels above hummed softly, casting a warm glow over the rows of Pandoran plants that had been carefully cultivated in controlled conditions.

Kate was kneeling beside you, fingers gently brushing the bioluminescent leaves of a newly sprouted specimen, her datapad balanced on one knee. Brian stood nearby, arms crossed as he squinted at another batch of samples, muttering under his breath.

“These are growing way faster than I expected,” you mused, running a gloved hand along the delicate fronds of one plant. “We adjusted the nutrient mix last week, right?”

Kate nodded, clicking the end of her stylus against the glass of her mask. “Yeah, but I didn’t think it would have this much of an effect. Look at the root system—completely different from the control group inside.”

Brian snorted, nudging the edge of a container with his boot. “Probably because they like it out here better. I mean, who wouldn’t? Stuck inside that sterile lab or out here in fresh air, under actual sunlight.”

Kate rolled her eyes. “Brian, they’re plants. They don’t have personal preferences.”

Brian shrugged. “You say that, but I’ve seen enough weird shit on Pandora to believe these things have opinions.” He gestured at a vine creeping up the side of one container. “Like that one. It was barely a sprout last week, and now it’s trying to escape.”

You snickered, tapping a few notes into your datapad. “Maybe it heard you talking and decided to make a run for it.”

Kate laughed. “Yeah, that checks out. Brian does have that effect on people.”

Brian gasped, clutching his chest dramatically. “Wow. Betrayed by my own team.”

You grinned, leaning back on your heels. “If it helps, I think the plants tolerate you.”

Brian sighed. “I’ll take what I can get.”

For a while, the three of you fell into an easy rhythm—checking growth rates, documenting leaf pigmentation changes, and comparing data with previous readings. The work was familiar, grounding, a welcome distraction from the weight of everything else in your life. Until Kate casually dropped, “So. Last night was fun.”

You hummed in agreement, not looking up from your datapad. “Yeah, these samples are doing great.”

Kate snorted. “Oh, no, I wasn’t talking about the plants.”

You glanced up, catching the glint in her eye, and immediately felt a sense of impending doom. Brian crossed his arms, shaking his head with a long-suffering sigh.

“Oh, she doesn’t know,” he said, voice dripping with exaggerated tragedy. “Poor thing. Completely oblivious.”

You frowned. “Don’t know what?”

Kate placed a hand over her heart. “While you were off frolicking in the village with a certain warrior—”

Brian cut in, voice grave. “—we were fighting for our lives.”

You blinked, confused. “What?”

Kate sighed heavily, as if recounting a harrowing tale of survival. “The power grid had a massive failure. Outpost systems glitched so hard that the air filtration went down for an hour. An hour, where we had to wear exo-masks inside. Inside, like a bunch of stranded idiots in a tin can.”

Brian groaned. “Do you know how stuffy it gets in there when the ventilation cuts out even with masks? It was like slow suffocation.”

Kate clutched Brian’s arm dramatically. “We barely made it.”

Brian nodded solemnly. “Norm had to manually override half the systems to get them back online. Max looked like he was five seconds from a nervous breakdown. People were panicking.”

You stared at them, your brain slowly catching up. “Wait, seriously? The air system actually failed?”

Brian threw his hands up. “YES.”

Kate narrowed her eyes at you. “And where were you while we were suffering, hmm?”

The pieces clicked together, and warmth immediately crawled up your neck. “Oh, come on—”

“Oh, no, no,” Kate interrupted, pointing an accusing finger. “Don’t you dare try to act innocent.”

Brian scoffed. “She wasn’t just ‘in the village.’” He made air quotes, giving you a pointed look. “She was in Neteyam’s kelku. The brand new one he built with his own two hands. Probably wrapped up in some stupidly romantic nonsense while we were gasping for air like dying fish.”

Kate groaned. “God, it’s so unfair. We were in full-on survival mode, and she was—”

Brian cut in, raising his voice. “Oh, Neteyam, take me in your strong warrior arms!” He clutched his own chest in mock swoon.

Kate joined in with an exaggerated breathy voice. “Oh, ma yawntutsyìp, I’ll keep you safe in my big, muscular Na’vi embrace!”

Brian fake-gasped. “Oh, mighty warrior, you’re just so big—”

You wheezed with laughter, shaking your head. “Oh, fuck you two.”

Kate wasn’t done. “Meanwhile, we were actively perishing, and she was probably getting dicked down into the next plane of existence.”

Brian nodded sagely. “It’s true. We were barely hanging on, and she was experiencing spiritual ascension through alien dick.”

“Okay, okay! I get it.” You trying to catch your breath.

Kate smirked, raising an eyebrow. “So… you admit it?”

You gave them both an exasperated look behind your glinting exo-mask, but the smirk pulling at your lips gave you away. “I’m not denying anything.”

Brian groaned. “Unbelievable. We suffered. Suffered. And you—”

Kate gasped suddenly, grabbing Brian’s arm. “Brian, what if she was the reason the outpost almost died?”

Brian’s eyes widened in mock horror. “Of course! It all makes sense now!” He turned to you, shaking his head. “You must have broken some kind of Eywa rule. She was like, ‘oh, you wanna spend the night with the olo’eyktan’s son? Boom. Power outage. Choke on CO₂, humans.’”

Kate nodded solemnly. “It was divine punishment.”

You threw your hands up, still laughing. “Alright, that’s it. You both deserve to suffer.”

Brian placed a hand on his chest. “The betrayal. After everything we’ve been through.”

Kate wiped a fake tear as she swiped the glass of her mask. “We risked our lives, and she doesn’t even care.”

You snorted. ��Norm let me stay in the village! It’s not my fault the outpost almost killed you all while I was gone!”

Brian huffed. “I’m just saying. Suspicious timing.”

Kate smirked. “Very suspicious.”

You shook your head, still grinning as you turned back to the plant samples. “You two are the worst.”

The morning sun was rising higher now, casting soft golden light over the outpost’s growing containers. The three of you had settled into a comfortable rhythm again, carefully checking the plant samples and logging observations, though the teasing hadn’t completely died down.

Brian was frowning at a particularly stubborn vine that had wrapped itself around the edge of a container, pulling at it like it had personally wronged him. “This thing’s got a death grip,” he muttered, wrestling with it. “I swear, everything on Pandora either wants to kill you or claim territory.”

Kate smirked. “Well, that’s nature for you. Survival of the fittest.”

Brian shot her a look. “Yeah? Then why is this thing trying to fight me? I’m clearly superior.”

Kate snorted. “Debatable.”

You chuckled, setting down your datapad as you inspected a leaf sample. “It’s probably reacting to environmental changes. The humidity’s been fluctuating more than usual. Maybe it’s compensating by clinging to something solid.”

Kate hummed thoughtfully. “That does sound like a logical explanation…” Then, she gave you a sly look. “Or, maybe it’s just possessive. Like a certain warrior we all know.”

You froze for a split second before sighing. “Kate.”

Brian perked up instantly. “Ohh, we’re back to that conversation, huh?” He tossed the stubborn vine aside, suddenly much more invested in what Kate had to say.

Kate grinned. “I mean, it’s only fair. She got to spend the night in the newest, most talked-about kelku in the entire village.” She elbowed you playfully. “Soooo… how is the place?”

You blinked, momentarily thrown off. “What?”

Brian grinned, leaning against one of the larger growing containers. “Oh, don’t play dumb. You know exactly what we’re talking about.”

Kate smirked. “Neteyam’s kelku.”

Your stomach did a little flip—whether from nerves or excitement, you weren’t sure. You should have known this was coming. Of course they were going to ask.

Kate rested her chin in her palm, watching you with amusement. “Sooo? How was it?”

You focused very hard on documenting one of the plant readings, pretending like your face wasn’t getting warmer. “It’s nice,” you said casually.

Brian scoffed. “Oh, come on. That’s it? ‘It’s nice’?” He gestured wildly. “The man spent weeks building the damn thing, and all you’ve got is ‘it’s nice’?”

Kate sighed dramatically. “Disappointing. Truly.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t fight the smile tugging at your lips. “What do you want me to say?”

Kate grinned. “Uh, everything? Details, woman!”

You exhaled through your nose, shaking your head. “Fine. It’s… beautiful.” Your voice softened slightly as you thought about it, the image of Neteyam’s home still fresh in your mind. “It’s in the upper levels of the trees, close enough to the village but still secluded. The main structure is woven from thick branches and vines, reinforced with thatched roofing—sturdy but open, so there’s plenty of light. And at night, the bioluminescent plants make it look like it’s glowing from the inside.”

Kate let out a dreamy sigh. “That sounds so much better than this metal shoebox we live in.”

Brian nodded. “Honestly, jealous. Dude really built himself a whole nature penthouse.”

You laughed as you started to revive the last night. “Yeah, pretty much. He even made sure there was a spot for his ikran to land nearby if he needed.”

Kate raised an eyebrow. “A private ikran parking spot? Fancy.”

You exhaled, coming back to the present, a small smile tugging at your lips. “Oh and he was definitely nervous,” you admitted. “Kept watching me like he was waiting for me to say something bad.”

Brian snorted. “As if that’s even possible. What, were you gonna be like, ‘ugh, Neteyam, what an ugly handcrafted home you built with your bare hands’?”

Kate laughed. “Exactly. Like, what was he expecting? A bad Yelp review?”

You shook your head, chuckling. “I don’t know. But when I told him it was beautiful, you should’ve seen the way his ears perked up. He looked so relieved.”

Brian snickered. “Man was literally on edge waiting for approval from his tiny human girlfriend.”

Kate waggled her eyebrows. “Aww, our big strong warrior just wants your approval.”

You shrugged, feeling a fond warmth spread through your chest. “I guess.” You smiled, shifting slightly. “And, uh… he also made some adjustments to certain areas. You know… for me.”

There was a brief silence before both Kate and Brian snapped their attention to you, eyes wide with instant realization.

“Oh my God,” Kate gasped.

Brian’s mouth dropped open. “Are you saying…?”

You hesitated, then shrugged. “I mean, he made sure some of the ledges weren’t too high, added extra footholds on the climb up, and even adjusted the hammock ties so I wouldn’t have to jump to reach them.” You tilted your head. “I didn’t really notice at first, but… yeah. He definitely considered my height when building it.”

Kate let out a high-pitched sound that could only be described as pure delight. “You adorable, stupid little human.”

Brian pointed at you like he’d just cracked a major conspiracy. “He built his house with you in mind. You.”

Kate threw her hands up. “That’s, like, peak mate behavior!”

Your stomach twisted at that, though you weren’t sure if it was panic or something softer, something that made your chest feel too full. Because, really, they weren’t wrong. Na’vi didn’t build separate homes unless they were preparing for the next stage of life. Neteyam had never had his own kelku before, not even after passing his rites. He had stayed with his family, partly because of his siblings and partly because of duty. But after his argument with Jake one month ago, he had decided to step away. And in the Omatikaya’s world, that decision meant one thing:

He was ready to choose his mate.

Your throat tightened. No one in the clan knew about the two of you, save for his siblings. And yet, when he had woven his new home together, he had instinctively accounted for you. Your size. Your comfort. Like it had been second nature to him.

Kate must have caught the look on your face because she groaned loudly. “Oh no. I see that overthinking expression. I see it.”

Brian sighed dramatically, rubbing his temples. “God, here we go. She’s spiraling.”

Kate mimicked your voice, making an exaggerated face of deep contemplation. “‘But what does it mean? Does he actually want to be with me? Or is this just, like, a coincidence? Does he even like me—’”

“Kate,” you hissed, smacking her arm as she burst into laughter.

Brian joined in, shaking his head as looking at Kate. “I bet she spent half the night just staring at the ceiling, trying to figure out if this was a symbolic gesture or not.”

You opened your mouth to argue—then immediately closed it because, well… they weren’t wrong.

Kate clapped her hands together. “See? I knew it!”

You sighed in defeat, rubbing a hand over your face. “Look, I know I’m overthinking it, okay? It’s just… it’s a big deal. And I don’t want to assume—”

Brian cut you off, deadpan. “Oh my god, just assume.”

Kate nodded. “Right? The man built a house. For himself, yes, but also for you. I mean, who do you think he imagined living there with him? His ikran?”

Kate grabbed Brian’s arm. “Brian, I’m going to scream.”

Brian put a hand over his heart. “I—Kate, I’m actually feeling a little emotional.”

Kate whirled on you, her eyes wide. “He customized his kelku for you.”

You buried your face in your hands. “Stop.”

Brian exhaled, shaking his head. “Damn. Imagine a guy literally restructuring his home to fit you. Couldn’t be me.”

Kate smacked his arm. “Because no one wants to live with you, Brian.”

You peeked at them through your fingers, laughing despite yourself. “It’s not that big of a deal.”

Kate gasped. “Not that big of a—oh, my Eywa, this girl.” She turned to Brian. “She’s too far gone.”

Brian nodded solemnly. “Hopeless.”

Kate groaned. “He’s literally nesting for you, and you’re just sitting here like, ‘oh, no big deal, just my giant blue alien boyfriend building us a love nest in the sky.’”

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t stop smiling.

Kate squinted at you. “What else?”

You hesitated again, the warmth in your chest spreading. “He… picked the softest pelts for the bed. For me—so I wouldn’t get cold at night.”

Kate grabbed Brian’s shoulder and shook him. “I’m going feral.”

Brian rubbed his temple. “Yeah, okay, even I gotta admit—that’s some husband behavior.”

Kate pointed at you. “Girl, you are so married already.”

You groaned, shaking your head. “We aren’t married.”

Kate scoffed. “Yet.”

Brian grinned. “This man’s literally out here setting up your future home while the whole clan still thinks he’s single.”

Kate crossed her arms. “Honestly? Power move.”

You sighed, leaning back on your hands. “I knew you two would be like this.”

Kate smirked. “Oh, don’t act all exasperated—you love it.”

You rolled your eyes. “Not as much as I love watching you two overreact to everything.”

Brian grinned. “Hey, it’s not overreacting when it’s true.”

Kate sighed dramatically. “Our little human is being courted and still refuses to admit how insanely cute it is.”

You shook your head, but warmth still lingered in your chest. Because, deep down, you knew they were right. Neteyam had built his kelku for himself. But, in so many ways, he had built it for you, too. Kate nudged you again, grinning. “So. When’s the housewarming party?”

Brian laughed. “Yeah, when do we get a tour?”

You snorted. “Never. You two would never leave.”

Kate gasped. “How dare you?”

Brian shook his head. “Unbelievable. We cheer you on, support your forbidden intergalactic romance, and this is the thanks we get?”

Kate crossed her arms. “See if we ever cover for you again.”

The conversation was still brimming with teasing laughter when Brian suddenly perked up, as if a thought had just struck him. “Oh! Speaking of big, important things happening—did you hear about a new Venture Star that just arrived?”

Kate’s eyes lit up. “Oh, hell yes I did.” She turned to you, practically vibrating with excitement. “We’ve got a fresh shipment in orbit, baby! New supplies, new equipment, maybe—” she wiggled her eyebrows dramatically “—some actual food that doesn’t taste like chalk.”

Brian groaned, stretching his arms behind his head. “Finally. I am so sick of those flavorless ration packs. One year of waiting for a resupply, and if I have to eat one more ‘nutrient-dense, efficiency-optimized’ protein bar, I’m gonna lose it.”

You snorted. “Oh, please. You’re acting like it’s Christmas. It’s just a supply ship.”

Kate shot him a look. “Are you kidding? It’s been six years since this shipment left Earth. That means everything on board is practically ancient history, but it’s new to us.”

You smirked, amused by their enthusiasm. The Venture Star was a marvel of human engineering—a massive interstellar vehicle that ran supply loops between Earth and Pandora, ensuring Pandora remained connected to the homeworld. The trip took six years one way, meaning that whatever had been packed on board had been sealed away for just as long. It wasn’t the first time a Venture Star had arrived since you’d been here, but it never failed to cause a stir among the humans.

Kate grinned. “I swear, if we get actual coffee this time, I might cry.”

Brian laughed. “Please, real coffee? In this economy? We’ll be lucky if we get the same freeze-dried sludge they sent last time.”

Kate groaned. “Ugh. Don’t remind me. That stuff tastes like someone ground up despair and disappointment and stuck it in a tin.”

He smirked. “Oh, and you drank it anyway.”

“Damn right I did,” Kate admitted. “Because I have no choice.”

Brian crossed his arms. “And if we’re lucky, a Valkyrie will actually land at Hell’s Gate sometime this week with our shipment.”

You snorted softly, amused at how quickly their focus had shifted. “You two are way too excited about this.”

Kate crossed her arms, looking thoughtful. “Oh! And I swear, if there’s no real chocolate in this shipment, I will riot. Also, if they actually sent new datapads, I’m replacing mine.” She held up her current one and wiggled it in emphasis. “This thing is basically being held together by sheer willpower.”

Brian snorted. “Good luck with that. If they sent any, the higher-ups probably hoarded it already.”

Kate groaned. “Ugh, corporate greed.”

Eventually, Brian turned to you, still fired up. “Okay, and you? What are you hoping for?”

You blinked, caught off guard. Truthfully, you hadn’t really thought about what you’d want. When you first arrived on Pandora, you’d clung to anything that reminded you of Earth—real coffee, small comforts that made the transition easier. But now? The idea of waiting eagerly for six-year-old supplies didn’t hold the same appeal.

Kate, of course, immediately picked up on your hesitation. Her grin turned downright wicked.

You shrugged. “Nothing, really.”

Both Kate and Brian stared at you. “…Nothing?” Brian repeated, like he had just misheard.

Kate squinted. “Not even a small request?”

You shook your head. “I mean… I can’t really think of anything I need.”

Kate gasped. “Oh, Eywa, it’s worse than I thought.”

Brian shook his head, looking at you with exaggerated disappointment. “You’ve gone native.”

You rolled your eyes. “Oh, please.”

Kate grinned. “No, no, Brian’s right. Look at you, all humble and self-sufficient. You’re basically Na’vi now. She doesn’t have to suffer with powdered eggs and freeze-dried meat. No, no. She gets fresh yovo fruit and grilled yerik meat, probably hand-fed to her by her mighty warrior.”

Brian smirked. “Neteyam probably makes sure you don’t have to eat those god-awful ration meals.”

You snorted. “First of all, I still live at the outpost. I eat here just like I always have. It’s not like I’ve completely abandoned human food.”

Kate shrugged. “Yeah, but do you have to? Or is Neteyam just keeping you so well-fed you could live off whatever he brings you?”

You felt heat creep up your neck.

Brian’s jaw dropped. “Oh my god.” He pointed at you. “He does.”

You groaned. “I hate both of you.”

Kate smirked. “I mean, it makes sense. A Na’vi mate would never let their partner go hungry.”

Brian shook his head in mock amazement. “Woman, you are set for life.”

You shrugged, glancing up at the sky again. “I guess I’m just more interested in the people than the supplies.”

Kate raised an eyebrow. “The new recruits?”

You nodded. “Right now, there are people waking up on that ship, coming out of cryo-sleep after six years. They’re getting ready to come down here, just like we did.”

That thought stuck with you—the idea that, right now, there were dozens of people groggily adjusting to consciousness, their bodies still stiff from the long journey. You had been in their shoes once, stepping out of cryo and onto a planet you had only seen through data reports and holovideo feeds. It had been overwhelming, terrifying, and exhilarating all at once.

Kate considered that for a moment. “Huh. I guess I hadn’t really thought about that.”

Brian, however, just sighed. “Well, don’t get too excited. We probably won’t even meet them.”

You frowned. “What do you mean?”

Brian gave you a look. “Come on, you know they’re sending them to Bridgehead. We’re just a tiny science outpost in the middle of nowhere. Hell’s Gate is just a landing site now—it’s not like we have room for new people.”

You hated that he was right. Bridgehead was where the real human operations were now. A massive city, heavily fortified, brimming with RDA forces and corporate infrastructure. It was where all the major personnel transfers happened, where the actual newcomers would be processed.

Here, at the outpost? There were only twenty of you. And you were already at full capacity.

Kate made a face. “Ugh. I hate that he’s right.”

Brian smirked. “I usually am.”

Kate smacked his arm. “Don’t ruin this for me.”

You chuckled, shaking your head. “Still, it’s kind of surreal, isn’t it? Knowing that, right now, there are people on that ship experiencing Pandora for the first time?”

Kate nodded. “Yeah… I remember what that was like. It’s weird to think we were in cryo for six years before even getting here.”

Brian groaned. “Don’t remind me. That was the worst nap of my life.”

Kate snorted. “Same. Woke up feeling like I got hit by a space truck.”

You smiled faintly, staring up at the sky one more time. Six years of travel. Six years away from everything familiar. And now, a new batch of humans was about to step foot on this moon, just like you once had. They had no idea what was waiting for them.

The storage room was a mess of crates, inventory lists, and half-packed supplies. The air was thick with the scent of old metal and sterilized packaging as you moved between the shelves, reorganizing to make enough space for tomorrow’s delivery.

Kate and Brian were working alongside you—sort of. Kate was more focused on making sarcastic comments about the state of the supply room, while Brian had taken it upon himself to dramatically announce every box he moved, as if he were performing some heroic feat.

“And here we have the last-known ration packs of the Dark Age,” Brian declared, holding up a box labeled Emergency Protein Supplies. “Careful! If you breathe near them wrong, they might turn to dust.”

Kate snorted. “Please. Those things have more preservatives than actual food.”

You smirked, adjusting a stack of storage bins. “Yeah, and yet, you two are still excited for whatever garbage food the Venture Star brings us this week.”

Brian pointed at you. “Hey, those garbage snacks are a taste of home.”

Kate huffed as she shoved a heavy container into place. “You know, for a science outpost, we sure do a lot of heavy lifting.”

Brian grunted as he hauled another crate onto a shelf. “Welcome to Pandora. Where even the nerds have to do manual labor.”

You snorted, wiping the sweat from your brow as you double-checked the inventory list. “Come on, it’s not that bad. We’ll be done soon enough.”

Kate shot you a look. “Easy for you to say. You’ve got an extra incentive to work fast—someone is probably waiting for you in the village.”

Brian smirked. “Yeah, shouldn’t you be out there enjoying your Na’vi luxury lifestyle instead of sweating with us lowly humans?”

You rolled your eyes. “Oh, shut up.”

Before they could tease you further, the sound of the airlock opening made all three of you glance up. The familiar, heavy steps of someone much taller than you echoed through the hall, and your heart skipped a beat before you even turned around.

Neteyam.

He walked toward you with that easy, confident stride of his, his golden eyes scanning the storage room before settling on you. His face softened, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips as he approached. Without hesitation, he crouched down in front of you, one knee on the floor, and leaned in to press a soft kiss to your lips.

When Neteyam pulled back, golden eyes flickering with quiet affection, he gave you a small, knowing smile. “Oel ngati kameie, ma’yawne.”

The warmth of it spread through you instantly, but before you could react, he pulled back slightly and murmured, “I brought you something.”

Curious, you watched as he reached into the small satchel strapped to his side and carefully placed a few delicacies on the crate beside you—fruits, nuts and some meat, things he must have gone out of his way to gather. Before you could even form a response, Kate and Brian burst into laughter.

“Oh my Eywa,” Kate wheezed, clutching her stomach. “We called it! The prophecy has been fulfilled!”

Brian grinned. “What did I say? She doesn’t even need Earth supplies—her big blue boyfriend is out here delivering fresh jungle snacks like some kind of Na’vi Uber Eats.”

You groaned, feeling your face heat up. “Would you two shut up?”

Brian pointed at Neteyam. “Dude, you literally just proved our argument from this morning. We said she doesn’t need rations because you keep her fed, and here you are, hand-delivering gourmet meals!”

Kate wiped a fake tear. “It’s beautiful, really.”

Neteyam’s ears flicked in amusement as he glanced between them, then back at you. And then, because he was a menace, he casually said, “She does not ask for these things, but…” He tilted his head, golden eyes gleaming with mischief. “I take care of what is mine.”

Kate choked.

Brian gawked. “Wait. What?”

You turned your head so fast you nearly pulled a muscle. “Neteyam!”

He blinked at you, innocent as ever. “What?”

Kate’s jaw dropped. “Did he just—? Did you just claim her in front of us?!”

Brian looked torn between horror and awe. “I don’t even know how to process this.”

You groaned, covering your face with your hands. “He’s joking.”

Neteyam smirked, clearly enjoying himself. “Am I?”

Kate swatted your arm. “Woman. If I were you, I’d be panicking right now.”

You shot Neteyam a glare, but he only looked amused, his tail flicking happily behind him. He totally did that on purpose. Taking a deep breath, you shook your head and focused on your actual job. “Alright, you two, enough. We have work to do.”

Kate still looked like she wanted to dissect Neteyam’s statement under a microscope, but thankfully, she let it go—at least for now. Neteyam chuckled softly, clearly entertained, before nudging the bundle toward you again. “Eat,” he said simply.

And damn it, you couldn’t resist. The first bite of fruit was so sweet it nearly made you groan, and Kate’s knowing look only made the moment worse. You ignored them both, focusing instead on Neteyam, who was watching you with quiet amusement. You huffed but didn’t argue. Instead, you turned to Neteyam. “What brings you here, besides bribing me with food?”

His ears flicked slightly. “I was hoping you’d come to the village tonight.”

The question made your heart skip a beat. And oh, how badly you wanted to say yes. You hesitated, fingers still curled around a piece of fruit.

Eywa, you wanted to. The thought of returning to his kelku, curling up beside him, letting the rest of the world fade away—it was tempting in a way that made your chest ache.

But…

You sighed, shaking your head. “I can’t.”

Neteyam frowned slightly, his ears twitching. “Why?”

You gestured around the outpost. “We need to clear space before the supply drop. It’s going to be chaos this week when the Valkyrie finally lands at Hell’s Gate.”

His ears twitched, and his gaze flicked toward the stacked crates before returning to you. “You work too much.”

You huffed a quiet laugh. “Says the warrior who never takes a break.”

His lips quirked, but then he asked, “More humans are coming?”

You hesitated. “Probably.”

Neteyam’s expression didn’t shift, but you could feel his unease. And you understood why. More humans meant more problems. The Omatikaya were already wary of the few remaining humans allowed on Pandora. The only reason this outpost still existed was because of Jake Sully’s leadership—because he had allowed it. Beyond this, for a few hundred miles in every direction, no other human settlements remained.

This outpost was the last true sanctuary for humans anywhere near this part of Pandora. If it weren’t for Jake, they wouldn’t even be allowed to stay here. Neteyam’s tail flicked in irritation. “Father has spoken of this before. He says the Sky People do not stop coming.”

You sighed. “They don’t.”

Neteyam exhaled, clearly mulling over your words. He had grown up knowing the tension between his people and the humans, and he understood better than most how precarious that balance was. The Na’vi only human allies was this outpost with a few selected people. Before he could respond, a familiar voice chimed in from behind him. Norm.

You turned as he approached, arms crossed. “They’ll be sent to Bridgehead. That’s where the real operations are. Hell’s Gate is just a landing site now.”

Neteyam’s expression didn’t change, but you knew he wasn’t surprised. He had heard about Bridgehead from his father before. A human stronghold built near the ocean, far enough from the Omatikaya to not be an immediate issue. But even so, as the humans continued to come back to Pandora after the Great War, it was unsettling.

For a long moment, nobody spoke. You exhaled, rubbing your arms as you glanced at Neteyam. “I know,” you murmured. “I know it’s not… ideal.”

Neteyam studied you for a moment, then shook his head slightly, as if brushing the thought away. “It does not matter,” he said simply. “Bridgehead is far.”

It was true. Bridgehead was far.

But…

It was still growing.

You could see it on his face, the same thing that had gnawed at you ever since you heard about the Venture Star’s arrival.

The humans weren’t leaving. They were coming back. More than ever. And what would that mean for the Na’vi? For this outpost? For you?

You swallowed, pushing the thoughts away before they could spiral. Because the thing was, despite everything, when you were with Neteyam—when he looked at you the way he did, touched you like you belonged at his side—he never let you feel different. Never let you feel like an outsider. Even now, as his golden eyes settled on you, there was no hesitation. No doubt. Only that quiet, unshakable certainty. That you were his.

The steady hum of the outpost filled the air as you continued working, shifting crates and clearing space for the incoming supplies. Neteyam had stayed beside you, helping where he could—though helping was a generous word for what he was actually doing.

At first, it was simple. He handed you items when you needed them, moved heavier equipment with ease, and brushed his fingers against yours every chance he got. But then, he started making it difficult. Lingering touches. His large hands resting against your lower back as he leaned over you to pass your datapad. The warmth of his body as he crouched beside you to lift a crate, his tail flicking idly against your thigh.

You had tried so hard to ignore it, but Kate and Brian had definitely noticed. “I can’t watch this anymore,” Kate muttered under her breath, nudging Brian. “Come on, let’s go clear the storage bay before I start gagging.”

Brian smirked. “You’re just mad no one’s being this soft with you.”

Kate scoffed. “I’d rather die than deal with whatever this is.”

You shot them both a glare. “Goodbye.”

Kate grinned. “Have fun, lovebirds.”

And then they were gone, leaving you alone with Neteyam in the quiet hum of the outpost. You sighed, standing up and brushing dust off your hands. “You should go back to the village.”

Neteyam hummed, clearly not taking you seriously as he crouched casually next to the crate beside you. “I am fine here.”

“You have work to do.”

He tilted his head, golden eyes flicking over your face. “So do you.”

You huffed, crossing your arms. “I mean actual work. Na’vi things. Not hanging around here distracting me.”

He gave a low chuckle, the sound rumbling deep in his chest. “I am distracting you?”

You leveled him with a flat look. “Obviously.”

His tail flicked behind him, his amusement only growing. “Maybe you are distracting me.”

You rolled your eyes, turning back to your work. “I’m serious, Neteyam.”

He didn’t move. Instead, he took the datapad from your hands before you could protest and placed it on the crate behind you. Then, with deliberate slowness, he reached out, his large hand brushing your waist as he crawled closer. You inhaled sharply, tilting your head up to meet his gaze. “Neteyam—this only will take a few days.”

“Alright. I will leave,” he murmured, dipping his head slightly, not quiet please by the few days fact, “but you are not making it easy.”

You let out a soft, breathy laugh. “I’m not making it easy?”

He smirked, the corner of his lips lifting in that infuriatingly charming way. “No.”

You exhaled, shaking your head fondly. “I swear...”

He only smiled, waiting. You bit your lip, considering your options. Fine. If he wanted to play this game, you would win.

Stepping forward, you tilted up onto your toes, your hands gliding up his arms—over the hard muscle of his biceps, past the strong curve of his shoulders—until they reached his neck. His breath hitched as your fingers trailed slowly along his skin, finally circling behind his head, pulling him just a little closer. His ears flicked forward, curious. You leaned in, your lips brushing just beneath one of them as you whispered, “If you leave now, I’ll stay with you in your kelku next time for a whole day.”

His entire body went still. You smirked, pressing the softest kiss just under his ear, feeling the way his muscles tensed beneath your fingertips. His tail twitched, curling slightly at the tip. For a long moment, he didn’t move, didn’t breathe. Then, finally, he let out a slow exhale, his voice low and full of something unreadable. “You fight dirty, yawne.”

You pulled back just enough to meet his eyes, smiling innocently. “Is it working?”

He studied you, golden gaze smoldering, before he sighed—reluctant, defeated. “…Fine.”  His gaze lingered on you for a moment longer before he let out a soft chuckle, shaking his head. “Kanu hì'i vrrtep.”[Smart little demon]

You grinned but your face heated up from his words. “Good.”

He brushed his nose against yours—a soft, fleeting touch—before stepping back. “But next time,” he said, voice smooth as silk, “I am keeping you for much longer.”

You shivered, heat curling in your stomach at the way he said it. Before you could respond, he turned, heading toward the exit. But just as he reached the door, he glanced over his shoulder, his smirk returning. “Try not to miss me too much.”

You rolled your eyes, fighting back a laugh. “Get out of here, mighty warrior.”

His chuckle echoed through the hall as he disappeared, leaving you standing there, heart still racing, already counting down the hours until tomorrow night.

The late afternoon air was thick with the scent of damp earth as Neteyam adjusted the strap of his bow, the fading sunlight casting long shadows across the dense Pandoran jungle. He had spent the past few hours hunting alongside the young warriors of the clan, guiding them through the thickets, teaching them patience, precision. Neteyam’s movements were swift, precise—his arrows flew true, finding their mark with practiced ease. The hunt was over quickly, their kills clean—six yeriks taken down.

As the others began the process of field dressing the animals, Neteyam wiped a small trickle of blood from a shallow cut on his arm. Nothing serious, but he knew it would need salve. He sighed, already knowing where he would need to go next before returning to his kelku.

Even as he congratulated the others, even as he carried his share of the game back to the communal storage, his mind was elsewhere.

It was foolish to let himself be so distracted. But Eywa help him—he could not stop.

The scent of burning herbs and medicinal paste filled the air as Neteyam stepped inside the Tsahik’s tent. Mo’at sat in her usual place, grinding some fresh herbs in a small clay bowl. The soft glow of bioluminescent fungi illuminated the space, casting her sharp features in a warm light.

She did not look up as he entered, but she did not need to. “You are hurt,” she said simply, her tone carrying that knowing edge that always made Neteyam feel like a child again.

“Only small wounds, grandmother,” he assured her.

Despite the gentle flickering of the flames, the space felt cool, shaded from the late afternoon heat. She didn’t look up as she spoke.

“You walk as though your mind is elsewhere, ma ‘itan.”

Neteyam hesitated mid-step. He had hoped to be in and out quickly, but of course, nothing got past his grandmother.

“I am just tired,” he said smoothly, moving closer. “Long day.”

Mo’at finally lifted her gaze, studying him as if she could see right through the words. She motioned for him to sit. “Come.”

Neteyam obeyed, kneeling before her as she reached for a clay jar, her movements slow and deliberate. She scooped out a bit of the salve with practiced fingers and began to apply it to his wound. The cool, earthy scent of the paste settled over him as she worked.

For a moment, neither of them spoke. Neteyam focused on the way Mo’at’s hands moved with steady precision, her touch familiar and grounding. But then she tilted her head, her eyes narrowing slightly.

“You are troubled.”

Neteyam let out a slow breath. “I am fine, grandmother.”

Mo’at made a quiet sound—half amusement, half disbelief. “I may be old, ma ‘itan, but I am not blind.” She wrapped a strip of cloth over his arm, tying it off neatly before fixing him with a look. “Your body is here, but your spirit is not. Where does your heart wander, Neteyam?”

His throat tightened. He forced himself to keep his expression calm. “Nowhere. I only think of my duties.”

“It is good that you take your duties seriously,” she said. “But you have avoided this conversation for long enough, ma’itan,” she said, her voice calm but resolute.

Neteyam stiffened slightly, though he tried to keep his expression neutral. “…What conversation?”

Mo’at gave him a look—one that told him she was not in the mood for games. “Do not play foolish with me, child. You know of what I speak.”

Neteyam exhaled slowly, already knowing where this was going. He had heard it many times before, always managing to sidestep it, to push it away with excuses. But this time, he could feel it in his bones—there would be no avoiding it.

Mo’at continued as she spread the salve over a long scrape on his shoulder. “The time has come. You are no longer a boy. You have built your own kelku.” She paused, letting the weight of her words settle between them. “It is time to choose a mate.”

Neteyam clenched his jaw, his hands instinctively curling into fists against his thighs. He lowered his gaze, focusing on the woven mat beneath them rather than the knowing look in her eyes.

"I am still learning," he had said when he was sixteen. "I must focus on my duties," he had said at eighteen. "I will know when the time is right," he had said at twenty.

“I am not ready,” he murmured, the excuse feeling weaker than it ever had before.

Mo’at clicked her tongue, her fingers stilling against his skin. “Neteyam.” Her voice softened, but there was no mistaking the authority in it. “You have been saying this for years.”

Because it was easier to say he was not ready. Easier to pretend that his path was still unclear. That his heart had not already found its home in the arms of someone the clan would never accept.

Mo’at continued, dipping her fingers back into the salve and continue to apply the ointment on his other small injury. “The elders have chosen a few fine young women—strong, skilled, and wise. Any of them would make a good Tsahik to stand at your side. Any one of them would make a fine mate for you.”

Neteyam swallowed, his throat suddenly dry. He knew this was coming, had always known. Ever since he completed his Uniltaron at fourteen, the women of the clan had waited, watching, hoping. Over the years, many had tried to get close to him, to make themselves worthy of his attention. Some had been gentle in their affections, others more persistent. But he had never chosen. Never wanted to.

Back then, he had resisted simply because he did not want to choose. He had never felt the pull toward any of the women around him, despite their attempts to get close. And over the years, as his father, his mother, even the elders had tried to push him toward a match, he had always refused.

Not then. And now… now, his heart was no longer his own to give.

Mo’at pressed the last bit of salve to his skin, but her gaze was no longer on his arm. She was watching him now, her sharp golden eyes studying his face, searching deeper than he was comfortable with.

“You hesitate,” she noted.

Neteyam exhaled slowly. “I have not yet decided.”

Mo’at’s lips pursed slightly. “Strange. A warrior who is ready to lead, yet cannot make a choice.”

He had no answer to that.

She watched him for a long moment, and then, something shifted in her expression. Her gaze softened, just slightly, her keen eyes seeing something even he had not realized was visible.

“You remind me of your mother,” she murmured.

Neteyam blinked, caught off guard. “What?”

Mo’at sat back, folding her hands in her lap. “Neytiri was meant to be Tsu’tey’s mate,” she said, voice calm, measured. “It was decided by the elders after your aunt’s passing. He was to be Olo’eyktan, and she, Tsahik. It was the future the clan saw for her.” She tilted her head. “But her heart did not belong to him.”

Neteyam swallowed thickly, his throat suddenly dry.

Mo’at nodded. “She chose a man who was not of her people. A dream-walker. A man who, at the time, was not even truly Na’vi.” Her gaze did not waver from his. “And despite all expectations, despite all tradition, she chose him anyway.”

The air between them was thick now, charged with something unspoken. Neteyam looked away. “That was different.”

“Was it?” Mo’at’s voice was patient, but there was a knowing edge to it. “She followed her heart, even when it was difficult. Even when others did not approve. And now, you sit before me, looking very much like your mother once did when she, too, was being told to choose.”

Neteyam’s jaw tightened. He knew that she was beginning to see the truth—one he had tried to keep hidden. Neteyam forced himself to breathe evenly, but his mind was racing. Did she know? Could she see it in him?

Mo’at wiped her hands clean, tilting her head slightly. “You are your mother’s son, Neteyam. I see it in you.” She studied him, eyes sharp with quiet understanding. “Your heart is not hesitant because you do not want to choose.” She reached forward then, placing a gentle but firm hand over his chest, right where his heart pounded against his ribs. “It is hesitant because it already has.”

His breath caught.

Mo’at exhaled softly, nodding to herself as if she had just confirmed something. “I see now.”

Neteyam’s throat tightened. “See what?”

A small smile tugged at the corner of her lips. “Your heart belongs to someone already.”

He felt his entire body go still. His mouth opened, but no words came.

Mo’at merely raised a knowing brow. “And yet, I do not see you walking among the young women chosen for you. I do not see you speaking of them, or seeking their company.” Her gaze softened, just slightly. “No. Your heart is not here.”

Neteyam swallowed hard. His pulse was a steady drumbeat against his ribs, his hands curling slightly against his thighs.

Mo’at reached out, her aged fingers briefly brushing against his cheek in a rare moment of tenderness. “Tell me, ma ‘itan. Who is she?”

His lips parted, but no words came out. Because what could he say? How could he admit it? That the one who had claimed his heart was not Na’vi, not one of the women the elders had chosen for him, but a small, stubborn, brilliant creature of the sky?

Neteyam inhaled sharply, his mind a whirlwind. For so long, he had kept this hidden, had carefully shielded it from everyone but his siblings. But now, sitting here under the weight of Mo’at’s gaze, he knew there was no use in lying.

She already knew.

But before he could say anything—before he could even begin to form the words—Mo’at chuckled softly, shaking her head. “Ah,” she murmured, a glint of amusement in her eyes. “You need not say it. I already know. It is not the way of our People to give their hearts lightly. The Great Mother chooses for us.” She tilted her head. “You have always been an obedient son,” she mused, her voice thoughtful. “Always followed the path set before you.” She paused, then added, “But the heart… does not always listen to duty, does it?”

Mo’at’s smile was small but understanding. “You have your mother’s heart,” she whispered. “Stubborn, loyal… and foolishly in love with a human.”

Neteyam’s stomach twisted in anticipation of judgment, of reprimand. But none came.

Instead, Mo’at simply sighed, her eyes distant, as if remembering something from long ago. “Fate has a strange way of repeating itself.”

His throat tightened. He had feared this moment for so long. He had imagined the disappointment, the anger, the judgment.

But it did not come.

Instead, Mo’at’s gaze softened, a knowing warmth in her expression. “It is a heavy thing, to love beyond what is expected. But I have seen this before.”

Neteyam swallowed hard. “And you do not judge me?”

Mo’at let out a quiet breath, shaking her head. “What is there to judge? Love is not something to be chosen from a list. It is not something that can be forced.” Her hand, still resting over his chest, pressed gently. “If your heart has chosen, then it is not my place to tell it otherwise.”

Neteyam exhaled shakily, a weight he hadn’t even realized he was carrying suddenly lifting from his shoulders. “I…”

Mo’at pulled back, her sharp gaze returning. “But you must be sure,” she warned. “A choice like this is not without difficulty. You know this.”

Neteyam nodded slowly. “I do.”

She studied him for a long moment, then sighed. “Then I will not ask again.” A small smirk tugged at her lips. “But do not think the others will stop.”

Neteyam huffed out a quiet laugh, shaking his head. “I would expect nothing less.”

Mo’at chuckled softly. Then, with a final pat to his arm, she rose to her feet. “Go, ma ‘itan.” Her eyes twinkled with something unreadable. “You have much to think about.”

Neteyam stepped out of the Tsahik’s tent, the warm afternoon air wrapping around him as he inhaled deeply. The weight that had been pressing against his chest all morning had lightened, replaced with something unfamiliar yet welcome. Relief.

For the first time in a long while, he didn’t feel like he was hiding. Mo’at knew—really knew—and she had not scolded him, had not judged him. Instead, she had simply understood.

It was more than he had dared to hope for.

He had barely taken a few steps toward the village before he spotted Lo’ak leaning lazily against a thick tree root nearby, arms crossed, his ever-present smirk firmly in place. Neteyam knew that look.

It meant trouble.

Lo’ak pushed off the root, strolling toward him with an easy swagger. “Damn, bro,” he drawled. “That was a long talk with Grandmother. Thought she was gonna keep you in there all night.”

Neteyam rolled his eyes but couldn’t fight the small smirk tugging at his lips. “She had… a lot to say.”

Lo’ak’s sharp golden eyes flickered over him, his smirk widening. “Yeah, no shit. You looked like you were carrying the weight of the whole clan when you went in there. But now?” He tilted his head, inspecting him. “You seem… different.”

Neteyam’s ears twitched. “Different?”

Lo’ak’s grin turned positively wicked. “Yeah. Like a guy who finally woke up with his woman next to him.”

Neteyam stiffened for half a second before schooling his expression. “Lo’ak—”

“Oh, don’t even try it,” Lo’ak cut in, waving a hand. “I know she was with you last night.”

Neteyam exhaled, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Keep your voice down.”

Lo’ak snorted. “Relax, bro. No one else is listening.” He grinned, nudging Neteyam’s arm. “But c’mon, you gotta admit, this is huge. First night in your own kelku, and you actually let yourself have what you want for once.” He let out a low whistle. “Bet that felt good.”

Neteyam sighed, shaking his head. “It did,” he admitted, quieter now. His voice softened, a small, unguarded smile playing at his lips. “I… I like having her there. Waking up and knowing she’s next to me.”

Lo’ak groaned dramatically. “Ew, bro, keep it in your head, I don’t need details.”

Neteyam huffed out a laugh, shoving his brother lightly. “Shut up, Lo’ak.”

Lo’ak smirked but then took a step back, his teasing expression shifting into something a little more serious. “Listen, I’m happy for you. Really, I am.” His tail flicked, ears twitching slightly. “But… you do realize you’re not exactly subtle, right?”

Neteyam tensed. “What do you mean?”

Lo’ak raised an eyebrow. “I mean, if I can tell just by looking at you, then Grandmother sure as hell picked up on it, too.”

Neteyam’s stomach twisted. He had barely said anything to Mo’at, and yet, she had known. Had Lo’ak really seen it that easily, too?

Lo’ak crossed his arms. “I don’t think she’ll say anything to Mom and Dad… but if you don’t want an argument with them, you should be more careful.”

Neteyam’s jaw clenched. He knew Lo’ak was right. He knew that if their parents found out, it wouldn’t be as simple as it had been with Mo’at. Jake, especially, would have a lot to say.

But…

His mind drifted back to last night—to the way she had looked in the soft glow of the bioluminescent plants that lit his kelku. The way she had curled up beside him, her warmth seeping into him as she slept. The peaceful rise and fall of her breathing, the delicate weight of her resting against him.

How could something that felt so right be so wrong in the clan’s eyes?

Neteyam shook his head. “I don’t want to hide, Lo’ak.”

Lo’ak’s expression flickered with something unreadable. “I get that,” he admitted. “But you know how they are.”

Neteyam exhaled heavily. “I do.” His gaze flicked up to meet Lo’ak’s. “But I also know that I want this.”

Lo’ak sighed, shaking his head with a chuckle. “Yeah, no kidding. You’ve wanted this for ages.”

Neteyam smirked. “And now I have it.”

Lo’ak grinned, clapping a hand on his shoulder. “Yeah, yeah. Just… don’t get caught yet, bro. ‘Cause if it were me sneaking around with a human girl, I’d already be getting the lecture of a lifetime.”

Neteyam snorted. “That’s because you make terrible choices.”

Lo’ak gasped dramatically. “Wow. Betrayed by my own brother.”

Neteyam chuckled, shaking his head as he started walking toward the village paths. Lo’ak fell into step beside him, still grinning.

As they walked, Lo’ak glanced at him sideways. “So… you really like waking up with her, huh?”

Neteyam’s ears flicked. His lips curled slightly, gaze distant but warm. “Yeah,” he murmured. “I do.”

Lo’ak rolled his eyes, but his smirk never wavered. “Damn. You’ve got it bad, bro.”

Neteyam didn’t even deny it.

The steady thrum of the SA-2 Samson’s rotors vibrated through your seat as you peered out the open side door, the thick Pandoran air rushing past you in a humid blur. Below, the jungle stretched endlessly, the deep green canopy occasionally broken by winding rivers and towering rock formations. But up ahead, the dense wilderness gave way to something different—something you hadn’t seen in a long time.

Hell’s Gate.

Or what was left of it.

As the Samson approached, you leaned forward, eyes widening as the ruins of the old RDA compound came into view. Once a sprawling fortress of metal and concrete, the years of neglect had turned it into something else entirely. Rust and vegetation fought for dominance, creeping vines twisting around steel beams, shattered windows glinting in the midday sun. The towering security fences that once stood impenetrable were now collapsed in places, swallowed by the relentless jungle.

But for the first time in years, it looked alive.

Your Samson swooped in low, circling the outskirts of the landing zone before finally descending toward an old clearing, the last functioning helipad still intact.

You barely felt the impact as the landing skids met the ground. As soon as the side doors slid open, you stepped out onto the platform, the rush of fresh air carrying the distinct scent of damp earth and old metal even through the filtration system of your mask.

The scene before you was almost surreal—dozens of people moving in hurried yet precise motions, some in exo-masks, others already adjusted to Pandora’s atmosphere. Avatar drivers hauled heavy crates with ease, towering over the human workers who worked in sync beside them.

Norm was already there, standing near a group of Avatar pilots who were manually sorting cargo. He looked up as you and your team approached, lifting his datapad with a nod.

“Finally,” he called, glancing at the crates still being unloaded. “We need all hands on deck if we want to get this inventory logged before nightfall.”

Kate snorted beside you. “Yeah, yeah, Norm, we’re here. Keep your socks on. Blame our ancient Samson,” Kate quipped, shouldering her bag. “I think it lost a few screws on the way here.”

Norm snorted. “I’ll put in a maintenance request. Maybe we’ll get it fixed in, oh… never.”

You chuckled, then glanced at the towering stacks of crates being unloaded from the Valkyrie. “How much are we looking at?”

Norm rubbed the back of his neck. “A lot. More than we expected.” He handed you a datapad loaded with inventory logs. “We’ve got rations, medical supplies, field equipment… looks like they even threw in some updated research terminals.”

Kate let out a low whistle as she skimmed her own datapad. “Shit. This is actually good stuff.”

“Yeah,” Norm said, then grinned. “And before you ask—yes, there’s coffee.”

Kate gasped, looking up at the sky. “Eywa bless.”

You know Brian, who had stayed back at the outpost, was going to be so mad he missed this.

The group quickly split up, working alongside the others to catalog the shipment. The Valkyrie’s cargo bay was a maze of metal crates, each marked with serial codes that had to be logged before transport. You moved between them, checking your datapad as you double-checked the manifests.

Not far away, a few Avatar drivers were hauling heavier supplies to the storage area, their movements fluid and efficient. One of them—James, a former RDA scientist who had defected—grinned as he carried two massive crates like they weighed nothing.

“Need a hand, shorty?” he teased, nodding at the much smaller box you were lifting.

You rolled your eyes. “You offering, or just showing off?”

“A little of both.” He smirked, easily placing his crates down before taking yours and stacking it on top. “There. Now you won’t throw your back out.”

“Appreciate it,” you said dryly, making a note on your datapad.

Norm rolled his eyes but smirked as he waved you over. “Yeah, yeah. Come on. We’ve got a ton of stuff to go through, and the last thing we need is for this crap to get mixed up with Bridgehead’s shipment.”

You jogged to his side, eyes flicking to the mountain of supplies being sorted. “Damn,” you muttered. “Did we really order this much?”

Norm handed you another datapad. “Six years’ worth of backlog finally catching up with us. We’re getting stuff that was meant to be here ages ago.”

Kate whistled as she skimmed her own list. “That explains why half this shit looks like it was packed by someone who thought we still had the old lab running.”

You flicked through your datapad, quickly calculating the loads. “Okay, we’ll need to prioritize the perishables first. Anything with medical supplies gets packed separately—Max is going to want a full inventory on that.”

“Got it,” Kate said, already typing.

A sharp whistle cut through the air as one of the Avatar drivers—Liam, you thought—waved from a hover cart. “We’re loading the heavier crates onto the western platform. Give me a list of what needs to go first.”

You nodded and tapped quickly on your screen. “Sending it now.”

The next hour passed in a blur of movement—checking manifests, hauling supplies, redirecting mispacked items that were supposed to go to Bridgehead instead. The noise of machinery and voices blended together, the work fast-paced but efficient.

Norm handed you a datapad. “Start checking crate IDs and matching them with the manifest. We’ve got to separate what’s going back to the outpost from what’s staying here.”

Kate took one look at the endless list on her own datapad and groaned. “God, why did I come here?”

You smirked. “Because you wanted to see if there was chocolate.”

Kate pointed at you. “And if there isn’t, I’m burning this place down.”

Shaking your head, you scanned the first set of crates. The work wasn’t hard, just tedious—checking serial numbers, cross-referencing supply lists, making sure nothing was missing. As you moved through the organized chaos, you couldn’t help but marvel at how much life had returned to this place.

Later the storage bay was a war zone.

Stacks of crates towered like haphazard city blocks, lining the walls and filling every available inch of floor space. The entire outpost was a hive of movement—scientists, technicians, and Avatar drivers —now without their Avatars— hauling supplies back and forth, checking lists, arguing over mislabeled shipments, and generally cursing the logistical nightmare that was the latest supply drop.

You sat cross-legged in the middle of the chaos, back hunched over a datapad as you furiously logged inventory. The harsh glow of the overhead lights reflected off the screen, numbers blurring together as you tried to make sense of the mess.

Kate flopped onto a nearby crate with a dramatic groan, swiping her sleeve over her sweaty forehead. “I swear to Eywa, if I have to log one more serial number, I’m going to throw myself into the sterilization unit.”

Brian, hunched over a different stack of boxes, let out a dry laugh. “Make sure you put that in the inventory log before you go.” He tapped his screen. “One human researcher, fully incinerated. No refunds.”

Kate groaned, tilting her head back. “We’ve been at this for three days. Three days.”

You sighed, flicking through the latest shipment manifest. “Yeah, and we’re still not done. There’s at least a dozen more crates in the eastern bay that haven’t even been opened yet.”

Brian dropped his datapad onto his lap. “Whose brilliant idea was it to send this much crap all at once?”

“Blame Earth,” Kate muttered. “Apparently, six years of backlog means we get everything dumped on us at once.” She sat up, rubbing her temples. “And you know what the worst part is?”

Brian gave her a flat look. “Please, enlighten me.”

Kate pointed at the crate beside her. “This entire box? Expired protein bars.”

You winced. “Seriously?”

“Yep.” She patted the crate like it was an old friend. “Some poor soul packed these six years ago thinking they’d be useful. Now they’re basically astronaut-flavored cardboard.”

Brian snorted. “Honestly, that describes half of our rations anyway.”

Kate leaned forward, smirking. “And don’t even get me started on the medical supplies. We found a crate of syringes that expired before we even left Earth.”

You groaned, rubbing your hands over your face. “That’s just great. Max is going to love that.”

Brian clicked his tongue. “Yeah, we should probably tell him before he tries using one and gives someone a eight-year-old infection.”

Kate sighed, flopping back again. “At this point, we might as well just let the Na’vi take over. They have better medicine anyway.”

You exhaled sharply, your fingers tightening around your datapad. The mention of the Na’vi sent your thoughts spiraling back to something—someone—who had been on your mind for days now.

Three days.

Three days since Neteyam last visited.

He had never gone this long without stopping by—not since you’d started spending more time together. He was always there, whether it was dropping by with fresh food, teasing you in that quiet, knowing way of his, or just sitting with you in comfortable silence. Even when he was busy, even when his duties kept him occupied, he always managed to find time.

But now? Nothing. No visits, no messages relayed through Norm or Max. Just… silence.

You tried not to let it get to you. You tried. But you were failing. Kate nudged you suddenly, snapping you out of your thoughts. “Uh-oh. I know that look.”

You blinked. “What look?”

Kate waggled her eyebrows. “That look that says, ‘Where is my tall, blue boyfriend? Why hasn’t he visited me? Does he not love me anymore?’”

Brian smirked, leaning against a crate. “Damn. She went straight for the throat.”

You rolled your eyes, ignoring the heat creeping up your neck. “I’m just wondering why he hasn’t been around, that’s all.”

Kate gasped, clutching her chest dramatically. “Oh my Eywa, you miss him.”

Brian clicked his tongue. “Tragic. The great warrior has abandoned his tiny human.”

You groaned, rubbing your temples. “I hate both of you.”

Kate grinned. “No, you don’t. Now, be honest. Have you been staring at the sky every night through the windows like some lovesick idiot, waiting for him to swoop in on his ikran?”

Brian cupped his hands around his mouth, mimicking a desperate call. “Oh mighty Neteyam, please return to me! My heart cannot bear the distance!”

You threw a rag at his head. “Shut up.”

Brian dodged it, laughing. “Come on, admit it. You’re on edge because he’s been gone for three days.”

You exhaled through your nose, turning your attention back to your datapad. “I’m not on edge.”

Kate snorted. “Oh yeah? Then why did you just re-log that same crate three times?”

You glanced down at your screen. Shit.

Kate cackled. “Busted.”

You groaned, setting your datapad down and rubbing your face. “Fine. Maybe I am a little restless.”

Brian smirked. “A little?”

You shot him a glare.

Kate leaned closer, voice dropping to a teasing whisper. “You know, if you really wanted to see him, you could just hop on the Samson and make a quick trip to the village.”

You scoffed. “Oh yeah, let me just abandon my post and fly straight into the arms of the Olo’eyktan’s son. That won’t cause any issues at all.”

Brian snickered. “Honestly? I’d pay good money to see that.”

Kate sighed dramatically. “Tragic. Separated by duty.” She pressed the back of her hand to her forehead. “How will she ever survive?”

You groaned again, but there was no real annoyance behind it. Still, you couldn’t shake the growing knot in your stomach. Because the truth was, you did miss him. And you were on edge.

Not just because you hadn’t seen him, but because there was no way to find out what was going on. You were stuck here, buried in supply crates and datapads, unable to sneak away even if you wanted to. So you waited. And you hated it.

Kate must have sensed the shift in your mood, because she nudged your foot lightly. “Hey,” she said, her voice a little softer. “I’m sure he’s fine. Probably just busy with clan stuff. You know how it is.”

You nodded, exhaling slowly. “Yeah. I know.”

Brian stretched, cracking his back. “Besides, if something was wrong, Lo’ak or Kiri would’ve sent word by now.”

That was true. If something had happened, you would’ve heard about it. But that didn’t stop the nagging feeling in your gut. Kate smirked, back to her usual self. “So, until your warrior comes to sweep you off your feet, I suggest you distract yourself with more back-breaking labor.”

Brian groaned. “Ugh. Do we have to?”

You smirked, grabbing your datapad. “Yes, we do.”

Kate sighed, hopping off the crate. “Fine. But if Neteyam does show up, I’m taking full credit.”

Brian grinned. “And I’m charging him for emotional damages.”

You laughed, shaking your head as you got back to work. Still, as you scanned the next crate, you found yourself glancing toward the small window.

Waiting.

The fourth night was the hardest.

You lay on your cot, staring at the ceiling of your cramped quarters, listening to the steady hum of the outpost’s ventilation system. The small room was dimly lit by the faint blue glow of your datapad, which lay abandoned on your stomach, the screen dark. You had tried to focus on some research notes, something—anything—to keep your mind busy, but it was useless.

Your thoughts had drifted again.

To him.

To golden eyes that watched you like you were the only thing in the world. To the way his ears twitched whenever you teased him, how his tail flicked when he was amused. To the quiet strength in his voice, the warmth in his touch.

It had been four days. Four whole days since you had last seen Neteyam. Since you had last felt his presence, his steady, grounding warmth.

It wasn’t that long, really. You had spent longer apart before. Before you were a thing. Sometimes he was out on long hunting trips, or busy with the clan, or helping his father patrol the surrounding forests. You had spent entire weeks apart when you first came to the outpost, when your presence in the village was still something new, still uncertain.

But it was different now.

Because for months now—almost every day—he had found you.

Even when his schedule was tight, even when the village kept him busy, even when you were stuck here, drowning in work, he had always found time to come to you. Even if it was just for a few stolen moments, a brief visit, a lingering touch before he had to go again.

And now?

Nothing.

You inhaled sharply, shifting onto your side, gripping the edge of your blanket as frustration curled hot and tight in your chest. You hated how much you missed him. Hated how restless you felt. What the hell is wrong with me?

You scoffed, running a hand over your face. A few days ago, you were the one shooing him away, telling him he was a distraction. And now? Now you were lying here like some lovesick idiot, staring at the ceiling, waiting—hoping—that he would walk through the airlock doors and find you.

But he hadn’t. And what if he didn’t want to?

The thought sent a sharp, unwelcome pang through your chest. No, that’s ridiculous. Neteyam wouldn’t just ignore you. Right?

He was probably just busy. His responsibilities were endless—hunting, patrolling, training the younger warriors, helping his father maintain order in the village. You had always known that. You had always respected that.

But… what if there was another reason?

What if he had chosen not to come?

The thought lingered, sinking its claws into your brain, no matter how much you tried to push it away.

You exhaled, rolling onto your back again, staring at the tiny cracks in the metal ceiling panels.

Ache coiled tight in your chest, heavy and suffocating.

You missed him.

You missed him so much it made you angry.

This was his fault. He had made you need him. He had spoiled you, coming to you whenever he could, making himself a constant presence in your life. And now, after four days of silence, you felt like something was missing.

You groaned into your pillow, hating yourself just a little bit. It wasn’t supposed to feel like this. But it did. And you didn’t know what to do about it.

The morning started like the ones before it—filled with work.

The outpost was still buzzing from the chaos of the supply shipment. The last of the crates were being moved into storage, equipment was being set up, and everyone was running on whatever caffeine substitute they could get their hands on.

You were running on nothing.

You hadn't slept well, mind tangled in frustration and thoughts of him. The weight of it sat heavily on your shoulders as you worked alongside Kate, sorting through the new field kits. The two of you were in the middle of debating whether one particular box had been mislabeled when a familiar voice rang through the outpost’s main hall.

“Norm! Max!”

Your hands froze.

Kate perked up. “Was that—?”

Before she could finish, the sound of hurried footsteps echoed through the metal corridors. A second later, Kiri burst into the outpost, her braid swinging over her shoulder, a wide grin lighting up her face.

Norm and Max were already rushing toward her, their expressions shifting from surprise to pure joy.

“Kiri!” Norm beamed. “Eywa, look at you! You’ve been avoiding us, huh?”

Max grinned, stepping forward. “Two months. You disappeared on us, kid.”

Kiri laughed, looking down enough to give them both an exasperated look. “Oh, come on, it hasn’t been that long.”

“It has,” Max deadpanned. “We were starting to think you forgot about us.”

Norm chuckled. “It’s good to see you, kid.”

Kate nudged you playfully. “Well, look at that. The jungle princess returns.”

You should have laughed. Should have stepped forward and greeted her. But you couldn’t move. Because you were frozen—your breath caught in your throat, heart thudding in your chest. Kiri was here. And suddenly, all you could hear was Brian’s voice in your head from days ago: "Lo’ak or Kiri would tell us if something happened to Neteyam."

Your stomach dropped.

No.

Your hands went clammy.

No, no, no, no.

Your heart started pounding, a horrible, suffocating weight pressing against your ribs. Kiri was here for you.

Not just stopping by, not just visiting the outpost. She had come for you specifically.

Your fingers clenched into fists. You barely registered Kate pulling you forward, her voice light and teasing as she called out, “Alright, don’t just hog her for yourselves! Let us say hi too!”

You followed, but your feet felt like lead. As you stepped closer, Kiri’s sharp eyes flicked toward you—her smile faltering slightly the moment she got a good look at your face.

And then—

Flick!

A sharp tap against your forehead snapped you out of your spiraling thoughts. You blinked, eyes refocusing just in time to see Kiri grinning at you, arm still raised from where she had flicked you.

“Breathe,” she said simply.

You stared at her.

Kiri smirked, tilting her head. “I’m here for you.”

Your mouth opened, but no words came out.

Kiri let out a dramatic sigh. “Oh, Eywa. You really thought something happened to him?”

Your throat was so tight it hurt.

“…Didn’t it?” you croaked.

Kiri blinked at you, then let out a bark of laughter. “Oh, Eywa, no! He’s fine!”

You didn’t believe her. You couldn’t believe her. Because if he was fine, then where the hell had he been for the last four days? Kiri must have seen the doubt on your face, because she shook her head with an amused huff before crossing her arms. “My brother is insufferable.”

That caught you off guard. “…What?”

Kiri smirked. “That’s why I’m here.” She shot you a pointed look. “We figured it out—he needs to see you.”

Your brain struggled to keep up. “What does that even mean?”

Kiri rolled her eyes. “It means he’s been moping for days. Walking around like a storm cloud. Snapping at people. Being dramatic.”

You opened your mouth, then closed it. “…What?”

Kate snickered beside you.

Kiri turned fully to you, hands on her hips, looking entirely too pleased with herself. “My dear, hopeless brother has been miserable.”

You stared.

Kiri grinned. “It took all of us about two days to figure it out.” She crossed her arms. “It’s you. You’re the problem.”

You blinked. “I—excuse me?”

Kate snorted, barely holding back her laughter.

Kiri rolled her eyes. “Not in a bad way. I mean, you are the reason he’s like this.”

Your heart stuttered. “But… but I thought—”

Kiri waved a hand. “He’s been gone because my father dumped a ridiculous amount of duties on him. Patrolling, escorting, hunting—basically keeping the warriors busy after the Valkyrie landed, just to make sure that every humans left the forest.” She huffed. “He’s been running around nonstop, keeping the borders secure, making sure none of the new Sky People wandered anywhere they shouldn’t.”

You inhaled sharply.

Oh. That made… sense. More sense than the ridiculous idea you’d convinced yourself of—that Neteyam hadn’t wanted to see you.

Kate was grinning. “So what I’m hearing is… he’s been sulking because he hasn’t seen her?”

Kiri smirked. “Bingo.”

You were still processing. Still trying to make sense of it. Kiri rolled her eyes and flicked your forehead again. “Ow—!”

“Stop overthinking!” she scolded, looking way too entertained. “He’s been suffering, and you’ve been suffering, and honestly, I’m sick of it.”

Kate snorted. “Wow. True sibling energy.”

You barely heard them. Because Eywa, the past four days had been hell, and the entire time, you had thought— You had thought he didn’t care. But he did. And now?

Now, you needed to see him.

The journey to the village was a blur of rushing air and Kiri’s constant, relentless teasing.

She had barely given you a moment to react after her “I’m sick of it” declaration before practically hauling you onto her ikran. There had been no time to argue, no time to second-guess. You had barely managed to settle yourself before her, because Kiri immediately took off, the jungle whipping past in a blur of green and gold.

“You better appreciate this,” Kiri had shouted over the wind. “I don’t just escort humans for free, you know.”

You had rolled your eyes but held onto the tiny saddle’s edge anyway, heart pounding—not from the flight, but from the knowledge that you were finally heading back. Back to the village. Back to him.

By the time you landed, the sun was high, casting dappled patterns through the thick canopy. The village bustled with midday activity—hunters returning with the morning’s catch, children darting between woven huts, voices rising and falling in easy conversation. It smelled like roasting meat, woodsmoke, and the faint, fresh scent of the flowering vines that clung to the high tree trunks.

And the second your feet hit the ground, something inside you settled. The tension you hadn’t even realized you’d been carrying for the past five days melted as you inhaled deeply, filling your lungs with the humid air of the Omatikaya’s home.

Kiri must have noticed, because she smirked. “Huh. You already look better.”

You huffed. “Shut up.”

Kiri just snickered and grabbed your wrist, pulling you along. “Come on. Neteyam’s not back yet, which means you stick with me. I don’t need people getting the wrong idea.”

You frowned, glancing at her. “The wrong idea about what?”

Kiri shot you a pointed look. “About why you’re here.”

You opened your mouth, then closed it, heat creeping up your neck. “I—I’m here to visit. To see everyone.”

Kiri’s smirk deepened. “Sure, sure.” She gave you a slow once-over, her tail flicking in amusement. “You know, if I were a random villager, I’d probably think you were some love-drunk human girl flying in for her Na’vi warrior boyfriend.”

Your face burned. “Kiri!”

“What?” she laughed, her sharp golden eyes gleaming with mischief. “I’m just saying. You’re kinda radiating desperation right now.”

You gasped, scandalized. “I am not!”

Kiri cackled, clearly enjoying herself far too much. “Oh, you so are.”

You groaned, throwing your head back. “Eywa, why am I friends with you?”

“Because I’m great.” She grinned, giving your arm a tug. “Now, let’s go see Grandmother. She’s been experimenting with new salves, and I wanna show you the ones I made.”

You let yourself be dragged through the village, rolling your eyes but smiling despite yourself.

The scent of burning herbs and dried flowers greeted you as you stepped into Mo’at’s tent. The cool shade inside was a welcome contrast to the heat outside, the air thick with the rich aroma of medicinal pastes and freshly ground plants.

Mo’at sat near the center, a bowl resting in her lap, her sharp eyes flicking up as Kiri led you in. “You return,” Mo’at mused, voice steady as she ground a handful of dried roots into a fine powder.

You dipped your head in greeting. “Oel ngati kameie, Tsahik.”

Mo’at made a small sound of acknowledgment but said nothing more, her gaze lingering on you for just a moment longer than necessary before returning to her work.

Kiri, oblivious to her grandmother’s quiet scrutiny, flopped down beside her and pulled a bundle from her satchel. “I made new salves,” she announced proudly, unwrapping the cloth to reveal several small jars of smooth, dark-colored paste. “I tested them on Lo’ak, and he didn’t die, so that’s a good sign.”

You snorted. “That’s your quality check?”

Kiri grinned. “Obviously.”

Mo’at hummed, setting aside her own mixture as she took one of Kiri’s jars. She removed the lid, bringing it to her nose and inhaling deeply. “Mm.” Her sharp eyes flicked to Kiri. “What did you use?”

Kiri straightened, tail curling slightly in anticipation. “Crushed yutrel leaves mixed with tsah bark and a little bit of kali’weya poison. I wanted something stronger for deep wounds, something that would speed up clotting without causing irritation.”

You listened intently, stepping closer. “That’s smart,” you murmured, already thinking through the ingredients in your head. “But won’t the tsah bark make it too astringent? That stuff stings like hell on open wounds.”

Kiri’s ears perked. “Yeah, it would, normally. That’s why I balanced it with yutrel—it neutralizes the sting without messing with the clotting effect.”

You let out a thoughtful hum, intrigued. “Huh. I never thought of that.”

Mo’at watched the exchange in silence, her fingers still idly swirling the paste inside the jar.

You hardly noticed. You were already reaching for another one of Kiri’s jars, your curiosity getting the better of you. “And this one? It smells different.”

Kiri grinned. “That one’s for burns. I used a yovo fruit base to keep it hydrating, but I infused it with dried hìrumwll petals to speed up healing.”

You leaned in, fascinated. “Hìrumwll? Isn’t that could be toxic if used raw?”

Kiri nodded. “Yup. But once it’s dried and ground, it’s perfectly safe. It’s actually got insane healing properties—I tested it on my own arm after I burned myself on hot coals.”

You gasped. “When did you do that?”

“Last week.” Kiri shrugged. “I barely have a scar now, though, so I’m calling it a win.”

You rolled your eyes. “You are so reckless.”

Kiri grinned. “And yet, I’m still here.”

Mo’at let out a soft hmm of amusement but said nothing, her gaze flicking between the two of you as you continued your discussion.

Her aged golden eyes followed the way you moved, the way your fingers traced over different herbs with familiarity. The way your brows furrowed in concentration, the way your lips moved as you and Kiri debated the differences in Pandoran medicinal properties versus human antiseptics.

Mo’at had met you many times before. Had seen you in this tent on multiple occasions.

But today… Today, she saw you differently. She saw what Neteyam saw.

A human girl, small and fragile by Na’vi standards, but with a mind that absorbed knowledge like a sponge. A girl who had no true place among them—yet had spent years trying to carve one out for herself anyway.

She had always tolerated your presence, had even respected your curiosity. But after her conversation with Neteyam just days ago… Now, she looked at you through his eyes.

She saw how you eagerly leaned in when Kiri spoke, how your fingers twitched like you were mentally cataloging each new piece of information. How you wanted to learn.

And suddenly, Mo’at understood. Understood why Neteyam had chosen. Understood why his heart had strayed outside the boundaries of their world.

Because you sitting before her now—the one who spoke of Pandoran plants as if they were as familiar to you as the sky—were not just a human.

You were something more. And for the first time, Mo’at truly saw you.

The sky was deepening into twilight, Pandora’s bioluminescent flora beginning to glow with soft pulses of light as the village settled into the evening. The faint hum of conversation and laughter drifted through the air from the communal fire, where the Omatikaya were gathering for their meal.

You had no intention of joining them. Not after last time. Not after the way Neytiri had looked at you.

Kiri nudged you with her elbow. “Come on. You’ve been working yourself to death for days. You should eat something.”

You hesitated, shifting on your feet. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

Kiri raised an eyebrow. “What, why?”

You exhaled, glancing toward the gathered Na’vi. “Your mother wasn’t exactly thrilled the last time I was here.”

Kiri scoffed. “Please. That was weeks ago. She doesn’t hate you.”

You shot her a flat look.

Kiri winced. “Okay, maybe she strongly dislikes your presence sometimes, but she’ll survive.”

Kiri must have seen the hesitation in your eyes because she groaned loudly. “I swear, you’re impossible. I brought you all the way here to see Neteyam, not to have you freak out and run back to your lab.”

You frowned. “I’m not freaking out.”

Kiri scoffed. “Then prove it. Wait for him.”

You hesitated, glancing toward the paths leading out of the village. “I don’t know…”

Kiri rolled her eyes. “Fine, if you won’t come eat with me, then at least go wait for him in his kelku.”

You blinked. “What?”

Kiri shrugged. “He’ll go there eventually, and you’ll already be waiting. Perfect solution.”

Your stomach twisted at the idea. Being alone in Neteyam’s kelku, waiting for him? That felt… different.

More intimate.

More real. “I don’t know if I should—”

Kiri groaned. “For Eywa’s sake, just go.”

You exhaled, shifting your weight. “What if—”

Kiri’s sharp golden eyes pinned you in place. “Nope. No ‘what ifs.’ No more excuses. You’re staying.” She gave you a little shove. “Go.”

You swallowed hard but finally nodded. “Fine.”

Kiri smirked. “That’s more like it.”

With one last glance toward the glowing fire in the distance—where the rest of the village was gathered—you turned away, heart pounding as you made your way toward Neteyam’s kelku.

By the time you reached the large tree where Neteyam’s home was perched, the village around you had grown quiet. The laughter and chatter from the communal fire were distant now, muffled by the thick foliage. This side of the village, where many of the warriors had built their homes, was mostly empty at this hour—everyone had gone to eat.

Your heart pounded as you approached the base of the tree, craning your neck to look up. It was exactly as you remembered it. The woven structure sat high above, the bioluminescent flora casting a soft, ghostly glow against the thatched walls. A thick branch jutted out just beside the main entrance—a space for his ikran to land when needed. The climbing path up was built into the tree, reinforced with strong vines and footholds.

Taking a deep breath, you reached for the first one. Climbing was easier this time. The first time you had done it, Neteyam had been behind you, guiding your steps, making sure you didn’t slip. Now, you moved with careful ease, finding your footing quickly.

When you finally hoisted yourself onto the platform, you paused, catching your breath. The kelku was silent. Tentatively, you stepped inside.

The interior was just as you remembered—crafted with careful hands, strong yet open enough to allowing the night air to move freely through the space. Woven mats covered the floor, and the central fire pit was unlit, leaving only the glow of the surrounding plants to illuminate the space.

Your gaze drifted to the far side of the room. The bed. A soft nest of woven fibers, layered with thick pelts. Your stomach twisted at the sight of it.

Memories of that night came flooding back—the way his arm had been draped over your waist, the warmth of his breath against your hair, the steady rise and fall of his chest beneath your hand.

You swallowed hard, pushing the thoughts away. Slowly, you walked further inside, taking in the small details. The way the space still smelled like him—woodsmoke, earth, something distinctly Neteyam. The way everything seemed lived in now, as though he had finally settled into this place as his home.

A quiet sigh left your lips as you sat down near the edge of the bed. Now all that was left to do was wait.

The night air carried the distant murmur of the village, a rhythmic hum of laughter and conversation from the communal fire. But here, high above the forest floor in the quiet sanctuary of Neteyam’s kelku, you were alone.

And you had been alone for the past hour. You had told yourself you would wait for him. That you would stay until he returned, just as Kiri had said. But now, as the time stretched on, doubt crept in.

Maybe this wasn’t a good idea. Maybe you shouldn’t have come at all.

You sat curled up on the thick pelts in the farthest corner of the room, your legs tucked beneath you, fingers absently fidgeting with the edge of your sleeve. You had tried to be patient. But the longer you sat there, the more ridiculous you felt.

What if he wasn’t coming back tonight?

The thought made your chest tighten. You had spent the last few days convincing yourself that Neteyam was simply busy, that his absence wasn’t something to worry about. But now, sitting here in his home—his space—you felt like an intruder.

With a quiet sigh, you braced your hands against the bedding and pushed yourself up.

You should leave.

Even though your heart ached to see him, even though you had spent every night longing for the warmth of his arms around you, this… this was foolish. You had come here uninvited, desperate to catch even a glimpse of him after nearly five days apart. But what if—

The soft rustling of movement outside made you freeze.

Your breath hitched as a shadow moved across the entrance and you ploped down back to the pelts. And then, he stepped inside.

Neteyam.

He hadn’t seen you yet. His tall frame filled the doorway, his broad shoulders tense with exhaustion. His usually neat braids were slightly disheveled, a fine layer of dust coating his skin. He moved with the careful precision of a warrior returning from a long patrol, his every muscle taut from hours of vigilance.

Your heart clenched at the sight of him.

He was so tired. Neteyam exhaled deeply, rolling his shoulders as he stepped fully into the kelku, his movements slow and weary. He had been pushed hard these last few days—you could see it in the stiffness of his body, in the way he moved like every step carried a weight unseen.

You opened your mouth to speak, but before you could, he finally turned. His body went completely still. Golden eyes locked onto yours.

He froze, lips parted slightly, his breath caught in his throat. For a long moment, he simply stared at you, his expression unreadable—like he wasn’t sure if you were real or if exhaustion had finally broken him.

Your chest tightened. And Eywa, you had missed him. A slow, hesitant smile pulled at your lips. “Hey.”

The moment the word left your mouth, something shifted in him. His entire body seemed to release all the tension he had been holding for days, his shoulders dropping, his ears flicking forward. Relief flooded his golden gaze, his exhale unsteady as if he had been holding his breath for too long.

“You’re here,” he murmured, his voice rough from fatigue.

You nodded, stepping closer. “Yeah.”

For a brief moment, neither of you moved. You just looked at each other, drinking in the sight of the other like you were afraid to blink and lose this moment. Then, without thinking, he closed the distance between you and quickly crouching down before your sitting form, your hands reaching up to cup his jaw.

Neteyam sucked in a sharp breath. And then, he melted. His arms wrapped around you instantly, pulling up into an almost awkward standing pose, crushing you against him as he buried his face in your hair. His hands splayed across your back, holding you like he needed to anchor himself to something solid. His entire body trembled slightly, his exhale warm against your temple.

“You have no idea how much I missed you,” you murmured.

Neteyam let out a quiet chuckle, but there was something raw underneath it. “I think I do,” he murmured, his voice thick with something unreadable.

You stayed like that for a long moment, wrapped in his warmth, breathing him in. The steady, strong rhythm of his heart beneath your palm was soothing, grounding you in the reality that he was here, that he was safe.

Eventually, Neteyam leaned back just enough to meet your gaze. A smirk ghosted across his lips as he brushed a strand of hair from your face. “So… you were waiting for me, hmm?”

You rolled your eyes. “Shut up.”

His smirk widened. “No, no. I like this.” His tail flicked playfully behind him, his golden eyes gleaming with amusement. “I come home after a long day of being away, and what do I find? My little human, waiting for me in our kelku.”

Your stomach flipped.

Our kelku.

You swallowed hard, your face heating at the way he said it—so casual, like it was obvious, like there had never been a question in his mind that this place belonged to both of you. Neteyam’s ears twitched, his smirk deepening as he took in your flustered expression.

You tilted your head with a slight blush, studying him. “Are you okay?”

He let out a deep exhale, rubbing a hand over his face. “Now? Yes.” His sharp gaze softened, tail flicking. “I needed to see you.”

The weight of his words settled deep in your chest, warm and steady. He needed to see you. Eywa, you had needed to see him too. Every part of you ached with it.

Your breath hitched as you stared up at him, at the tired lines around his eyes, at the way his shoulders had finally relaxed now that you were here. You wanted to ease the tension from his body, to erase the exhaustion written in every inch of him.

And so, without thinking, you took a deep breath, fingers reaching for the seal of your exo-mask.

Neteyam’s eyes widened slightly, his body stiffening as he realized what you were about to do. His lips parted as if to speak, to protest— But then you pulled the mask off.

The rush of Pandora’s air hit your face instantly, cool against your skin and then, before he could say a word, before he could stop you—

You kissed him.

It was immediate, desperate. The moment your lips met his, Neteyam inhaled sharply, his hands tightening on your waist like he was grounding himself in the reality of you. And then, he kissed you back.

A low sound rumbled from his chest, something between a sigh and a growl, and it made your knees weak. His hands slid up your back, pulling you impossibly closer as he angled his head, deepening the kiss. He was starving for you, drinking you in like he had been deprived of you for too long—because he had.

His lips were soft but urgent, moving against yours with a kind of longing that made your heart clench. His sharp fangs grazed your bottom lip, and you shivered, fingers curling into his braids as you let yourself sink into him completely.

Gods, you had missed this. Missed him.

His lips moved against yours with a quiet urgency, warm and firm, drinking in every second of this stolen moment. His grip tightened as he deepened the kiss, pulling you closer, tilting his head just right so he could claim you fully, completely.

Your lungs burned, but you didn’t care. All you could focus on was the way he felt—the press of his lips, the warmth of his body, the quiet, shaky exhale he let out when you ran your fingers through his braids.

But then, as if sensing the growing need for air, Neteyam gently broke the kiss, his forehead resting against yours. His voice was a whisper, breathless and soft against your lips.

“Put it back.”

His words were tender but firm, and you barely managed to nod before you quickly secured your mask back in place. The first inhale of filtered air filled your lungs, but your chest still felt tight—for a different reason entirely.

When your gaze met his again, Neteyam’s expression was soft, full of something deep and unspoken. His hand came up, his fingers grazing your jaw, then trailing down to rest against your collarbone, like he needed to feel that you were here, that you were real.

“You didn’t have to do that,” he murmured, his voice low.

You gave him a small smile. “I wanted to.”

His ears flicked at that, something warm flickering across his features. For a moment, neither of you spoke. You just stood there, wrapped in the quiet of his kelku, in the space between heartbeats.

Then, his fingers brushed along your waist, his voice quieter now. “Stay with me tonight.”

Your breath hitched, and his golden gaze searched yours, waiting. A slow smile curled at your lips. “I will,” you said, voice soft. “I promised.”

Something in his expression melted at that. And as Neteyam pulled you against him once more, tucking you beneath his chin, his arms wrapping around you in a way that left no space between your bodies, you knew. No matter how many days apart, no matter how long the wait—

You would always find your way back to each other.

I still don't understand why I'm making the whole story sooooo slow burn.

Part 21: To expect

[riskyraiker]

Sex pollen

TFP!Optimus Prime x Reader

Everything has been going fine with team Prime since no decepticons were causing chaos and MECH has been quiet as well. The day was supposed to go well, if a pod of some kind wouldn't have landed on earth. Ratchet detected it first on the computer, notifying Optimus about it. Bee was with Raf, Arcee with Jack and Bulkhead with Miko so Y/N was the only one left to tag along. 

“What is the origin of the pod?” You ask Optimus with a raised brow walking through the groundbridge, seeing forestry afterwards. “The origin wasn't listed on the signal, and we don't have any visual of it yet.” Optimus replies and looks for the signal. Walking around, being wary of any decepticons, you spot something. A pod like the signal said. “Optimus, i've found the pod. It isn't opened yet but it has no insignia on it. Should I open it?” You commlink and receive a negative answer from Optimus. “Wait for me, Y/N. It's never clear what's in there.” You wait for Optimus, following his instructions until you hear a click. It was the pod, it's making noise, is it…opening? And POOF some form of gas hits your faceplate and you inhale some of it in shock. “Y/n what happened?” Optimus arrived at the scene, checking on you. “The pod” cough “opened and exploded some gas all over me and right on my faceplate, inhaled some of it.” You cough and hold onto Optimus so you won't fall. Once your state has stabilized, Optimus grabs the pod and contacts Ratchet for a groundbridge. 

“Old friend, would you check on Y/n they inhaled whatever came out of the pod.” Optimus asks, leaving with the pod, taking it away from the others. Sigh “Well come on Y/n. Let's check your stats.” You were about to walk over to the berth in the medbay until everything felt off, it was unbearably hot and your fans went on, working on 60%. “Ratch..I don't feel so great. Like I'm overheating and so much more” Ratchet knew immediately something was off when you froze and your fans were humming quite loudly. He's already by your side, helping you to the berth. He scans you, noticing something was off in your tanks. He checks everything possible until he finds the source of your overheating. “Not good.” Ratchet mumbles and turns around. “Y/n you need to be quarantined for a bit. Go to your berthroom for now, and don't let anyone in! You inhaled some hortuan gas, it makes your processor overwork your frame and crave…interfacing.” Ratched explains more about it for example the so-called “heat” will end if you empty your tanks with interfacing, antide or on its own, which is a month. The medical facts leave you shocked. He shooed you away and got to work on how to solve it. Goddamnit! You were unlucky at least for now.

Retreating to your berthroom, you lay down and try to relax, hoping your cooling system won't overwork itself. After a while you find out it's useless to even try to relax, your processor is now running through every possible situation where you're interfacing with somebody. God, it would be nice. Lubricant was leaking now between your legs, your plates were not able to keep it hidden. If this was the effects of a few earth hours how would the rest of the day be or possibly the whole week? Others were informed of your state and how you wouldn't be able to leave your berthroom for a few days or longer until Ratchet figured out how to stop the side effects. The bots brought you energon time to time and talked with you, except Optimus. He was busy doing research and anything else on his datapad. He was worried about you, of course, he was since he's the team leader, but this was something else. He wanted to help you, to do something but he isn't a doctor of any kind. 

The first day wasn't that bad but after a few days? You're like a zombie with only one thought, craving brains except you were craving sex. A lot of it. And the only bot who you thought about was Optimus. His beautiful hips that you could hold tightly when thrusting into him or his neck cabling that you would bite into. You had enough, you won't wait for any form of antidote or the heat to pass. Walking out of the room searching for a specific door, groaning and rubbing your thighs together while walking. Knocking on the one specific door you hear pedsteps and once the door opens, you check. It's Optimus with a quite surprised look. “Y/n shouldn't you be in quarantine?” He asks while you breathe heavily, staring at the Prime. It wasn't long until you launched yourself straight against Optimus, pushing him down, while the door closed automatically. “Let me have you, please?” You beg still breathing heavily and already grinding against the bot below you. “I've been thinking of nothing else except you. You, you, and you full of..me. Let me have you.” it wasn't a question anymore, more like a demand. If the Prime was against this he could overpower you most likely. Your lips crash against his and your glossa slides right through. Your servos grab onto the sides of Optimus’ faceplate, pulling him closer. You get more aggressive with your movements, grinding harder against Optimus and tugging his helm closer if that's even possible. The making out continues while you lift him up somehow and carry him over to the berth. “Open up, open up, open the plates, please!” You growl against Optimus’ lips and you can hear how his interface plating opens, how lubricant leaks all over the berth. “Oh love, can I taste you?” You ask patiently even though you can barely hold back yourself and your actions. Optimus gasps and takes a moment to answer “You may. Please do.” Even if Optimus is losing his composure he still is polite as always. 

You dive in between the Prime’s legs and start devouring the wet valve, not having enough so you suck on his external node. The stimulation makes Optimus clench his thighs and wrap them around your head, making him groan. Sticking your tongue into the wet warmth, you can't help but moan at the taste. The lubricant gushing and squirting everywhere, as you eat the Prime out, gives the air a sour odor. You felt like you were…high? It's the gas or the fact that the Prime was holding your helm between his peds. “Ugh! Ray, please do not stop, I'm about to- nghh!” Optimus groaned and like on command your intake is filled with cum. You eat the mech out a little more since you don't want to waste any single drop. That taste is so heavenly and you need more of it. The click of your own interface plating opening makes Optimus glance at you only to be bit gently on his neck cables. The stimulation on his cables distracted him so much that he didn’t realize you were pushing in, the sudden stretch in his valve made him moan and throw his head back while you leaned your helm against Optimus’ shoulder bottoming out. The moment your spike has completely vanished into the Prime’s warmth, he shrieks. Your spike touched Optimus’ ceiling node perfectly, while you were loving the sounds Optimus made he was embarrassed and covered half of his face with his battle mask. “No. Take it off. Now.” You growl and start thrusting hard right into the mech's ceiling node. You can hear the sound of the mask deactivating and you grin that lust-filled smile until you kiss the prime again. The clanging of metal continues as you two make out, both close again to overloading. The moment you reach your climax, a few seconds after Optimus, you pull out, flip the Prime over, and push back in. You growl of pleasure (Fucking animal…) and pull the smokestacks located on the Prime’s back, which surprises Optimus who gasps at the sudden force. Now his back is pressed against your chest you nibble at the sensitive cabling, you remained the same since you walked through the door, while Optimus’ act has completely fallen. His calm and strong mentality was broken to nothing except moaning and whining since his legs shaking with too much tension and hips meeting your thrusts. It takes a while until your thrusts and stimulation make both of you overload, but this time Optimus is starting to get overstimulated while you continue. “R-Ray..Agh! Too much.” Optimus whines as you tug harder at his smokestacks. “I assume Ratchet tol- ngh! He told you about my condition and how it stops. Well, I’m no- ahh. I’m not stopping until my tanks are empty and spilled into you, sweetspark.” You whisper into his audio receptor and bite the little piece of it. Optimus knew that you wouldn’t stop, driven by the bio-gas in your system so he tried his best to endure the overstimulation, but after his fourth orgasm, he couldn’t bear it anymore. You hear the whines and pleas of stopping, but you’re so close to emptying your tanks. “One more, sweetspark. One more.” And you go on with deep yet painfully slow. As your climax arrives the seventh time, Optimus overloads one last time which is his fifth. While Optimus has tears bubbling in his optics and letting dry away, you’re gasping for air. Your tanks are empty so the effect of the gas goes away, and the moment you become conscious, you tense up. Seeing the prime in such shape and you were the one who caused it made you feel awful until the Prime understood the state you were in he talked you back to reality. “You do know I could’ve stopped you if I didn’t want it.” The words almost went through your other audio receptor until your lips met Optimus’. He kissed you to bring you back of your head. 

The two of you clean up and head out of the berthroom to inform Ratchet of your well-being. You both also know if you tell Ratchet he will know what you did. While walking over to the main area Ratchet does recognize Optimus’ walk pattern so he starts to talk. “Optimus I’m almost done with the antidote for Ray.” You cringe in embarrassment and cover your face while Optimus surprisingly chuckles. “About that old friend. We’ve come to inform you of Ray’s well-being.” Ratchet heard Optimus just fine, but does his research a few seconds before turning around, spotting Optimus and… you. “Ray. Don’t tell me you did what I think you did.” Ratchet whispers. You snicker and blurb it out “I couldn’t handle it, marched over to Optimus’ room, and finished what I started!” Ratchet just groans since he is close to finishing his project on the antidote. “No wonder Bumblebee mentioned metal clanging in the hallway.” The medic mumbled just loud enough for you both to hear. While you laughed at the new statement Optimus was the one embarrassed this time. “I hope it was just the clanging he heard.” You whisper and snicker once again.

--------------------------------------

AN: This is my first time posting smut on tumblr SO if you want to read more do go on AO3 and there is more of fics like this one!

My AO3 profile:

https://archiveofourown.org/users/risky_writer/works

[roguishcat]

Snippet Sunday

Thank you so much for tagging me @inkymoonbunny! Can't wait for the next chapter of 'Branded Blood'! 💖

I'm currently working on @the-lady-mienshao 's ask (Astarion finds one of fem! Reader’s books (romance about a human and vampire of course) and she’s terrified that he’ll think she’s with him to sate a vampire kink)

I'm very slow, but I do get things done!😊 (eventually), so this is going to be Part 2 of 'What books don't teach you' (18+ MNDI).

Shelves upon shelves of novels. The biggest and most impressive collection in all of Faerûn. You scoured Sharess' Caress, picked up copies during your travels, and traded with other enthusiasts. You collected the books with fervour others reserve for collecting priceless trinkets and hid these away from prying eyes in the basement of your house.

To say that Astarion was impressed would be an understatement.

"And how exactly are these arranged, my sweet? Knowing your penchant for keeping things in order, one might expect to find a system of sorts."

"Thematically, actually. Started out alphabetically, but then it got confusing once I got my hands on tomes in Elvish and other languages."

"Elvish, you say? I didn’t realise that you are a master of tongues."

"I'm not," you admitted readily, the innuendo going completely over your head. "But I love how beautiful they are. And I figured that wanting to read these might be motivation enough for me to learn."

Astarion hummed in appreciation and ran his fingers along the spines. The books were truly a work of art, fine leather and beautiful designs that winked playfully at you when you tilted your head even a little.

"Whilst this is very impressive, I don't understand why you were never tempted to try the real thing."

"Well," you cleared your throat and pretended that you were very busy going through the scrolls on the table, "maybe I was waiting for you. Waiting to be swept off my feet by a charming, dreamy elf."

"And I'm absolutely certain that I was worth the wait. But enough flowery words."

Astarion looked at you intently, making you fidget and drop a couple of scrolls. He didn't look away from your face. You being clumsy was not news to him. However, Astarion seemed to have great interest in your answer.

Although you confessed your feelings - not that it wasn't obvious to everyone who cared to look that you were completely in love with Astarion- actually talking about the said feelings was still difficult. But you didn't want to lie to him either. So, you chose to settle for something as close to the real reason as you were ready to tell him.

"I told you. I don't have that confidence that comes so easily to some. And I did try once, you know."

"Yes, with the man who was lacking in both skill and manners."

The look on Astarion's face became a touch softer. He put his cool hand on top yours, long digits strocking smooth, warm skin. The comforting gesture was sweet, his nearness welcome.

"Well, at the time I thought that I was the problem. And then I was lucky enough to have you teach me." You took a step towards him and tilted your head up. You very much wanted a kiss but did not know if now was the right time. In spite of you 'being well and truly taken', you still felt nervous about asking Astarion for affection.

Fortunately, he did not seem to notice you nervously chewing on your bottom lip as you tried to think of best way to put your wants into words.

"Oh? What's this?" Astarion moved past you and reached for a book. "Caught in the night?" He raised his eyebrows and then started reading the titles of all the books on that shelf. "Blood to remember? The Count's Courtesan? La petite mort? Darling, it seems that you've had a taste for creatures of the night before we met, hm?"

"Pardon?" You said dumbly.

"Well, my sweet. If I may be so bold, by my very rough estimation, you have at least thirty books with damsels of all shapes being kidnapped and devoured by vampires."

"Forty-two, actually."

"And that is why I feel it's safe to assume that you've got a type. Fangs? Crimson eyes? Eternal hunger that can only be sated in one way? And fortunately for yours truly, I just happen to fit that description."

No pressure tags💖 : @obsessedwhyyes, @rahuratna, @preciouslittlebhaalbae, @arzen9, @clazberryk, @khywren, @vixstarria, @hellethil, @nyx-knox, @pursuitseternal, @busy-baker, @deadly-diminuendo, @wilteddreamsofbaldursgate, @bloodinwine, @xxnashiraxx, @charmandabear, @anacdoce, @larvasmoon, @vividiana, @davenswitcher, @funniestbitchinfaerun, @verbenaa, @pinkberrytea, @dramatiquechipmunk, @nerdallwritey, @marlowethebard, @bardic-inspo, @forget-me-maybe, @whiskeyskin, @lanafofana, @fangbangerghoul, @rivereverie, @starlight-rogue, @bum-dragon, @alwaysmauria, @bhaal-battle-beer-bard, @dez78, @shandoratheexplorer, @ravenswritingroom

[bullet-prooflove]

Charlie: Charlie Reid x Reader

Tagging:@kmc1989 @littleesilvia @wrestlequeen @ahopelessromanticwritersworld @beebeechaos

Summary: Charlie meets someone unexpected one night at his pool hall.

Companion piece to:

Risk Management - Charlie realises the two of you have been keeping secrets from one another.

Deals With The Devil - Charlie's fall from grace starts with an act of love.

The Ghost That Lingers In The Nighttime - Charlie's becoming accustomed to the late night visits.

It starts with a game of pool.

Just one at The Thirsty Lion, the poolhall that Charlie frequents when he doesn’t want to be a cop anymore. It’s happening more and more lately, his disillusionment with the system, his despair everytime another kid dies in his arms, one that had nothing to do with the drive by that occurred on her block.

This city it’s relentless and Charlie, he’s tired, more tired than he’s ever been because all his job does is take. Emotionally, physically, it’ll drink you dry until there’s nothing left to give and then spit you out as if you where nothing. The only time he doesn’t feel that helplessness is here in the poolhall, he can focus on the game, the methodology, he can control the outcomes which is a damn sight more than he can do out there on the streets.

This is how he gets his kicks on a Friday night, hustling assholes out of their hard earned cash and that’s the great thing about the poolhall, there’s always someone looking for a match. You have your regulars that play in the tournaments but you also have your newcomers, the fresh blood. They’re usually high on ego but playing low on technical skill. They’re the type to hit the ball as hard as they can to see where it goes instead of playing all the angles like Charlie does.

He’s just finishing up a game with some college kid when you put down a twenty on his table. He’s caught sight of you a couple of times tonight, doing the rounds but he’s not been able to tune into any of your games.

“You ready to stop playing these amateurs and give me a try?” You ask as you place both palms on the edge of the table and lean forward. He knows what you’re doing, trying to draw his attention to perfect curves of yours so he fucks up his shot but Charlie, he’s nothing if not goal oriented. He sinks the shot, ending the game between him and the kid.

“Sounds like you need a challenge.” He says picking up his chalk cube, smudging it across the tip of his stick. “Those boys not doing it for you?”

“Why settle for pretty boys when you can have a man instead?” You shoot back.

Christ you’ve got a mouth on you, he likes you already. His façade cracks, his own mouth tipping up into a tight lipped smirk as he huffs out a rare chuckle, meeting your eyes. “You saying I’m not pretty?”

“Handsome.” You correct him, chalking up your own cue. You use is lilac, a soft, feminine colour compared to the harshness of the blue he uses. “I think you left pretty behind long before those beautiful curls of yours turned grey.”

“What’s the difference?” He asks taking the triangle out of the cabinet end and places the pool balls inside it. “Between handsome and pretty?”

“Pretty gives the illusion of innocent. Handsome is more weathered, more experienced.” You tell him as he racks up the balls.

“You’re saying I’ve been around the block a few times.” He responds as he removes the triangle and tucks it away. He steps back and gestures for you to break.

“That’s not a bad thing.” You say as you lean over, resting the stick on the cushion before you line up your shot. “Trust me, women prefer a man who knows what he’s doing.”

His gaze lowers to the position you’re in, back straight, ass out. It causes an uncomfortable stirring in his jeans as he imagines himself behind you, his palm running up the length of your spine, his fingers tangling in your hair, tugging it. He’d enter you slowly, savouring the feel of your pussy fluttering around him as he filled you with every inch of him.

You strike the cue ball, snapping him out of his reverie, dispersing the rest of the balls across the felt. A striped one rolls into the pocket and you give him a smile that makes it feel like the 4th of July’s exploding in his chest. There’s hearts, fireworks, fucking sparklers, the whole damn show.

“Looks like I’m not the only one that knows what they’re doing.” He points out as you line up your next shot. The glow from the billiard light above illuminates your skin as you corral an errant strand of hair back behind your ear. There’s four silver piercings in it excluding the imprinted Celtic ear cuff and Chalie wants to run his thumb over every single one of them as he wonders if there’s anymore underneath your clothes.

“I paid my way through college on pool tables just like this one.” You inform him, sinking another ball. “Trust me I’m about to give you a run for your money.” You pause, glancing over your shoulder to meet Charlie’s dark eyes.  He can imagine you doing the same thing as he’s fucking you, biting that pert lower lip of yours as he teases his dick along the wet seam of your pussy. “Unless you want to play for something else?”

He cocks his head, his voice gravelly and rough as he asks. “What’s on the table?”

“That depends.” You say turning your attention back towards the game. “On what you want to do to me.”

Everything… he thinks. He wants you tangled up in his sheets, tongue thrust inside you as you come all over his face. Your thighs locked around your hips, your nails raking up his back as he fucks you so hard the neighbours bang on the wall because you just can’t help yourself, not with him. He wants you on your knees, your tongue out ready to receive him as he rubs the head of his cock all over it.

He leans in close, bending over the table so that his firm well-muscled body presses against yours. His lips brush over your ear, his warm breath ghosting in it as he speaks.

“I think I’d rather show you than tell you.” He murmurs, his palm wraps around the pool stick, jerking it. Your shot goes wide, sending the cue ball  bumping into one of his. “But we gotta put some rules because I don’t wanna play rough if that’s not something you’re into.”

“Oh baby.” You tease as he nuzzles the curve of your throat. The scent of your perfume floods his nostrils, something dark, something sensual, black cherries and amber, he thinks. It makes him want to take a bite right out of you. “Do all those other girls need chocolate and flowers before you give them a good fucking?”

“I just don’t want someone who just lays there and takes it.” He says, nipping lightly at your pulse point. “I want a partner, someone who likes to play as much as I do, who wants…”

He trails off before he betrays himself.

“…who wants you.” You finish and he buries his face into the curve of your throat, hiding the flush creeping across his cheeks. “I don’t even know your name and already my panties are soaked, that’s how much I want you.”

“Charlie.” He whispers. “My name is Charlie.”

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Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[reiderwriter]

🌞 Just Hanging Out 🌞

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female Reader

Genre: Fluff, suggestive MINORS DNI 18+

WC: 3k

Summary: To kick off your vacation, you find yourself at Rossi's mansion with your team for a big summer barbeque. A hammock in the garden catches your eye, and you enlist Reid to help you have some fun in the sun.

Warnings: reader is a tease, shy Spencer, sexual arousal (M and F) no physical smut (god I wish we still used the citrus system).

A/N: Here's my second entry to @imagining-in-the-margins CM Summer Sunshine Fic Challenge! Thanks to everyone who helped my pick the plot for this one :) I was also intending for this to be a reply to one of my requests for more BAU reader, but unfortunately tumblr deleted that request so 🤡 I'm tagging the account below anyways, and I have three more BAU reader fics coming in the next two weeks-ish, including my new series That's What You Get, so I hope you like this fic and be sure to look out for the others! Enjoy~

Here's my masterlist and my requests are open!

It was mid-August, and thankfully, the serial killers of America had given up crime for one week of the year to allow you to enjoy some much needed vacation time. The entire team had been put on annual leave, and you were determined to enjoy it to the absolute capacity of your ability.

Despite being together year-round, you actually enjoyed the company of your coworkers, so when Rossi announced he was planning a summer barbeque at his place to kick off your vacation time, you were ecstatic. If Rossi’s barbecuing skills were anything like his pasta making skills, you were expecting to eat yourself into a food coma and not wake up for the next seven days.

“Not a single one of you will touch this grill, stand within a 1 foot radius of this grill or even dare to look at this grill, so help me God, are we understood?” Rossi announced as soon as you arrived, the last of the BAU team to gather in his self-proclaimed mansion. The gardens were beautiful, and the kids were already running riot on the slip and slide that he had set up for them, screaming and giggling in delight.

“Trust me, you’re not getting me near that thing today, Rossi,” you laugh as you pour yourself a glass of wine from the refreshments table. “Last time I was anywhere near a grill I almost died.”

“I don’t remember encountering any unsubs who used grills as their weapon of choice,” JJ laughed at you as she held out her own glass and you gladly filled it for her.

“That’s because it wasn’t on a case, it was a family barbeque when I was 17 and my grandfather thought I should learn some ‘practical skills,’” you shot a grin at her as she rolled her eyes at you and walked away.

You grabbed your glass and looked for somewhere to perch yourself while you took in the sun. Morgan and Prentiss had already grabbed the two sun-loungers on the patio and were both sitting shirtless (with a bikini top on in Prentiss’s case) taking in as much sun as they could. Garcia was similarly sprawled on the deck sofa, and JJ joined her their after grabbing her refreshment, Will stood by the edge of the deck watching over the kids. Hotch had the amazing foresight to bring his own camping chair, and was set up similarly with one eye on Jack and the other on a book in his hand.

And just where you were expecting him, Spencer Reid was stood awkwardly at the edge of the house, in the only spot of shade he could find, leaning slightly against the door, and squinting into the sun.

“Rossi, you got any other chairs I can grab for me and Reid?” you called out to your host.

“There should be some over by the shed, they might need a bit of a dusting down though.”

“Come on pretty boy, you can’t just be standing all day, you’re going to make me feel tired just watching you,” you laughed up at him and caught the flush of his cheeks as he finally caught that you meant him to follow you.

“I’m really fine here over in the shade, I don’t do too great in the sun, anyways. More of an autumnal person, really…”

“I’d feel bad seeing you stand all day, and besides, what if I need a big, strong man to help me carry my chair over?” As he gaped his mouth open and closed looking for a retort, you felt the small flash of victory spread warm your chest. It wasn’t that you liked messing with Reid, it’s that he was an easy target and actually you loved it.

Having joined the team only the year prior, you’d quickly found the genius incredibly endearing, loving to listen to his little monologues about whatever topic had popped into his head that day, often earning groans from your other colleagues as you encouraged him to keep going.

You’d discovered your love of making him squirm a few months into the job, when you had to interrogate a submissive partner of an unsub together. After theorising that the submissive personality had a thing for women who looked like you, especially ones that were pretty dominant and controlling, you’d decided to give him what he wanted. You’d popped the top button, walked into the room and given him your best shot before having to re-strategize.

“What if we send Reid in there with her?” Morgan was the one to suggest, “Have him act a bit touchy, show him something he’s missing out on. We already tried giving him what he wanted, let’s see how he reacts to someone he doesn’t view as a threat getting everything he thinks he’s entitled to.”

It was a good guess, and it worked. You’d walked into the room, and let Reid start asking the questions. He’d gently laid a hand on your thigh, just high enough for the suspect to notice, and you’d done nothing but quietly whisper directly into his ear, watching the entire time to see how the man in front of you would react. He’d cracked in ten minutes and started spewing misogynistic drivel, so angry that he accidentally confessed to the crime and gave away his partner’s location.

It seemed Reid had cracked just a bit too. He’d avoided eye-contact with you for an entire week after that, and whenever he talked to you in that time, it was like his brain short-circuited. You’d bought a genius with an IQ of 187 and an eidetic memory to his knees with a few whispers in his ear, and you loved the rush of power you felt remembering it. The memory of his strong hand on your thigh did nothing to quell your growing attraction towards the man.

“If you wanted someone big and strong, you should’ve asked Morgan,” Reid snapped you out of your thoughts as he diligently followed you in the direction Rossi had pointed. It was a pretty secluded spot in the garden, a little bit away from the action and you were glad to be out of earshot so you could begin your teasing of the Good Doctor.

“I’m sure you’re big and strong in certain places, Spencer,” you smiled at him, and began looking at the chairs.

You spotted it in the corner, then, the perfect tool for your torment. It seemed relatively new, barely used but still pretty sturdy, and you knew this was it.

“Hey, Rossi, what about this hammock in the corner, can I set this up, too?” you shouted back over to the group and grinned up at Reid.

“Do you have a death wish? Because if so, go ahead and tangle with that devil.” Rossi shouted back, not even looking up from the miriad of sausages and burgers he was working on.

“That sounds like a challenge to me, Doc.” You say and you start pulling it out into the sunlight, Reid steps behind you sighing in defeat. He knew that once you had your mind set on something, you were pretty stubborn about completing it.

“Okay, can you give me a boost?” The bed of the hammock fell to about your chest height, and whilst you knew you were probably able to climb in by yourself, you were wearing a particularly short sundress, and as much as you teased Reid, you didn’t exactly want to give the rest of your team and their families an eyeful.

“You want me to try to lift you into this thing?” Reid squeaked out, a look of confusion passing over his features.

“Yeah, just grab my hips and give me a boost and I’ll swing my legs over and straddle it. Then we can see what’s it's like.” He moved cautiously up behind you, letting his hands graze your waist.

“Reid, you’re going to have to hold me a bit tighter than that if we’re actually going to get anywhere.” You placed your hands over his and pushed his grip down stronger; you could practically hear him gulp from behind you. He pushed you up, and you almost had it, but you couldn’t quite pull yourself up and into it.

After a few attempts, you realised it wasn’t going to work. Reluctantly pulling yourself out of Reid’s grip, you turned to face him.

“New plan, you get in first and pull me up.”

“What? I don’t want to go anywhere near that thing, didn’t you hear what Rossi said?”

“Come on Reid, just this once, for me? We have to try at least!” you pouted up at him now with pleading eyes, hoping that you wouldn’t have to resort to batting your eyelashes at him to get him to agree.

“One attempt, and then I’m grabbing a normal chair and leaving, okay?” He negotiated, but you didn’t care and excitedly wrapped your arms around his neck pulling him in for a hug.

“Yay, thank you! I love you, Reid, you know that?” you pulled back slightly to deliver that last line, your arms still around his neck, watching the redness spread upto his cheeks.

He mumbled a quick whatever and pulled away to begin his attempts.

Perhaps it was his few extra inches of height or spindly frame, but Reid managed to climb up quite easily, not even rocking the hammock that much in his ascent.

He sat up pretty steadily, and you lifted your arms to him, and that’s when it all started going wrong. You’re combined weight wasn’t enough to break the hammock, but it was enough to set it off into an unsteady rocking that made your stomach lurch slightly. You swung your leg as best you could over Reid’s, already in the hammock, and as soon as you found some purchase there, he lowered one hand to pull your lower body up as well.

It was just unfortunate that the place his hand landed was directly over your ass, and you let out a sharp gasp as he grabbed it tightly and hauled you up to sit directly over him, chest to chest, practically straddling his entire body in the cramped space of the hammock bed.

“Shit, I’m sorry, I meant to grab your hip.” He tried to let go of you and push his hands up where you could see them, but the sudden movement made the hammock lurch dangerously so you snapped your hand over his and forced them back to their previous position.

“No sudden movements, Spencer, I don’t particularly want to be the butt of all jokes for the next year if we fall out of this thing.” You panicked slightly and squirmed a little in your position, trying to explore your range of movement.

“How are we going to get out of this if we can’t move?” he shot back at you, a look of mild discomfort on his face, and an I-told-you-so begging to escape his lips.

“If you just give me a minute to explore our options, maybe I would be able to figure that out.”

“If you keep squirming like that we’re going to have more problems than just how to get down,” he huffed under his breath, but he was so close that it was impossible for you to miss it.

It was your turn to blush now, as you caught his insinuation. With his hand firmly on your ass, and your legs either side of his, you could feel the entire length of his body below you. Each squirm you made the dampness between your legs pool a little bit more and then you in-turn squirmed even more in a vicious cycle.

After a few minutes, there was no denying that the thing prodding your core was Spencer’s sizable… appendage.

“Shit, Y/N, I’m sorry, it’s just a natural reaction,” he groaned out from below you when he realised you could feel it too, and you’d never heard anything so beautiful as the moans he was accidentally vocalising.

“It’s my fault, I’m sorry for being so stubborn about this. Let me see if I can figure something else out,” you cautiously slid your hands up his chest, and he screwed his eyes shut. Pushing against his shoulders, you slowly pulled yourself up to a seated position, doing your best to not rock the hammock too much. The new position did nothing to dampen the friction the two of you were feeling, and you knew that you were a few seconds away from a point of no return. Your hips bucked slightly against him against your will, and you really hoped he hadn’t noticed that was totally not to the benefit of you getting out of the hammock.

You looked down to the ground so you could see how far the descent would be, and if you’d have to call for backup anytime soon. Luckily you thought you’d be able to make it if you just swung your legs over the side and got out as quickly as possible, but fate had other plans.

“Spencer, Y/N what are you two doing over here?” came Emily’s voice from behind you. Spencer’s eyes shot open and he pulled his head up slightly to look at her. However, his movement had rocked the hammock a little bit harder than before, so he had to grab your hip to steady the two of you, pushing you further down into him. You did your best to stifle the moan, biting down hard on your tongue as you did so.

“Oh you know, just hanging out,” he managed to get out in reply, his voice notably higher than it usually was.

“You sure you guys don’t need any help? That doesn’t look like the safest of chairs.” Emily’s questioning stare never lifted and you knew that if she caught wind of what was actually going on, you wouldn’t be able to look her in the eye for an entire year. You couldn’t accept the help.

“Yeah, we were just going to climb down in a second, we’re just checking to see how… sturdy it is right now.”

“Sturdy. Right. Well, Rossi said the food would be ready to start serving in a few minutes and asked me to call you guys over.”

“We’ll be right there, thanks Emily.” You smiled at her and she made to walk away, a suspicious look still on her face.

“What do you mean we’ll be right there, I can’t go over there like this!” Spencer whisper yelled into your ears.

“What else was I supposed to say to get her to go away,” you whisper yelled back. You ran a free hand through your hair, and shifted again, your legs beginning to cramp up a little in the awkward position.

“Okay you get down, I’ll make a break for the bathroom, say all this moving around made me need to pee or something, and then we meet up again on the patio and pretend this never happened?” he said and you nodded quickly.

You began to lift your body weight up and remove your legs from the tangle you were stuck in, and that’s when the hammock reared it’s ugly head for the final time. As you lifted your leg slowly, you accidedntally got your foot stuck in the side of the fabric, and pinned there but still moving, the hammock toppled and spat both of you out unceremoniously.

Reid landed ontop of you with a hard thud. You let out a sweet curse, just as Reid pushed his body weight onto his hands, taking some of the pressure off of you after the fall. You stared up into his eyes as you realised you’d found yourself in yet another compromising situation and you deepeded to a scarlet red as you realised your sundress had blown up completely in your descent, and he was now neatly nestled in between your legs, with your damp underwear on display for him.

Looking down at you, he took a beat too long to react, and you squirmed under his gaze, feeling appropriately trapped, before he sprung up and offered you a hand up.

You took his hand and rearranged your dress, thankful that the smell of the food had distracted everyone from your embarrassing fall.

“Okay, we’re out.” You were flustered and you didn’t know what else to say.

“Yep, that was certainly one way to do it,” Reid replied, as you avoided his gaze. You wrapped your arms around yourself, and he made to do so similarly, trying his best to rearrange himself so the bulge in his pants wasn’t so noticeable.

“You should get to the bathroom.”

“You should get to the food.” He retorted and you finally made to move, but stopped yourself turning around quickly to face the man again.

“Before I go,” you said and you pushed yourself up on your tiptoes and pressed a kiss into his mouth, feeling as giddy as a teenager braving her first kiss. You turned away just as fast and made your way back to the party, leaving a flustered and spluttering Reid behind as you made a beeline for the food.

“So, what’d you think of the hammock?” Rossi asked you as you began loading your plate up. You put on your best poker face and begged noone had noticed anything out of the ordinary.

“You were right. That thing is dangerous,” was your only response, and you retreated into the corner to finish your food. You sat there waiting eagerly for Reid to return, not just so you could be in his presence again and see how he was reacting to your kiss, but also so you could get the image of him dealing with his situation out of your mind.

It seemed that being a tease and working him up hadn’t quite ended so well for you that day.

You blamed the hammock.

---------------------------------------------------

🏷️ @marylovesevanpeters @bethanyhaas01 @reidscaffeine @average-sunflower @multifandom-on-the-side @anniewhalelover @prentissesredtanktop @abbyshmaby @hugyourlungs @w-windy @babybluecakes @reidandhotchsgirl @lover-of-books-and-tea @bluecandycake @star0055 @Zaapsite @daddy-dotcom @reidmym1nd @oureternalbond @fandomscombine @isabel-ffl-xoxo @sujan39 @frxcless @bluestuesday @busy-buzzing @breadbrobin @maxinehufflepuffprincess @l0v3cam @booksandwonderlands @myescapefromthislife @kat453 @ferrjulie @scoobydoopoo @aelinismyqueen @littlesingingbean @xohoneybun @anchovy89freya @simp4f1 @fandomscombine @ssa-spencerhotch @spidermonkey2423

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[aphroditelovesu]

⸻ The Lost Queen - XI ⸻

— summary: You woke up near a military camp without remembering how and why you got there, you didn’t understand why they were dressed like ancient Greeks, all you knew was that you weren’t safe and you needed to get out of that place as soon as possible. Too bad for you that you found yourself attracting unwanted attention from the Macedonian King and he won’t let you go so easily.

— genre: yandere, dark!au.

— warnings: time travel, obsessive and possessive behavior, murder, mention of torture, kidnapping, angst, fluffy (very rarely), dub-con, eventual smut, pregnancy.

— pairing: yandere!alexander the great x female!reader, yandere!generals x female!reader.

— word count: 2,268.

— tag list: @devils-blackrose, @faerykingdom, @hadesnewpersephone, @mariaelizabeth21-blog1 , @kadu-5607, @zoleea-exultant, @borntoexplore11-blog, @silmawensgarden, @elvinapandra, @jennifer0305 , @his0kaswife, @animetye-23.

— the lost queen series masterlist.

Chapter 11

In agitated and pulsating Babylon, life flowed incessantly, without pause for rest. Its inhabitants were driven by an inexhaustible energy, immersed in different activities that filled their days. Under a sky permeated with seduction, the city exuded an irresistible charm, conquering all who dared to cross its limits. And in the midst of this frenzy, the Hanging Gardens stood majestically, silent witnesses to the magnificence and beauty of the city.

The city's famous Hanging Gardens not only added beauty to the urban scenery, but also aroused admiration in everyone who looked at them. It was said that it was one of the Seven Wonders and that it should be worshiped.

The story of the Hanging Gardens of Babylon was even more fascinating.

A long time ago, in ancient Babylon, the powerful king Nebuchadnezzar II reigned. He ruled firmly, but also had a sensitive heart for the beauty and well-being of his people. However, his wife, Queen Amytis, felt a deep nostalgia for her homeland, the lush mountainous region of Persia, where gardens were abundant.

To gladden the queen's heart and create a grand gift, King Nebuchadnezzar II ordered the construction of the Hanging Gardens of Babylon. Built into a magnificent structure of raised terraces, these gardens were designed to recreate the exuberance and serenity of Persian gardens amidst the hustle and bustle of the city.

The architects and engineers worked tirelessly, bringing to life a true verdant paradise in the heart of Babylon. Using an intricate network of water channels and irrigation systems, they managed to flow water from the depths of the Euphrates River to the highest terraces, nourishing the exotic plants and leafy trees.

When the Hanging Gardens were finally completed, they became a breathtaking spectacle for all who beheld them. The terraces were adorned with a dazzling array of fragrant flowers, fruit trees and lush greenery, creating a haven of peace and beauty for their beloved Queen.

It was a beautiful city, with a rich and vivid history. It would be a shame if the city fell into the hands of the savage Macedonians. The Persians believed that if the city fell into enemy hands, then the entire Empire would be doomed.

Darius knew this, he was more aware that if something happened to the city, everything would be lost. His defeat in the last battle had already been crushing, he could not be defeated again.

The Persian King sighed, frustrated and sat down on the chair in front of the table full of maps. He poured some wine into his glass and drank it, rubbing his temples irritably. He would have to do something quickly about this or risk losing everything.

The tent flap was opened and Darius frowned when he saw his detestable relative, Bessus. The man smiled mischievously and approached his King.

"You look terrible." Bessus commented, as he took a seat in front of Darius and grabbed some wine for himself.

Darius didn't respond, just drank his wine.

One side of Bessus' mouth quirked up and he chuckled, "You look tense."

"I am tense." Darius grumbled, adjusting his posture. He could never show himself weak in front of this relative of his.

"I can see that," Bessus murmured, stroking his black beard, "Maybe you need some good news."

Darius looked up and looked at Bessus, curious.

"Ah, have I piqued your interest?" Bessus laughed.

"Say it at once."

Bessus placed the glass on the table and smiled like a predator, "Our friend, Alexander, recently got married."

Darius raised his eyebrow, clearly interested in where this conversation was going.

"A certain (Y/N), from what the spies told me."

(Y/N)? It was a different name, one he didn't remember ever hearing.

"And who would this be (Y/N)?" Darius asked, placing the glass on the table.

"Someone who can be useful to us." Bessus licked his lips, as if savoring the idea. Darius stopped himself from shuddering.

"And how could she be useful? She's just his wife."

"That's why, my King. She's his wife and from what I've heard, he seems to care a lot about her. I've heard rumors that he almost killed his own General because of her."

Darius thought. Maybe she could be of help after all. If Alexander really cared so much about her, there would be an advantage.

"And from what my spies are saying, she could be pregnant." Bessus said, rubbing his hands together.

"And what do you suggest I do with this information?"

Bessus laughed darkly, "Bring her to us, Darius. I have spies ready to infiltrate the Macedonian camp, one word from you and she will be brought to us."

Darius didn't like the idea of kidnapping a pregnant woman, but these were desperate times. He could not suffer another humiliating defeat to Alexander. These were war times, after all. And all is fair in war.

Darius nodded hesitantly, "Do it."

Bessus smiled widely and stood up, turning his back to Darius.

"Bessus," Darius called in a serious, lethal voice, "Don't hurt her."

Bessus nodded, "I won't."

As Bessus exited his tent, Darius sighed loudly. He wasn't sure what he had ordered, but he knew it was too late to reverse it. He could not show weakness in front of his soldiers. Not now.

He needed to relax and so he called a name, "Bagoas."

Darius didn't even blink when the eunuch appeared in front of him and began to remove his overcoat. He needed this to clear his mind about what he was about to do.

The women looked terrified.

You felt sorry for the Persian women, the captives. It was obvious what would happen to them and you felt sick to your stomach just thinking about their possible fate. Although Alexander had prohibited rape, it was inevitable.

You would have to talk to him about it. It was unacceptable and since you were the Queen, you would have something to say about it.

You watched the Persian royal family carefully. After Darius's defeat at the Battle of Issus, he left his mother, wife and daughters behind. You already knew this story and couldn't help but be curious as you watched the women.

You were next to Hephaestion and Alexander, who were also watching the women carefully. At least these wouldn't suffer a bad fate.

Not now, at least.

The oldest of the women, who you immediately recognized as Sisygambis, the mother of Darius, approached Hephaestion and fell at his feet, prostrating herself and begging for mercy.

You bit back a laugh when you saw how Hephaestion's eyes widened in surprise.

"Please, Grand King, I ask that you spare my granddaughters..." The woman muttered, as she still had her face lowered in her hands on the floor of the tent. Hephaestion muttered something under his breath and looked desperately at Alexander.

Sisygambis turned pale when she realized her mistake, fearing that she had offended the King by mistaking him for a mere general.

Alexander decided to say something, "Don't worry, mother. He's also Alexander."

You held back a laugh when you heard the well-known words of Alexander the Great. It was like watching a movie in first person.

Alexander turned to you, "And here is my wife and Queen, (Y/N)."

You blushed a little at being called that. It was still strange and you were sure it would take a while to get used to being called that.

Straightening your posture, you smiled gently at the women, who watched you carefully. With a calm and serene tone of voice, you greeted them, ''It's a pleasure and an honor to meet you.''

Sisygambis smiled and nodded at her granddaughters, who bowed at you.

You waved your hands, "No, no. Don't worry about it, it's not necessary."

They seemed a little disoriented and confused, but they respected your request. Alexander seemed satisfied and began talking to the women.

You didn't pay much attention when you felt a wave of nausea. You bottled it up and held firm, but you knew full well what that could mean.

After your wedding night a few weeks ago, you continued to share a bed with Alexander a few times and, obviously, there were no contraceptives available and a very high chance of you being pregnant was plaguing you.

You didn't know what you were supposed to think about this. Having children had never been a goal of yours, sure, you had thought about it before, but the idea of actually expecting was scary.

You considered yourself too young to be a mother and the current scenario definitely didn't help. By the gods, you were more than two thousand years in the past, married to one of the greatest conquerors in history and possibly pregnant.

It all seemed like a very bad joke.

And there are still conflicts to be resolved. Cleitus had recovered well and an understanding between him and Alexander was made, it seems, the General forgave Alexander for trying to kill him and everything would return to normal between them. There was tension between the generals over this, but it seemed like everything would be fine.

Thanks to Hephaestion's diplomatic skills.

And there was the matter of Perdiccas.

You sighed just thinking about him. You hadn't spoken in weeks, he seemed determined to ignore you and you'd be lying if you said it didn't hurt you. You had felt something for him, but it seemed to become less and less the further away you were.

You missed him. He was one of the first, no, the first to be kind to you and someone you thought could become a friend, an ally.

But now he avoided you like the Devil avoided the Cross. When you were forced to be in the same room, he would remain silent and avoid your eyes. And when you spoke to him, he only spoke short, sharp words.

There was no longer that warmth, that kindness that you shared before.

You missed him. A lot.

But that was his choice and you would have to live with it. If he wanted to pretend that nothing ever happened between you, that you were mere acquaintances, you would do it. He could be stubborn, but you were more so.

And you couldn't put yourself at risk, not now when there was a chance you could be pregnant. This was for yourself and for this possible child.

You closed your eyes and pressed your hand over your stomach. Fearing for the uncertain future.

Perdiccas knew this was treason.

He was very aware that what he was doing could lead to him being sentenced to death. He knew it but he didn't care.

It was a crime of treason, a serious betrayal against his King, against his childhood friend and his beloved Macedonia.

But he didn't care. Something inside him just exploded on your wedding day and he knew there was nothing he could do to destroy that uncomfortable feeling.

He was jealous and angry. Jealous that Alexander had you in every way and angry with you and himself. Anger at you because you didn't choose to run away with him and at himself for not insisting.

But he was hurt, feeling betrayed. Perdiccas thought you liked him, maybe you could even be falling in love with him, but you chose Alexander over him.

And he hated you for it.

He loved you, Perdiccas knew he loved you. You awakened feelings he had never felt before for anyone and he wanted you. He wanted you just for himself, he wanted to be able to love you and adore you like the Queen you were.

You could have been happy together, just the two of you and with children in the future. Perdiccas could envision a happy future with you. You playing with his children while he watched.

You could have had a life next to each other.

But you chose to throw it all away and Perdiccas wouldn't allow it.

You would be his, one way or another.

These words repeated in the General's mind as he stealthily approached your tent with Persian spies at his side.

The camp was dark and strangely silent. Even the swashbuckling soldiers were silent.

Alexander would not share his tent today, he had much work to do with Hephaestion and Ptolemy.

It would be the perfect opportunity.

He waved his hand and the spies quickly knocked out two guards who were assigned to protect you.

Perdiccas was sure you would be asleep at this time. With silent steps, he lifted the flap of the tent and entered it, moving silently inside to where your cot was located.

He smiled like a fool in love when he saw you, asleep. You were covered by a thin blanket and your sleep seemed restless. He looked at the Persian spies and nodded.

It was now.

One of the spies approached you with a piece of fabric in his hand that had some kind of poison on it that would keep you asleep for as long as necessary.

When the cloth was placed under your nose, you woke up with a start and tried to scream, but the spy covered your mouth and pressed the cloth harder against your nose. Eventually, you stopped struggling and your eyes grew heavy, until they closed.

Perdiccas approached you and picked you up carefully. He smiled widely when he glimpsed your beauty.

Now was the time to finally have you for himself.

— lady l: WE'RE BACK, BABY! I know it took me a while to get back to this fanfic and I apologize for that. But we're back and the updates will continue as before! I hope you enjoyed this chapter and… Well, what happens now? I leave the doubt in the air… See you soon!