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tiredmamaissy · 1 year

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Ralak te Sepwan ieyk’itan: Chapter Four

An Illustrated Collaboration with @zestys-stuff

Masterlist ; Rut/Heat/Knotting Info

🔞 minors, do not interact 🔞

Hyperlinks are attached to specific paragraphs that when clicked on will lead you to its illustration by Ralak's creator @zestys-stuff.

Characters: Metkayina!Ralak (24) x Sully!Omaticaya!Reader (19)

Warnings: nsfw, smut, fluff, angst, profanity, age gap, sexual tension, size difference/kink, praise kink, fingering, alcohol consumption/drunk character, mating, oral sex (both receiving), p in v, virginity loss, blood, marking/biting, let me know if i forgot anything?

Word Count: 15k (i think, i dont even know at this point)

Requested: Yes || No

Author’s Note: Guys, I'm so sorry this one took so long. I hope it's worth the wait. I tried to proofread this but the app keeps crashing and I lost my progress thrice. So forgive me for any typos and errors. I'll probably go through it with fresh eyes tomorrow and fix them. Enjoy 🤍🤍

Synopsis: Your family seeks uturu with the Metkayina in the village of Awa’atlu. You have a difficult time adjusting, and are assigned your own special teacher, Ralak.

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“Not today, tahni. I must get you back, now.”

----

You protest, not wanting to go back to the prison with your less-than-understanding father and his two soldiers keeping an eye on your every move. You try to convince Ralak to have a conversation with your father, but he insists that won’t do anything. Jake is a man of action, and he would need to prove himself to Toruk Makto – prove that he is worthy of mating with his daughter.

To do things ‘the right way’.

All it took for you to behave was him grabbing your hand, pressing it against his warm, half-hard cock while he looks you dead in the eye.

“Tame Tsurak. And this is yours to do whatever you please with.”

“Oh?” Your lips pucker as you husk the word, brow raising in astonishment.

Of course, Ralak would turn this into a lesson of some sort, saying something along the lines of you being a fast learner and would only need a day to learn. It was laughable really – him saying that you need a week to learn the sign language of his people but less than a day to tame a skimwing.

He clicks for his swimwing, watching as it glides quickly through the water towards him. He takes a few steps back, making space for the large creature to come to a standstill. Ralak approaches it cautiously and respectfully, hand reaching behind him to grip and stroke the length of his kuru.

You’re only now just getting a good look at his kuru, it’s much longer than yours given the stature of this man. His tendrils are a deep pink, very composed and calm, much like Ralak himself. They dance slowly, sporadic movements gaining direction once they sense the kuru of the Tsurak in proximity.

“Bond carefully. Tsurak are not like ilu.” Ralak says, pupils constricting momentarily as the tendrils slowly entwine with one another, making tsaheylu with the scaley, large beast. It shivers vigorously as their breaths synchronize, two beasts becoming one. Ralak takes a sharp breath before swinging his leg over the creature, settling himself graciously on its back. “They deem if the rider is worthy.”

“Oh. I see...” You nod slowly, nerves fraying from the thought of not being worthy enough to tame one.

Ralak motions you to mount the Tsruak, patting it’s back behind him. “Come.” He holds your hand, helping you on before wrapping your arms around his waist. “Hold tight.”

With that, you’re off. The beast glides easily, and slowly through the water, never going underneath. Ralak spends the ride teaching you about the techniques to apply when bonding, mounting, and riding a skimwing. Even how to hold the harness properly, so you’re not pulled off by a water drag.

“Most important. When you dive back in, maintain a good position.” He rambles, demonstrating the diving movement with his hand, fingers pointing downwards.

You listen, but you’re focus is primarily on the way his waist feels in your arms. You savour the sensation, feelings of self-doubt making you think that this may be the last time you’ll touch Ralak in this way. You rest your face into the dip of his back, ear pressed into his skin as you listen to the thump of his heart.

The words echo in your head. “...to do whatever you please with.”

You could do this. You can do this. You’ll do it for him. For your mate.

Ralak slows to a halt a far distance away from your family marui pod, exchanging glares with your two older brothers. Though they were younger than Ralak, he still treats them as equals, respectfully signing ‘I see you’ to them both. Reluctantly, they return the gesture, maintaining their downward glare to the giant. Neteyam stands tall, chest puffed out to appear bigger, whilst Lo’ak’s arms are crossed over his chest, shifting his bodyweight from one leg to the other.

You scoff. Two idiots doing their idiot thing.

“We will meet again, my love.” You whisper, planting a kiss on his back before dismounting the creature to swim around to the mangrove roots.

“My tanhi.” He hums lowly, watching you swim away and climb up the root to the backside of the marui pod. He turns around, diving under the water to leave before your father’s arrival. Your brothers help you up, pushing you inside the pod by a hand on your back.

“You smell even worse.” Neteyam makes the snarky remark whilst grimacing, turning his head away from you.

“Yeah. He’s not joking, sis.” Lo’ak adds with a chuckle, leaning in to get a better whiff. He pulls back dramatically, letting out a loud ‘whoof’ as he turns his head away too.

“Ha-Ha.” You say, imitating the sound of a laugh. “Thanks guys.” You mutter sarcastically, although you really did owe them.

The sound of your father flipping back the flap of the marui averts your attention to the door. All three of you stand in formation, acknowledging the former marine’s presence. He walks past you, lips pursing into a thin line once your scent wafts past him.

“Jeez, y/n. Ya need to take a bath or something. Preferably before tomorrow ‘cause that’s when training with Tsireya starts.” He shifts his glare to his sons, patting them both on the back as he praises them for doing a good job watching you. Another scoff bubbles up your throat, prompting you to roll your eyes and find refuge behind your privacy curtain.

----

Swish. The sound of your privacy curtain being yanked aside, allowing slivers of the first rays of sunlight to shine against your cheek.

“Get up, kid. Time for your lesson with Tsireya.” Jake’s voice beats against your eardrums.

Are you fucking kidding me?

Never have you had a lesson this early. Nor have you had someone wake you up for one. And how many times did you have to speak to your father about privacy? That’s why you sat down for a week straight making these curtains. And by the way everyone keeps yanking and tugging at it, you’ll have to make another sooner than planned. You lift your head groggily, rubbing your right eye with the ball of your palm. Groans of irritation rumble up your throat as you roll over onto your side to ignore your father.

“Hey. Don’t make me come over there.” He jesters, hoping to lighten the mood.

It only makes things worse. How could he joke after locking you away and having his two watchdogs guard over you? He’s taking away the one good thing for you in this wet-land and thinks a joke will make things better?

“Leave. I’ll come out soon.” You mumble into your pillow.

Jakes brows lower in defiance for a moment, and relax when he realises that you’re just hurting. Regardless, this is what he thinks is best for you. You were still his ‘babygirl’. He takes a few steps back before turning around to walk out of the marui. Once you hear his footsteps die out, you rise from your cot and get ready for the day.

----

“Wow, y/n. You have improved so much since I last taught you!” Tsireya exclaims, surprised by your skilful movements.

“Yeah. Ralak was a good teacher.” You smile, tugging the fishnet towards you. Your lips flatten into a line when you realise how that sounds. “Not saying that you weren’t or anything.” You add quickly, staring wide eyed at Tsireya.

“It is okay.” She giggles, two dainty fingers covering her lips.

“Yeah. There’s just something about him. He’s… different.” You smile once more, slowly wrapping the fishnet around on itself, “A good different!”

“I know Ralak, y/n. He is... like a brother to me. Although we don’t talk very much...” Tsireya says, swimming towards the spears on the shore. “I am surprised you two got along for this long.”

Your brows twitch. Brother? What did she mean by that? What does she think even happened?

“I’m going to mate with him.” You blurt out, earning an astonished expression from Tsireya. “When I pass my iknimaya, of course.” You say, knowing that’s not what she’s concerned about.

“You two got along that well?” She questions, reaching for the spears.

“You could say that we confessed to each other in the heat of the moment” You mumble as you work your way to sit on the shore.

“So, why am I teaching you?” Her movements come to halt, inquisitive gaze flicking down at you.

“Dad found out. He is forbidding me from seeing him because I haven’t passed my iknimaya yet.” You twirl a strand of wet loose hair around your pointer finger, “He didn’t even care to ask about the situation. Or if I even need lessons anymore.” You shake your head, watching the hair unravel from your finger.

“I see. I think you two would be good for each other.” She shrugs, staring at the spears for a moment before throwing them back into the sand. She looks at you and smiles, “Has he taught you about our dances?”

Gaze snapping up to hers, a smile stretches your lips as your brows raise in fascination. “Dances?”

Tsireya offers her hand, and you take it, letting her help you up. “Mhm. Our way of dancing. It is very... sensual. It is said that eywa speaks through the soundwaves of the music.” She walks you over to a clearing near the shore.

Apparently, the musical instruments are sacred, some parts of it harvested from the spirit tree. And when they are played, the way of Eywa can be felt by those that listen, expressed in bodily movement – dancing. It’s movements manifest erotically, acting as a mating ritual.

It draws in the fated or desired mates of those that partake in the ritual, driving them to find one another and dance together.

“Teach me.”

----

The days go by slowly as Tsireya shows you the sinuous movements of the Metkayina. She explains that it is much like the way of water, gliding and flowing freely with the music. One must allow the music to flow through the body in waves, to slip into a trance like state for your body to sway with the rhythm.

It takes you about a week to learn all the movements. It posed to be an even more difficult task without the music, and just Tsireya’s humming. Of course, this music is only only played on the night of an iknimaya celebration.

Tomorrow is your iknimaya, and Tsireya decides it’s best to run through a few pointers on taming a tsurak. Taming one is not something you practice doing, not like an ilu. You attempt it, and if denied, it is because you have much more to learn. You may try again after further training.

“Your grip is the most important thing. Once it loosens, it is ove –”

“Girls.” The olo’eyktan’s voice booms above you, averting your attention to the three casted shadows on the shore. Your eyes trail up the silhouettes to see Tonowari, your father, and... Ralak. Your heartbeat quickens, body heating up from sensing its desired mate in proximity. You try to play it off, looking down at your knees buried in the sand.

“Father.” Tsireya shuffles to her feet, signing ‘I see you’ to the three men, acknowledging their presence.

You follow slowly after her, eyes now locked onto your feet. “I see you.” You gesture, finally lifting your gaze up to the three men.

Ralak’s brows twitch as his cold eyes trail up your body, doing their best mask his excitement from seeing you. You look beautiful – dressed in clothing native to his people, pearls embellishing your top and a string of shells sewn to the band of your tewng [loincloth]. Braided hair with bright red flowers twisted into it, his chest tightens from seeing you like this.

This is the first time you’ve seen him in a week. He looks... dishevelled. Nothing like he usually looks. Hollow eyes, body enveloped with bruises and scabbed over wounds, you can sense the fracture in his spirit. He looks so, so worn. A heated wrath simmers your blood, making you red in the face.

What have they done to you, my love? You ask him through concerned eyes, breaking your stare to seethe at Tonowari.

Jake could see the upset on your face, lips pursing into a thin line as he squints his eyes, telling you to drop the attitude. But you were vexed with him too. Did he really think you’d be an obedient little soldier? You scoff at the thought, rolling your eyes to land them back onto Ralak, who is also giving you a look.

Now that’s different.

All it takes is a quick raise of his brows and a slight shake of his head to quell your attitude. You huff a small sigh of defeat and drop your irate stare to your feet once more, holding your tongue. You wanted nothing more than to lash out at Tonowari, despite him being the olo’eytan. But you understand that this would only make matters worse.

Jake witnesses this, feeling a little embarrassed about your blatant disregard for his order and not Ralak’s. But he can’t ignore the smidge of respect he’s feeling towards him right now. To be able to handle your rebellious attitude with a simple shake of his head is impressive.

“Iknimaya is tomorrow.” Tonowari speaks, eyes drifting towards the discarded spears.

He’s clearly speaking to you, but you’re too caught up in your own head to even hear him.

“Yes, father. I am confident that she is ready.” Tsireya answers quickly, using her tail to nudge the back of your leg.

“Yes – yes sir. Your daughter taught me well.” You say a little too composed, avoiding eye contact all together.

“Good. We will be on our way then.” Tonowari nods, turning his heel to leave.

Jake follows behind him, throwing one last glare in your direction, whilst Ralak lingers for a second or two. He does one last scan of your body, before locking eyes with you. A soft smile pulls at his lips as he slowly retreats.

It’s like all the negativity bubbling in your being washes away in an instant, leaving you standing there with a dumb smile on your face. He spins around, walking nonchalantly behind the two olo’eyktans, arms tucked behind his back.

“Did he just – smile?” Tsireya asks, a little dumbfounded.

“Mhm.” You hum, smile only growing wider.

----

That night you walked home beaming, smile plastered on your face with your ears flickering wildly. It had been so long since you’d last seen him that it was so uplifting to see that sweet, sweet smile again. You haven’t felt this happy since Jake separated you two, and honestly you couldn’t bring yourself to go home and see him.

Despite your strict curfew, you find yourself alone sitting in the wet sand, watching the sun set, bright hues of red and orange lighting up the sky. You bring your knees to your chest and rest your cheek between them, thinking about tomorrow.

What if I can’t do it? You sigh, feelings of self-doubt crashing in like the waves at your feet.

“Y/n.” Jake’s voice booms behind you.

Of-fucking-course you’re going to come find me.

“What?” You mumble into your knees.

Jake’s purses his lips before letting out a small sigh, shoulders relaxing as he seats himself beside you. “Feelin’ ready for tomorrow? Not nervous, are ya?”

“Ha. Yeah. I had the best teacher in Awa’atlu.”

“Babygirl.” His voice softens as he tries to look you directly in the face. The fact that it’s been over a week, and you’re still upset tells him that he’s really hurt you.

“Not your baby anymore.” You mutter under your breath, turning your head to look the other way.

“Yes, you are... ‘nd you always will be. Even when you have your own.” He speaks gently, resting his hand on your upper back.

You shrug him off, causing his hand to retreat entirely. He reflects for a moment, on how his actions have made you feel. Has he been too harsh on you? Was the ‘tough love’ act too much? The rift that’s he’s driven between the two of you is just too thick and he must remedy it.

“Look. I’m – I’m just tryna look out for you.”

“Excuse me?” You lift your head up and look at him with an expression of disbelief. "Look out for me? Or coddle me? Cut the shit, dad. I know you’re trying to keep me from him.”

"Language!" Jake hisses, “And I am looking out for you, whether you wanna believe it or not.”

“So what? How far are you gonna go to keep me from him? Gonna make us move again? Fresh start, somewhere else?”

Jakes voice is low now, a dangerous growl as he grows frustrated with your venomous words. “Everything I do is to protect you kids. Your safety is everything to me, y/n. I just want what’s best for you.”

"Ralak is what is best for me. He's good to me. Patient with me." You croak, lump forming in your throat. "And - I love him, dad."

Jake quickly stands, letting out a scoff. "No. You don't. You barely know the guy!”

"I do. I know him more than anybody. He's a gentleman–”

“Y/n” He starts, “We’ve only been here for a few months. He’s your teacher. There’s plenty of fish in the sea. Why are you settling for the first one you meet?”

“Dad, just – stop! He’s a good person. And when I tame tsurak tomorrow... I will choose him.” Your voice fades away as you utter the last four words, heated tears rolling down your cheeks.

“Yeah. If you tame it. I didn’t even tame it myself the first try. You really think you can?” Jake spits, growing frustrated with your defiant attitude.

Ouch. You didn’t even have the words to respond to that. Your own father taking a jab at your competency, knowing it’s one of your biggest insecurities. And to instil is own personal doubt into you is on another level of petty.

And just like that, the rift grows wider.

Your bottom lip quivers, revealing the small dimples in your chin. You stare up at him glossy eyed, tears welling up so much you could almost see the way it makes your eyes glisten. His gaze softens, as if he were just hit square in the jaw with words he just uttered to you.

“Y/n, I’m s –”

You shake your head in disbelief, brows gathering so tightly it hurt. You walk past him, shoving him with your shoulder as you make your way towards your marui. You can hear him calling after you, hollering whatever things first popped up in his head that could possibly make it right.

“Babygirl, please! You know I didn’t mean it like that. Just try to see where I’m coming from!”

But you ignore him and keep it going. Slumping into your bed, you lay your head on your pillow and close your swollen, wet eyes in hopes to get some rest for your big day tomorrow. The day that would change it all.

The day of your iknimaya.

----

It wasn’t only your iknimaya today.

Much like when you tamed your ikran, you stand in a line of other younger na’vi, who have been waiting patiently for their chance to prove themselves. Eager and excited to earn their place in the clan and mate with another.

They all speak amongst themselves, whispering harshly and huddling together to hear one another. They’re discussing pointers, reviewing techniques, and sharing tips they’ve learned from the more experienced warriors. It’s a bit annoying, in all honestly. They all seemed to have a completely different motive from you. An intrinsic one.

Whereas your motivation is standing in waist deep in the water, effortlessly holding the thrashing, winged beast in place. His hands grip the harness tightly, whilst Tonowari and another warrior secures the mid and hind section of the skimwing.

You watch as the other young na’vi attempt to tame the tsurak before you. Some pass, some fail, tsurak swimming with such force that it leaves the rider disoriented. Some even begged for another chance, while others accepted their defeat with a tail between their legs.

It makes you nervous. And the more you stand and stare at the thick skinned creature, the more is registers how big it actually is. It’s enormous – the length of six na’vi. Yet Ralak holds it down firmly, arms growing veiny from the sheer grip he has on it. It writhes beneath him, prompting him to restrain the beast even further.

You’d never seen Ralak ‘in action’ before. To you, he’s this big, soft giant, patiently tolerating your less than composed attitude. A man with simple goals, and simple desires. Not this strong, war machine he has been turned into. But you can’t ignore how seeing him like this makes you feel.

A strong and competent man.

But the more the creature thrashes around in his grip, the more your shot nerves fray. Just as you feel the nerves creep their way up into your chest, tightening it with no mercy, Ralak locks eyes with you. A stoic expression, with eyes that said so much. Ocean blue eyes, telling you ‘I’m right here. You can do it. Do it for me. For my big coc-’.

“You got this, kid. I mean – y/n.” Jake’s sudden voice interrupts your... train of thought.

If you hadn’t just been eye-fucking the man he’s keeping you away from you would’ve probably warmed up to his... attempt to make things right.

You let out a loud scoff and roll your eyes before diving into the water. Your fingers pierce the surface of the water, slender body moving through the water quickly and making the lap in one breath.

Turning your head, you quickly realise why they had you so far up in the mangroves. It was a test. A breath test. But what confirmed your suspicion is the look at your fathers’ face. An expression of surprise – shocked to see you even swim much less hold your breath for the entire lap.

Did he really have that little faith in you? You shake your head in disbelief, landing your stare on the spectators – the olo’eyktans’ family and other superior hunters and warriors. All of which stood high up in the mangroves, observing your every move.

How intimidating.

You exhale slowly, hoping to steady your galloping heart, but your efforts are to no avail. It feels as if its leaping from your chest the more you near the writhing, restless beast. And the closer you get, the louder its low, deep rumbling grows.

You’re about chest-deep in the water now, bouncing on the tips of toes as you inch closer and get a better look. You scan its entire body, starting at the white caudal fin, up to its furled wings and long snout – which houses at least a hundred jutting-out, needlelike teeth. Overall, its menacing demeanour makes your stomach sink.

Shit. Can I really do this? You think, shaky hand reaching behind you for your kuru as you continue to study the beast’s tough exterior.

“Y/n.” Tonowari saying your name snaps your eyes up to him smiling down at you. “Make the bond.” He gestures over to Ralak, who’s holding tsurak’s kuru in one hand, and the harness in the other.

He can tell from your body language and the glint in your eye that you’re nervous and having doubts. It’s the way you gnaw at your bottom lip, just like you did whenever you were getting frustrated during your lessons.

You settle yourself beside him, feeling his warmth radiate off his body onto yours. It’s been so long since you’ve been this close to each other. You’re not even touching, yet it feels so good. So right. You allow yourself to sway with the current of the water so that your shoulder brushes against his arm, sending your freckles flickering in broad daylight.

His chin remains tucked into his chest, arm extended towards you with the beasts’ kuru in hand. “Remember what I said.” He mutters under his breath, low enough for only you to hear.

You glance up at him briefly, trying your best to recall what he’s said to you about tsuraks. Your brows pinch in ponder as your pink tendrils dance wildly when they near the creature’s kuru. Was it something about the bond? Or was it how to grip the harness?

Ralak leans in, pretending to bring the kuru closer to your short stature. “yours to do whatever you please with.”

Oh. That.

You recall when he pressed your hand against his half-hard cock and told you it was all yours if you tamed tsurak. Just thinking about how warm it felt in your hand ebbs away the fear you’ve harboured in your chest, replacing it with a new feeling of determination.

Trying to withhold the smile creeping up on your face, you watch as your tendrils intertwine with the tsuraks’, kurus bonding together with a quick pull. A shiver runs through the creature as it snarls and growls, and your pupils dilate and constrict, breath hiccupping as you sync together.

You can feel it’s strength – it’s prowess. The way it breathes under and out of water. The way its left wing is injured from the na’vi that kicked it when tumbling off. The frustration brewing in its stomach. The exhaustion he’s feeling.

Instinctually, your hand caresses the length of his slippery snout, razor sharp teeth grazing your darker blue skin. “tam tam, tam tam [calm; there there]” You coo quietly, sliding your hand up his snout to grip the harness tightly. To your surprise, he settles immediately, sensing your empathy towards his state.

A sense of mutual respect.

Taking this as your signal to mount him, you hoist yourself up onto his back, being extra careful not to touch his wing. You find yourself struggling, being so far out at this height was only another obstacle in your way. Without warning the tsurak sinks into the water, lowering itself for you to haul your leg over its back.

“Irayo [thank you].” You whisper through a smile, settling yourself comfortably on the woven saddle.

Finally lifting your head up, you’re met with the stare of two surprised men, and one proud man. Ralak has this smug look on his face, like he knew all along that you would be able to make the bond in this way. And that – that’s just what you needed.

The three men let go of the beast, backing away with their hands in the air, allowing you space to ride. You tighten your grip one last time – something you recall being the most important thing, and think, go.

The tsurak takes off at full speed, caudal fin swishing from side to side, providing thrust to propel you forward. The sheer force of his jerky movements has your grip loosening already, audible swoosh of his tail growing louder the more wobble side to side.

Easy. Easy.

He steadies instantly, providing you with enough time to tighten your grip and position yourself properly on his back. You’re mindful of his injured wing, grounding the heel of your non-dominant foot beside his good wing. With your other leg, you settle your knee into his back, finding balance in your own body.

The shimmying comes to a halt, leaving you gliding effortlessly through the water, swoosh of his tail steady and low. You pull up, prompting his wings to splay out, revealing their vibrant red and orange colours. Soon the whoosh of his flapping wings drowns out the noise of his caudal fin propelling you upwards and out the water.

“There you go.” You think out loud, steadying yourself mid-air.

It’s an exhilarating feeling. The cool wind in your face and the way the sun rays heat up your skin. It almost feels like your ikran. A big smile spreads across your lips as you give his gill a gentle, reassuring tap. That’s when you feel the dull ache in your left shoulder worsen.

“Tam, tam. [there, there]” You repeat, recognizing his pain. That’s your cue to prepare yourself for the hardest part – the dive. This is the part which typically ends with the force of such a plunge knocking the na’vi off it’s back. The true test.

With a quick, deep breath, you tighten your grip around the harness one last time and dive onto your stomach, hugging his lower back with your knees. You tuck your chin to your chest and brace yourself for impact. The tsurak tucks his wings flush to his sides and plunges in, long snout piercing the water’s surface with ease.

The force of the plunge is indescribable. It’s almost like the feeling you get when you plummet down the hallelujah mountains on your ikran. But more intense. The water adds extra resistance, knocking you back to the point of your knuckles almost dislocating.

Despite that, your grip remains strong as you hurtle through the water, tilting to the side to avoid the reef. The slight sting of your lungs act as your cue to make a sharp turn and head back. You ascend slowly as you dart through the water, resurfacing completely before the three men.

You let out the breath you’ve been holding with an audible haa as you bring the beast to a halt. You wipe the water from your face and try to catch your breath, looking up to see Ralak with one of the biggest smiles on his face – the first of its kind. And you couldn’t quite tell if the shock plastered on the other mens’ faces are for you or for him.

You return the smile as you gently pull away your kuru from the tsuraks’ and dismount him. “He is weary. And injured. Left wing.” You pant, meeting eyes with the giant beaming with pride. “Let him rest, Lak.”

“Ah.” He chuckles breathily, using his tail to caress the back of your leg. “I will be sure to do that, my Tsurak Makto.”

Cheeks heating up to a dangerous degree, you avert your gaze elsewhere, only for it to land on the Olo’eyktan himself. He, too, is smiling wide, moving towards you with an extended arm. You link arms, slender fingers wrapping around his strake.

“You are Metkayina now, y/n. Soleia [congrats; you did it]” Tonowari declares.

“Thank you, sir. And your daughter –”

“While I am sure she has taught you well, Ralak is the one to thank here.” He rests a firm hand on Ralak’s shoulder.

You look over into the mangroves and see your father with his arms crossed over his chest, nodding and smiling. He’s impressed, to say the least. But not only with you and the way you absolutely mastered the taming of the skimwing, but also with Ralak – who is clearly to thank for that.

----

With night being only a blink away, things move quickly. Na’vi men and women rush to begin the preparations for the iknimaya celebration on the open, sandy area on the beach. They haul in large, tightly strung instruments, scrupulously carved flutes, drums made from animal skin, and horns made from bone, setting them up on the large, flattened rocks.

The clans’ best singers apply various colours of tsamopin [warpaint] to their skin, accentuating their features, while the elder, wiser na’vi prepare the native dishes for the feast. Fruits, vegetables, grains, and meat are cooked to perfection and spread carefully for everyone to have a taste. Bottles of fermented fruit garnish the spread. Others hurry to ornament the space with harvested bioluminescent flora from inland, and light the bon fire.

Tsireya approaches you with a full, large basket tucked on her hip. She smiles as she places her free hand on your back, guiding you and the small group of four other na’vi who passed their iknimaya to a secluded marui. Propping the basket between two jutting mangrove roots, she retrieves a handful of different coloured beads and shells.

As tsakarem [Tsahik in training], it is Tsireya’s duty to seal the iknimaya by rewarding those who passed with a few artefacts to signify their adulthood. “For your songchord.” She speaks, distributing the beads among the five of you before fetching the special pieces of clothing.

“You have all passed your iknimaya.” She speaks softly, distributing the clothing to the others. “Soleia! [congrats; you met the challenge] You may all receive your inking at the ftxozä [celebration]”

She comes to you last, carefully handing you a woven palm leaf. “I am proud of you, y/n.” She whispers, watching as you quickly open the woven packet, revealing your first Metkayinan article of clothing. Your eyes widen as you hold it in front of them.

Seven warbonnet fern leaves stained in crimson coloured ink, strung tightly together with fishing line. It’s beautiful. The leaves are long and pointed, meticulously placed to provide enough coverage for your chest. You rest it against your chest, raising your brows at Tsireya for her opinion.

She clicks her tongue, hand flying to grip her chin as she ‘thinks’. “Hm... He’s definitely going to rip that off of you.” She teases, fingers covering her mouth to hide her giggle. You laugh, probably a little too loudly given the four pairs of eyes staring at you both.

“The sun is setting, everyone! Get ready, wear your pen [clothing] with pride, look your best, and most of all, have fun!” Tsireya shouts happily, gesturing with her hand for them to hurry.

Everyone rushes to get ready, slipping in their pen and putting on their best face. You observe their hasty, excited movements, when the last rays of sunlight avert your stare to the horizon. You catch sight of the sunset, something you rarely got to see back home. The big, blood orange orb sinks beneath the horizon, turning the water a hue of orange.

Your gaze follows the ginger ripples of the water up to the beach, where you’re met with the sight of a blazing bonfire, flames growing as tall as some palm trees. A breath-taking sight. The skilled pamtseotu [musicians] work at their instruments, nimble fingers plucking the taut strings, and the wax coated bones beating away at the drums.

You admire the glow of the people as they enjoy themselves. Two elderly women trying to hear each other over the loud da-dum of the drums. A few young adults having their first sips of pxir [beer; liquor]. Parents with their sleeping babies strapped to their backs sharing a dance under the moonlight. Ao’nung and Rotxo eating as much as their cheeks can hold. Ralak – oh.

Ralak talking to your father.

----

Ralak’s POV (starting from iknimaya)

“While I am sure she has taught you well, Ralak is the one to thank here.” He rests a firm hand on Ralak’s shoulder.

Ralak remains silent, yet his mind is loud. He has so much to do – so much on his plate. But all he can think about is you. How you bring light to his small, dim world. How your presence alone uplifts the weight on his shoulders. And oh, how the past few weeks have been tortuous for him.

Tonowari, the man that took him in after the passing of his parents, had him hard at work since you weren’t allowed to see him anymore. Tonowari isn’t oblivious to what’s going on. He can tell the situation for what it is, but out of respect for Jake he made the arrangements for Tsireya to teach you instead.

Ralak has been waiting for the right time to speak with Tonowari about the matter. The matter of asking for your hand. Although he wasn’t necessarily asking Tonowari for permission for your hand, but more so permission for himself. Permission to dedicate his time to his mate, his family – to his dream, mundane life.

He watches you swim back to the mangroves, and with an injured tsurak there’s a bit of time between you and the next contender. Tonowari instructs for the other warrior to tend to the tsurak, and for a moment, it’s just Tonowari and Ralak.

The two giants exchange glances, standing in silence as one waits for the other to speak. Ralak knows it’s the perfect time to do it. You’ve just passed your iknimaya and they’re alone and far from any company.

“Sir.” Tonowari turns to face Ralak, knowing what’s coming next. Ralak slowly raises his head, tilting it to return the gaze. “I want to mate with her.” He speaks assertively, showing his seriousness through a stern gaze.

Tonowari nods a few times, breaking eye contact as he momentarily drops his head. He knows what this means – what he’s truly asking for. Freedom. Less duties. More time put into building the family he’s always wanted. To rediscover his days as a fisherman. To live his simple life.

Tonowari looks at Ralak, hand swiftly moving to firmly grip his shoulder and give it a squeeze. “You have my blessing, son.” Ralak smiles, using his free hand to clasp Tonowari’s. “But you must speak with Toruk Makto first.” Tonowari booms with laughter, pulling his hand off Ralak’s shoulder.

Although Ralak is almost as much as a giant as his mentor, he found Jake to be intimidating. He has extreme respect for Jake, admiring how family oriented he is. Which is why he wants to do it right. “I will. Tonight.”

Ralak hauls in a lengthy, wooden table, plopping it down in the open, sandy area. An elderly woman approaches him, thanking him with a gentle hand to his back and a gummy smile. Her free hand holds a bowl containing a mixture of diced fruits. He quickly takes it from her, placing it carefully in the centre of the table.

“Allow me. You rest.” He says with a thick accent, linking arms with her to walk her back over to the seating area.

“Tak. Always such a kind boy.” She whispers softly, patting his hand before letting go and taking a seat.

Jake and Neytiri are assisting with the seating area, rearranging the order of things. Ralak gestures a respectful greeting to them both, bowing his head before the former Olo’eyktan. Neytiri gives him a warm smile, acknowledging his kind gesture towards the elder.

She has always disagreed with Jakes decision to separate you two, insisting that he is too harsh on you and that you have already passed your iknimaya back home. She had taken a liking to Ralak since the day you rode an ilu after only a week of lessons.

“Sir. May I speak with you?” Ralak asks politely.

Jake lets out a hesitant sigh, looking at his mate who’s shooting him a deathly glare. He purses his lips into a thin line and gives Ralak a firm nod, gesturing with his hand that they go somewhere more private to talk. He follows Jake willingly, walking with him to the shoreline.

They stand in silence for a moment, much like he did with Tonowari earlier. Ralak takes a deep breath, preparing himself for the worst. He turns to look Toruk Makto dead in the eye, mask of indifference fixed tightly to his face.

“I would like to apologize for the way things turned out. It was never my intention.” Ralak speaks, holding eye contact with the great warrior – who is visibly biting his tongue for the sake of not being strangled by his own wife. “Your daughter. She is truly the best thing that has happened to me. Kind. Caring. Understanding. Yes, she has her moments.” Ralak widens his eyes, quirking his brows before smirking a little. “But I love those too.”

“Uh-huh.” Jake gives him a small nod, doing a ‘come on’ motion with his hand, implying he should get to the point.

A little intimidated, Ralak averts his gaze to his feet and speaks quickly and confidently. “I want to provide for her. Protect her. With my life. I will give her anything she desires. Everything she needs. I will give her a good life.” Ralak’s eyes snap up to meet Jake’s. “But only with your permission, sir.”

“You gonna look me in the eye this time and make that promise?” Jake raises his brows, wrinkling his forehead.

Ralak clears his throat, straightening his shoulders to stand at full height, towering over Jake. “I love her. I will take care of her. Give her everything. If you’ll allow it.”

There’s a moment of silence – other than the increasingly loud thump of the drums – where Jake and Ralak stand face to face. Jake process all what Ralak has said. He’s never heard so many words fall from this man’s mouth before. Jake’s shoulders drop as he heaves a sigh, perked ears now relaxing against his skull. Hands flying to his hips, he looks away briefly before looking back at Ralak.

“She’s my babygirl. You know that, right?” Jake growls through gritted teeth.

“Yes, sir.” Ralak is quick to answer.

“I swear, if you let anything – and I mean anything happen to my babygirl...” Jake’s voice his dark and gruff, laced with uncertainty.

“Understood. And, agreed. If anything happens to her, you have every right.” Ralak assures the former Olo’eyktan, grimacing at the mere thought.

“Right. Then you have my permission, Ralak.” Jake nods, extending his arm to the taller na’vi. Ralaks ears bolt upright, overjoyed to hear the words. They join arms with an audible smack, sealing the deal with a firm shake. “Go on. Go find her.” Jake nudges over to the mangroves with his chin, “Before I change my mind.” Ralak bows his head slightly and parts ways to look for you.

---- End of Ralak’s POV

Shit, I should go. You think, turning on your heels to go find Ralak. By the time you’ve turned around, everyone is gone except for Tsireya.

“Come, let’s get you ready.” Tsireya grins wide, slowly creeping towards you with her handmade palette of colours.

You pull your head back, a downturned smile spreading across your face. “Where are you putting that? What is that?”

“Just a little something for your cheeks, come on.” She smiles even wider, dipping her finger into the creamy concoction.

“Eh. Not my thing.” You pull your head back even more.

“Ralak will like it.” She sings, wiggling her pink stained finger in the air.

You let out a small sigh of defeat and lean forward. “Fine. Only a little, okay?”

“Mhm!” Tsireya squeals, beaming with delight as he smears the creamy mixture on the apples of your cheeks. “There. And a little for your lips, too.” She says, quickly swiping it on your lips before you can refuse.

You grunt in response, popping your lips to distribute it evenly. “Well. How do I look?”

“Sevin [pretty], and you’ll look even better when you put that on.” She stares at the crimson strained top in your hands.

You slip into your top, fixing the leaves into position to cover your nipples, and do a twirl for the chief’s daughter. “Well?” You ask with open hands.

You didn’t think that cheeky grin could grow much wider, but it does. A grin so wide that it’s ear to ear.“Fyole [perfect]. Now let’s go get your mate.”

Maybe her giddiness is just catching, but hearing one of the most beautiful girls in the village call you fyole makes you grin too. She tugs at your arm, urging you to follow her down the webbed pathway towards the sandy area.

As you both make your way down to the beach, the faint whoof of the drums deepen in bass, and the plunk of the stringed instruments grows higher. And soon you can make out the song that’s playing. It’s the same song that Tsireya has been trying to hum to you for the past week. You keep your chin tucked to your chest, gaze locked to your feet as you follow behind Tsireya.

Once you see the silky sand spill through the cracks of your toes, you look up to see that you’re both standing at the edge of the crowd. People are packed tightly together, sweaty bodies pressed firmly against each other as they move to the beat.

The ambiance is electric, you can practically see it jolt through the crowd. Different colours glow around the moving bodies, it reminds you of your dream hunt.

Tsireya grabs a hold of your hand, squeezing it tightly to bring you out of your deep thought. “Remember what I taught you, yes?” You stare at her wide-eyed, knowing what she’s going to tell you next. “Dance with me, vultsyìp [stick].” She sings the last word teasingly, tugging you into the crowd behind her.

As much as you loved the music, you’re focused on Ralak. You want to find him, be with him. You look around as you both weave through the crowd, bumping into people having a good time, drinking, and dancing. You swear you see a few people laying in the sand on top of one another, bent into positions you’ve never seen before.

Tsireya can sense that you’re a little anxious. Perhaps you feel out of place, or maybe you’re just a little stunned by the way of her – your people dance. She looks back on you and gives you a reassuring smile, squeezing your hand tighter as she burrows you both through the dancing crowd.

Finally coming to a more spacious area, she wraps her arms around your waist and pulls you in close. You slump into her, chin resting on her shoulder. Her lips brush against the shell of your ear. “Let him come to you.”

You pull back, looking around to see if he’s anywhere nearby before leaning back in to speak into her ear. “How will he know where to find me?”

Tsireya laughs, lifting a hand from your waist to tap her flat nose a few times, signing ‘smell’.

You nod slowly, trusting her word, despite you being in a large crowd that reeks of pxir[liquor], and – sex. You take a deep breath, smelling an array of scents all mixed, and overlapping one another. It’s almost overwhelming, leaving you feeling all hazy and dazed.

“Now dance with me!” She shouts over the boom of the music, sliding her hands down your waist to grip your hips. A giggle bubbles up your throat, the aphrodisiac properties of the music now taking affect. It sets a fire in your body, heating you up from the inside out and making your hips move in her grip.

It’s a little frightening, feeling your body move on its own, much like it did during your first heat. You try to fight it a little, feeling a little timid from how the music is affecting you in this way. But you recall Tsireya explaining to you that it’s something to do with ‘the way of Eywa permeating through the music’ – or something.

Tsireya realizes that your movements are bit rigid and broken, plagued with uncertainty. “Let go. Feel the music.” She urges you, guiding your hips in the direction of her motions. You allow yourself to let go, closing your eyes to immerse yourself in the trance of the music, moving freely to the rhythm.

With each beat of the drum comes a quick roll of your waist. And soon you’re dancing on her, vibrations of the instruments rippling through you. It comes naturally, body moving in a sinuous manner against hers. At the same time, it’s such a foreign feeling, as if your pores are dilating and releasing your essence into the air.

Meanwhile, Ralak is searching for you at the edge of the crowd, peeking over the sea of people. His eyes quickly scan the waves of dancing na’vi, looking for his tahni. His deep blue tahni. He had no interest in going into the crowd, much less surrender himself to the hypnotic ways of the music.

But he has no other choice.

He nosedives into the crowd, working his way between people as they increasingly get more and more suggestive with their bodies. One cannot simply walk through this without being affected to some degree – the pink tinge of his cheeks is evidence of it.

A hand instinctively flies to his nose to block out the mixture of scents bombarding him. Pxir. Sex. Desperation. Its almost contagious. Only making him want to be with you even more. Nearly to the point of desperation. He needs you. To be around you. To touch you. To be inside you.

Until it just becomes too much. Too much that a simple hand overing his burning nostrils won’t suffice. He drops his hand in defeat, allowing the mesmeric fumes to engulf him. It’s nauseating, yet his want for you grows stronger, to the point where he could swear to Eywa herself that the scent is slowly morphing into yours.

And yours only.

Ralak closes his eyes, inhaling so deeply that his chest tightens – all so he can savour your sweet, sweet aroma. He succumbs to it, nose following the scent to the source like an ilu being lured with a piece of fish. When he opens his eyes, he sees you. Clear as day.

There’s an aura around you, glowing so bright it’s almost blinding. It’s like the light in the darkness – all over again. Just like the first day he met you. The day you brought meaning to his life after losing so much.

Right there.

In awe, he watches your little body move effortlessly to the rhythm, slender tail swishing excitedly behind you. It’s the way you look – all flushed and flustered, dressed in the clothes of the Metkayina. He swallows thickly at the sight, influence of your pheromones making it that much harder – literally. He’s so hard it hurts, balls tightening and pulling so close to him that he shifts his weight to the next foot.

Yet his eyes dare not move. They bore into you so deep that even you can sense his stare. Your body knows he’s close, speeding up with your lewd movements, luring him in even more. And it works. He can’t help but move a little closer. Just to get a better look at you. At how you’ve learned the dance of his people, moving just like one of them with no difficulty.

And then you feel him.

Pressing against your body from behind, his warmth only heating you up more. You can smell him – no need to turn around to check who it is. You lean back into him, back of your head slumping into his chest. Everything’s so hot – so heavy. He leans down, pressing his soft, warm lips against your throat, using his tongue to taste the sheen on your skin.

You exhale an audible haah, chest heaving harshly as your nipples harden into peaks underneath your new garments. Tsireya lets you go, retreating into the crowd to leave you both alone. His hands quickly replace hers, wrapping tightly around your waist, pulling you in closer to his hot body.

That’s when you feel it, hard and firm, pressing into your lower back. Then your breaths turn raggedy, becoming louder. You can’t help but grind into it, feeling him bend his knees, body receptive to your movements. And soon he’s grinding into you too, bodies falling into synchrony.

“So this is what you have been learning. Hm?” He whispers gruffly into the shell of your ear, following your every move as you lower yourself even more.

“May-be” The word comes out broken from the pace your body is setting for him to keep up with.

“All for me?” He chuckles, greedy hands lowering to your thighs, fingers smoothing over your clammy skin.

“Mmn – mhm.” You purr, thighs squeezing together as you shimmy your hips into him, providing your throbbing clit with a little friction.

His hands swipe underneath your loincloth as they glide back up to your hips, his lips pressing into your neck once more. He peppers hot, wet kisses down to the tips of your shoulders and up to the back of your neck. It sends your freckles flickering under the moonlight, surely gaining more eyes on the two of you.

But neither of you cared. Not in this moment.

“Feel me.” He growls, sinking his fingers into your hips to shove you into his pelvis. “Feel what you do to me.”

You can hear the frustration in his voice, he’s so wound up that you can just tell from the way he’s manhandling your hips. “Oh, fuck.” You gasp, rubbing yourself against his hardened bulge, tail wrapping around his thin waist.

Calloused hands work their way up your stomach, fingers grazing over the dip of your navel before finding purchase under the strings of your top. He hooks his thumbs under the twine, running them along its length. You bow your back against him, pushing back into his crotch.

“My beautiful tahni.” He groans shakily, resisting the urge to pin you down and take what’s his, right here, right now. “I have missed you.”

“Ma’ Lak.” You moan softly, feeling so out of it – so hazy and light-headed.

“Do me the honour of being my mate.” He tries to speak politely, keeping his voice steady and calm, rough grinding smoothing into gentle swaying.

“Say that again for me.” You pant through a smile, dipping your head forward to give him better access to your neck.

A low growl rumbles in his chest as pointed canines graze over the nape of your neck, eager to sink into your supple skin. You spin around, drawing a little blood when they scrape against your skin. He shoves a knee between your legs, spreading them apart to press his pelvis firmly into yours. “Mate with me, woman.”

“Oh, yeah? Right here?” You tease, tugging at his queue to bring it over his shoulder.

“You’re trouble. You know that?” He chuckles breathily, leaning down to nuzzle into your neck, breathing in your hypnotic scent.

“I’ve been told.” You let out a soft giggle, twirling the end of his kuru around your finger.

Eywa, did that feel good.

“Come.” He says quickly - impatiently, hoisting you up onto him, wrapping your legs around his waist. He stumbles over to the shore, still feeling the effects of the melodic music coursing in his bloodstream. Quickly calling for his tsurak with a tik-tak, he watches as the large beast glides through the water towards him.

In an instant, Ralak bonds and mounts the beast with you stuck to him, holding you close with one hand and gripping the harness tightly with the other. You bury your face into his chest, basking in his natural scent as you try to calm down. But you’re so on edge and need some sort of release soon.

“Need y-you. S-so bad.” You moan needily, breath hitching as you grind the soft flesh between your legs against the tautness of his tewng [loincloth].

Ralak’s brows pinch tightly together, huffing a breath of hot air through his nostrils. His restraint is dwindling by the millisecond. He needs you. Craves you. Hungers for you. And he can no longer withhold himself, not when you’re still grinding into him, even though the music has faded out.

“I know. Almost there. A little longer.” He hums breathlessly, beads of sweat rolling down his temples.

Ralak’s so flustered and hot that he can barely maintain control over his winged beast, making the ride to the cove of ancestors rough and bumpy. The burning need to possess you – dominate you – only grows stronger with each huff of hot air you breathe onto his bare chest.

He wants so badly to just drill himself inside you, right on the back of this tsurak. Leaving his cock buried deep in your tight, wet heat for the remainder of the ride. So that when you do arrive, he can lay you down on the nearest rock and have his way with you.

But he won’t. Not for your first time. Not before you mate.

Your breath rasps in your throat, nimble fingers working away at the knot above his tail. It’s as if you could hear his thoughts already, telling you to take him right here, right now. Or perhaps it’s the way his painfully hard cock almost bores through the thin cloth, right into your sopping cunt as his hips buck into you. Both of you reek with desperation, a scent so pungent any passer-by would gag. Yet he still finds the self-control to reach behind him to rest a gentle hand on your wriggling fingers.

“Wait.” A single word parts his flushed lips, gruff and strained. It’s all he can get out in his state of mind. He wants nothing more than to just do this the right way. The way he’s been planning for years on end. You whine a little when he pulls your hand away, plunking it back onto your slippery thigh.

“Please.” You mewl, fingers now burrowing between your pelvises to slip under the band of his loincloth, pulling it down just enough to unsheathe his thick cock. It’s slaps against his flexed abdomen, tip of his glossy, reddened head poking right below his crossed ribs. It’s all swollen and throbbing, sticky from how much precum he’s leaking all over himself.

Denying him the chance to refuse, you shove your clothed cunt against his slickened length, humping into him with ease. He tries to bite back a sudden groan, tightening his jaw so much he may fracture it. His breaths turn raggedy as he rests his chin on the crown of your head.

Eyes becoming so lidded, he doesn’t even realise that you’re finally here. The cove of the ancestors. The most sacred places in the village of Awa’atlu, where na’vi go to mate. You’re blissfully unaware of your surroundings, trying to stick your hand in your crotch to shift your loincloth to the side.

“I said. Wait.” A gruff, stern voice sends a shiver down your spine.

And fuck – it only makes you hornier, sending your hips in a thrusting frenzy, doing their best to line his cockhead up with your dripping entrance. You can’t quite catch it as it keeps bucking and slipping over your puffy clit. You grunt a frustrated ‘mmph’, irritated that he isn’t sliding in like you thought.

Ralak is struggling to maintain his composure. Half of him wants to chuckle at your futile attempts to fuck him, and the other half wanting to just ram his cock inside you for being so stubborn. He takes a deep breath in, holding it to reground himself. He exhales a sigh of relief once he bumps into the rocky cove of his people’s most sacred place.

“Eywa – tahni.” A tortured groan evades his lips when he forces himself to shift his pelvis away from you as you persist with your efforts to hurt yourself. He inhales deeply, slowing his galloping heart. “Be a good girl for me, hm? We are here now.” He croons at you, wrapping your hands around his neck and supporting your back as he dismounts his tsurak.

The bioluminescence of the water glows behind you as Ralak walks you both towards a nearby sea cave. Directly below you is the spirit tree – its fronds and filters luminating the area radiantly. You try to squirm out his grip, feet dangling above the cave floor from the way he refuses to let you go.

“Not here. Too rough.” He grunts as he hoists you back up and walks further into the large, open sea cave. Its floor is completely flat, with all sorts of flora growing between the cracks of the rock. The deeper you venture in, the greener it becomes. Until eventually, all that covers the floor is a thick bed of green, silky moss.

Little creatures buzz around, luminating the darkness of the cave, exposing the markings on the wall from previous mating sessions. Etched swirls, zigzags, and other patterns to signify a new union. There’s no doubt that this little ‘hidden’ spot is a popular place for na’vi to mate before Eywa.

You calm down a bit, influence of the music wearing off now that you’re both so far away from the celebration. At this point you just feel a bit buzzed, melting into Ralak’s grasp as your tense muscles relax. But your droopy eyes snap open when you feel him unwrapping your legs from his waist.

“Here.” Ralak husks, voice deep and thick with arousal.

He lets you down gently, snaking his arms around your waist to pull you in for a kiss. His lips crash into yours, so heated and frantic that there’ll for sure be bruises there tomorrow. His eager hands explore your body, releasing all the pent-up feelings he’s been holding back for the past few months.

Hearts thumping wildly in your chests, you pull away and share the same breath, panting open mouthed before your lips meet again. His hands find themselves cupped around your reddened cheeks, impatiently pulling you in closer until your bodies are flush against one another.

Webbed hands work their way down the column of your throat, calloused thumbs gently pressing into your windpipe. You let out a choked gasp, mouth hanging open as his hands continue their way down to your chest, fingers parting the blood-red leaves to expose your stiffened nipples.

Rolling the tiny, sensitive peaks between his thumb and index fingers, he quickly moves his kisses down your jaw and up to the lobe of your ear, biting it as gently as he can. You stand there open-mouthed, breath catching in your throat momentarily.

You exhale as you rub your thighs together, smearing your sticky arousal all over them. It spreads your scent into the air, causing Ralak to pull away from your ear and takes a deep breath in. He releases it with a lengthy ‘ahh’, face growing hot from the way you smell. You can see him clench and unclench his jaw as the lump in his throat moves from how hard he’s swallowing.

Cerulean eyes pierce into yours, a moment of stillness passes by where his face morphs into the same face he makes when he’s trying not to succumb to that animalistic urge to ravish you on the spot. But it’s been too long. No amount of clenching and gritting could help him.

Not tonight.

He grabs you by the jaw, pulling you up on the tips of your toes to kiss you – hard. His lips crush yours frenetically, letting go all his worries and apprehensions. Truly indulging himself in the moment. In you. He fills his lungs with your arousal – your aphrodisiac. Getting high on you and allowing his body to speak for him.

Slipping his tongue into your mouth, he backs you up against the wall, hand flying to the back of your head to cushion the impact. Your tongues roll over each other, taking in the feeling of every tastebud. Both his hands slip down to yours, lengthy fingers enfolding your wrists as he brings them above your head, pinning them to the wall.

He quickly binds your wrists together, securing them tightly with one hand whilst he shoves his free hand between your slickened thighs. A small, shaky gasp breaks the kiss, thick fingers tugging down your soddened garments. You help him by shimmying your hips, allowing the flimsy material to drop to your ankles.

Now you’re just irresistible.

His fingers graze past your plump, smooth folds, before finding their way in between them. “Ralak.” His name slips out, all breathy and small. You say it so nicely, so sweet and innocent, and his ears can’t help but flicker at the double syllabled word. Eywa, he loves it so much that he makes it his mission to have you scream it by the end of the night.

But not yet.

He brings his digits to his nose, inhaling as deep as his lungs can go, closing his eyes to relish in the sweet, sweet scent of your arousal. And when his eyes open, you swear you see them shift in colour, darkening to a cerulean blue. There filled with greed, gazing longingly at you as if you were something to devour.

And that’s when he takes his fingers into his mouth, having his taste of you. Tongue weaving through the cracks of his digits, he licks them clean, using his thumb to wipe the corners of his mouth before popping that in too. There was something about the way he did that, sucking on his fingers as if you were the best thing, he’s ever tasted in his twenty-four years of living.

It makes you want to taste him too. Back bowing against the jagged wall, you try to wriggle free from his grasp, prompting him to loosen his fingers. In an instant you sink to your knees, staticky hands latching onto his thighs as you press your face against his half-covered bulge. His hand flattens against the wall, supporting his weight as he peers down at you wide-eyed.

You walk your fingers up his thighs, tucking them under the band of this loincloth to yank it down. Out springs his twitching cock, rock hard and throbbing from how swollen he’s gotten from sharing a few kisses. Your eyes cross as you look at it for the first time up close.

It’s... thick. So thick you can’t close your hand around it, leaving a spacious gap between your fingers and thumb. It only gets fatter towards the middle, then tapers off into his mushroomy head, curved and ribbed. His ridges are pointed, yet soft, spanning around and down the underside of his cockhead.

It curves upward, jumping to the rate of his heartbeat. A single bead of precum oozes from his slit, dripping off his cockhead in a thin string. Your tongue darts out, flattened with the tip of it touching your chin, eyes locked on his as you wait patiently for your fill. And when it finally drops onto your tongue, your tastebuds dance from the slightly sweet taste.

His brows jump at the sight, eyelids fluttering a little too quickly to be considered calm and collected. You can’t fight the smug look creeping on your face when you lock your jaw and swallow it with glee. Oh, to make a big, grown man like him crumble.

Naturally, you want to see how far you can push him. You wrap your dainty fingers around his cock, hold it taut to expose his throbbing head. Unsure of what you’re doing, you give him little kitten licks, playing with the little ridges underneath the tip of his cock.

His head slumps forward, thick strands of loose hair swaying side to side as his core flexes and unflexes. He’s biting his bottom lip, struggling to hold back that low grumble deep in his chest, hand balling into a fist against the wall.

And when you finally take him into your mouth, engulfing him in wet heat, his hips thrust. Hard. He didn’t mean for it, you just feel so fucking good around his cock, swollen lips stretching to their limit just for him to fit. Your eyes water, tip of his cock prodding into the back of your throat, corners of your mouth burning from the sheer size of him.

The way you’re looking up at him all glossy eyed and innocent, trying to absolute hardest not to gag on not even half of his cock sends him over the edge. He tightens his fist, knuckles scraping against the rocky wall, surely becoming bloody as he fights the urge to thrust into you one more time.

That’s when you hear the rumble in his chest, the steady, low growl traveling up his throat. Perhaps it was meant to scare you, or maybe it’s the face he’s making – narrowed, beady eyes and thinly pursed lips. Make you sit in the dip of your feet and be the good girl he wants you to be. But it only makes you wetter, thick strings of your own slick oozing onto the mossy floor.

You take him deeper into your mouth, mushroomy tip making its way down the tightness of your throat. The hot tears stream down your cheeks, washing away the rouge to reveal an even pinker tinge of your skin. The saliva pooling in your cheeks spills out the corners of your mouth, dribbling down your chin with nowhere to go.

Instinctively, you swallow.

An innocent reflex, as innocent as the glazed eyes that peer up at him. He lets out a sudden, sonorous groan, brows pinching so tightly together it creases his forehead. It’s so sensitive, so tender, that his hips snap back, cock pulling out your mouth with a loud pop. His bloodied hand flies down to your pinch your chin, pushing you away from him all together.

“’m sorry.” You apologize through a hoarse voice, thinking you’ve hurt him.

He shakes his head, thumb swiping the drool on your swollen bottom lip. “Don’t.” He exhales, chest rising and falling from how hard he’s breathing. You watch this gentle giant crumble to his knees before you, chin tucked to his chest to hide his face. He swallows harshly, clearing his throat as he slowly raises his head and looks up at you through hooded eyes.

“Tsaheylu.” He says breathlessly, heated ears laying flat against his head. He catches his breath as he shuffles closer to you, hand reaching for his kuru. All that’s running through his mind is that he must do this right. And with whatever remaining restraint ebbing away, he must do it now. “Tsaheylu, tahni.” He repeats quickly.

Ralak holds his kuru upwards, exposing his pink tendrils as they dance wildly before your eyes. There’s a moment of silence, where you both take in the lilac hue of his kuru. You nod franticly as a hasty hand reaches behind you, quickly tugging your queue in front of you. You hold yours next to his, revealing your wiggling tendrils.

Your eyes widen when you realize that they sense one another – an invisible force pulling them together. You glance up at him, wondering if he’s feeling the tug too. He’s watching intently, ears twitching and eyes tinted purple from the hues of your kurus coming closer together all on their own.

Looking back down, you witness your tendrils excitedly intertwine with one another, kurus meeting with a quick, harsh tug. His eyes slam shut, ears practically disappearing as they embrace the curve of his skull. He exhales loudly, head dipping forward as his brows gather tightly.

Your breath catches in your throat, body waiting for him to take a breath. When he finally does, you gasp for air, filling your lungs in synchrony with him. His eyes pop open, pupils so blown that only a thin ring of blue remains. Your tail swishes wildly behind you before curling around your waist to tickle his thigh.

A faint ring buzzes in your ears, fading out into a vague, echo of his voice. You can hear his thoughts, feel the way your tail brushes against his skin makes him hot and bothered. You can feel his tightened chest, thick with emotion and overwhelm. And if you close your eyes and focus enough, you can feel his deep-rooted trauma – his past.

But you can also feel his present. His future. The way he desires you to be the one to bear his children. To make his marui into a home. His immense adoration for you and only you. and the more you tune into your mate, the more you feel his immense restraint and composure, the way he’s forcing himself to be gentle.

It’s all too much at once, yet not enough all together.

“I love you.” You blurt out in unison, urge so strong it’s exigent.

The tightness in your chest grows ten-fold, spreading to your core. Eager hands caress one another’s cheeks, pulling each other in for another heavy session of kissing. You break the kiss with a shove to his chest – your futile attempt to push him onto his back. He’s unbudging, strong and solid, even in such a carnal state.

“Lie down, Lak.” You pant, still out of breath from such an intimate experience.

Ralak nods, slowly leaning back to prop himself up on his elbows. Loose, curly strands of hair sticks to his temples, inebriated gaze boring into yours. You climb between his legs, settling yourself comfortably in the dips of your feet.

His neglected cock twitches madly, pre-cum practically flowing down his length and onto his swollen, firm balls. You swallow thickly at such an enticing sight. You want to taste him. To return the pleasure he’s always ensuring for you. Now that you’re here, between this gentle giant’s legs, you realise that you’ve never even stroked him before.

Shaky, inexperienced hands wrap around his girth, experimentally gliding up and down its length a few times. You can feel every vein, every ridge pressing into the palm of your hands. He’s so rock hard that it looks painful. You can tell in the way he grimaces, peering down at you as you pump him without rhythm.

Holding his cock out the way, you lean in do something you’ve been thinking about since the day of your first lesson. Lick his tattoo. It’s raised and warm, even a little veiny too. You trace each stripe with the tip of your tongue, trailing it down to the base of his cock. Nuzzling your face into the space between his thigh and balls, you fill your lungs with his musky aphrodisiac.

“Eywa. You smell... so fucking good.” You exhale, licking his cock from base to tip. He shudders before you, lying down flat on his back and covering his face with his hands. You can tell you’re doing a good job, the little groans evading his mouth confirming that for you.

Taking him into your mouth, you suck on his mushroomy head, swallowing all the slick that pools in your cheeks. Its mostly sweet, with a little bit of a salty aftertaste. You mindlessly play with the ridges under his tip, liking the way they feel against your tastebuds. He seems to like it too, hips jolting forward with each swipe of your tongue.

“Muntxate [wife]” He growls the word, hand flying from his face to grab a fist full of your hair.

Yes, my love? You think, knowing he’s hearing your every thought and feeling your every emotion.

“Keep doing that and I’ll cum.” He warns you, tone of voice gruff and serious.

Good. Cum for me.

“Ssst–ah.” He lets out a shaky breath, hand beginning to pull your head off him. You quickly clutch his wrist, picking up the speed of your tongue whilst bobbing your head on his cock. “Tahni. Tahni. Tahni.” He groans, each word becoming more and more guttural as they slip off his tongue.

Let me taste you, Muntxatan [husband].

“Shit.” He whispers, caving in on himself as his other hand flies to your head, stopping you from bobbing your head all together. With a quick, single swipe of your tongue, his head pulsates feverishly, spurting ropes of warm, thick cum in your mouth. It pools in your cheeks, stuffing them until they burn from how full they are.

You swear you can hear the da-thump of his throbbing cock, balls pulling closely to his core. You hum triumphantly, proud of yourself for making him cum. You pull off with a subtle pop and a loud gulp, swallowing his huge load with greed. Wide eyes stare down at you, processing what you just did.

Seconds of silence fill the air, two freshly mated na’vi staring into each other’s eyes.

Within seconds he’s pinning you down on your back, assaulting your throat with rough kisses. His core ruts against yours, sweaty, inexperienced bodies bumping into each other. Everything moves so quickly that you can barely process how he’s got you pinned down on your back underneath him, trailing wet, feverish kisses down your chest. You go to slip out of your top, only for a large hand to stop you.

“Keep it on.” He grunts into your skin, tip of his tongue leaving a trail of saliva down the centre of your stomach. Eyes flicking up to yours, his predatory, lustful gaze bores into you, soft lips pressing into your abdomen. They flicker from side to side as they admire your luminous beauty, flushed lips sucking bruised-like marks into your dark skin.

Little broken mewls part your lips, hips lifting slightly as he peppers gentle kisses below your navel. He maintains eye contact with you as he works his way down to your hipbones, leaving open-mouthed kisses against your hips, he works his way down to your soft thighs, tip of his tongue swiping against your skin – salty from the sea. He lingers there for a while, breathing deeply to savour the sweet scent of your heat that’s so, so close to him.

He lingers there, waiting patiently.

Waiting for your permission as he begs you with his eyes to let him have a proper taste of you. To have his turn. One side of your mouth pulling coy smirk, you weave your fingers through his hair to push his nose between your folds. He wrenches your thighs open, pinning your legs to the mossy ground as he begins to devour you.

Tongue parting your pussy lips, he greedily laps up the sweet nectar dripping from your slit. He grunts into your cunt, sucking on your clit, all swollen and puffy from being so neglected. His hips buck into the mossy bedding beneath him, chasing the feeling that’s transferring to him through the bond.

You yelp out when you feel his finger stretch you out, sinking inside you at a torturously slow pace. He doesn’t want to be too rough with you as it’s been a while since he’s touched you in this way. But you reassure him with a tug at his wrist, shoving his finger knuckle deep inside you.

But it’s just not enough.

“M-more, Ralak. Please!” You cry out, extreme pressure in your chest coming to a head.

Feeling the taut tension, Ralak quickly obliges, sinking another digit inside of you as he assaults the little bud of nerves with the flat of his tongue. Your toes curl at the same time he curls his fingers inside you, prodding them deep into that gummy part of your heat. The pressure feels like electricity, surging through your core and to the tips of your extremities.

He loves how you’re squirming around, hips sputtering to chase your orgasm all on your own. He’s so proud of you, working for your own release like the good girl you are. Praising you with a quick pat on your thigh, he quickens the pace of his fingers, working out a squelch with each thrust.

You begin chanting his name over and over, voice waning with each syllable, until its nothing a tiny, pathetic whimper. Your head spins and your heart skips as you clench tightly around his digits. Your legs tremble, working their way towards one another to close around his face.

“Gonna – oh f-fuck.” You let loose a sudden whine, shoving him into your pussy when you feel the final shockwave ripple through your being, leaving you a shaking mess at the mercy of his two fingers and tongue. Following your every jolt, he hums a victorious groan from the feeling of your pussy walls fluttering helplessly around his fingers. He pulls away with a ‘pwah’, using this opportunity of pure, unadulterated pleasure to stretch you out even more.

“Good girl. And breathe for me.” Ralak coos, sliding his third and final finger inside you. The stretch stings, causing you to wince for just a moment. He quickly curls his fingers, causing another wave of white-hot pleasure to ripple through you, masking that string just right.

Ralak gently moves his fingers inside you, just enough to get you used to the such a big stretch. The sharp sting fades away, leaving nothing but small shocks of electricity surging through your swollen pussy. Slumping your head back into the pillowy moss, you focus on steadying your breathing. Your vision is blurry, and things are becoming hazy, but you don’t want this moment to end.

“Lak... Want more. Please.” You moan weakly, eyes crossing before they roll to the back of your head. You’re already all fucked out from his fingers alone yet you’re begging him for more. And he can see it, too. The way you’re just so spent, body trembling beneath him as he continues to stimulate your rubbed out sweet spot.

“I am not like you, tahni. I only have three.” He chuckles softly, curling them inside you as a reminder.

“Ngh! Y-you know what I mean. I want you...” Your voice falters, hand reaching down to grab his erection, a little surprised that he’s still this hard. “I want this. Please.”

His features soften, apprehension filling his lower stomach just from the jaded look you’re throwing his way. “Are you sure? We can do it another time.” He insists, feeling how tight you still are, despite taking three of his fingers.

“No, please no.” You pant as you shake your head lethargically, shimmying your hips closer to his. “Need-you-to-fuck-me!” You cry out, stringing the desperate words together so quickly it almost sounds like one.

“Tahni.” He utters just over a whisper, staring down at you with eyes of concern. Not only can he see the exhaustion on your face, but he can feel it too. It travels in waves through the bond, right into him. And after such a long day, iknimaya and all, it’s expected. “It will be too much for you right now.”

“You said, ‘anything I please with’. Right?” A tremulous, soft voice reminds him of his deal, knowing he’s a man of his word, albeit few. He chews on his bottom lip, a little impressed with you. He heaves a heavy sigh of defeat, positioning himself between your clammy thighs as he hoists your legs over his.

“Tell me if it hurts. Okay?” He leans over you, using a thumb at the base of his cock to line it up with your entrance.

You nod lazily before tucking your chin to your chest to witness you become one. The crown of his cock prods at your tight opening, looking massive in comparison. For a second you even question yourself how that will fit inside you. It’s way bigger than his three fingers combined, not to mention, much, much lengthier.

It bucks against your innocence, slipping and gliding over your sticky clit. You both grunt in unison, tension snapping just to rebuild all over again. His hips snap back, all four fingers now gripping the base of his cock.

An unexpected wave of anxiety crashes through you, making you cling onto your mate. You bury your hot face into his shoulder, completely abandoning the plan to witness it strip you of your innocence. He can feel your hesitation through the bond, holding his position in case you change your mind.

“Do it, ma’ lak. Put it inside me.” You mumble quietly into the dip of his collarbone, inching your hips closer to his.

He pushes into you slowly, breaking past the resistance of your tightness, mushroomy tip liding in with an audible pop. You bite down onto his shoulder, hard enough to sink the full length of your canines into his cyan coloured skin, staining it red with his blood. It muffles your pained, little cry, tear drops crashing onto the swell of your cheeks.

Fuck, it hurts.

It hurts so much that it makes your body shake and shiver underneath him as it tries so desperately to adjust to his size. It burns and stings and oh – it’s just too much. It feels as if something were lodged between your joints, snapping you open with such force.

His movement comes to a standstill, as if he were frozen in time. He grimaces, unsure if its from the way you’re pinching him or if its from how deep your little canines are sunk into him. Or maybe it’s your pain transferring to him, but he feels it too.

“You okay? Feeling pain?” Ralak’s voice is tender, a gentle hand moving to release your bite.

You unlatch from his shoulder, leaving open puncture wounds for blood to trickle down his chest. The pain fades at a torturously slow rate, but any little movement causes a new wave of fire to shoot down your legs. Surely, just like with his fingers, if you stay here for a bit, it’ll fade completely.

“No. Haah. Just give a m-minute.” You pant out a lie, breath hitching at the last word.

“Y/n. I can feel your pain.” He utters breathily, pulling out as gently as he can.

“Don’t. Please, I want this.” Your voice is breathy, yet strained, legs quickly locking around his hips to push him in a little deeper. You let out a sudden, high-pitched whimper, burning sensation worsening. Your legs begin to shake uncontrollably around him, sending little vibrations up his spine.

“You’re shaking. Another time.” Ralak says sternly, unhooking your legs from around his hips.

“No, please.” A pathetic little plea falls from your lips.

He shakes his head, grinding his teeth together to deal with the guild bubbling in his chest. “Your body isn’t ready.” He mutters, pulling out tenderly. The more he moves, the more the scent of blood fills the air. He can feel it trickling down his back, but it’s the least of his concerns right now.

“I-I am ready. Please Lak, just give me a moment to –”

Ralak looks down as he pulls out, head snapping back up to reveal the panic etched into his features. “You – oh Eywa. You are bleeding, tahni.”

“It’s okay. I’m okay.” You coo with quivering lungs, cupping his cheek to make him look in your eyes. “Really. Look at me, Ralak.” You give him a wobbly smile, only for him to pull away from your grip.

“I am hurting you. Look.” Two fingers pinch your chin, pulling it down to avert your gaze. A thin layer of blood coats your inner thighs, some smearing on his too. Your eyes snap back up to his, which are glazed over with panic and guilt. He pulls out of you fully, sitting in the dip of his feet to have a proper look between your legs. “I am so sorry tahni... I-I thought I stretched you enough.”

“Lak...” You whisper shyly, trembling legs slowly closing to hide yourself from his eyes.

“We must go.” He declares, carefully scooping you up into his arms, holding you close to his chest as he makes his way out of the cave. Calling for his tsurak, he glances down at your face to see it screwed with discomfort. The guilt weighs heavy in his heart, driving him to act quickly.

So quickly that you don’t even realise that you’re already on the back of his tsurak, soaring at full speed through the water. You were truly fine, just a little sore and uncomfortable, but certainly nothing that required this level of speed. The ride back is uncomfortably quiet, Ralak trying his hardest to regulate his emotions. You can see the restrained look on his face, tightened brows, and thin lips.

“I’m alright, my love. You don’t have to go so quickly.” You try to reassure him with a small voice. He huffs a sigh in response, clenching and unclenching his jaw, biting back his feelings to focus on remedying the situation. “’ts not your fault.”

Eyes slamming shut, he shakes his head slightly, as if he were saying you were wrong. He holds you closer, opening his eyes to glance down at your blood-stained thighs. Eyelids fluttering, he looks back out into the distance, watching his marui pod appear larger and larger as he approaches it.

Within seconds he’s dismounted his skimwing, and takes large, quick strides to the cave. Your legs dangle over his forearm, other arm supporting your back as he carries you bridal style into the water. A shaky hand reaches for his kuru, holding it in the air to expose his pink, tendrils.

“Tsaheylu, Lak.” You groan needily, wrapping your tail around his thigh.

“Soon, tahni. Let me clean you first.” He hums tenderly, glancing down at your body one last time before slowly submerging you in the water.

The lake is always warmer in the nights, glowing around you from its bioluminescent properties. Supporting your back with one hand, he carefully parts your legs and cleans you gently. Your eyes remain locked onto his face, his clenching jaw, his flattened ears – the way the column of his throat protrudes when he swallows.

The guilt is evident on his face, and it worsens the more he looks at what he’s done to you. And when he moves down to the flesh between your legs, you can’t help but jolt, legs closing around his hands as you wince a little. His head whips towards you, worried eyes boring into yours. You give him a quick smile, nodding that he can continue.

Hand parting your legs once more, he ensures to be extra gentle and tender, even leaning in to see if he’s doing it right. After he’s finished, he bathes the rest of your body, rinsing the sweat and grime out of your hair after such a long night.

“Thank you. You didn’t have to –” You mutter, trying to stand so you can have your turn at bathing him.

“No need.” He says quickly, scooping you back into his arms with ease, making his way up to his marui. “How are you feeling?”

“I feel fine, Lak. Honestly. You could’ve kept going, I just needed a moment.” You blubber out, trying to wriggle from his clutch.

He scoffs, shaking his head as he ducks under the flap to his marui. “You are like a baby.” He walks over to his bed and lays you down carefully, treating you as if you were really wounded. The leaves of your top stick to your breasts, wet and saturated from such a long bath.

“And you were about to fuck –” You mutter under your breath, to be cut off by Ralak’s glare. You let out a small sigh, a little frustrated from how the night played out. He walks towards a shelf on the opposite side of his marui, giving you the opportunity to sit up, and scoot over to the edge of the cot to get up.

His ears perk up from the shuffling sounds, but his back remains turned to you as he mutters the word. “Sit.”

Defeated, you plop back down onto the soft bedding, thumbs twiddling with one another as you wait for him to come back. Meanwhile he extends his arm to the top shelf, back muscles flexing as he retrieves two wooden drinking bowls and a bottle of liquid.

It’s mauve, and iridescent, swirling around as it sloshes from side to side. He pops it open with his back teeth, spitting the cork into a woven basket on the floor. He plans to cut it into two later, saving a piece each for your songchords.

Sitting next to you on the end of his cot, he hands you the wooden cup, nudging it closer to you with raised brows for you to take it from him. Reluctantly, you take it, a little confused as to what he’s giving you to drink. He pours the thick liquid into the cup, stopping after a few glugs. Then he pours himself one, too, waiting until the liquid touches the lip of his cup.

“Drink.” He orders, bringing his cup to his mouth as he waits for you to do the same.

Bringing it to your lips, your face screws with disgust, head turning away to get the smell out your face. You lower the cup into your lap, looking at him with an expression of perplexment.

How could he drink such a foul-smelling thing?

“Erm, no thanks... I’ll pass.” You barely get out, afraid to take a breath in.

His ears flatten in frustration, lip twitching ever so slightly. He knows this will help with the pain, so why are you being so stubborn? He doesn’t utter a single word, beady eyes piercing into yours.

“Okay. Okay. I’ll drink it... Eywa.” You say the great mother’s name like a curse, bringing the cup to your lip.

You take a sip, face contorts with revulsion, eyes watering as the liquid burns on the way down your throat. Your tongue darts out in repulsion as your eyes flicker up to him, brows raising inquisitively to ask if you drank enough.

His lips purse, and he shakes his head slightly. “All.”

You heave a sigh, rolling your eyes a little before bringing the cup back up to your lips once more. You feel a single finger rest under your hand, nudging it upwards to tilt the cup all the way back, encouraging you to take a swig. You knock it back, gulping down the viscous liquid and stick your tongue out for proof.

He nods in approval, slight smirk curling the side of his lips. He knocks his back in one go, letting out ‘ahh’ after the liquid travels down his throat. Not even a wince. He seems to enjoy the burn.

For you, the after taste is even worse, making your nose scrunch and the tears overflow from your eyes. He’s quick to wipe them away with his thumb, tucking a strand of loose hair behind your ear before retracting his hand entirely.

“What did I just drink?” You croak, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand.

“Fermented fruit. Pxir...” He looks at you, “Liquor.” Ralak takes the cup from you and refills it, as well as his.

Plunking it back into your hand, you look at him through pinched brows. “What does it do?”

He brings his to his wet lips, exhaling a sigh of guilt. “Pain. It will help with the pain.” He sighs, throwing his head back and swallowing the pxir in one, loud gulp.

Your features soften when you realize how he knows such a thing. “Is this what you had when you did your own tattoo?”

“Yes. Not the same. But the same effect.” He chuckles a little, impressed by your ability to put things together so quickly.

“Ah. I see.” You say, looking at the liquid as it swirls around in your cup. “So if I drink enough of this, you’d do my tattoo for me?”

“Sure.” He utters, fighting the little smile creeping on his face as he watches you chug the pxir. “But tomorrow. I have already caused you a great deal of pain today.”

Another sigh makes its way out your nose. You give up entirely, handing him the empty cup and laying down in the bed. Your bed. In your marui pod. Wondering, heavy eyes begin exploring the pod all on their own. It feels like the stilts holding the roof up are spinning, making you feel a bit woozy.

“Ralak. I feel weird.” You hiccup, heavy lidded eyes threatening to close for good. “All... bubbly.”

“Ah. My tahni.” He hums softly, sliding into bed next to you. “It will do that to you. Get some rest, okay?” He rakes his fingers through your hair, using his fingertips to massage your scalp.

“Lak. I want – I want to try again, doesn’t hurt anymore.” You blabber incoherently, trying to open your legs for him. Reminded of the pain that he brought you, Ralak shakes his head, closing your legs gently and covering you with the sheet. Snuggling into his warm chest, your eyes fall shut for the night.

“Another day.” Ralak whispers, planting a soft kiss on your forehead.

Unable to sleep, he spends the rest of the night swigging straight from the bottle, bathing, and checking up on you. You’d wake every so often to him parting your legs, checking to see if you were alright.

He thought nothing of it, just one of his duties as your mate to care for you. But you’d be quick to shove away his hand, mumbling to him not to look despite the coy smile on your face, all from knowing he cares that much.

When he finished the bottle, he was woozy enough to crawl back into bed with you and snuggle behind you. His eyes finally closing when the first rays of sunshine beam through the marui pod, the same rays that wake you up.

3K notes · View notes

astolfofo · 3 months

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…I had a thought about the halovians(specifically sunday) and want to know peoples opinions. do u think he has nesting instincts? :3 thank u for listening to my ted talk.

hi (i did say i was gonna answer this 2 weeks ago unfortunately I forgot i'm so sorry.) But anyways, thank you for your ask, and 100% he does.

tw: non-con, forced pregnancy, dark content. truly the unedited sleep deprived trying to write.

Okay i finished writing this i know you didn't ask for acutal writing but i went ahead and did it anyways because why not hope u don't mind

also excuse the fact that thus was posted at 4am and I was half falling asleep already while writing this.

There were three days in your life that you could have called the worst.

The first one was the day when Sunday took your life away from you, and claimed you to be his "wife". The second was when first time he chose to be intimate. The third was when you got pregnant as a result.

Nothing had ever stuck to you like the day after that. You felt like washing the sheets until your hands would bleed. You wanted to submerge yourself in bleach until every fiber of your body burned, shriveled up, and died.

You wanted to forget that it happened. That the events in the previous night ever happened at all.

But the soreness between your legs was a constant reminder. And even though the pain went away after a few days, it was replaced by something much worse. Something you feared.

You saw the signs from the second you got them. Your body felt heavy. You were constantly tired. You had lost interest in eating. It was obvious what was going on.

And for a few days, you tried to hide it. The longer Sunday didn't know, the better it was for you. That way, you could slowly while away your last few moments in peace before everything was taken from you in entirety.

After a few weeks, you couldn't hide it anymore. You remember staring at the double line on the pregnancy test.

You almost instantly broke down into tears. It wasn't anything that you hadn't already know n, but maybe part of you still just believed you were ill, that maybe there was another reason why you had missed your period that month. That the pain you kept experiencing was just from some kind of illness.

The last thing you could keep away from Sunday was taken away from you that day. The sense of freedom you could've had.

To Sunday, you suppose this was the final step he needed to take to bind you to him. Another way to control you. Another way to keep you in his arms, and make sure you wouldn't let go.

And if you didn't want to get murdered by the press, if you didn't want to further sabotage both your own and Sunday's public image, you knew to take it.

You had no choice but to take it. You were no more than an insect trapped under his thumb.

out of the two of you, there was only one person that was particularly enthusiastic about having a child.

It certainly wasn't you.

Ever since you had first found out about the pregnancy, you had felt empty. As if someone directly sucked the soul out of your body.

You weren't yourself anymore. You hadn't been for a long time.

Sunday didn't seem too bothered by it though.

You weren't sure if it was just his own parental instincts, or whether he could tell that it was almost time for you go into labour. Maybe it was a combination of both. You didn't care. You couldn't care less.

All you knew was that his presence was suffocating. Overbearing. Invasive, even.

You couldn't do anything by yourself. Sunday felt the need to assist you with everything you did. Even basic tasks such as grabbing an object, he insisted that he would get for you.

But what set you off the most, was his intense urge to keep the house in order. You had never seen him having such intense urges to organize a room even when just the slightest thing was out of order. He couldn't stand seeing the slightest speck of dust, he couldn't stand seeing the furniture just an inch out of place.

It drove you to madness.

If you had even slightly misplaced something Sunday you would notice Sunday getting slightly agitated.

From the moment he came home, to the moment he would fall asleep, he spent every waking second making sure the house was perfectly in order, before obsessing over you. At some point you just wanted to wave him off. Lock yourself in the bathroom and sleep for a long period of time, until you had no concept of reality anymore.

You didn't have it in you to keep going. week after week, month after month, Sunday's final goal had always to perfect you into an obedient wife that would do as they were told. And no matter how you tried to fight it... you were always forced back into obedience.

There's two cold fingers touching your chin, and lifting your face up, until you're forced to meet a pair of eyes.

They're bright. Everytime you see them, you can't help but try to look away. They were as bright as the sun, and just like the sun, you felt as if you were going to be blinded jfyou looked at them for too long. You guess it could've also been a sentiment to the power he held over you too.

"Dear, did you hear a word I just said?"

It's an obvious answer. But, you know better by now just to answer the question. You slightly shake your head, which supposedly satisfied him enough, to let go of the fi gers holding your head up.

He sighs, you're not sure in annoyance or in disappointment.

"If you keep acting like this, I'm going to need to resort to drastic measures..."

You look at him one more time. You remember how when you first saw him, you thought of him to be beautiful. To be almost ethereal.

You regret falling into that hypnosis. You regret looking at him at all.

Look at where it got you.

#yandere sunday x reader #yandere sunday #sunday x reader #sunday smut #yandere hsr #yandere x reader #hsr smut #hsr x reader #sorry if i butchered your ask its like. late rn. 💀

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whiskeyskin · 2 months

Text

Goddesses and Mortals

Premise: After the events of Love and Longing, Gale finds out that his feelings are reciprocated.. and that's not all.. 😳🍑🫵

Accidental sequel to a previous fic cause I can't get this lonely Wizard out of my head without the promise of a potentially happy ending 🥹 in more ways than one 😏🍆

Gale x gn!tav • 18+ • E/M rating • MDNI

Gale POV, reader referred to as 'you', no specific mention of gentials or gender, porn with plot?, Mystra can fuck right off, fantasies becoming reality, longing, love, tenderness, mutual masturbation, anal fingering (M receiving), unabashed consent, mild cum swapping, minor sub/dom energy, marking if you squint

5.3k words

Special thanks to @senualothbrok for nestling this tadpole in my brain for Gale to get the real deal one day.. 💜

And at it again @spellbooking with another beautiful gif of our Rizzard ☺️ Thank you! 💜

Gale was close, very close.

He had to hurry, the party would all be rising from camp soon. Though there was no sunlight in this desolate place, a full rest was almost upon him.

Safely secluded in the abandoned house on the far reaches of camp; sweat damp on his brow, his hand slick with salvia, Gale feverishly pumped his length in quick bursts.

Your illusion image looked up at him through lidded eyes licking your bottom lip hungrily and growling a hedonistic moan.

"Gale.." you whimpered, the voice distorted.

"Yes, love.. I'm going to come for you.. only for you.. come with me." He bit out, on the precipice of orgasm.

Suddenly, a faint lilting of rosewater assailed his nose and stopped him dead.

A cold dread filled his body, incapacitating his lungs.

Mystra.

It couldn't be.

Surely not.

Not here.

Not now.

Why right now for hell's sake?

He'd not felt her presence since she'd tried to wedge herself between you both when you'd shared a moment of magic in camp.

Despite their separation, she still checked in on her disgraced former chosen and lover at the most inopportune moments.

Fumbling, he quickly tucked himself away in his waistband and spun on his heel.

Nothing.. but the scent remained.

Had she finally gotten sick of his abusing himself constantly to the fictitious likeness of you, using her magical essence to do so?

Had she been sensing him masturbating at least twice a day since her intervention charm through Elminster?

Was she making herself known to quell his incessant self-gratification, or to participate in it?

Even a tenday ago, that would have been a comforting thought. One he would have relished in, taken solace and pride in.. but this felt wrong.

His sweet nothings he had whispered in the dead of night to "you" weren't for Mystra's perverse enjoyment, or sick amusement, weren't for her for to cast judgement on.

"I don't know why you're here," he called brazenly, "but I assure you, this is nothing that concerns you any longer. Now, if you'd be so kind, leave me in peace." He requested, firmly.

Silence.

He wasn't convinced.

"And I don't appreciate the timing of you little assertion here. Now that I'm finally on a path of some kind of healing, you make yourself known?" He snapped, pointing a finger at nothing.

"You have no reason to be here. You have already spoken your will and want with my life and until such a time that that moment arrives, I will do what I want, with whomever I want. Be they real, or fantasy is no concern of yours. Now, leave." He frowned and gestured finally.

The warmth in the air he didn't realise had been present disparated. He was left cold.

Just like always with her.

"Gale?" Called your voice, your vision now by the doorway.

He looked up to see you leaning on the doorframe, slightly bleary.

"Sorry, my love. I got distracted. Less said about that, the better. Now," he beckoned a crooked finger towards himself, "let's get back to where we were before everyone wakes up."

You frowned and looked him up and down, "Did you just call me, 'my love'?" You asked.

For the second time that early morning, Gale's blood ran cold.

"And what exactly were we doing before?" You irked a brow, looking amused.

Gale struggled for words as the blood that had been swiftly journeying to the south was urgently redirected north.

"I-uh-I did? Must've been a mistake. What are you doing up so early?" He asked, trying to change the subject.

You squinted, "Who were you talking to?"

"No one." Gale answered, feigning innocence.

"Wow, that was convincing." You teased with mockingly wide eyes. You narrowed your eyes at him and he felt a gentle brush against his mind. You were seeking permission. He allowed it.

"Mystra?" You asked with a tense lilt. Gale nodded.

"Thought so, I heard you calling that you were trying to move on and someone was suddenly trying to get your attention again. Is everything alright?" You asked, your tone worried and sincere.

Gale's heart bloomed.

"Yes, since her missive from Elminster, she's reached out. I don't have time for it."

"That's a massive step for you, Gale. You said something about moving on, is that true?"

"Somewhat." He answered in a half truth.

You smiled, "Is she still here?" There was a pause, Gale could see the cogs turning, "Did you want to make her jealous? Is that why you called me 'my love'?"

Gale blinked twice.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, maybe you snuck up here to be with me. Maybe I'm the one you're moving on with."

Again, Gale blinked twice.

How unintentionally right you were.

He swallowed.

"Would that be something you're interested in helping me with?"

"To fuck with the gods? Anything." You purred the last word down the connection at him and it made the hairs on his neck raise like you'd whispered it directly against his skin.

"Then by all means, take the lead."

You irked a seductive brow and turned down your head to gaze through lidded eyes.

He swallowed.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to stare. You're just so gods damned handsome. I'm glad we could sneak away again." You walked towards him confidently, a slight prowl in your gait.

Gale's blood supply had ignored previous instruction and fully marched back south. The sight of you - truly you - saying these things to him had him dizzy from the rush of blood.

"Not to worry, I quite enjoying being gawped at."

"Well, it's certainly no hardship." You wrapped your arms around him and pulled him in for a sensual hug, while he desperately tried to keep his erection from your notice.

"Mm, we have to be quick. We don't have much time until the others wake up." You crooned, wrapping your arms around his neck, "Did the minor illusion keep you warm enough while I was gone?"

And for the third time that morning, Gale's body shot full of ice.

His blood entirely confused, threw it's hands up in defeat for direction.

You knew?

How could you know?

He was careful.. wasn't he?

Your hands never stopped roaming; his arms, his shoulders, his neck.. his hair.. oh gods, up into his hair.

Gale's breath hitched and shuddered.

Oh gods, you felt like heaven. Even if he felt like he was in hell.

"I know you like me to watch you but I've been so neglectful lately with everything that's been going on. Can you forgive me?" You pulled back from him, your face pulled into a beautifully twisted smile, sin pulled at the edges.

"I th-think you can make it up to me." He gasped.

Your eyebrows flexed in amusement up your forehead, "Do you want me to watch you right now? With everyone waiting in camp, drinking tea and preparing breakfast?"

You smoothed your hands from his shoulders to the top of his chest, "Do you like the anticipation of being caught, Gale? The rush of being found?"

Oh gods, you were so close. You smelled so good, like lemongrass and lavender.. and underneath the balms, your musk, your scent. You.

"I would do anything, as long as it was with you, my love." He breathed, unable to contain the emotion in his voice.

Your eyes unfocused for a brief moment, then came back, blinking as though seeing through an unfogged mirror.

A soft gasp caught in the back of your throat; that noise could state him for a thousand nights.

Then you stepped away.

You averted your gaze, and backed away from his arms completely. You shut your eyes tightly.

"Gale, I-"

You opened them, a wealth of feelings swirling but he couldn't decipher any of them.

"I need to get back to camp. We need to get to Moonrise Towers today, with Isobel's blessing we can cross the Shadows. We need to be ready." You nodded curtly and disappeared.

Gale stared after you, the cold air of the Shadowlands around him a cruel but poetic pathetic fallacy.

He groaned and closed his eyes against balled fists, as he pressed them against his eyes. Tears brimmed behind them, hot frustrated tears.

"Gods fucking dammit."

***

Gale had attempted to maintain distance today, which had been difficult considering you'd partied up together with Karlach and Shadowheart.

Karlach had tried to question his glum mood, but he'd simply recused it as nerves of their close proximity to the potential Heart of the Absolute.

"Ah, Gale. If there's anyone who knows how shit it is to have a ticking time bomb in their chest, it's me. Come and speak to me sometime mate, yeah? We can talk about it."

"Karlach, you're truly a soul that steels my own. I may just take you up on that."

A firm nod and a beaming smile from Karlach ended the conversation as they entered this Balthazar's chamber, after which none of them really had the stomach for food that night.

Wyll had stepped up and made a hearty bowl of vegetable and meat stew. It was nothing on his own cooking, of course but it was a valiant attempt.

Needed a little more pepper.

You sat nursing your bowl, generally making conversation around the fire. Halsin had joined you back from Last Light with no new news of the catatonic lost soul, apart from that he kept singing. A lute of significance to him had been added to your list of items to retrieve; an ever growing list.

Gale swallowed a mouthful and risked a glance towards you, your eyes met for a brief moment before you looked away, uncomfortable. His heart sank.

He'd truly ruined any chance of friendship after his desperate behaviour this morning. You'd barely spoken two words together all day, and now you wouldn't look him in the eye.

He excused himself for an early night and retreated to his tent. He lit his candles and pulled out one of the many books he'd picked up along today's excursions around Moonrise, hoping that one of them would point them towards the heart.

***

The noise around the campfire grew weary as he poured over his readings. Various 'goodnights' alerted him to the potentially late hour.

Gale sighed and rubbed his eyes, he conjured a bookmark, closed it and drained his glass of wine.

Now that he'd been pulled from his focus, he realised how tired he was. Physically drained from a gruelling day of emotional turbulence.

Rosewater gently lilted under his nose, he snorted it back out.

"Oh for the love of-! Bugger off!" He spat through a whisper.

"I'm sorry." Came your voice from behind him.

He spun around on his knees to see you hastily trying to leave his tent.

"No!" Called a little too loudly, reaching out across the space, "Not you. I didn't mean you."

You stopped, looking back at him for the first time since the morning. The soft glow of the candles illuminating your wonderful face, his heart squeezed uncomfortably.

"I assume she's back again, then?" You asked through terse lips, glancing around the low lit interior of his tent.

"Where rosewater is, Mystra's sure to follow. What can I do for you?" Gale asked, shaking off the lingering of his former lover.

"I-," you started, wringing your hands, "I wanted to apologise for this morning."

Gale blinked.

You wanted to apologise?

"What for?" He questioned his tone incredulous.

"For it all. I embarrassed you, I embarrassed myself.. I acted poorly. I thought it would be a good way to show that I knew what you'd been doing-with the minor illusions." Gale's eyes widened. He'd been attempting to solve that one today.

"H-How did you find out?"

"I'd cast Detect Thoughts on Jaheria when we met her at the Inn, and it lasts all day. I heard you when I was laying down to rest. All the things you wanted to do." You swallowed thickly, and a jolt of excitement shot it's way through his cock to his brain.

That was two nights ago.

He'd fantasized about gourging on your sex as you mounted his face, fucking yourself with his mouth as you leaned back with one hand to stroke him. He'd made a mess of his walls, as well as himself.

"You've got a pretty interesting imagination, Gale. Especially since we seem to be ethereal galaxy people in your head." You smiled, folding your arms across yourself, "The one from last night was pretty hot too." You bit your bottom lip to contain more, and swallowed.

He remembered that vividly.

He'd fantasised about spooning you, fucking into you and playing with you from behind. The mirror image had gasped and moaned for him, breathed his name over and over again, as he came to the thought of pleasing you enough to milk his cum inside your clenching walls.

"I thought it was just sex, that maybe we could get rid of some nervous energy together but then this morning.. the way you-you looked at me.." you trailed off, Gale's heart hammered against his chest.

You rest your splayed hands across your heart, "I was foolish. You're not the kind to just sleep around. To have casual sex and not think of it again."

"Like Astarion?" He quipped before vetting the venomous comment.

You tightened your lip, "Kind of." You answered, with a tone that felt loaded with more secretive information but he didn't want to pry.

Well, he did.

But not right now.

"I could be." He postured, looking up at you.

You let out a short laugh, "That face this morning is not the face of someone who can just have sex and not want more."

He hardened his face, "It could be.. if you wanted to be.." Gale irked a brow, feigning a casual air.

"Oh, yeah?" You goaded, leaning on one hip and folding your arms again.

"Absolutely. We could have sex right now and I wouldn't bat an eyelid." He lied, pushing his lips down into a grimace, while his cheeks flushed and his heart pounded against his sternum.

"Really?" You questioned, looking dubious.

"Unquestionably." Gale punctuated with a flick of his fingers, relaxing into his position on the floor, widening his knees to sit back on his heels in an attempt at nonchalance.

"So, you fantasising about kissing my neck, my chest, stomach and hips and calling me "my love" means nothing." You stated, using air quotations.

"Certainly not. Mere sweet talk." Gale shook his head, shrugging his shoulders, while sweat gathered on his forehead.

You kicked off your hip and confidently strolled towards the short distance to him. His mouth instantly dried to dangerous levels of dehydration, as he tried to keep composure.

"And imagining your cock in my mouth, telling me how much you adore me, that isn't telling at all?" You sneered a lip through a smirk and shrugged one shoulder.

"Demonstrably." He tried to remain calm but every cell in his body was panicking, "Do you see me reacting?" He willed himself through words not to show a care.

Your tongue broke through your smirk to rub against your top teeth and his felt it between his legs, he jerked unconsciously.

"You're glowing." You drawled, dipping your eyes to his chest, "Do you even realise the orb lights up when you're horny?"

Gale's painfully stony face dropped as he quickly darted his vision to his chest.

You were indeed correct.

Through his camp clothes, a faint purple hue eminated through the fabric. Gale shot his had to cover his blatant display of arousal. He gave a sharp exhale through his nose and closed his eyes in utter embarrassment.

"This tent has been a purple colour show since Crèche Y'llek." You teased, the sound of your voice curved around a grin.

Gale's chest hollowed.

Gods dammit.

Mystra dammit.

"Oh and also this.." Suddenly he felt something graze along the length of his concealed erection - what he thought was a his concealed erection.

He let out a whining gasp, his hand slapping against worn leather, and he opened his eyes.

You'd rubbed the top of your boot under and against him in his kneeled position, gliding his sensitive member with the leather of your shoe. You continued the rhythm, the gentle friction was delicious, he gasped open mouthed.

Oh gods, it was real.

You were real.

It wasn't a cruel trick, or a fantasy.

It was you.

Gale reached up to grasp the crook of your knee, you held your gaze steadfast against his own. He began to pull off your boot, your eyes never faultered from his as it was flung to the back of the tent.

Your foot resting on his thigh, his hand still holding the meat of your strong calf.

You took his prickly chin within your fingers, eyes usure.

"If this going to happen, it's just sex. Nothing more." You stated, in a low tone.

Gale nodded, trembling from anticipation.

"I mean it. If you're on a path to self-destruction in the name of a Goddess, I'm not wasting my time with feelings." Your voice caught and anger flashed across your features but tears hinted in your eyes.

You slid your foot off his thigh and slowly descended to crouch in front of him, taking his face fully in your hands. Their warmth slid into the deepest recesses of his lonely soul.

"I care about you, Gale. You're worth far more than what she's asked you to do. Far more."

He poured over your face, so close to him. Emotions that he had denied himself bubbling to the surface; the longing, the loneliness.. the fear.

You ran a thumb to dry a tear he hadn't realise had fallen.

"Say something." You whispered, your gaze flitting between his eyes and his lips.

Oh gods.

This was to truly happen?

He'd kiss your beautiful, soft lips?

His breathing was unsteady, the anticipation coiled dangerously around every facet of his musculature.

Gale opened his mouth to speak, to utter sweet poetry regaling your beauty, your passion, your wit and wisdom but the words would not form, they were stunted on his paralysed tongue.

You were so close.

He could feel the heat from your body, he could see the wisps of your hair moving with his unsteady breath.

You came closer and pressed your lips between his brows, electric tingling his skin in your wake. His eyes lolled shut as he finally brought his hands to hold you to him, press you to him, to feel you finally.

He slid his hands below the seam of your shirt, to feel your smooth and scarred skin, fire grazing his fingertips at the contact.

"I-.. I care for you deeply. I cannot deny this." He began breathlesly, your forehead's connected, your bodies melting together. You sank further into the embrace, widening your legs to fully welcome him between your thighs.

The image of that first night he touched himself to thoughts of you, bloomed across his mind and he bit his lip.

"Neither can I." You agreed, the sound of your voice low and raspy, "It scares me, Gale. It scares the shit into me," you leaned back, holding on to the back of his neck, slowly leading you both down to the carpeted rugs below his bedroll, "Show me. Show me I'm not wrong to feel this way. Show me I'm not alone in this."

Gale shook in head, almost trance-like, "You're not alone-not alone.. I'm with you." He followed you down, desperate not to lose a second's touch with you.

"And I'm with you, I'm not letting you go." You spoke the words against his mouth, it made his mind numb.

"No, never. Never leave me." He mumbled, as you both situated yourselves on the floor. Words bubbled and frothed out of his mouth before he could stop them, "I've been so utterly alone for so long, cut off from everyone I knew and cared for.. and I'm terrified, I'm filled with dread each day. I don't want to die-I want to stay.. stay here." He mewled through the overwhelming emotion in his throat. You increased the intensity of your touch against your brows.

"Shh, none of that matters now. It doesn't exist. For now.. it's just us.. you and me.." you whispered against his skin, he felt it shiver down every vertebrae.

"You and me." He repeated, comforted by the softness in your voice.

Suddenly, your hand grasped his naked cock. He yelped in pleasure, but was hushed by the passionate meeting of your mouth. You captured his cries, claiming them as your own.

His fingers bunched your shirt, his knuckles white, as your tongue swept in to merge with his.

Oh gods.

You tasted like wine, and oranges, and sex.

He'd imagined your taste, your scent.. but this.. the full force of you was so much more intense that he could have expected.

You fingered his leaking slit and he jerked at the sensation, causing you both to make involuntary, open-mouthed moans.

You increased in fervour at his reaction, a desperate whine eeking from his body.

It was too much but not enough. He wanted more, more of you, more of this. He wanted the world to fall away and to be consumed by only you.

Like you said; "Just you and me."

Even though it would be grammatically correct to say 'You and I'.

Your hand wrapped around the length of him, pumping the head of his penis in short, lanquid bursts.. and suddenly the correctness on ones grammar seemed worlds away.

Gale shuddered and knelt over your body, settling himself between your gorgeous thighs, pressing down against your sex, enough to make you gasp.

You shared a wicked grin together before he cradled you to him, desperately kissing and mating your tongues. His hips unconsciously twitching against the friction of your hand.

"Gods, Gale. I want you." You keened against his lips, puffs of air escaping aggressively from your lungs, as his hips drove against you.

"Yesyesyesyesyes.." he chorused, messily thrusting against your palm, "Want this. Want you. For a long while.. even before.."

"Did you fantasize about all the positions we could fuck in?"

A sharp feeling settled low in his gut and he squeezed his eyes shut to close out a threatening, pre-emptive climax.

"Yes, wanted you.. badly." He added, barely able to speak.

"I know, I saw. Sweating and willing underneath you?"

"Yess.." he hissed.

"Slipping a finger inside me, then another, preparing me to take you?"

Another deliciously painful pang shuddered inside him.

"Stretching my tight hole for you, till I'm begging you to fuck me hard and unrelenting?" You growled against his lips.

Gale tensed his jaw to mute a groan from his chest, as your words gripped the back of his head.

Oh dear fucking gods.

You were very, very good at this.

"I especially liked where I got to play with you. Those moans at the back of your throat when you'd think of me on top, or taking charge.. I had trouble concentrating yesterday because I couldn't stop replaying those sounds."

He heard you whisper an incantation, that his lust-filled brain slowly realised was Mage hand, the moment before he felt the cold sensation working his undergarments completely free, pushing them down passed his knees.

"There was one particular part you seemed to be interested in exploring together." You purred against his temple, as you twisted your grip around his plump, weeping member.

The Mage hand palmed at the cleft of his ass and lazily dragged it's fingers up his perennium, sliding towards his..

He gasped, throwing his head back and loosening his tight hips to tilt them upwards in wanton display.

"Oh gods." Gale whimpered, biting down on his lip hard, "Mm-Mhm." He panted in abandon.

He'd experimented with himself in this matter in his youth and in his newfound sexual freedom after his year of self imposed celibacy but never with another.

The magical fingers languidly drawled across his sensitive skin. He bucked and jerked against the feeling of you pleasuring him, needing more of both.

You groaned and rutted your hips against him.

"You look so beautiful like this, I can see you in the mirror behind you. You look spectacular, spreading yourself for me." You crooned, praising him and licking your bottom lip. You looked beyond him to what he assumed was his mirror.

Oh gods.

You were going to watch him like this.

Like he'd imagined.

Exposed.

Hedonistic.

Depraved.

The thought waved over his brain and made him dizzy, the desire swelled low in his belly.

"You're so willing and receptive, Gale. Do you want me to slide these fingers inside you? To pleasure you completely until you can't comprehend your own name?" You asked salaciously, assuring consent before blindly continuing. He raised his hips higher for better access as wordless agreement.

The mage hand ran a soaked finger across his puckering hole but ventured no further without express permission.

His whole body trembled, desire coarsing through his veins, soaking into every orifice.

"Yes.. yes.. fuck. I need it. Please.. please.." he wailed through staggered breath.

"Look at me." You instructed softly, halting your motions of abject pleasure.

With great difficulty, Gale did as he was told. He about exploded with joy with the sight of you.

He'd imagined you, summoned your likeness but nothing could ever compare to this.

The aura of his orb bathed you in a magical amethyst glow; the adoration shining in your eyes, the seductive curve of your lip, the sweat flattening your hair to your temples.

"So handsome.. so beautiful. Look at you, look at how you light up for me.." you smiled, guilding him with compliments as you raise a hand to touch the angry purple mark on his chest, now emblazoned with Mystra's star. "This does not define you. You are not the orb. You are not Mystra's chosen. You are Gale and you chose your own path. You are, and will always be, enough.. just as you are.."

Soft tears fell from his eyes from the intensity of his emotional response to your words and the physical stimuli of the hand gently testing his entrance.

You gently kissed the apples of his wet cheeks, then looked up at him with a darkened expression.

"Arch your back for me, sweetheart."

Gale instantly buried his face against your neck, lifting his exposed self for you.

"Good.." you cooed, beginning a slow pace to pump his cock again.

"Ohh, gods." His whined against your skin, his limit already close.

"Relax.." you whispered, kissing his temple, "Relax for me, darling. Take a deep breath, and let it out. Keep breathing."

Gale did as he was told. With each expell of air he loosened the muscles surrounding his asshole. The need growing to dizzying heights.

Pressure pushed against his rim as the finger glided halfway, he gasped and clenched unconsciously.

"Breathe, Gale." You soothed, pressing soft kisses to his face, "You're handling this so well."

Further and further you pushed inside him, delicious sensation flooding his body. His body tense and limp simultaneously, as the pleasure radiated through him from his pulsating walls.

"Fuck." He barely managed.

He kissed your neck and sucked down on the bite marks left by Astarion. He would make his own mark on you. One that everyone would see.

You gasped, your breath catching as you rolled your hips against him, teeth lightly nipping at his ear lobe.

Gale felt the friction of your other hand reaching down between you to stimulate your own release. His urge re-doubled in it's efforts to push him higher, intoxicated by your arousal.

He could feel your desperate movements between you, lightly grazing his testicles with the back of your hand.

You surprised him by gently pinching the head of him and thumbing the slit before initiating an unyielding, rapid rhythm wrapped around his cock. Synchronizing with curling the Mage hand towards his stomach, rubbing over the knot of his prostate.

A ragged, strained noise escaped from his throat as the sensations joined, assailing him from both sides.

He pushed back against the Mage hand, taking it's digit to the hilt.

"Oh yes, that's it. Enjoy it. It's for you.. all for you." You chorused his words to you, the words he used every night to pray to your false altar.

But now he had you, truly had you.. and you were spectacular.. you could not be formed into words.. you transcendend this mortal plane.. you were.. more than Godly.. you were-

A second finger penetrated him without refute and stretched his hole, doubling the pleasure against his sweet spot inside his ass, and he cried out in sheer bliss. Your hand wrapped around his cock, pumping in jubilant rhythm combined with the thrusting of the spell deep inside him.

The precipice of orgasm gripped him like a vice and choked him of all other need, apart from that to cum.

In that moment of blessed eternity, the world was narrowed down to nothing more than you and him. A vaccum in existence bathed in magical light.

Rapture split through every atom of his existence, building and climbing in a torrent of unstable energy.

"Yes, Gale-yes-come. Come with me."

His mouth open, panting like a rabid dog, he lost himself entirely.

He roared and strained and gasped, as he shot thick ropes all over your torso. His asshole squeezed and clenched tightly on the digits deliciously stuffed inside him working his orgasm longer. Your skilled hand milking every last drop from him.

He gulped for breath as you cried out underneath him, jerking against your own hand, breathless and exhilarated.

He watched you come undone underneath him, eyes screwed, mouth gaping, then biting down to quieten your moans.

Dear gods, you looked exquisite.

He reached a hand between you both to feel the after effects of your rhapsody, you twitched and laughed through a smile, as he stroked your sensitive sex in the wake of orgasm, riding you longer like you were to him.

"Stopstopstop-too much." You barely gasped against his sweat laden forehead.

There you lay, for what seemed like an easy age, together.

Aftershocks struck you both as you lay together in your joined euphoria.

The Mage hand had disappeared and left him feeling pleasantly sore from the hectic pace.

Gale pushed himself up onto his forearm, extracating his hand from between you. It was covered in your release, it glistened on his hand.

It was one of the most erotic things he'd ever seen. Something he hadn't fantasied.

He glanced back to you, you also held up your hand drenched in him.

You opened your mouth, clearing indicating to feast on yourself from his fingers. His tender cock twitched with desire.

He reciprocated his mouth and you swept your digits in his mouth. He tasted himself, licking his semen clean, as you suckled your own essence from his fingers, then pulled him in for a deep kiss.

Gale moaned at the melding of you both on mating tongues. It was pure sex and exhilaration. The desire and need. The fullfilment and warmth.

The kiss broke and you smiled at him, letting out a large breath.

"That was.." He started.

"Incredible." You finished.

"That's one of many words." He mused, laughing breathlessly.

Gale pushed himself up higher, "Oh, gods." He snorted, looking down at the scene of debauchery before him and kneeled onto his heels.

You and he were both covered in cum. It was obscene how licentiously delicious you looked painted with each other.

He remembered the first time he'd cum to your image, how hollow and alone he'd felt.

But not this time.

This time he felt complete.

Like a piece of him had hurried it's way back to him after so long apart.

"Well, that's one way to let off some steam." He chuckled darkly.

"I think it's hot." You smirked, biting down on your lower lip.

Gale swallowed with difficulty, "Careful you, that's dangerous."

Gale heaved out a breath and came to grips with what had just transpired between you both. How little his imagination had been able to conceive of you. What paltry figments had been the stars of his fantasies.

He glanced down upon you; hair mussed, sweat drying on your skin, clothes rumpled and he couldn't have loved you more.

"What?" You asked in a quiet voice.

Gale shook his head, "Nothing." He feigned.

He waved his hand with a simple somantic and the evidence was gone.

"Then come down here, I'm getting cold." You stroked your hands up his arms and enveloped him into an embrace that warmed all the lost parts of his soul.

"I meant it, Gale. I won't let you destory yourself for this. We'll find another way." You nestled yourself deeper into the hug.

Gale smiled contentedly from ear to ear, "I know we will.. because now I have something to live for."

°•°•

#bg3 smut #smut #gale x gn!tav #gale x reader #gale smut #bg3 gale #gale of waterdeep #gale dekarios #gale x tav

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justawritterwithideas · 1 year

Text

Boy Wonder and the Rockstar | s.r

✩ previous part | next part ✩

summary: The BAU rushes to Washington after discovering that the lead singer of a famous band may be in danger, causing Spencer to come face to face with his past after 15 years.

general warnings: this series contains topics such as mentions of death, alcohol, drugs, strong vocabulary, as well as talk of heartbreak, disappointment and arguments. It also contains content regarding CM season 13, so it clearly contains spoilers.

chapter warnings: this chapter contains mentions of murder, vomiting, mistreatment, as well as the use of strong vocabulary. this is a spencer reid x famous!reader story.

words: 4,269 words.

a/n: hello! here i come with the second chapter of "boy wonder and the rockstar", i had fun writing this chapter as i also suffered from lack of creativity ( T T ), but finally inspiration touched me. I hope you like it. Remember to read the chapter cautions and have a good read.! English is not first language, so I may have mistakes, if so, I'm sorry. :(

𝟎.𝟐: 𝐌𝐲 𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫.

For many people, memories that are related to times in their lives relate to certain aspects of the five senses, whether it's certain sounds or textures, music that brings them back to that exact memory, or simply tastes of foods that remind them of what their loved ones used to make.

For Spencer, it was smells.

Despite possessing a memory that makes him remember even the smallest detail of what happened the day before, his olfactory memory was much more developed than other senses.

During his childhood, or what he considers childhood, his memories smelled of the pages of old books that his mother read to him and her perfume, impregnated in the bed sheets when they sat together to read some classic of literature. When he was in his youth, sometimes the smells reminded him of the charcoal in his pencil, writing mathematical exercises on white sheets, or sometimes the smell of chlorine, because of the thousand times bullies forced him to go to the bathroom.

But during his college days, he always thought that the smell that would be his favorite was the soft smell of the library, of wood and humidity; but no, those memories had the smell of freshly brewed coffee, cherries and menthol cigarettes.

His good memories always brought smiles to his face in the middle of nowhere, as if he was remembering one of those old bad jokes they used to tell him and he couldn't find the humor in them, or maybe the less thought out answers to such logical questions. His good memories caused his stomach to clench tightly and his chest to feel heavy, as if a stone was replacing his heart.

Spencer knew why. Why his body felt that way.

But he didn't want to admit why.

Because if he admitted it, he knew the only reason he did would make him regret it, he would have to give reason to his sentimental side than the rational side.

And he hated not being right.

"Spence."

J.J.'s voice brought the boy back to his desk, taking his eyes off the nearly iced coffee with a pound of sugar to keep him awake.

He'd been daydreaming about Y/N's laughter in his ear for nights now, just like when they had sleepovers at her apartment. He couldn't get her out of his head, let alone get the smell out of her hair when she was the small spoon.

"What, what's going on?" the opposite replied, looking at the blonde. She seemed to be trying to decipher what was going on in her friend's head.

"I'm asking you, is something wrong, are you sleeping well?"

"Yes." Bullshit.

"Are you sure? Your eyes say otherwise." The black circles under his eyes gave him away.

"I've been sleepless for a few days, but it's because my neighbors won't let me sleep." Another bullshit.

"You should talk to them, you know." The boy nodded, giving the blonde an elongated smile and returning to his paperwork.

"Really all right?"

"Yeah, J.J. It's fine."

"'S okay, you know what you can tell me."

"Yes J.J., thank you."

The answer didn't leave the blonde satisfied, but she made an extraordinary effort to ignore his attitude and return to the desk with Luke and Matt, who had been staring at him for a couple of minutes.

"He's rambling again." Commented J.J as she returned, who kept her eyes on her best friend and tried to figure out what was wrong with him.

It was usual at this time of year, when the leaves were beginning to turn their last summer colors, that Spencer would go blank staring at a spot in the room more than once.

No one quite understood why that happened to him, the only one who knew was Gideon. But he never shared any of Spencer's secrets, not even if a gun was held to his chest.

"Guess whateee, my dear friends!" The conversation was interrupted by a cheerful and enthusiastic Penelope, who commanded everyone's attention with her sonorous voice.

"What's going on, Garcia?" Luke turned to see her, who was coming with an envelope in her hand.

"Your genius did it again, rub the wishing lamp and I got tickets to the best concert of the year - Paradox in Virginia! Can you believe it?"

"You got them!?" J.J. was the first to startle, coming closer to see the tickets for the most anticipated concert of the year.

"That's right, my dear friend! A girls' night out to see Paradox. You, me, Emily and Tara."

"No way, god. I'll talk to Will and rest assured I'll be ready for that night." J.J smiled hugging her friend's arm.

"What's Paradox...?" muttered Luke, causing Matt to turn to look at him. The poor Luke was trying to comprehend what his friends were talking about.

Was he too out of date on pop culture or were they speaking in some kind of secret code?

"Oh Luke, why did you ask that?" Matt shook his head, earning a glare from the blonde couple.

"What did you say, newbie, don't you know what Paradox is? Oh god, no way. I'll have to bring you up to date with a course on what today's music is right now, follow me." Penelope motioned to the boy, who turned to see Matt who was lifting his shoulders laughing.

"No Penelope, you're not going anywhere. We have a case, and it's urgent. There's no time, meeting room now."

The rest of the people turned to look at each other, abiding by their boss's orders as they saw her so anxious and serious about a case.

That didn't look good at all.

The adrenaline and euphoria of last night's show, plus the last two dates, had been enough of a stimulant for Y/N to fall asleep in bed once they arrived at the hotel. Her whole body was exhausted, and at that moment all she wanted was some chamomile tea and a thousand hours of sleep.

She loved her job, of course she did! But she was mentally and physically exhausted from giving almost 15 concerts without a break, from one state to another, with more cups of coffee and energizers in her body than times where her eyes closed to sleep.

And the only time she found peace and quiet was when her body was being moved from one location to another, so, at that moment, her body was resting in the comfortable seat of the SUV after being driven to an interview and returned to the hotel to rest.

She felt her limbs meld with the seat, feeling like she was in heaven itself where her muscles all over her body were relaxing after days.

Her peace didn't last long when she heard a soft call.

"Psss, Y/N."

The, now, blonde heard the call from Felix, also known as the band's drummer and her best friend.

"What? You ruin my beauty nap."

"What did one wall say to the other?"

Y/N could hang him right then and there.

More the tiredness in her body made her think, trying to devise the best answer to get him to leave her alone.

"What?"

"I'll meet you at the corner."

"I'm having the biggest self-control to not kill you because you just interrupted the only moment of peace I've had these past three months, asshole."

"You haven't been able to sleep?"

Y/N denied with her eyes closed, desperate to get back to her attempt at sleep.

"Not a single moment, I woke up three times last night and that was the best attempt at sleep I've ever had."

"Your pills aren't working?"

"They're placebos, they won't make my body calm down just like that and go back to my eight hour sleep cycle that I'd had for the last two years without touring." The young woman opened one eye, looking at her friend. "I just have to get used to it, I have to get back to the cycle of excitement I used to have when it was tour after tour."

"Maybe if we talk about that thing that bothers you-"

"No way."

Y/N knew what he meant, knew it was talking about a certain doctor who gave her goosebumps every time she thought about him and took her back to her college days.

Why was she still thinking about him? It had been almost 15 years since they last spoke.

Y/N looked at the date on her phone.

No, she was wrong.

It had been 15 years since they last spoke.

Today was 15 years since she had received the last letter from Spencer with her name written on it.

The last time she felt the smell of his perfume on the sheets and his ugly doctor's handwriting on a sheet of paper.

The last time she saw written "wherever you are, whatever you do or whoever you are with, you are always on my mind and in my heart, Y/N."

Last time she saw written "Love from Quantico, dr. Spencer Reid. I'm also known as your #1 fan, but only you know that."

Was that the reason she hadn't slept well that night? Yes.

Was that the reason she hadn't slept well for that last week? Yes.

Was that the reason why, every time she closed her eyes, she saw him smile? Yes.

Was she going to admit it? No.

Never.

"Y/N..."

"I don't want to talk about it, Felix. Don't insist."

"But, Y/N-"

"Let it go, Felix. Really, don't insist." Tyler's voice made Felix turn to look at him angrily.

Tyler and Shawn, the guitarist and bassist respectively, shook their heads and made an "X" symbol with their fingers, muttering at the same time "don't do it, don't be stupid."

"Enough kids, let it go. In two days we have a very important concert to give in Seattle, so I don't want any fights."

"You heard him, Felix." Y/N smiled opening her eyes, looking in the direction of Gerald, her manager.

Thank you, Y/N murmured in the man's direction.

Gerald just raised his shoulders, noticing how the van parked.

"Okay, down."

Tyler and Shawn were the first to get out, followed by Y/N and then Felix.

Felix hated to come off as meddling in Y/N's life, so whenever he meddled too much in the girl's life, he simply knew that seeking forgiveness from her was his best option.

"Sorry Y/N, I didn't mean to insist."

"It's okay, Felix. I know you meant no harm, but I don't want to talk about it."

"And when will you?"

"I don't know, I guess when I'm ready."

"It's been 15 years, Y/N."

"I know, but I'm still not read-"

"Miss Autumn?"

Y/N turned to see the receptionist, who was holding a package.

"A package has arrived for you."

"Thank you, do you know who brought it?"

"No miss, I'm sorry."

"No worries, thanks again."

Y/N received it, walking to the elevator along with Felix after seeing how the package had a sticker on it that said "express delivery."

"What did you order, compulsive shopper?" Gerald turned to look at her, causing Y/N to deny in confusion.

"Nothing that I know of, I promise."

"Maybe it's a collaboration, Tiffany's already started putting the ads with your face all over it." Shawn smiled, elbowing the arm of the store's new ambassador.

"A gift for you to occupy at the next gig." Gerald replied, nodding softly as he looked down at his phone.

The box was small and covered in the typical plastic they place around it. Compact enough to drop a set of jewelry on behalf of the brand, but it seemed odd that it came directly and without warning.

The group made their way to the small meeting room where they had set up everything they needed, ready to hear the itinerary Gerald had prepared for them about their upcoming events.

Y/N's fingers went to open the package once it was placed on the table, watching as the "Tiffany & Co." logo on its little sky blue box.

"Okay guys, tomorrow you have rehearsal from noon until three in the afternoon, then you'll have an interview on a radio station near the sta-"

A beautiful gold ring with a navy blue gem in the middle was the first thing that caught the young woman's eye, perfect for the occasion. But it was heavier than usual.

"Then you can go eat and rest, we'll still have dress rehearsal, so you can get ready-"

A shout coming from Y/N deafened the group of people, causing them all to look in her direction.

Her skin was as white as paper, her eyes fixed on the box she had just opened and her face with an expression of pure terror from an experimental horror movie.

All eyes went in the direction of the box, which Y/N felt like everything she had eaten that morning was going to spew out of her mouth right then and there.

"Shit."

The beautiful ring encircled something.

A human finger.

A human finger that stained the bottom of the box.

A human finger that was accompanied by a note.

"I hope you enjoy my gift, my sweet star. I made it just for you, good luck at the concert."

"This morning at the Queen Elizabeth Hotel in Washington, the lead singer of the band Paradox received a package. Inside was a human finger with a ring on it." Emily was passing around the photographs that had been sent by the Washington police, it showed just what she had just described above. "According to the receptionist it was dropped off by someone from a package store. The police questioned him and he said it had arrived with yesterday's load of packages."

"From where?" Luke asked.

"They don't know, they collect packages from all over the country so they don't know where it came from. They're looking for the tracking code of the branch they sent it from."

"How grotesque, who would send such a thing to an artist like her?" Tara looked at Emily, who sighed.

"But what do we have to do with this case?" Rossi looked at his tablet, zooming in on the picture of the ring.

"The DNA results came back to find out whose finger it is." A photograph of a stranger appeared on the TV screen. "He is Bruno Colombo, an Italian artist and the owner of that finger. We just got word that his lifeless body was found in his art studio."

"He's Autumn's ex-fiancé." Penelope commented, surprised at all that was going on. "In 2016, he and Autumn got engaged after dating for two years, but after a few months it was discovered that the engagement ended after Autumn discovered him and an art gallery owner having sex in his studio. According to him he did it because he wanted to make an exhibition that would portray Autumn's true feelings, and this way he could see her feeling of anger and sadness. There are still people who idolize him for that."

"What a jerk." Matt muttered.

"And how come no one noticed his absence?"

" According to this, he was isolating himself when he was setting up exhibits so it wasn't out of the ordinary for him to suddenly disappear."

Spencer felt his heart pounding, why would he get like this over a clear case of a stalker obsessing over a music star?

It's not like he even knew her.

"Apparently, this relates to a series of related cases over ten years that the only common element is this band, Paradox. No one has ever linked them before as none of the modes of operation are the same, the only factor that unites them is the viciousness with which they are carried out and the band, of course." Emily sighed, showing the various faces and deaths that surrounded them.

"Race or religion has nothing to do with it, it seems neither does gender." Spencer commented, quickly reading each of the bodies found. "But it looks like they all had an encounter with the band or one of the members. From 2008 when the first body was found until now."

"The director asked us to take on this case, the level of this band is insane and it seems to be going against the vocalist, Autumn. They are currently on a world tour after two years of no activity, plus not much is known about her in general." Emily turned to look at Penelope. "Garcia, you're joining us on this trip. You serve us better back in Washington than you do here at Quantico. Reid and Lewis will go meet the M.E., the rest of us will go to the station and then we'll all go to the Queen Elizabeth Hotel, we'll meet the band and their manager." The whole group was surprised, especially Penelope who held a surprised expression. "Wheels up in 30."

Y/N always thought that the whole thing about having human parts shipped to you in a box was part of fiction. At best, news fiction.

But what she had just experienced was surreal.

Her body was shaking with a cup of tea in her hands, feeling her hands stinging around the cup.

"Who the fuck would send something like that to Y/N? No one we know is capable of doing anything to her, they would fuck up their careers if they were exposed like that." Tyler turned, annoyed, in the direction of Y/N. "Who did this to you, are you hiding something from us?"

"No, Tyler. I'm not hiding anything, why would I hide the fact that someone sent me a fucking human part on my name to a hotel in the middle of our comeback tour? You're blaming me for something, huh? Tell me to my fucking face, Tyler."

Y/N stood up in exasperation, letting the hot water spill onto the floor.

"I don't know, you tell me, Y/N. If you got sent a finger."

"Go straight to hell, Tyler. Right straight up." Commented the girl raising her middle finger.

"Enough! Both of you." Gerald's loud voice interrupted them, separating the band's strong personalities. "Right now we can't fight. They just sent a fucking human finger to Y/N, we can't get mad about that, we should be worried."

"Finally someone with sense." Y/N sat back down, setting the cup aside.

"What are they seeing so much of us, why aren't they doing anything? They should be looking for the person responsible." Felix got up walking towards the officers, being stopped by Shawn.

"Hey, they're doing the best they can. If we go in there and raise our voices, we're going to hinder the investigation, don't be a dickhead."

"Damn it, this can't be happening." Y/N stood up, starting to walk over to her purse to pull out a cigarette and place it between her teeth.

"You can't smoke in here, Y/N." Gerald's warning went in one ear to the girl and out the other, flicking her lighter. "Y/N."

"What, look at the shit we're in, I just got sent a fucking human finger from who-knows-who and you're asking me to keep my cool!? I can't! There's a crazy person out there sending me that shit with 'nice words'." The girl threw the lighter at who-knows-where, finding herself on the verge of an anxiety attack. "Don't fuck around and leave me alone to have a smoke, Gerald."

The group fell back into the same silence that surrounded them four hours ago, letting the cigarette smoke flood their nostrils.

They were desperate, they needed to get to the root of this.

Y/N knew it. Right now she was the eye of the hurricane, who that box and message were addressed to; the same person who had sent her that, had taken it upon himself to send her flowers and letters with the same nickname, "my sweet star."

At first she thought it was nice, of course it's nice when you get your favorite flowers along with letters of good cheer and best wishes, but it's not nice when you get a gift like today's.

But her attitude would get her nowhere, she was annoyed and exasperated, but they didn't deserve that kind of treatment.

"I'm sorry, but this is too much for me, I can't handle this alone and my attitude isn't helping anything. " Y/N commented, taking her eyes off her cigarette and looking at the people closest to her. "We should be in this together."

"I'm sorry, kid. I got upset that I couldn't help you, that you didn't know who sent you that." Tyler sighed, giving the girl a rueful smile.

"Don't worry about it, Ty. I'm really sorry, everyone."

The girl took another puff on her cigarette, letting the minty flavor cool her lungs.

"The FBI is here."

The announcement made everyone look at each other, taking their last breaths and letting Y/N finish what she was doing, the only thing keeping her sane at that moment.

"I'll see you downstairs, okay?" Felix left a kiss on the young woman's forehead, taking his leave to get on the elevator.

Y/N found herself alone in the room, again feeling disgust rise in her throat. She couldn't get the image of that package out of her mind, how was someone capable of writing those sweet words and sending something as grotesque as that.

The girl's hands gently stroked her cheeks, waking up and she shook her head. She would make one last stop to the bathroom before heading downstairs, so she could go more consciously for who-knows-what things would make her talk.

The BAU met up with a group of people who, thanks to the way Penelope was getting excited, could be sure it was Paradox.

All along the way, Spencer had listened to Garcia's theories and who it could have been. He loved listening to her talk, but his head was somewhere else, somewhere else but there.

Something inside him sensed something, something he wasn't sure what it was. Maybe it was the lack of sleep, or maybe it was his thoughts of the past that had been running through him since morning.

"Agent Prentiss, I'm Gerald Murphy, the manager of Paradox." The man shook hands with the woman, who was looking over his shoulder at three people. "These are the members of the band: Tyler, Shawn and Felix."

The three let out a wave into the air, giving them a smile of sorts.

Spencer knew they weren't entirely happy they were there, he read it in their body language.

"I understand there are four of you in the band, here I see three." Emily looked directly into Gerald's eyes.

"Yeah, Autumn, the vocalist, is upstairs finishing something. But she's coming down now, right?" Felix nodded, watching the FBI agents.

Felix crossed glances with Spencer, feeling that familiar air from somewhere.

Spencer felt that familiar air too, but maybe he thought his mind was playing tricks on him.

"Please, let's go somewhere more private. That way we can talk more quietly."

Gerald motioned to the three men, who plunged inside the room, followed by everyone else.

The BAU settled down in front of the four people seated on the couches.

"If you like, we can wait for Miss Autumn." Emily glanced at the group, all of whom nodded.

"It's for the best, she's the most affected." Felix looked in the direction of Tyler and Shawn, who simply nodded in unison.

"You've never received anything like this before?" Luke directed his question at the group of people, causing Tyler to let out a sarcastic laugh.

"You think that's a normal thing to receive, a human finger? Please, be realistic."

"Tyler, shut up." Shawn motioned, slapping the young man's knee.

"That's a stupid question of his, since when is getting shit like that going to be normal?"

"Tyler!" Shawn gave him a stern look, turning his gaze back to Luke. "I'm sorry, we're touchy about this that just happened."

"My question was out of line, it's my fault." Luke admitted, turning to look at the rest.

"When is Autumn getting here?" Felix's question seemed to work magic, smelling her best friend's signature scent.

A strong smell of cherries and menthol tobacco made Spencer shake his head.

It wasn't time to remember Y/N, it wasn't time to focus on something like that.

It felt like his head was playing a joke on him, as if she was suddenly here. But the smell didn't go away, in fact, it intensified to the point that Spencer could feel his head hurting.

"Sorry I'm late."

Spencer felt his entire body freeze, as if he were turning into an ice cube.

The voice he thought he would never hear again.

The voice that escaped so much in his dreams.

He could hear it there, like an echo in his head.

His head turned, catching the figure that had just entered with some haste.

"Nice to meet you, I'm Autu-"

"Y/N."

The girl looked up, meeting Spencer's hazel eyes.

No way, Y/N thought.

Her heart stopped, as did the time around her.

Standing in front of her was a much older and mature Spencer Reid, but with that same lotion that made her dizzy.

The woman's mouth opened slightly, feeling the air in her lungs catch and no words came out of her mouth.

Her lip quivered, her pulse altered.

"Spencer."

Oh fate, how cruel did you have to be?

If you like it, don't forget to like and repost it.

a lot of love, alme. ❀

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x you #spencerreid #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid x famous!reader #criminal minds fanfiction #it's my first series #almeseries

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my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction · 9 months

Text

Harvest Moon

Steven Grant X F!Reader • Rating: 18+ pals Masterlist• ao3• want to be tagged? | request info • Kinktober 2023 Masterlist • Day 4: Sex Pollen

Summary: Being Khonshu's avatar has some... unexpected effects.

A/N: I'm so sorry. Set before Steven knows about Marc.

Warnings: sex pollen - so dubcon (both sides are effected, Steven more than reader and both had a crush on the other before they were infected), love bites, cum eating, oral (f receiving), p in v sex, cream pie, cuming in troursers, so much cuuuuummmm, typos, please let me know if I've missed a warning!

Word Count: 4073

Steven couldn’t concentrate.

It was strange, a fidget just below his skin. Like every muscle was contracting and relaxing at random intervals.

He took off his reading glasses and sighed, rubbing his eyes to try to shift whatever was going on. Maybe he was tired.

Which didn’t make much sense. He was always tired.

Perhaps this was the accumulation of trying to survive on three hours of sleep or less every day for most of his adult life.

He tried again to focus on the book in front of him, leaning an elbow on his desk. The words twitched on the page, flickered as if they were going to jump up and run off the paper at any moment.

The strange thing was, he didn’t feel tired. Quite the opposite in fact. He was full of energy, jittery as if he’d just downed five coffees made with Red Bull instead of water and a handful of Pro Plus. (Though, he usually steered clear of coffee - for some reason it made him sleepy.)

Still, the fidgety, restless energy seemed to only build. Grow deep in the pit of his belly and squirm around like he’d swallowed live eels that were now making a home in his large intestine.

It almost burned, the blood in his veins boiling from the inside. He stood up, agitated and restless. Maybe, maybe he just needed to go for a walk. Use up some anxious energy, yeah, that was it.

Steven glanced at his phone, it was 19:54, not late. He could maybe walk to the corner shop and back. The fresh air would help. Surely that would put him right.

He stood, fighting the urge to shake his muscles, and put on his trainers.

Yeah, go out, go to the shop, come back, he’d feel better. He’d feel so much better.

“I’ll be back in a sec' Gus.” He gave the goldfish a little wave as he put on his jacket and checked that he had his keys.

That restless energy, the burn of it seemed to increase, grow even as he moved. Buzzed behind his eyes.

Slowly, Marc was pulled forward, woken from deep down. He watched Steven move from the reflection in the fish tank, confused for a moment until… he recognised that energy, those sensations that were running along their nerves.

Panic gripped hold of him as he tried to force his way to the front, to push Steven back.

But… nothing.

He swore and tried again, not caring if Steven heard him, he needed to take control, get the body to the storage locker, steal the door and take those medical-grade tranquillisers he hid under the mattress.

How could he have been so stupid? How could he have lost track of the days so badly?

He pushed forward again, trying to seize control. But it was hopeless like he was separated by a thick layer of glass.

This was bad, this was bad, this was bad, this was so very, very bad.

There was a small breeze, cool air that made Steven turn, look over his shoulder and glance about the flat for a window he had left open. Nothing.

Marc swore loudly. This was Khonshu’s doing. It had to be.

The god had been uncharacteristically silent the last few days, and quiet the previous couple of weeks. Luring Marc into a false sense of security and letting him give more and more time up to Steven.

Poor Steven, who had no idea what he was in store for.

The first time it had happened Marc had thought he was going to die. The way his heart beat, his blood burned, every single muscle crying out at once. He’d had enough panic attacks in his life to know that this certainly wasn’t one, and for a brief moment, he thought that he had been poisoned.

It wasn’t until Khonshu appeared and explained. The phase of the moon at that time of the lunar year. It had been a cause of celebration, festivals honouring new life. And due to Marc’s role as an avatar, he was ‘gifted’ with the effects.

A gift he would very much like to return and never see again.

Khonshu had been… displeased by Marc’s rejection, by his unwillingness to observe the traditions of the old ways. But had stayed quiet when Marc sealed himself away and knocked himself out.

Marc had wrongly assumed that the moon god had got over it. Realised that there was no way his avatar would take part.

He didn’t think he would use Steven instead.

Marc had to take control, had to stop him from going outside, from running into other people and experiencing the effects. He tried to push forward again to no avail as Steven stepped out of the flat, his mind buzzing.

Steven blinked heavily, trying to shift the little spots of light that had started to dance just at the very corners of his vision. He fumbled with his keys for a second, sweat beading on his forehead. When had the corridor become so hot? He pulled at his collar, trying to cool himself.

There was a warmth growing in his lower stomach, and heavy an uncomfortable weight, like lead straining at his muscles. He needed… something. There was an odd carving at the back of his throat, a constriction of his windpipe that seemed to pull at-

“Hi Steven.”

He turned suddenly, his body moving well before his mind had even caught up.

You smiled at him from the other side of the corridor as you stood outside your flat, your bag pulled over your shoulder, keys in hand.

Oh no, oh no, oh no, no, no. Marc screamed inside the headspace. Not you, not you, anyone but you.

You had moved in a little over three months ago. Had smiled and chatted briefly with Steven when you both ran into each other in the lift.

It was only four weeks ago when Steven had found himself outside in the streets of London late at night (sleepwalking again). He had managed to get back to the flat with the help of city mapper and it was only when he was outside the block of flats that he realised he didn’t have his keys.

After a few nervous minutes, he had pressed your buzzer with shaking hands and stumbled out an apology. To his absolute shock and dizzying relief, you can come down to let him in with a kind smile. You had even invited him into your own home while he waited for the 24 locksmith to arrive. Served him cups of tea and vegan shortbread biscuits while you both talked.

Steven had been quietly remorseful when the locksmith finally arrived.

As he was leaving you had invited him to a live music event you were going to at the Fox and Firkin, but sadly Steven had been working that weekend.

He had been steadily working up the courage to ask you out, something casual. Relaxed. Informal. So you both could talk and maybe he would get a chance to judge your interest on a proper date. But the longer he left it, the more awkward it seemed. The more nights he spent in the shower fisting his palm and moaning your name behind his hand.

Marc pressed harder against the mental block, swearing under his breath as he fought for control.

Steven’s pulse quickened, heat prickling all over his skin as blood rushed downwards. He swallowed, the embarrassment that he would normally experience completely swept away by a deep mind-numbing ache. “Hi.” He whispered.

You frown a little. He looked like he was in a daze, his skin flushed and pupils wide. “You okay?”

The softness in your voice, the genuine concern for him made Steven snap. A small growl escaped his chest. It was like all his senses had heightened and pinpointed, narrowed. He needed you.

“Ste-”

He moves faster than you thought possible, surging forward and pinning you to the wall with a bruising strength that knocks the air from your lungs. You don’t even have time to gasp before his lips are on yours, his hands on your waist as he pushes his thigh between your legs.

You murmur his name into his mouth, your surprise cut off by the glide of his tongue and how his body presses into yours.

Marc smacks against the barrier fruitlessly, unable to do much more than watch as Steven’s sensations begin to bleed into his own muscles.

Steven’s skin is feverish, heat rolling off him in waves as he grinds against you. The hard outline of his cock presses against your stomach, you can almost feel his rapid heartbeat through the denim of his jeans.

Instinctively you react to him, grabbing hold of his shoulder and neck as you kiss him back and slide your tongue against his as he kisses you greedily. For a second you’re sure you're dreaming. It’s the only possible explanation. There’s no way that your lovely, and seemingly oblivious to your every attempt at flirting, neighbour would suddenly jump you on a Thursday night and snog the life out of you.

You pull at his hair, lightly at first, but increasing the pressure when that does nothing. You barely manage to yank his head back an inch before his lips are on yours again, all tongue and teeth as he nips a trail down to your jaw and sucks a messy bruise just below your ear.

Somehow you manage to hold down your whimpered moan and speak, “Steven, what’s… I mean-oh shit-” You cut yourself off, biting down on your lip as his hand slide up to squeeze your breast, his thumb brushing over your hardening nipple.

There’s a faint ghost of a breeze, though from where you’re not sure. For a second a small wave of dizziness and heat run across your skin.

“Steven,” you try again even though you're pressing up against his every touch eagerly. “What’s going on?”

He groans against your neck. “I’m-I’m so sorry, I don’t know, I can’t, I need you so badly, I just,” he tries to halt his movements, to take his hands off your body, but the second he’s a fraction of a millimetre away from you an intense pain drills along his spine. He whimpers and presses closer, continuing to rub his heavy cock against your thigh.

“Did you take something?” You gasp, breathless as you try (and fail) to not grind your hips in time with his. It’s the only explanation, right? Though if there was a drug that made someone intensely horny you were sure you’d have heard about it by now.

He shakes his head, his mouth too preoccupied with sicking more love bites into your neck to speak.

“Do you think someone could have drugged you?”

Steven mutters something intelligible as he sinks his teeth into your skin and a strangled moan escapes your lips. This wasn’t right, none of this way right. Heat, stronger than anything you’d ever experienced before, began to burn in your lower belly. You had a crush on him, sure. You’d happily go on a date with him and be down for more after but this… You’d never been so desperate to fuck someone in your entire life.

It was like you were starting to lose the ability to think clearly, and you were worryingly sure that if you let this go on much longer you wouldn’t have any issue with riding Steven right there in the middle of the hallway.

“Steven,” you yanked his head back again by his hair, using an amount of force that would have normally been painful.

Instead, Steven groaned, closing his eyes as he arched back exposing the taunt lines of his neck for you.

“Love, please.” He whispered, though what he was begging for exactly, neither of you were sure.

“Let’s go inside.” You muttered, rushing your words together in an effort to hold yourself together for a little while longer.

You turn, just managing to struggle out of Steven’s grip to put your keys in the lock and open your front door.

Steven moans as you move, but quickly goes back to grinding against you. Pressing himself up against the swell of your ass and sighing as he kisses your neck.

You practically fall inside from Steven’s weight pushing against your back. But his strong hands on your hips keep you upright. His fingers slip under your top, greedily searching for your soft skin as you manage to close the door before he’s on top of you again.

He pushes you against the door, your chest pressed up against the wood as he pinches your nipples through the lace of your bra. He growls as you moan and arch back into him, your nails digging into the wood grain.

He ruts against your ass, rubbing his clothed erection against your soft flesh with a burning vigour. The weeping head of his cock is soaking into his boxers, but he can’t stop himself, can’t break away for a single moment, can’t spare the few seconds it would take to undress.

His little gasps and whimpers of air as he picks up his pace sends a flood of heat to your core and you gasp as he bites down on your neck hard. His left hand continues to squeeze your breast while his right snakes down and pushes under your leggings and underwear.

There is the tiniest voice in the back of your head, a worry that you would normally have that things are going too fast, but Steven’s moans in your ears, the feeling of his hands on you drowns everything out.

He presses his forefinger against your clit and moans at the wetness that he finds between your legs. Quickly, he circles your bundle of nerves over and over in time with the manic grind of his hips.

His breathing stutters. Just being pressed up against you like this is too good, the burning along his veins turning into molten lava as he continues to buck like his life depended on it.

The coil in his stomach starts to tighten uncontrollably, pressure at the base of his spine exploding outwards and-

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” He moans loudly as he cums in his trousers, the pleasure whiting out all other thoughts as his hips falter.

You slow your movements down, coming to a stop as Steven breaths hard against your back. You open your mouth to speak, to ask him if he feels better. But you never get the chance.

In a blur he’s spinning you around, kissing your mouth harshly enough to knock your head back against the door with a thud. You barely register that despite obviously cumming, (the wetness on his jeans that press into you) he’s still rock hard and sweaty. His pulse thumps under your hands, so fast that you can barely distinguish each beat.

He pulls you to the ground, practically lifting you off your feet, and tearing off your clothes as if they had personally offended him. You try to undress him, barely getting his jacket off his shoulders and not even starting on his t-shirt before he’s kissing down your body and shoving his face into your core.

You gasp as he places a long flat lick through your folds, groaning at the taste and grinding his cock against the carpet.

“Steven-”

“Need to make you cum, please,” his voice is gravelly and wrecked, burnt out and desperate but he doesn’t stop the movement of his tongue, ending the lick by sucking at your clit and quickly slipping two fingers inside you.

He curls them perfectly, looking up at you with dark, pleading eyes. Pleasure sparks along your nerves as he fucks you hard with his fingers, watching your every reaction as he keeps his lips sucking firmly against your clit.

You moan loudly, enough that you’re probably going to get a noise complaint, and screw up your eyes, your back arching off the carpet.

The stretch of his thick fingers makes you whine as they work you open, finding every spot to make you fall apart as quickly as possible.

You grab hold of Steven’s hair with one hand, pressing him firmly against you and another low growl erupts from his chest as he pulls your left thigh over his shoulder and picks up the pace.

His tongue and fingers move in a hypnotic tandem, dragging you closer and closer to the edge with a dizzying speed. Your toes curl, your breath catching in your throat and all you can do is just feel that mind-numbing pleasure he is pulling you towards.

His name falls out of your mouth in a repeated jumble as you move against him thoughtlessly, your hips chasing every touch.

Steven moans against you, flicking your clit with the very tip of his tongue before sucking on it ruthlessly and stars explode behind your eyes.

You cum against him with a sob as your strength rushes out of you like a dam has been broken, your muscles clenching around him in utter bliss.

But all too quickly for your liking his pulling his fingers out of you and sitting up. You’re barely back to thinking straight as you lean up on your elbows, about to question him when you stop in your tracks, your mouth hanging open.

Steven groans as he shoves his fingers into his mouth, lapping up your creamy release. He pushes at his aching cock with the heel of his free hand, his hips jerking up into the touch. He looks like a god, skin flushed and sweaty, his hair dishevelled and sticking out at windswept angles. Your cum all over the bottom half of his face.

He gives you a dark look, his eyes almost blind with lust as he struggles to undo his fly without taking his fingers out of his mouth.

You lean up and quickly help him, marvelling at the strength in his thick thighs as he kicks them free of his jeans and boxers.

Your mouth goes dry and you swallow at the sight of him, the tip flushed and needy. Thick and long and you pause. Fuck. He was big, really big. Clarity seems to flash in your mind for the first time since you both went into your flat. How the hell were you going to fit that inside you?

Steven growls, kisses your neck, scraping his teeth over your pulse point and already edging forward as you lift up his t-shirt over his head.

Being away from you for a second hurts. Makes his stomach twist and nerves scream. His dick twitches impatiently, already smearing precum (and his release from before) all over your thighs as he pushes himself between your legs.

“Steven,” you start to say. The needy whine in your voice hampering your words.

“Yes love?” He forces you back down and takes himself in hand.

“I just, I’m-oh!”

He’s not even thinking about his actions before he’s already sheathing himself inside your tight, wet heat.

You gasp loudly, grabbing hold of his shoulders as he pushes impossibly deep, making you fuller than you have ever been and still he’s pressing deeper.

You whine out his name in a sob as he bucks against you, pulling out a little before he pushes further in, stretching you wide.

He swears under his breath, his eyes closed, brows furrowed together as he pulls out a centimetre before sinking deeper. Out, in, out, in, out, in, until finally he bottoms out. And it's heaven.

Steven doesn’t even give you a second to adjust to his size before he’s fucking you hard, bucking his hips like he wants to completely destroy you. Needs you to shatter under him.

You’re so full you can practically feel him in your throat, the stretch so deep that it’s like he’s pushed all your internal organs higher, limiting your lung space and not letting you take a full breath.

He grabs hold of the backs of your thighs, snarling as he forces them towards your chest, his fingers pressing bruises into your skin as he positions you into a mating press. His hips never falter, continuing their deep, hard onslaught that hits at a part of you you didn’t know existed. Every thrust sends a wave of pleasure up your spine, so perfect that it’s almost inhuman. Your slick coats his cock, smearing on his thighs as he fucks you within an inch of your life.

“Steven,” you whine, your eyes rolling back as your second orgasm hurtles towards you.

“Fuck, love,” he growls in your ear, biting at your neck. “So wet for me, so needy, I’m gonna break you, I’m gonna make you all mine.”

You moan loudly. Pleasure beginning to drown out every thought. His public bone grinds against your clit, making you want to scream.

“You know how many times I’ve cum thinking about you and what you’d taste like?” He growls as he snaps his hips in a relentless rhythm. “So fucking better than anything I could imagine.”

You grab hold of him, your muscles tightening as his words send you over the edge. You cum hard, crying out as he ruts into you through it.

He snarls as he cums, but his hips don’t stop as he pumps load after load of his spend into you and fucks it deeper until you're completely full.

Your breathing starts to recover momentarily, but Steven is still rock hard and hitting that devastating spot inside of you so perfectly that it makes your head spin.

Pleasure starts to creep back into your stomach and you whine, sobbing at the overstimulation.

“Love, I’m so sorry,” he bites his lip, trying to slow his hips to no avail. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

“It’s okay,” you manage to stammer out as his thrusts punch the air from your lungs. “Don’t stop.” Tears start to form in the corners of your eyes. Too much, but you needed more. The idea of him stopping now boarding on painful.

“Won’t stop, promise.” He moans against your lips, pushing you closer to the edge again. “Fuck!” He pulls out quickly and you whine.

But you're barely given a second to lament the loss before Steven’s pulling you up with him. Your limbs are like jelly and you’re thankful for his surprising strength as he turns you around.

You expect him to enter you doggy style but instead, he kneels down, his hands on your thighs and under your knees, and lowers you onto his cock with a dizzying speed. Your moan catches in your throat as he fills you. The stretch of this angle is intense as the head of his cock presses perfectly against that sweet spot inside.

Steven groans as your walls clench around him, your own slick mixing with his cum to let him glide in.

He places your legs outside of his and grabs hold of your breast with his right hand, kneading and squeezing it in time with his deep thrusts as his left toys and circles your clit.

He bounces you up and down on his cock as he mouths at your neck, adding to the love bites from before, his chest pressed flush to your back.

“S-Steven,” you barely get the word out, your nerves flayed raw with pleasure as he keeps pushing you higher and higher. You’re weak, light-headed and desperate as he growls in your ear; as he plays your body, brings you closer again like he had every cell memorised. “I’m gonna,” you sob. You don’t even get to finish the sentence.

Another deep trust and you cum, squirming on his lap in bliss as your orgasm overtakes you.

Steven swears, bucking up into you and biting his lip as your wall clench around him, trying to squeeze out every last drop as he follows you into that mind-shattering ecstasy.

He cums deep, some spilling down his cock despite how tightly he is pressed inside, your pussy just too full to hold anymore.

As you breathe deeply, trying to recover he holds you tightly, his hips still bucking upwards. His hard length still pushing firmly inside you.

“Love,” he whines, reaching down again to stroke your clit. “Please, just one more, just one more.”

How could you ever deny him?

____________________________________

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poisonlove · 10 months

Text

Sorry... | j.o

It's a story set in a high school and revolves around Y/n, a lesbian student who has faced bullying and discrimination because of her sexuality. Her life takes an unexpected turn when Jenna, a popular and cruel girl, approaches her unexpectedly.

Summer vacation had just ended, and it was time to return to school. The sense of freedom and carefreeness I had enjoyed during the summer was fading, giving way to anxiety and worry about what awaited me in the new and fortunately final school year.

I walked to school, headphones in my ears playing the sweet sound of "Daylight" by David Kushner. The music enveloped me, trying to make me forget the impending start of a new school year, which I anticipated to be as disastrous as the previous ones.

I paused for a moment, taking in my surroundings. Leaves were slowly falling onto the grass, a sign that summer was gradually giving way to autumn. The temperatures were dropping, and the bus stop was as crowded as ever, with familiar faces. Looking around the neighborhood, I noticed subtle differences. The air was quieter than usual, with many people still asleep at this hour. Gray clouds covered the sky, giving the atmosphere a more melancholic feel.

I walked almost like a shadow, lost in my thoughts. A sigh of frustration escaped my lips as I thought about why I should endure this daily torture. Why should I endure the bruises from the taunts inflicted by the popular kids?

The truth is, there is a reason, even though there shouldn't be. I'm a lesbian. It's surprising how something so personal can become an issue for others, especially considering we're in the 21st century. I often wonder how my sexuality could affect anyone's life other than my own. It should be a personal matter, a part of who I am, but it seems that some people are obsessed with the idea that they should judge me for it. I didn't choose to be a lesbian; it's simply who I am, and it feels unfair that I have to bear the weight of others' prejudice and ignorance.

There's a sense of frustration in seeing the world move forward in many other areas but still having to face discrimination and bullying because of my identity. But despite it all, I'll continue to be myself and hope that one day the world can accept anyone, regardless of who we love.

I sigh deeply and shake my head, instinctively biting my lower lip as I walk. Confusion and frustration surround me, but I try to keep them at bay. My eyes turn towards the house in front of me, and a spontaneous smile spreads across my face when I see my best friend, Sofia Carson, coming out of her house with her backpack. It's a relief to see her, especially in moments like this.

Sofia is a girl with black hair and lively eyes that radiate enviable confidence. Her contagious smile and friendly personality make her a special person. As I get a little closer, I see Sofia running toward me with a radiant smile on her lips. Her black hair flows behind her as she approaches, almost as if her positive energy could brighten the whole day. She's my rock in this chaotic world, and her presence makes me feel stronger and less alone.

I remove my headphones and turn my attention to Sofia. "Hey, Sof. How was the trip?" I ask with a smile, trying to momentarily push away the thoughts that were tormenting me.

Sofia wraps an arm around my neck and leans her weight against my body.

"I missed you so much, you know?" she says, looking at me with bright eyes.

"We haven't seen each other for just two weeks," I murmur, amused.

"True... but the trip to Europe was great... I went to Italy!" she exclaims with enthusiasm.

"Is it true that everyone in Italy is beautiful?" I ask with curiosity, and Sofia huffs, nodding several times. Her reaction makes me laugh.

"Yes, it's true..." Sofia seems a bit embarrassed as she bites her lower lip, and I can't help but laugh again.

"And what have you been up to these past two weeks while I was gone?" Sofia asks timidly, and a shiver runs slightly down my spine. During that time, I experienced a panic attack and escalating depression, succumbing to the temptation of the razor blade. Unconsciously, I pull the sleeve of my leather jacket down to hide the scars.

"Oh, nothing special, you know," I reply, trying to smile. I don't want to worry Sofia with my problems, at least not right now.

Sofia looks at me out of the corner of her eye, seeming to doubt my words. My attempt to conceal what I've been through in the past two weeks doesn't seem convincing. Without even realizing it, we had already reached the gates of LA High School. We look at the imposing building, aware that another school year awaits us.

"Oh, did you hear? The new album by The Weeknd just came out!" Sofia exclaims with excitement. "Really? I didn't know!" I respond, surprised and relieved by the change of topic. "I'll have to listen to it when I get home."

A few steps ahead, as we gaze at the school panorama, Sofia returns to the subject. "I bet it's fantastic; his last album was amazing."

"I hope so," I say with a smile. "I like his music."

We exchange a few more words, but soon Sofia is called over by some of her friends in the distance. "Hey, y/n/n, want to come with me?" she asks, but I shake my head, feeling embarrassed. I don't want to add my discomfort to her social interactions, so I watch her walk away, hoping that my best friend can enjoy her day without the burdens I carry with me.

I put my headphones back on, and my smile quickly fades, replaced by the sadness that seems to inevitably return. As I pass through the school doors, anxiety grows within me.

But before I can take a step, two arms enter my field of vision, and I find myself quickly with my back against the lockers. The force of the impact makes me grit my teeth and hold back the tears, clenching my jaw to prevent a whimper from escaping my lips.

The perpetrator of my pain is Asher Spenser, the brown-haired guy and captain of the basketball team. "Look who we have here! And I was hoping not to see you until at least the last year," he says with a contemptuous smile.

"But at least I'll have something to take my frustration out on, you disgusting freak," he hisses through his teeth, his tone filled with hatred and ridicule. As I face yet another challenge in my day, I know I must find the strength to endure these cruel words and ongoing torment.

Asher sadistically laughs. "Without your little friend Sofia? She was always there to solve your problems."

His laughter is like a knife stabbing into my heart, and I feel increasingly isolated.

Then, with a boundless malevolence, he continues to whisper, "Even your best friend got tired of you... do everyone a favor... kill yourself."

His words are like daggers in the dark, hurting more than his physical actions. My jaw clenches as I try to hold back the tears, and humiliation and anger merge into a storm within me. But I know I can't let him see how much he's hurt me. I have to endure.

"What do you want, Asher?" I murmur weakly, hoping he'll go away.

"The disgusting lesbian suddenly found some courage!" he says sarcastically, and before I can react, he pushes me against the lockers again.

A female voice intervenes from a distance.

"Let her go, Ash." But Asher seems to ignore her. He presses my face against the locker, forcing me to turn my attention to the instigator of my torment, Jenna Ortega. She's the captain of the cheerleading squad and the leader of the popular group. Next to her is Cassie, her best friend, who's sipping on a smoothie.

"Stop looking at Cassie, a freak like you can't ogle my girlfriend," Asher slams my body against the lockers again, making me slide to the ground. His violence is palpable as I stand there, unable to react or defend myself. Anger and shame blend together as I feel the gazes of curious onlookers.

"Let her go, Ash," Jenna repeats, giving me a quick glance. Her request seems surprising given her involvement in my troubles. "Suddenly you're being nice to her?" Asher asks, looking puzzled. Jenna opens her mouth in indignation. "I can't stand her, you know that," she justifies herself, "it's just that some teachers are roaming the school, and if they catch you, you'll get detention."

Before I can get up from the ground, a liquid spills over my head. I feel completely dirty from what seemed to be a strawberry smoothie. With tear-blurred eyes, I look towards Cassie.

She then throws the empty cup at me, always wearing a smirk on her lips. Her laughter is malicious and cold, while Asher laughs heartily by her side. Jenna, on the other hand, has a strange look on her face, as if she's reflecting on what's happening.

Without thinking, I run to the bathroom, utterly embarrassed, just wishing to get rid of the sticky smoothie. My day has turned into a nightmare, and the only comfort I can find is in the privacy of the bathroom, where I can try to recover and hide my humiliation.

I dash towards the bathrooms with my head down, earning chuckles and looks of pity from some students who have stopped to witness the scene. My desperate run draws the attention and sympathy of those who see my condition.

I know a place where I can seek refuge. It's a bathroom located on the fifth floor, long abandoned by the school. The walls are faded and peeling, the floor is covered in dust. Mirrors are often cracked or scratched, and the air is filled with a gloomy and neglected atmosphere. It's a place where no one would bother to look for me, an isolated corner where I can hide my shame and try to regain a semblance of dignity. It's my secret sanctuary, away from prying eyes and the torment of bullies.

The first thing I do when I enter the bathroom is take off my leather jacket, leaving just the hoodie and top. I look at myself in the mirror, and my reflection fills me with disgust. Tears silently stream down my cheeks. Amidst the sobs, I turn on the faucet, letting the water flow. I bite my lower lip as I lean down, tilting my head to wet my hair, desperately trying to remove the sticky smoothie.

The cold water runs through my hair and down my skin, refreshing my flushed face. As I continue to rinse my hair, I hear a voice coming from the entrance of the bathroom.

"So, you were here when we couldn't find you," the voice says. I glance at myself in the mirror again, wondering why Jenna can't just leave me alone.

"What do you want, Jenna? You want to pull my hair? You want to dunk my head in the toilet?" I ask in frustration, challenging her. I've reached a point where I can't bear her cruelties without defending myself.

Jenna blinks in surprise, seemingly not expecting my reaction. Her expression, however, quickly turns into a disdainful sneer. Her skin is impeccably fair, and her black hair falls in soft waves. She's wearing a short skirt and a pink crop top that showcases her well-maintained figure. Despite her attractive appearance, her ruthless and cruel demeanor makes it hard to ignore how toxic she can be.

"I just wanted to know how you were," Jenna defends herself with what seems like a gentle tone, although her eyes betray a hint of sarcasm.

At that moment, I smile sarcastically too, unable to believe her words. I know all too well that behind this sudden concern lies another form of manipulation. Jenna excels at making her actions appear kind, only to strike even harder afterward. I won't be fooled by her.

"What do you want, Jenna?" I ask again, trying to understand her true intentions. Her eyes move along my wet body, following the path of water droplets running from my hair down my shoulders and down my body to my abdomen. It's an embarrassing sensation, feeling scrutinized like this.

"I told you, I wanted to know how you were," Jenna replies again, but this time, she seems to say it without sarcasm. Her sudden sincerity surprises me, but I remain cautious. I'm not sure if I can really trust her words, considering her history of cruelty.

"Come on, Jenna... we both know you're no saint," I say with a hint of venom in my voice.Jenna huffs with anger, evidently irritated by my challenge.

The tension between us is palpable, and even though it seems like she wants to be kind now, I can't forget all the pain she has inflicted on me in the past.

I'm cautious, but at least for now, it seems like she wants to stop tormenting me. Her eyes move along my body again, but this time, they linger on my arm. I shudder, realizing that someone has discovered my scars. My breathing becomes irregular as Jenna looks at me with confusion and panic.

"Do... do you hurt yourself?" Jenna asks, swallowing nervously. Her words hit me like a punch in the gut. I had never thought that someone would discover my darkest secret. Instinctively, I grab my jacket and put it on, wanting to cover my scars. At that moment, I don't care that I'm only wearing a top, as I have no intention of going to class, and I'll likely go home early.

Jenna approaches me, looking at my wrist covered by the jacket's sleeve. Her expression is hard to decipher, a mix of concern and confusion. I'm not sure what to make of this situation. I had never imagined having such a conversation with Jenna.

"Show me..." Jenna mutters and, without waiting for my response, takes my hand. Her nails delicately trace my skin before she lifts the jacket's sleeve. It's surprising how gentle she is in this moment. She places her hand around my scars, feeling their texture.

"Why do you cut yourself?" Jenna timidly asks.

"Isn't it obvious?" I respond with venom, anger boiling inside me.

"Listen..." Jenna starts, but I immediately cut her off. I have no desire to listen to her or explain my reasons.

"Sorry okay?" She say.

Consumed by anger, I approach her, and surprisingly, she doesn't move, almost challenging me with her gaze. "I don't need your pity... not after you've shown me your true colors all these years," I say with a whisper, my voice filled with anger.

I don't want her pity now, after everything I've been through. Jenna looks at me with tearful, shining eyes, but my heart is too full of pain and anger to accept her apologies so easily. "It was my only way..." Jenna mutters, her voice breaking, "...it was my only way to get close to you." Her confession surprises me deeply.

I had never imagined that her actions could be an attempt to get closer to me, even if it was in a strange and destructive way. My anger and pain mix with confusion as I try to understand her motivations.

"But what the hell..." I mutter instinctively, unable to believe what I'm hearing.

Jenna continues to speak, confessing her true motivations. "I was... I was so jealous of how you could be yourself without fear of others' reactions... You seemed happy... you were happy even though others looked at you strangely, knowing your sexual orientation..."

Jenna swallows nervously, visibly anxious but continues. "I... really like you, Y/n," she confesses, her words filling the air between us.

I'm taken aback by this revelation. I had never imagined that Jenna could have romantic feelings for me after everything she had done.

"Don't mock me..." I say with anger, my confusion and pain turning into rage. "If you really like me, you wouldn't have treated me that way."

Her past actions, her bullying, and her cruelties had been so damaging to me that it's hard to accept her words now. I'm not sure if I can trust Jenna, even though she seems to have opened up to me.

"Do I seem like an idiot to you?" I ask, watching Jenna shake her head.

"I saw how people looked at you... I was afraid that someone like me would be treated the same," she confesses sincerely.

"Just because you're a popular girl doesn't mean you can't fall for someone like me," I say sarcastically, my anger and frustration still palpable. Her admission is creating a mix of emotions in me, but I can't help but be skeptical of her intentions.

The situation is incredibly complicated.

"I'm really in love with you..." Jenna murmurs softly, placing her hand on my cheek. I close my eyes at her touch, feeling her nails on my skin. But Jenna's touch shakes me, and I quickly remove her hand from my face.

"You could have just been my friend... like Sofia..." I mutter, smiling sarcastically. "Now I need to leave; this situation is really unpleasant."

Without saying another word, I leave the room, leaving Jenna Ortega confused and alone.

And certainly, such a confession wasn't enough to erase what she had done.

#jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega x you #jenna ortega x y/n #jenna ortega #jenna ortega x fem!reader #professor #miércoles addams #wednesday addams x reader #wednesday x you #wednesday addams x you #im sorry

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yessa-vie · 6 months

Text

❝HELLO, PRINCESS❞ — park seonghwa & kim hongjoong.

PAIRING. kim hongjoong x fem!reader x park seonghwa

GENDER/WARNINGS. enemies to lovers (without the lovers part). suggestive, but not really?. cursing. slight yandere behaviour. way too much fucking tension, i'm sorry.

SYNOPSIS. once your superiors called you saying they caught two of the leaders of the Black Pirates, you rushed to meet them at the abandon building they were in, but the conversation ended up getting a little out of hand.

WORD COUNT. 3,123.

NOTE. this is based on Ateez lore, also is an idea it's been going on and on in my head since i learned a bit more about their lore, once i saw the MATZ mv, idk, it just cliked and i couldn't stop thinking until i wrote it down. it was supposed to be more, but idk if i'll make this into a series or not, so there's a lot in the open. let me know if you wanna see this as a series (:

UPDATE: i did the series (here's the link).

IMPORTANT. this is a work of fiction, it has zero intent on portraing how any of the people quoted here are in real life.

The Black Pirates had been a problem for a few years now. Your family has always dealt with the rebels in Strickland, you grew up among great leaders, you were trained as one to succeed your parents when you reached a certain age, which would be four years from now, when you turned twenty-eight. Despite this, you had already led persecutions against those who participated in the rebellions since you were seventeen to eighteen years old, shortly after the appearance of the Black Pirates, led by a group called ATEEZ.

You had already managed to meet them at other times, never all in the same space. They were stealthy enough, they had given up their black clothes and fedoras for a while now, making it harder to find them in the crowd, they started to blend in, wear less flashy clothes, although they continued to cause problems to whoever was around.

The guards were no longer able to keep up with them, their incompetence making you laugh every time they returned empty-handed. Which leads to the situation you found yourself in now. Two of the eight members had been captured, or rather, allowed themselves to be captured. You didn't know their names, the few times you met them, there was never much friendly exchange of information.

All except for one. It was at the beginning, when you had your first direct contact with one of the ATEEZ, but curiously he couldn't fully comprehend your words. His stoic beauty didn't help much with the concentration process, especially when he looked so intensely at any information you provided, even if it didn't make sense to him.

He looked like a statue, a beautiful statue, an ancient painting, just like the ones you had seen stored deep in one of Strickland’s main command centers. The Fallen Angel, an 1847 painting by Alexandre Cabanel, a French painter. You knew that it was a copy of the original painting, but it didn't matter, because it was at that moment that you named the first member you had contact with.

Angel managed to escape a while later. The incompetence of the guards is already irritating the superiors. When the recordings were reviewed, the interaction between you and Angel caught the attention of the supervisors, who put you in the Search and Capture Team for all members of the Black Pirates. Over time, more and more interactions took place between you and the leaders, each time more intense and direct than the previous ones.

Angel, Serpent, Fox, Bear, Lion, Cat, Wolf, Squirrel. Each name earned for a specific reason. Angel and Squirrel were the last ones you had come into contact with, but as always, the guards' incompetence caused them both to escape, but not before Squirrel threw a slight wink in the direction of the security camera, knowing that you would see.

A disbelieving smile painted your lips when you saw that recording. Your eyes now saw the same recording followed by the transmission that had just ended, but now the smile was victorious as you walked in the direction where Squirrel and Serpent were, tied to chairs by iron chains.

“Leave us.”

“But ma’am -”

“Are you questioning a direct order?” At no point did your face leave the two chained to the chairs who were still looking ahead. Heads touching at the back. The smile returning to your lips with the movement and noise of boots against the concrete of the place where you were. “Don’t bother us until I call for you.”

The last soldier nodded before closing the metal door behind you. The cameras used by the two were still perfectly placed, but properly disconnected, the drones had been confiscated, some of the Black Pirates that followed them had been captured and were already heading to one of the confinement locations.

Despite the silence that ensued, neither of the two leaders looked at you, but the smile never left their lips. Your eyes passing through every detail of that space, absorbing any trace they left behind, even if deliberately. Over time you learned that everything was a clue, even if you didn't understand it at that exact moment.

As the boots came into contact with the concrete, Serpent opened his eyes, but they didn't find your figure, even as the sound of the boots on the concrete became closer, the pace was slow, not because you wanted to make an impact, no, that wasn't necessary, what you wanted was time to observe all the possible holes they could put any object into to continue the shitty revolution they wanted.

Your steps stopped at the beginning of the stone circle that the chairs were in, one of your feet was placed on top, a long sigh leaving your mouth as your hands rested on your hips on the leather belt of the special outfit. One last look around before your steps continued in front of Squirrel who finally opened his eyes, the smirk bringing a slight irritation, making your blood boil slightly. They thought they were intelligent, what irritated you was that they really were, but the guard wasn't the best either.

“Good to see you again, princess,” he purred the pet name. Your features were controlled, but internally you rolled your eyes. You knew who they were, just as they knew who you were. There was no need for an introduction between you, not since Angel disappeared from the compound he was staying at. “I knew I would see you again, but I didn’t expect it to be under these circumstances.”

“Don’t you like being tied up and having a woman looking you from above?”

You allowed yourself a sly smile, being greeted by another from Squirrel who looked you up and down, the smirk never leaving his lips, making you want nothing more than to wipe that fucking smile off.

“Oh, don’t get me wrong, I like it, especially if she’s you,” this time you couldn’t hold back a cynical laugh, which mattered little to Squirrel, “but public places aren’t part of my fetish.”

“Funny, because every time we meet you are in public and open places, just like this.” Squirrel refused to answer, making you close your mouth with a small toothless smile, continuing to walk around the stone circle, stopping quickly in front of Serpent, his eyes closed, his head tilted back, leaving the tattoo that adorned his neck visible. “Matz.”

Although you didn't notice the smirk Serpent gave, you saw the movement of his Adam's apple, your eyes quickly moving up to his face, perfectly sculpted, just like the last time you saw him. The brown eyes slightly hidden by hooded eyelids reminded you of the first time you noticed the duality that the leaders possessed, making you change your approach for the third time since you had joined the Search and Capture Team.

“It’s our unit,” his voice was low, gravelly, you ignored the shock that ran down your spine when you noticed his eyes roaming every part of your face and body, his mouth slightly ajar as his damn tongue – that seemed incapacitated to be kept inside his mouth – made small appearances between Serpent's teeth. “We don’t all have a unit name, but we all have units that overlap...” Your eyes fell on Serpent’s tongue that touched the left corner of his mouth, a movement that didn’t go unnoticed by him, causing a sideways smile to appear there. “What is it, princess? Cat’s got your tongue?”

Your mind ignored the automatic connection with the leader you had named Cat, but the millisecond it took for that to happen was captured by Serpent's vigilant eyes, making his eyebrows arch slightly, making his eyes momentarily remember the bobba that you used to take when you weren't searching for them all over Stricktland.

“Why does it matter to you? Are you trying to say that you care about me?”

“First of all, your eyes never left my tongue, so don’t blame me for worrying about losing it,” the lighthearted smile returned to his lips just as the eyelids fell over his eyes, returning the tantalizing look he always had, managing to get under your skin. At your eye roll, the smile only grew, “there are a lot of things I like and still want to do with my tongue, I wish I could keep it for a little while longer.”

"You can barely keep it in your mouth," Squirrel said laughing, it being the most genuine laugh you've ever heard come out of him, being imitated by Serpent, making you watch them for a moment, seeing the duality happen in front of you, the duality which always broke the image you had created of them over time. “What’s the second thing?”

Your eyes continued to dart from one to the other as Serpent stared at you, his eyes wider but still hooded, his smile now shyly present but still there taunting you.

“Second of all, I thought we already made it clear that we care about your well-being princess,” the pet name rolled beautifully in his lips, making shivers run through your body and you martyred yourself for it. Ignoring your body's signals for that simple sentence spoken that way by Serpent, but he – somehow – noticed the effect, letting out a small nasal laugh. “Cute,” he said simply, his body moving away from the back of the chair, his face as close as it's been in a long time, “but I want to know, princess, what are you going to do with us now that you've got us tied up the way you wanted?"

You allowed a smile to appear on your lips, noticing when Serpent's eyes fell on your mouth, using the opportunity to get even closer to him, his mouth mere centimeters away. A warm breath came out of your mouth, and you noticed Serpent moisten his own lips before you turned your face away, moving closer to him, your lips lightly touching his earlobe and you noticed the hairs on the back of Serpent's neck rising, making your smile increase.

“Who said I wanted you tied by iron chains to a chair?” You quickly walked away, boots firmly against the floor as you retraced your steps, standing exactly in the middle of the two chairs, facing the door your team was waiting for any sign of you. Their eyes fell on the cameras that surrounded them. “Wasn’t what you did last night enough?”

Your eyes fell on the two pairs of eyes that were watching you curiously. The security image of Squirrel and Serpent entering a store and destroying the objects there, returning to your mind, the angry screams of your superiors still reverberating in your eardrums, the loss of the work the government was doing, the work and time to be able to replace everything that had been destroyed. To make matters worse, the recording of the destruction they had wrought had already been disseminated, but this was a problem for the Information Transaction Control people, despite their job being Crisis Management, your only job now was the Black Pirates and their leaders.

“Told you she looked tired,” Squirrel said more to Serpent who just nodded, making you roll your eyes at the comment, ignoring when their worried eyes were directed at you, “did your superiors not let you sleep?”

“My job is to catch you, so when you show up in the break of dawn destroying government property,” you sighed, climbing into the circle, standing directly in front of Squirrel, eyes watching your every move, you noticed his movement in the chair as you bent down, hands resting on the arm of the chair, cornering him in some way, but none dared to show any other type of reaction, “I’m the one who has to lose my sleep and go after you.”

“Glad we made your life easier and came here, getting caught in the process.”

Squirrel’s cocky smile made you let out a weak sigh followed by a sideways smile, barely noticing when he got closer to you, his face millimeters away from yours, but you refused to move, maintaining eye contact with him, ignoring when you felt his knees touch your leg, ignoring the way he opened his legs enough for him to corner you this time.

Before you could react, he lifted his legs, wrapping yours around his own, pulling you in such a way that you lost your balance, resting on the back of the chair, before realizing an arm wrapped around your waist, while two hands held your wrists. Squirrel had a small smirk and his mouth was slightly open, your breaths were mixing, making it take a while for you to realize that Serpent had left his chair and was now behind you, one of his arms wrapping around your waist, but before you could say anything thing, Serpent's hand covered your mouth, his breath in your ear, making your blood boil.

“We don’t want anything drastic to happen, do we, princess?”

You could feel the smile on Serpent's lips, imagining it was almost a copy of the smile you could see on Squirrel. Despite the quick head movement, Serpent was faster, clenching your jaw tighter, throwing your head back, using his right shoulder to hold your head in place.

“Now princess, don’t be like that, you know us well enough to have expected this to happen somehow,” Squirrel’s legs let go of yours, making Serpent squeeze you tighter against his body, and you cursed under your breath when you realized how firm his body was, the fit was almost perfect to yours, making any movement impossible, “I love our cat and mouse games.”

Squirrel’s voice was low, hoarse, he approached you and Serpent like a predator. The truth is, you should expect it, Squirrel was stealthy, quick and smart, whenever he had been caught there had been a reason behind it; Serpent was slender, charming, but mysterious, never allowing you to see beyond what he wanted to show you. The two of them together and being captured should have told you enough.

The second Serpent freed your mouth, Squirrel placed tape over it, feeling Serpent's hand go down to your throat, fingers still gripping your jaw, mouth close enough to your ear for you to hear and feel every breath and reaction from him. Squirrel looked at you with a different sparkle in his eyes.

“They sent the drone; we have to go.”

Serpent's voice made your entire body shake, not just because of the proximity, or the tone, but precisely because of the information. A drone. The others were close, the drone was the sign that they were running out of time, again you would lose them, but this time it was all your fault.

“Unfortunately, our time is short, but I look forward to our next meeting, princess.”

Squirrel left your point of view, leaving your wrists to be taken care of by Serpent who finally let go of your neck, turning to face you, a place that was previously used by Squirrel. You could hear the other one walking, trying to memorize the paths they used so you could follow them as soon as they released you and you managed to escape the possible restraints they would place on you.

“I'm sorry, princess, but we can't risk it,” Serpent said quietly, the affection he felt on your waist startling you for a moment, trying to ignore how hot that specific part of your body had become, ignoring the shock that that simple movement caused to your body as a whole. “We’ve already risked so much for you.”

Before you could have any kind of reaction, a cloth was placed in front of your mouth, at the same time as the tape had been ripped off. They were going to drug you, but as soon as you realized, the control of your legs disappeared. The last memory was of Serpent's arms wrapping around you and a murmur coming from Squirrel.

All eight of them were eating dinner that Wooyoung had made, Seonghwa and Hongjoong were hungry, considering how long they had stayed in that building, waiting for you and your team. Both of them just hoping that what they did that afternoon wouldn't cause them too much trouble.

Not that the others would say anything, they all knew how each of them felt about you. The problem was what Nightingale would say when they found out how irresponsible they had been, just to be able to stay longer in your presence, to see you again, to feel your skin and scent.

Almost instantly, a message arrived for them, a small alert noise and the eight were quickly on their feet, their eyes scanning the space they were in while Yunho went in the direction of the beeper, opening the message that was accompanied by a small digital bird and everyone already knew what to expect with that.

“You are lucky that I already expect you to do this and I managed to prevent you from being seen, but I need you to be more careful and obey the rules, not flirting instead of helping us reach our final goal. In any case, congratulations on what you managed to do in the last few days, wait for the next contact. If anything, you know how to contact me.”

All eight exchanged glances and sighs. That was better than they could have expected, but it also explained what had happened when Seonghwa and Hongjoong left the building, getting into the car with Wooyoung to go to the complex. For a moment, everyone's thoughts went to you, a simple exchange of looks between the two older ones said enough, they should have taken better care of you, but time was short, Yeosang had already sent the drone, they needed to prioritize their safe exit.

“Do you think she’s okay?”

Jongho's voice was low, his eyes searching the elders' eyes, seeking some kind of confirmation, that he shouldn't worry, but Matz had said how they left you, there was a 50-50 chance that you were okay, and it was what they wanted to focus on.

“We should have kept her further away from the door.”

“For her to possibly roll over and fall over the railing?” Hongjoong fussed a little and Seonghwa just gave him a warning look, noticing the leader of the eight running his fingers through his hair nervously. “She’s going to be fine, worse has happened and she survived.”

The eight nodded, but they knew it was just an automatic reaction, not necessarily one they agreed or trusted, not until they saw you in one piece, even from afar.

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