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wheneclipsefalls · 2 months

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Little Gift- Feast

Dark Adult Neteyam x Fem Human Reader

Adult Neteyam pic by @cinetrix2 <3

Last Part Masterlist AO3

Summary: Your stubborn attitude isn't getting you much. Or perhaps...too much

Warnings: dubcon/noncon read at your own risk, MDNI, kidnapping, oral, jealousy, possessive behavior, dom/sub dynamics, power imbalance, swearing, aged up characters, etc.

Your one woman hunger strike is not going as planned.

Twenty six hours in and you are hungry.

So fucking hungry you are ready to bite off the hand of the next Na’vi to come into your space. Not that you would need to with the delicately cut berry spread before you. The same one that Neteyam had meticulously prepared that morning. Others may think of it as a sweet gesture but you see it for what it really is- a temptation.

In the same way last night’s mysterious, but mouth watering, meat had been. The beast that Neteyam had hunted, cleaned, and prepared with his own hands. The aroma had been so intoxicating that you broke skin from biting your bottom lip as you stared down at your share.

The first time you refused a meal you expected the Olo’eyktan to throw a fit, flip you over his knee, or even jam the food down your throat but he has done nothing of the sort. Instead, he revels in this little competition the two of you have. Because that’s what it is to him.

A game.

Sitting beneath a low hanging tree as you watch him train warrior diligently, there is nothing to entertain yourself with but the food in front of you.

This strange purple fruit in front of you has been cut down into smaller pieces. The inside looks similar to the videos you have seen of peaches and the juice runs down onto the leaf below as if it’s trying to seduce you into finally taking a bite.

Your stomach grumbles as if it’s tearing itself apart.

Fuck, why did you choose to resist food of all things?

The meals at Bridgehead were the furthest thing from a proper meal but you had always enjoyed scavenging out into the forest for various fruits and vegetables to spice it up. It’s one of the best parts of your day. And now that you’ve had a taste of the wonders the Na’vi can create with them, it feels like locking yourself out of heaven.

Neteyam’s gaze is heavy upon you.

Sending him a fierce glare you make a show of nudging the fruit away from you, even as your body screams at you to shove it down your throat.

Neteyam tilts his head, glossy braids swingings over his shoulder as a crooked smirk twitches at his lips. He isn’t frustrated, and isn't deterred. If anything those lips curve as if they hide a secret you are not privy to. So confident he knows who will be winning this tug of war.

You exhale a breath when he finally turns around to correct one warrior’s footwork.

A thump sounds from your side and you almost let out a scream before you realize it is Lo’ak who has dropped down from a tree. With a sigh he comes to sit beside you.

“Looks like fun, doesn’t it?” He gestures to the group ahead of you, eyes rolling as he looks at them in pity.

“Go away, Lo’ak.”

“Jeez what’s crawled down your loincloth?”

You look at him in disbelief. You will never understand where Lo’ak find the audacity to poke fun at your imprisonment.

“Besides Neteyam that is.” He chuckles and your cheeks heat instantly.

“You pervert! Never in a million years-”

“It’s not like I have to take his word for it either. You’re quite loud.” Lo’ak ignore your heated ears and agape mouth as he notices the cut up fruit before you. He reaches forward and plucks a piece with a delighted ‘ooh”.

Shiny juice escapes the seam of his lips as he chews and it makes your own mouth water.

Suddenly a hand is yanking Lo’ak to stand with a fistful of braids.

“What the hell?!”

“You skxawng! Those are not for you.” Neteyam hisses, releasing his brother with a huff.

“Alright alright. Damn, I was just keeping her company.” Lo’ak mutters, arms crossing over his chest with a frown. “Besides, I hate to see food go to waste.”

Their eyes lock as a silent line of communication strums between them. Eventually Lo’ak lets out an irritated sigh before nodding and jogging off into the treeline. Neteyam’s shoulder’s visibly relax, hands casually placed on those sinful hips as he looks down at you.

“You should’ve let him eat it. I’m not hungry.” You lie confidently, jutting your chin up in pride.

“Is that so, tiyawn?”

His deep voice ripples through your body.

“Yes.”

You go to give him a sneer, maybe even the middle finger, but looking up at him from this angle proves to be problematic. His loincloth has a bulge and it lights your curiosity. Despite all the vulnerable and exposed positions Neteyam has put you in you have yet to see what lies beneath that scrap of clothing. Averting your eyes doesn’t save you from witnessing the smirk that dances over her lips.

Stupid observant bastard.

His shadow looms over you as you fiddle with the strings of your loincloth. And then his braids are tickling your neck.

“Perhaps it’s not fruit you are hungry for.” That simmering whisper blossoms a blush once more but nothing in comparison to the one that emerges when he grasps your small hand and places it along his inner thigh.

He doesn’t let you pull away, not before you can feel the corded muscle and smooth skin. Not before your eyes cave into temptation and sneak a glance at the increasing size of that bulge.

“I know your little body has been enjoying our time together but if you’re good, I’ll let you play with me too.”

And then your fingers are traveling over the exposed skin until the silk fabric is beneath your tips. You can’t even look at him. You pray that this aversion will read as nothing more than pure revulsion, because you don’t know what will happen if he senses your underlying lust.

You can feel him twitch under your palm.

Eyes forced closed and heart racketing at your rib cage, it takes all your power to control the rise and fall of your chest.

And then the heat is gone. Neteyam releases your wrists, stands up, and sends a dark smile over his shoulder before rejoining the group. You want nothing more than to hide your face in your hands and scream but that would only show him your hand.

You need to be strong. Keep your mouth shut, fry his patience, and get the hell out of here.

Lo’ak is right about the training. It’s undeniably brutal and strict. While you stare in awe at the rate the young warriors can scale trees and shoot a target, Neteyam shakes his head and sighs before correcting them. You’ve studied a bit of Na’vi throughout your life but there’s no desire to translate his strict reprimanding.

You do, however, find it hard to keep your interest away from the various rippling muscles and shifting loincloths. You’re ovulating. You must be and if you were only in your bedroom back at Bridgehead you would actually be able to take some medication to tamper down this insufferable flood of hormones.

Still, you are stuck here and a group of nine foot tall walls of muscle are fighting, wrestling, shooting, and inadvertently showing off their physical prowess with ease. You swallow a lump in your throat when one Na’vi male tackles another and you get a perfect view of his ass.

Pandora is so hot.

So so incredibly hot and that has to be why you feel the temperatures rising along your cheeks.

Neteyam’s back blocks the view, a stream of instruction flowing from his lips as the two struggle to get the upper hand. Your hungry eyes start to travel up his body instead but you tug them away.

You’ll be on your deathbed before ever admitting to ogling these men but you’ll drink acid before letting Neteyam catch you ogling him.

Another shorter male’s abdomen tightens as he pulls back an ax carefully. Sweat glimmers along his blue form as focused eyes narrow at the target. Within one powerful swing the ax is chucked from his grip and pins a leaf the size of your thumbnail to a tree.

He sighs before reaching back to tie his hair. The stretch accentuates the contrast between his narrow waist and broad shoulders. And yet you catch yourself sneaking a look at Neteyam’s form.

For comparison purposes only of course.

It’s too risky though to notice the slope of his back or the way one strap of his loincloth has shifted dangerously low along one hip. Or note the way his dark stripes smoothly curve over and accentuate his v line. Because that is something you would never do. You would never look. Would never think about him outside of plans to escape. Never dream of his deep voice with that heavy accent or even think about how it sounds in his native tongue. And you most certainly would never anticipate the view of Neteyam between your thighs nightly.

Suddenly the ax-throwing Na’vi has become boring so you veer the focus as far away from Neteyam as possible.

You shift your body to your left, letting your hair create a curtain to block the view of Neteyam pulling back a bow. It takes a bit longer this time to immerse yourself in these next two who spar with long sticks.

All at once your body is ripped from your spot, legs dangling and kicking as you are roughly set to stand. Neteyam’s arm snaps around your waist as he kneels behind you.

“Do I need to put you in time out?” It’s not a joke. Not when his teeth are skimming dangerously closer over your ear. “I would be able to smell you halfway across the forest.” He growls.

Your thighs press together subconsciously as embarrassment floods in.

So maybe you had forgotten about the Na’vi advanced sense of smell.

“Which I wouldn’t mind were it not for your eyes being trained on other men” The ground slips beneath you and suddenly Neteyam is throwing you over his shoulder.

“Wait! Let me go!” You’re not even sure why you try at this point. It’s not like he has ever listened before. The hope of being heard dims even lower when you see his thrashing tail and feel his heavy footsteps as you're carried further into the forest.

But dammit you are hungry and hot and your loincloth is stained with your arousal so you let your emotions bubble over.

“You fucking brute! Put me down right now!” You scream, nails scratching harshly over his back. It doesn’t draw blood but wow those fading marks look so pretty over his blue skin. Not to mention the beauty of his ass swaying with every step. “I’m so sick of this shit!”

Neteyam is quiet.

So very quiet and it doesn’t sit right with you.

“Open.” He commands but you remain still.

Body frozen as you stand before him, his massive member at eye level. It’s almost as if your brain simply can not process the sight before you. The way his cock is so different from the ones you have encountered with its purplish blue hue, speckled glowing dots, and even the precum that shimmers in the fading light. Curiosity sparks once more and for a moment you consider reaching out to touch it.

However, the real shock is the massive size difference. You are no virgin. Bridgehead does not have a plethora of great men but you’ve found partners in the past to satiate your needs. So standing here staring and blushing feels out of the norm but with the way Neteyam is hung, how can you not?

Even at peak arousal, or what you hope is peak, it’s unable to sprout fully, the sheer weight dragging it to hang lower by his thighs. You’ve always assumed the Na’vi would be…bigger but this….you’d never imagined something like this.

The idea of ever fitting it in your mouth let alone inside of you makes your stomach coil.

Are all Na’vi males this way or is this something specific to Neteyam?

Something tells you that thanks to the Olo’eyktan you will never find out.

“Open your mouth, tawtute.” His voice is sharp like a drawn dagger, slicing through the wind to threaten obedience.

“B-but it….it won’t fit.” You try not to think about your choice of complaint.

Not that you don’t want to.

Not that he shouldn’t make you.

No, you simply complain about the logistics.

“You’ll learn, pet. Now open.” The nickname is anything but endearing coming from his lips now, honey eyes darkening as he stares down at you. This is retribution.

Shaking like a leaf, your lips ever so slightly part. It appears Neteyam is tired of giving verbal commands when one large hand grips either side of your face, pressing to force your mouth open wider.

“You won’t let me get any food past those pretty lips, fine. You will take my cock instead.” That growl reverberates through your body until it swirls into a low seated passion and desperation. Neteyam’s nostrils flare, soaking in the scent of your betraying body.

To your surprise Neteyam doesn’t immediately choke you on it but instead guides your open mouth to his base. Prying your jaw open wider, your lips are smeared along the heated skin. Hesitantly your tongue flickers out.

“That’s it, pet. Don’t be shy.”

When your tongue smoothes out to drag along the length of him you remind yourself that this is something you are forced to do. For survival. For escape.

And you prepare yourself to later bury the memory of your desire and curiosity in this moment. To forget how salty sweet his precum tastes as it dances along your tongue. To forget the way his pupils dilate as he purposefully paints your pillow lips with that glowing substance like it’s your own personal lip gloss. To forget the way his abs flex when the head of his cock is finally enveloped by your hot wet mouth.

But most of all, you promise yourself that you will forget how gorgeous Neteyam looks from this angle with his silky braids hanging loosely and glowing eyes devouring you whole.

The back of your throat is reached within record time. Your gag reflex immediately kicks in and Neteyam pulls out while cooing at you.

“Poor little pet. Not used to taking such a big cock, are you?” You take the condescending words without fight, trying to clear your throat and prepare for more. “But then again I’m sure Jeremy has never made you cum until you cry.” Neteyam smirks and your breathing halts.

You look up at him with wide eyes.

Oh God, when did he find out about Jeremy? A dark twinkle shadows the Olo’eyktan’s demeanor, his upturned lips promising an evil fate to your old flame.

“What di-”

“Down you go again, pet.” Neteyam interrupts, prying your mouth open once more and shoving himself inside harder this time. He doesn’t let up this time when you sputter and choke around him. “Relax that throat for me, tiyawn. I know this isn’t your first time doing this.” He chuckles.

Reluctantly you force yourself to follow his instruction, urging your heart rate so slow as you breathe in through your nose. Inch by inch, he slides down your throat until all you can taste and feel is him. A tinge of soreness already sparks along your jaw but stern eyes whisper the consequences of letting your blunt teeth even close to him.

A part of you yearns to get lost in the moment, let your arousal that has shamefully not disappeared since Neteyam’s confession take the wheel and give your mind a break. However, that is not the Olo’eyktan’s design. He means to drive a lesson home.

“I was under the impression that you simply didn’t enjoy giving oral, not with the way your scent soured every time that pathetic man had you on your knees.”

Your whimper of distress only turns into a hum that vibrates along him. Neteyam’s grins, toes digging into the earth below.

“But now I see that is not the case.” His hips roll forward, hand crawling to cradle the back of your head. “Staining that little loincloth for me. You just needed the right man to fill that pretty mouth didn’t you?”

Your protests are nothing more than high pitched whines as he picks up rhythm, only half of his cock fitting inside yet still more than enough to fill your throat.

“No need to deny it, oeyӓ tiyawn. Your body has been loyal to me from the very beginning.” That hand fists into your hair, holding you down on his cock as tears gather over your eyes. “Even when your mind has a hard time catching up.” All sweetness dissipates from his voice, left only with a hard steel.

“Like today for instance.”

You suck in air as soon as your mouth is empty, coughing and crying as he keeps that grip in your hair. A firm yank has your neck straining to look up at him.

“I thought you would know better, little gift.”

You subconsciously grip his thighs in order to keep yourself standing upright.

“But it looks like I need to spell it out for you.”

Suddenly your mouth is filled again but instead of waiting to let you suckle and explore, Neteyam immediately sets pace spearing down your throat. Nails digging into his toned thighs, you focus on keeping your breathing steady and relaxed.

“Good pets do not stare at other men. They do not let them smell their arousal.” Neteyam grinds out, a groan lacing his words as you feel him twitch. Your throat convulses around him, the urge to breathe through your mouth ever increasing. “Because good pets know who they belong to.”

The trembling in your legs skyrockets as your knees threaten to buckle. Suddenly Neteyam’s grip in your hair is not just there to keep you swallowing him down but also as an extra support.

“Do you know who you belong to, little gift?” A shudder ripples over his toned body, balls drawing up tight. And yet he pauses, keeping you frozen but still stretched around him.

He wants a response.

Nodding doesn’t appear to cut it, not when he tacks on a “and who is that?”.

You go to scoff at his persistence but it’s only another choked cough around him, tears spilling down your cheeks. He hips slant forward pressing himself even further down your throat until you are gagging.

“Say it.” The Olo’eyktan demands. “Say my name.”

He pulls out and airs hiccups through your lungs so fast you almost swoon backwards. But his name is still the first gasp to escape your lips.

“Nete-..Neteyaaaam.” It’s come out as almost a complaint but the Olo’eyktan’s joy is not diminished. His tails coils and flickers at the sound of your wrecked voice.

“Good girl.” That praise wraps around you, head lulling to rest against his palm. “Now come here and let me fuck your throat.”

It shouldn’t turn you on. The crude words are the furthest thing from what you should want but Neteyam’s accented voice purrs them like a lullaby. So dark, smooth and alluring that you find your mouth opening on its own accord.

Neteyam’s grins wider than the night that he first saw you tied up with that pretty bow. You push the implications of what you have just done to the back of your head.

Despite his satisfaction, Neteyam doesn’t take it easy on you. The length of him can never fully make it down your throat but that doesn’t stop him from trying. An obscene wet sound is made every time he thrusts back in and you can feel him shiver.

“Aww so pretty like this tiyawn. Wish you could see yourself right now.” His head throws back for a second when your airpipe contracts around him again. “Crying so sweetly for me.”

His gentle tone is a great contrast to the way his cock bullies itself into the tight space. So sweet in comparison to the way he fucks your throat like you’re his own personal fleshlight.

“Maybe we will have to steal a mirror from Bridgehead soon. Let you see what a wrecked masterpiece you are.”

Even as you struggle to breath and your throat aches, his dirty words burn the flames inside of you higher and higher. You will feel ashamed later, you know it, but for now you let him fill every crevice in your brain. It keeps the fear of Jeremy’s safety at bay. It keeps the reality of your situation from catching up with you. It keeps you as his pretty little pet that is doing oh such a good job.

“Fuck! You feel so good around me, tiyawn. Good fucking girl!” Neteyam’s groan is gravely, muscles along his abdomen erratically flexing and you know what is coming before his warning ever reaches your ears.

With a deep groan of your name, thick seed spurts down your throat. It’s too much to fully swallow but luckily Neteyam lets you off halfway through, the remnants painting your cheeks and lips. Your own thighs clench together as you watch him recover, his impressive physique inflating and deflating heavily with every breath.

Your throat feels like sandpaper as you collapse against him, head nuzzled against his hip as you cling to his right thigh. Neteyam’s fingers fondly stroke through your tangled hair as he congratulates you on learning your lesson.

You almost bite his finger when the next piece of meat passes your lips but this time it is by accident. Your habit of grinding your teeth together when nearing climax is becoming a problem. Three massive fingers tease and massage at that spongy spot inside of you as you drool around Neteyam’s fingers.

The Olo’eyktan chuckles and plucks another piece of meat to feed you.

“Remember to chew.” He says with a smirk when his thumb flicks over your clit and you almost choke.

Perched in his lap, smothering his fingers with your juices as he hand feeds you, there is surely not a better picture of obedience one could paint.

A picture that Neteyam cherishes.

But a memory you vow to forget.

I hope you enjoyed! Thank you all for your support and messages for this series especially! Hearing back from you all always makes me excited to write and update<3 Don't be afraid to let me know what you think

Taglist: @pandoraslxna @neteyamssyulang @tallulah477 @criticallybella @sullybrothersmate @lilghostiequinni @chershire23 @lala-1516 @teyamshuman @yawnetu @puddle-nerd @ratchetprime211 @avatargirly @chocolatechocobo91 @kariz-stark @bunnscoffe @avatarwifey @universal-s1ut @witchsprit @heart-an0n @riri-is-a-girlie @rivatar @minnory @ikeyniofthetayrangi @ilovehobi101 @spicymayyo @v4mp1rr3 @nilsavatar @bambithewriter @quicktosimp @itchaboi-itchyboy @thehoneymushroomhealer @ilytulipse @witchsprit @imwutim @crazy4books1 @thegirlwholoveslivesfanfiction @danniackerman @dayyzlol @justabite7 @krispyjellyfishkitty

Please let me know if I missed you or if you'd like to be removed from the list<3

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woonova · 6 months

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꩜ ﾟ˖ FROZEN STRAWBERRIES

◟﹙ 🍓 ﹚nishimura riki ﹕drabble ﹙ @woonova ﹚

ʚɞ ﾟ˖ written to i remember by deadmau5 & kaskade

ʚɞ ﾟ˖ genre fluff, established relationship

ʚɞ ﾟ˖ synopsis during a peaceful night at home, you seek to change niki's opinion on your favourite midnight treat

ʚɞ ﾟ˖ warning not proofread (kinda)

ʚɞ ﾟ˖ wc 0.5k

rin's notes ! im finally back my people!! enjoy this small drabble i found in my drafts for now ^_-

— tumblr’s algorithm works best with reblogging so plz consider reblogging and liking my posts ! —

You pulled your legs closer to your chest, tucking them securely under your arms, the oversized hoodie that loosely covered you providing a slight feeling of warmth and comfort. The short hairs that were scattered along your bare legs stood upright as they were greeting with a swift and chilly air that escaped from the refrigerator parallel to you.

"Aren't you finished as yet, what could you be searching for so long?" you complained, a bit irritated with your boyfriend's sluggish pace. "Just a minute now, i've gotta find the perfect snack for my perfect girl."

You ignored the rapid pounding in your heart as you watched Niki retrieve your midnight snack before tip-toeing over to you with a huge smile. As he got closer you couldn't help but stare, his radiant smile which came in its unique boxy form, his sharp eyes that had suddenly been forced shut by his wide grin, and his brightly dyed hair with its contrasting ends.

"Alright here you go, your favourite."

Frozen strawberries. A sweet and cool treat that never failed to satisfy you. You left out a sigh as the cold fruit grazed your lips, the sweet juice melting in your mouth leaving both your fingertips and lips with a slightly sticky residue.

"I don't know how you can eat those," Niki stated with a distasteful expression. Sure, he could stomach strawberries, whether it be in the form of jam, ice cream, or even covered by melted chocolate. But he couldn't understand the enjoyment of having a frozen berry inside your mouth. Heck, you couldn't even chew it.

"How can you eat microwaved strawberries but not frozen ones?" you asked with a questioning gaze, your head tilted to the side as a teasing smile slowly made its way across your cheeks.

"Because, warmed strawberries are better. They're so much more softer and sweeter."

"You know, I think I could change your mind." you slowly let out as you inch closer to him, the soft fabric of his hoodie brushing against his forearm. "Nothing is ever going to make me eat frozen strawberries, ever."

As you inched closer to him, your smile growing, you could almost see the pink hue that was slowly traveling across his cheeks in the dim lighting.

"What are you doing....?" he let out in a choked whisper, as if the words were suddenly caught in his throat.

"Changing your mind." you responded in a tone similar to his, only with more confidence as you placed your chilly lips on his. The sugary residue from your long forgotten snack still smeared across your lips, provided a yummy taste that you both happily indulged in. Niki's hand found its way to your cheek as you continued, providing an even more comfortable and endearing atmosphere.

As you separated you could faintly see Niki's eyes glistening in the dark, as love swirled within his brown eyes.

"So did I change your mind?"

"Maybe, but it'll take a lot more convincing,"

"Well you know, i'm pretty good at that."

ʚɞ ﾟ˖ sponsors @k-labels @en-web @k-films

#🖇 . ࣪ my works ݁!⠀͡꒱#k labels #en web #enhablr #k films #enhypen #enhypen niki #enhypen niki fanfiction #niki fluff #niki imagines #niki fanfic #niki x reader #niki oneshots #niki drabbles #enhypen niki fluff #enhypen niki imagines #enhypen nishimura riki

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theblueflower05 · 1 year

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The Sweetest Sylaung

A/N: So I def didn’t mean to write a novel long Neteyam smut story but here we are. Debating on making this a mini series. Also the anon that requested a “curvy” reader insert- here ya go!(she’s also an Augustine- buttttt you can only see that if you squint lol)

Word Count: 6k+

Warnings: This is smut. Pure smut. Please don’t read if it is not your jam. You are in charge of cultivating your own online experience, you’ve been warned!

Pairing: Aged Up! Neteyam x Human!Curvy!Reader

Summary: After an “accidental” romp in the forest, you do your best to avoid Neteyam. It’s for everyone’s good, or so you’ve convinced yourself.

“I’m begging for you to take my hand, wreck my plans. That’s my man”- Willow, Taylor Swift

The kaleidoscope of colors explode under your eyes in endless patterns and shapes as you look over the sample of Pandora flora under the heavy duty microscope. This particular piece of the Moons terra had never been discovered before, only blooming at what you estimated to be every ten or so years, under the right monsoon like conditions

At least that’s what you had discovered so far.

The flower, which sprouted into a berry, and then dissipated into a moss like cluster of microorganisms all within its short life cycle had turned into your passion project. You we’re doing your thesis on it, the last step in getting your Masters.

You’d gone through schooling on a computer screen, guided by the greatest minds on Earth that had relocated to Pandora. Scientists of all fields who you’d grown up around. None of them had been surprised when you’d picked up botany. Xenobotany to be exact.

It was in your blood.

The desk your at shakes violently- disturbing your precision like focus. Breaking you straight out of your zone.

“Ugh” you groan, frustrated, raising your head, eyes narrowing at the culprits.

Spider, Lo’ak and Kiri freeze like deers in the headlights of your fury. Spiders arm raised, a wad of paper balled up in his hand, aimed to shoot. He lowers it slowly as the weight of your your heavy gaze zero’s in.

“Sorry, cu-”

“I told you guys, if you cant behave to get the fuck out” You seethe. Your nerves are paper thin anyway. Too much screen time frying your brain something fierce as you focused in on your studies. “Is that not what I said, verbatim?”

“You need to chill. You’ve been so high strung lately. Come hang out with us” Lo’ak suggests smooth and unhelpful. As usual. “When was the last time you left the lab?”

You roll your eyes and bite your tongue, trying not to say anything to scalding to the surprisingly sensitive Sully brother. “No thanks. I’ve gotta focus”

“Maybe Lo’aks right” Kiri starts, her face screwing up as she speaks “Eywa that sounds wrong. Nevermind, My brother is never right- but you should come hang out with us. Let’s go swimming- the watering hole is over flowing from the storms”

The deep sigh through your nose isn't calming, even though you pretend it is. You know they mean well, in the most annoying way. That you’d been buried in books and paperwork in the lab for the past couple months.

Hiding from the outside world within the thick walls of Hell’s Gate.

“Can’t. This is important, Kir- but why don’t you guys head down there? Its closer to Home Tree and its almost curfew anyway” two birds, one stone. Its a smart suggestion- but Kiri’s face falls, shoulders sagging and ears lowing. That look had always gotten you-

“I cant today, but maybe tomorrow? The samples are too fresh and I don't want to put them on ice…But I think Max made those Yovo cookie things” That’s only half of the truth, but luckily Kiri’s always been understanding.

She grabs your elbow in her long fingers and tugs you along.

The mess hall had seen better days, but the large open space still tends to be the meeting ground for the humans that were allowed to stay and inhabit the moon. With twelve foot tall ceilings and airtight exits and windows that lead out to the Avatar Program training yards. Its a common room of sorts, a place where everyone gathers. For meals, for mismatched Holidays. But mostly for gossip.

I mean, what else is there to do?

Like currently, you’re deeply engrossed in the story that Doctor Martinez’s, Xeno-Zoologist is recounting. All dramatics and dirty intimate details “It’s true, they’re gonna bring it before Mo’at and everything”

He’s talking about Trevino and Eital’i.

Everyone had heard the whispers, seen the not so subtle signs. The main Radio Tower operator had turned during the resistance, had fought beside Jake and had been allowed to stay on Pandora- better stuck on a foreign planet then thrown in a familiar jail cell. Trevino’s a cool guy, really.

A cool guy who had been sleeping with a Na’vi woman, apparently. The two had kept it under wraps, really private. No one could pin down how or when it happened,,,but to go to the clan’s Tsahik seeking a mating blessing? That’s major.

“You’re lying” you accuse in a gasp as the table breaks into whispers, all wide eyes and shaking heads. “They’re going to mate?...How?”

“It’s not like it hasn't happened before” Another scientist chimes in casually. Like it’s a known thing.

Which it kind of is.

Taboo, yes. But not unheard of, more like untalked about.

Humans and the Na’vi of the forest had lived in close quarters since the overthrow of the RDA. Jake, the standing Olo’eyktan, just had a little too much homosapien in him. Yeah, he’d survived the soul transfer and fully inhabited his blue body- but he never quite grew out of his human roots.

It had been hard, lots of politicking and good grace shown on both parts, but somehow, like all biomes in the vast perma green forest, all had learned to live in harmony. Most Omitikaya kept their distance. Very hesitant about the human presence. They had every right to be scared, hostile. Scarred by man and its weapons and its destruction.

Others had been raised in close proximity to Grace’s school. Had become accustomed to the nearly two decade long human presence on Pandora. Curious and accepting.

You’d heard about interspecies hookups.

Locker room talks that left your ears burning and your heart racing. It usually came from members of the Avatar Program- It tends to set a precedent, when the quote on quote “royal family” of the Omiticaya is a Jarhead and a native woman.

Na’vi are gorgeous, tall and lean but humanoid enough to be familiar…you’re not exactly sure what they see in humans but you know damn well what you guys see in them.

“How do you think that works? The…physicality of it all I mean. Trevino doesn't have an Avatar. How do they fuck-”

You’re not the only one zoning out from the conversation and it’s lewd turn.

You watch Kiri watch Spider and your heart aches for her. What they have is secret, delicate and forbidden. As a woman with high standing in the clan, you knew that her feelings for the boy wouldn't go anywhere. Couldn't.

When they we’re kids, it was cute. Now that they 're both technically adults, it was just plain stupid.

You tell her of the fact, often.

Kiri tells you to stop projecting.

———

The Sully Kid’s are always late. It’s like no matter how hard they try, they cant make curfew. You throw on an Exopack, hurrying them to the fence.

“Yeah, yeah okay mom. Take it easy” Lo’ak shrugs huffily as you yank hard on his arm. “I’m going, Y/N!”

“Not fast enough you strumbeast’s ass! You’re gonna get me into trouble, who do you think your dad’s gonna blame when you guys end up back at Home Tree super late again? Norm chewed me out for that shit last time!” You man handle the much taller than you alien.

Kiri and Spider a few leagues in front of you, already at the mouth of the giant fence. They’re awkward, not in their usual synched steps. You wonder how much of that conversation earlier had gone to their heads?

You’re bickering with Lo’ak, an extremely normal occurrence. He can be a real douche. and had been kind of insufferable lately. You think its nerves about his impending Iknamaya.

So engrossed with getting them on their way home that you don't even notice him until it’s too late.

Neteyam is a skilled hunter, through and through. The youngest in the clan to ever make a kill. Swift and quiet. Beloved.

But around you he feels out of his element. Clunky and awkward, no matter how hard he tries to play it off its like you can see right through him. Its scary and thrilling, sets his stomach alive with butterflies everytime. This is no different.

Showing up to Hell’s Gate to retrieve his siblings was something he had done since he was a child.

He’d used to bleed hours away playing with them at the scientists fortress, but as he had gotten older and his responsibilities had grown heavier- he had little time for it. Still, when ever his parents would send him out on a one man search party to bring them home, he’d jump at the chance.

At the hope of seeing you.

You’re arguing with his little brother, trying not to laugh at something he said and Neteyam knows. He knows he shouldn't feel jealous but he just cant help it. Cant help the acidic twist of his insides.

Especially when he chirps out his family's familiar call, letting his presence be known.

And watches that pretty smile fall right off of your face.

“You’re late, as usual” His voice has a stern edge. It’s annoying, the role he has to play. Kiri is a woman grown, Lo’ak just weeks away from being the same. He doesnt blame them for the way their feathers bristle, almost viscerally.

“Ah, big brother you didn't have to come all this way to get us” Kiri reassures, patting Neteyam on the chest good naturedly. “We we’re just about to be on our way”

Neteyam notices the way you try to look anywhere else but him. It stings because he cant stop looking at you, cant pry his eyes away from your form.

“You all should start heading back before dad notices” Neteyam starts. His father had been busy as of late, harvest season abundant and fruitful this year because of the heavy rain season “I’ll catch up, I need to speak with Norm”

“What? Dad cant use the coms now, he has to send his messenger” Lo’ak’s nose scrunches a little, always questioning. On a normal day it wouldn't affect Neteyam so much, just a normal jab from his snot nosed little brother.

Not today. Not when he’s stretched so thin. Not when you refuse to look at him but are staring at the side of Lo’ak fat head. It feels wrong, makes his skin heat up to the point that it feels itchy and tight.

“That's none of your concern. Head back to Home Tree. Now” He doesn't normally throw his weight around. But he feels the need to puff up big in front of you “Those are orders. Get out of here”

Lo’ak’s less offended and more surprised. One of his oh so human eyebrows cocks, a sly remark in his throat before he scoffs. “Aye, Aye Captain Kiss Ass. C’mon Kiri let's go. See you later Spider, Y/N”

He deuces up Spider, gives Y/N a pat on her small shoulder and glares harshly at his brother before he disappears into the thick brush of the jungle.

Kiri wraps her arms around you in a strong hug, muttering about ‘swimming’ and ‘promises’. The small impish smile she shoots Spider gives YOU butterflies so you don't blame the way he swoons, before she’s off behind her younger brother.

“I can go find Norm for you, bro. I think he’s still out in his Avv, but Max can radio him back in” Spider is none the wiser. Doesn't notice the heavy tension that simmers on a low bubble. Oblivious, as usual.

“Yeah, sure” Neteyam replies, barely sparing the human boy a glance. He’d feel bad for it later, when he could form coherent thought. When his brain wasn't on Y/N issued override.

Spider chatters, good natured. He never got to see the Olo’eyktan in training anymore. He missed his homie.

“Well, I should be heading back. You guys have a good rest of your night-” You’re already turning on your heels when you make the announcement, eager to get back inside. Back behind the safe walls of the lab- far away from Neteyam.

“No”

Neteyam who stares at you with all too knowing eyes. He looks straight through you like he can see through your clothes, through your thinly veiled escapism attempts. He reaches out, wraps his long fingers around the top of your arm and tugs you back to him. Gentle, but very firm.

He doesn't have to say it- it’s written all over his face. Not this time. He’s not going to let you run away from him.

“Netey-” You start in a whine, tugging on his hold. He doesnt relent, if anything his fingers tighten as his eyes narrow. Dangerous, desperate.

“Just talk to me” it’s a barely concealed plea, his tail twitches anxiously behind him “I'm just asking for five minutes. Please Y/N”

Spiders oblivious, yes. Stupid? No. He doesnt know exactly what's going on between the two of you but has clued into the fact that it’s heavy and he wants no part of it.

The excuse he makes is shit- he’ll just go find Norm. Yeah… he’s so out of there.

“What is wrong with you?” You hiss as you watch Spiders awkward, quick retreating form. Eyes flickering over the empty for now training yards “So much for keeping it lowkey, huh? Could you be anymore obvious?”

“What’s wrong with me?” Neteyam is almost shaking with disbelief “What the fuck is wrong with you? You havent talked to me in over a month. Everytime I make any kind of attempt you bolt. I dont-” He sighs, pinching the wide bridge of his nose with the hand that isnt holding onto you.

He looks tortured. Tired. Run a little ragged.

Beautiful.

“I don't know what I did? If this is about that day in the forest-”

You sigh at his words, once again pulling on his hold. Shaking your head desperately because you can't.

You can't talk about it. Fuck, you’ve been trying not to even think about it.

And failing as you replay the event over and over again the darkness of your bunk. Hyper fixating on the way that his lips had felt against yours. Oh the way that his big hands had worked your body over

“Don’t” you whisper “Please don’t”

You’d never been one to beg for pity, for mercy but that’s what you do now. Beg him to let you out of his tight clutches. Metaphorically and physically.

“You’re all I can think about” It's a gutted admittance, but Neteyam makes it all the same “That night- I can’t sleep. I can barely eat- I’m falling behind on my duties because I keep coming back here. Standing outside this fence and waiting for you. I know you could hear me over the coms, right?”

And you could, a few weeks or so ago.

When he’d begged you to come out. To come speak to him. His voice so appealing that you’d almost caved. You’d had to turn off your receiver. Had sat with your head in your hands for hours as you fought the urge to crawl to him, knees raw and your bloody heart on a platter only he could divulge in.

He shuffles closer, all lean strong muscle. Firm, unmovable. “You heard me”

“Of course I did”

“And you still left me out here” He scoffs, head shaking slightly as his adams apple bobs, his ears are pinned to the sides of his head in obvious distress “I could never do that shit to you.”

“One of us needs to be the adult in this situation” Your voice is as strong as you can make it. Trying to speak reason on to both of you “We can pretend it never happened and go back to the way that things were before. You’re my friend, Tey”

You reach up, stroking at his wrist. Trying to soften him enough for him to let this go. Let you go.

He’s trying to control his breathing, all that training for all of those years for what? One fragile human girl to make him completely unspool? To lose any and all composure he’d worked so hard to gain.

He was always the adult, in all situations. Had been born with a neck cramping crown on his head. Shrouded in pressurized glory.

“If this is me being childish, so be it. Where has pretending gotten you, huh? Look at you, yawntutsyìp. you look so tired. When was the last time you slept? Kiri says you spend days in the lab without resting”

His hands, both of them, come up to cup your face. Huge and calloused. Yet he holds you like you're something precious. A small animal, a rare gem. His whole entire world since he was just a boy.

Neteyam thumbs at the cool glass of your mask, tenderly. The bags under your eyes are sunken and bruised. “Don’t shut me out”

Your body, in its entirety, clenches at his words. Velvet and sincere. He’s a fucking dream. Your head leans into his hands, neck sagging of its own accord as any and all words of protest leave your weak mind.

He makes you so easy.

“Let me in…I dont want there to be this distance between us anymore” He hisses around the word distance. Hating even having to say it “I want to be inside of you again”

Your plump lower lip gets skewered between your teeth, eyes screwed shut as you remember the last time. Your first ever time being full…you’d dreamt of it every night since it had happened.

If it wasn't for the blasted mask and your need for Earth’s oxygen he’d kiss you. Right here right now. He didn't really give a shit who saw or what they had to say.

Instead pulls you into his chest, lets you wind your arms around his lean middle and bury your chest in his diaphragm. Its as close as he can get you, for now. Makes you cling to him the way that he’d clung to every thought of you for the last weeks.

You wish it was lungfuls of his skin that you were taking as you try to bring yourself down from this abrupt shaky high. You dont get it, how your relationship couldve flipped this hard in such a short time.

He had always just been Neteyam. A shameless flirt yes- but that’s all it was.

“Would you like that?” He questions, hands working through your hair. Fingers light and soothing on your scalp. Massaging the thoughts right out of your head.

“Hmm?”

“If I was inside you again?” He presses on. You can feel the tickle of his long, thin, tail as it wraps around the back of your calf and you groan, digging your nails into his back.

“You’re such an asshole. Stoppppp it” You’re embarrassed and turned on and already feel stupid enough, he doesn't need to rub it in. His chest shakes as he chuckles.

“I’m serious. Tell me you want it-”

“Neteyam! Hey!”

The two of you break apart in an instant. You jump away from him as though struck by lightning. Instantly putting enough distance between you and the Na’vi that maybe, just maybe an onlooker might think that the embrace was friendly.

It’s Norm, having heard that the eldest Sully was looking for him he’d come eagerly.

The smile you plaster on is forced and honestly, Neteyam doesnt fair any better. He’s obviously flustered, just glad that his erection isn't tenting his tweng.

“Spider told me you and your dad are looking for me. I’m not intruding on uh anything, am I?” Norm looks between the two of you.

Your arms are folded tightly over your chest and Neteyam is rubbing at the back of his neck, strong jaw flexing as his teeth grind.

Oh yeah, Norm had definitely interrupted something.

Knows for sure as you scurry away. As Neteyam, always so level headed, has to string together words. Stumbling a little bit as he tries to remember the message that Jake had relayed.

It’s not any of his business, he thinks at the time. He sure didnt want to be the one to shine the light on whatever the hell was going on here. Turning a blind eye to the mysteries of Pandora is the only way to survive the harshest terrain known to man.

———

You dont know that though-

No, you’re spiraling more a little bit as you prepare yourself for bed. Brushing through your thick hair and staring out into space as your mind assaults you with all of the gnarly ‘What If’s’

Norm had seen and he had to know right? Oh god, what if he told Jake?

You balk. Lowering the brush as your eyes bulge out of your head.

What if he told Neytiri?

That's actually a super horrific thought. Like nightmarish. You have a lot of respect for the future Tsahik...

…And a very healthy does of fear. She didnt like humans and made it known. She tolerated them only for her husband's benefit. What if she found out that her eldest son, her golden boy, had fucked one?

You’re freak out is interrupted by static, by the beeping of your com receiver on your night stand.

“Y/N?” its Neteyams muffled voice through the device. You’d ignored it once. You should ignore it again…

“Yeah?” you wonder if he picks up on how shaky you sound through the receiver.

“Tomorrow night meet me at the East Gate. Like when we we’re kids” he’s not really asking. Not demanding either. You could ignore him again, but he has to try.

The line goes silent, quiet for minutes on end.

“Y/N?”

You’re so stupid. “What time?”

You can hear the grin he’s sporting as he replies “0100”

“Got it, over. Good night, Neteyam. Go to sleep”

———

The East Bay is on the other side of the large fortress-like building. It's not that it's forbidden, or anything. but it is deserted. It’s where the military personnel had inhabited, and since most if not all of them had gotten the hard boot off Pandora it was empty as a ghost town in these maze like halls.

When you we’re younger; you’d caught Spider sneaking Kiri and Lo’ak in through the rarely used entrance. You’d demanded the know how, if he didnt want you to rat on him for it. It was a rare occurrence, but the Sully children had all been snuck into Hell’s Gate this way over the years.

You type in the codes, disabling the alarm system in order to usher Neteyam into the pressurized, air lock. You’d toted one of the Avatar Exopacks along for him, they’re heavier then hell but he’d need it.

“Hi” you smile, suddenly shy as the tall Na’vi man stands before you.

That's what he was now. A man, not only in the eyes of his people but as a whole. Broad and muscular, strong. Verile. The next leader of his people. You know that he’s highly desired in his clan. Women fawn over him. Vie for his attention.

It doesnt feel real that he wants to give it to you.

You’re nothing special. Not tall and stunning like the Omaticaya women. Even by Earth’s standards you're short, curvy. Not particularly pretty. Insecurity gnaws at you, as it so often does.

“C’mere” Neteyam urges, boldly yanking you by your waist. Pulling you flush against his body. Grabby and insistent, he wants to feel your bare skin. All plush and soft, hes been dying to taste it since the last time.

Kicking himself over and over for not savoring every bit of your body that you gave to him. He won't make the same mistake again.

He’s not gonna lie, the concrete and metal of the walls inside of Hell’s Gate have always made him a little claustrophobic. But he can't do this outside-

His lips capture yours, demanding and needy from the jump. Big, over powering, he swallows your little chirp of surprise. Devours any and all breath from your lungs. Its messy and so good. You hadn't gotten to kiss him last time.

His mouth tastes amazing, his tongue rough in texture just like you remembered. It grates your lips as you suck on it-

“Hey, slow down a little bit” You giggle as Neteyam paws at your ass, lifting you off the ground until you squirm hard, making him release you “Not here, we can't do this here there’s cameras everywhere”

“I don't care” Neteyam pecks all over your face, trying to recapture your mouth as you avoid him “Let them watch, most of those pervs would like it”

And they would know that you’re his. The thought is beyond heady.

You gasp as his sharp canines ghost over the delicate skin of your neck, nibbling on your pulse point “Please- Neteyam”

You firmly push him away, hand on his chest and maybe if you hadn't cut him off cold turkey he would've given you space. Could've pulled away for a moment to let you say your piece. Instead the idea of letting you pull away even an inch is unbearable to him.

No. instead he tosses you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. He hauls loads heavier then you every day, your protests mean little to him. With his free hand he scoops up the Avv Exo Tank,

“Where to, yawntutsyìp?”

Where too is an old conference room. Its as good as any, and Neteyam yanks a couple cushions off the old couch to act as a brace for your head as he lowers you to the floor, flat on your back.

You’re so pretty like this, he tells you of the fact.

With your hair a mess behind you, your face free of that damned mask. Grinning up at him as you rub your thighs together. He wishes he had that camera that his dad liked to take pictures on. He wants this moment of you framed, immortalized.

“I hate sky people clothes” He mutters as he tugs on the hem of your t-shirt. It hides you, hides all that skin he craves.

“You want me to take it off?” You offer eagerly, raising up enough to start peeling the piece of clothing off. You’re bare underneath, completely. Your breasts jiggle as they’re freed, nipples peaked in the cool air-conditioned air.

“Don’t ever put it on again” He demands, taking it from your hands and tossing it across the room. He’s dead serious, but by the way you're giggling you obviously think its a joke.

He can’t help it, he dives in face first. Rubbing against your soft breasts, obsessed with the way they feel. Heavy, pillowy. He drags his tongue across all of your bare skin. From your clavicle to your nipple. You always smell so pretty, but its got nothing on the way you taste. It explodes bright and savory on his tastebuds.

You let him explore, until your spit soaked and shaking. Your panties sticky as your hips search for any kind of friction. “I need you”

“You have me, my love. All of me” your eyes water at his words. At the sincerity. At how much you want them to be true.

You grab one of his hands and drag it down your chest. Past your soft, rounded belly and into your shorts. He grunts as you guide him to where you’re wet and pulsing. Rythmetically clenching around nothing.

He circles your clit, feather light. More of a tease then anything and you want to sob. You’d thought of nothing but this, touched yourself imagining him. “Tey-”

He smiles around a mouthful of nipple,tugging on with his teeth. “I missed you so much”

“Then be nice to me” you plead, trying to shove yourself down on his fingers.

“We’re being nice now? Were you nice to me when you ignored me?” he can't help it, hurt bleeds into his voice. It had been so fucking painful, knowing that you hadnt wanted to see him. To be with him.

“I’m sorry” you whine, grabbing his face, pulling it from your bosom. “I’m so sorry. I was so scared- I’m still scared but I need you”

He lets you cup his cheeks, lets you plant kisses all over him. The bridge of his nose, his eyelids, his cheekbones. You dote on him, gentle and caring and he gorges himself on your love.

“You cant ever do that again, okay?” He shivers as you kiss his ear, running your tongue along the hyper sensitive flesh “If you’re scared you come to me, not run from me. Do you understand?”

You nod, eager. “I promise, Neteyam”

It’s all he needs to hear, that you’re his. That you won't deprive him of your presence ever again. He doesn't know what he’ll do. He’s a little scared of the man he becomes when it comes to you, you’re not the only one frightened by the gravity of your feelings.

“You asked if I wanted you inside me again? Yes. So much. I never knew I could be that full” it’s like you know just what to say. You light him up from the inside. His fingers begin circling your sopping clit again, this time with intent.

It’s blurry, the fact that your lightheaded making it hard to think. To track what he’s doing to you because somehow Neteyam seems to be everywhere at once. His big body all encompassing as he takes you.

“No-no marks, baby” You try to remind him and his blazing eyes zero in on you in a glare “you know we cant…not where they can see”

You’re right, and he hates it. He’ll just have to mark you where only you can see. Where you can look at your self and be reminded that you belong to someone. That you belong to him.

He doesn't have the patience, cant stop his hands from shaking- the tear of your shorts and panties echos around the room as he removes any barriers between him and the heat at the apex of your thighs.

You cant help the thrill it sends down your spine. He’d…ripped your panties off. You thought shit like this only existed in bad Earth made Porn that you’d found on one of the labs computers.

“Sorry, sorry” his apology is far from sincere though and you can't help but giggle, patting his braids fondly.

The fingerfucking is rough, your wines and moans spilling from you as he hits spots inside of you that make you want to curl up. It’s too good. Too much-

You screech, back bowing as he bends to kiss you, loud and sloppy, right on your wet clit. His big head burrows between your thigs as he delves on your cunt, his long rough textured tongue lapping at the fat puffy lips. The texture difference has both of you groaning.

It’s heartbreakingly good, the kind of good that you’ll never be able to forget. That you’ll crave and need for the rest of your life. Addictive, as he dedicates himself to making you feel pleasure.

Neteyam eats pussy the same way he does everything else in his life, exceeding any expectations. His instincts sharp as he hones in on how to make you lose your mind.

He keeps telling you how good you taste, breaking away for heaving breaths before he reburries himself. The only sounds in the room are the beyond wet sloshing of his tongue lashing and the pathetic noises your making.

He’s eating you alive, you don’t know how you’re supposed to survive this.

His fingers, two and then three fuck in and out of you. Corkscrewing as he loosens your tightness up for him.

“O-ooh” you whine high and reedy as you feel your tummy tightening, the pressure building in a way that makes you feel like you cant breathe. You cant your hips, shoving them down at that perfect angle “Oh, sh-shhhhit. I’m gonna, I’m-”

He doubles down and you’re a goner.

The orgasm is devastating. Sofuckinggood you think you might see stars for a minute there. You can't even scream, you keep letting out these little cries that are more like wheezes. A desprate attempt to get some kind of air back in your lungs-

Which reminds you.

Even though you’re in a daze you wiggle away from him, he hisses at you about it but you swat the top of his head as you reach for the Exo Pack.

You shove the mask in his face, between your legs.

”Breathe, Neteyam” you demand him to gulp down the Pandoran air. Yeah, he could go longer in your environment than you in his but still. Death by giving head isn’t the way you’d like him to go out.

He takes long breaths and you try not to be embarrassed by how soaked his chin is.

When he pulls away his eyes are a little more focused “Thank you, sweet girl. Always thinking about me, huh?”

You nod, dropping the mask. Closer this time for easier access. His eyes quickly zero back in on your swollen pussy, on how wet he got you. On how pretty it looks. His mouth is watering all over again-

When you try to close your thighs, the burning of your cheeks getting to be too much he hisses again. It’s not a sound he often makes and it’s a revelation, he’s so sexy. Almost feral.

“Who said I’m done?”

You’re never going to be able to get over this man “I already came?...”

“Yes? So?” he rolls his eyes, lowering his head, nuzzling at the damp juncture of your inner thigh “You’re still so tight, here feel”

His fingers slip back in you and you mewl, baring down as he scissors the long digits.

“We have to get you loose enough to take me, I don’t want to hurt you” He explains it like you need convincing. Like he has to convince you to let him eat you out. You just re-spread your thighs, relaxing back onto the cool floor as you let him do as he pleases.

It takes two more orgasms that you scream and shake through until he deems that you’re ready. By the time that he begins to slide his cock into you you’re a blubbering, oversensitive mess. You’re crying rivers of tears as you cling to him.

“Hold my hand? Please ” You request and he smiles, kissing your tear streaked cheek as he interlaces his longer fingers with yours.

Humans and Na’vi can fuck, but we’rnt designed to. His dick is overwhelimgly big and will really injure you if the two of you aren't careful about this.

You both gasp sharply as his tip breaches you.

It hurts, it’s agonizing. It’s the kind of pleasure pain that you didnt even know could exist. Everytime you think you can adjust, he pushes in another inch. But oh, how you missed it. Being so full it feels like you’re going to burst. You’re pussy flutters as it fights to take him and you focus in on his face.

It’s all scrunched up in heavy concentration. His lips speared between his sharp teeth in a way that has them almost bleeding.

You can't have that. You tug him into a kiss, soothing the abused flesh with your tongue.

“I-I dont want to hurt you” He whimpers as his forehead rests against yours.

“It’s okay, you’re okay” You hum to him, grasping at his hand even tighter “I love what you do to me. I love how you feel”

When he bottoms out you think he must be in your ribs. Hes still, letting your body get used to him. Trying to be kind. You want to tell him that there’s no getting used to his size. That he could fuck you every day for the rest of your lives and he would still feel just as massive.

“Please” you wail instead “please”

The first gentle snap of his pelvis has you both reeling. Your thighs lock around his thin hips, urging him. You can take it. It only takes a little urging for him to lose himself. The harsh stretch of it has you shaking as your over sensitive pussy tightens. You’re coming again, less intense the the previous orgasms, thankfully.

Neteyam had been so focused on making you feel good that he’d neglected his hard, weeping cock. His balls are so full that he knows he’s not going to be able to draw this out.

You know you have to look stupid, mouth hanging open as you raggedly gasp for breath, letting out punched out sounds as Neteyam pounds into you. You cant look away from his face though.

It’s mesmerizing, all of it. The sounds he lets out. The way that his braids sway with the rhythm of his pleasure seeking body. His broad shoulders, bulging biceps and forearms- you are so fucked.

You’re so in love.

“Please Y/N” He wheezes as you squeeze around him, letting go of your hand so he can wrap both of his arms around your lower back “I can’t hold it. W-where should I?”

Oh. Oh, he’s the sweetest man. He always has been.

You peck his lips, not minding that he’s too lost in his own pleasure to really kiss you back

“Come inside me. Come inside me. Come inside me” it’s a heated chant, broken and breathy by the erratic rhythm of his hips and he buries his head in your neck, wailing in the skin there.

Just for a moment, lost in the haze of sex, you can tell he forgets his own strength. Thrusts into you so hard that you scream out in pain, the mushroom tip of his long cock batters your cervix relentlessly. Its a sharp, startling sensation that you’ve never known but you ride it out for him. Desperately trying to keep your whimpers of discomfort at bay.

When he comes, his whole body goes still and ram rod straight. He hugs you tightly to him. You wish you could see his face. Next time, hopefully.

He’s Neteyam, the mighty warrior. The dutiful son. The next clan leader but as he shakes and twitches and basks in the afterglow you can't help but want to baby him. But stroke his back softly, rubbing the residual tension out of his tired muscles.

He’s your big ol’ pussy cat, you’d always teased. He purrs like one every time you’re affectionate with him.

You can’t help but run your hands along his sensitive spine. Let the length of his tail run through the loop of your fingers. He grins and flicks it from side to side. He’d always thought your fascination with it was amusing.

“Are you okay?” he mutters, still hidden in your hair as he starts to come back to himself and you hum, moving up to pat his braids.

“Mmhmm” you’re maybe not as capable of making words as you though you were. He chuckles and hugs you. Holds you in his big arms in a way that makes you feel untouchable.

The two of you lie in that room for as long as you can, until he has to start heading back to Home Tree, it’s almost morning and his parents are early risers. They’ll look for him if hes not in his tent…

It's hard. Letting him go. Even though you know he’ll be back. You keep pulling him back in for kisses, holding onto his muscular arms until he laughs and peels you off of him.

“I’ll be back my love. I’ll always return for you”

You frown but agree, pushing him away to get re-dressed- “How am I supposed to go back like this! Neteyam I don't have any pants!”

He’d shredded your shorts and panties. Literal tatters of cloth are all that’s left.

Neteyam cracks up, almost keeling over. Thinking he’s oh so funny. It lightens the situation and makes letting him go- watching him disappear back in the forest a little easier.

You end up having to pull your fortunately oversized t-shirt down as far as it can go as you make a mad dash across the facility, back to your dorm. You fall asleep grinning, thinking about how the panties had been a necessary sacrifice.

———

Norms on late night watch, keeping a bored, admittedly not sharp enough eye on the security camera’s feeds. With the rainy season, came an influx of Slinths’. It made sense to have a lookout, and somehow he’d gotten saddled with an overnight shift.

He’d definitely fallen asleep for a few hours. Not that he’d tell anyone of that fact.

There is nothing that could prepare him for what he see’s on the screen, over in the desolate East Bay. First, he thinks that he’s hallucinating, his sleep bogged eyes playing tricks on him.

He rubs them hard with his knuckles, not believing the image that is large and clear on the security footage.

It’s Neteyam. Inside the facility which almost never happened. And he’s bending down, his lips locked with Y/N’s . Kissing her hard and long before she punch’s in the code, and opens the air locked door to let him back out into the shadowy eclipse.

Norm’s learned a lot living on this strange moon- Pandora was mysterious. Full of things his brilliant mind would never understand. So he does what he does’ most of the time.

Minds his own business.

So I’ve had this idea cooking for months, but didn’t have the bandwidth to get it written down. The ideas wouldn’t translate to page and I still kind of feel like they didn’t butttttt whatever. This is pure self indulgence. I am so much more in love with Neteyam now. He is SUCH a good guy. Ugh.

Also, please remember that my requests are OPEN! Send in all that good shit. Come blue alien brain rot with me!

#neteyam x reader #neteyam smut #avatar neteyam #aged up neteyam #neteyam x you #avatar smut

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zialltops · 4 months

Text

honeysuckle’s & huckleberry’s

After four years away at collage, you’re finally home with the tools and knowledge to save your family ranch. That is, if their ranch hand would stay out of your way.

Or: Ranch hand Joel doesn’t know how to handle the return of his bosses prodigy daughter, her snarky little attitude, or her sinfully tight jeans.

a/n: howdy ya’ll! This chapter took me a HOT minute to finish because i’ve been severely sick (if you’ve been on this ride with me since esos you know i struggle with my health) but it’s finally here! I cant thank everyone enough for reading and as much as I wish i could hear from you guys more often, i’m just going to keep writing along and hope someone likes it! The smallest interactions bring me so much joy.

Masterlink

ao3 link | spotify playlist

Chapter 5: On My Way To You

He’s never been more humiliated in his entire fucking life. Never—not ever, has he ever felt this embarrassed about someone seeing him naked. He’s been shot down mid alleyway make-out when she’d pressed too close and felt it. He’s been left in a hotel room when he had a woman naked under him and he finally pulled his pants down. Hell—he’s been told it hurts, asked to stop—asked to leave. But never has it made his heart pound and his cheeks stain red, never made him wheeze from anxiety and dread.

He didn’t mean for it to happen—he’s been doing his best to avoid you, give you the space you want, but you’ve been nicer lately and it makes him want to get closer, test those waters and get to know you, but the second he lets himself start to give in, his body goes full force and he has to get away. Today was a hard day for him because he’d been up late the night before trying to rewire a break in the fence that let out three heifers and the little calf you’d saved on Christmas.

He’d crashed hard last night and woke up too late to work himself over before starting his day—it usually helps him keep his cool, but today he spent two hours hours in the saddle of one of Hank’s horses, moving the heifers getting ready to calf to a smaller pasture, the older steer that were about to be sold off from last years calves to a quarantine pen. It was mindless and easy and Joel spent the whole time thinking about you and your pretty eyes and the way you still wear that necklace every day, like you haven’t even thought to take it off.

By the time he stops by the house for something to drink, he’s already spent half his morning picturing you in every position possible—real like he’s never had it before. He’s smack dab in the middle of one of his favorite fantasies, one where you’re going down on him, fully aware of what’s under his belt buckle and wranglers. You’d be so sweet to him, make him feel desirable without feeling like a chore. You’d kiss the length of him over his denim, drag his pants down his thighs and you wouldn’t gasp in shock. You’d want him—your mouth would water for him and you’d give him those pouty lips and bright eyes when you finally run your tongue from base to tip—it would be perfect—

“Morning Joel.”

He’s so caught up in his vision of you in his head he’s completely unprepared for this version, with berries smeared on the corner of your mouth, like the jam is just too sweet for you to leave untasted—you’re swimming in a sweater too big for you and christ he hates when you wear legging, hugging every curve of your body, filling in the shape of your body like a shadow. He does his best to form a sentence, keep himself from staring at the necklace chain he can see poking out of your collar. you’re wearing it, you’re wearing it, you’re wearing it.

When you lick the spoon clean, his stomach hits the floor and his head spin’s suddenly from loss of blood as everything warm and tingly in his body travels south. He knows he has to get out of there, doesn’t have time to stand here for another second if he wants to keep what's going on in his pants to himself.

He’ll kick himself later for not giving you an excuse to run off, but he doesn’t have a choice in the matter right now. He practically runs for the barn, the small bathroom inside is a well learned friend, where he can rub one out fast and get it out of his hungry system. His body is famished, starved for your skin and he isn’t sure how much more of this he can take.

He gets his pants down as fast as he can, spits in his hand and starts quick. God, the way you’d looked at him when he walked in there, like you were happy to see him for once, glad to share his company—if only he wasn’t such a complete piece of shit who can't take a kind gesture for just that.

He sees your smile and he wants to dig his hands into the meat of your ass and hoist you up. Wants to hold you down and take you apart with his mouth. Your eyes meet his and he wants to watch them roll back when you take all of him, like no one ever has, ever will but he can let himself imagine it in this tiny bathroom that smells like livestock and dirt. He can imagine the way you’d want it, want him. The way you’d tell him how good he felt, how good he made you feel despite what he’s always been told about himself.

Just a few more—a couple more tugs and he’s almost there, so fucking close to the thought of your body and his, and…and…

The next thing he knows your eyes are on him, then tick down to his hand wrapped around himself like the pathetic man he knows he is. He’ll never forget the way you looked at him, the way you told him how traumatized you were to see him like that, he’s sure it would have hurt less if you’d stabbed him in the heart with a dull knife.

He fucking runs back to the cabin and get’s himself under a cold shower, trying to keep his hair from getting wet so you don’t know while his body takes a shock to its system, flushing out the desire and replacing it for his shame. When he’s red and shaking from the cold, he re-dresses and heads back towards the house. The longer he hides, the more likely you are to piece together the odd string of occurrences surrounding his disappearances. The longer he waits, the more guilty he looks, so he forces himself up the stairs, trying his best to catch his breath outside of the door until he finally has the gull to knock. He knows you’re in there, he can faintly hear something, soft little sounds that he can't quite make out, so he calls your name when the small rasps don’t catch your attention.

He nearly leaves when the door finally comes open, and…fuck if you aren’t a sight for his painfully sore eyes. You’re red all over, stunning, breathing hard with wide eyes like you’ve been caught at something. Maybe you have, he can imagine, maybe you were touching yourself—thinking about him. It's a futile dream, but he lets himself have it anyways.

No matter how much he runs, how much he tries his hardest to stay away, everything you do ropes him in and hog ties him up, unable and unwilling to be moved until you’ve decided what to do with him now that everything he is, is yours.

It’s shame that keeps him from embarrassing himself again once he drives into town, because the way you press against him in the truck makes his skin boil. He doesn’t deserve to have you beside him after what you’d been forced to witness, but that doesn’t stop him. He wants to slip his hand along your thigh, wishes Tommy wasn’t sitting beside you and he could stuff his hand down the front of your leggings and show you a thing or two—he knows he’s good with his hands—his mouth, he has to be if he wants to get a woman off. He wants to show you exactly what he could do for you, to you, but he keeps his mouth closed and taps his fingers against the steering wheel the whole way. It’s infuriating, how much you get along with Tommy now, who’s been nothing but crude to you, making passes at you left and right and god help him, you let him. He wants you to talk to him like that too, he wants to make you laugh, make you giggle and blush prettily.

But he just loads the truck. Watches when you and Tommy snicker over a bottle of whiskey he knows he can't touch because last time he made a fool of himself. He tries not to intrude on your space, tries not to bother you and Tommy around the fire later after he’s done unloading the truck alone. Not even Tommy helps him around here anymore, too far up your ass that he’s damn near useless.

He watches from the window like a fucking creep, trying not to work himself up over the way you smile at his brother, the way you throw your head back laughing at something stupid he probably said. He wants that to be him, sitting beside you with whiskey making him bold, faking it for him since he doesn’t have the ability to just talk to you. He’s sure he’d tell you everything, how beautiful he thinks you are, how much smarter than him you are. He’d probably tell you how many times he’s thought about you with his hands wrapped around himself, in the dark of his room with your name on his lips.

He doesn’t do any of that, instead he watches you from the window and lets his heart ache and pound until he sees the way Tommy lingers closer, touches your leg absently and you let him. He has to put a stop to this, so he tracks out into the cold and tries to put his foot down. Maybe Tommy will go to bed, you’ll let him walk you home and it will be so cold that you’ll ask him to stay again. But before he has a second to beg you otherwise, you’re kissing his brother.

You’re kissing his brother instead of him and he can't watch for another second, so he hightails it inside and slams his bedroom door behind himself. He can usually hear right through Tommy’s wall, but he holds his hands over his ears and tries his hardest to keep the sound of his ragged breaths from making it through the walls. At some point, he falls asleep, wishing you were laying right beside him, sprawled out, satisfied and spent with the shape of his teeth on your shoulder.

When he wakes in the morning, it’s not even close to sun up yet. He has a long day ahead of him, has to ride up to the north pasture, acres upon acres of beautiful pine covered land, but Joel has to ensure that the streams aren’t frozen over if he wants to move the heifers and their calves there soon. He gets dressed with a ache in his bones that he knows didn’t come from his age, his stomach is in knots because he knows what's been done, he knows he can’t change it—that he might not ever stand a chance with you now that you’ve been with him. Women always preferred Tommy over him, all the same cowboy charm with a bit more confidence.

He slips on his boots and places his hat on his head before lingering in the hallway for a long moment. He stares at Tommys door and imagines you sleeping on the other side of it. Did you like it? Do you like him?

He turns and starts down the hallways when the door comes open with a slow creak. He turns back around in the dark light of the hallway and, there you are wearing one of Tommy’s shirts and nothing else, your hair is mused and you have this look on your face, one that reeds shame and worry and for what Joel just can't quite put his finger on. You don’t say anything for a long time, just Joel and you and the fading darkness outside, your eyes tracking over him with a shiny hue to them.

“Where are you going?” Where is he going is the first thing you have to say to him? Like he climbed out of your bed and snuck off. “I uhm…I have a long ride up to the north field, thought I would get a early start on it.” He clears his throat and glances down at his boots, then back up at you. “Though I should give ya’ll some space, no one wants their brother listenin’ in.”

He starts to turn away again because he can’t look at you for another second when he knows you have his saliva on your skin and the shapes of his hands on your body.

“Can I come with you?” Go with him? You want to go with him when there’s a warm body waiting for you in a warm bed, where you can hide from the cold world, the impending darkness and a man like him. “You want to go? Why?” You close the bedroom door behind you like you don't want to wake Tommy and it makes Joel’s heart pound out of his chest for reasons it shouldn’t. “I don't know, it’s cold out there, you’re uhm…you’re naked.”

He tries, really tries to keep his eyes off your bare thighs, the shirt hanging off your frame and your sock-less feet on the hardwood. “I’m not naked, I have underwear on,” you lift one side of the shirt like you have to prove it to him and his eyes track to the black lace hugging your hips. Saliva builds in his mouth and he clears his throat, needing to turn away from you again. “If you want to come you should probably put some clothes on, I’ll meet you in the stable.” He starts to gather up his things, a light and his phone, trying to make himself busy so he can get away. “Well, will you wait for me—I don’t want to walk alone.” And Joel doesn’t want to do this right now, walk with you for a half mile back to the stables, sit beside you, wondering if it aches sitting in the saddle because his brother fucked you.

But he waits anyway, fiddles with the brim of his hat while he sits on the couch in silence as he waits for you to get dressed. You come out in your clothes from the night before, bundled up in a big jacket with your hair tied back. He tells himself not to think about it and heads towards the door. The walk to the stables is nearly silent, but the pounding in his ears drowns out the awkwardness in the interaction. How can he stop thinking about it? How you slept with him but dragged yourself out of bed to follow Joel into the cold? How you would trade a warm body for Joel’s cold shoulder?

“Need help with your saddle?” His voice feels raw from not using it, his hands aching from the cold while he cinches up the girth strap. This time next year, hell be saddling up Cersi to take this trip, he cant wait, but for now he’ll ride Hanks sturdy horse through the mud and snow. “I’ve got it, thank you.” There's no snap in your tone like he expects there to be and you work with him in unison, getting your mounts ready while the sun starts to climb into the atmosphere. By the time he gets out of the barn, you’re smiling at him. Smiling from your spot in the saddle with the reigns in your hands like you’re made for that.

“You ready to get a move on, cowboy?” His chest tightens at the way you gaze at him, wondering if you’d given Tommy that same look the night before. He wants to pretend it was all for him, pretend that you’re looking at him like that because you see something you haven’t before.

“You ready, cowgirl? When's the last time you were in a saddle?” He tries his damndest to keep his tone light as he hooks a foot in the stirrup and hoists himself up. “Been a couple years, but I don’t think I’ll ever forget how to ride.”

Did you practice last night? He shakes his head and wills away the image. He doesn’t think he'll be able to stop thinking about it for the rest of the ride, he can’t get the image of your mouth on his out of his head no matter how much he tries. It’s always fucking Tommy. He’s always been the favored brother, no matter how much of a fuck up he is. He’s always been the one to get the girl, the popular one in school, hell even his wife—

“You okay in there cowboy?”

Your voice comes like a shock to his system, snapping him out of another unpleasant memory. “Huh?” He looks around until he lays eyes on you, riding beside him with your hands resting on the horn of the saddle. “I was asking if you’re okay…you’ve been really quiet for the past half hour.” Half an hour? It's been a half hour since he started this ride? “Yeah, no, sorry. I have a lot on my mind, is all.” You pick up the pace beside him a little, till your horses are walking alongside each-other on the path. “Anything you want to talk about?”

He sits on the words for a second. He doesn’t want to talk about it, not particularly—but its you and your asking him and fuck, he wants you to get to know him. Maybe if you knew who he was, maybe if he had a chance to explain why he’s like this you might change your mind.

“I was thinkin’ ‘bout my ex-wife.” He keeps his eyes ahead of him, because he doesn’t want to see the look on your face when you hear that, that he had a whole other life away from this place. “My mom told me you had an ex-wife. She didn’t tell me what happened.”

You knew? He’d told Hank and Louise a lot about his life, he had to if he wanted them to trust him. He wasn’t a bad man, just a burdened one. “We uh…we had a rocky marriage. Got together young, right out of high school. I was learning to work a cattle ranch and I thought I would be able to give her a good life but—she wanted more, I suppose. Started steppin’ out on me. She got pregnant by another man, but I still didn’t leave. Helped raise that little girl like she was my own.”

He thinks about Sarah and her curly hair that definitely didn’t come from him or her mom, her sweet smile, her first day of school—all the things he missed.

“What made you finally leave?” Your voice is so quiet beside him. He looks over at you under the brim of his hat and sighs. “She slept with Tommy. Came home from picking up Sarah from school and I…caught ‘em together in bed. Tommy said he did it because he wanted to prove to me that she wasn’t any good for me but, I don’t know, I’ve never been very good and stayin’ angry at him.”

Your eyes look far away in that moment, like you’re clouded in some kind of guilt, maybe because you’d slept with Tommy, too. “I’m sorry that happened to you, Joel.” He clicks his tongue and shakes his head absently. “Ain’t no thing. I’m used to it by now, he’s always had a way with ‘em that I never had.”

He has, Joel can't even recall every encounter he’s had with a woman that ended with them leaving with his brother. Hell, it had been five years since the last time he’d (kind of) had sex, no thanks to his cockblocker of a brother. The first time in years since he’s felt more than just attraction to a woman and Tommy takes that from him too.

“We should get a move on, we don’t have all day and I have a lot to do when I get back.”

He digs his heal in and the horse picks up speed and to his surprise, you keep gate with him along the trail.

When he gets to the gate of the north pasture, his ass hurts from being in the saddle and his face feels wind chapped, but you don’t complain about a lick of it, like you wouldn’t want to be anywhere else in the world right now. “Joel?” He’s closing the gate behind you when you call his name. It makes him look up from the latch. “Yeah?” He gets it in place and mounts his horse again, adjusting his hat on his head. “I’m really sorry, about how I treated you when I first came home.”

Fuck do you have to do this right now? Out here, where he has nowhere to run off to? “You're not the one who needs to be sorry. I never should have done half the things I did to you. I didn’t even know you and I assumed the worst of you. Should’ve never done any of that to you.” He never should have left you in the cold, never should have treated you any differently than anyone else because he thought you came from somewhere that didn’t like folks like him when he really likes girls like you. So smart and put together, so capable and confident.

“We got off on a bad foot, I suppose…do you think maybe we could…start over?”

You want to start over? With him? give him a second shot to not fuck this up again? Or maybe you don’t mean it like that, like he desperately wants it to mean, even if you fucked his brother last night, he doesn’t care, he’d take his sloppy seconds any day because it’s you.

“I’d really like that.” There's a sweet kind of shimmer in your eyes when you smile at him, rosey cheeks and a crinkle by your kind eyes. His sight ticks down to your chest, where he can see the necklace he’d given you sticking out of the top. You’re still wearing it, had you worn it last night? When he laid you down on his cold sheets while Joel wished desperately it was his?

Despite the pang in his chest, the rest of the ride is easy and light, you talk about nothing and absolutely everything, your favorite color, your favorite time of the year, Joel tells you how much he loves the spring and you excitedly agree, going on and on about watching the world come back to life.

You tell him about college, how out of place you felt surrounded by people who were so different from you. How nervous you were for the first year, but you’d made a best friend out of your room mate Mel, and you finally got the hang of it in your second year.

He tells you about drifting from place to place because Tommy usually stirs up some trouble and runs them out of town. He tells you about all the times he’s had to save his ass to your parents and how much he’s tried to hang on to the one good place he’s had in so long. He could talk to you for hours, all day if you’d let him, and you do. You hold his conversations like you’re a pair of old friends, catching up after years spent apart.

He’s so lost in you that he doesn’t even realize you’re back home until the house comes into view. He’s spent so much time immersing himself in talking to you that he’s completely lost track of where he is, letting the miles blow past him. It’s mid day and he still has a lot to do and he can tell you’re starting to get sore in the saddle. “I’ll get them cooled down, you should probably get some rest. You couldn’t of gotten much sleep last night.” He swings his leg over and climbs off the horse before taking yours by the halter so you can do the same. “Thank you for today…it’s been a while since I’ve had a good reason to ride.” You give him one of those smiles again and it takes everything in him not to lean in and kiss you because of it. He’s wanted to kiss you all damn day, slide his fingers into the hair at the base of your skull and hold on tight, slot his lips over yours and breathe you in deep until he can’t let you go again.

He doesn’t and you head off towards the house while he looks on. He watches till you make it inside and then some before getting back to his chores.

Work consumes the entirety of his day, until the sun sets and it starts to get dark and chilly when he’s finally got the animals fed and the equipment locked up. He knows Tommy is back at the cabin because he dropped off a plate of dinner to Joel in the stable on his way home. He’s about to start the walk back to the cabin himself when he hears the creak of the screen door on the house just across the yard. He closes the barn door behind himself and follows the sounds. You’re standing on the porch in a pair of sleep shorts and slippers, a tee-shirt that's too big and a nervous look on your face. You don't say anything, but Joel’s feet carry him to the steps, then up them one at a time, carefully and painfully slow, like he might spook you away if he moves too quickly. The wind is absolutely howling right now, whipping your hair around and cinching your shirt tight against your frame.

He hits the landing and takes a few more steps forward, until he’s a foot away from your shaking form, your big pretty eyes that are searching every corner of his. He should say something, he should say how much he enjoyed today, how much he wants to do it again and again and again.

“I didn’t have sex with him.”

It’s not what he expected you to say standing out here in this unforgiving cold, but its the best damn thing he’s heard you say all day. It feels like an endless weight coming off his shoulders and he lets out a loud gush of air he didn’t know he was holding. “What?” You puff your chest out a little, like you’re trying to get a point across to him. “I didn't have sex with Tommy last night.” You say it so matter of factly.

“Why didn’t you?” He reaches up and pushes his hat up a little, wiping sweat from his brow with the back of his hand. His heart is pounding, his limbs shaking at the admission. “You know why.”

All at once, his pounding heart comes to a staggering stop, standing there on the porch looking down at you while he tries to keep himself upright. He doesn’t know why but the way you're looking at him now tells him there's something else here besides anger and hatred and shared distaste. You didn’t sleep with Tommy, because on the other side of that wall you were wanting him just as desperately as he wanted you.

“It’s cold out here…do you want to sleep on the couch tonight?”

Joel’s bottom lip quivers so much he has to suck it into his mouth to make it stop, bite down on it to put it at ease. “Yeah, I…I’d like that.”

A warm little hand finds his, tentative fingers intertwined with his while you lead him inside of the house. You don’t take him upstairs, Joel doesn’t expect you to. You lead him to the couch and he sits down, kicking off his boots when you reach up for his hat. You set it on the arm rest beside him and grab a blanket off the back of the couch when he lays himself back on the pillow.

His body aches, his eyes feel heavy, but he doesn’t dare close them when he’s got an angel standing right before his eyes. “Goodnight, Cowboy.” You hum sweetly, lean down and press your lips against the apple of his cheek, more delicate than he’s ever been touched before in his entire fucking life.

When you pull away, those same cheeks are painted pink and he does his best not to grin too stupidly. “Goodnight, Cowgirl.”

You take the stairs up to your room but Joel rides the elevator to heaven from his spot on the living room couch.

#joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #pedro pascal #joel miller x reader #the last of us #joel the last of us #archive of our own #joel tlou #cowboy joel miller #rancher joel miller #slow burn joel miller

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luimagines · 8 months

Note

I actually got one of your Bath day packages on your shop (10/10 would recommend) and I love it it! I think I accidentally bit into soap thinking it was candy, or it might’ve been candy and perhaps it wasn’t to my flavor but either way at that moment I was rethinking my life choices lolol. Anyway it gave me an idea, how would the Chain react to reader eating something that they shouldn’t because unbeknownst to the reader it might’ve been poisonous.

Oh! Well thank you so much! <3

I hope you didn't eat one of the bath bombs by mistake ^.^*

I'll see what I can come up with :D

Masterlist

Immediate Reader!

Boys under the cut!

You didn't quite know what you were looking at.

It was a small red berry that you had seen a few birds and a squirrels pick off of the bush. You plucked a few for yourself and held in the palm of your hand.

Your stomach growled in protest.

You knew you shouldn't eat anything you didn't recognize, but realistically you weren't home. You didn't recognize anything.

But if the animals could eat it, that means it was more of less safe, right? At best you'd just have to wash it before you decided to eat any.

There's a stream nearby now that you think about it.

You make your way over to it, feeling a tad regretful and suspicious. You're not doing anything wrong, per say. But you still have the lingering feeling that you shouldn't be doing what you're doing.

It's quiet when you get to the side of the stream. There doesn't seem to be a lot of other animals around you, but they have proven to be in the area as it is.

You dip your hand in the freezing water, letting it run over the berries. There was a stinging sensation as the water collides with your skin but it was quickly ignored in favor of the juicy fruit in your hands.

You pulled your hand away and began to dry them off. Was the water clean? You hoped so.

It was only a few berries after all. Maybe you just try one and then let the others know that there was food in the area. …and poison yourself in the process? Seems dumb.

But what if it's harmless and you're making a big fuss over nothing. They're hardly the size of your fingernail. Just one berry? For science?

You plop one in your mouth and let it roll over your tongue for a minute.

There's no strange taste on the skin of the fruit. It's smooth and chilled from the water.

You bite into it.

The juices that spill forth is sweet and mildly salty. It's a strange combination but an inherently pleasant one. It would make a great refreshment in the summer time and it would be great on a jam. No wonder the squirrels were trying to stash as many as they could.

A small hum leaves your lips as you reach to plop another one in your mouth. "They're not half bad."

Someone says your name with poorly disguised horror. "What are you chewing?"

***

Sky

You snapped your head in the direction of the voice with wide eyes, freezing in place like a dear in headlights.

Sky sprints in our direction, slapping your hand and scattering the berries all over the forest floor. "Are you crazy?!"

"Sky?"

"Do you even know what kind of berries those are? What if they're poisonous?! You don't just eat things you find growing around you!" He's panicking.

Sky paces the space you. His hands flutter all around you, touching you gently but thoughtfully. He checks your pulse, your temperature, your reaction time- he checks if you're swelling or not.

"Sky, I'm ok." You say after a choked minute.

"Are you?" He checks your forehead again, resting he back of his hand against your cheek. "Are you sure?"

You hesitate to respond. He is very close right now. His nose is only inches away from yours. And his eyes- were they always that blue?

You take a step back.

Sky seems to catch on and gasps. "Sorry. Sorry. I wasn't paying attention. Are you feeling ok?"

Truthfully, you're not but you can't let him know that. You nod. "I'm fine. I already ate one. So I think they're fine to eat. Otherwise, I might be dealing with food poisoning-"

He opens his mouth to interject but you hold your hand up, stopping him.

"-later. I feel perfectly fine right now."

He frowns. "I don't trust it."

"We can bring back a twig for one of the others to try and identify it." You offer, pointing in the direction of the little bush. "I think Wild's Sheikah Slate would be able to figure something out. I saw him use it to name a few animals a while ago. Maybe it can do the same with plants."

Sky doesn't seem to convinced but he can't find an argument fast enough. "...Alright. But I don't trust it. The second you start feeling well, you have to tell someone, ok?"

That actually doesn't sound too appealing to you. "...Why?" You chuckle nervously. "No one has to know-"

"Yes, we do." Sky presses. "Otherwise no one is going to know how to properly treat you just cause you're embarrassed to be just as bad as the Champion."

"In his defense, he's not that bad." You roll your eyes.

"Then tell Twilight what you did."

"Hell no."

Four

You straighten up entirely. Your back and neck go rigid and some berries fall from your hand.

You cough. You gasped when you heard his voice and sent the piece of fruit all the way to the back of your throat. It nearly choked you.

"F-four- ahahack!" You gasp for breath. "Don't scare me like that."

Four jogs forward. "Sorry."

He doesn't sound apologetic.

While you're still trying to get the air back into your lung the proper way, Four takes your hand and grabs the berries from them. He inspects them thouroughly and begins to look around the surrounding flora to find where you might have taken them from.

"Ca-can I help you?" You keep coughing. A part of you is a little annoyed about the attempt on your life and the little care he seems to have for it, but you're also a little concerned by said lack of care. Were you in any danger?

"Where did you find theses?" Four holds the berries in his own hand out to you.

Your eyebrows scrunch and you point just beyond a small thicket. "I got them from the bush over there. I saw a few animals eat them and I-"

"Did you eat it?!" He pales and makes a dash towards you.

You feel fine, if a bit winded so his reaction startles you. "No?? You freaked me out and I coughed it up."

Four waits for a moment as if expecting a reaction out of you before he turns around and rushes to the bush your pointed to earlier.

You follow him, feeling ice cold terror slowly fill your veins. "Is it bad? Is it poisonous?"

Four starts looking at the leaves and stems of the plants before he groans loudly. You're aback again but if he's annoyed then maybe you're not in as much danger as he may have thought.

"No, these are fine." He says at last, plucking a few more for good measure. "You're almost as bad as Wild. Putting things in your mouth that you don't recognize-"

"Hey!" You pout. You had thought about it!....You did it anyway, but it crossed your mind! "I was checking on it!"

"Don't scare me again." He grins, tossing a berry in your face. "Just because animal can eat it, doesn't mean that people can. Be careful."

As if to tease you, he puts a few in his mouth and chews them. "Hhmm... We should take a few back for the others, what do you think?"

You huff and sag your shoulders. "I think it's a great idea."

"You can take the credit for finding the bush."

"I think it's the best idea today!"

Hyrule

"....A berry...." You trail off. Something about this makes you feel uneasy. You didn't think you'd be caught by Hyrule of all people and the energy he's giving off leaves you with little room to doubt that you're in trouble.

He meets your eyes with a flat look. His hands land on his hips and his eyebrow goes up. "Oh really? And where did you find it?"

Whoever taught him this is going to hear form your lawyers.

"I found a bush." You say sheepishly, picking a single berry from your small hoard. "I saw animals eating and then I washed them..."

"Uh-huh." Hyrule takes a few steps forward and plucks the berry from your fingers. He looks over it for a minute before bravely putting it in his mouth. "And then what?"

"Wha- Hey!" You panic and drop the berries in the process. "Hyru- Link! You can't just-!"

"Oh these are fine." He says after he swallows. "For a second I thought that they were Thornbull Berries. But the little stem would have a thorn at the top of the fruit and it would taste metallic."

You stare at him unblinkingly until he bends down, picking up the little berries that you dropped. "...What berries are these then?"

"Sweet Tarts." He grins, putting the berries back in the palm of your hand. "They're safe to eat."

You cough and clear your throat. "Oh... Good. Good. Um... I'm guessing the other one you mentioned isn't?"

"Nope. They'll poison you for sure." He says, all chipper and not at all bothered by the information. "Ask me how I know."

Well now you have to. "How do you know?"

"I ate some." He looks back to you with a grin. "Enough so that I've built up a tolerance to the effects of them. So I can eat a few of them safely. You, however, cannot. So don't eat things you don't know, ok?"

You looks away in embarrassment and tapping your toe on the ground. "...Someone had to."

"We have food back at the camp." He laughs. "Where'd you find these anyway? I want more. Do you think Wild can make a pie while we're out here."

You feel like you've been given whiplash. You lead him to where you found the berry bush and he starts happily picking the berries. Now you're a little put off the innocent berries but if Hyrule gave them the all clear then you've got no problem eating them, right?

You sigh and start to help picking them off of the small bush. "If he manages to make it, I would be very impressed."

Hyrule giggles, unaware of the inner turmoil he sent you in. "I'm sure we can ask. If not, then maybe he can make a dessert instead."

You nod and take out a small bag to put them in. Hopefully there's enough for everyone to enjoy.

Wind

Wind gasps and takes a step back. The look of horror on his face is unmistakable. "Is that blood?"

"What?" You nearly choke on the berry when you speak. The juice runs down your chin and the flesh of the fruit hangs at the back of your throat.

Wind runs to you, hitting your back as hard as he can to "help".

"Wind." Your voice comes out strained. "Wind, please."

He doesn't stop.

You have to swat him away. "Link, I'm fine!"

You certainly don't sound fine. Wind frowns and hovers around you, waiting for any sign to show that you're getting worse.

"Are you ok?" He asks at last.

You have to restrain yourself from glaring at the young boy. "I'm fine. I was eating some berries I found. Do you-" You have to clear your throat again. "Do you need something?"

Wind makes a small humming noise. "I was looking for you. Legend wanted your help with getting Four to agree with him on blacksmithing techniques."

You make a face. "Why on earth does he think I have anything to say about that?"

Wind shrugs.

You cough again and use your sleeve to clean up the remains of the berry, both from your face and your shirt. "I hope the stains come out."

Wind and clears his throat. "What were you eating?"

"Berry." You spit the remains of it out. "I was checking if they were safe to eat."

"By eating them?" Wind tilts his head.

"...." You raise and eyebrow. "Is there any other way?"

Wind opens his mouth to argue but he can't think of an answer fast enough. Knowing that you're more or less saved by the bell, you ruffle his hair and drop the rest of the berries on the ground. Even if they were safe to eat in the end, you don't want to risk your reputation on that.

"Did the Champion say that lunch was going to be ready yet?" You sling your arm around his shoulders. You're quick to change directions, distracting the young hero from the mess you may or may not have made.

"Not yet." Wind says, quickly letting himself be guided away.

You let out a small breath. Oh well, those berries weren't worth it.

Wild

"Wild!" You cry, the half chewed berry spits out of your lips. "Don't scare me like that!"

He snaps a picture.

"Hey!" You swallow the other berry and glare at him. "Get rid of that! I probably look like a chipmunk!"

"A human. A bipedal creature with three dimensional vision, surround sound hearing and technicolor sense of smell." The sheikah slate speaks.

You both freeze and whatever you were about to say get lodged in your throat. "...I didn't know it could do that."

"It's the first time it's happened." Wild chuckles nervously, snapping another picture.

"Wild!" You pout harder. "A warning! Is that too much to ask for!"

"Sweet Tart Berries." The sheikah slate speaks again. "Not to be confused for Thronbull Berries. These berries are sweet and tangy to eat and are known to make delicious pastries, a royal family favorite."

Wild points to your hand that holds the berries. "I'm getting them. Where did you find them?"

"I-in the bush?" You point your finger in the direction they came from. Wild all but dives in that direction as he started to harvest the little berries. "Are we not going t question that your thingy just spoke?"

"Nope." Wild grins, putting the berries in said thingy. "I was just checking to see if my slate to recognize and categorize whatever it was you were eating. the first picture was just a bonus."

You deadpan. "A bonus?"

Wild pauses and his ears flick. "Ok, fine. I actually missed it but I got it the second time. Good find! These are pretty good!"

You feel light headed. enough so that you bring yourself to the ground to sit. "Right...what are Thornbull Berries?"

"I... don't know." Wild moves away from the bush, picking as much as he needed. The taps a few times on the sheikah slate and the voice picks up one moce.

"Thornbull Berries. Typically confused for Sweet Tart Berries, but are poisonous in nature. Known to create a burning sensation in the first thirty minutes of consumption before moving to lose of motor control and eyesight. Victims of the berry can be classified as dead three hours afterwards."

You and Wild slowly turn your head to the bush. "We're not telling anyone else."

"Agreed."

Time

"Spit it out. Right now." Time charges over to you, taking you by the shoulders.

You swallow it.

Time only seems to pale. "What on earth?" He says you're name as if he was scolding a child. "What do you think you're doing?"

"E-eating a berry." You hold out the small bundle in your palm, hoping that he's going to go easy on you. "I found them in the bush-"

"Those are poisonous!" He smacks them out of your hand, instantly checking your pulse and your forehead and your palms.

You're thrown for a loop. You didn't think they were that bad. If anything they were delicious. So it's hard to equate something that tasty into something that's going to kill you.

"But..." You squeak, unable to stay confident in his panic. It was incredibly unnerving to see him in such a state "I already ate one. And I feel fine."

Time pauses, letting your words bounce around in his skull. He checks your face again, looking into your eyes and double checking your temperature. "Are you sure?"

You nod.

"Any nausea? Burning? Pain? Disinterest in fate?"

You start giggling and shake your head. "I'm fine!"

Time doesn't seem to convinced. "Are you sure?"

"If I was in pain or feeling like I was being burned alive, I would say so. I doubt I would be able to hide that kind of thins anyway." You shrugs. "I'm not like Warrior or Legend. those two can fake a broken bone and get away with it. I cry with a paper cut."

He seems to calm down with your words, although he remains suspicious. He keeps an raised eyebrow in your direction as he watches for any change in your reaction.

You calm down as well. Maybe he misread the situation? Sure, he scared the heck out of you the first go around, but now that he's still suspicious despite the lack of results, you feel silly in his behalf. You start to giggle again at the thought.

"What?" Time despairs. "Don't tell me you're feeling dizzy."

You shake your head and instead poke Time. "You're too serious, Old Man. You nearly gave me a heart attack."

You brush him off and start to pick up the berries that fell on the ground. "I'm going to wash these and eat more. You are welcome to join me."

Time runs his hand down his face. "You're joking. Tell me you're joking."

"Nope! They're deliciously tart and I'm going to eat as many as I can!" Are you being cheeky? Maybe. But it seems worth it given his reaction.

Time sighs, looking ten years older already. However, you don't feel remotely apologetic. He should learn to live a little, honestly.

Twilight

You instantly feel your heart pause and skip a beat. You swallow the berry instinctively before speaking. "...I found a berry bush."

Part of you wonders what's going through his head. He looks concerned and panicked but not enough to do anything about it, you guess.

"Do you want some?" You try to sweeten the deal. Something about Twilight gives off disappointed mother energy and you don't care for that at all. Is this what Wild has to deal with almost on the daily? How does he not go crazy?

He stares you down and then does something weird. He leans in close to your face and starts to sniff.

"Twilight...What are you doing?" You try to lean away but he only follows you. He sniffs close to your neck and your lip before he reaches down to your hand, taking a berry and sniffs that too.

"Smells alright..." He mutters to himself before he gives a little lick to the berry.

You feel instant shame blast onto your face and you force yourself to look away. "Link please."

"No toxins."

You stop dead in your mental train of thought. "Come again?"

"Where did you find these?" He's ignoring your questions.

You blankly point to where you found the berry bush. He stars heading in that direction without a second thought, sniffing the air still.

You feel weirder now that he's no longer in your direct line of sight. You thought the fur pelt was just for aesthetic of warmth... what's with the dog attempts?

You follow him, unable to think of doing anything other than that. He still hasn't told what he's doing and you feel like you've been slapped in the face with a fish. You need answers now.

"Twilight?" You call out to him and find him crouched next to the bush. He's sniffing that too. You're even more confused. You're almost certain Wild doesn't have to go through this. "Why are you being weird today?"

Twilight opens his eyes and picks a small berry off the bush. He takes the tiniest of bites out of it, keeping another berry (probably the one you gave him) up so he can continue examining it.

"These are safe to eat." He beams at you, waving the small berry in between his fingers. "Good find! I'm sure we can have a few."

"You- that- what-" You're left scrambling. Well considering you feel completely fine, you would assume that they're safe. "Was that what this was all about?"

Twilight tilts his head and pops another berry into his mouth. "What what was about?"

You gape. He can't be serious. Is he gas lighting you right now? "The whole sniffing thing!"

"The nose knows. What can I say?" He shrugs, eating more berries.

You flops your arm uselessly. That tells you nothing. You eat another berry out of spite. You're asking Wild if Twilight has done that before. It's absurd.

Warrior

You start coughing, not expecting to have been caught and by him of all people. You choke on the berry mush within your mouth and are forced to spit it out.

"Captain!" You shout. "Don't scare me like that!"

"I scared you?" He glares. "What about you? Putting things in your mouth without even know what they are!"

"I know what they are!" You shout back indignantly.

Warrior crosses his arms and crosses the distance between you both. "Then what are they?"

"Berries." You pop another one in your mouth to prove a point. "And they're delicious."

Warrior frowns and takes a berry out of your hand. He turns it over once, ignoring the way you glare at him for the near death experience before he also tosses it into his mouth. He looks just as annoyed as you feel before he softens entirely. "Oh."

"Yes." You toss your hair back. "Oh. Hey. The not-hero was right. Go figure. Who knew it was possible? You should listen to me more often."

"Ok, ok." Warrior puts his hands up in surrender. "Point made."

You take another one from your palm and wave it in his face. "They're tasty. I told you so."

"You did." Warrior shakes his head. "You win. What are they called?"

"I have no idea."

"..."

"So let me get this straight." Warrior is back in his serious mode. "You saw berries."

"Yes."

"You didn't recognize them."

"Yes."

"And ate them anyway?"

"Nice summary of the last fifteen minutes of my life." You eat another berry, making sure to chew it slowly.

You can see Warrior bite the inside of his cheek. It's almost funny, watching him trying to keep his cool around you.

"You're impossible."

"You love me." You flick his forehead. "What's the worse that can happen?"

"They're poisonous.'" He answers without missing a beat. "Which is what I thought at first. They look a lot like Thornbull berries. Smell different though."

"I have no idea what those are."

"....Yeah that checks out."

Legend

You freeze and try to keep your back turned to the hero who's caught you.

Legend says your name again. He's even more stern. "What are you eating?"

You swallow it and turn around. Why do you feel like you're in trouble? It's not like you're doing anything wrong. "I found some berries. they seemed safe to eat so I was just-"

"Seemed?" He stressed the word in a way that doesn't feel right. "They seemed safe to eat?!"

Now you feel indignant. You pluck another berry from the small pie in your palm to show him. "Yes. They did. And frankly, they're delicious."

Then you plop the next one into your mouth.

Legend's jaw drops. "I can't believe you."

"Start believing." You pop two more into your mouth. "They're interesting and I like them."

You wave the last one in his face before holding out to him. "Want to try it?"

Legend frowns, looking at the berry in your hand. He makes no move to take it at first and instead focuses on your face. "How do you it's edible?"

"I saw some other animals eat it." You shrugs, keeping your hand out. "Had to admit, it made me curious."

You wave the berry in his face. "You know you want to~~"

Legend makes another face before tentatively reaching for the berry. The action makes you feel victorious, like you've won some silent challege.

"The Traveler would know if this is safe to eat or not." He speaks quietly, turning the innocent berry over in his fingers.

"But he's not here right now." You press. "Come on!! Don't be a scardey cat. Live a little. If it was bad to eat, I would probably be showing signs of it already."

That seems to win him over. Legend brings the berry to his lip and bites half of it. His eyes light up and his ear move a little bit higher. "Hm!"

"Right? They're good!" You clap his shoulder. "Should be bring some for the the others?"

"Do you think the Champion would be able to do something with this?" Legend bites the other half.

"No clue. But we can always ask."

Legend wipes his fingers on his tunic. "Where'd you get them?"

"They're growing on a bush over there." You grin. "Come on I'll show you."

#linked universe #linkeduniverse #linked universe x reader #lu x reader

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rendy-a · 11 months

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hi hi! can I ask for some househusband Ruggie with a side of cottagecore? the literal kind- fluff, and tysm for writing! his S/O has a garden full off food, can work carpentry and the repair work, so.. does he just decide to be a malewife with the occasional side gigs? (at least half of his living costs just became free) how would he navigate a life like that? would he brag about his S/O? did he pull a 'yes I do the cleaning yes I-' in the head the second he learnt about it? ty again!

Thank you for the request! I had to look up what Cottagecore was but, agh! that fits Ruggie so well. He'd love to have such a self-sufficient spouse as his partner. I hope you enjoy my musings about living in the countryside with Ruggie.

He can’t get used to having food available all over. Garden, check. Orchard, check. Canned food in the pantry, yes. Homemade bread on the table, you know it. Is this home or a buffet? He can’t help but hoard a little bit of food in his Tupperware. Luckily, turning those leftovers into new meals is also one of your hobbies.

Ruggie has spent so much time doing odd jobs that he can’t comfortably sit still for long periods of time. You introduce him to some of your idle hobbies to help him deal with the change. Knitting on the porch wiles away the evening. You’ll each have a new pair of warm socks before winter. When the snow keeps you indoors, you teach Ruggie how to needlepoint. Embroidered cushions make great gifts (and are easy to sell in the summer farmer’s market shishishi!)

Self-sufficiency means making a lot of things yourself. Ruggie is used to fixing items from his odd jobs but you are full-on making things from scratch. Whether it is furniture, a new garden bed or a replacement roof on the shed; if something needs making, you are making it together! You need to teach him the ropes, but Ruggie makes for a first-class woodworking assistant. There is nothing more satisfying than finishing a project that you’ve done together.

Deep fall was setting in and Ruggie was doing his annual check-over for winter. You both knew it was unnecessary, but it gave him comfort to know things were there, so you ignored it. You passed by the root cellar and could hear him counting jars of your canned food. “How are things looking down there?” you called to him. You heard a surprised yelp from below before your spouse’s face appeared in the stairwell. “Geeze, don’t scare me like that. I almost dropped a jar of peaches,” he reproaches you gently. You smile an apology to him. “I think we’ll be ok. Might have to ration the berry jam; I wish we’d have noticed when the birds started in on our bushes,” he finishes with an annoyed expression. You give him a grunt of agreement and wander away.

The next time you noticed your spouse doing his secret inspection was the following day. You were returning from the neighbor’s place. You had an arrangement with them to trade some of your special recipe canned tomato sauce for their soft, homespun yarn. You had chosen a yarn ball with golden hues that reminded you of your spouse’s adorable ears. You smiled as you walked over the last hill separating your home from the next and caught sight of those same adorable ears poking up from the rooftop. You knew what he was doing up there; checking for leaks and worrying that your little nest would be less than cozy over the cold winter months. Even so, you called up to him, “Lose something up there?” He jumps up and looks down at you guiltily, “Ah no. I thought I heard a bird or something trapped up here and came to give it a look.” You smile at him, “Find any?” He looks at you suspiciously, “No but maybe I should keep looking.” You wave a goodbye, “Ok Dear, just be down in time for dinner. I’m making those biscuits you like so much.”

Dinner that night was a quiet affair, but it usually is. One of your favorite parts of living in the countryside is the silence that comes from having no close neighbors. You love the soft change in melody when the birds stop chirping and the night insects take over instead. You open the oven a tiny crack to check on your cooking (it’s progressing well) and then wander off to find your spouse. Ruggie is in the linen closet checking over your warm blankets; probably both counting the quantity and searching for holes that need mending. “How’s the inspection going?” you ask from behind. Ruggie heaves a tired sigh, “It’s all in order.” You tilt your head to the side, “You don’t sound happy about that.”

He grabs the collar of his shirt and looks at you accusingly, “It’s not right. Something doesn’t feel right. Life can’t be this easy. My life can’t be this easy.” He finishes quietly looking at you out of the corner of his eye. You step to his side and rub his back comfortingly. You’d chase all his demons away, if you could but you know this is a battle for him to conquer himself. You lay your head briefly on his shoulder and remark, “Diner will be done soon. Come sit down whenever you are ready.” Then you give him a kiss on the cheek and head back to the kitchen.

One of your favorite things about cooking for Ruggie is how thoroughly he enjoys his meals. He eats your simple fare with relish, lip-smacking after each course. “Seconds?” you ask impishly. He gives you a wide grin and holds out his plate. You put another helping on and he thanks you with his signature “Shishishi!” When you finally gauge that even a glutton like Ruggie has had his fill, you come over to collect his plate. You put your arm around him and kiss the top of his head, “All set?” He lets out a contented huff and puts his hand on your arm, “Yeah, I’m full.” You move to grab the plate, but he does not release your arm. You look down at him and he mutters, “So full.” Then he leans his head into your belly and closes his eyes. You move to give him a full embrace and lean your head on the top of his own.

The winter winds would come soon but what did it matter when your cottage was so filled with warm love.

#twst #twisted wonderland #househusband au #twisted wonderland x reader #ruggie x reader #ruggie bucci x reader #ruggie bucchi #twst x reader

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toomanygoldfish · 6 months

Text

At five you knew that you wanted a garden. A big garden that had all kinds of vegetables, fruit, and flowers. your grandfather would sit behind you as you plotted out your own garden, spinning tales of him and your grandmother planting their own.

Your grandfather's garden was one of the most magical places in the world. You remember him leading you through the wall of berry bushes, eating the different types of berries as he dutifully explained the care he put onto each bush.

Even as he got older he would still walk with you as you inspected the zucchini, tomatoes, grapes, and strawberries. Picking the rippest and bringing back your bounties to your mother and grandmother.

You would sit with wide eyes trying to take in everything as the adults canned the berries, grapes, and fruits. Watching as they made jam with the leftovers.

Your small little family could often be found behind a farmers market stall on Sundays. A small tired child leaning, with half lidded eyes, into their mothers side.

As your grandparents got older, the garden grew with them. With your grandfather sick, he was unable to take care of the garden. it grew over, it grew until the berry wall was reaching over into the grape trellises. The grape vines reach for safety on the garden wall, blocking the pathway from any wandering children.

Your grandfather passed away when you were ten. The night you found out you ran sobbing into his study. You shoved yourself into the space between the wall and the desk, your spot. You shook with sobs. He left. Why would he leave you?

Grandmother passed away soon after. She was inconsolable after her husband’s death, she was relieved when she fell ill. She was going to be happy with your grandfather. Just happy away from you.

Your mother sold the house. When you were thirteen. She let you keep anything you took. You ended up taking all of his books and his desk. For years the books were in boxes shoved in your closet, holding too many painful memories to open. From your closest in your childhood home they went into a storage complex, as you moved to college.

They only made a reappearance recently, when your fiancé when’s to grab some old paintings to decorate your new home. It was raining outside when you opened the box.

You felt your fiancé behind you as you peeled back the tape.

“Haji, I’m nervous. I haven’t looked at these books and papers since he died.”

“It's alright baby, I’ll be right behind you. You can take a break at any time, no one’s going to judge you” Iwaizumi reassured.

You bit your lip, eyes already welling up with tears as you opened the first book.

You and Iwaizumi had stayed up well into the morning going through every single book and paper in those boxes. The boxes were full of poem books, herbology books, and sketch books. But most sentimental to you were plans of a garden that you had made with your grandfather.

His writing was delicate behind your bold toddler strokes, explaining which plants to plant. Perhaps even better than that were sketches of trellises, benches, flower beds, and landscaping, all meant to surround that initial garden.

You fell asleep in Iwaizumi’s arms with tears staining your cheeks.

You and Hajime got married the next week. As he pulled you away from the crowd he whispered plans into your ear. Plans for a garden to be made. Just the two of you, working together to make the garden of your dreams.

**Time Skip**

Laughter filled your ears as you held a newborn in your arms. You look up to see Iwaizumi lifting your three year old high in the air, her face stained by raspberries, smiling big, and giggling. Her father looked at her like she was his world.

Your toddlers giggling gets louder as he spins around, coming to rest next to you. He sits down next to you, letting your toddler go to waddle over to the flowers. He kisses your cheek, wrapping his arms around your waist.

You love your garden built by hand over the course of three years. Hopefully one day your family will get bigger. But for now you're happy.

#haikyuu × reader #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu x you #haikyuu drabbles #haikyuu!!#haikyuu fics #iwaizumi fluff #iwaizumi imagines #iwaizumi x reader #iwaizumi scenarios #iwaizumi x you #iwaizumi x y/n #reqs open #the goldfish speak

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profound-jade · 1 year

Text

Supreme Support Reader

Cottage Core, Supreme Support Reader, basically I was feeling really bad about something in bed, like a lot then I remembered something that made me realise what I was agonising over for the last 20 minutes didn’t happen. The feeling of absolute relief I felt was incredible and as I relaxed in bed I thought about the reader having the divine power of making anyone happy, satisfied, and whatever good emotion they could want.

Like, maybe Xiao is feeling hurt today way more than usual only for him to bump into you accidentally while you're picking berries in the outskirts of Liyue for making jam and a feeling of happiness just flows into him when he is with you. Maybe, well definitely, he would be unable to control himself and goes up to hug you and this sense of unyielding happiness and relief just overwhelms him. It was like every last one of his cells were dying of thirst and hunger for months and a banquet of food and drinks were brought to them.

While Xiao is in sheer bliss, you are just a bit stunned about what happened before turning around and seeing that it’s Xiao, which calms you down. Still a bit confused, but seeing how happy he is and knowing his backstory you decide to just stay there for a bit.

Not just people in constant pain like Xiao react this way, ordinary people that are generally happy and satisfied with their daily lives are not that much better. It’s like something they can’t describe awakened within. It’s like something that was written inside their genes but was never activated. After being with you and having all their negative emotions solved, ones they had subconsciously and they consciously didn’t even know, before then being ubercharged with positive and happy emotions, they cannot go back to how things were before without you.

Ningguang had met you after you opened up a small stall in which you sold products that you made from various homegrown ingredients or stuff you got from foraging. The products were simple like jam from berries, homemade baking products like cookies and cakes, and other things like that. They were simple yet they filled something within the customers. It was like they had an itch they didn’t even know about being scratched as they ate your produce.

Ningguang had been curious so she went and bought some sweets you made without much expectation as she had already tasted all the finest cuisine in all of-holy fuck how are these so good?! She tried to buy out all the remaining stocks after that which yous topped as its not fair to the other customers.

Ningguang rather forcefully befriended you after that and you two started hanging out, doing and playing all sorts of simple things for hours on end like reading comic books, playing kids games, things that she would never have done by herself or anyone. The Tianquan’s time is measured in solid gold, something she carefully built a market for, could earn millions of Mora in just an hour or even. And yet, she now feels all the time she had spent earning those same mountains upon mountains of mora not even worth mentioning as she sat by a large tree, you in her arms reading a short story as the cool breeze flew by.

As the sun set and you returned home, so did Ningguang. Her thoughts raced as she thought about all the things you and her were going to do later on tomorrow despite knowing dang well she can’t possibly fit all those activities within even a month of time, much less a day. Ningguang met her frantic assistants at the Harbour, complaining to her about all the things they had to take care because of her absence, but Ningguang could only smile fondly of her memories today.

She made her way up to the Jade Chamber, and as she had walked into her bedroom, she could only stare at her queen sized bed with an empty look in her eyes. She had prioritised Mora and the Jade Chamber above all else for her entire life but now she suddenly feels the lavish and large abode she lived in was empty and shallow.

Ningguang clutched the part where her heart was under, treating her fine silken garments with force she never would’ve dreamed of before. Ah, this feeling has returned once again. It had been bearable, she suppose. This feeling had sprouted and quickly grew the moment she had met you. It was a feeling she was quite familiar with, something that was imprinted onto her since childhood.

Greed. This intense feeling grew by the moment and with each day, Ningguang’s fantasies of taking you for herself grew more from a shameful thought to a full out plan. Construction and ordering of all kinds of things for turning her private chambers into the two of you’s home was sent out.

Had that not happened first, it probably won’t happen for a while as whoever first finds you gets you.

Maybe when Beidou returned to the harbour to celebrate for newest accomplishment, she saw a single glance at you before being completely stunned in place. Her pupils widened and she made her mind up on the spot to have you for herself.

Childe brushes hands with you on the streets before shamelessly going and straight up grabs yours before flirting.

What if you were in another nation, say Inazuma? Ei would go from meditating and thinking about how eternity and all that is great before instantly changing her mind after meeting you for like 5 minutes and forcefully marrying you and making you live in the palace, the puppet Shogun completely agreeing with her decision. No 200 year long duel needed.

Or, if things get really spicy, all of this and more somehow happens. Maybe you were a small merchant living in nature and just around selling things you made, seducing and charming anyone you made semi-contact with. Because of that, powerful people and characters that could influence the world were just silently stepping on each other's shoes under the table and they begrudgingly shared a picnic table with you outside, them not wanting to scare you being the only reason they haven’t pulled out their weapons and activated their visions yet.

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jungle-angel · 11 months

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Sticky Fingers (Rhett Abbott x Reader)

Summary: After you and Rhett had moved the family to Montana, one of your best memories with Amy was made

The morning sun peaked high above the Gallatin Mountains, the fresh morning air rolling across the flatness of the land that had become yours and Rhett’s. The horses had gone out to graze while the air of early summer was warmer than usual and the birds had begun to sing. A magpie flew from one tree on the property to the other while a clutch of bluebirds had gathered at the birdfeeder in your garden.

You carried little Amy downstairs, her wild little blonde curls finally tamed just enough for her to be presentable. You had dressed her in a pale pink summer dress you had made for her and you were sure that the older ladies who sat near you and Rhett during church services would be absolutely head over heals for Amy.

Down the stairs you went to the kitchen to find a shirtless Rhett near the stove, his body still marked with years of hard work, his muscles still well formed as ever as his black Nike basketball shorts hung low on his hips. “Are my girlies awake?” he teased as he switched on the stove and began cutting up the thick slap of heavily peppered bacon.

“Good morning Daddy,” you chuckled as you met him with a kiss.

Amy let out a delighted squeal as Rhett picked her up out of your arms, littering her cheeks with kissed. “Oh my princess,” he half laughed, his voice still low and deep from having just woken up. “You are getting to be too much.”

Amy giggled again as Rhett tickled her sides and kissed her pretty little cheeks. He cracked a few eggs into the pan with one hand, carefully placing a few strips of bacon in with them, all the while keeping Amy secure in the crook of his elbow.

You checked the pantry to see what else you had, hoping you had enough to bake your seven layer Reese’s cookies for Rose Black Moon and her husband after they had helped Rhett fix the fence. You checked that off the list taped to the wall along with the vegetables you had promised to give to Rip and Beth later in the week. Yet one look at the mason jars and you noticed that the preserves were getting low, the jars scraped so thin that there was hardly anything left to them.

“You good darlin?” Rhett asked when he saw the puzzled expression on your face.

“I think I need to go and pick the excess berries off the bushes in the garden,” you told him. “Looks like the preserves are getting low.”

Rhett made a face that you knew a little too well at this point, the I may or may not have eaten it all on my toast look.

You smiled a little but didn’t say a word, taking Amy from him so he could finish cooking. You gathered up a little wicker basket and brought Amy out into the garden where she could run barefoot until you had what you needed.

You went about picking off the excess of blackberries, raspberries and blueberries in the early morning sunshine, the encroaching heat of summer evident in the air. Carefully, you twisted and picked the berries off the branches, listening to Amy’s little giggles as she chased a butterfly or a bumblebee that happened to be perched on the flowers in the beds or the lilac bush near the porch.

It wasn’t long before you had filled at least three baskets full of the perfectly ripe berries. You began to pick off the fat, purple huckleberries on a bush that Royal had given you, their sweet scent filling your nostrils as you had begun to imagine what you could make with them, preserves, jam, muffins, scones, pies, something to mix into a drink......yet the quiet calm of your imaginings was abruptly broken when you heard those familiar little giggles again. When you turned and saw Amy running up to you, her face, mouth and fingers all stained with deep purple.

“My little sweet pea!” you exclaimed, pretending to be stern. “Did you get into the huckleberries again??”

Amy’s little grin grew wider and her giggles louder as you picked her up and brought her right into the house. Rhett was still in the kitchen, just having finished plating the eggs, bacon and lightly toasted barley bread. A laugh escaped his throat when he saw Amy all covered in those purple stains.

“Yikes princess!” he laughed. “Looks like ya’ll ran right through Momma’s berry bush.”

“She must’ve ate her weight in them Rhett,” you said, unable to control the broad smile on your face.

Rhett laughed again as he ran a washcloth under the warm water in the sink, taking Amy into his arms. He would’ve had her face cleaned sooner, but the two year old was far too quick, her purple stained mouth placing sloppy, sticky kisses all over his cheeks.

“Alright princess,” Rhett told her. “Time to get your face clean.”

The two of you had one of the best laughs you’d had in a long time. Rhett ran the washcloth over every last inch of Amy’s face and fingers, happy and grateful that one of your first memories had been built in your new home.

#rhett abbott #rhett abbott x reader #amy abbott #outer range

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adoremoonie · 4 months

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The Mixed Legacy Challenge for The Sims 3

This is (gonna be) a 10 generation legacy challenge. I came up with this challenge simply because I could not decide what legacy challenge I wanted to do so I did a mix of all my favourite ones. Including Not So Berry, Jam Legacy, Zodiac Legacy & All In One Lepacy! So all credit goes to the creators! ପ(๑•ᴗ•๑)ଓ

Rules: ☆ Finish the rules of every generation, but there are different options for some generations so you can do whatever fits your gameplay preference more!

☆ There is a color for every generation if you want berry sims etc!

☆ There is a family trait that you choose that every generation heir will have. If you can't have a trait because of your family trait you just swap out that one for one similiar!

☆ You got to have this mod to be able to give your sims all the traits I have given them OR you could cheat them when they age up and change them in CAS OR just give them 1-2 of the traits. Would also recommend NRAAS mod aswell because of the money changes etc!

☆ Most importantly do what you want and have fun!

Now for the generations...

Generation 1: Purple You left everything you know behind, escape your past for a new beginning. Finally start that family you always wanted with someone new. You want to change, but can you?

Traits: Family Trait, Kleptomaniac, Nurturing, Rebellious, Frugal Job: Start at the cemetery then switch to criminal OR kleptomaniac full time LTW: Become a master chief OR The emperor of evil OR Possession is Nine Tenths of the law

☆ Master athletic and martial arts skills ☆ Use the kleptomaniac trait to provide for your family ☆ Get with your partner and marry them fast ☆ Get the death flower (perhaps at the cemetery?) ☆ 3 or more children

Generation 2: Yellow You don’t want to end up like your parent. You have dreams, big dreams! And you will do everything to be the biggest star, hopefully your family name won’t ruin that.

Traits: Family Trait, Star Quality, Diva, Lucky, Ambitious Job: Singer LTW: Vocal Legend OR Lifestyle of the rich and famous

☆ Have a band as a teenager ☆ When you become an YA you quit the band to go solo ☆ Master an instrument (guitar, piano etc) ☆ Become a five star celebrity ☆ Marry a big celebrity ☆ Only have one child

Generation 3: Red You lived in luxury thanks to your parent but did that make you a little spoiled? Maybe. you say as you move to a big mansion in the tropics. But you do actually have a job! You are a lifeguard and you save tons of cute tourists everyday. Yeah, maybe you did buy an hotel just to flex but can't be that hard to run one of those?

Traits: Family, Great kisser, Loves to swim OR Sailor, Party animal, Snob Job: Lifeguard then Resort owner LTW: Resort Empire OR Seaside Savior

☆ Have only one child ☆ Buy and run an hotel when you are an adult ☆ Reach level 5 of scuba diving ☆ Have one of those people you saved OR a mermaid be your future partner ☆ Own a house boat

Generation 4: Blue You had a little bit of a rough childhood, sure you were rich but your snobby parent barely gave you any of that rich money so you start working on cars on the side to make some side money, but turns out you LOVE it. You’ve always craved that big family life and you will spoil your children rotten in ALL the ways.

Traits: Family Trait, Family oriented, Slob, Schmoozer, Vehicle Enthusiast LTW: Surrounded by Family Job: Work at a part-time job OR Daycare before you quit to start making cars for a living

☆ Meet your partner in high school and marry as soon as you both age up to YA ☆ Be best friend with all your children ☆ Fix up ATLEAST 10 cars ☆ Throw family parties every season ☆ Buy every thing your children wishes for

Generation 5: Green You had an amazing but messy childhood. You had everything. A big loving family! But that also meant no privacy and you couldn’t do what you love the most without your siblings disturbing, science. So now you just want to be alone.

Traits: Family Trait, Loner, Eccentric, Neat, Grumpy LTW: Monster Maker Job: Science Career or none

☆ Move to a new town and the house should be as far away from the town as possible and never move out ☆ Make imaginary friend real ☆ Have ONE friend ☆ Marry your (only) friend OR an alien/imaginary friend/simbot ☆ Master the inventing skill ☆ Build two simbots optional: have an alien baby

Generation 6: Pink Having been stuck in the same town, in the same house, you need something new! You need adventure! And you want to capture it all. But you also have to get home to look after your plants.

Traits: Family Trait, Daredevil, Outgoing, Gatherer/Green Fingers, Adventurous LTW: World class gallery OR Great explorer

☆ Go to China, Egypt and France ☆ Master the photographing and gardening skills ☆ Complete atleast 3 thombs at each location ☆ Marry someone from China, France or Egypt ☆ Get atleast one VISA ☆ Have a big garden with every plant

Generation 7: Orange You have always loved horses, a horse girl (or boy, or person) if you will. But having your own horses and a big ranch is expensive and your parent wasted it all on traveling so you work smart not hard!

Traits: Family Trait, Equestrian, Horse Lover, Dislikes children, Mooch LTW: Gold Digger OR The Jockey Job: Any job before you get married then quit

☆ Start with 30 000 simoleons ☆ Marry rich and have them mysteriously die ☆ Master the nectar making skill and riding skills ☆ Win a competition on the highest level for racing ☆ Have 3 or more horses ☆ Have twins

Generation 8: Grey Yes you are twins, you look exactly like each other but your personalities couldn’t be more different. One of you got your nose in the books since you had the chance, always got good grades, got the diploma and finally got your dream job. While the other wasn’t as lucky in school, it was just too hard but you still go to university with your twin and you might have not gotten the best grades but you sure had fun and also met your soulmate.

☆ Have both twins as heir ☆ Go to university with both twins

Twin 1 Traits: Family Trait, Over-emotional, Irresistible, Workaholic, Non-Committal Job: Politcian OR Doctor LTW: Master Romancer OR perfect student ☆ Have a rocky relationship with your partner/partners ☆ Get married for the first time as an older elder ☆ Max charisma skill ☆ Only have one child or none ☆ Good grades ☆ Get the naughty reputation Optional: Get two diplomas

Twin 2 Traits: Family Trait, Loser, Artistic, Easily impressed, Nurturing LTW: Jack of all trades ☆ Have 5 or more different jobs ☆ Get fired from at least 3 jobs ☆ Meet the love of your life in university ☆ Max painting OR sculpting skill ☆ Bad grades ☆ Have two or more children ☆ Help children with all skills ☆ Get the Eternally Faithful reputation

Generation 9: Plum Your parent got you this supernatural book for you when you were a kid about werewolves, witches, vampires… All of it! Ever since then you have been hooked. Can you find it out in the real world too? And of course, your cat is sleeping right beside you while you read.

Traits: Family Trait, Bookworm, Supernatural Fan, Socially Awkward OR Brooding, Cat Lover LTW: Any from the Supernatural expension Job: Fortune teller OR Ghost hunter

☆ Max the writing skill (writing supernatural books) ☆ Don’t have a tv in your house, only books and computer ☆ Marry a supernatural creature ☆ Become a supernatural creature ☆ Own 3 cats or more Optional: Find cure to become human again

Generation 10: Turquoise

In the works...

If you play this challenge you can use the hashtag #mixed legacy or tag me!

and please give any feedback you might have! ૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა

#ts3 challenge #ts3 legacy #sims 3 #ts3 #sims 3 legacy #sims 3 legacy challenge #mixed legacy

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nostalgiachan · 1 month

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The Aftermath

Twenty-Third Prompt: What is everyone up to a year after the game?

C/W: Blood, alcohol consumption, mildly NSFW in some parts. Somebody gets naked.

Summary: Vier struggles to remember just what the hell happened at Karlach's Big Birthday Bash. (2237 words)

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Vier awoke face-down in the grass, the taste of blood and bile fresh in her mouth. Every muscle in her body ached as she struggled simply to push herself up to her knees. Her vision swam, and a searing pain set her head to throbbing. Slowly, her view came into focus, and as she looked down at herself, she reeled as she saw her front absolutely smothered with dried blood. Her pulse began to race as she raised her head, and her eyes were met with a dire sight:

A field littered with bodies. The bodies of those she loved.

Tables had been overturned. Scorch marks carved a path across the field, and the ground was pockmarked from what looked to be explosions. A wild bear lay in a puddle of its own blood, and–

“Wait…a bear?”

Through the haze of pain and confusion, the gears of Vier’s mind falteringly ground into motion. It was a long and arduous moment before the thought finally formed.

“...There are no bears in Dawnshire.”

With a groan, Vier pushed herself onto wobbly legs and stumbled her way towards the prone ursine. The closer she got, the more she could smell something that was certainly not blood - no, it was the unmistakably pungent smell of particularly strong alcohol. Eventually, she grew close enough that she could see the bear wasn’t dead, but merely sleeping in a puddle of…feywine. The bear also had a familiar scar on its face, a gnarly scratch across the left side of its forehead.

The sight of that scar was like pulling out a piece of debris jammed between the cogs, and hazy memories finally began to drift up from the inner workings.

The previous night had been Karlach’s birthday party, the one Vier had been working for so long to put together. Their infernal friend, Hope, had surprised them all by not only transporting Karlach and Wyll to Dawnshire, but gathering up just about every other friend who’d wished to attend. Having portals to almost every major metropolitan area in the Sword Coast conveniently located in the House of Hope certainly had its benefits, it seemed. Even Lae’zel, who Vier absolutely hadn’t expected would be able to pull herself away from the war effort in the Astral Plane, had arrived in person.

Everything had gone off without a hitch, she remembered. She’d had the finest food the local butchers and bakers could prepare, there were beverages for every sort of palate, she’d invited bards from the area to perform. Everyone was enjoying themselves to the fullest, and as dusk gave way to night, it was nearly time for the fireworks to begin.

And that was when Astarion had produced the Decanter of Endless Wine, loaded with feywine.

“...Aw, fuck, that’d do it.”

More and more, the memories flooded back. She’d been the first to partake, and it had been just as Astarion had described it - “sweet as summer berries, with a minxy little kick”. Very lovely, very dangerous, the sort of wine that quietly crept up on you and took you when you least expected it. It did not, however, creep up on the non-elves among them, also as Astarion had described. As Vier found herself pouring a second glass while setting up the fireworks, she wondered if Astarion had actually told anyone what it was they were drinking, considering its potentially deleterious effects.

Given the state of things, Vier had to surmise the answer was “no”.

As far as she could remember, Gale had been the first to fall under the drink’s effects, deciding he wished to engage Rolan in a “contest of illusions”. The tiefling’s siblings, Cal and Lia, had egged their brother on, themselves beginning to slip under the feywine’s influence. There was some shouting and boasting about “the Wizard of Waterdeep” and “the master of Ramazith’s Tower” before the two began to conjure increasingly complicated illusions; an impressive feat for ones so inebriated, to be sure.

Soon, the dueling wizards were summoning up terrifying beasts, until at last, one of them - Vier could not remember the culprit, but had a sneaking suspicion it was Gale - called upon a projection of an Elder Brain. At that moment, a battle cry sounded out.

“Ghaik! Mha stil’na forjun inyeri!” Lae’zel screamed, apparently so lost to the feywine that she thought the illusion was real. She unsheathed her silver sword and charged, nearly skewering both wizards entirely in her madness. Vaguely, she could remember hearing Astarion and Shadowheart having an absolute blast at the show, both well into their third cups.

While their antics had proved wonderfully entertaining, they’d also distracted Vier from her work. She’d returned her attention to the fireworks, and must have missed the exact moment that she’d lost Jaheira, Minsc, and Halsin to the drink. As she set up the mortars in neat lines, something incredibly hot and incredibly heavy suddenly crashed into her, taking her off her feet entirely.

“Godsdamn, you got me whizbangs and everything!” Karlach cheered as she practically grappled Vier on the ground, rubbing their faces together like an excited puppy. “Aww, you’re the best, Vier!”

Wyll quickly came scrambling up behind her, attempting to untangle the two. “Careful there, hot stuff,” he gently chided her. “Explosives, remember? Don’t want to go setting them off early.”

“Ugh, fine,” she pouted as she finally released Vier from her grip and allowed Wyll to haul her up to her feet. “Oi, where’s Dammon gone off to? Need to bend his ear about some stuff. And maybe get more of that…what’d Gale call it? Aqua vitae?”

“Honestly, I think you might’ve had enough for now,” Wyll laughed as he led her away, though even in the low light on the edge of the party grounds, Vier could see he looked a bit concerned for her. Vier couldn’t help but smile; Karlach was in good hands with him.

From that point, the memories grew vague once more. She’d finished setting up the fireworks; had yet another glass of feywine; at some point, Lae’zel’s war against the illusory Elder Brain came to an end, and thankfully, both Gale and Rolan had kept their heads intact; there was something about Lae’zel using Shadowheart’s lap as a pillow.

Of course, her recollection grew sharper once more when Astarion appeared. He’d fallen atop her almost as hard as Karlach had, though he’d notably been stone sober. As he wrapped his arms about her from behind, he purred directly into her ear, “Darling, I think I’ve waited just about long enough. Everyone’s good and drunk now, so I’d like to get good and drunk now, if you wouldn’t mind.”

A flush quickly crept across Vier’s skin as Astarion breathed into her ear. “Wait, you want to do that here? Just out in the open?”

“Well, we could sneak off into the bush if you require some privacy,” he said with a smirk, “but I think everyone else is too preoccupied to pay attention to us. We can try that little trick like last time.”

The way Vier’s vision had just begun to tilt spoke that perhaps she shouldn’t attempt “that little trick”, but her inhibition had grown just loose enough that she’d make the attempt anyway. Nervously, she offered her throat to him. “Alright, just…try to be quiet about it, yeah?”

“Oh, if anyone here’s in danger of making noise, darling, it’s you,” Astarion whispered dangerously into her ear before he sank his fangs directly into her neck. The familiar sensation of bliss coursed through her veins as surely as her blood left them, the sound of his greedy swallowing the only noise between the two of them. She bit down hard on her lower lip as he drew more and more from her. The moment the telltale dizziness set in, she raised a hand to restore herself, and she could almost feel her blood regenerating.

Astarion gripped Vier’s head to hold her steady as they entered the second round. The more he drank, the tighter he held onto her, seemingly desperate not to miss a drop. But as he lost himself in the feeding, he began to grow messy. By the second restoration, Vier’s blood was beginning to pool around Astarion’s lips; soon, it trickled, then ran in great rivulets down her neck, staining the front of her blouse a deep crimson.

Between the blood loss and the undeniable pleasure of feeding, it was getting harder for either of them to keep quiet. At the third and final restoration, Astarion finally released his hold on Vier, unsheathing himself from her throat with a deep, satisfied moan.

“Gods, it’s like I can taste the sunlight in your veins,” he exalted, “or maybe that’s just the wine.”

As soon as the words left his lips, he seemed to have a moment of revelation.

“Oh. Oh, shit. That might be a problem. Darling, how much have you had to drink again?”

As soon as the world stood still for a second, Vier got to thinking. “I think I’m on, er…four glasses? Why? What’s wrong?”

“Well, there’s a certain old vampire wives’ tale that says if you feed on the inebriated, you’ll pick up their inebriation. So I might wind up just a bit drunker than drunk.” But he waved away the concern with a flourish of his arms. “But I’m sure it’ll be fine! Probably not as bad as it might be if you weren’t a drow. Maybe. Most likely.”

With a bow, he said, “Well, my sweet, I’m off to harass the birthday girl some more while I wait for all this boozed-up blood to kick in. Try not to blow yourself up!”

As soon as Astarion sauntered away, Vier noticed a growing clarity washing over her. She’d restored herself to complete sobriety. Well, she thought, that won’t do at all.

Present Vier was deeply, deeply disappointed in Past Vier’s decision making, as she’d decided to hit the feywine even harder the second time around, making everything after that point an almost total blur. She remembered watching Karlach receive her present, a fantastic new set of infernal iron armor hand-crafted by Dammon. She’d gone to start launching the fireworks, but Karlach had asked if she could do the honors. With a flick of her thumb, she lit the first mortar, and that had been when all the hells had broken loose.

Through some freak accident, the tube tilted and the firework launched sideways, exploding into another of the mortars and starting off a chain reaction. Fireworks launched in every which direction. There were screams in about every language spoken on the face of Toril. Karlach had howled with mad laughter and started picking up some of the mortars and actively aiming them around, starting a firework war as drunken combatants picked up armaments of their own, or even magically conjured projectiles. Tables were flipped for cover. Half the party-goers, and more than a few fighters, had fled for the trees.

She could vaguely remember huddling for shelter behind a crate with Astarion, who had given her a quick, but deep, kiss - his mouth still thick with the taste of her blood - before he dove into the fold, eager for action. After that, all was darkness.

Well, there was nothing to do now, she supposed, but take stock of where everyone ended up. Most had simply fallen asleep in the open field, either alone or in small piles of closest friends and family. A few remained tucked into the trees - Jaheira and Minsc, notably, had remained absolutely sober and looked rather comfortable in a series of vine hammocks Jaheira had conjured up. Astarion, at some point of the evening, had been stuffed into an empty crate; for his own safety, Vier left him inside, as the sun had already cleared the treeline.

Soon, all had been accounted for; all, save for Karlach and Wyll. Vier hoped that they hadn’t already returned to the House of Hope, especially without saying goodbye. The longer she searched, the more she began to feel a bit guilty for all of the drunken shenanigans. Karlach certainly seemed like she’d had fun, which was all Vier had wanted, but she’d also hoped she’d have a nice, relaxing night away from Avernus, not violence and explosions.

But as soon as she stumbled upon the pair, she knew her fears had been unfounded.

The first sign she found of their continued presence on this plane was a discarded pair of boots - clearly Wyll’s. She followed the trail of cast-off shoes, shirts, pants through the woods until at last, she found Wyll and Karlach, stark naked and tangled up in one another, blissfully sleeping in the dappled sunlight beneath a tree. She didn’t want to stare overlong, but damn it, there was just something beautiful about the scene.

Had they been able to have a moment like that together in Avernus? Just the two of them, finally indulging their feelings for one another? Or did the endless onslaught of demons offer them little time for such luxuries? While it was a selfish thought, Vier hoped that last night had given them the chance to get out everything they needed to. In any case, she was deeply happy for them, and while she knew Karlach and Wyll would need to return to the hells quite soon, she wasn’t going to wake them up from that well-earned dream just yet.

#my writing #baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate 3 fanfiction #bg3 fanfic #astarion x tav #wyll x karlach #gale dekarios #bg3 rolan #shadowheart #lae'zel #halsin #astarion #drow tav #cleric tav #vier alurlssrin

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evolutionsvoid · 1 year

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“First, have you ever heard of smaragdine tree wasps? Probably not, but you do know them. Most folk just yell WASP when they see them then fight or flight the situation. No one really bothers to learn their name, which is a real shame, but that’s not the point. One name I do know you know is the brimble tree. How could you not? I mean, who hasn’t enjoyed some brimbleberries or made some delicious brimbleberry jam? It’s a classic! A staple! Well, it turns out that the smaragdine tree wasp is a pollinator for the brimble tree. In fact, it is the only pollinator. The only insect that does the deed that lets us all have some wonderful brimbleberries. And we aren’t the only ones! Plenty of other species partake in the crop, be it bird, mammal or bug. Some insect species lay their eggs only on brimble leaves, and plenty of arboreal critters make their nests amongst the branches. Those berries and those trees are vital to a lot of creatures, which makes the smaragdine tree wasp so important. But yet, nobody thinks twice about them when they are swatting them with a newspaper or spraying their nests with poison. Just thought of as a pest or a threat, to the point where nobody notices them when they are gone.

If you were to ask anyone about the dying wasps, they would probably be thrilled. One less menace to your outdoor picnics, one less pest to spray for. But the brimble trees care, and so does everything that relies on those trees. No one thinks a little bug like that makes a difference but it sure does! With them gone from all the pesticides and such, we would soon be seeing the effects of their absence. No pollinator means no brimbleberries, which means no food for the woodland critters and no new brimble trees. And what will that lead to? What other species will lose their homes and food sources? Who else will fall once the brimble trees come tumbling down? Listen, your honor, I never thought in my life I would become a necromancer, but-”

#had this stuck in my head all day #sorry have to get it out somehow

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da-birb-writes-sometimes · 9 months

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Though The Path May Be Long, I Shall Find You; Jack Howl

A path lies ahead, some are more treacherous than others. At the end of the winding, coloured footsteps is where they can rest; a bird directing them forward, made out of precious stone.

Main Character; Jack Howl

Supporting Roles; Jack's parents, Vil Schoenheit (if you squint), Leona Kingscholar, bird messengers

Content; Soulmate AU (I use the term soul match), gender-neutral reader, this can be read as platonic, familial, or romantic, made up some lore for Jack's family, hurt/comfort (but not as much as the others)

Content Warning; brief violence (not reader or Jack), some swearing, nightmares (reader)

Word Count; 5 K

Do not put mine - or other creators’ - works into AI; that shit steals.

Prologue & Leona's Story | Ruggie's Story

Winter was in the air, despite it only being the start of September. But this was the Shaftlands, winter always came early, and a thin blanket of snow would be covering the ground before the end of the month. Jack was out picking berries with his father, as his mother was out hunting game to fill their freezer for the long winter nights. The Howl family was stocked up on almost everything, but having some fresh and rare cloudberries were always welcomed; especially during the long nights that were to come. A raven flew overhead and came to rest on his father’s shoulder, croaking into his ear.

Jack’s ears perked up, but he continued picking berries, trying to overhear the conversation between his father and his messenger, made from sodalite. Hmm, oh there’s a large patch over there! Dad’s busy so he wouldn’t notice if I went ahead and picked those!

“What news do you bring,” the older man asked the bird. A particular harsh wind rustled through the evergreens. Seems like winter would be here early this year, earlier than usual.

The raven puffed up, and shook their head. “The Mrs has harvested a moose, a large bull. Enough to feed the household until spring.”

Mr Howl nodded his head and his raven was off again, going back to reunite with the others. “Jack?” He called out. Nothing. “Jack?!” He looked to where he was earlier, but he wasn’t there. “JACK?!” He shouted, causing birds to leave the trees in a panic. “JACK HOWL?!”

Jack was still busy picking berries, and he stopped upon hearing the echoing, concerned, yelling of his dad. How had he gotten so far away? “Dad? I’m over here dad!” He stayed calm, and stayed put. Should you ever get lost, stay put. Should you panic and run more you’ll only get yourself more lost. He got up on a rock and waved his arms, in the hope that his dad would notice the movement. “I’m over here! DAD?!”

A twig snapped in the undergrowth, and Jack stopped. The wind was moving towards him and he could smell something, something dangerous. He wedged himself into a narrow rock overhang and held his breath. Slow padded footsteps thudded outside and soon he could see the brown fur of a brown bear outside of his hiding place. And he could hear and feel the hot breath entering the crevice.

“JACK?!” His dad shouted, and all he saw was something white and furry fighting the bear. But it wasn’t his dad, it was his mom. “Jack, come on! Hurry!” His dad forcibly dragged him out of his hiding spot and made a beeline home.

…

“What were you thinking,” his mom inspected his face, looking for any marks, even though during the fight with the brown bear a claw had left a gash on her shoulder blade. “I told you to stay with your dad while out foraging-”

Jack’s eyebrows were knotted, and his lip trembled. His mother stopped and cupped his face.

“Love,” she embraced him in a crushing hug, “we were worried about you. Please, just stick near us. Okay? You’re okay, Jack.”

Jack squeezed her back, tail in between his legs. “I’m sorry Mom.” He just wanted to pick some cloudberries, his mom’s favourite. He wanted to surprise her with enough so that they could make some jam together. But all the berries that he had picked had been destroyed during the fight. It was all for naught.

A light knock on the front door made him stop, and his mother went to answer it. At the door stood a blond boy a few years older than Jack, bright amethyst eyes looking up. “Excuse me, Mrs. Howl, but can I play with Jack?”

Jack��s mom looked at Vil, taking mind to make sure her wound dressing was still covered. “Sorry Vil, but-” she stopped and looked towards her son. “But, you’ll have to play here, in the yard.”

Jack looked up, asking silently for permission, and his mom nodded a yes. “What do you wanna play,” he asked excitedly, grabbing some of their usual play things.

Vil smiled, and helped bring the toys outside. “Hmmm, what about knights? Trying to save the village?”

And the two boys went off and played. Vil would continue to visit every day, until a large ice storm rolled in on Jack’s fifth birthday, forcing everyone to stay inside.

That night, as Jack was starting to fall asleep, he looked outside. The ice had temporarily stopped, and a bright orange moon hung in the sky. Green and blue auroras painting the night sky. Jack didn’t know what to ask for when it came to his messenger. He knew it was going to be a raven, as it was customary for a raven to form a bond with a wolf pup.

“Can I,” he paused, thinking. What do I want? “Can I have someone there for me?” He was about to turn in for the night, but an unseasonably warm wind opened the window. He rushed to close it, and when he looked down there was a raven messenger, but it wasn’t made out of typical stone. It was made of petrified wood; representing trust, grounding, and knowledge. But he didn’t know that, all he knew was that he had a raven. That he had a soul match. That’s all that mattered.

…

Jack placed his belongings down on the floor and the desk beside his bed, looking over the room. He didn’t know what to expect of Savanaclaw, but he was thankful that he at least had a dorm, unlike the one student. They also smelled… different, not a bad different, but different. They didn’t smell like they were from Twisted Wonderland, that they were from somewhere entirely different. But that wasn’t any of his business, and he wasn’t about to poke his nose into someone else’s business, let alone a complete stranger.

He shook his head and started placing his items where he thought they would go best. And since he was now in a place temperate enough without any harsh winters, he could finally start growing some plants he saw in a book once; some cacti. The little green plants spoke to him; they survived in harsh conditions and adapted to not only survive but to strive. He could appreciate that, even if the plant did prick him every so often, he couldn’t blame it for doing so, that’s what the spines are meant for.

His mind wandered, wondering if his siblings were doing okay? He knew that his parents were more than capable of looking after them, but he still worried. Ever since his mom fought off that bear, she hasn’t been able to use her left arm like she normally did; weaker from nerve damage. Her raven also had the scar, and couldn’t fly due to it. But she never alluded that she was in pain, keeping on a brave face for Jack, and later on for his siblings.

Jack looked down to his raven. Unlike the others, his raven was made of fossilized wood, preserved throughout the aeons. He turned it over gently, his hands dwarfing it in comparison. It would stay small, small enough to hold until his soul match’s bird awoke… that is if he had one at all. Apparently, messengers made out of anything other than stone were rare and could be seen as a blessing, but also as a warning. A warning that hardships may await them in the future. He didn’t want to dwell on that though, he had a messenger so that in itself proved that there was someone out there for him. Be they a friend, found family, or life partners, like his parents.

“What lessons do you hold,” he asked quietly, ears twitching making sure the coast was clear. He placed the wooden bird on his desk carefully, and when he was satisfied, he left the room, heading off to the dining hall.

A cold breeze entered the room, which was rare for the Savanaclaw dorm. It carried the smell of snow, pine trees, and a lone snowflake landed on the wood raven, resting between their eyes. They shook their head and stretched out their wings, flexing them for the first time. The cold wind was gone as soon as it came, the warmth from the sun-baked stone returning.

The raven hopped to the window sill, looking out to the rapidly setting sun. “The time is nigh. They are here.” And they took off, but not to find Jack.

…

You couldn’t sleep, but what could you really expect? You had just arrived to this ‘Twisted Wonderland’ and everything you knew had been flipped upside down. Magic was real. There are merfolk, fae, and beastmen?! All of the fairy tales were true but they were Disney-fied; honestly that probably saved your butt, since the originals are… well you would have had fewer chances of survival let’s just say that.

“I swear if I see one more Mickey Mouse easter-egg-” you muttered under your breath, rubbing your temples. It didn’t help that your new place, Ramshackle Dorm, was not up to code. How that ‘Headmage’ thought the decaying mansion was suitable to live in was beyond you. To be fair, he does seem to be quite a few screws loose.

A gust of cold wind blew the windows open and you scrambled to close them. When you finally got them closed a low croaking was behind you. You turned around and on your bed were two ravens, but they looked to be made of stone instead of flesh and feathers. “Finally arrived, I see,” the one said, hopping up to stand on the bed frame.

You blinked a few times, but the ravens were still there. “Uhhhh, I just got here.” You had already been exposed to so much today that, sure why not, talking stone birds are totally normal now. Totally normal. Nope, not internally freaking out. You are totally zen. WHAT THE FUCK IS HAPPENING?! Not having an existential crisis. Everything is normal here.

“We have been waiting many years for you,” the other raven spoke, their voice being deeper than the previous one. They stood stoically, unlike the more hyper one which was tracing patterns in the hole-ridden bedsheets. “However, there is much to learn here. You must grow before I or your messenger digress any further information. For now, know this; many a hardship will fall your way, but you must stand tall. You are stronger than you give yourself credit for.” They bowed to you and took flight, exiting through the window from whence they came, leaving you alone with the more playful bird.

Many a hardship will come your way. You had just gotten here and that cryptic line of advice sounded more like a warning than something comforting. I must stand tall? I’m stronger than I give myself credit for? Haven’t I already received enough character development? I just… I want to go home.

You felt a soft tap tap tap on your hand. The raven had stopped making patterns and was sitting beside you, looking up at you. “Come now, it has been a long enough day for you. You cannot do anything if you are not well rested. Off to bed with you now, shoo shoo!” They flapped at you with their wings.

You planted your feet down, and stopped. “And why should I listen to you?!” You snapped. For all that you knew, this could be a prank, a hazing ceremony of sorts.

The raven stopped and calmed down. “I am a part of you. Once you awaken tomorrow, I shall tell you everything that you ought to know.”

You would have protested more, but in all honestly all of your energy had been drained throughout the day. The mattress was hard and lumpy, the sheets thin and with holes, but you fell asleep quickly. The wood raven silently looking after you.

“King of Beasts,” they said in a hushed tone, looking up to the moonless night. “Make haste, for many a challenge will face them. Send their match on his quest for them… before something else finds them.”

…

When Jack got back to his dorm it was dark out, being held back by a fight between Leona and the Diasomnia housewarden. But when he opened the door he stilled. When he left, his wood raven was sitting on his desk, and now it was flying around and collecting anything shiny it could find. “Oh, this would make for a lovely present, yes, yes, that will do nicely!”

His soul match was finally here then. He should have felt happy, but all he felt was confusion. Should I be… happy? “What are you doing?” He asked the raven, as it had made a mess of his side of the room.

The raven squawked, and dropped a coin it was carrying. “Ah, Jack, my good fellow! Finally back I see! Oh, I’m just gathering up some exquisite gifts for you to give to your match!” They presented all of the ‘presents’ they had collected; several coins, a bobby pin, and some dryer lint. “Are they not lovely?”

Jack’s ears pulled back, “You didn’t have to do that, I can do it myself.” He wouldn’t classify any of those gifts 'exquisite’ or ‘lovely’. “Nevermind that. How are you alive?” He already knew the answer but he wanted to hear it, to have confirmation that this was real. That this was really happening.

The raven hopped down to the floor and bit at his tail, hard.

“HEY-”

“There, proof that I’m alive. There should be a bruise tomorrow as well.” The raven looked smug, and puffed up with pride. “Oh your meeting shall be splendid! Their raven and I have it all planned out-”

“No,” he interjected. “Nothing is planned out, it’s not your place to plan how, when, or where, we meet. Don’t force them to do anything.” He didn’t want to force his match with anything, even if both of their birds wanted nothing more than to plan some horribly cheesy scene. “We will meet when we meet.”

The raven stilled in its actions, looking at the things it had collected. “Which will be when, Jack? It has been over ten years since you received me.”

Jack pushed his hair out of his face, centering himself. “I’m not sure, but one day. It could be tomorrow. It could be a week. Months. Or years. But we will meet when we deem ourselves ready. That isn’t for you to decide… So please, let us do it on our own terms.” He sighed, and sat down. He wasn’t planning on any of this happening and it was only his first day at Night Raven College, and there was still yet more to come.

…

Jack had adjusted to life in Savanaclaw and the college. He may not always agree with how… underhanded some of his peers may be, but he wished not to rock the boat. But he had stepped out of his comfort zone, he had confronted others when they abused their power. But even with all of that chaos, he had made a friend; you. But he knew that you hadn’t told him everything, and he wasn’t going to push you for it either. You would do that on your own terms, and he would patiently wait. Unlike his raven who kept on pushing him.

“It’s almost winter break,” they croaked in his ear. “Do you not wish to inform your parents of this wonderous news? That your match is here?”

Jack shrugged the bird off, and sighed. “I would, but I would like to know that for certain that they, my match, are prepared for… that. Mother can be… overprotective.” He may not be a young pup anymore, but his mother still doted over him. And yes, he loves her, but he doesn’t want to throw his match to the wolves when it came to his family. He didn’t want to rush into it. He wanted a slow progression where they got to know each other.

The raven relented in its actions. “Ah, I understand… have you seen the footsteps yet?”

“No.” No, he had not. There was no trace of any glowing footsteps, and he has yet to be visited by his match’s raven, which means that they were not ready. There was still something they were looking for; either in themselves or around them. He just wondered; what were they looking for?

…

Books upon books upon books, and there was absolutely nothing. No word of your world, the only thing coming close being this world’s version of Paris. Other than that, nothing. You were frustrated. Have the weeks of pouring over volumes of text been for nothing? And now winter break was nearing, and you would be left alone here… stuck as you have been for the past several months.

“Prefect, you look unwell,” Jack’s voice snapped you out of your thoughts. He had become an unlikely friend during your time here. He had helped you so many times before, and now he even brought you some lunch, as you were hunched over yet another book. “And you’ve been reading non-stop.”

You looked over to your friend, and there was concern in his warm, golden eyes. A lot of people saw Jack as aloof, but you saw him as warm, but not overbearingly so. “Just trying to understand a few things is all. You don’t need to worry about me, Jack, you’ve done more than enough as is!” He had even brought you a plate of pear compote, his favourite.

He didn’t look convinced, his ears pinned back. “You can just ask, Prefect. I may not know everything, but it’s best to not let things cloud your mind.” He sighed, scratching the back of his neck.

“What do stone birds mean?” You quickly closed your mouth, regretting that you brought it up. As far as you could tell, no one else had a stone bird. “Ignore that-”

Jack cocked his head. “Prefect, do you have one?” He didn’t need an answer, as your expression, body language, and fast heart rate was one enough. “A stone bird means that you have a soul match. Someone who is right for you. They can come in many forms… but a lot of people wish for a romantic one. The more common ones are familial or platonic matches though.” He reached down into his bag, getting out a small journal with a wolf and raven on it.

“Don’t get your hopes up, herbivore,” Leona took a seat at your table and eyed the journal. “Shouldn’t be letting some bird tell you who to bond with.”

You picked at your plate; both of what they said playing in your mind. Jack’s ears twitched, and he opened up the journal. In it were crystal meanings, common birds for the different clans of beastmen. “Bitter, aren’t we?”

Leona’s ears pinned back, and Jack shifted closer to you. He didn’t know why, and he knew that Leona wouldn’t try anything, but he felt compelled to protect you from harm, even if it never came. And the hairs on his neck stood on end, much as the hackles of an agitated canine would.

Leona raised an eyebrow at Jack and rolled his eyes. “Not bitter, herbivore,” he sighed. “Just don’t like havin’ someone else call the shots for me, let alone some pesky bird and some long-dead king from times past.”

Jack huffed and handed the book to you, ignoring his house warden. “Hopefully this helps, since the messengers can’t tell us anything of substance-”

“What’s your stone bird?” Your eyes widened, and you fumbled. Why did I do that? That’s something that only… his soul match should know? What’s the etiquette on asking about soul matches? Did I offend him? Why is Leona looking so smug right now?

Jack rubbed the back of his neck, “A raven, that’s the messenger that wolf beastmen and their soul match receive.”

Huh, that’s- Wait a minute MY ‘messenger’ is a raven- Your brain was scrambling trying to put that information together. “That makes sense, I guess,” is what came out of your mouth instead of some hot word vomit. “Since, ya know, ravens form friendships with wolves and help lead them to food- Well in this case not food, rather their soul match…” You stopped talking, feeling like you were just digging yourself into a deeper hole. Best stop while I’m ahead. STOP RAMBLING! “But, uhhh, thanks for the book Jack!” You smiled warmly, finally having at least a few answers to the seemingly never ending list of questions you had.

“It’s no problem,” Jack offered a small smile and a nod of his head. But you knew that it was genuine, you could read him like an open book.

I don’t get why people are intimidated by him. Jack’s a nice guy. Sure, he’s a bit aloof at first, but he means well. “Just let me know if there’s anything I can do for you, okay?” He had already helped you out so many times before, so you only thought it would be fair for you to help him out in return in the future; not to repay him, but because you’re his friend. Friends help out friends.

He gave you a nod and the bell rang, and you were both off to your respective classes. Both of your wooden messengers flying after you, giving each other a nod.

…

Ink. Ink was everywhere. Hands were everywhere. And eyes, so many eyes were looking down at Jack. What is this? He shook his head and the scene changed, there were still eyes looking down, but the hands were gone, and there were only a few puddles of ink? Overblot? But there was no one around. The scene shifted again, and this time he was in the magishift field. Leona’s overblot?

“It’s their nightmares, I’m afraid. Rather rare for their dreams to enter into yours.” His raven said, but was nowhere near, off in the physical world. “I cannot do anything I’m afraid.”

But why is my soul match having nightmares of overblots? Only certain people have witnessed them… But he walked forwards, the field shifting into water, the browns and tans fading into blues and purples. Azul’s overblot? But only- But he was ripped out of the dream by his alarm blaring. He shot up out of bed, in a cold sweat. “What was that,” he huffed, trying to calm his racing heart.

His raven hopped over, and handed him a towel. “Night terrors. Premonitions. Awful things. They’ve been haunted by them for months now.”

This caused Jack to frown. His soul match has been haunted by dreams, dreams that he had just witnessed for months? How in the Seven were they able to get any sleep if their dreams were filled with the fraction of what he saw? They must be exhausted… “Is there anything I can do to help?” He hadn’t really thought it over, but the urge to help his soul match, whoever they were, was strong

“Hmm, until you properly meet through the path, no. but you know them, so just keep on supporting them-” the raven stopped, realizing its blunder. Jack wasn’t supposed to know that he had already met his soul match.

He narrowed his eyes at the wood bird. “I know them,” he said, not amused. “How long have I known them for?”

The raven did its impression of a guilty smile. “Oh since about… Actually, I can't say that, as that would be a dead giveaway and can’t have that happen, no no, can’t have that happen at all.”

Jack just stared at his messenger, and he bounced his knee, thinking. If my raven won’t tell me anything maybe their’s will… But that would have to wait until later, right now he was behind in his morning routine. “Fine, I’ll leave you alone then.” If you won’t tell me, maybe their raven will.

…

Night after night has only been nightmare upon nightmare. Waking up, sweating, gasping, and feeling like there were eyes everywhere. But they were just dreams. Dreams aren’t real. Dreams shouldn’t scare you. But they did. And tonight was no different.

The sun wasn’t up yet, but you couldn’t fall back asleep. You didn’t get up either, staying in a fetal position, trying to rid the feeling of sticky ink and the sensation that you were being watched. “It was just a dream,” you whispered, “it was just a dream.”

“Dreams have meaning,” the throaty voice of someone said. Out of the darkness walked forward a raven, much like your own. “It is good to heed them.”

Dreams have meaning. “Who is the wolf then,” you ease out of the fetal position and sit up, staring at the raven. Your soul match’s raven.

Amongst the nightmares, the being that saves you is a large white wolf, standing between the darkness, the hands, and the eyes, protecting you. A white knight in furry armour if you will.

The raven clamoured into your lap, getting comfortable. “Thought it would have been obvious. The wolf is your soul match, dearie. Afterall, ravens are the messengers and companions of wolves.”

You knew that much already, and looked down at the wood raven. “That’s not what I meant, and you know that.” Why can’t they give me a straight answer? It’s not that difficult of a thing. “Who are they?”

The raven sighed and propped itself back up. “I cannot tell you that… but I may give you this; you know him. And he is closer than you think.” They perched themself on the window sill, the full moon backlighting their silhouette. “And he knows you. Why do you think he’s in your dreams? It’s a very special link, do treat it with care.” They took off into the night, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

You looked up to the sky, searching for answers. “Should I follow?” A brisk wind entered through the cracks of Ramshackle Dorm, ruffling the sheets and loose papers. It was cold, but in a comforting way. You closed your eyes and breathed in, and when you opened them again you saw glowing footsteps the colour of the harvest moon.

You are ready. The breeze seemed to say. The time for waiting and second-guessing was over. Now was the time for action.

…

Jack was doing his morning workout session early since he couldn’t fall back asleep after that nightmare, and running tended to get his mind off of things. He was running laps when he noticed something glowing on the ground. Footsteps. “Did you have something to do with this?” He looked up to where his raven was flying overhead.

The raven swooped down, coming to glide by Jack’s head. “No, just some reassurance is all.”

“What did you tell them,” he huffed, speeding up his pace. The footsteps followed him, but they led outside of the field, to the tree that always grew flowers. That’s where they ended. That’s where I’ll meet them?

The raven soared overhead, looking between Jack and the tree, where someone was sitting patiently, picking at the hems of their sleeping clothes; you. “That they know you. And that they are a lot closer than you think.” The raven stopped in front of Jack, making the wolf-beastman stop right in his tracks. “Go to them. They are ready, Jack. And so are you. Can you feel it? It’s in the air.”

There was a slight breeze that carried the smell of winter, but there was something else. Anticipation. And if Jack focused just right, he could hear the anxious heartbeat of his soul match, waiting for him. He looked towards the tree, where his raven was looking, and saw your outline, the weakest hints of the waking sun rising behind you and lighting your features in soft pinks, purples, and orange.

The footsteps led to you. And Jack could feel his tail wagging furiously. Wagging so hard that it was hitting his legs.

Go to them.

He wanted to run forward, but he controlled himself to a calm walk, not wanting to surprise you. All while trying to control his tail which would be a dead giveaway that he was beyond happy that it was you; his soul match had been you all along.

You sat under the tree, as the footsteps lead you there. And so you sat, watching the dark navy of the sky change colours as the sun rose. You heard footsteps approaching you, but you didn’t look up or get up. You knew. You knew they were your soul match.

Closing your eyes you turned to them, and took in a deep breath. “I don’t know exactly what soul matches are, but I do know that I want to put in the effort to befriend you. Not because some raven told me too. But I do hope we can be friends at the least.” You stopped, waiting for his response.

Jack tilted his head, and huffed out a breath of air in amusement. “I don’t think that will be a challenge.”

Your eyes shot open, and Jack was sitting beside you, the light of the rising sun reflecting in his gold eyes. Your raven was on his shoulder, preening his hair, and his raven was on your’s, fixing your outfit. The two birds stopped their actions, realizing that both of you had finally noticed the other. They took off, and performed their dance before falling back onto your shoulders.

“So,” you started, picking at the hem of your shirt, a nervous habit. “What now? Does this change anything between us? Do you want anything to change?”

Jack looked at you softly. “I’m okay with whatever you’re comfortable with… Do you want anything to change?”

I feel safe with you. You gave him a soft smile, “Not really… but I’m okay if it changes as we do. As long as it’s together.”

Fin!

Author's Note; Jack's story is the one with the least amount of hurt/comfort, so he deviates a bit. Happy with how this turned out though! And I hope I did Jack some justice in this! This story also concludes Savanaclaw's part in the Soul Match AU.

TWST Masterlist (if you want to read more)

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threadsun · 2 months

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Anonymous Asks: "Hi!!! I wanted to send an ask for TDV because I literally love your blog and just noticed you started posting stuff for S.DV!!

I was wondering if we could get a Sebastian, Shane, or Elliot (or whoever you want) scenario/HC for them eating something absolutely LACED with aphrodisiacs. Like they ate a berry they passed by while walking or saw some food on the farmer’s table when they were visiting not knowing what it was.

And then after like 5 minutes of eating they’re red, sweaty, and in a new realm of horny (if you’d be willing I feel like some dubcon or whatever of them pouncing on the farmer would be really hot too 🫣🫣).

This is sorta based on another blog I saw that posts these kinds of ideas but I’d love to see how you write this !! 🫶"

I absolutely adore this idea!! I love aphrodisiacs >:3c This ended up being noncon rather than dubcon, and it got more emotional than horny especially at the end, but it felt like it fit better for the story

Content: noncon, aphrodisiac, drugging, accusations of bullying/cheating, Shane is depressed and self-loathing as usual, painful sex, vague implication of Harvey being a creep, hurt/comfort

Shane -

Thanks for bringing the chickens, they're doing really well in the new coop! Maybe you could come by for dinner and see them tonight? I should be home by 5.

"Home by five." Shane sighs, eyeing the clock as the hands slowly tick over to six pm. "Bullshit."

Patience is something his therapist has been trying to help him with, but... really, anyone would feel pretty blown off at this point. It's hard not to feel undervalued. Ignored. Worthless. Hard not to spiral into those self-loathing thought patterns. Into that misanthropic feeling that dealing with people just isn't fucking worth it.

He's trying to be good, he really is! He runs through the list of coping mechanisms and techniques his therapist has taught him to ground in the current moment rather than getting swept away by his thought spirals. He settles on mindful eating, glancing around to see what you've got. He can't go to the fridge. Not because he cares about being rude, just because the last time he'd opened it he'd been absolutely disgusted by how many jars of pickles you'd had in there. He knew you mostly kept them around for Harvey and to sell to Pierre, but that didn't stop his stomach from turning every time he thought about all those jars of pickled vegetables.

There's chocolates on your table. He hasn't been able to keep his eyes off them since he first sat down in your kitchen, waiting for you to get home. The box is light pink and shaped like a heart, topped with a neat little ribbon. The horrible little voice in the back of his head whispers cruel things to him. Someone else is sending you chocolates. Someone else wants your attention, your affection. And why shouldn't they get it? Why shouldn't you be with someone else? He's got nothing to offer you. He's just a depressed alcoholic, you should be with someone more... more. Someone better. It's probably good that someone's sending you chocolates. Giving you a better option than him.

It's not quite a devil on his shoulder that makes him do it. It's just his own lack of impulse control. That self loathing spiral manifesting as destructive tendencies, or whatever bullshit his therapist would call it. He doesn't want you dating him, he doesn't want you debasing yourself like that. But he doesn't want you dating anyone else either. And given that the chocolates are still closed, and a note is neatly folded up on top of it, you haven't even seen it yet...

The chocolates are gone before he realises what he's doing. So much for "mindful eating." It was more jamming chocolate into his mouth angrily and then tossing the empty box vaguely in the direction of the trash. A small part of him is worried you'll be upset, but a much bigger part of him bitterly wonders how you'd even know. You're clearly not going to show up any time soon, he'll be back in bed before you even get home. You won't know it was him who trashed the box of chocolates. He's not even sure why he's still here, waiting, when you're obviously not coming back.

Seriously, why is he still here? Your house isn't even that nice. It's too bright and busy and hot. It's so fucking hot in here. Far more stifling than the cool fall night should be. He can feel the heat sinking into his skin. The sweat making his hands sticky and his shirt damp. Your stupid house is too damned hot. Why did you invite him here anyway? Just to humiliate him? To stand him up? He doesn't want to leave. He wants to stay until you get back. Demand answers. Find out who else you're messing around like this. Is it just him? Is he really so pathetic? Or are you doing this to the other guys in town too? Is he not even special enough to be your only target?

Maybe you're with one of them now. He can already picture it. Maybe you're drinking some wine with Elliott on the beach, laughing together about what a fool he is, waiting for you at home. He can picture it. Elliott's lips on your neck as you laugh about how pathetic he is. Elliott pressing you into the sand, the two of you stripping each other frantically, Elliott pounding into you as the two of you laugh at the mere idea that you would be into him. Or maybe you're in Sebastian's room, getting smoked out, his tongue down your throat, you riding him. Maybe Harvey's pinning you to one of the exam tables in the clinic while you scream his name. Or are you giggling under the covers in Sam's room, trying not to let his family hear what you two are up to? Maybe you and Alex—

His thoughts have strayed from the idea of you mocking him to the idea of you getting fucked by everyone but him. It's startling and uncomfortable when he realises he's hard. His cock is aching, straining against his pants. The thought of you with other men... it shouldn't be this fucking hot. His blood feels like it's boiling in his veins, jealousy and anger and self-loathing and lust all bubbling away beneath his skin. And it's all your fault. Every part of this is your fault. Your stupid note. Your stupid lateness. Your stupid box of chocolates from your stupid admirer. Your stupid smile and stupid laugh that make his heart pound.

The door opens just as his emotions reach their peak. The sight of you standing there with an apologetic smile, one hand held behind your back, does nothing to soothe him. No, it only makes everything worse. He scans you for signs that you've been with someone else, something to betray the fact that you've just been fucked sensless by another guy while he was waiting around for you like an idiot. A lingering trace of a smirk, a hickey barely poking out from under your collar, something, anything.

There's nothing.

"Sorry I'm late." Your smile wavers a bit and his thoughts begin to spiral even more. "Pierre was being a hardass about closing hours, it took a lot of persuading and... maybe a little blackmail... to get him to sell me, uh... this."

Your hand shoots out in front of you, clutching a bouquet. The frantic motion sends a couple of petals to the floor. But the heat under Shane's collar doesn't let up at your explanation. Of course you don't mean it. How could you possibly mean it? Someone else must've given you the bouquet today. You're mocking him with it. Like a preteen, pretending to ask someone out as a joke. He's the joke here. You're making fun of him, pretending to be interested. Why would you be interested in him?

And you're standing there, smiling that smile that makes his heart flip. Looking as perfect as always. Those fantasies of you getting fucked are still playing on loop in his mind as he looks at you. The way you'd look, sweaty and blissful, moaning and screaming and cumming. His fists clench and he's not sure if he wants to hit you or fuck you, but he needs to do something before all this heat finally bubbles over and destroys everything in its path.

He only gets flashes of his own actions. He blinks and his hand is wrapped bruisingly around your wrist. He blinks and he's pulling you towards your room as the bouquet falls to the floor. He blinks and your voice, hitched and teary, begs to know what's going on. He blinks and he's pushing you onto the bed with a painful sounding thud. He blinks and he's on top of you, teeth digging into your lips and hands tearing desperately at your clothes.

His heartbeat pounds in his ears, the heat soothed and stoked by the feeling of your skin on his. His lips settle into a hot, sloppy kiss. It's frantic and desperate and full of tongue and teeth. Even as you try to push against him, crying out for him to stop, he swallows each sound with a groan of desperate need. The bulge that grinds against you as he strips you both bare is hard and throbbing, hot and thick. The thought of him forcing it into you—you doubt he'll bother to prep you in this state—makes you whimper and clench your thighs.

"No."

It's barely a growl, his shockingly strong hands shoving your legs apart. One hand holds your hips down. The other fumbles to shove a few clumsy fingers into your hole. Even in his dizzying haze of rage and desire, he's trying to prep you. He's like a virgin. He doesn't seem to know how to touch you, how to kiss you, how to make you feel good. But he's trying, and you hate it. Because it makes you think about how much nicer this night could have gone had you just come home on time. Between his hissed accusations, you can pick up on what happened. At least some of it.

"—course you wouldn't like me—"

"—some other guy—"

"—making fun of me—"

"—pretending you're interested—"

His self-loathing, his suspicion, his fear that all your kindness and affection is an elaborate joke. It all comes out in a flood of grunts and growls. It almost feels like your fault when he lays it all out for you like this. Like none of this would've happened if you'd been better. Had you just gotten to Pierre's on time. Gotten home when you'd promised, given him the bouquet, had time to explain yourself...

His lips are on your neck, sucking bruises into your skin on just the wrong side of painful. His cock lines up with your hole and he forces it into you, your name leaving his lips in a pained whisper. You cry out. Tears sting your eyes as he bullies his cock into you. You beg him to stop in a broken voice that hardly sounds like your own. This all feels like a bad dream. Not only for you, pinned beneath the man you were planning to confess your feelings for, feeling his cock stretch you brutally. But also for him, unable to control his actions and thoughts, body shaking as the heat overtakes him.

"—stupid fucking chocolates—"

"—so fucking hot in here—"

"—need you need you need you—"

"—hurts. Like I'm fucking dying—"

Through the tears and the pain, your mind whirrs. Something about this sounds familiar. If only his blunt nails would stop digging into your hips, his cock stop pounding into you, his teeth stop marking up your skin for long enough for you to focus. Chocolates. Heat. Need. Pain. Chocolates. Heat. Need. Pain. It connects. Somehow, you know it all adds up. This isn't the man you know, the man you spent an hour arguing with Pierre to get a bouquet for. This isn't Shane. It's—

"Fuck." Your voice cracks, back arching as his clumsy fingers try to make you feel good too. "Shane, please!"

"Need you so bad. Always teasing me. Mocking me. Behind my back, with those other guys. Why is your house so fucking hot? Why are you so fucking hot? Teasing me. Taunting me. Wanted me to fuck you, huh? Bet you wanted this."

One look in his eyes confirms it to you. He's not here. They're clouded over with lust, face contorted into a grimacing mask. A devil wearing Shane's skin like a twisted puppet. His fingers manage to fumble their way towards something akin to pleasure, your nerves sparking in unwanted delight. You can tell he's close to his end, hips stuttering and growls becoming more and more incomprehensible. It's all you can do to hold onto him. Screw your eyes shut and wait for it to end. Wait for him to be done using you.

His voice and fever break at once. Cumming inside you, face buried in your neck, sobs wracking his body. Your nails find his scalp almost instinctively, remembering all the nights you've held him like this while he was too drunk and depressed to be trusted on his own. Your fingers in his thinning hair sends a shudder of self-loathing through him. The clarity is all too much at once. He knows what he's done to you. Not why, but what. And that's more than enough to wish you'd kill him. End his miserable life then and there for what he's done. But you're doing something far worse than that. Comforting him. Whispering gentle reassurances as you hold him close. A knife to the gut would hurt less.

"What have I done...?" Even to his own ears, his voice sounds small and fractured. Like he's a kid again.

Shane's sobs quiet to little whimpers and sniffles. You can feel his tears on your neck, his now-soft cock pressed against your thigh. He shrinks in on himself, clearly not comforted by your words. You know him. Know the train of thought he's riding. Blaming himself, finding reasons that this is his fault and not the fault of whoever spiked those chocolates. It's hard to pull him out of these spirals. Even harder when the actions were his, no matter how influenced by the plant. It may not be his fault, but it certainly feels that way when he was the one pinning you down and forcing himself on you.

"Cupido appetitus." Your voice is soft, understanding. "They're... a potent aphrodisiac. They cause a sensation of overheating, insatiable lust, and can cause paranoia and dissociation. Demetrius pointed them out to me when I first moved here, warned me all about them. Said there had been the occasional... incident where they got into people's food by accident. They grow up on the mountain, anyone could've picked the berries and put them in some chocolate. "

But he's not pulling away. He lets you cradle him to your chest. Lets you coo softly to him and try to reassure him that you're not mad. And that's a thousand steps above where he was only a few months ago. None of this is going to be easy. Not for either of you. Coming to terms with what happened, with your assault and his drugging. It won't be easy at all. But at least you still have him. In your arms. At least he still has you to hold onto.

On the kitchen floor, beside the discarded bouquet, sits the note that had once been on top of the box of chocolates.

Hope you enjoy! Come see me when you've eaten them. - Harvey

#sunshine #to do valley #tdv shane #gn!reader #18+ only #dark side of the sun

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