just some so'lek oneshots i loved and recommend. none of these are mine. all the pics i used are from pinterest.
(୨ৎ) - fluff
(༄ ) - angst
(๑) - suggestive
──────────────────── .✦
༄ So’lek x Avatar!reader by @chromemolars
⋆⭒˚.⋆٠࣪⭑
༄୨ৎ Ashamed by @neteyamslovrr
⤷ so'lek has had everything ripped from him, his clan, his family, the life he knew. he has sworn himself a life of vengeance until a certain avatar destroys everything he knew about himself.
⋆⭒˚.⋆٠࣪⭑
So'lek te Elusa Kiro'itan by @chromemolars
⋆⭒˚.⋆٠࣪⭑
୨ৎ๑ I don't want them by @tselang
⤷ the iconic “I don’t want Ninat” sequence
⋆⭒˚.⋆٠࣪⭑
୨ৎ Oeyä lornusrr muntxate by @milkandthistle
⤷ So’lek being clingy and protective of his pregnant mate-much to her chagrin
⋆⭒˚.⋆٠࣪⭑
୨ৎ GirlDad!So’lek and his yawneite by @milkandthistle
⤷ So’lek being an absolute girl dad is enough to make you want another immediately
⋆⭒˚.⋆٠࣪⭑
୨ৎ Feverish Mistake by @agelsully
⤷ injured reader
⋆⭒˚.⋆٠࣪⭑
୨ৎ Who is Valentine? by @agelsully
⤷ S. Valentine's special
⋆⭒˚.⋆٠࣪⭑
୨ৎ Fatherhood suits me by @khonsus-heart
⤷ So’lek is many things: warrior, protector, grump. You are wonder and laughter and soft chaos. Between river water, stolen smiles, and a sleeping child, the two of you learn that family is not only born. It is chosen.
⋆⭒˚.⋆٠࣪⭑
୨ৎ I will not fly before I say this by @khonsus-heart
⤷ before the battle. Before the fight. A quiet ceremony becomes a confession, and two souls are seen fully beneath Eywa’s gaze. So’lek asks for help with his war paint, and now he will fly with your mark on his skin.
⋆⭒˚.⋆٠࣪⭑
༄ Harder than war by @playdat
⤷ Solek wrong you, he got mad at you over nothing and you gave him the silence treatment — Solek know damn well that making it up to you is harder than fighting sky people
⋆⭒˚.⋆٠࣪⭑
༄ The Meal That Turned Cold by @playdat
⤷ Solek would be sooo jealous and dramatic if you missed dinner to go hang out in the hollows with okul — (you two are married and solek always wait for you, to have dinner together)
⋆⭒˚.⋆٠࣪⭑
Salt Beneath the Surface by @playdat
⤷ many women have a crush on him, he doesn't care much,he already have a mate (you) but one of the navi women try to grab his attention and to flirt with him
⋆⭒˚.⋆٠࣪⭑
When the Cold Would Not Leave You by @playdat
⤷ your avatar's body couldn't bear the change of pandora's air, and you got sick —solek take care of you
⋆⭒˚.⋆٠࣪⭑
୨ৎ ❀Atta boy❀ by @milkandthistle
⤷ platonic/familial So’lek x son, So’lek x daughter, Romantic So’lek x Sarentu Reader
Summary: Jake Sully’s daughter from earth joins the resistance.
Pt.1 Pt.3
For years, you believed your father was dead. For years you grieved him. You were so young when he left, only having his dog tags and one single picture to remember him by.
No body to burn, no funeral to let your tears out.
It was painful.
So imagine the joy you had when you found out he was alive when you got to Pandora. Your dad, he wasn’t dead, he was alive! Not only that, but he became a hero to the Na’vi here, Toruk Makto they called him.
Then imagine the joy slowly turn into anger, than to pride and go down to dread.
Anger because the RDA lied to you for years of your father. Pride, because Jake did the right thing, and didn’t turn the other way when the Na’vi were in need. Dread, because you were on the wrong side of this war. And you just dragged your daughter in it.
Harding putting those men in front of a fire squad was just the last straw for you.
“You sure about this plan of yours Bub?” Malcom asked, glancing down at you as you scanned over a map you’ve been staring at for a good hour.
“Yes. I got Cora’s things packed. Everything is ready to go… we just got to wait on our new friends.” A small slimmer of doubt creeped in your tone. You were scared, reasonable. This was not only your whole squad’s lives on the line but your daughters.
Shes your whole reason for living. Probably the only thing that kept you from going bad like the rest of the RDA.
“You sure no one will start to question were your little girl is?” Malcom adjusted his vest.
“Trust me, they won’t wonder where a kid is around this time. The Na’vi fighting against the RDA like this is not what was expected. No one is going to wonder where a kid who plays no part in this fight is at.”
Malcom glanced to a picture of you and Cora, both smiling wide in front of a school. Ah, Cora’s first day of elementary school. Malcom remembered how he had to pick Cora up that day because Ardmore had you on some punishment that kept you away from home for three days.
“Unless it’s your kid. You know Ardmore has got this weird fascination with you.”
“But Ardmore isn’t here now is she?” You sighed, your tone sounded more aggressive than intended.
“I’m sorry. I understand that you’re worried about the plan. Things can go south real fast. But we need to try… please.” You begging tone caused Malcom to let out a heavy sigh.
For years, Malcom viewed you as a leader. A strong fighter who fought with honor and courage. But none of that ever let him forget that you were still a child. His own son, who passed long ago, would be your age right now. You were a child fighting in an adult war. A stupid war might he add.
“Okay. We’ll try it.”
Cora was scared, she didn’t understand what was happening. Why was she and Malcom running through the big rainforest right now.
Why did her mom have her things packed.
Cora began to slow down, running out of breath.
“Cora! Come on we can’t slow down!” Malcom grabbed the girls arm.
“I can’t— why are we running! My mom-”
Malcom cut her off, his tone slightly panicked.
“Your mom will explain everything once we get to somewhere safe. Right now we need to run, before it gets dark!”
The two kept running through the forest, their panting and heavy footsteps were all that could be heard. Cora wanted to cry, she already was. The mask that was allowing her to breathe fogged up every few seconds from her heavy breathing and tears.
Once the two arrived at resistance HQ. The young girl stuck to the now ex-RDA soldier like a koala. Hiding behind the older man’s back. Avoiding everyone’s eyes.
“Malcom Delgado, I’m Alma Cortez. Welcome to the resistance. I’m sorry we couldn’t send in a scorpion to get you two. I hope the trip here wasn’t too harsh?” A woman’s voice is heard, but Cora didn’t waver, choosing to keep her head down.
“We made it without running into any predators.” Malcom glanced behind him, seeing Cora suck behind him.
Alma noticed the young girl hiding. She gave a small smile, tilting her head.
“And this must be Cora. Hello, you must be tired from the run here. If you want to take a rest we have a living area where you can lay down.” Alma spoke in a soft and gentle tone, seeing how shaken up Cora was.
Cora gripped Malcom’s arm.
“… where’s my mom. You said she’d explain once we got here…” Cora’s shaky voice caused a long silence between the two adults.
“Come on Bub, let’s settle you down first, Kay?” The older man gently led Cora to the living area.
Priya came up besides Alma. Priya watched Cora and Malcom walk away with sad eyes.
“Updates on Walker?” Alma spoke, her eyes not leaving the two new comers, especially Cora.
“None yet, So’lek spotted Walker and her Squad recollecting near Threaded River 35 minutes ago. He lost track of them after that.”
Alma nods, not surprised that even So’lek lost track of the squad.
“Walker is good at tracking, even better at hiding.”
“But why would she try to hid from us?”
A grimace formed on blue face she wore.
“We aren’t the only ones watching her.”
“Miss Walker, I’ve been looking forward to properly meeting you. My name is Lilian Torres.”
You stared at the woman in front of you. Her long white coat made it obvious she was a scientist. You went back to cleaning your gun.
“You must be the one in charge of my Avatar?” You questioned. Torres smiled
“Ah! As sharp as the rumors say Miss Walker.”
“The rumors also say I’m a heartless bitch who puts a bullet in who ever tests my patience.” You set your Gun down.
“Why are you here Torres, I haven’t been in my Avatar for a month. Shouldn’t be any problems with it.”
Torres cleared her throat.
“Well, that’s the problem, you need to be in your Avatar at least once a week. If you’re to fight in it, you need to get used to the body.”
You sighed. For some reason, being in that Avatar just doesn’t feel right. You don’t like it, it’s not you.
“Ardmore really wants you to get used to the body. So please?” Torres began to beg. You stare up at her, your expression unreadable, but one thing was clear.
You were not happy.
“I’ll tap in before lights out.” You let out a grunt as you lifted yourself up, walking away from the woman.
It’s been three weeks. And Cora was still refusing to talk to anyone but Malcom. When she did talk, she asked for her mom, asking when she’ll be back. Asking if she’ll see her again.
Cora is no fool. She knows the RDA is filled with bad people. She’s scared her mom won’t come back.
Cora gripped her mother’s dog tags around her neck. Curled up on a bean bag facing the metal walls.
Alex and Priya were watching the young girl from the entry hub.
“Feel bad for the kid. Can’t imagine what shes going through right now.” Alex sighed out.
Priya nods, than let’s out an excited gasp “We should do something to cheer her up! I’m sure we snatched a few bored games from abandoned facilities from the upper plains.” An exciting idea that could help Cora put her mind off on the negatives.
“That sounds like a good idea… but she won’t even talk to us. Hell she won’t even look at us.”
Priya frowns. Alex was right, but she still wanted to try.
“Let’s ask Malcom what Cora is in too, maybe we could find out anything that could help!”
As the two ran off to find Malcom, So’lek(who was listening to their whole conversation) glanced over to where the sad looking girl was. Sulking like she has been for days.
She looks so small. Humans are small, but he has only seen adult humans. Children on the other hand, are far more smaller. He wonders what in the world The Hound was thinking bringing a child to Pandora.
“Do you know how long it took to brake you and build you up to be the perfect soldier?” Ardmore’s harsh tone could be heard, slightly muffled, but the sternness in her voice was clear.
“For years I took time to craft you into a murder machine! And you fall apart the moment you see that man’s blue face? Is that how easy you’ll fall?!”
You felt your head sway, blood mixed with your saliva dripped from your gapped mouth. Your heavy eye lids took more energy than needed to stay open.
Ardmore stared at your beaten and bloody state. You really were her favorite. She cared for you in her own sick and twisted way. Like how a parent would beat you till your bruised up and say ‘I did it because I love you’ sort of way.
But this wasn’t out of love. It was the want for control, controlling someone like you. Someone so strong yet so weak gave her some sort of peace of mind.
But right now, even when she had you chained up and beaten. She did not feel in control. And it was all Jake Sully’s fault.
After all these years, Ardmore thought you would come to hate him, he left you on a dying planet and started a whole new family like you didn’t exists! Yet here you are, caught trying to help your squad defect.
“You know, maybe it’s my fault too… I let you keep that kid. She made you weak.” Even if you had Cora far before you met Ardmore, that woman had enough power over you to take Cora away from you. Maybe you wouldn’t have been so easily swayed by Jake’s near existence.
“… just kill me.” Your raspy voice finally croaked out. Ardmore snapped her head at you. Kill?
Ha! Don’t make her laugh. Why would she just kill one of her greatest creations. You’re the Gray Hound for gods sakes! A name that sent fear in so many hearts.
Ardmore walked closer, her steps loud with purpose. “I’m not gonna kill you sweetheart. I’m going to punish you.” A twisted smile creeped up onto the older woman’s face. You could see the gears turning in your head.
“I think it’s time you properly take responsibility for your squads actions for trying to defect.”
You felt your heart drop to your stomach. She won’t kill you, of course she won’t. Death is your only escape. And Ardmore will never let you escape.
“Is this yours?” So’lek held a sketch book with Cora’s initials on the top left corner.
Cora’s tired eyes slowly shift up to the large blue man. She didn’t speak, only stared before reaching out for the book. So’lek lets his hand lower for her reach.
“You made these drawings yourself?”
Cora only nods in response as she flips through the pages of the sketch book, stopping at a certain page before holding it up to the man.
“Mom.”
A detailed sketch of the girls mother was on the page she showed. So’leks brow raised, slowly lowering himself down to see the picture more clearly.
She looked younger from the picture of Gray Hound from the holo table in the HQ. Drawings must be from the young girls point of view. That’s what So’lek thought.
“Yes. Your mother.” So’lek was clearly not understanding why she was showing this to him.
“I heard you’re really good at finding people… can you find my mom?” Her question was more like a plea. So’lek paused, thinking on his response.
“Your drawings are good. You should go out into drayers bowl and draw the water falls and rocks. I’m sure she would like to see your new drawings when she comes to HQ.”
Cora’s brows furrowed. She understood what So’lek was trying to do. She thought on it, maybe it would be something nice for her mom to come back to. She always smiled at your drawings.
Cora stood up and grabbed a mask and oxygen tank and ran off to Malcom.
“Daddy! Daddy!” Tuk ran to her father crying.
“Oh baby girl, whats wrong?” Jake lifted Tuk up in his arms, having her on his lap.
“Why are you crying baby girl?” He began to wipe her flowing tears with his thumb.
“I didn’t mean to do it daddy! I’m so sorry.” Tuk sobbed as she lifted up what she was holding in her arms. A dead stingbat.
“I killed it! I swung to a branch and fell than killed it with my butt!” Tuk began to sob, holding the stingbat close to her chest with gentle care.
It took all of Jake’s will power not to laugh. He just let out a fond smile and gently took the stingbat from Tuk.
“It’s not your fault baby, okay? You didn’t know.”
Tuk slowly calmed down. She smiled at her father before giving him a hug.
“Love you daddy.”
Jake immediately hugged his little girl back, memories of (Name) came flooding in.
“Love you too baby girl.”
Familiar sounds of beeping from a monitor was all you heard. First it was bright lights shining down on you, practically blinding you. Then a blurry face came into view, looking down at you from an angle that you could only assume you were laying down.
The beeping from the monitor became clearer, as did your vision. The face that stared over you began to look too much like Ardmore. Oh, wait. It is her.
“Rise and shine sweetheart.” Her mocking tone echoed in your head. You winced, feeling an intense pain in your head. Nothing like the usual migraines you usually have.
Things were still a little woozy for you, but you were able to sit up. But…. Something felt off. Why was this room so small?
Your eyes shifted down to your feet. Blue.
Your brows furrowed, your head turned to Ardmore.
“Get me out of this body.” The expression of the avatar turned dark. The large blue hand gripped the equally large shirt on it.
Ardmore stood there with a twisted smile.
“No can do hun.”
The avatar stood up, tried to storm over to Ardmore. But Ardmore held up a small remote, and pressed a button.
“AUGH!” The pain was sudden, so intense it caused the avatar to fall to her knees. A metal color was wrapped around her neck.
It felt like an eternity till she shut off the shock color.
“…What have you done to me… where is my body!”
Ardmore slowly steps closer. Her steps echoed in the white room.
“Your human body? Oh. Oh do I put this lightly?” She stopped in front of the avatar who was on the ground dubled down. “That body is gone. Finished. Cold as ice by now.”
The avatar’s long tail curled. Its ears slowly slick back as its eyes widen. Seeing as she’s not wanting to come to terms with what was just implied, Ardmore decided to slam it down.
“(Name) Walker, is dead. Your human body. Is dead.”
The Avatar froze. Staring down at the gray marble floor in utter horror.
“You went crazy, and then got yourself killed trying to escape… you cost me a lot of money sweetheart. I’m not letting you go to waste.” Ardmore would go as far as sticking you into your avatar.
“Hey, but don’t worry. You’re still Gray Hound. You’ll always be Gray Hound.”
Her words translated to you.
‘No matter what body you’re in. You will always be my property.’
all my garrett graham fics, one shots, blurbs & extras gathered in one place.
one shots –
❄︎ one drink limit
garrett tries to keep his drunk girlfriend hydrated, upright, and away from kitchen counters.
↳ garrett graham x reader
❄︎ good practice
a post-game hookup turns into painkillers, antiseptic wipes, and feelings neither of them planned for.
↳ garrett graham x nursing student!reader
❄︎ secret mission
a secret hookup with garrett graham turns into four close calls, one locker room scandal, and feelings neither of them are hiding very well.
↳ garrett graham x reader
❄︎ line?! | part 02
drunk shakespeare turns into old feelings, bad decisions, and garrett graham onstage where he absolutely does not belong.
↳ garrett graham x petal!reader
❄︎ mountain lion
garrett graham doesn’t do girlfriends. the hockey house disagrees.
↳ garrett graham x kitty!reader
❄︎ no funny business
after a brutal day on placement, garrett offers a movie, pizza, and a place to cry without making it weird.
↳ garrett graham x nursing student!reader
❄︎ full immersion
a random class assignment sends garrett to celibacy club.
↳ garrett graham x reader
❄︎ slow laps
rehab is ugly, slow, and humiliating. garrett graham, annoyingly, makes it feel a little less lonely.
↳ garrett graham x figure skater!reader
❄︎ chain reaction
four times garrett’s chain causes problems, and one very smug hockey captain pretends he isn’t loving every second of it.
↳ garrett graham x reader
blurbs –
❄︎ study buddy
garrett offers his arm for science and accidentally catches feelings in the library.
↳ garrett graham x nursing student!reader
❄︎ clinical observation
garrett discovers he has a thing for scrubs. unfortunately, tucker notices.
↳ garrett graham x nursing student!reader
❄︎ off the clock
garrett doesn’t do girlfriends. though, apparently, he does do hospital pickups.
↳ garrett graham x nursing student!reader
❄︎ concussion protocol
logan ends up in the ED after a hit at hockey training, and garrett gets a front-row seat to nursing student mode.
↳ garrett graham x nursing student!reader
❄︎ study break
clinical exam spiral, meet garrett graham’s preferred method of stress relief.
↳ garrett graham x nursing student!reader
❄︎ careful, kitty
garrett says they're not dating. kitty decides to make the consequences of that very, very clear.
↳ garrett graham x kitty!reader
❄︎ hydration police
garrett's girlfriend is drunk, freezing, and extremely loyal.
↳ garrett graham x reader
❄︎ patient zero
a sick day turns into garrett's worst nightmare.
↳ garrett graham x nursing student!reader
𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫
nursing student!reader –
study buddy | good practice | clinical observation | off the clock | no funny business | concussion protocol | study break | patient zero |
kitty!reader –
mountain lion | careful, kitty |
petal!reader –
line?! | line?! part 02 |
figure skater!reader –
slow laps |
taglist –
follow this link to join the taglist. please note only comments will be added!
★ stand alone stories that focus on one specific character (unless stated otherwise)
☆ headcanons + short scenarios related to the topic, includes multiple characters at once
requests: closed (they are going to be re-opened once i finish at least half of the ones currently in my inbox)
yeon sieun
★ accidental
yandere! sieun you met sieun by accident. the accidents kept happening, until you realized they were never accidents at all. (requested, dark romance)
★ kisses gone wrong
you kiss sieun all over his face before school, unaware your new lipstick won’t come off by any means and yet sieun stays weirdly calm about walking around with your lipstick stamped all over him. (requested, fluff)
ahn suho
★ promises
yandere! suho your brother’s best friend, suho, barges into your shared apartment one day and the moment he sees you he realizes that he needs you to be his. (requested, dark romance)
★ i’m so conflicted with you two, that i have no idea what to do pt.1 (love triangle feat. beomseok)
★ i’m so conflicted with you two, that i have no idea what to do, suho ending
beomseok starts crushing on a girl suho has loved for ages, and she, intrigued by both of them, can’t resist teasing the boys. (fluff)
oh beomseok
★ control
yandere! beomseok when beomseok meets you, you’re dating suho. tired of living in someone’s shadow, he decides that if there’s one thing he wants control over, it’s you. (requested, dark romance, semi-smut)
★ bittersweet
your boyfriend beomseok grows jealous of how you interact with his friend suho, and his insecurities make him lash out at you. (angst/comfort)
★ hazy nights
after the karaoke fight, beomseok falls into parties and alcohol with the school bullies. one night at a club, he meets you. (canon adjacent, angst/comfort)
★ smoke and honey
your boyfriend beomseok drifts into the wrong crowd after falling out with his friends, which stirs problems in your relationship, however you’re determined to help him, whether he wants you to or not. (canon adjacent, angst/comfort)
★ i’m so conflicted with you two, that i have no idea what to do pt.1 (love triangle feat. suho)
★ i’m so conflicted with you two, that i have no idea what to do, beomseok ending
beomseok starts crushing on a girl suho has loved for ages, and she, intrigued by both of them, can’t resist teasing the boys. (fluff)
park humin (baku)
★ virtual angel
one random day, baku stumbles across your profile at an internet café. he starts chatting with you and after days of endless conversations, he finds himself falling for you. (requested, fluff)
★ never the one
you spend years loving gotak, never realizing that baku was quietly loving you just as much, until heartbreak makes you finally see who’s been truly choosing you all along. (angst/comfort)
★ hot and bothered
when you and your equally inexperienced, sweet boyfriend baku, end up alone in his room, the quiet tension of wanting each other only grows, until neither of you can hold back anymore and you finally act on it. (requested, smut)
★ notice me, manager
when the eunjang high’s basketball team finally get a manager, baku spirals head-first into love, determined to impress you no matter what. (requested, fluff)
go hyuntak (gotak)
★ manager
the eunjang high basketball team gets a cute new manager and everyone lose their minds about it. hyuntak tries to stay focused and indifferent, but fails spectacularly. (requested, fluff)
★ just a drink
hyuntak is forced to take care of you after you get drunk at a bar all by yourself, spiraling from failing an exam you studied weeks for. (fluff)
★ charming haircut
your boyfriend hyuntak gets a new haircut that earns him way more attention than you’re comfortable with, while he just finds your jealousy endearing. (fluff)
★ forced to be bold
after baku nudges hyuntak about his intimate life with you one too many times, it gets hyuntak thinking. one night, tired of being inexperienced, he finally decides to make a move on you. (requested, smut)
★ even bolder
after you and hyuntak tried dry humping together, his poor virgin self starts to yearn for more, eventually leading to an awkward yet sweet and passionate first time. (requested! continuation of forced to be bold, smut)
seo juntae
★ coming soon . .
geum seongje
★ popular
seongje needs help fixing up his image and becoming more popular, so he reaches out to the most popular and well-liked girl at school. (reader with glinda like personality, fluff)
★ real man
you sing about your hurt feelings on stage, unaware that your ex, seongje, is in the crowd, hanging on every word. a confrontation outside the bar sparks something you thought was long dead. (angst/comfort?)
★ refuse me
an apathetic, compliant girl catches seongje’s attention, and over time their complex dynamic slowly blossoms into love, though neither is ready to admit it at first. (fluff)
★ villain and violent
you always knew that your boyfriend was violent, but after witnessing what he did to go hyuntak, the dynamics in your relationship shift drastically. (angst/comfort?)
★ never meant to make you bleed
you had always struggled with mental health, and one late-night fight with seongje almost leads to a tragedy, leaving him completely broken. (angst/comfort)
na baekjin
★ money talks
baekjin insists on paying for your nails, already imagining what they’ll feel like against his skin. (smut)
★ 그 손을 내밀어줘, save me
when you transfer to yeo-il high to escape your abusive ex, he finds you anyway. desperate, you turn to baekjin and end up in a fake relationship with him, that unexpectedly becomes real. (fluff, fake dating to lovers)
kang wooyoung
★ coming soon . .
jeon seokdae
★ coming soon . .
HEADCANONS + SEPARATED SCENARIOS ☆.ᐟ
☆ texts
featuring: yeon sieun, ahn suho, oh beomseok, park humin, go hyuntak, geum seongje, na baekjin
☆ pinkette
weak hero boys x fem! reader who has her hair dyed pink
featuring: yeon sieun, ahn suho, oh beomseok, park humin, go hyuntak, seo juntae, geum seongje, na baekjin
☆ skincare
weak hero boys x fem! reader who decides to do their skincare
featuring: yeon sieun, ahn suho, oh beomseok, park humin, go hyuntak, seo juntae, geum seongje, na baekjin
☆ manicure
weak hero boys x fem! reader who gets her nails done
featuring: yeon sieun, ahn suho, oh beomseok, park humin, go hyuntak, seo juntae, geum seongje, na baekjin
☆ a little tease
weak hero boys x fem! reader who surprises them by wearing a sexy lingerie
featuring: yeon sieun, ahn suho, oh beomseok, park humin, go hyuntak, seo juntae, geum seongje, na baekjin
☆ merry x-mas
what would it look like to spend the christmas season with weak hero boys? (requested)
featuring: yeon sieun, ahn suho, oh beomseok, park humin, go hyuntak, geum seongje, na baekjin, kang wooyoung
☆ love language
how the weak hero boys show their love / what makes them feel loved (gn! reader)
featuring: yeon sieun, ahn suho, oh beomseok, park humin, go hyuntak, seo juntae, geum seongje, na baekjin, kang wooyoung
☆ let the world burn
how the weak hero boys would protect you, and the lengths they would go to for your safety and happiness. (requested)
featuring: yeon sieun, ahn suho, oh beomseok, park humin, go hyuntak, geum seongje
do u have any fics or headcanons for ahn suho? i just keep rereading the same stuff over and over again😭
Ahn Suho Ultra Masterlist
SFW / FLUFF
001. spending a day with Ahn Suho @whcfreak
002. jealous @whcfreak
003. the type to… @10baku
004. helping him with his homework @suhoholic
005. more than u know @suhoholic
006. getting caught helping him (can’t find it)
007. I think he loves u more than me now @rose24207 m.list
008. if u say u love me, say it first @rinswirls
009. ?
010. under his skin @lecatty
011. close enough @rurusdiaryy
012. Only he knew by @speedywizardland (no masterlist, no tags but a million fics)
013. bf hcs @sushiyenie
014.Suho as your bf @rurusdiaryy
ANGST / FLUFF
001.crystal shields @weakheronicki
002. I forgot to remember the title (silent storm) @lilswooddd
NSFW / SMUT
001. teach me @eoriu
002. first time together @k1mbe3rly
003. this one has no title @yversz
004. jealous baby @slaybinnie
005. tonight I’m gonna give u all my love @ylvra
006. actually a whole buffet this m.list @juliettejwnewinesa
007. distraction @parkjihoonswifey
008. seven minutes in heaven @weakheronicki
019.there was one where reader put bandages on him (can’t find it)
020. handjob because his hand hurts
mine: check out the masterlist cause I can’t add any more links
001.friends help each other out (ft. Sieun) 002. pt. 2 003. birthday boi (ft. Sieun) 004. NSFW alphabet 005. tired after work 006. boyfriend headcanons 007. movie scenes (ft. Kang Wooyoung) 008. boyfriend headcanons (ft. Sieun) 009.fun fair 010.helping him out
021. let me tell you @yversz
022.arguments can be solved w/ a quicky
FICS (x reader)
001. every breath you take @carixie
in which a school ghost noticed suho was avoiding her. could it be that he could see her?
AO3
FICS Ahn Suho x Yeon Sieun
001. your need grows teeth (fic. to be updated/ unfinishesd. fluff. chap. 7 yet. 31.5k. my absolute fave rn)
[Sieun and Suho have hated each other since the first day they met on the college campus. But everything begins to change when a fire at the dorm forces them to share the same room.]
ONE SHOTS Ahn Suho x Yeon Sieun
001. guess that’s ur purpose (one shot. smut. military au. non-canon. 9.8k)
https://archiveofourown.org/works/82041246
[Or, a military au where Sergeant Ahn Suho goes out of his way to protect Private Yeon Sieun]
002. untouched (one shot. smut. 5.7k)
https://archiveofourown.org/works/71040751
[Sieun has never touched himself. Suho can’t help going a little crazy over it.]
003. poison in my mind (one shot. smut. 3.3k)
https://archiveofourown.org/works/77027296
[In which Sieun accidentally takes an aphrodisiac and convinces the one person plaguing his thoughts to help him out.]
004. I was weak that’s why I needed u (one shot. plot. non-canon. college au. smut. 6.5k)
https://archiveofourown.org/works/74213396
[Or, Sieun takes a liking to a scare actor dressed as Pyramid Head, unaware that the person beneath the mask is exactly who he's dreaming of.]
005. I’ll set u free from ur sanity (one shot. plot. non-canon. college-au. smut. 13.5k)
[In which Sieun’s boyfriend opens their relationship up. And then Sieun meets Suho]
-> Tumblr writers are mild compared to the ones on ao3
Jack Abbott x ER paediatrician who is sunshine personified - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7
Heartbeats and Bombshells
Guilty
Claimed
You’re My Best-Kept Secret
I Shouldn't Be Here
Surprises
Three-Point Diagnosis (aka: Samira, her girlfriend, and the Human Brick Wall of Emotional Repression) - Part 2 - Part 3
In Sync
“it should not take seeing me with another man to realize you want me.”
“Do you ever wonder what it’d be like if we were actually together?”
"The human body wasn't made to survive this much stress. Just because you haven't exploded doesn't mean you're not about to. Let me help."
“You’re supposed to be my safe place, not the reason my chest feels like it’s going to explode.”
Everyone else assumes they’re together already… and they can’t quite correct them.
They’re in a crowded room, but their pinkies are hooked together the entire time.
"Something is happening"
Jack Abbott doesn’t mean for it to turn into this
dr jack abbot doesn't think anything of the way fem!reader does her utmost to avoid him when its not work related
Jack abbot reacts to you crying (out of love) during sex
“Are you flirting with me?” “You finally noticed?”
“Why do we keep pretending we don’t want to kiss each other?”
Dr jack abbot has a thing for the pretty girl who works in the coffee shop across from the pitt
Work crush
sign language
Jack Abbott doesn’t think
Jack abbot (late 40s) is dating reader (24-26) and he has some thoughts about it and what other people think about it. He breaks it off with her. But in the end, he's too in love to let her go.
Dr. Jack Abbot is still just a man
Making out with Jack Abbot
Jack Abbot is Gomez Addams in terms of devotion and adoration for his partner
Welcome to the Pitt masterlist (series - Jack not the love interest)
Measured Risk (The Pitt x 911 cross over)
"What do you want?"
Jack Abbot finds out that you want to kiss him. It breaks his brain a little.
Jack Abbot worries about you.
free use
"Can I keep you?"
"What do you need?"
“I’m gonna take such good care of you.”
Untitled smut
Why Him?
I'd Wait
Three-Point Diagnosis (aka: Samira, her girlfriend, and the Human Brick Wall of Emotional Repression) - Part 2 - Part 3
Jack finds out Samira did the influencers makeup
Thinking that Jack knows on some level that he loves Samira. Samira however has absolutely no clue.
Things You Start to Notice (part of Welcome to The Pitt)
The Push (part of Welcome to The Pitt)
Jack Abbot was shot while doing his swat thing and Samira Mohan patches him up.
“You’re not getting any younger.” (part of Welcome to The Pitt)
i don’t know what to do
Untitled
“Then marry me.”
Titus Danforth who..
Sugar daddy Titus Danforth
Untitled
Reader meets Stan at university, a year after the alien debacle.
⭒ Jack Abbot ⭒ Part 02 ⭒ Part 03 ⭒ Part 04 ⭒ Part 05 ⭒ Part 06
𝐀𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐌𝐢𝐝𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 | @springtyme
After a long, brutal shift, a sudden accident leaves you reeling. Good thing dr. Abbot is there to make sure you’re okay, hovering somewhere between doctor and guardian angel.
𝐒𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐲 𝐇𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐬, part 02 | @/springtyme
When your daughter ends up in the ER, Jack helps you navigate the chaos with quiet understanding and gentle hands.
Glasses | @marismellow
just be healthy | @/marismellow
jack isn’t a fan of fevers.
i didn’t mean it. | @/marismellow
jack gets frustrated when he comes home to see your twins aren’t in bed. you had a long day at work and you aren’t in the mood to argue, but you do.
Imagine | @lifeofanogirl
His wife | @kenziexoxoxo
Dating Jack Abbot Headcanons | @the-bat-writes-imagines
night shift. | @lilyswritings
you and jack break up over hurt feelings and misunderstandings, and when samira joins the night shift, your relief turns into jealousy as you start to believe he’s moving on — unaware that all he wants is to get you back.
What he brings home | @carolina-thiell
living on (a latte and) a prayer | @weinthepitt
nothing to forgive | @/weinthepitt
the space between | @wonderlalicend
sometimes doctors need a second opinion - someone to tell them to slow down. for you, that person is jack abbot. it’s just a massive bonus that he’s also your boyfriend.
jack abbot x f!reader | @babyonboard
Honey | @speaking-to-thevoid
cared for | @sebsbarnes
maybe it was time for jack abbot to stop hiding behind independency and admit he wants to be cared for
Seems to be Her Type | @brxtnxy
They speculate. They assume. They get it wrong. Jack just watches, fed and unbothered, knowing exactly who she chose.
Ask For Help | @girlboss-things
Jack and reader are next-door neighbours, it's hot out, mechanic!reader, reader hurts her hand, and Jack's there to save the day (again), dog!dad Jack
Knowing Me, Knowing You | @traumaone
You and Jack are in an unlabled relationship of unknown seriousness, so unknown you didn't even know he had a second job.
I’m Sorry. | @ofthepitt
house tour, pt 02 | @domesticblisss
after eight months of having the 12th floor to himself, jack finally has a new neighbour. he has no idea how to react when she’s the opposite of what he expected.
new year, softly | @pittsick
you knew how exhausted Jack had been for past few days; working at the PTMC's ER during the Christmas holidays wasn't so easy. he was tired, feeling guilty over those he couldn't save and just needed a break. so when he get New Year's Eve as a day off, you decide to throw him a little surprise: fire burning in the chimney, a good dinner with everything he likes, warm blankets on the couch and obviously, all he kisses he needs.
older, better, stronger | @/pittsick
after a long and grueling night shift, you and jack, end up going out for drinks together. what starts as playful banter and mutual venting over work quickly turns into something more—jack’s subtle flirting and your unspoken attraction spilling into undeniable chemistry. the night ends with both of you finally giving in to what you’ve been holding back, leaving open the possibility of something more between you.
Stressing the f*ck out | @dreamland-library
You try to keep your distance from the rumour mill and Abbot, and you fail spectacularly…
workplace rumors | @stars-from-pluto
ATTRITION | @soulluvrrr
coming off a shift from hell, jack feels guilty for neglecting his pretty wife. don’t worry, he knows just how to apologize.
the night shift. | @betonlosingdogs
the night shift always has a bet going on. this time, santos is the unsuspecting victim.
Slow Mornings & Cuddles | @lifeofapittgirl
jack abbot who’s basically a soft dom. | @santosprincess
i’m on fire | @ivoirerose
jack overhears you talking about going on a date and he’s jealous. then he hears who you’re going on a date with, and he nearly implodes.
get it up | @/ivoirerose
you make a joke about jack’s abilities in the bedroom and he isn’t too happy about it
passing ships | @/ivoirerose
short little something about having a work crush on jack, not realising that he kind of has one on you too
TOO LATE ! | @lovebugism
when you and langdon get stuck on the roof of the trauma center together, he decides to stir up the ghost of your relationship to pass the time. but you’ve long moved on, and frank’s left haunting the wrong house.
jack abbot taking care of you after a night out with your friends… | @ebodebo
police scanner, part two | @suprbrat
Snowstorm | @writeroutoftime
during a once in a decade snowstorm, jack finds you trying to shovel out your car
Impact | @imaginesofwonder
Emergency Contact | @/imaginesofwonder
A Man in Uniform | @callienotcally
you come home to jack trying on his uniform
Missing Parts | @/callienotcally
you and jack have been dating for a few months now, but every time you try to initiate intimacy he becomes distant; and you can’t help but feel like he’s hiding something from you
Opposites Attract | @/callienotcally
a look into your relationship with a man that couldn’t be more different from you, but acts as if you were made for each other
Honesty is the best policy | @moondustfairies
The five times Jack hid you from his PTMC family, and the one time he realized he couldn’t be without you.
Chivalry Isn’t Dead | @confettighosts
Secret relationship | @secretlovezz
Thinking about being in a secret relationship with Jack Abbot and accidentally giving yourselves away because you’re too tired to try and put up a professional front after a long shift.
Trauma Bonding | @writingismycardio
In this one you’re about to face your biggest fear attending the memorial for the fallen soldiers. There’s a certain man who notices your uneasiness and he helps you get through it.
Parking Pass | @atlaslapis
Please Forgive me | @/atlaslapis
transatlanticism. Prologue. | @se7entyrell
Jack Abbot has had a terrible eighteen months. Truly one for the books. Losing his mother, and then you, sometimes he wonders what the point is. If things will ever look up. Until you turn up at the Pitt, with a little girl who looks exactly like him.
Sweet Little Lamb | @oldermenfucker
after years of being away from this place, Jack comes to spend his sabbatical with the woman he left behind, thinking all remains the same, only to find out about things he never thought was possible.
Champagne Problems | @/oldermenfucker
being your parents' only daughter comes with a package, and you only hope Jack can handle it as best as he possibly can. To your surprise, he manages to convince them just fine even though you are left to pick up the pieces. Aka Jack being your fake boyfriend for two days and things turn out to be not too fake.
𝒉𝒂𝒏𝒅𝒍𝒆 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒄𝒂𝒓𝒆 | @matchamorphosis
Tuesday | @notyourlovemonkey
On a random Tuesday, you wake up tangled together in the late-afternoon light, exhausted and half-asleep, when Jack casually suggests getting married before your shift.
Distance | @s-writing-s
Jack’s a good attending. He’s nice to you. Polite. But he doesn’t treat you like he does the others. He doesn’t send you smiles. He never laughs with you, and he never seeks out your company. It hurts enough that you’ve decided to leave and take an attending position elsewhere.
𝐃𝐫 𝐃𝐨𝐨𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 | @croigealai
After dealing with an abuse case that leads to a bite, you go to The Pitt to get it checked out. Thankfully you have a handsome doctor whos very good at distracting you
frequent flyer | @dolloebaby
you’ve worked night shift with jack for years now, so how come the one day he covers day shift for robby, you’re sitting in the waiting room with a nasty bruise on your midsection and a laceration across your cheek
Different Kind Of Treatment | @megalony
(Y/n) and Jack haven’t told anyone that she’s pregnant. But when a patient gets rough with (Y/n), a situation escalates and Jack gets worried.
Sudden Drop | @/megalony
Working in the Pitt isn’t easy, especially when (Y/n) has diabetes and there isn’t always time for lunch breaks. It’s a good thing Jack is always looking out for her and checking her sugar levels.
My Soul Knows Who It Belongs With | @multifandomlover01
Jack’s dealing with a pesky resident on night shift who apparently doesn’t understand or respect boundaries
You Don’t Gamble With Human Lives…Or With The Human Heart | multifandomlover01
Jack and his fiancée have to have a serious conversation about his “hobby” and where they stand on themselves and family matters.
Just Behave! | @shoniebalognie
You needed to practice and submit assesments for your nursing program, thinking your doctor boyfriend would be the best. You thought wrong.
Be less obvious | @slthspd
Sadly, Robby knows Jack's wardrobe way too well, and recognizes a certain shirt on you.
The girl next door | @/slthspd
Jack is dying to get to know his neighbor better, even though he knows she should be off-limits. But then she ends up at the ER one night…
Stay, part 02 | @/slthspd
When he realizes your ex is harassing you, Jack offers to let you stay at his place until it's over. He didn't consider the possibility of getting a little too used to having you around.
In the Way: | @mehchuis
You cannot read social cues to save your life. Unfortunately, Jack Abbot can, and it’s driving him insane.
Nocturnal Sunshine, Part two, part three, | @/mehchuis
Night shift has a heartbeat, and you’re part of it.
STYLISTIC HELP | @b3ttybattz
Where your teenage daughter dresses you up for date night with Jack
When Shifts Collide, Part 2. Part 3. | @voidsagent
When you started your internship at PTMC, that’s when you first laid eyes on Jack Abbot. Grey curls and all soft crinkles when he smiled. Trying so hard to keep up the tough veteran exterior. Falling for him was the easy part, sneaking around to keep it from your older brother, Robby? That’s the hard part.
Meaning: "A quiet, comforting warmth, a softness that lingers like a memory. A gentle sweetness that drifts quietly through the heart."
So'lek te Elusa Kiro'itan x Tamtey
A/n: This was greatly inspired from the fic, As we Grow, written by @atokirinasprite. and that cute cheeky tamtey that I see all the time on @solekpilled
GO CHECK Out THEIR BLOGS!
synopsis:
After a long, exhausting day, So’lek finally returns to his kelku—his sanctuary, and home to the one he loves most.
content warning:
None. Tooth-rotting, cavity-forming fluff! Established relationship between So'tey.
word count:
??? k
୨୧ ─── ♡ ─── ୨୧ ─── ♡ ─── ୨୧ ─── ♡ ─── ୨୧
So’lek had had enough of this day.
Not the kind of “I am mildly inconvenienced” enough. No—this was the deep, bone-heavy exhaustion that settled into his shoulders and refused to leave, the kind that made every sound sharper, every movement heavier, every thought shorter.
From the moment the sun had climbed, there had been something to fix.
Arrangements. Always arrangements.
The Resistance needed supplies moved, routes reconsidered, patrols adjusted. Someone had miscalculated distance, someone else had misread tracks, and So’lek had been left to stitch together the consequences like he always did—quietly, efficiently, without thanks and without pause.
And then there was Nor.
So’lek exhaled sharply through his nose at the thought, his jaw tightening as irritation flared again, fresh despite the hours that had passed. Reckless, loud, careless in a way that made his teeth grind—So’lek had spent what felt like half the day correcting him, again and again, on positioning, on awareness, on the very basic principle of not getting himself killed because he thought he could handle more than he could.
“You do not rush into a clearing without reading it,” So’lek had said, his voice flat, patience already fraying thin.
Nor had grinned.
Actually grinned.
So’lek had nearly left him there.
As if that were not enough, there had been the Sarentu to train. Eager, too eager at times, with quick hands, quicker questions, and eyes that burned with determination and something softer beneath it. They learned fast, which should have made it easier, but instead they pushed, always pushing, always asking for more, and So’lek had given it to them.
Again. And again. And again.
He had corrected stances, adjusted grips, repeated instructions until his voice had gone low and rough from use. He did not mind teaching—not truly—but today it had felt like pouring water into a vessel that would never quite fill, no matter how much he gave.
And then the hunt.
Eywa.
The animal had been stubborn. clever in a way that demanded respect and patience in equal measure. It had led him through thicker brush than necessary, doubled back twice, and nearly caught him off balance when the wind shifted against him.
By the time he had taken it down, clean but later than he preferred, the sun had already begun its descent, light thinning into evening.
Everything had taken longer than it should have. Everything had asked more of him than he had intended to give.
And now So’lek was done.
He rolled his shoulder as he walked, feeling the tension pull tight across his back, his hands flexing at his sides, claws curling slightly as if they still remembered the resistance of the bowstring. Fatigue clung to him, heavy and insistent, settling into muscle and bone alike.
All he wanted—truly wanted—was to reach his kelku, climb into his hammock, and not wake until the world decided it could function without him again. No voices, no instructions, no Nor. just quiet, just rest, just the absence of everything that had pressed against him since morning.
His pace remained steady at first, his steps sure and familiar along the forest path. Around him, the bioluminescent glow had begun to awaken, soft lights flickering at the edges of his vision as the world shifted from gold into blue, the air cooling with the slow fall of night.
And then, somewhere between one step and the next, a thought surfaced—small, simple, almost unremarkable.
But it changed everything.
His hammock.
Not just his.
Tamtey's too.
The one space that belonged to him and to her.
The image came unbidden, as it always did when his mind allowed it: her curled into the woven fabric, limbs tucked in without care, hair spilling messily across the threads, somehow managing to take up space and yet still look small. Sometimes she would be half-awake when he arrived, blinking up at him with sleep-heavy eyes; other times she would already be gone to rest, her cheek pressed into where his chest would be when he joined her.
Waiting.
Or not waiting at all—just there, as if she had always belonged in that space, as if the hammock itself had been made with her in mind.
So’lek felt something in his chest loosen. tight and coiled in a way he had not fully noticed until now, unwinding just enough to let him breathe easier. The weight in his shoulders did not disappear, but it shifted, settling into something more manageable, something he could carry.
His steps quickened, subtly at first, then just enough that he could feel the difference—the slight lengthening of his stride, the faint forward pull in his posture, as if he were being drawn toward something warmer than the promise of sleep.
The forest seemed quieter now. Softer. Or perhaps it was simply that his mind had stopped cataloguing every irritation, every misstep, every frustration of the day.
He moved past familiar roots and low-hanging branches, ducking without thought, his path carved into instinct. Ahead, the faint glow of his kelku came into view between the trees, unmistakably his.
And there, in that quiet space,
She would be.
Probably already asleep. Probably taking up more of the hammock than necessary, as she always did, leaving him just enough room to fit if he adjusted around her.
So’lek exhaled again, but this time the breath left him slower, quieter.
And for the first time that day, he found himself looking forward to something.
୨୧ ─── ♡ ─── ୨୧ ─── ♡ ─── ୨୧ ─── ♡ ─── ୨୧
Just as So’lek reached the edge of the kelku... He stopped.
Not because he was unsure, nor because anything had changed in the space before him, but because habit held him there, steady and unyielding. Instinct, carved deep into him long before Tamtey and long before even this place, rose quietly to the surface and reminded him of something simple, something ingrained.
You return. You provide.
His gaze flickered once toward the soft glow within, where he knew she would be.
Waiting. Or not waiting at all. It did not matter.
What mattered was that she would be there.
And what kind of mate would he be if he returned empty-handed?
So’lek exhaled quietly, the sound soft against the stillness of the night, and turned away from the entrance despite the pull in his chest that urged him forward. It was only for a moment, he told himself. It would not take long.
The forest welcomed him back without question, its quiet presence unchanged as he retraced his steps. The path to the cooking space was dimly lit, embers still glowing faintly from earlier preparations, casting low, flickering light across the ground. A few others lingered at a distance, their movements slow, their voices muted, but So’lek did not acknowledge them, nor did they disturb him.
He moved with purpose now—tired, yes, but steady, each action deliberate, efficient.
A portion of yerik meat had already been set aside from earlier. He checked it with a practiced eye, ensuring it was properly cooked through, still warm enough to be comforting rather than simply sustaining. Satisfied, he wrapped it carefully, his hands moving with quiet precision.
Then the fruit.
Yolvo.
His hand paused briefly over the selection before choosing one—ripe, unblemished, sweet. He knew her preference by now without needing to think about it, the knowledge settled somewhere instinctive, unquestioned.
Of course he did.
A faint, almost imperceptible shift touched his expression as he held it, something softer threading through the lingering fatigue.
Sweet.
His syulang liked sweet things.
The word settled quietly in his chest—syulang—familiar in a way that still surprised him at times. It had come naturally, somewhere along the way. Not planned, not spoken with intent to change anything, but simply… there. In the spaces between words, in the way he looked at her, in the way his hands lingered a moment longer than necessary when they rested on her.
He adjusted his grip on the food, securing it carefully before turning back.
This was simple.
This made sense.
The world beyond this rarely offered clarity, but this? Providing for her, returning to her, ensuring she was cared for in ways both small and necessary?
There was no confusion in that.
Only certainty.
By the time So’lek made his way back, the forest had deepened fully into night. The bioluminescence had grown stronger, casting soft blues and greens across the path, the air cooler now against his skin. Even the sounds had shifted, quieter, more intimate—the kind of quiet that wrapped around you rather than pressed in, settling gently instead of demanding to be noticed.
His steps slowed as he approached, not from hesitation, but from awareness—from care. He adjusted the way he held the food so it would not make unnecessary noise, his movements naturally quieter now, more deliberate, each step measured without conscious thought.
The entrance to the kelku came into view once more, that same soft glow spilling outward, drawing him in with a pull that felt stronger now, steadier.
So’lek ducked inside, and immediately, everything in him softened.
The space was small and familiar, carrying the faint scent of woven fibers, forest air and her. It settled around him in an instant, easing something deep and unspoken as his gaze moved instinctively toward the hammock.
His sarentu—safe and warm in his space, untouched by it all.
୨୧ ─── ♡ ─── ୨୧ ─── ♡ ─── ୨୧ ─── ♡ ─── ୨୧
Tamtey had lost count.
She leaned against the woven edge of the kelku’s opening, fingers tracing the fibers absently as her eyes scanned the forest beyond—again, and again, and again.
Nothing.
Only the soft glow of night, the distant flicker of bioluminescent plants swaying gently as if the world itself had already settled into rest.
The eclipse had passed long ago.
She had watched it alone.
Her lips pressed into a thin line as she exhaled slowly, the breath heavier than she intended.
He should have been back by now.
So’lek was not careless. He was not late. He did not linger. If anything, he was the opposite—efficient to a fault, always returning when he said he would, always exactly where he needed to be, exactly when he needed to be there.
She drew in a slow breath, steadying it the way he had taught her, forcing the tension down even as it resisted. There were explanations. There were always explanations.
The Resistance, perhaps—something must have come up. Another arrangement, another correction, another task that only he could fix because no one else ever seemed to get it right the first time.
Or the hunt.
Something could have delayed him. He could still be tracking, still moving through the forest with that quiet patience of his, following something stubborn that refused to be caught.
He could be—
Her thoughts cut off sharply as she shook her head.
No.
He would not stay out without reason.
Her fingers curled into the woven edge, tightening slightly as the feeling in her chest shifted, sharpening. A steady, gnawing worry that refused to leave once it settled in.
Tamtey pushed herself away from the entrance, pacing once across the small space before stopping again, her movements restless, unfocused.
She should have been asleep by now.
Normally, she would have been—curled into the hammock, half tangled in the fabric, drifting off without realizing she had been waiting at all, trusting without question that he would return and find her there.
But tonight, sleep would not come.
Not when his space beside her was empty. Not when the forest felt just a little too quiet.
She sank back onto the hammock with a soft huff, dragging a hand down her face. “You are being ridiculous,” she muttered under her breath, though the words carried no real conviction.
He was fine. He had to be fine.
Her chest tightened again.
“…he’s fine,” she said, firmer this time, as if saying it aloud might force it into truth.
Still, her eyes flicked back toward the entrance.
Again. Just in case.
A long breath left her as she leaned back, staring up through the small opening where the night sky peeked through, stars blinking softly above. The hammock swayed beneath her, slow and familiar, the motion usually enough to pull her into sleep without effort.
Not tonight. Not without him.
Her fingers drifted absently to the space beside her, pressing into the fabric where his weight should have been. It felt wrong—too light, too empty, the absence more noticeable than the presence ever was.
Time stretched, quiet settling deeper around her, the stillness growing heavier the longer it remained undisturbed.
Tamtey turned onto her side, facing the entrance now, her eyes half-lidded but refusing to close fully. Her body was tired, aching for rest, but her mind would not let her have it.
A sound interrupts her train of thoughts.
The faint tangle of beads shifting against one another, brushing together in a way she knew before her thoughts could even catch up, the sound threading through her awareness like instinct.
Tamtey stilled.
And then her head snapped toward the entrance.
Her eyes brightened, wide and sharp, something warm rushing through her chest so quickly it almost hurt, relief flooding in before she could even name it.
There.
A shadow at the entrance. A presence she knew without needing to see.
“So’lek—”
His name slipped from her before she could stop it, soft but alive, relief woven through every syllable.
And just like that, the night didn’t feel so heavy anymore.
୨୧ ─── ♡ ─── ୨୧ ─── ♡ ─── ୨୧ ─── ♡ ─── ୨୧
The moment he steps fully inside, Tamtey doesn’t even think.
She moves—fast.
“MA' SO'LEKK!”
She’s off the hammock in a heartbeat, all sleepiness gone, all that quiet, gnawing worry bursting into something bright and overwhelming as she launches herself at him.
He barely has time to brace before she’s in his arms, her own wrapping tightly around his neck, her weight colliding into him without hesitation. Her face buries itself against him, nuzzling into the crook of his neck like she’s trying to make up for every second he was gone.
“I missed you! where have you been—” her words tumble over each other, breathless, half-laughing, half-accusing, “you took so long?!”
And then come the kisses.
Messy, rapid, entirely uncoordinated—his cheek, his jaw, the corner of his mouth.
“Mwah—mwah—mwah—!”
So’lek exhales, something caught between a quiet huff and the beginning of a laugh, as the full force of her affection hits him all at once.
“Sarentu—”
But she doesn’t stop.
Of course she doesn’t.
“I thought you got lost—no, actually you wouldn’t get lost—so then I thought something ate you—then I thought maybe you just forgot me, which is worse—”
“Mmm,” he hums lowly, adjusting his stance as she clings to him, one arm tightening instinctively around her waist to keep her steady.
The other arm still holding the food. Carefully.
Because despite her chaos, the way she’s currently attacking his face with affection he will not drop it. His grip remains firm, secure, the motion controlled even now.
Tamtey pulls back just enough to look at him, her hands coming up to cup his face as her eyes scan him quickly, checking in the only way she knows how.
“You’re late,” she accuses, though the edge has softened, dulled by the way her thumbs brush over his cheeks.
“You are still awake,” he counters quietly.
She gasps, offended.
“I waited,” she insists, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “Obviously.”
So’lek’s gaze softens—just slightly, but enough that it lingers.
He shifts the food in his hand, freeing just enough movement before leaning in and pressing a gentle kiss to the tip of her nose. It’s soft, brief, and entirely intentional.
“I missed you too.”
It’s quiet, almost lost beneath the lingering echo of her energy but it lands.
It always does.
Tamtey freezes for half a second, her expression going completely still and then she melts.
Her entire face softens into something brighter, warmer, her forehead dropping lightly against his as a small, satisfied hum escapes her.
“…you’re forgiven,” she decides immediately.
Of course.
So’lek huffs softly again, something warmer this time, his free hand rising to rest at the back of her head, fingers threading lightly into her hair to steady her where she leans into him.
“Good,” he murmurs.
Her nose nudges against his again, slower now, softer, the earlier rush of energy settling into something quieter, more content now that he’s here.
Then her gaze flicks downward.
Pauses.
“…what is that?”
So’lek follows her gaze, as if only now remembering.
“Food.”
“For me?” Her voice lifts again, bright—but softer this time, fond rather than frantic.
He nods once.
“Of course.”
Tamtey stares at him for a moment, something shifting in her expression. something dangerously soft, entirely unguarded.
“…you brought me food,” she repeats, quieter now.
“What kind of mate would I be if I did not?” he replies simply.
That’s all it takes.
She lets out a small, emotional sound—half laugh, half something else—and immediately leans in again, pressing another series of kisses to his face, slower this time, lingering.
“Mwah—you’re the best—mwah—don’t ever leave again—mwah—”
“I left for a few hours.”
“Too long.”
He doesn’t argue.
Instead, he shifts his hold on her, guiding her back toward the hammock with steady, careful steps. She stays wrapped around him, still clinging, still sneaking little kisses wherever she can reach as they move.
By the time they reach it, she’s already halfway draped over him again, her energy dimming into something softer, sleepier, her movements slower but no less affectionate.
And So’lek still tired, still aching— but no longer weighed down.
Not when she’s like this.
Not when she’s his.
୨୧ ─── ♡ ─── ୨୧ ─── ♡ ─── ୨୧ ─── ♡ ─── ୨୧
They settle into the hammock like it’s second nature, the woven ropes shifting slightly as So’lek lowers himself first, steadying the structure with a practiced hand before guiding Tamtey down with him. The moment she’s within reach, she doesn’t bother sitting properly—of course she doesn’t—half climbing over him instead, one leg hooked over his, her arms still loosely wrapped around his shoulders like she has no intention of letting go anytime soon.
“…you are difficult,” he murmurs, though there’s no weight behind the words.
“You love it,” she shoots back immediately, already reaching for the food he had set aside.
He doesn’t deny it. He never does.
The scent of the yerik meat fills the small space as she unwraps it, the warmth and richness of it settling into the air between them. Her expression shifts instantly—softening, brightening—in that way that always seems to settle something deeper in his chest.
“You really brought this for me,” she says again, softer now, as though still processing it.
So’lek gives a small nod. “Eat.”
She tears off a piece without hesitation and then, just as quickly, holds it up toward him, her gaze firm with quiet expectation.
“First bite is yours.”
“I brought it for you.”
“And I am giving it to you,” she counters, tilting her head just slightly as if daring him to argue.
He studies her for a moment.
The way her mouth sets with quiet stubbornness. The warmth in her eyes. The simple, unwavering refusal to lower her hand.
Then, without further argument, he leans forward and takes the bite.
Taletey grins immediately, pleased in a way that is far too proud for something so small.
“See? Not so hard.”
So’lek exhales softly. something between a sigh and the hint of a laugh before taking a piece for himself, holding it out toward her in return.
Her smile widens at that.
“Oh, now you want to share—”
“Eat,” he repeats.
She does.
And just like that, it becomes a rhythm between them. Back and forth, the two of them sharing in quiet tandem, her fingers brushing lightly against his lips, his hand steady and deliberate as he offers her each bite in return. There is no rush in the way they move, no urgency in the moment—only care, wrapped in something familiar and deeply unspoken.
By the time they reach the yolvo fruit, Tamtey has already begun to settle further into him, her earlier burst of energy slowly softening into something gentler, something more rooted in comfort than motion.
She hums softly as she takes a bite, her eyes drifting closed for just a moment. “This one’s sweet.”
“I know.”
Her eyes open again, flicking up toward him with quiet amusement.
“…what took you so long?”
The question carries none of its earlier sharpness. No accusation. Only curiosity, gentle and open, as her fingers rest lightly against his arm.
So’lek is quiet for a moment, not because he hesitates, but because he gathers the words carefully before speaking.
“The Resistance needed adjustments,” he begins, his voice low and steady. “Routes were inefficient. Supplies misplaced.”
Tamtey makes a small face at that. “Of course they were.”
A faint flicker of amusement touches his expression.
“And Nor,” he adds.
She groans immediately. “No.”
“Yes.”
“What did he do this time?”
So’lek exhales lightly through his nose before answering. “Entered a clearing without reading it.”
Taletey gasps, scandalized. “Absolutely not.”
“He survived.”
“Well, unfortunately,” she mutters, though there’s a trace of reluctant humor in it, before nudging his shoulder lightly. “You didn’t leave him there, did you?”
So’lek glances down at her, expression calm, almost unreadable.
“…no.”
“Shame.”
“They always need training,” she murmurs.
“They push too hard.”
“That sounds familiar,” she teases lightly, though her hand settles more firmly on his arm, thumb brushing slowly over his skin in a way that grounds both of them.
So’lek doesn’t pull away.
“The hunt was delayed,” he continues. “The animal was persistent.”
Tamtey studies him for a moment, her expression shifting subtly as she takes in his posture, the lingering tension still held in his shoulders. Her hand slides up, resting against him with quiet intention, her touch firm but gentle as she presses into the muscle there.
“You worked too hard,” she says.
She sighs softly and leans in, pressing her forehead briefly against his jaw, her voice softening even further as she speaks again.
“You don’t always have to fix everything.”
“…but I know you will anyway.”
His hand shifts at her back, steadying her, pulling her just a fraction closer in response, his touch firm but careful, as if anchoring her to him in the same quiet way she anchors him.
She melts into it without resistance.
They fall back into their rhythm easily—bite for bite, slow and unhurried. Taletey hums softly as she eats, her fingers slightly sticky from the fruit, though she pays it no mind, still talking, still smiling, still leaning into him like she belongs there without question.
She does.
So’lek watches her for a moment longer than necessary.
Then reaches for her hand.
Not abruptly. Just a steady, familiar motion until her fingers rest in his grasp.
She blinks up at him.
“What—”
He tilts her hand slightly and, without ceremony, leans in to lick the trace of fruit from her fingertips
slowly and deliberately, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
Tamtey freezes.
Just for a moment.
And then her entire expression brightens.
“…oh?”
“So that’s what we’re doing?” she says, voice shifting instantly into something playful.
So’lek releases her hand, calm as ever, though there is the faintest shift in his expression.
“You were messy.”
She gasps. “Excuse you—”
“You were messy.”
She narrows her eyes at him, clearly considering her next move, before leaning in closer, inspecting his face with exaggerated seriousness.
“…hold still.”
He does not move.
Not because he has to—but because he wants to see what she will do.
Her gaze traces over his features before she hums softly, satisfied.
“Aha.”
“What.”
“You have something,” she says.
“Where.”
Instead of answering she cups his face and presses a quick, precise kiss to the corner of his mouth, licking away the remnants of the sweet fruit.
“There.”
So’lek blinks once.
Then exhales quietly, something warm settling in his chest as he looks at her—really looks at her in that moment.
“…that was unnecessary.”
She grins, completely unbothered.
“Was it?”
A pause.
“You didn’t stop me.”
He doesn’t answer that.
She settles back against him as though nothing happened, as though kissing him were as ordinary as breathing, her head finding its place against his chest once more while her fingers begin to trace slow, absent patterns along his arm.
“Next time,” she murmurs, “try not to get food on your face.”
“…next time,” he replies quietly, “you try not to get your fingers messy.”
She snorts softly.
“Unlikely.”
୨୧ ─── ♡ ─── ୨୧ ─── ♡ ─── ୨୧ ─── ♡ ─── ୨୧
The food is forgotten somewhere between them.
The hammock sways gently, its motion slow and soothing as the night deepens around them, the woven fibers shifting softly beneath their combined weight.
Tamtey leans back just slightly, tugging him with her until they’re both angled enough to see through the opening above.
Stars.
Scattered across the sky like something delicate and endless, distant yet constant.
“Look,” she whispers, pointing lazily. “That one’s brighter tonight.”
So’lek follows her gaze without a word.
He doesn’t speak. But he watches.
Because she wants him to.
Her fingers find his again, absentmindedly tracing along his knuckles as her voice drifts, soft and unhurried, pointing out shapes that don’t quite exist, existing only in the quiet space between them.
He listens. Not to the stars. But to her.
So’lek’s hand rests at her back, his fingers moving in small, absent motions—grounding, familiar, as though confirming without needing to think that she is still there, still real, still beside him.
She tilts her head slightly, her voice slipping into something softer, quieter.
“…So’lek,” she murmurs.
Her fingers shift, trailing along his arm, then down until they rest at his wrist. A quiet question.
He stills for just a moment.
Then his gaze lowers to her.
She’s looking up at him now, eyes half-lidded but clear, something deeper settling beneath the softness. something that doesn’t need to be spoken aloud.
“Come here,” she whispers.
They move together without hurry, the hammock dipping slightly under the shift as they adjust, sitting up just enough to face one another.
Unhurried. Always unhurried with him.
Her hands rise first, gentle as they find his queue, her touch careful, reverent even in its softness. There is no teasing now, no brightness spilling out of her.
only warmth, steady and sure.
So’lek mirrors her, his movements precise but controlled, guiding his own queue forward.
For a moment, they pause.
Close enough to feel each other’s breath, foreheads nearly touching, the space between them thin and quiet.
Her eyes flick to his.
His remain steady on hers.
And then Connection.
The world shifts.
Not in sound, but in presence.
The forest still exists. The night still hums softly around them. The stars remain above, distant and unchanged—but everything else fades, blurring into something that no longer matters.
Tamtey exhales slowly, her shoulders loosening as something deeper settles over her, the restlessness from earlier dissolving completely into stillness.
So’lek’s hand steadies at her arms, grounding but gentle, his presence unwavering, solid in a way that holds without pressing.
It isn’t overwhelming or loud.
but rather warm and full.
Familiar in a way that goes beyond words.
Her forehead rests lightly against his when they settle again, still connected, her breath slow and even now, her entire body finally at ease.
“…hi,” she whispers, like she’s seeing him all over again.
So’lek’s lips twitch faintly.
“Hi.”
A quiet huff of laughter leaves her, soft and sleepy, her hands sliding down to rest against his chest again as she leans into him fully, letting herself sink into the comfort of him.
The bond lingers between them like a shared heartbeat.
No urgency. No rush.
His hand lifts slowly, brushing along her cheek, his thumb settling just beneath her eye, the motion careful, almost absent in its tenderness as he studies her face in the quiet.
୨୧ ─── ♡ ─── ୨୧ ─── ♡ ─── ୨୧ ─── ♡ ─── ୨୧
So’lek almost falls asleep.
almost.
“…So’lek.”
A low hum answers her automatically, his hand shifting at her back in a slow, instinctive motion that draws her closer, keeping her anchored to him even as sleep tugs at the edges of his awareness.
There’s a pause, like she’s weighing the words before she lets them go.
“I visited the tsahìk today.”
So’lek’s eyes open.
Not sharply. Not with alarm.
But with awareness, the kind that settles into his body before it ever reaches his expression. He stills beneath her, tension threading lightly through his muscles as his focus narrows, sharpening in that controlled way it always does when something feels off.
“The tsahìk,” he repeats, his voice low, steady.
“Why.”
His hand moves without drawing attention to it, brushing along her arm, then her side, checking without making the concern obvious.
Tamtey feels it anyway.
She lifts her head just enough to look at him—and then she smiles.
Soft. Sleepy.
Bright in a way that doesn’t match his concern at all.
His brow tightens, just slightly.
“You are injured?” he asks.
“No.”
“Sick?”
“No,” she repeats, a quiet laugh slipping out, light and unbothered.
His hand stills against her, his gaze sharpening as it lingers on her face, searching now with more focus, trying to understand what she isn’t saying.
“…then why.”
Tamtey doesn’t answer right away.
Instead, her hand drifts downward, resting lightly against her stomach. small, almost absent in its movement, but entirely intentional.
So’lek follows it.
And for a moment, nothing happens.
Then, it settles.
The realization doesn’t strike all at once; it unfolds, quiet and undeniable, until everything in him goes still.
as though the world has narrowed to that single point beneath her hand.
“…syulang,” he says, more softly now.
She doesn’t speak.
She only watches him, that same gentle smile lingering, her eyes warmer now, holding something she’s been carrying carefully all this time.
His gaze shifts—from her face, to her hand, and back again.
“You are certain,” he asks, his voice lower than before, each word measured with care.
She nods.
“I am.”
So’lek exhales, slow and controlled—but different than before. Something in his chest shifts, deep and steady, unfamiliar in its weight, in its quiet magnitude.
His hand moves, more deliberate than anything he’s done all day, coming to rest over hers where it lies against her stomach. His touch is careful, almost tentative in a way that doesn’t come naturally to him, like he’s aware of something fragile beneath his hands.
“…ours,” he murmurs.
Tamtey’s smile deepens, softening even further as she looks at him.
“Ours.”
His thumb brushes once across the back of her hand, grounding motions that make the moment real, anchor it into something solid.
Taletey watches him, her earlier brightness melting into something quieter, something deeper, her entire expression soft with it.
“You look like you’re thinking too much,” she whispers.
“I am.”
She huffs softly, nudging her forehead against his in a small, familiar gesture.
“Don’t. You’re going to scare it away.”
So’lek exhales quietly, the faintest hint of a smile pulling at his mouth.
“That is not how this works.”
“I know,” she murmurs. “But still.”
His arm tightens around her then, drawing her closer as he leans down, pressing a slow, lingering kiss to her forehead. the contact deliberate and unhurried.
Then lower.
Just above where her hand rests.
Then she melts into him again, her arms wrapping around him as she buries her face into the curve of his neck, her body fitting against his like it always does.
“You’re happy,” she murmurs.
Not a question. So’lek’s hand settles firmly at her back, steady and sure.
“Yes.”
And now there is something more.
Not just the quiet, steady love they have built between long days and tired nights. Not just them.
Something growing.
Something theirs.
୨୧ ─── ♡ ─── ୨୧ ─── ♡ ─── ୨୧ ─── ♡ ─── ୨୧
Her voice drifts up again, softer now, the edges of her words already beginning to blur as sleep pulls at them.
“…we need names.”
So’lek answers with a low hum, his eyes heavy, his attention resting only on the warmth against him.
“We do.”
A quiet pause settles between them, unhurried and full. He can feel her breathing where she lies against his chest, slow and steady, her presence grounding in a way that makes the rest of the world feel far away.
Then, faint but certain, a smile touches her voice.
“It’s going to be something strong.”
“It will be,” he replies, calm and sure.
“And pretty,” she adds, almost immediately, as if the thought cannot wait.
Something soft flickers at the corner of his mouth.
“…and strong.”
She shifts against him, nudging her forehead into his chest in quiet protest, stubborn even like this. “Both.”
His arm tightens slightly around her, keeping her close without effort.
“Both,” he agrees, his voice gentler now.
After that, their conversation loosens, drifting into something softer. Words come slower, less precise, slipping between them like the night air.
“What if it’s loud?” she murmurs, the question barely more than breath.
“It will be.”
A small huff escapes her. “Rude.”
“You are loud.”
“I am expressive,” she corrects, quieter now but no less certain.
A low breath of amusement leaves him, warm and quiet, his hand moving idly along her arm in a slow, absent motion.
“Mm.”
Her voice begins to fade after that, stretching at the edges, her words softening as sleep takes hold.
“But… names,” she insists again, more faint this time, like she is holding onto the thought with the last of her energy.
So’lek does not answer right away.
“If it is a boy,” he says at last, his voice low and steady, “he will earn his name.”
Tamtey hums softly in response, already slipping deeper into sleep, the sound small and content.
“Mhm… okay…”
The quiet lingers again, gentle and unbroken.
Then his voice returns, softer.
“If it is a girl…”
“…we will name her Aha'ri... Like your late sister”
The name settles between them, quiet and certain.
For a moment, Tamtey does not respond.
Her breath catches, just slightly, enough for him to feel it against his chest. The slow rhythm of her breathing stutters, then stills, like something in her has been pulled backward before she can stop it. Her fingers, resting against him, curl faintly into his side.
Not pain, not fully. But the memory of it. The kind that never really leaves.
So’lek feels it immediately.
His arm tightens around her without thinking, grounding, steady. He does not rush to fill the silence. He lets her have it, lets the weight of the name settle the way it needs to.
After a moment, she shifts closer instead of away, pressing her face more firmly into his chest as if choosing this over whatever tried to surface.
When she speaks, her voice is softer than before, but clearer than sleep alone would make it.
“…she would have liked that,” Tamtey murmurs.
His hand moves slowly along her arm, a quiet reassurance.
“She would have,” he answers.
A small breath leaves her, uneven at first, then easing as she settles again. Her grip loosens, though she stays close, closer than before.
“…Aha'ri,” she repeats, barely a whisper now, like she is testing the name in a gentler place.
So’lek dips his head again, resting it lightly against her hair this time, his presence steady and certain.
“Yes.”
୨୧ ─── ♡ ─── ୨୧ ─── ♡ ─── ୨୧ ─── ♡ ─── ୨୧
The hammock continues to sway gently beneath them, mulling them to sleep.
Fingers remain loosely intertwined. Foreheads touch. There are soft, fleeting kisses exchanged in the quiet, carrying everything they do not need to say.
At some point, her words begin to fade.
“…you came back,” she murmurs, barely audible.
“I said I would.”
So’lek looks down at her. Her face is soft now. Lashes resting against her cheeks, lips slightly parted as her breathing evens out. Her cheek presses against his, warm and squishy.
So’lek exhales quietly, the breath leaving him slow and steady as the last of the day finally loosens its hold.
So’lek lets his eyes fall shut, his hold on her firm and certain, unyielding even in rest.
And beneath the soft hush of the forest, they fall asleep together.
୨୧ ─── ♡ ─── ୨୧ ─── ♡ ─── ୨୧ ─── ♡ ─── ୨୧
Reblogs, likes, comments and feedback are appreciated!
summary: working as in house counsel means you've become very acquainted with jack abbot and his little scrawl of a signature. god help him.
content: sexually explicit content, age gap, swearing, medical inaccuracy obviously--sue me I'm in law not medicine, blood and wound mentions but this is a medical show so
total wc: 42,468
status: ongoing
godlight (wc: 16.7k) | the first friday of every month you make your way down to the emergency department with a stack of insurance claims in hand to harass robby with, and you leave through the stairs with jack abbot, fresh off his shift and half a step behind you, muttering something lowly in your ear that makes you laugh.
hey, siri (wc: 3k) | you become privy to some abbot-sponsored healthcare fraud.
ornithological jurisprudence (wc: 3k) | bothering jack abbot is your specialty, fuck whatever your actual job is.
goldilocks (wc: 5k) | jack has trouble sleeping. you don’t make it any easier.
saint jack (wc: 14.3k) | abbot decides it's your turn to fix what's broken and, lucky for you, he's there to talk you through it.
Author’s note : This fic was not supposed to be this long. I originally planned for something around 8k, but while rereading, I realized a lot of sections had somehow disappeared for absolutely no good reason—so I had to rewrite and rework a large part of it. And well… now it’s 11k. That’s also why this took longer than expected—sorry about that.
Also, I finished editing this at 3 a.m., so there is a very real chance something is still missing or slightly off. If you notice any weird gaps or missing pieces, please tell me and I’ll go fix it—because I am absolutely not rereading 11k for the tenth time tonight. I am posting this fully in the dark.
This oneshot is also… extremely chaotic. In the best way. Their dynamic is sweet, sarcastic, and steadily becomes more and more unhinged as the alcohol flows—and honestly, I’m pretty sure you’re going to love it for exactly that reason. It is SFW… mostly. I did sneak in a few sexy jokes here and there, because let’s be honest—at some point, they’re absolutely going to go there. Just not quite yet.
And for those who don’t know me yet, I write Tamtey x So’lek fics where Tamtey is written as female and the two are already romantically involved. If you’d like more context for this oneshot, I recommend checking out my fic AGE GAP first. Otherwise—enjoy!
Summary : So’lek only agreed to stay for a little while. But a festival has its own rules. As music, firelight, and too much alcohol pull Tamtey further out of her carefully built control, a quiet night turns into something tender, reckless, and unexpectedly intimate. Between longing glances, unspoken boundaries, and drunk mischief that goes a little too far, both of them are forced to confront how thin the line between restraint and desire really is. A soft, chaotic oneshot about trust, closeness, and staying far longer than planned.
Warnings: Alcohol use + drinking games, Drunk Tamtey (chaotic edition), Slow burn, Established relationship, Soft intimacy, Flirting, Near-bite (yes, really), Mild sexual tension, Mild suggestive thoughts, Soft cuddling, i think that’s it.
As always, happy reading.
So’lek has already said no.
Twice, technically—once with a quiet shake of his head, once with a flat “No.” Both delivered with the same calm certainty he uses when scouting routes or dismantling RDA tech. Final. Unmovable.
The Zeswa camp sprawls across the plains in the distance, alive with motion and sound. Fires dot the horizon like fallen stars. Drums roll low and steady, a rhythm that carries through the ground itself, vibrating up through bone and muscle. Laughter rises and falls on the wind. The air smells of smoke, fermented drink, and something sweet you don’t recognize.
It’s loud. Open. Too exposed.
So’lek stands at the edge of it all, arms crossed, posture loose, gaze moving slowly through the crowd with quiet, habitual awareness.
You, on the other hand, feel the pull of the music immediately.
Someone has already smeared pale paint along your cheekbones, careless and uneven. There’s more on your hands, faintly luminous where it catches the firelight. You turn back toward him with a grin that’s just a little too pleased with itself.
“You’re really going to stand there all night?” you ask.
“Yes.”
You roll your eyes and step closer, invading his carefully kept space without hesitation. Your fingers close around his wrist—warm, confident, familiar in a way that makes his jaw tighten.
So’lek watches the fires for a long moment before speaking.
“You don’t need me for this,” he says quietly. “You can go. I’ll stay here.”
It’s meant to be reasonable. Protective. Distance offered the way he always does.
You still. Your ears dip before you can stop them.
It’s small—instinctive—but he sees it immediately. The brightness in your eyes dims, not into hurt—but into quiet, unmistakable disappointment.
You let out a small, tired sigh.
You keep your gaze on him. “I don’t want to go alone.”
So’lek exhales slowly through his nose, gaze dropping for just a moment.
Then he looks at you. Really looks.
He hesitates, weighing something you can’t quite read.
You meet his eyes and tilt your head just slightly, ears still low, lashes lifting in quiet, unmistakable appeal.
“Pretty please,” you add softly.
He closes his eyes. Just for a second.
Then he rolls them, slow and deliberate, like he can’t quite believe this is working.
“…Fine,” he says.
He pauses, then adds pointedly,
“For a little while.”
A beat.
“Then I go. I’m tired.”
Satisfied relief flashes across your face. You grin at him, slow and unmistakably victorious.
“Deal,” you say lightly.
Then, just because you can’t help yourself,
“See? That wasn’t so hard.”
His eyes narrow a fraction.
“I’m not dancing.”
You pause. Consider.
Then, wisely, you lift both hands in surrender, smile turning innocent again.
“Wouldn’t dream of it.”
Before he can add anything else, you lean in and press a quick kiss to his cheek.
It lasts less than a heartbeat. It still hits him like a physical strike.
His breath catches—just barely. Heat blooms along his cheek, up the edge of his ear. He stills on instinct, jaw tightening as he forces himself not to turn his head, not to follow the contact you’ve already stolen.
By the time he looks at you again, you’re already pulling back, expression far too pleased with yourself.
You turn toward the fires and start walking, not even checking to see if he’ll follow. You already know he will.
He keeps his gaze forward.
The closer you get to the heart of the camp, the warmer the air becomes.
The main bonfire rises ahead of you, flames leaping high enough to paint the undersides of clouds in gold and ember-red. The ground around it is packed flat from use, ringed with people sitting cross-legged or sprawled on woven hides, cups in hand, laughter threading through the steady pulse of drums.
This is where everything converges.
Music drifts from one side—low strings, breathy flutes, a rhythm that hums beneath the skin rather than demanding attention. On the other, a small crowd has gathered around a cleared circle of earth where two Zeswa warriors spar, bare feet striking the ground in quick, powerful bursts. It isn’t aggressive. It’s skillful. Fluid. Cheers rise when someone lands a clean maneuver, dissolve just as quickly back into conversation.
You slow without thinking, drawn in.
So’lek stops half a step behind you, gaze moving over the sparring ring, the fire, the shifting crowd.
You glance back at him, eyes bright. “This is the good part.”
He huffs softly, something between agreement and resignation.
You find a place to sit near the edge of the fire’s glow, close enough to feel the warmth but not so close it scorches. Someone wordlessly hands you a cup as you settle, and this time you accept it without hesitation. You take a sip, make a pleased sound under your breath, then another.
So’lek remains standing for a moment longer, arms loosely crossed, scanning out of habit more than necessity. When he finally sits beside you, it’s with his back straight, knees drawn up slightly, like he hasn’t fully decided this counts as resting.
You glance at him, then at his rigid posture.
“Wow,” you murmur. “So comfortable.”
He huffs quietly.
“Be grateful I’m here at all.”
You lift both hands in surrender, smile turning innocent again.
“Alright. I’ll behave.”
He doesn’t answer.
But after a moment, he shifts—just a fraction. One knee lowers, his back easing from its rigid line, posture settling into something marginally more comfortable.
He keeps his gaze forward, expression unchanged. Like this was his idea all along.
Your smile sharpens, unmistakably triumphant.
He stares straight ahead.
You’ve always known he was far too easy to provoke.
Your knee bumps his.
Not enough to apologize for. Not enough to move away from.
The sparring grows more animated, the fighters switching out amid laughter and clapping. Someone near the musicians starts singing—low and rough around the edges, the kind of voice meant to carry across open land. The crowd joins in where they know the words.
You sway a little where you sit, head tipping with the rhythm. The firelight catches in your eyes, in the faint paint still streaked across your skin.
This time, when you lean closer, it isn’t an accident.
Your shoulder brushes his arm, light and deliberate, and you let it stay there.
He stills. Then, slowly, he lets himself remain exactly where he is.
A Zeswa elder nearby chuckles as one of the sparring warriors nearly loses their footing, and you laugh too—easy, unguarded. You lift your cup again, then offer it toward So’lek without looking, already knowing what he’ll say.
He hesitates. Then, against his better judgment, he takes it. Just one sip.
It’s enough to make his throat warm and his head feel ever so slightly lighter. He hands it back without comment, but when your fingers brush his in the exchange, his attention lingers for just a beat longer than necessary.
You catch the look and smile faintly before turning your focus back to the fire.
Around you, the festival carries on—sparring, music, laughter, the quiet intimacy of people simply being together.
And for now, for this little while he promised, So’lek stays.
…
You’re enjoying the drink far more than you probably should.
It’s sweeter than it looks, warming as it settles, loosening something in your chest. You sip without thinking now, eyes half on the sparring ring, half on the way the firelight flickers and bends around the edges of the world. By the time the cup is half-empty, you’re already smiling for no reason at all.
When a Zeswa passes nearby with a fresh tray, you straighten a little, attention snapping to it immediately.
“Oh—wait,” you say, lifting your cup.
You turn and press what’s left of it into So’lek’s hand before he can refuse, fingers lingering just long enough to make your intent clear. “Finish it.”
He looks down at the cup, then at you.
“I’m fine,” he says automatically.
You’re already reaching for a new one, accepting it with a pleased little hum. “You don’t get to waste it.”
The Zeswa laughs softly as they move on, clearly amused.
So’lek exhales, eyes narrowing just a fraction as he studies the dark liquid. He doesn’t need it. He knows that. But the warmth from the fire and the press of bodies around them makes refusal feel… unnecessary.
He takes a careful drink. Then another.
It settles differently this time. Warmer. Slower. A faint hum blooming behind his eyes.
You glance over at him, eyes bright. “See? That wasn’t so bad.”
He hands the empty cup back to the passing Zeswa, jaw tight. “You’re enjoying this too much.”
You laugh, tipping your head back slightly as you take your own sip. “That’s the point.”
Your knee bumps his again, more deliberate this time, and when you don’t pull away, he doesn’t either. The fire crackles louder, someone cheers as a sparring match ends in laughter, and the music swells.
So’lek keeps his gaze forward.
But he registers, with quiet precision, the way you lean closer now—and how he makes no move to stop it.
Your attention drifts as the night deepens. Not to the sparring anymore, or even the music—but to the people scattered around the fire’s edge. Couples, mostly. Or pairs that have long since stopped pretending they aren’t.
Your fingers rest loosely around your cup as you take it all in.
Once you notice it, it’s everywhere—the ease with which bodies fit together, affection worn openly and without apology. A woman sits comfortably in her mate’s lap, laughter spilling freely as he murmurs something only she hears. Nearby, someone leans back against a chest, eyes half-closed, utterly unbothered by who might be watching. Tails curl together without thought. Hands rest where they please.
Further back, beyond the firelight, shapes slip behind tents amid quiet laughter. Kisses stolen with the easy assumption that the night belongs to them alone.
You look away before you linger too long. Not because you’re embarrassed— but because you already know he would never be one of those men.
The feeling remains anyway. Warm. Steady. Not something that demands action—just there, humming quietly beneath the surface, in time with the music threading through the camp.
You glance back at So’lek.
He sits beside you with space between you intact, posture relaxed but contained. He doesn’t look at the couples. Or if he does, he gives nothing away. He never has. There are lines he keeps, especially in places like this, among people who know him.
You don’t move closer. You don’t touch him.
You simply sit there, sharing the firelight and the noise and the unspoken understanding of what is and what is not meant for public view.
The bonfire crackles, sparks lifting into the dark. Laughter rises, fades. Somewhere behind the tents, someone forgets themselves completely.
You stay where you are. So does he.
And the space between you carries more than either of you is willing to cross.
…
You’re still watching the fire when familiar voices cut through the noise.
“Tamtey!”
You turn just in time to see Ri’nela weaving slightly as she approaches, arm looped firmly through Teylan’s. Her steps aren’t sloppy, exactly—but they’re loose in a way you’ve never seen on a Tsahìk before. Her cheeks are warm with color, her braids swaying as she laughs at something only she finds funny.
Teylan looks… overwhelmed.
He’s holding her cup very carefully, like it might bite him if he does something wrong, eyes darting between her and the ground like he’s afraid she’ll lose her footing if he blinks too long. He looks genuinely relieved when he spots you—and So’lek beside you.
“Oh, thank Eywa,” he says, a little too earnestly. “You’re here.”
Ri’nela beams at you, clearly delighted. “We found you,” she announces, as if this were a great accomplishment. “Teylan won’t dance.”
“I don’t want to dance,” Teylan says quickly. “And I don’t like how it tastes. The drink. It’s… sharp.” He glances at Ri’nela, lowering his voice. “She’s had more than enough.”
Ri’nela scoffs, waving him off with a careless flick of her hand. “I’m fine.” Then she leans closer to you, stage-whispering, “He’s very serious tonight.”
You snort before you can stop yourself.
For a brief moment, there’s a flicker of annoyance—not because they’ve interrupted anything important, but because the quiet bubble you’d been sitting in pops all at once.
It fades almost immediately.
It’s hard to be annoyed when Teylan looks like a skittish ikran handler and Ri’nela is smiling like she’s just discovered a brand-new world.
You glance at Ri’nela again, really look at her—at the looseness in her posture, the way she laughs without restraint—and your surprise softens into something warmer.
It’s… nice. Seeing her like this.
Ri’nela’s gaze drifts toward the dancers near the fire, eyes lighting up. “Come with me,” she says suddenly, turning back to you. “I want to dance. He won’t.” She jerks her head toward Teylan, who immediately stiffens.
“I absolutely will not,” he says, earnest to the point of panic.
Ri’nela pouts for half a second, then refocuses on you, hopeful and insistent all at once.
You hesitate. Not because you don’t want to—but because you instinctively look back at So’lek.
He’s watching the exchange with a calm, unmistakable smile tugging at his mouth. Not sharp. Not guarded. Just… there. His posture is easy, shoulders relaxed, eyes warm with quiet amusement—especially when Ri’nela nearly bumps into Teylan and he scrambles to steady her like the world might end if he doesn’t.
When your eyes meet his, his expression softens further, fond and unbothered. He looks almost content. Like he’s enjoying this—seeing people he cares about loose and alive and unthreatened.
It’s fine.
You let out a small breath, already smiling. “Alright,” you say, standing. “I’ll go.”
Ri’nela claps her hands, delighted, and immediately starts tugging you toward the dancers.
Teylan follows you with visible relief—and more than a little concern—as if he’s just been handed temporary custody of So’lek instead.
You glance back once more as you’re pulled away. So’lek hasn’t moved. He meets your gaze again, smile still in place, and inclines his head just a fraction—easy approval, quiet encouragement.
Then you’re swallowed by movement and music, leaving the two men behind by the fire.
Teylan tracks you into the crowd— then falters.
His attention shifts back to So’lek, quick and assessing, as if only now remembering the other responsibility he might have just inherited.
He studies him for a second. The straight posture The steady eyes The complete lack of sway.
If So’lek has had more than he should, it doesn’t show. He looks perfectly capable of handling himself.
Teylan lets out a slow breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. He glances back at So’lek.
“…She’s not usually like this.”
So’lek huffs softly, eyes still tracking Ri’nela’s unsteady steps.
“No,” he says, faint amusement coloring his voice. “But it suits her.”
And Teylan, still half-convinced Ri’nela might drag him into the fire next, lets out a small, helpless laugh.
Ri’nela wastes no time. The moment you agree, she hooks her arm through yours with a delighted laugh and pulls you straight into the movement near the bonfire, braids swinging as the music swells. The heat hits you immediately—fire, bodies, sound all pressing in at once—and for a second you’re laughing just from the sheer excess of it.
Behind you, Teylan exhales like a man spared an imminent death and promptly drops down beside So’lek with a soft thump.
So’lek glances at him. It’s not sharp. Just a look—measured, brief.
Teylan freezes, halfway through adjusting his seat, suddenly very aware of where he’s chosen to land.
So’lek looks back to the fire instead, posture shifting just enough to make room. The unspoken allowance settles easily between them: Fine. You can sit there. Just until she comes back.
Teylan relaxes immediately.
“Oh thank Eywa,” he mutters, rubbing a hand over his face. “She really stressed me out for a moment there. She’s never like that. I mean—she’s always confident, but this?” He gestures vaguely toward the dancers. “This is… a lot.
“She seems happy,” So’lek says, watching Ri’nela laugh as she spins you around
Teylan huffs a weak laugh. “She tried to make me dance.”
Teylan snorts despite himself. “You have no idea.”
He glances toward the dancers again, watching Ri’nela laugh as she spins you around.
“I thought you enjoyed these things,” So’lek says mildly.
Teylan lets out a helpless laugh. “I enjoy watching them.”
So’lek huffs. “Fair.”
Teylan lifts a brow at him.
“And you?” he asks. “I thought you’d be back at your camp by now, sharpening your knives or brooding at something.
So’lek huffs before he can stop himself.
“That’s not all I do,” So’lek says flatly.
Teylan glances at him, unconvinced.
“Mm,” he hums. “You don’t usually come to festivals just to enjoy them.”
A beat
So’lek looks back to the fire.
“…Tamtey wanted me to stay.”
Teylan’s eyes flick toward the dancers. Then back to him.
“Ah,” he says simply.
That explains everything.
So’lek’s gaze flicks to him.
“What is that supposed to mean?”
Teylan hesitates, clearly choosing his words.
“Well…”
He glances toward the dancers again, then back at So’lek.
“…you don’t usually bend for people like that.”
So’lek stiffens a fraction.
“That’s not—”
He stops himself, jaw tightening.
Teylan smiles faintly.
“I’m just saying.
So’lek’s jaw tightens.
He doesn’t answer right away. Because Teylan isn’t wrong. He does not bend easily. He does not stay places he doesn’t wish to be And he does not make exceptions lightly.
Except—
He looks back toward the dancers, just briefly.
Then away again.
So’lek exhales through his nose.
“You read too much into things.”
Teylan’s smile turns knowing.
“Of course I do.”
…
Meanwhile, you’re laughing too hard to care about dignity.
Ri’nela spins you once more before someone shoves a cup into your hand, and you accept it without hesitation. The drink is warm and sharp and sweet all at once, loosening your limbs and making the world feel just a little brighter around the edges.
That’s when Nesim appears—like she always does—grinning and already holding another cup.
Ri’nela lights up.
“Nesim!”
You laugh and accept the drink someone has just pressed into your hand, clinking cups with Ri’nela without ceremony. Of course she’s here. Of course things are escalating.
Nesim slips easily into place beside you, watching the two of you with open amusement.
“So,” she says lightly. “Are you two actually having fun yet?”
Ri’nela grins, a little breathless. “I think so.”
Nesim hums, unconvinced.
“That’s not how the Zeswa usually celebrate,” she says.
You narrow your eyes at her. “Oh no.”
Her smile widens.
“Do you want to see how we really celebrate?
You hesitate, studying her.
“…That sounds like a terrible idea,” you say slowly.
Nesim’s grin turns positively delighted.
“That’s how you know it’s a good one.”
Ri’nela laughs, brushing a loose braid from her face. “What is it?”
Nesim tilts her head, eyes bright with mischief.
“A drinking contest.”
You blink. Of course it is.
Your gaze flicks, without quite meaning to, toward the edge of the firelight—toward where you know So’lek is sitting. The thought alone is enough to make you hesitate.
“I don’t know,” you say, slower now. “I’m not exactly good at this. And—”
You gesture vaguely, helplessly.
“—I probably shouldn’t.”
Nesim watches you with open amusement.
“You’re thinking too hard,” she says.
Ri’nela, on the other hand, brightens immediately.
“Oh, you have to,” she says, earnest and warm all at once. “Just one round. For the experience.”
“I really shouldn’t—”
“Tamptey,” Ri’nela interrupts gently, smiling. “When was the last time you did something just because it was fun?”
That… lands.
You glance between the two of them, then back toward the fire once more.
Finally, you sigh.
“…One round,” you concede. “And then I’m done.”
Nesim’s smile sharpens.
“Perfect.”
She lifts two fingers, signaling someone across the circle.
A moment later, a Zeswa steps in carrying a wide clay jar, heavy enough that it sloshes when it’s set down between you. The smell alone is stronger than anything you’ve had so far—sweet and sharp and unmistakably dangerous.
A few people drift closer, sensing what’s about to happen.
“Rules are simple,” the Zeswa says, already pouring. “One drink per round. No water. No switching cups. First one to give up loses.”
Ri’nela peers into her cup with immediate suspicion.
“That is too much,” she says, solemn.
“That’s the point,” Nesim replies easily.
Someone nearby starts counting.
You lift your cup, hesitate for half a heartbeat—then drink. It burns.
Not painfully. Just enough to make your eyes water and your chest warm as it goes down.
Around you, cups lower one by one. No one falls over. No one coughs No one gives up.
Ri’nela even manages a proud little nod, clearly pleased with herself.
Nesim studies you, head tilted.
“Hm.”
Then she smiles.
“Already thinking of quitting?” she asks lightly. “Even Ri’nela can handle more than you—and I can see she’s already had plenty.”
It’s not cruel. Just sharp enough to land.
Something warm and stubborn flickers in your chest—not anger, just that familiar, dangerous spark of pride.
You set your cup down with deliberate care and look back at her.
“Alright,” you say, a slow smile tugging at your mouth.
“Then let’s do this properly.”
A ripple of laughter moves through the small crowd.
The Zeswa with the jar pours again. This time, no one jokes. Cups are heavier now. The smell stronger. The liquid thicker as it settles.
Someone starts counting. You drink. Slower this time.
The warmth hits faster, spreading through your chest and down your arms, a dull, pleasant weight settling behind your eyes.
Around you, the reactions come quicker. One man coughs hard and immediately waves his cup away.
“Nope,” he announces hoarsely. “I’m done.”
Laughter breaks out as he stumbles back into the crowd. Another Zeswa grimaces, makes it halfway through the cup, then gives up with a dramatic groan.
And then—
Ri’nela lowers her cup very carefully. She blinks once. Twice.
“That,” she says with absolute calm, “is my limit.”
She sets the cup down like it might explode.
Nesim grins at her. “Already?”
“I am a Tsahìk,” Ri’nela repeats solemnly. “And I am far too important to die here.’’
The circle laughs, parting easily as she steps out, still dignified, if a little unsteady.
A few others follow her, shaking their heads and surrendering without shame.
The circle shrinks. You’re still in it.
Nesim looks at you again, eyes bright.
“Good,” she says. “Now it starts to get interesting.”
The jar comes around again.
By the third round, the circle is already smaller.
The laughter is louder now, a little sloppier. Someone misjudges the cup and spills half of it down their chin, swearing as they give up immediately. Another doesn’t even pretend, taking one sip before shaking their head and stepping back to the cheers of the crowd.
You drink. And this time, you really feel it.
The warmth is heavier now, pooling low in your stomach, blurring the edges of the world just enough that you have to focus to keep your balance steady. The firelight stretches when you blink. Your thoughts line up a second slower than they should.
When you lower your cup, there are only three of you left.
Nesim. A broad-shouldered Zeswa with glassy eyes. And you.
The fourth pour comes.
The Zeswa takes one mouthful—then laughs, loud and helpless, and gives up without even trying to finish.
The crowd cheers as he stumbles out of the circle. And just like that— It’s only you and Nesim.
The noise shifts. Quieter. More focused.
Nesim studies you, clearly impressed.
You sway, just a little. Catch yourself.
And for the first time all night, you really consider stopping.
You could. You could laugh, admit defeat, and go back to the edge of the fire.
Go find So’lek. Curl into his side, warm and dizzy and safe. It wouldn’t be a bad ending.
The thought lingers—sweet, tempting. And then you look at Nesim.
At her easy stance. At the faint, knowing smile she’s been wearing since the beginning.
Something stubborn stirs in your chest
The crowd cheers.
By the fire, So’lek lifts his head.
He’s been only half-aware of the contest until now—of laughter and raised voices and the slow tightening of the circle—but something in the sound shifts his attention fully toward you.
He watches as you take the cup. You don’t hesitate.
You laugh when it burns, wipe your mouth with the back of your hand like it’s nothing, and lift your chin with that familiar, reckless spark in your eyes.
You sway—just a little—then catch yourself easily. So’lek doesn’t move.
He’s always known you were capable. Steady. Harder to unbalance than most.
But as he watches you now, a different thought slips in—dry, uninvited, and entirely practical. He has never actually seen you drunk before. And he has a quiet, sinking suspicion that whatever comes after this is going to be his problem
Beside him, Teylan notices the shift. He follows So’lek’s gaze toward the circle by the fire—and blinks.
You’re laughing now, cup in hand, standing far too confidently for someone several rounds into a Zeswa drinking contest.
Teylan studies you for a moment. Then exhales slowly.
So’lek doesn’t look at him.
“What.”
Teylan hesitates, clearly deciding how honest to be.
He glances at Ri’nela, still sitting nearby and already unsteady— then back at you, who look… far too comfortable.
“I don’t know how she is when she’s drunk,” he admits.
A beat.
“But she’s already more unpredictable than Ri’nela when she’s sober.”
So’lek closes his eyes. Just for a second. Then opens them again, resigned.
“…That is not reassuring.”
Teylan offers him a look of pure sympathy.
“I’m very sorry,” he says sincerely.
A Zeswa passes behind them with a tray of fresh cups. Without looking away from the fire, So’lek reaches out and takes one.
Teylan blinks at him.
“You’re drinking again?”
So’lek downs it in a single, controlled swallow. Then exhales slowly.
“Preparing,” he says flatly.
He sets the empty cup aside and turns his attention back to the circle.
…
Across the fire, you lift your cup again.
The jar comes around one last time. The circle is small now.
Just you. And Nesim.
The noise around you fades into something distant, muted by the heat in your head and the steady thrum of your pulse in your ears. Someone is counting again, slower this time, like they already know how this ends.
Nesim takes her cup without ceremony. She studies you over the rim, eyes bright, amused.
“Still with me?” she asks lightly.
You blink once. Focus.
“Unfortunately,” you say, and lift your own.
The drink hits harder than any of the others. It burns. It lingers.
You swallow carefully, forcing it down with more control than you feel, every instinct in your body protesting the decision you’ve already made. The warmth spreads too fast now, flooding your chest, your limbs, your head.
For a second, the world tilts. Just a fraction. You plant your feet. Breathe.
Across from you, Nesim finishes hers.
She lowers the cup—and pauses.
Blinks once. Twice.
The smile she gives you is slow and rueful.
“Well,” she says, exhaling.
Then she lifts both hands in surrender.
“That’s my limit.”
The words take a second to land. The crowd reacts before you do.
Cheers break out, sudden and loud, hands clapping, voices rising as Nesim steps back out of the circle, laughing at herself.
And just like that— It’s over.
You’re still standing. Barely.
Someone shouts your name. Someone else whoops. The jar is lifted in the air like a trophy. You look down at your empty cup, then up again, slow and disbelieving. You did it.
You sway once—catch yourself—then straighten with what dignity you can salvage. A laugh spills out of you, bright and victorious and completely unguarded
You don’t even have time to process your victory before someone crashes into you.
“TAMTEY!”
Ri’nela nearly knocks you over in her enthusiasm, arms wrapping around you in a fierce, delighted hug.
“You did it,” she laughs breathlessly. “You actually did it!”
“I did,” you agree, a little dazed, a little proud.
She pulls back just long enough to look at you properly, eyes bright, then throws both arms in the air.
“I KNEW it!”
People around you cheer again, someone claps you on the shoulder, and before you can protest, Ri’nela grabs your wrist.
“Come on,” she insists. “We have to celebrate properly.”
You laugh, helpless, as she drags you straight back into the movement near the fire.
The music swells. The heat closes in again. For a while, it’s perfect. You dance. Not carefully. Not gracefully. Just joyfully—laughing too loud, spinning when Ri’nela spins you, jumping when the rhythm demands it. The world is warm and bright and wonderfully unimportant.
The alcohol sloshes unpleasantly every time you land. You ignore it.
Ri’nela, however, does not.
After a few songs, her steps start to falter. She misses a beat. Blinks too long.
When she laughs now, it comes out a little breathless, a little forced.
She presses a hand briefly to her stomach.
“Mm,” she mutters.
You catch it immediately.
“You okay?” you ask, leaning closer.
“Yes,” she says at once.
Then, more honestly, “No.”
She exhales and gives you an apologetic look.
“I think… I should sit.”
Relief flickers through you—because, if you’re being honest, you were just thinking the same thing.
The jumping, the spinning, the heat—It’s all settled in your stomach now, heavy and distinctly uncooperative.
You’re still steady. Still laughing. But you are very ready to stop moving.
“Yeah,” you admit.
You take her hand and steer her gently back toward the edge of the firelight.
“I think I’ve celebrated enough for one lifetime.”
You steer Ri’nela away from the dancers, guiding her carefully through the thinning crowd.
The farther you get from the bonfire, the quieter it becomes.
Music dulls into a distant thrum. Laughter fades to background noise. The air cools.
And that’s when it happens. Not all at once. Just… gradually.
Your steps feel a fraction slower than they should. The ground doesn’t move—but your sense of where it is does.
You blink. Adjust your grip on Ri’nela’s hand.Take another step.
And suddenly, unmistakably, you realize:
Oh.
You are really drunk.
Not the laughing kind. Not the confident kind. The kind where your body is only cooperating out of politeness. The kind where every movement has to be negotiated. The kind that arrives late and with intent.
You slow without meaning to. The world feels… thick. Heavy at the edges. Warm in your head in a way that is no longer charming.
Ri’nela stumbles slightly beside you, and you catch her on instinct— and very nearly lose your own balance in the process.
You recover. Barely.
Your stomach turns, slow and unpleasant, like it’s considering its options.
And with sudden, absolute clarity, you think:
This was a terrible idea.
You glance ahead, toward where you know the others are sitting. You and Ri’nela emerge back into the edge of the firelight, slower than before.
Ri’nela is leaning heavily into your side now. You are doing your best to pretend this is normal. It is not.
By the fire, So’lek sees you the moment you come into view.
He doesn’t move. But he sits a little straighter. Just enough.
Teylan notices the shift—and then his attention goes immediately to Ri’nela.
He’s on his feet before he quite realizes it, stepping toward her.
“Are you alright?” he asks, concerned.
Ri’nela laughs weakly. “Define alright.”
So’lek doesn’t say anything. He’s already looking at you. Not sharply. Just… assessing.
You decide, with sudden and absolute certainty, that you have done your part.
You have:
— won a drinking contes
— danced until your stomach filed a formal complaint
— and successfully returned Ri’nela to her assigned caretake.
Your work here is complete.
You gently disengage Ri’nela from your side and guide her the last step toward Teylan.
“Here,” you say, very reasonably.
Teylan blinks as Ri’nela immediately leans into him instead.
“Why me?” he asks, faintly panicked.
You gesture at yourself. Broadly.
In a way that includes your slightly uneven stance, your delayed reaction time, and the fact that you are very much not standing straight.
“Do I look like I can take care of her right now?” you ask.
He opens his mouth. Closes it again. Looks down at Ri’nela. Sighs.
“…No,” he admits.
He resigns himself to his fate, sliding an arm around Ri’nela and helping her to her feet.
“Come on,” he mutters.
As he starts walking her away toward the tents, you call after him, far too loudly,
“MAKE SURE SHE DOESN’T THROW UP ON YOU.”
Several people nearby snort.
Teylan freezes mid-step. Very slowly, he turns his head to look at you. The expression on his face is pure, horrified resignation. You grin at him, deeply pleased with yourself. He shakes his head, defeated, and continues walking Ri’nela away.
So’lek is still watching you when you finally turn back toward him.
Now that Ri’nela is gone, now that the responsibility has officially left your hands, the world feels… less cooperative than it did a moment ago.
You stop in front of him and grin.
“Heyyy,” you say, stretching the word just enough to make it obvious.
His mouth twitches.
“There it is,” he murmurs.
He shifts slightly, already making space beside him on the log.
“Sit,” he says calmly.
You squint at the space like it has personally offended you. Then at him.
Then you shake your head once, very decisively.
Sitting suddenly feels like a terrible idea. Not because it is — but because he suggested it.
“No,” you declare.
He lifts a brow.
“No?”
“No,” you repeat, nodding to yourself.
Too warm. Too loud. Too many people.
And a very strong, very drunk need to do the opposite of whatever he just told you.
“I don’t want to sit,” you announce. “I want air.”
You sway just enough to undermine your argument.
Before he can respond, you reach out and take his hand. Not dramatic. Just sure.Like this is the most obvious solution in the world.
You tug once, already turning away from the fire.
“Come on.”
He’s on his feet immediately. Not because you pull hard— but because he was already halfway there in his mind. Because there is no universe in which he lets you wander off alone like this. Not with the night this full.
And your balance this… optimistic. You tug him forward with more enthusiasm than balance.
“Slow,” he says at once, steadying you with a hand at your elbow as you immediately overcorrect your first step.
“I am slow,” you insist, even as you lean slightly into him without quite realizing it.
The farther you get from the bonfire, the quieter it becomes. Music dulls into a distant thrum behind you. Laughter blurs into background noise. The air cools, carrying grass and earth instead of smoke, and you breathe it in like it’s a revelation.
“Better,” you decide solemnly.
So’lek doesn’t disagree.
He keeps his pace matched to yours, hand hovering close enough to catch you if needed.
You don’t stumble— but you sway a little, like the world has decided to move just a fraction slower than expected.
“You’re drunk,” he says calmly.
You hum in agreement.
“Mmm. Yes.”
“That drink hits late.”
You glance up at him, eyes bright and unfocused in that gentle, earnest way.
“You watched me the whole time.”
He doesn’t deny it.
“Someone had to.”
You stop walking suddenly, turning to face him. He halts instantly, attention sharpening. You peer at him like you’re trying to solve something important.
“…You’re very handsome,” you inform him.
His breath hitches before he can stop it. Just once.
“That’s the alcohol talking,” he says, a little too quickly.
You frown, considering.
“No,” you say.
“It just makes me more honest.”
That earns him a soft huff of laughter—quiet, surprised, entirely genuine. He reaches out then, fingers closing around your wrist, grounding without restraint.
“We’re walking,” he says gently. “Not stopping.”
You smile, deeply pleased with yourself, and let him guide you forward again. The camp is distant now, firelight flickering low behind you.
Ahead, the plains stretch open and cool and quiet, stars sharp overhead. You lean a little closer as you walk, not asking, just existing nearer.
And So’lek lets you. Because he brought you out here for the air. And because, drunk or not, he was never going to let you go alone.
…
You don’t walk far. Just far enough that the noise thins to something distant and harmless, the bonfire reduced to a low glow behind you.
The air is cooler here, clean and steady, carrying grass and earth instead of smoke.
So’lek slows first. You feel it in his grip before you hear it.
“That’s enough,” he says quietly, more decision than suggestion.
There’s a fallen log half-hidden in the grass, worn smooth with age. He guides you toward it and sits, long limbs folding with familiar ease, posture relaxed but attentive.
Close enough to the path back. Far enough from the crowd.
You linger on your feet. The breeze brushes against your skin, cool and grounding, and you close your eyes for a second to breathe it in properly.
The night feels wide out here. Open.
You sway just slightly— not enough to fall, just enough to remind you that gravity is a concept you are currently negotiating with.
So’lek watches you without comment.
Alert. Calm. Ready, if needed.
You open your eyes and look back at him. You could sit beside him. You could. The thought exists.
You dismiss it immediately.
Instead, you turn and lower yourself straight down onto the ground between his spread legs, settling back until your shoulders meet the solid line of his thighs with a soft, unceremonious plop—like this is the most obvious place in the world to sit.
So’lek stills. Not in alarm. Not in surprise. Just… processing.
This was not one of the possibilities he had accounted for.
You’re seated on the cool earth now, back resting against the space between his knees and hips, framed there by his legs as he sits on the log above you.
The height difference makes the closeness immediate. Unavoidable.
You shift once, wriggle slightly, and settle with a quiet, satisfied sigh, fitting yourself there like you belong.
Then you tilt your head back just enough to look up at him.
“Hi,” you say, quietly pleased with yourself.
He exhales through his nose, slow and controlled.
“…Comfortable?” he asks.
“Mm-hm.”
His hands hover for half a heartbeat, unsure where to land.
Then, carefully, deliberately, he rests them on his thighs instead of touching you—giving you space even as he accepts the closeness.
He doesn’t speak right away.
For a moment, he simply sits there, still and alert, measuring Drunk. Unpredictable.
He knows that look in your eyes. He knows how quickly this could become something he has to stop.
“You didn’t have to sit there,” he says at last, quietly.
You smile, eyes half-lidded, voice warm and loose.
“I wanted to.”
That… changes things.
Not because it makes it safe. But because it makes it intentional.
He exhales slowly through his nose.
Doesn’t move you. Doesn’t tell you to shift.
He simply adjusts his posture a fraction on the log, grounding himself, letting his presence frame yours— bracing for the moment he might have to say enough.
The breeze moves through the grass around you. The distant music fades in and out, softened by distance and time. For the first time all night, everything feels quiet.
And So’lek stays exactly where he is—legs bracketing you, watchful and steady— not because he’s relaxed, but because he’s ready.
Because if you’re going to rest anywhere like this, it might as well be somewhere safe. With him.
You sit there for a moment, listening. The breeze moves through the grass in soft waves, cool against your skin.
Ahead of you, the festival still burns bright—bonfires glowing, figures moving in loose rhythm, laughter and drums reaching you softened by distance.
Far enough that faces blur and details fade. Close enough that the light still flickers across the plains.
And you remember.
The couples by the fire. The way hands had rested easily, openly. The closeness you’d watched from a careful distance. The quiet, familiar ache that had followed.
You want to be closer. Not urgently. Not restlessly Just… closer.
You shift slightly, testing the space. So’lek doesn’t move. His presence behind you remains steady, solid, unbothered.
You tell yourself it’s fine. You’re far away now. Much farther than before.
Far enough that the fire is just a glow. Far enough that no one could possibly be paying attention to the two of you.
This isn’t really public anymore. Not in any way that matters. And he doesn’t mind closeness when it’s just the two of you. He never has. So…
Surely this is fine. Surely he wouldn’t mind. At least… that makes perfect sense right now
Before you can overthink it, you lean back and rest your head gently against his thigh.
Bare skin. Warm from the firelight, firm beneath your cheek, a sharp contrast to the cool air brushing your face. The contact registers immediately—unavoidable, unmistakable.
So’lek stills. Not because it’s wrong— but because it’s unexpected.
He looks down at you, breath catching just enough to feel it. The weight of your head there. The trust of it.
You shift minutely, settling more comfortably, cheek pressing against his thigh with a quiet, contented sigh.
“There,” you murmur, mostly to yourself.
For a long second, he doesn’t move.
Then his breathing evens out again.
Slow. Measured.
“…You alright?” he asks quietly.
You nod, eyes already drifting half-closed.
“Yeah,” you murmur.
“This is… nice.”
His hands tighten briefly on his thighs—muscle flexing beneath your cheek—an instinct checked before it goes anywhere else.
He doesn’t touch you. Doesn’t pull away either.
Instead, he adjusts his leg just enough to support you better, subtle and careful, like he’s making room without drawing attention to it.
In front of you, the festival carries on—firelight flickering, music drifting, distant laughter threading through the dark.
Here, though, everything feels still.
Minutes pass. Maybe more. Time is a suggestion right now.
You stay where you are, cheek warm against his thigh, breathing slow and even, enjoying the simple fact that nothing is spinning anymore.
And he’s still not doing anything.
No hand in your hair. No touch. Not even an attempt.
You wait.
Patiently, at first. Then… less so.
You shift, a faint huff leaving you.
Slowly, deliberately, you angle your eyes up at him— not turning your head, just giving him the most unimpressed, sideways look you can manage from where you are.
He meets it immediately.
“So’lek,” you mumble.
“Yes?”
You hold the side-eye for another second, brows knitting in slow, drunk accusation.
Then, very plainly:
“Pet me.”
The word hits him harder than it should.
Not because of what it means— but because of how easily you say it
No hesitation. No embarrassment. Just an expectation, delivered like this is the most obvious request in the world.
He blinks.
Once.
Then again.
For a moment, he genuinely has no idea what to say
He’s tired. He’s had more to drink than he should have.
And he is absolutely not used to you giving him orders— especially not ones like that.
His mouth opens. Closes again.
You’re still looking at him with that same unimpressed, sideways stare, clearly waiting for him to fix whatever mistake he’s made.
He exhales slowly through his nose.
Not annoyed.
Just… baffled.
“You can’t just—” he starts, then stops, because he doesn’t actually know how to finish that sentence.
He rubs a hand over his face, eyes briefly closing like he’s bracing himself.
Of all the things he’d prepared himself for tonight— this was not one of them.
He stares at you for another second.
Weighing every possible outcome.
Every possible mistake.
And very clearly deciding that the fastest way out of this situation… is to make you fall asleep.
He exhales, long and slow.
“You’re impossible,” he mutters under his breath
You blink at him, waiting.
Still side-eyeing.
Still offended.
Still very much not moving.
He closes his eyes for half a heartbeat.
Then opens them again.
Fine.
His hand lifts.
Slowly.
Deliberately.
Like he’s approaching a very unpredictable animal.
He hesitates just above your head— one last moment of restraint— then very carefully settles his fingers into your hair.
Light.
Almost nothing.
He moves them in slow, minimal strokes, the kind meant to calm, not to linger.
“This is not happening again,” he murmurs quietly, more to himself than to you.
His only goal now is simple.
Get you calm.
Get you sleepy.
And get you back to your tent before you decide to make any more requests like that.
The effect is immediate.
The moment his fingers settle into your hair, something in you relaxes with a quiet, satisfied little hum.
There.
Correct behavior has been restored.
You don’t say anything.
You don’t need to.
Your eyes drift closed, mouth softening into the faintest, most self-satisfied smile.
Inside your head, a very dangerous conclusion takes shape.
Slowly.
Confidently.
You are winning.
Not in any loud, obvious way.
Just… fundamentally.
The mighty, disciplined, terrifying Dog-tag warrior— undone by a single drunk request and a look.
You would never say it out loud.
But the thought settles warm and triumphant in your chest anyway.
You could get away with anything right now.
Absolutely anything.
For drunk you, the logic is flawless.
You are charming.
You are unstoppable.
And clearly…no one here is immune.
In front of you, the festival carries on—firelight, music, movement—alive and distant all at once.
Here, though, everything feels still.
So’lek stays exactly where he is, gaze lifting back toward the glow ahead, fingers still moving in slow, absent strokes through your hair.
Alert.
Softened.
And with the night open before you and the warmth of him grounding you where you rest, the closeness feels exactly right.
Your gaze drifts.
Not deliberately.
Just… lazily.
From the firelight ahead, to the line of his thigh beneath your cheek, to the subtle shift of muscle when he breathes, to the warmth of bare skin grounding you more than the cool night air ever could.
It’s muscular.
Solid.
Warm.
His.
The thought arrives slowly this time.
Not sudden.
Not sharp.
Just…persistent.
You could bite it.
Not hard. Just a little. Just enough to leave a mark.
Just enough to—you’re not even sure.
You don’t move right away. You just…tilt your head, barely.
The movement is slow. Careless. Entirely unplanned.
Like something guided more by instinct than by thought.
Your lips drift closer. Not touching. Just…hovering.
Close enough that you can feel the heat of his skin.
Close enough that the space between your mouth and his thigh disappears by degrees.
Second by second. Millimeter by millimeter.
Your mouth parts. Slowly. Thoughtlessly.
So’lek notices.
Not when you first think it. But when your head tilts. When your breathing changes.
When the weight of your cheek shifts.
His fingers still in your hair at once. Completely.
“Tamtey,” he says quietly.
Right before your teeth could possibly reach him
You freeze. Completely.
Mouth still open. Head tilted.
So close you can feel the heat of his skin against your breath.
“…Fuck,” you think distantly.
Not out loud.
Just… in the very back of your mind.
You stare straight ahead at the dark. Not at him. Not moving. Still thinking. Still pretending this is something you’re carefully weighing.
Because you tell yourself—you don’t want to.
You really don’t. This is stupid.
Reckless. A terrible idea.
And then the thought follows, quiet and merciless:
Who am I kidding.
Of course you want to.
Not because it means anything. Not because you’re trying to start something.
Just because the impulse is there, loud and undeniable now that you’ve stopped lying to yourself about it.
You’re suddenly very aware of your teeth.
Of how close they are. Of how easy it would be.
And the thought settles, simple and dangerous in your head: You do want to.
Even if you absolutely shouldn’t.
You stay frozen for another second.
Then another.
Long enough for the thought to settle. Long enough for the last, useless trace of hesitation to fade.
So you move. Just a little. Not fast. Not reckless.
Just enough to finally close the last fraction of distance between your mouth and his skin.
And that’s when—his hand comes up.
Fingers settling along your jaw, gentle but certain.
He tilts your head back with controlled ease—not forcing, just guiding.
The top of your head presses back against his abdomen, solid and warm, and suddenly your balance belongs entirely to him.
You look up at him.
Your pupils are blown wide, dark and unfocused, the firelight fracturing softly around the edges of your vision.
Up close like this, he looks devastatingly handsome—features calm, eyes steady, expression caught in that dangerous space between restraint and something sharper.
His thumb shifts. Just slightly.
For a brief, unmistakable moment, his hand slips from your jaw to your throat— resting there, not tightening, not claiming. Simply there.
The contact sends a quiet jolt through you, low and immediate, curling deep in your body before you can think it through.
You feel it settle warm and heavy, breath hitching despite yourself. So does he.
You see it pass across his face—gone almost as quickly as it appears.
A flicker. Recognition. Control snapping firmly back into place.
He releases you at once. His hand drops away from your neck like it was never there, like he never felt it too.
But you don’t move. You keep your head tipped back, resting against him, eyes still on his.
You don’t reach for him. You don’t push. You both know better.
Not like this
Not with drink-softened edges and a night that’s already blurred enough.
Whatever this is—whatever it’s becoming—it deserves clarity. Choice.
A moment neither of you will question afterward.
You blink at him. Once. Very slowly.
School your expression into something wide-eyed and painfully innocent.
“What?” you ask softly.
He doesn’t believe you for a second.
Not the tone. Not the timing. Not the way your mouth is still a little too close to where it shouldn’t be.
His gaze stays steady on yours.
Unamused. Resigned.
“…No biting,” he says quietly
You hold his gaze for a second longer.
Then lift your brows, all wide-eyed innocence.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.
He doesn’t answer. He just lifts one brow. Slowly. Unimpressed.
You lower your head again, resting it back against his thigh. The contact is steadier now, intentional. You breathe, slow and measured, letting the night settle around you again.
You think. Not long. Just enough.
Then you move.
Carefully, you turn where you sit, twisting just enough to face him. You don’t stand. You don’t rush. You end up close to his knees, the grass cool beneath your hands as you look up at him.
So’lek is already watching you.
His expression doesn’t change much—still calm, still composed—but his attention sharpens in that familiar way, like nothing else exists in this moment but you. Firelight traces the lines of his face, catching in his eyes.
For a second, neither of you speaks. Not because there’s nothing to say, but because this feels like one of those moments where saying anything might break it.
You study him, quiet now, the drunken mischief in you settling into something more thoughtful.
He waits. Patient. Watchful. Bracing, just slightly, for whatever you decide to do next.
You hold his gaze.
There’s something thoughtful in the way you look at him now, something quieter than before. Not asking. Not pushing. Just… present.
Your lips part like you might say something.
You don’t.
After a moment, you glance away, then back again, the smallest smile touching your mouth—soft, knowing, restrained.
He studies you for a beat longer.
Long enough to decide something.
Then he exhales slowly, the tension easing out of his shoulders.
“Come here,” he says quietly.
Not an order. Not a pull. Just an invitation.
You hesitate. Only a second.
Then shift closer, obeying without quite realizing you’re doing it, moving into the space between his knees.
His hand comes up immediately. Not to stop you.
Just to settle at the back of your neck, warm and firm, guiding you the last inch forward with infuriating ease.
Controlled. Effortless.
Payback.
You look up at him again, suddenly very aware that the balance of this moment has shifted.
That maybe— just maybe— you’re not the only one allowed to cause trouble tonight.
He doesn’t smile.
But there’s something unmistakably satisfied in his eyes.
You look at his face first—calm and intent, eyes steady on yours.
Up this close, it’s impossible not to notice how little space there is between you now.
The warmth of his hand at the back of your neck.
The solid line of his knees bracketing you.
Without quite meaning to, your gaze drifts.
Just a little.
From his eyes, to his mouth, to the line of his throat, to the broad plane of his chest.
Then lower.
The way he’s seated on the log, legs braced, posture relaxed but unmistakably solid. The quiet span of him around you.
Your eyes dip to his loincloth, to the subtle, unavoidable implication of what’s beneath it.
And the thought that follows is… decidedly not polite.
It’s quick.
Unfiltered.
Warm and sharp and entirely inappropriate for the amount of alcohol still humming in your blood.
Your eyebrow lifts before you can stop it, a faint, betraying reaction to your own imagination.
Oh.
The realization hits just as fast as the thought itself:
he’s looking at you too.
You snap your gaze away at once, schooling your expression like you’ve just remembered yourself. The firelight suddenly seems very interesting. Very safe.
For half a heartbeat, nothing happens.
Then—
So’lek’s mouth curves.
Just a little.
Not a grin. Not anything he’d ever show in front of a crowd. Just the faintest smirk tugging at one corner of his lips, gone almost as soon as it appears—like a reflex he didn’t bother stopping.
He caught it.
The realization lands warm and embarrassing all at once.
When you dare to look back up at him, he’s composed again, expression smooth, eyes steady on yours like nothing happened.
Like he didn’t just see straight through you.
But the smirk lingers in his eyes.
Amused.
Knowing.
You feel heat creep up your neck and huff out a quiet breath, shaking your head slightly like you’re scolding yourself.
He tilts his head a fraction, clearly entertained.
The festival continues in front of you—firelight, movement, distant sound—but the space between you feels charged now, humming with the shared understanding of a thought you never said out loud…
…and the fact that he absolutely noticed anyway.
You risk a glance back up at him.
That’s when you see it.
The smirk is still there—small, restrained—but there’s something warmer beneath it now. Amusement, yes. But also… something gentler. Flattered, in a way he doesn’t quite bother hiding.
Like he hadn’t expected that thought from you.
Like he’s not immune to it.
His eyes soften as they hold yours, the sharp edge of humor easing into something quieter, more intimate. He exhales through his nose, a breath that sounds almost like a huff of laughter he decided to keep to himself.
“So,” he murmurs, low enough that it’s meant only for you, “that’s where your mind went.”
There’s no reproach in it. No warning.
Just acknowledgment.
The warmth creeps up your neck again, but this time it meets something steadier—something grounding—in the way he looks at you. Like he’s not bothered. Like he’s… pleased.
His thumb taps once against the log beneath him, an unconscious tell.
“I’ll take it as a compliment.”
The words are simple, but the way he says them—quiet, controlled, just a little amused—makes your stomach flutter all over again.
He doesn’t move closer.
He doesn’t pull away either.
He just keeps looking at you like that—like the thought didn’t scare him, didn’t offend him, didn’t cross a line so much as brush up against one he’s very deliberately choosing to respect.
And the fact that he’s flattered by it?
That might be the most dangerous part of all.
You see it settle.
Not in anything he says—he doesn’t need to—but in the way his expression stays easy, untroubled. Amused, yes. A little flattered. And importantly… not closed off.
You recognize that look.
It’s the one he gets when he’s decided something quietly and moved on from it.
He accepted it. Not because it was appropriate. Not because it was invited. But because it was you.
Because you’re a little drunk, a little loose around the edges—and because you didn’t act on it. You didn’t reach. You didn’t say anything out loud.
You just… thought it. And thoughts happen.
Especially like this. Especially tonight.
The understanding settles something in you.
The heat of embarrassment fades into something softer, steadier. You don’t feel reprimanded. You don’t feel foolish. If anything, you feel oddly… safe.
Seen, but not judged.
You shift your gaze away again, calmer this time, the corner of your mouth lifting just slightly like you’re acknowledging it privately.
Okay, you think.
Noted.
Moving on.
Life moving on.
And between you, the line holds.
Clear.
Intact.
Whatever passed between you just now doesn’t need to be resolved or explained. It’s already been understood—filed away with everything else the two of you carry quietly between you.
You stay where you are, grounded again.
And So’lek stays exactly as he is—amused, a little flattered, and very deliberately choosing to let that be enough for tonight.
And something in you finally… eases.
The tension you hadn’t realized you were holding loosens in your chest. The heat of embarrassment fades into something softer, heavier.
Tired.
Content.
You let out a quiet sigh.
Not frustrated.
Not disappointed.
Just… done thinking about it.
And without making a decision so much as following an instinct, you lean forward and wrap your arms around him.
So’lek exhales.
He hesitates—just long enough to decide not to stop you.
And without making a decision so much as following an instinct, you lean forward…
It’s slow, measured—the sound of a decision made quietly.
He shifts his weight and eases himself down from the log to the grass, movements careful so he doesn’t dislodge you. When he settles, it’s close—right there with you—bringing himself to your level without breaking the hold you already have on him.
You don’t let go.
Your arms stay wrapped around him, firm and sure, as you follow the movement instinctively. You turn into him fully, head coming to rest against his shoulder, face burying into the warm curve of his neck.
Your breath ghosts against his skin as you settle there, clinging without apology.
He stills for a moment.
Then his arm comes around you, secure and steady, drawing you closer until you’re half-lying against him, tucked neatly into his chest. His shoulder supports your head, his body a solid line behind and beside you, grounding you completely.
You sigh softly, content.
You recognize it for what it is.
Even if it’s private.
Even if it’s just the two of you, away from everyone else— you got what you wanted after all.
The closeness.
The quiet.
The right to rest like this.
So’lek lowers his chin just slightly, breath warm against your hair. He doesn’t speak. He doesn’t need to. His hold is answer enough, firm and patient, letting you stay exactly where you chose.
And so you do.
For a long, quiet while, you stay wrapped up in him like this—face hidden, arms tight, body slowly loosening as the night settles around you.
And wrapped up in him like this—face hidden, arms tight, body relaxed—you don’t feel the need to want anything more.
…
For a while, you simply breathe together.
Then, without lifting your head, you mumble, voice thick with sleep and alcohol,
“…Come sleep with me.”
So’lek stills.
This time, it’s immediate.
Not startled.
Just very, very alert.
He looks down at you, really looks at you now—eyes half-closed, limbs heavy, trust written plainly in the way you’re curled into him like this is the safest place you know.
“Here?” he asks quietly.
You shake your head against his chest, a small, impatient movement. “No. My tent.”
A pause.
Not long.
But careful.
“You mean… to sleep,” he says, deliberately.
Not accusing.
Not assuming.
Just testing the ground.
You frown faintly, as if the clarification itself is exhausting.
“Yes,” you mumble. “Sleep. You’re warm. And I don’t want to walk alone.”
Simple.
Dangerously simple.
His jaw tightens just a fraction.
Not because he doesn’t want to.
Because he understands exactly what you’re asking now.
Not sex.
Not a line crossed.
But something that looks an awful lot like a line from the outside.
“Tamtey,” he says quietly.
You shift, finally lifting your head just enough to look at him, eyes unfocused but earnest.
“Just… stay,” you say. “With me. In my bed.”
There’s no seduction in it.
Just tired honesty.
And that might be the hardest version of the request to refuse.
You cling to him for another second, clearly satisfied with the agreement.
Then you pull back just enough to look up at him.
Your eyes flick briefly to his arms.
Then back to his face.
“…Carry me?” you ask, hopeful and completely unashamed.
So’lek just looks at you.
Flat.
Unmoved.
Entirely unimpressed.
“You can walk fine,” he says.
You blink. “…Rude.”
“You walked out here,” he replies calmly. “You danced. You won a drinking game.”
“That was earlier.”
He lifts a brow. “Five minutes ago.”
You pout at him, clearly offended by both the accuracy and the tone.
“I’m very tired now.”
He watches you for another beat, then shifts his weight and stands, offering you a hand instead.
“Up.”
You stare at the hand like it’s betrayed you.
“…You’re the worst,” you mumble, but you take it anyway.
He pulls you up easily, steadying you when you sway just a little more than you meant to. His grip doesn’t tighten, but he doesn’t let go either, keeping you close enough that you can’t tip over without him noticing.
“You’re doing fine,” he says, dry.
You lean into him immediately, arm looping around his waist like you’re making a point. “See? Basically carried.”
“That’s walking,” he corrects.
You huff, dramatic and tired, and rest your forehead briefly against his shoulder before straightening again.
“If I fall, it’s your fault.”
He snorts quietly. “You won’t.”
And annoyingly… he’s right.
You start toward the camp together at an unhurried pace, his steps matched to yours without comment. His hand stays at your back, light but ready, guiding rather than holding you up.
The festival behind you is nearly done now—fires low, voices sparse and sleepy. Ahead, the horizon has begun to pale just slightly, the promise of dawn threading into the night.
You yawn, long and unguarded, leaning into him again as you walk.
“…You’re staying,” you remind him, just in case.
He doesn’t look down at you when he answers.
“I said I would.”
And somehow, even more than being carried, that’s what makes you feel safe enough to keep going.
The camp is mostly quiet by the time you reach your tent. The last of the fires burn low, voices reduced to murmurs and the occasional laugh drifting on the breeze. So’lek ducks inside after you, careful not to jostle you as the world narrows down to canvas walls and dim, familiar shadows.
You barely make it two steps before you turn back into him again.
“Here,” you mumble, already reaching for him like gravity has decided he’s the only stable thing left.
He hums in acknowledgment and eases you down onto the bedding, following after without hesitation. The space is small, warm, smelling faintly of smoke and fabric and you.
He settles on his side. And the moment he’s there, you curl into him like it’s instinct.
Your arms wrap around his torso. Your head tucks beneath his chin. Your body presses close, seeking every bit of warmth he has to offer. You snuggle in deeper, like you’re trying to melt right through him and disappear there.
“Mm,” you murmur, already half gone.
So’lek adjusts automatically, one arm sliding around your back, the other braced beneath you so you’re fully supported. He shifts just enough to keep you comfortable, to make sure your weight is settled, your breathing easy.
You sigh once, long and content. Then… nothing.
Sleep takes you quickly, decisively, the alcohol finally giving way to exhaustion. Your grip loosens but doesn’t let go, breath evening out against his chest, face warm against his skin.
So’lek stays awake for a while. He listens to your breathing. Counts it without meaning to. His thumb traces slow, absent lines along your back—nothing deliberate, nothing demanding.
Just reassurance. Presence.
His thoughts drift. About the night. About restraint. About how easily you trusted him with this.
Eventually, the tension he’s been holding all evening eases out of him too. His breathing slows, his hand stilling where it rests against your back.
He lets his eyes close.
And wrapped around each other in the quiet of the tent, with dawn waiting patiently beyond the canvas,
sleep takes him as well— soft and unguarded, exactly like the night deserves to end.
Summary: You have fallen in love with the ever stoic and brooding So'lek. So, your friends convince you to court him. You know he would never accept any form of courting except traditional. Anything through interesting artefacts from the RDA, past handmade stuff, all the way to the best harvested resources from your hunts. Anything for him to see you worthy. Does it work though? If so, why did he vanish all of a sudden with no word? Will he come back?
Warnings: none for now, just fluff
Notes: Sorry for the wait, collage, exams and seasonal depression has been kicking my ass, but I managed to write this. I'll try to write more in a timely fashion, but i cant promise anything
Part 1, part 2, part 3 (work in progress...)
If you want to be added to the tag list, or I forgot someone, please comment or dm me <3
And so, the courting began. So’lek showed you how to make special arrows out of spare parts, acrid and sulphur pods. He guided you through hunts, trained with you to be able to shoot in motion, instead of standing around, waiting to be shot. And with every waking moment, you grew closer. So close that you ended up here.
“Would you like to take a quick flight with me?” his deep voice rumbled softly from where he sat beside you next to the fire. The day had been long, filled with hunting and practice, all under his watchful eyes. You were, by all means, exhausted, chasing after sturmbeest all across the forest, but you’d be a fool if you passed up an opportunity to spend time with ever elusive So’lek.
“I’d like that,” you smiled, watching him stand up, his outstretched hand a silent offering of help. You grasped it, feeling his warm callous skin against yours as he hoisted you up. Stumbling slightly, your chest bumped into his with a quiet huff of a laugh, his eyes softening. Without a word, you both turned, his arm finding purchase around your back, hand between your shoulder blades as he guided you where your two ikran snuggled in the grass.
“Wow, I almost feel bad pulling them apart,” you joked, making So’lek huff out another silent laugh. With a quiet ‘don’t worry about them’, he moved towards them. Both of you climbed on the backs of each of your ikran, and with a powerful flap of their wings, you flew up into the cool night air.
The night air felt wonderful. The wind was just the right speed when soaring, just the right temperature to not sweat but not be cold and the moisture enough to make you feel alive. Pandora, as a whole, made you feel alive. No more cramped walls, no stale air that made you chronically lightheaded because of the weird ratio of oxygen and way less carbon dioxide. You learned that with Alma back in TAP days. That humans found the air on Pandora toxic due to high levels of carbon dioxide, as well as hydrogen sulphide. So, in the labs, they had to have their special, more oxygenated air, uncaring about the Na’vi’s discomfort.
But this wasn’t the night to think about TAP. At least not yet. For now, it was just you and So’lek soaring through the night, sky littered with hundreds of thousands of stars blinking down at you both. Easy laughter filled the quiet atmosphere, the happy screeching of your ikran as they bobbed closer and father in a playful game.
It wasn’t until you saw the green peaks of the Rising Spires that you finally touched down. Landing at the highest peak, you watched as So’lek jumped from his ikran, before he made his way over. Without a word, his hand stuck out for you to take. You found his eyes in the dark, giant and yellow like liquid gold, his pupils blown out. His face was clear of the colourful war paint he sometimes wore, the striking, dark blue markings on his forehead ever-present. He even went out of his way to change from that damaged tactical vest hung with his infamous dog tags, to a simple harness with a knife at his chest. Overall, the whole situation felt more intimate than it probably should.
But you just smiled, taking his large hand in yours, allowing him to ease you off your ikran, looking up at him. Without letting go, he stepped away, your hand firmly in his grasp as he led you towards the edge. With one last look back at your ikran, you grinned upon seeing them playfully nip and screech at each other.
“This is lovely,” you grinned at So’lek, swinging your hands as he guided you towards the edge. You both sat down, thighs touching as you sat. The nature was truly breathtaking. The blues and purples of the bioluminescent forest softly gleaming underneath you two, the colours vibrant but not overwhelming. The stars twinkling above you, the giant planet and the two moons adorning the sky like jewels.
“I wish I grew up under these stars instead of the metal ceiling in our shared room. We didn’t even have windows at TAP. All I ever saw above me was the metal ceiling or the support rods of the bunk bed above. Mercer always said Pandora was a vicious land that would devour us the moment we stepped out. And Teylan believed him, but the rest of us…we knew that Pandora was our home, that Mercer didn’t ‘save’ us from the world outside. But he needed us to think that,” your words came out quiet, not daring to look at So’lek, or else the waterfalls would start. “And I wish things were different. I wish they didn’t keep us from what is rightfully ours. This land that made us, while fierce, is ours. And I’ll never forgive him for what he’s taken from us all these years.”
After your confession, you stared out into the dark for a moment before turning your head to catch So’lek’s eyes. You didn’t expect him to be looking straight at you, you thought he’d look off into the distance like you. Instead, he held your teary gaze with intent. “Mercer and the RDA had no right to strip you of what you are. But you, Sarentu, are more powerful thank you think. All of you. Being able to push through what happened to you, able to rise from the ashes and become a powerful, young Na’vi like yourselves is no easy feat. And it’s all a testament to your stubborn clan. Their easy adaptability is what made you able to rise up.”
His words shook something in you. Your heart sat heavy in your chest, his words filling the hollow feel in your ribs. His hand never left yours, only tightened now, bringing you back to reality. “Keep yourself safe, Sarentu. You are the future of your clan.”
At that, silence stretched between you. So’lek pretty much knew the basics of what happened to you from Ri’nela, chunks of denial from Alma and always complaining Nor. But rarely from you.
“I was a hunter in the Trr’ong clan before the war. A good one. My father was a proud man, and my mother was a weaver. When the war broke out and Toruk Makto showed up, my mother begged me not to go, but I went anyways. I followed my mentor and we fought fiercely. In the end the war was in our favour, with Eywa herself stepping in. My clan, however, was not spared,” he opened up after a long, comfortable silence. Your head turned, looking to see if he was watching you. This time it was him who was looking off into the distance. You didn’t say anything, words stuck in your throat, but even then, you were aware that he was going to continue, words for you unnecessary.
“I was 25 years old when I was left alone. Stragglers from my clan scattered into surrounding clans, never to be seen again. I sought out Eywa to guide me, and she showed me a man. The founder of our clan, like you’ve seen yours when you touched the Tarsyu flower with your friends. And he urged me to go into the world, not to wallow in despair, but become something. In my travels I’ve stayed with many clans, each teaching me something about myself and the world. Anurai clan and their craftmanship, Tipani clan and their war gear and sighting styles or Tawkami clan and their knowledge. They all taught me something, things I’m now teaching you. Herbology, fighting style, resourcefulness,” he explained carefully, nodding his head to himself before slightly turning it, catching your eye in the corner of his.
“I was captured by the RDA when I journeyed through this very forest, after I took down one of their helicopters. It was then that I met Alex…yes, our Alex…And he helped me out of my cell. And we took out the base, killing everyone inside. I took their dog tags…that’s how it started. And after that he led me to the Resistance, where I joined them, taught the poor scientists how to fight, speak our language and later on, I went to help Alma retrieve you guys from the TAP base…that’s…you now know everything. No more secrets,” he finished his story, his head finally turning to look at you, his eyes almost expectant while his face stayed blank.
You couldn’t help but smile softly. You knew So’lek was a private person. It was rare for anyone to know his whole story. He wasn’t one to open up easily. And that’s why this felt so much more meaningful. Taking you away, taking you on a joy flight to the spires, showing you the beauty of the Pandoran night and then opening up. You wanted to cry, scream, laugh and jump all at the same time, overwhelmed by all the emotions coursing through your veins.
“Thank you, So’lek…for opening up to me. I know you like your privacy…that’s why it means a lot to me,” you gave a wry smile, squeezing his large hand before he intertwined your fingers, nodding his head with a soft smile of his own. “No problem, sevin,” he hummed back.
Yet another confirmation of your growing infatuation with the beautiful man next to you. And on that sweet note, the night continued easy. Laying in the grass, him pointing out the stars, hushed conversations and the distant screech or your ikran.
“There are two new sites, I was going to go there, and I’d like it if you could take the other one. It’s west of here in the Shadow Wood. Just south of the Tangled Stream. One is a Horizontal miner and the other is a Gas extraction plant. Big sites. It would be great if you could help,” So’lek said, catching you just as you skipped down the stairs from the sleeping quarters down to ask about any new tasks. You nodded slowly, staring at his face as cogs turned in your head. If you’d come, you’d get an excuse to spend time with him on the way, you’d show him what new things you’ve learned, and you could find some RDA artefacts to give him as a courting gift. It was the perfect plan, and it wasn’t even you who came up with it.
“Sure! That sounds great!” you chirped excitedly, watching him smile and walk past with a mumble of ‘I’ll wait outside for you’. Your eyes found Ri’nela across the room, giving you a knowing smile and nod. She knew of your escapade with So’lek from the previous night, mostly because you yapped her ear off after you returned. And just as you turned, Priya jumped at you.
“HI GIRL!” the human squealed as she looked around before she motioned for you to bend down to her height. “Is it true you finally want to date So’lek? I overheard you and Ri’nela gossiping yesterday. Sorry, not sorry! Hehe! I think that’s really super cute! You should absolutely go for it, ohmigosh! He wants you as well so bad! Like, you can absolutely see it! Dude is absolutely ready to devour you! Go for it, girlie pop. If you ever need anything or you just want to vent or gossip, I’m here. Whenever!” Her wide excited grin almost blinded you. You wanted to keep this courting journey relatively secret, but Priya knowing was the least of your concerns. After all, she was probably the closest human to your heart. Sure, Alex was nice, Raj okay, Anqa was fun, you weren’t sure if Alma counted as a human or Na’vi, probably neither, but Priya was your favourite. She matched your energy, your humour and awkwardness. You two were like two sides of the same coin. One human, one Na’vi.
You grinned at her back, nodding your head before rushing after So’lek. You grabbed your bow and quiver, attaching it to the back of your silk loincloth, gift from Nefika after she insulted your Resistance given loincloth and tactical vest. As the airlock opened, So’lek was already outside, tying a saddle to his ikran Iley, while your Katir sat patiently next to them, already prepped. It was a small gesture of prepping your ikran as well, but to you it screamed 'I want you’. His war paint was back, orange and green blooming over the rich blue of his skin. The simple leather harness exchanged for his usual tactical vest. The metal on the front scratched up and colourful metal tags hanging over them like badges of honour.
“Someone was bored,” you grinned at him, approaching your mount, humming as she pressed her massive face into your hands for pats.
“Just wanted to make sure we were prepared,” he hummed, turning away, but not before your delusional mind made up the purple flush on his cheeks, the twitch of his ear and a slash of his tail. You really wish it implied what you hope. The gentle, subtle courting of the Na’vi. Small acts of service to make one’s life easier was common, but probably not what So’lek was attempting to do. But a girl can dream, right?
“Let’s go, Sarentu. We want to clear them out as soon as possible. The flight itself will take at least an hour,” So’lek grumbled, looking over his shoulder at you one last time before climbing on his ikran’s back. “Last one there hunts dinner.” Your mouth fell open at his words, staring as a teasing smile stretched on his lips just as he took off into the air. You remember well the same words you told him when making your way home from the Rising Spires escapade. Jumping off the edge, letting Katir catch you and then racing back to the HQ as fast as you could. In the end he lost and had to hunt for a hexapede the next evening. Seems this time he had no intention of doing so again.
“Oh, hell no!” you laughed heartily, using the human term of ‘hell’ that you picked up during your days in TAP. Hell was no concept for you, given Eywa is all loving and all is Eywa. But that didn’t matter when it came to cool words. So, with that you jumped on the back of your ikran, your kurus connecting in a quick flash before you were both soaring into the clear blue sky.
It didn’t take long for you to catch up. You were aware that after his first bond, he tried to not push his ikran into too extreme situations unless necessary. Allowing him to take it easy. That’s why it was so easy to catch up. Your ikran mirrored the excitable temperament you view in yourself, pushing herself and rushing into everything with you on her back.
“Woohoo! Come on, Katir! Leave these bums in the dust!” you screamed over the wind, through your tsaheylu feeling Katir’s wing brush Iley’s when passing, your eyes finding So’lek’s surprised face before a small competitive look glazed over the liquid gold of his eyes. You could hear him gently ushering his ikran to catch up, but even with that he was no match.
You could see the hometree towering over the forest in the distance, bonded ikran of the Aranahe circling the top before sitting into the heavy branches of the tree. Under you, the rivers rushed far below, calls of near by animals barely audible over the wind in your ears. Your eyes found the crashes RDA sites under you, a drill you’ve taken down days prior, already blooming with Eywa’s flora, and a larger outpost you’ve taken on upon the request of the locals for being too close to the hometree. It wasn’t difficult that one. You’ve long learned the power of human ignorance when picking them off one by one, always behind the shroud of objects in their view and true aim to the weak spots of their stupid AMP suits. They always thought they were invincible, but one shot to the exhaust on their backs and it was all over. Even better, since your arrows are silent like the night.
It didn’t take long for the floating mountains to come into your viewpoint. They were always just there, in the background, looming proudly over the whole of Kinglor forest, but now they were close. You could feel the water spraying at your skin, the swarms of insect buzzing around the greenery of the rocks. And just beyond the floating rubble sat the two eye sores, just there, hiding in the withered, polluted life of Pandora. The sickly orange-brown hue of the area, that must’ve previously boomed with life, made you almost want to cry. Cry and scream. You didn’t know this land before TAP, but your heart still ached for what those sky demons have done to a land so pure.
“Which one do you want?” So’lek called out over the wind, urging his bonded to fly closer to scream less. His eyes found yours momentarily before you looked off, comparing the two outposts. “I’ll take that one!” you screamed back, pointing at the similarly sized outpost more west, closer to the river. You watched him nod before he veered off. You watched him guide Iley downwards, his braided hair flying behind like it was paid to make him look powerful. You could faintly make out the large scars on his back under the war paint, sweat and tactical vest. If you didn’t want to fly after him and take a bite, you weren’t sure what else you could possibly want. But this was not the time for a dirty mind. This was time to focus and rip that filthy cement hellhole to shreds.
You and Katir touched down close to the plant, worried about being shot at, just like when you accidentally passed the absolutely massive Laser ore processor up north by the cliffsides. You remembered So’lek very explicitly telling you to steer clear if you value your life, and you tried, but apparently to the RDA you were still too close, and missiles were clearly the correct reaction. Note the sarcasm when you thought that in hindsight. So that night you were knocked into the Black basin and Katir was sulking until you bribed her with a piece of lean nantang meat. And since then, you steered clear of large outposts in fear of being shot down, but this time with no water to save you.
“That’s the Horizontal miner Charlie. The name pretty much explains what it does. Just three steps and its out of service. Go into the control room and rip into the control panel. Then, stop the cooling feed, just turn the wheel like usual. And then last but not least, shut down the grinders. The switch is in that building way back. Good luck, girl. Just call me up if you need me.” You smiled absentmindedly at Priya’s sweet, cheery voice. She was always so full of energy, you truly think you found a soulmate in her. But if she’s on the comms with you, then that means that poor So’lek received Teylan. And while Teylan is a very knowledgeable guide, he’s too knowledgeable. And he will tell you ever tiny fun fact he can think of. Entertaining, but painfully hindering during a high-risk mission. But you also knew So’lek has a softer heart for him and would tell him off gently.
So, with that you ventured in, climbing the tall wall carefully, taking out the defenceless humans first, before carefully picking off the lumbering AMP suits. Some with perfectly aimed arrows, some with haphazardly placed bombs and some by hand. It didn’t take long for the control room to be wrecked and the water pump to be closed off. All that was left were two AMP suits in that one building and that one switch. You were crouched down, heavy bow drawn tight, aimed perfectly at the exhaust of the towering hunk of metal, just to breathe out and fire.
Except right when you were about to do that, the radio on your shoulder grumbled to life with So’lek’s voice. “I’m finished here. I’ll head back to the HQ now, maybe hunt something for dinner on the way. Take care.” You gasped, the arrow on the string slipping out of your hand, barely swishing past the AMP suit that whirled around in your direction, the arrow hitting a wall behind it and cluttering quietly to the ground. You dove down the stairs, sliding into the dark corner under the metal stairs. “What was that?” the man in the suit called out as he stared where you were. You held your breath, focusing your senses to try and hear him, feel him through the metal. It took several minutes and finally hearing his footsteps to finally crawl out and try again. When you get home, you’ve got couple firm words to say to somebody. Probable Priya or Teylan for keeping your radio so loud.
In the end it took two simple shots to the vulnerable exhaust in both the AMP suits, yanking down the lever and ducking into the armoury to hide from the explosions. You watched with a grin as the tall building exploded, a giant hole carved into its side. Turning around, you were greeted with the usual treasures. Keeping quiet had its perks. Like not giving the humans time to evacuate in advance and leaving everything behind. Opening the boxed you found everything from more guns, some shin guards that would definitely be too small on you, made with human legs in mind. Some pare parts you could use for anything, notes about the operation and some other useless junk.
But you could feel the grin stretch on your lips when your eyes fell on the computer in the centre of the room. Exactly what you were looking for. You knew So’lek would kill for the duty roster you could pull out of that machine. You stalked towards the computer, your fingers finding the flash drive clasped to your silk loincloth, sliding it into the port before you started to tap away at the flat glass that held the holographic keyboard. Moments later, you yanked out the flash drive with the names and stations downloaded, before you were off to fly back home.
You’ve given So’lek this flash drive at least 3 other times before, but this was different. Because this was the next step of your courting ritual. Subtle gift giving. Gifts that show you listen. That’s what Nor said to do. You already started step one, which was opening up to him. Letting him hear your pain, while he let you in on his. Now it was onto giving. Thinking back, you were pretty much gave him your presence and subtle love actions like brushing against him, searching for him in the crowd or sitting next to him at dinners.
So, he basically already knew you were in love with him! This is going to be easy. You snorted to yourself as you walked through the HQ airlock, setting your bow and quiver down by the wall before approaching the small alcove where So’lek was restringing his bow.
“Hey, So’lek!” you called with a grin, skipping over, hands clutching the flash drive behind your back. His head raised, yellow eyes peering over his eyelashes as a small smile graced his weary features. “Hello, Sarentu. I’m sorry I didn’t wait for you back there. I thought it would be more useful if I’d go back to the HQ and make dinner. Theres sturmbeest roasting with nectar from the Great roots. How did the mission go for you?” he asked gently, finally managing to restring the bow and lean back to examine his work. His tactical vest was still on, but you guessed he’d take it off before dinner like he started doing lately.
“It was okay. Went fine until it didn’t,” you joked, making his head snap up in alarm, eyeing you frantically for injuries but finding none. You had to supress a smile before continuing. “I’m not injured. Certain someone just called through my obnoxiously loud radio just as I was about to take down an AMP. But it’s fine. He didn’t see me. Ill just go have couple words after this with the two amazing technics on site.” You grinned, watching his ears swivel back, apologetic look on his face. “I apologise, sevin. I wasn’t aware you were near the enemy. Will do better next time.” You had a hard time to not melt over his apology. He was too sweet for your good.
“Nah, don’t worry about it. I like when you give me updates and besides, I’m fine, see? And! I got you a little something something.” You grinned as you revealed the flash drive in your palm. His eyebrow muscles moved up as his face morphed back into the smile that momentarily vanished before. “Thank you. You know how much this means to me.” He hummed, taking the flash drive from your palm and held it to his chest, nodding in thanks. You beamed back before bouncing off to tell off Priya and Teylan for making your radio so loud. But for today, mission of courting So’lek accomplished! He absolutely most definitely understood that you want him really bad from a gift you’ve been giving him before you even decided to court him! Hell to the yes, baby!
summary: now returned home, so'lek has become so distant he has disappeared. who was he to abandon you when you could not run to find him?
contents: solek x fem!aranahereader, angst, fighting, injury, mild kissing, sad times
notes: yay!! i wrote the next part. i was conflicted making this the last part but there is something i so desperately want to add (perhaps from the ashes) but i am scared to ruin the pacing so it is gonna be in the next part. (and if y'all dont want some good ole angst i won't ruin the story for y'all)
masterlist / previous part / next part
Hometree rose beyond the distance, its large leafy silhouette beginning to reveal itself in the distance. Its roots curled into the forest floor, wrapped in bioluminescent vines that moved with the people. Soon, the sounds of hometree reach your ears, the calls of your people, the rustle of the leaves, the fires crackling.
You wanted to feel a relief.
Yet your body was agonizingly heavy.
A woven mat looped between two thick logs waited at the entrance, worked into a makeshift stretcher. You had been cradled into So’lek’s chest for the entirety of the long trip back. Your fingers clenched to his vest, unable to trust your own body anymore.
You couldn’t find comfort in that time though. Not when So’lek’s body was as rigid as stone, his muscles wound so tight you were certain they would snap.
Eetu and So’lek lowered you onto the cot with painstaking care. As if the air itself may hurt you if the wind was too harsh. Eetu murmured soft reassurances, but they barely reached you. Everything was quiet compared to the aching pain that radiated through your leg, up from your ankle and deep into your hip. It anchored so deep into your bones you feared it had decided to live there permanently.
So’lek was close by the entire time.
His hands lingered too long on your shoulder as you were shifted towards the healer’s circle. His presence hovered as you were lowered to the ground, crouching beside you close enough you could feel the heat radiating off him.
Yet he barely looked your way.
He only spoke when he spoken to.
Etuwa’s hands grazed across your bandages, assessing the ways the Zeswa’s work. “She cannot bear weight,” She spoke softly. “Not for some time.”
“I know.” So’lek replied. His voice controlled, even.
Etuwa glanced up at him, her expression tightening. “She will heal here. She is safe here.”
Safe.
The words felt hollow. Meaningless.
You stared up towards the colourful drapes above you, light filtering through them in soft, shifting hues. The glow should have made you feel peace. Instead, it did nothing to ease the tightening knot in your stomach
So’lek shifted beside you, his arm grazing you just enough to make you shiver.
“She will need assistance.” Etuwa continued. “Constantly, and I cannot promise I will be here at all hours.”
“I will make arrangements.” He spoke.
You slowly turned your head towards him. Just enough to see his figure in the corner of your eye. He stood stiff and unmoving, hands clasped tightly in front of him, gaze facing anywhere but you.
He never looked at you.
It stung more than you wanted to admit.
“You are speaking as if I am not here.” You murmured. Your voice came out gruff and coarse. The winds drying your throat.
Etuwa startled slightly, she hadn’t realised you were awake. “Ah I apologise.” She stood up wiping her knees. “I will return soon with fresh herbs.”
The space cleared quickly as she left. A daunting silence that clouded the room. Once again it was just the two of you.
So’lek shifted, adjusting the mat beneath you, smoothing out creases that didn’t matter. He arranged your belongings in your reach with meticulous care. Every movement he made was precise and thoughtful.
Yet he was so distant.
“Thankyou.” You mumbled quietly.
So’lek paused briefly, and for a tortuously brief moment you thought he might finally look at you. Instead, he simply nodded. “Rest now.”
He turned after, moving toward the exit of the healer’s circle. Still no glance. No soft reassurances. No lingering glances. Just his broad silhouette walking away.
Walking away from you.
As if staying had become too much.
Your mouth twisted into a pained frown as the confusion and heartbreak began blooming in your chest.
He paused for just a second in the doorway, his hands slightly trembling. For just a heartbeat you thought he’d turn back.
Then the curtain fell closed with a final sound.
Your eyes stayed fixed on the curtain long after he was gone. A creeping deluded desperation gnawing inside of you.
The silence and solitary felt suffocating as you heard the faint sounds of hometree moving around you. But you remained anchored to the mat, unable to do anything but lay there and listen.
Thoughts ran through your head.
He’ll be back later.
He is just tired.
He wouldn’t just leave like that.
They clouded your consciousness. Swarming your brain to the point a dull headache churned inside your skull. It started to settle in that you were now finally home. Those six weeks stuck with the Zeswa now becoming a memory.
And yet, you couldn’t shake the feeling that nothing had truly changed but where you were now forced to lie.
Time moved strangely. The world moved around you yet you felt as if you were frozen in place.
Hours and minutes bled into each other until the difference between day and night blurred. Light shifted through the woven drapes, but you were never bothered to open your eyes. All you could do was sleep. Only awake for when Etuwa or Eetu came by to aid you.
You were grateful but you couldn’t help but let your thoughts stray to So’lek.
He had not returned.
Etuwa came and went, it was the only way you grasped onto fleeting time. She worked gently, her hands firm and careful replacing the herbs and bandages that seemed to fuse into your skin.
“He will being fresh water later.” She said adjusting the mat below you, fluffing the soft pillow below your head.
“So’lek?” You asked, naively hopeful.
Etuwa frowned slightly shaking her head. “No, Eetu shall come.”
You let out a sigh nodding. You were grateful for your people’s support, however you were unable to shake off the lingering blooms of disappointment within you.
Eetu came by just as dusk was approaching. A bright smile on his face, a carved cup on his hands.
He crouched beside you his expression warm. “Did you sleep well?”
“Not particularly.” You admitted.
His expression faltered for just a moment. “Ah…” He set the water beside you. “Good sleep will come.”
You huffed, facing your head towards the ceiling. “It is hard to sleep when you are…displaced.”
Eetu tilted his head, a hand coming to rest on your shoulder. “It is hard to be home again. Especially when you return changed.”
The words were heavy
Changed.
You glanced down at your leg. Its ugliness concealed in layers of thick leaf bandages and bindings that began to feel more like restraint than protection.
“Have you seen So’lek recently?” you asked trying to move the conversation along.
Eetu hesitated for a brief moment.
“I saw him when he brought you home.” He said slowly. “He spoke with Etuwa, he said he had matters to attend to.”
Your heart sank, inhaling a deep breath. “Matters.”
“Yes.” He shrugged. “The forest does not simply pause because one of us is injured.”
You exhaled a shattered sigh. Trying to put on an understanding face as if the sentence didn’t twist something deep inside you. “Of course.” You murmured. “He has many duties.”
Eetu stayed still for a moment. His eyes studying your expression. “He carries things heavily.” He said, “Heavier than most.”
You didn’t respond.
Because somewhere within you, you hoped you were something he carried.
A couple nights later a realization settled in you uncomfortably deep.
What if So’lek was only avoiding you? You could’ve sworn you heard his voice outside. Low and controlled. Speaking with Eetu or Etuwa. You were certain it was his voice but no one ever mentioned that he had been visiting.
You were beginning to believe you were going crazy. Catching his cadence in breeze, your body responding before your mind could rationalize what you were hearing. Your breath hitching, heart lifting in anticipation that he would waltz through the curtains and come see you.
As the light dimmed beginning another night, you caught yourself staring into the faint glow of the fire in the other side of the room. Your leg throbbed, but the pain did not subdue the ache in your heart.
You had begun to wonder if you were imagining him entirely.
The way he looked at you.
The way his hands lingered. His touch soft and careful.
Maybe he never thought of you that way. It was just an obligation. Just guilt.
His words stuck with you.
“Until I can get you back home safely. I will be here.”
And now, you were home. Surrounded by the safety and support of your own people. Perhaps his duty to you had finished.
The thought settled in your stomach like stones.
Etuwa had you sat up enough in the healer’s tent, washing your body with a woven rag and a bucket of water. You told her that you were able to do it by yourself. And yet every movement sent flaring pain through your leg, sweat beading along your spine. But you refused to make your troubles heard.
You were tired of being fragile.
As Etuwa wiped away your sweat she spoke casually. Filling the silence with small observations. What has been happening outside your small, secluded part of hometree.
“So’lek came by. He seemed restless.” She mentioned absently.
Your heart jumped at the mention of his name. “So’lek?”
“Yes” Etuwa hummed, her attention moving to applying a green paste to your wound. “He has been lingering but never staying long. He is helping the Sarentu find their way within Hometree.”
“He has been visiting?” Your fingers curl into the mat below you.
“Occasionally.” Etuwa glances up at you, something wary flickering across her features. “And not for long. Never longer than it takes to eat a meal.” She corrected gently. “He makes sure you are tended to. He brought me these herbs here.” She gestured towards the paste on your leg.
“But he does not come.” You whispered, shuddering at the breeze hitting your damp skin.
Etuwa didn’t deny it. “I think So’lek believes distance is a kindness.” She says after a beat of silence. “Sometimes even the toughest of warriors struggle with battles from the heart.”
You let out a humourless laugh. “I am not a battle he needs to fight.”
Etuwa let a hand rest on your shoulder as she rises. “You are home and surrounded by love.” She speaks. “Do not let distance convince you otherwise.”
But the distance had fangs.
And they were beginning to sink in.
By the third week back home, you stopped listening for him.
It wasn’t consciously. Your body still reacted to certain sounds. Footsteps that were too heavy, voices too low. But your mind did not follow. It was easier that way. So’lek had done his duty. Carried his guilt away with him.
Etuwa no longer mentioned his name, neither did Eetu.
And painfully, you let yourself believe that your time with the Dog-tag warrior had come to and end.
Healing was slow and predictable. A routine engraved into the threads of your day. Etuwa would change your bandages, tested your strength, hands guiding you to slowly move your leg once again.
You had begun to learn the limits of your body. Though it was tiring and painful. It was progress.
You were sitting upright rested against a carved piece of wood when Eetu walked into the healer’s circle. He carried a bundle of small cloths and some fruit, a smile forming on his face as he realized you were awake.
“You look stronger today.” He spoke.
“Do I?” you ask with a small smile.
He nodded crouching down to sit with you. “Mhm. Slowly but surely. You will be walking again I know it.”
Your face warmed as the comment passed you. Your gaze drifting to the curtain. Life beyond the healer’s circle felt so distant. Like life outside was simply a spectacle, unable to participate. But as the days went by you were eager to escape your den. To reach outside, to go back to normal.
“So’lek will be relieved to hear it.” Eetu said after following your gaze.
You blinked. “What?”
Eetu paused, confusion etching on his face. “That you are improving? He will be happy to hear it.”
Your heart suddenly lurched out of your chest, thrashing against your ribcage. “You’ve…seen him?”
Eetu hesitated, clearing his throat. “Yes…he was here this morning.”
Your breath caught for a moment. “Here? At Hometree?”
Eetu nodded. A slight frown forming on his face. “He spoke with Etuwa, brought her some more herbs. Strong ones…and many of them.”
It felt like the room was spinning, words jumbling and swarming you. “He was here?” You repeated faintly.
Eetu studied your expression, assuming the words he had said had made your stomach twist. “He comes often.”
Often.
The word rang in your head, loud, buzzing and unforgiving.
“He hasn’t.” You shake your head. “No…because he hasn’t seen me.”
Eetu’s shifted uncomfortably in his place. Realization dawned on him slowly. “Oh.”
The silence after was thick and suffocating. Full of words neither of you knew how to say.
“You thought…” He paused picking his words carefully. “That he had not returned.”
“Yes.” The words were tight and sharp. Your tongue snapping like a whip. “Because no one had mentioned anything. Because I haven’t seen him in weeks.”
Eetu lets out a heavy exhale. “I am sorry Ma eylan.”
“So, he comes,” you whisper, fingers curling into the mat below you. “Sees everyone else…but me?”
Eetu didn’t deny it. Which ached more.
Something hot started to burn behind your eyes. “Did he think I wouldn’t notice his absence?” Your voice trembled. “That I wouldn’t felt it?”
Eetu reached out, resting a soothing hand on your shoulder. “I think So’lek believes he is doing the right thing. That you did not want him to mull around you any longer.”
Those words hit hard. Those words are ones you had spewed at him just days before you both left the Upper Plains. The words that hit him right before he said he would be there for you until you got home.
“He is wrong.” You say harshly. “Because this…this hurts more.” Your chest was tighter, too full. “I took his presence for granted it seems. Even his sorrows still filled this empty void.” You gestured to the room around you.
“I shall talk to him.” Eetu says gently taking your hands. “Come, we will try standing again. Healing must prevail even with its barriers.”
You let out a sigh letting Eetu grasp your hands as he hauled you up. Your healthy leg doing its most to aid you up. The pain radiated through your other leg as you felt the blood rush down.
You stood weakly, trembling in his hands but you were still standing. Regaining back the normalcy in your life you had begun to crave. And yet, with all of your milestones your mind still lingered.
What would a normal life be worth if you had to live without him? Had these weeks made you weak? A woman susceptible to hopeless romance only to be the victim of heartbreak.
That while your entire life stood still in this small room. The man you craved most to bring you out lacked the courage to enter it.
You were laying on your mat, eyes heavy with sleep. Your days that were filled with mundane nothingness still managed to tire you out. Pain still radiated through your body but it started to dim. Eetu had even managed to aid you in walking two steps earlier today.
You thought that was why you were so tired. And it plagued you. Two steps. A motion you took for granted, if you could go back in time before your injury you would never stop running.
As the silence of the night started to creep into hometree you heard an unfamiliar rustle behind you.
Your ears pricked up as you felt the sudden shift in the air. Your chest tightening instinctively, your hands bracing beside you. You heard footsteps. Heavy and familiar.
You didn’t have to look to know.
“So’lek?”
His name felt almost foreign in your mouth, you had not uttered it in so long.
“Yes.” His voice was soft, slightly hoarse as he tried to lower his tone.
Your breath hitched, hands gripping onto the mat despite your efforts to stay still. Your eyes fixed themselves on the shelves and jars in front of you.
For weeks you had trained yourself to not expect him. To disallow any hope, you had of him returning. But now you felt your body immediately betray you with one whisper from his tongue.
Silence stretched, you had not found the courage to turn around yet, but you could feel his presence looming closer. His shadow from the warm fire casting over your body.
After another beat of silence you turned to face him. And the room became unfathomably loud. He had barely breached the entrance. His hands clasped together behind his back, his gaze flickered from your small form to the room surrounding you.
“You have been busy.” Your voice was bitter, sharp and ready to stab.
“Yes…I have been with the Sarentu.” He muttered softly, walking further into the room. The curtain falling behind him, sealing your privacy.
“Ah...how are they?” Your words conveyed little care. Your tongue trying its best to twist the small talk into something meaningful.
“Good.” He spoke. His body was full of tension. Threads woven so tight, one movement he would snap. His muscles were stiff, everything still except his mouth.
Awkward silence filled the room once again. Its presence thick and muggy. Suffocating the space between you. No glances were shared, no words. Just slow, drawn out quiet.
So’lek cleared his throat pointing his gaze back to you. “Eetu said you were standing.”
You hummed. “Only with help.”
“Do not diminish your achievements. That is progress.” So’lek’s tone was sweeter now, as if the notion of you healing brought a weight off his heart.
“It is hard to notice progress when my enclosure stays untouched.” Your words were cruel, referring to yourself as some sort of spectacle to be viewed. No longer a person but a burden to be monitored.
“But others have noticed it.” So’lek whispered, his words trying to cool the burn of your speech.
“You would have too.” Your gaze finally met his, sharp and cruel. Pupils as dangerous as daggers glaring within him. “If you ever visited me.”
The words landed like a dagger to his heart.
So’lek stilled to a halt. For a slither of a moment, you thought he may pretend he had not heard a thing. That he would leave the words suspended in the air unanswered. Instead, his shoulders sagged, only just. As if the strength holding him upright had begun to slip.
“I did visit.” He said quietly, almost defeated.
You scoffed before you could stop yourself, turning your gaze away from him. “Then why did I not see you.”
He let out a ragged breath. His jaw tightening. He hovered over you, taking a step closer.
“I came almost everyday.” He admitted. “I made sure you were taken care of.”
“Taken care of? Like I am some sort of chore?” You spat, your words cutting him.
“No.” He replied quickly, fast enough that his tongue almost tripped on the words. “I thought…” He stopped, swallowing hard. “I thought that you did not want me here.”
Your brows knit together, confusion and a growing bloom of anger bubbling within you. “What?”
“In the upper plains.” He said softly, sensing your growing tension. “You…asked me to stop hovering, to not mull around you.” He grimaces as the words leave his mouth, as if they pain him to say it. “That I was doing more harm than good.”
His voice dropped.
“When you returned home…I was not needed. That my presence would only make you feel smaller.”
His words stunned you into stillness.
“So you decided for me?” you whispered harshly.
“I thought I was respecting you!” His voice raised, the air in the room shifting into something sharper.
“You think disappearing is respect?” Your voice rose. “You think leaving me alone in a room I cannot escape is dignity? As if Eywa has not taken my liberties away with her will?”
He grimaced, flinching at the fire you spewed.
“As if I have not been moved from one prison to another! That I hold my own key but I cannot stand to grab it!” Emotions bubbled within you, every thought, every feeling, every prayer beginning to building within you. Your own emotional eruption imminent.
So’lek went to say something…anything. But words failed him. All he could do was listen, watching how much he had failed you.
“I didn’t want to be handled.” Your words came out as if you were defeated, your lips trembling with each sentence. “I didn’t want to be watched as if I would shatter. I wanted to be seen!”
His eyes widened slightly. His brain reeling with thoughts. How wrong had he been? How much had his guilt clouded his vision? To see what was so clear in front of him.
“You treated me like I was already gone,” you continued. “Like if you touched me I’d shatter!”
“I thought I was protecting you.” His voice shook as he crouched beside you.
You shook your head violently, as if you could fling the tears from your eyes. “You were protecting yourself.”
“No-”
“I am not fragile.” You hissed, shifting on the mat. Your palms braced on either side of you. Fingers curling into the fibres.
“I never said you were.” His head hung low.
“Your actions did.” You reached back, fingers locking around the log behind you, muscles straining as you pushed yourself up. “Every time you decided for me.”
“What- What are you doing?” Hid head snapped up, panic flaring in his eyes as he watched you drag yourself upright. “Ma Eylan- be careful!”
“Don’t!” Your voice cracked with warning. “Don’t help me!”
“You will hurt yourself!” So’lek was already preparing for the worst. His cautions falling on deaf ears. “Please- do not do this!”
“I must.” You snarl, forcing more pressure on your injured leg. Pain exploded instantly, white hot and vicious. Yet you welcomed it. “I need to! Because I choose to.”
“Stop!” His hand closed around your arm. “You do not need to prove anything!”
You shoved him with enough force he stumbled back, his hand still grasped around you.
“I didn’t ask for your permission,” you cried, yanking yourself free.
Your balance shattered.
The world slipped beneath your feet.
For just a heartbeat you were weightless. Toppling down through the air until the floor rushed to meet you.
Pain detonated through your leg. A sharp, broken cry tearing from your throat. Your hands scraped uselessly against the walls as you tried and failed to catch yourself.
So’lek was there in an instant.
“No- no, no,” He gasped, hands hovering inches from you, terrified to touch you, frozen by his own fear. Once again, his intervention had caused you harm. “Eywa- please.”
“Don’t!” you sobbed, shoving weakly at his chest as your body convulsed. Tears burned hot down your cheeks. Your breath coming in shallow, broken pulls. Nausea rising as the pain swallowed everything.
A loud sob erupted from your throat. Shame and regret piling up inside you. Maybe you were as weak and hopeless as everyone else saw you. Were you to ever recover? Had you destroyed the minute progress you had made in a moment of irrational stupidity?
So’lek was frantic around you, his tail lashing, pupils blown. You laid broken before him, and he was hopeless to helping you. Despite your faint resistance his arms wrapped around you as is Eywa herself were trying to rip you away.
Distance would not save him now.
“What were you thinking?!” He choked, his breath ragged, hands brushing your hair from your face. His thumb catching the tears that spilled over your cheeks.
“I just-” A cry ripped from you as a searing white pain shoot through your leg mercilessly. “I don’t want to live like this. I don’t want to be fragile; I don’t want to be cared for- I just want to live again.”
So’lek’s hold on you was careful. Yet he didn’t hold you as if you were something broken- but something that was precious.
“You were never fragile.” His voice was softer now, nothing but tenderness and care. “You are so strong…so much stronger than I ever could be.”
Your lip quivered, finally leaning into his touch. The warmth of his skin slowly dulling the growing ache in your leg. “Don’t leave.” You whimper clutching onto to his chest. A stark difference to the strikes you were landing on him before. “Please.”
“I won’t.” So’lek’s head bent down, bringing your forehead closer to his. Your skin resting against each other, noses brushing. “I will be here.”
And in the quiet aftermath, So’lek finally understood that his fear had never kept you safe, it had only ripped you further away from him.
The ache in your leg lingered, but it no longer screamed.
It pulsed dully, like a bruise pressed too often. Yes, it was painful but survivable. It no longer anchored you to the ground, instead simply an obstacle to overcome.
So’lek was close, helping you settle back on to your mat. His movements were slow, careful without being suffocating.
He stayed.
Not outside the curtain, watching from a far.
He stayed beside you.
For a while it felt strange. You had become accustomed to his absence, a constant shadow that seemed to follow you. Your body expected the distance as he vanished from you.
Now it didn’t know how to be without him.
The world was quiet, but the silence was not suffocating. It was cozy and comforting. The light slowly filtering into the room, its warmth caressing your skin.
Yet your body was still tense. Even in the softest of moments, you found yourself bracing for impact. The fear of another searing hot flare shooting through your body. Your hands curled in on themselves waiting to be swept away again.
“You should rest.” So’lek whispered. He noticed the way your shoulders remained tense.
“I am resting,” you replied, though your body betrayed the lie.
He shook his head; a small grin tugging at his mouth. “Ah…your body disagrees.”
You rolled your eyes weakly, hissing as your leg twitched. “Traitor.”
A soft sound escaped him, not quite a laugh, but close enough that your chest warmed at the sound.
“Are you feeling restless?” He questioned, his voice rumbling deep.
“Always.” You replied quickly.
“Do you want to move?” His head tilted down to meet you eyes.
“Do you always ask such stupid questions?” You chuckled looking up at him. “Of course I want to move.”
So’lek rolled his eyes. “I know that. I mean now. Do you want to try?”
You shake your head, worry in your eyes. “We know what happened last time.”
So’lek grimaced. “You will be fine.” He stood slowly, offering his hand. There was no expectation, he was going to go at your pace.
You placed your weary hand in his. Taking a deep breath.
This time, when your pulled yourself up. It was not an action done to prove something. It was an action made to progress.
Your body didn’t panic. The pain was still there, but it didn’t swallow you whole. So’lek stayed still, he let you guide him. He only touched unless you leaned into him. Which you did…just a little.
“One step Ma Eylan.” He murmured. “You can do it.”
You nodded, your breath hitching.
You had not taken a step in months. Confined to the walls your own body imprisoned you too. One step was all you needed.
Your foot slid forward, it was stiff and unfamiliar. You stood still for a second glancing down at the small movement you had made, trembling. Then you let out a shaky laugh. “I did it.”
“I knew you could.” He said, pride softening his features. So’lek took another step backwards, giving you the space to move once again. “Again. I believe in you.”
You took another step.
Then another.
Each one felt like a victory, while small it was monumental. By the time your leg began to ache, you were grinning despite the sweat beading along your spine.
“You have done so well.” He said gently, worried you may push yourself too far. “Come.”
He guided you back to the mat, slow and steady as your body limped. He eased you down, then sat beside you. Close enough that your shoulders brushed.
You leaned into him without thinking.
For a heartbeat he froze…then relaxed. His arm settling around you, firm and warm. You fit there perfectly, as if your body had meant to be there all along.
“I am happy.” You whispered.
He tilted his head, resting his temple against yours. “As am I.”
Your fingers toyed with the dog tags on his chest, absentminded. “You know” your murmured, “If you leave again without telling me, I might actually kill you.”
His breath huffed against your hair in a short laugh. “Noted.”
You tilted your head up.
And he was already looking at you.
You didn’t realize how close you were until your breath tangled with his.
So’lek stilled, but he didn’t pull away or move closer. As if he was afraid even the smallest shift would shatter this moment. His pupils were blown wide, swallowing the gold of his eyes.
His gaze was fixed on your mouth, pulling him in as if it had become something dangerous.
Something sacred.
“You are so beautiful.” He whispered, his voice barely sound.
His hand came up slowly, as if he was asking for permission. His thumb brushed along your jaw, tracing your neck, feeling where your pulse raced beneath your skin. His touch was light and tentative, no longer the hands of a warrior but the hands of a lover.
You leaned into it.
And that was all it took.
Your breath stuttered, chest lifting sharply. The hand at your jaw tightened just slightly. His forehead rested against your own. His breath hot and uneven against your lips.
“I have wanted this,” he admitted, his words rough, torn from deep within him. “For so long…but I feared I did not deserve it.”
Your fingers curled into his vest, fisting the fabric as if it was the only thing keeping you upright. “I need this.”
For just a moment, he hesitated.
Then he kissed you.
Slowly. Carefully.
His lips brushed yours, barely there, a whisper of touch that sent a shock through your body, sharper than any pain. The world seemed to tilt, sensing narrowing until all you could feel was the warmth.
When you kissed him back, he exhaled a broken sound against your mouth.
The restraint shattered.
His hand slid from your jaw to the back on your neck, his fingers threading through your hair, pulling you further into him to deepen the kiss. It was unhurried but certain. His lips moved against yours with precision, slow and thought out. As if he was learning you, memorizing the shape of your lips, the sounds of your mouth, the taste of your tongue.
You had melted into him. The hand on his vest flattened, travelling up to the bareness of his neck feeling his heartbeat race beneath your palm – fast and wild.
He kissed you as if he was grounding himself. Like he was afraid that you may vanish if he didn’t hold on.
His thumb brushed your cheek as you let out a small gasp, his lips melting further into you. He could feel the hunger build inside him with every swipe his tongue made against your lips. Hands gripping you tighter pulling you closer into him. He would not end this kiss without your sign. He would move at your pace, by your side for as long as you needed him.
Your lips lingered, pulling away for air. Then they pressed against his, a final kiss, sealing a promise in the space between you. When you finally pulled back, So’lek held you close, foreheads touching, noses brushing, breath shared.
“I am here.” He whispered.
You smiled, small and real. “I know.”
Later that night, when the fire had burned and the room smelled of crushed herbs and smoke, So’lek returned.
He had left earlier to gather you some more herbs. You told him that there was already some there, but he was adamant the ones he would gather were better. To your dismay, he was correct.
So’lek was beside you studying the wraps on your leg. “I made you a drink, it will help you regain strength.” He reached for the water cup beside you.
He held it up. “Drink.”
You obeyed, only to grimace immediately, face contorting as you swallowed. “This tastes like bark.”
So’lek chuckled. “It is bark.”
“Gross.”
Soft silence filled the room, So’lek shifted closer, easing you against his shoulder. The sounds of his comms crackling and talking. “What is it?” You asked looking up at him.
So’lek stifled a frown. “I have to go at first light.” He let out a deep breath. “I have one last…” He stopped himself looking down at the dog tags that adorn his chest. But you understood what he meant.
“You will come back.” It wasn’t a question.
“Of course.” He promised. “I can show you my home, when I return.”
“At resistance?”
So’lek shook his head. “No…it is like,” he smiled looking down “A haven.”
You grinned, fingers tightening around his. “Well, you must take me to see it.”
“I will take you anywhere your heart desires Ma eylan.”
He pressed his forehead to yours, his lips caressed the soft skin. A promise of his return sealed with a kiss.
Outside the forest begun to shift.
Neither of you knew that this small moment of happiness would crumble so quickly.
a/n: soz if theres any typos i really hate editing LMAO but if u guys want the next part plz tell me i can def end the story here if u want it to have a nicer end but i am conjuring some ideas with the from the ashes pack (also i'd never end this story on a bad ending just am a sucker for MORE angst)
plzplzplz reblog and comment i wanna hear from y'all i appreicate you guys sm! okyeeeee byeeee
pairing: idol/model! jungkook x part time staff! reader
genre: fluff, sfw
wc: 2.7k
synopsis: You offered to do some part time work for a Calvin Klein shoot to earn some quick cash. The job was simple. Do whatever the higher ranked people told you to do. You expected a simple job like making coffee or ordering lunch for the staff. You definitely did not expect the biggest star in the world following you around like a puppy, thinking you’re his soulmate just because a bell rang when you crossed paths with him…
*inspired by jungkooks comment abt hearing bells ring when he meets his soulmate ^^ BUT NOTE THAT THIS IS NOT SOULMATE AU
“y/n, thank you so much for helping us out! Our shoot today is extremely important for the company and we needed all the help we could get! You are aware of who the model is, right?” Sejin, your overall manager for the shoot today approached you as you entered the shooting area.
You immediately noticed how large scale this shoot was, compared to the other shoots you’ve been to before. As a college student interested in the modelling sector, you had always tried to find opportunities to get yourself familiarised with the industry, and at the same time earn some money to pay off your school fees. Thus you’ve dabbled in helping out with basic chores for shoots, such as buying coffee for the staff, organising the mess on the tables, or the occasional touch up of the model’s makeup. However, all of the shoots you’ve been to so far have been small scale, quick shoots, unlike this shoot which seemed to have about 100 staff members in a rush to get ready. Whoever the model was must have been a huge figure.
“Sorry, this job was kind of last minute so I didn’t have time to read up on the information. Who is the model?” You replied Sejin with slight embarrassment.
“It’s fine, no need to be sorry. The model is Jeon Jungkook of BTS! Do you know how many fans this guy has? This shoot is going to make our company stocks rise to the max!” Sejin laughed out loud at the mere thought of company stocks rising.
Jeon Jungkook? Wow. Who didn’t know Jeon Jungkook? He was the most famous and desired man in the whole South Korea — in fact maybe the whole world. Your jaw hung open. You were going to see Jeon Jungkook? Sure, you were probably not going to reach within a 10 meter radius of him as a small staff, but you were gonna be in the same room as him. You weren’t a big fan of him but you had heard of how famous he was. Jeon Jungkook was a household name. You’ve personally heard your mother and siblings fangirling over him. Who would have known that y/n l/n, the only one in the l/n family who did not fangirl over Jeon Jungkook would be meeting him first. You laughed to yourself, imagining your family’s reaction when you tell them about it.
“Ah, y/n, the shoot is about to start, i’m about to get busy. Could you do me a favour and help me get my file for todays shoot? It’s in my office, you should know where it is.”
“Sure! I’ll go now!” You immediately replied, hoping to do good job so you could get on his good side. You bowed at him quickly, before rushing to his office.
When you reached his office, you immediately found the file, with big, bolded letters written on it. “For Jungkook shoot! Extremely important!” You were about to grab it and leave, when you notice a golden bell beside it, with a post it note written on it. “Bring to the shoot! In case I need to get everyone’s attention since nobody ever listens to me anymore!” You laugh at the note, grabbing both the bell and the notes as you head out of the office.
As you walked in the hallway, you suddenly got a text message from sejin. You placed the bell on top of the file and barely balanced it with your left hand, as your right hand held your phone to read the message.
Help me take the bell too please! Thank you!! - Sejin
You inwardly praise yourself saving a trip back, trying to type a response to sejin with your right thumb.
Just as you were about to hit send, you suddenly felt a hard chest in front of you, harshly colliding into it, sending you to the ground.
Ding! The loud sound of the bell resonated in the empty hallway as it hit the ground.
“What the hell…” You rub at your painful head as you lay on the floor, rushing to get up to grab the file before its contents fly around.
Dischevelled, you grab the file and bell, hugging it close to your chest as you glared up at the person who caused the mess.
You definitely did not expect to see a pair of doe eyes looking at you curiously, with a glint of excitement in them. His mouth was open slightly in awe, as if he just saw an angel. But your jaw hung wider than his when you realised you just bumped into THE JEON JUNGKOOK?
“Oh…OH MY GOD! I’m so so so sorry!” You quickly sobered up, standing up and bowing at him multiple times. You avoided eye contact as you walked past him and tried running away in embarrassment.
But before you could leave, you felt strong, large hands grabbing your wrist.
“W-wait! Don’t go… who are you? Are you my soulmate?”
When you heard what he said, you almost burst into laughter. What? Soulmate? What was this famous star on? Was the most famous guys in the world really asking you if you were his soulmate? You let out a muffled laugh, trying your best to hold it in as you say, “Excuse me?”
“T-the bell. It rang when we bumped into each other. It’s fate.”
You finally let out your laughter at that, laughing uncontrollably at what you thought was a joke, until you noticed his hardened stare and realised maybe he was not joking.
“Um the bell rang because it fell on the floor… I don’t think we are ‘soulmates’, sorry man.” You said awkwardly.
The both of you stood in silence, staring at each other. After 30 seconds, the awkward tension started getting to you and you slightly bowed before walking away back to the shoot.
If you thought that would be the the end of the very weird experience, you were very wrong. As you walked, you could feel a presence behind you. Using your peripheral vision, you were 100% sure Jeon Jungkook, the world’s most desired bachelor was following you around like a puppy. You were starting to get annoyed, the other staff were starting to notice and the attention was definitely not what you needed. You whipped around, face to face with Jungkook.
“Why are you following me?” You ask infuriatingly.
At your annoyed tone, he lets out a small smirk, suddenly having some newfound confidence.
“I’m not following you, I’m going the same way as you.”
You let out a frustrated sigh, turning around and stomping at a quicker pace to the shoot area. Of course, he was still following you closely.
When you reached the shoot, you felt an instant relief with the amount of people bustling around.
“Jungkook is here!”
“What! Where?”
“Jungkook!”
The moment Jungkook entered the room behind you, people immediately took notice of him, running to be by his side and crowding around him. You took the opportunity to blend with the crowd and get away from him.
As you turned back to look at him, you noticed he was looking around for you, after losing you in the crowd. His eyebrows were slightly furrowed as he carried a small frown on his face, eyes glancing around the room trying to find you.
For a guy who could get any girl he want, he seemed weirdly obsessed with you. Did he really think you were his soulmate because of the bell? Maybe he was just playing with you like with other girls. You were just a nobody to him after all. You place the thoughts at the back of your head as you get back to work, finding Sejin.
“Thanks y/n, you can go take a lunch break. I’ll text you if I need you!” Sejin seemed satisfied at your swift pace as he released you for a break.
You give him a small smile as you walk out to the cafeteria with a sigh of relief. Taking one last glance at Jungkook, he still seemed to be trying to find you, with a small cute pout on his face as he seemed slightly frustrated at his futile attempts.
You sat down on an empty bench as you chewed on your sandwich, glad that you could take a short break before the real demands start coming in when the shoot gets busy.
Emergency: Contact some models to see if they’re available ASAP. Part time models OK. Get a variety. Jungkook being picky. He doesn’t want to work with Nari. - Sejin
You furrowed your eyebrows at the message. Jungkook didn’t want to work with Nari? Nari was the biggest female model in Korea. Why didn’t he want to work with her? She was ‘the most beautiful girl in Korea’ and every man loved her. Why did he have to be so uncooperative and make my job so hard? You quickly messaged your model contacts, asking them to come as soon as they could.
Of course, all of them immediately accepted. Who wouldn’t be dying to get an opportunity to model with Jungkook? You led the 4 models to the shoot, noticing the grim and dark mood as soon as you entered. You could tell there was tension due to Jungkook’s lack of cooperation.
When sejin noticed saw the models, his face immediately lighted up.
“Jungkook! The models are here! You can choose any of them to be your partner! These girls are all highly esteemed models and they are all experienced! Any of them would be a great partner!”
You could feel the girls beside you fixing their posture and making a juice pose as they awaited in anticipation for Jungkook to see them.
Jungkook looked up from his phone in disinterest, quickly skimming over the models until his eyes landed on you. Immediately, you noticed a glint of sparkle in his eyes, a child like smile on his face as he pointed at you.
“I want her.”
You instantly tensed up, staring at sejin in shock. You could feel the rest of the staff’s shock as well. You wanted to climb into a hole and die from the tension. Why did he have to cause so much problems for you?
“A-are you sure jungkook? Y/n is a beautiful girl but she’s a staff, not a model…”
You looked at Sejin in desperation, slightly shaking your head and telling him with your eyes that it was a no. However, Jungkook was relentless.
“If it’s not her, i’m not doing this shoot.” He said nonchalantly.
You wanted to smack his handsome little face so bad. You should have just stayed home today. Sejin walked over to you, pulling you aside apologetically.
“I’m so sorry y/n, but you know how important this shoot is to us. Could you please help us out this once? It’s just for today. We will pay extra and it’ll be a great experience! You want to work in the modelling industry in the future right? You could hear desperation in his tone.
You thought about it. Of course this would be a great experience for you, but you were so unprepared. What if you didn’t do well? Or worse what if his fans hated on you? You couldn’t handle that. But with Sejin staring at you so desperately, you felt that the guilt of rejecting him would kill you on the inside. You knew how excited he was for this shoot.
“Fine.”
“Thank you! Thank you so much y/n! Here take this file and read up on the looks for the shoot. I’ll bring you a makeup and stylist team ASAP. The shoot will start immediately when you’re ready!” He handed you a file with immense gratitude written on his face.
You reluctantly grabbed it from him, making your way to the makeup room as you tried to avoid the heated jealous stares of the girls around you. You glared at Jungkook as you walked past him, receiving a smirk in return.
When you reached the makeup room and sat on the model’s chair for the first time, you flipped through the file, reading the contents, your eyes widening and jaws dropping when you read it.
“Underwear shoot???!!”
You stared at yourself in the mirror after you had gotten your makeup and styling done. You were only wearing Calvin Klein underwear and a Calvin Klein jean jacket. Were you really about to do this? Of course, you looked hot. This was probably the hottest you have been in your whole 21 years of your life. But you were so nervous. You sucked in a deep breath, telling yourself: You have to do this well. This will give you many opportunities. Just suck it up.
You walked out awkwardly, feeling the heat of everyone’s stares. You could especially feel Jungkook’s heated stare.
“y/n! You look great! Come here! Let’s start the shoot!” Sejin commented in excitement when you came out.
You awkwardly walked over to in front of the camera where Jungkook was already waiting.
“Ok, y/n, I need you to sit on Jungkook’s lap and grab his neck while looking up innocently at the camera.”
You looked at Jungkook who had a smug look on his face as he waited for you to approach him. You tried not to stare down at Jungkook’s sudden exposed abs. Sucking up your embarrassment, you did as Sejin said.
Unexpectedly, the shoot went smoother than you expected. You managed to do many of the poses Sejin told you to do, even the intimate ones. Sejin even commented that you were a natural. Looking at the pictures taken, you also noticed that you somehow had a natural chemistry with Jungkook, with all your pictures with him seeming natural, like a real couple. In one of the pictures, you were straddling Jungkook as you both stared into each other’s eyes as if you both loved each other. You felt yourself blush as you stared at the picture. Despite the slight embarrassment, you couldn’t help but feel a new sense of pride when you were praised by everybody there, even staff members who previously did not even acknowledge your presence.
“And that’s a wrap! Thank you to everyone!” Sejin shouted.
You felt a flush of relief feel your body, a sense of tiredness taking over your body as you could finally relax.
You slowly got up from Jungkook’s shirtless body, looking away from him. You could still sense him staring at you as you walked away to change out of the uncomfortable undergarments.
After removing the extravagant makeup and changing into comfortable clothes, you walked out of the shoot feeling much more relaxed. You looked at the time on your phone, noticing it was already 11pm. Everybody must have already left by now.
You let out a content sigh, thinking back on the stressful day.
“y/n, wait! Dont go yet!”
Just as you were about to step out of the building, you heard a panicked voice behind you.
You turn around, seeing Jungkook who was panting hard as he bent down to catch his breath. He had changed into more comfortable clothing, with a hoodie and sweats, without any makeup on his face. Yet with such a natural look, he seemed so much more attractive to you. He must have ran after you if he was panting so much.
You crossed your arms, playfully smiling at him as you asked him why he stopped you. You felt a newfound sense of comfort with him after the shoot with him, maybe because you had been in such intimate positions with him.
“I-I need to tell you something. T-there’s something wrong with your phone. It doesn’t have your number in it…” Jungkook seemed nervous.
You looked at him in confusion, not understanding.
“W-wait! I mean there’s something wrong with my phone! It doesn’t have your number!” Jungkook hit his head in frustration, seeming actually annoyed at himself for not pulling off his pickup line correctly.
“So what do you want me to do about it?” You ask with a playful smirk on your face.
“You can fix it by giving me your number.” He said with a shy smile, still slightly embarrassed from his failed pickup line, as he reached out his phone to you.
You laughed out loud at his shyness and relentless determination. Jungkook laughed along with you shyly as you both shared a moment in the sweet darkness of the night.
You grabbed his phone from his hand, typing out your phone number.
*HII IM NEW TO TUMBLR i may make a part two depending on how wrecked i am after seven comes out :’)
