content warning: na’vi!mate!reader. (gn) the fluffiest fluff to ever fluff. mention of their first time (one sentence) excessive use of the exclamation mark (!) the translations are at the end. let me know if i missed anything <3
word count: 1.6k ^^
author’s note: and if i tell you this was supposed to come out yesterday? tumblr decided to act up and it wouldn’t let me edit the damn draft :( good thing is it’s finally here, i hope you’ll enjoy it because i do like this one better than my previous neteyam post :) as always, constructive criticism is welcomed and english is my third language so i apologize for any mistake. expect more avatar fics!! this is only the beginning hehe also let’s not let the fandom die yeah? it can’t only be active for a few weeks after a movie releases! OH!! and please someone tell me whose fan art that is, PLEASE i saw it on pinterest and the comments were off 😭
divider by @uzmacchiato
the sully marui is sunk in silence with the exception of lo’ak’s snores. with all the care you can, tiptoeing and mastering the grace of a windtrader, you reach neteyam, sleeping peacefully on his side, hand tightened around his knife, ready to strike.
gently, you let your weight rest next to him. and neteyam, always the light sleeper, has his eyes on you the moment his body registers the change, ears fluttering. but the hand doesn’t attack, it doesn’t move, no. not when it’s your scent flooding the space. security.
“sweetheart? what’s wrong? are you in pain?” his hands run through your body in search of something to heal, to fix, until they reach your cheeks. “i’m fine, nete. don’t worry.” “did you have a bad dream?” you shake your head and place your fingers over his, melted by his intense caring nature. “i promise. can we cuddle?” there is no need for such a thing like convincing, he’s already shifting to embrace you.
“there’s something else.” besides a yearn for cuddles, he means. your mate knows you even better than he knows himself. you’re his other half, after all. the connection you share is not a simple romantic bond. it goes further beyond. it’s divine, sacred, spiritual, fated. there are truly no words to do it justice.
he kisses your head in a reassuring way -open, supportive, listening. “im here, yawntu. always.” your goal has not been forgotten, only left aside under the sudden shyness, but you push through.
“can we make tsaheylu?” the vulnerable request catches him off guard, but it’s not a bad surprise. he lets out a deep breath in relief it’s not something bad and his ears flicker agitatedly in such a way they almost distract you from the purple-ish blush tainting his cheeks, and neck, and most of his body, really.
“baby…” the pet name sparks that giddy feeling on your stomach, very sound advice from his dad. “of course we can. anytime. anytime you need it, please.” his hand stays on you while the other is already grabbing his tail and bringing it close, his queue’s braid letting itself be seen in an instant, ready. more than ready. expecting, craving.
you do the same with yours and before you know it, the fibers are tangling around, desperate.
the sealed bond hits you both with an explosion of overwhelming emotion that takes through your bodies until reaching your souls.
images and sounds surround you almost too quickly to process. but you bask in the warmth and safety of it.
˚ ⟡ a grounding hand on your lower back ⟡ ˚,
ꕤ ‘i see you’ ꕤ ,
☼ the wind on your face combined with his arms around your waist and his boyish chuckles on your ear ☼ ,
𓋜 his skilled fingers on your braids 𓋜 ,
❀ ‘got something pretty for you’ ❀ ,
𓇢𓆸 the sacred tree 𓇢𓆸 ,
ఌ the ceremonial clothing hugging your body ఌ ,
༘ ‘made you something’ ༘ ,
𖤐 strong arms holding you at night 𖤐 ,
𖠗 loving caresses on your skin 𖠗 ,
ᡣ𐭩 ‘you have me forever’ ᡣ𐭩 ,
𖦹 tails nuzzling the other 𖦹 ,
୨୧ adoring kisses all over your flesh ୨୧ ,
⊹ harvest brought only to you from his hunts ⊹,
ᜊ your very first time together….. ᜊ
the turmoil focuses on you two, as kids. playing together. swimming together. practicing together. simply existing. together.
a very specific memory takes the spotlight invading all you are.
my name echoes around the forest while i place the last fruit on my basket. turning around i’m met with my best friend ever. neteyam sully. he’s the son of the olo’eyktan and he’s super cool! everyone says he’ll be the mightiest warrior of our clan in a couple years. and…. he’s my bestest friend!
“look what i caught!” he screams excitedly while wiggling the fish on his hand. my mouth opens as i let a gasp in total awe. eywa!! “woooow! yami! it’s so big!!” at my words, his face lights up and his chest -still heaving a bit from the quick run- puffs out. “it is! i just caught it, by the lake, with my father.” i take a few steps closer to examine the fish, it is truly a feat. he’s so amazing… “i-i have not seen any other kid hunt something yet, this is awesome. ….you are awesome nete.” “it is nothing. i just….” his fingers toy lightly with his songcord. “a lot of practice. and aim. the fish is not that huge…” he’s trying to be humble, as usual. i can’t let him.
“it is huge! enormous! gigantic! it’s almost like Toruk!” i cheer with animated giggles and he looks at me with- oh!! he’s doing that again. the colors thing! it’s super cute. i love it when he does it because he resembles the tree of souls. purple and shiny. hehe.
“well… i’m happy you think so because i actually brought it for you…” i- i am so shocked that i don’t know what to say. my heartbeat starts getting too fast and i feel my face set on fire. the silence goes on while i try to find an answer until my tail decides to speak for me and whips the floor loudly. great, how embarrassing!! “i mean, you don’t have to accept it if you don’t want to, it’s an ugly fish anyway…” “it’s perfect!” oh thank the great mother i do remember how to speak. “it’s just, it’s yours…and the very first…what about the clan?” neteyam shakes his head intensely, making his braids wiggle and clatter at the beads. “it’s okay. i want you to have it.” his tiny hands shove the fish towards me for approval. “it’s for you. i like hunting for you.” that statement stirs something inside of me. i really like how it sounds. him hunting for me… “and… i… don’t care about the clan.” the audacity of such words should have me rejecting the offer immediately, but as much as that part of me knows this is not the right thing, i can’t deny the other is dying of excitement and flattery to have it be mine. “thank you so much, nete. it’s the greatest honor ever. i’ll live up to the expectation and take great care of it!” his head tilts and a small smile appears on his face. “it’s for you to eat.” ohhh. “eat? i can’t! it’s your achievement. wait, we have to show everyone!!” i yank his arm and start running towards the village, fruit basket forgotten.
the morning goes by full of compliments and praise. “you did well, champ. you brought the pretty fish to your friend, huh, son?” says jake, grinning, though i get the feeling he’s hiding something in his smile… “look at you. you’re happy. my sweet son.” neytiri cups his face and smiles at me too. i like it when they’re nice to me. i have always felt some sort of need for their blessing, i don’t know why. “your little hunter did great, didn’t he?” my dad approves, and i think neteyam also seeks his acceptance because his shoulders relax significantly. “he did, you have a very special boy bringing you gifts.” my mum hugs me, i don’t know what i’m missing, they’re all very joyful, it’s like they know something we don’t.
after the celebration over neteyam’s perfect skill, i hear jake mutter “best first hunt i’ve ever seen. and not just ‘cause of that fish.” i wonder what he means, and neytiri notices. “you have his heart. he has given it to you.” she places her hands over my chest. but i already knew that. neteyam is the best friend ever. and i thank the great mother for giving him to me every day. in fact, i feel so much gratitude i go back to him and smooch his cheek before he can say anything. “irayo, neteyam. i’ll never forget today.” i pull back and when i look at him i realize if he keeps doing the colors things with this intensity he’s going to end up looking like a terapteron. he’s almost there already.
the memory fades but the emotion doesn’t. it only gets stronger. you look at your beautiful mate, and find yourself in your young self -totally speechless. but there’s one thing. one thing that always fits. “i love you.” you see his eyes water but his arms pull you in before you can take a longer look at them. still, you know they’re not out of sadness. never with you by his side. “ma muntxa…. gods. i- i do not know how to convey all i feel. thank you. for being in my life. since we were kids, i have found myself enamored by you. and i don’t understand how you gave me a chance with how big of a skxawng i was…” “you were the definition of adorable.” your tail throbs, still tangled around his with no intention of letting go. “i tried to impress you…. every damn day.” “i was. i still am. my mighty warrior… so proud of you, since day one.” you pull back and finally get a proper look at him. he’s so breathtaking. a chuckle escapes you when you mull over the way your story started. “your first hunt. it was a massive declaration.” he nods and smirks. “yet everyone could tell except for you. the object of my declaration and all my love.” you playfully hiss at him. “yah! you were just as clueless! even more. you weren’t even aware of the weight of the declaration you were making.” he looks away.
guilty. as. charged.
“you’re right, ma yawntu. right as always.” “that’s what i like to hear.” you thread your fingers through his braids. “thank you for making tsaheylu with me.” “dont thank me. it is my pleasure. it makes you happy. and i love it too. i love reminiscing over our past. hope our future will be just as perfect.” he finishes with a soft kiss to your lips, tails throbbing together with glee.
reminder: reblogs, likes and comments are extremely appreciated and keep me motivated. ty! 🩵
content warning: fem!mate!na’vi. angst, hurt/comfort, fluff. let me know if i missed anything.
word count: 1.3k 🩵
author’s note: OMGGG GUESS WHOS BACK! tho you probably don’t even know me. it’s been so long since i posted or even wrote something (like a year) so please bear with me :( it’s also my first time writing for neteyam, i don’t know how i did. constructive criticism is welcomed. english is my third language so i apologize for any mistakes, please be patient. i’m sure a fic like this has been made before, it’s nothing unique, but i couldn’t stop thinking about this idea so here it is, i kinda hate it lol. anyway, good to be back, expect MANY neteyam fics cause i just watched the avatar movies and im obsessed. enjoy!! 🩷
“you need to stop doing that.”
his tail goes up and his ears twitch when they recognize that voice. your voice. home.
“what?” he turns around to look at you and whatever has been troubling him seems to fade under the veil of love. “i don’t know what you’re referring to.” you sit next to him and let your feet sink in the cristal water too. that’s when you notice. he didn’t anticipate your presence until you spoke, didn’t sense your scent like he always does.
you surprised him.
nobody surprises neteyam. no one catches him off guard. ever.
“taking the blame for lo’ak. for everybody.” you add quickly, because even if they all seem hellbent on acting like he is the only one getting in trouble, truth is his brother’s is just one more weight, one more blame to carry as his own. he’s merely one more person to cover up for. to shield. with his own body.
“i did the right thing.” you almost feel like he’s not actually talking to you. it doesn’t seem like a conversation. more like a recitation, something he’s learnt to memorize.
“no. you did what you have been forced to believe is the right thing.”
“it is my fault.” there he goes again. the deeply engrained guilt mixed with cruel responsibility.
“neteyam. you didn’t start the fight, you had nothing to do with it. hell, you didn’t even get in for a good 10 seconds while they were whooping Lo’ak’s ass.” you contradict with a chuckle, the lighthearted memory a comforting pause, a ray of light you hope reaches his inner self-criticism too.
“i wasn’t with them. had i been, there wouldn’t have been a fight to start with.” your expression saddens at his tone, so resigned. his posture, so tense yet crestfallen- like he’s accepted the load but it doesn’t make it weigh any less heavily on his shoulders. his downcast eyes fixed on the bubbles hugging your ankles. and his ears, flattened, mirroring yours.
you wish he would look at you, or at himself. you wish he saw.
“no…. that’s not fair. you can’t be with them all the time. you’re not their babysitter. you’re not even their father.”
“i’m their older brother. they’re my responsibility.” his voice never raises, no matter how exhausted, angry or frustrated. “i’m supposed to watch after them. everything they do, everything they say, is on me.”
you get ready to counterattack, to tell him it’s not true, that they’re their own people and he can’t carry so much, to repeat yourself again, basically. but it’s useless. you’re not gonna change his mind. you know it’s a never ending cycle, he’s stubborn like that. therefore, you take a different approach and slowly stretch out your arm to hold his hand. for a tiny second you feel fear. fear he’ll pull away. fear he’ll build more walls. but he doesn’t. he intertwines his fingers around yours. and your heart soars.
“thank you.” neteyam is not the most touchy-feely na’vi, never has been. or a big fan of pda. so it means the world to you when he tries for you, when he feels comfortable enough to let it happen, when it comes natural to him.
“no. thank you. for trying to comfort me. though this is not your burden to bear.”
“neteyam.”
“yawntu.”
“ah! don’t ‘yawntu’ me!” you exclaim with a soft nudge to his arm, and he finally, finally looks at you. an amused grin stains his face, accompanied by a small sparkle on his eyes. even his ears are standing again! you're getting through him, after this long.
“you don’t understand.” and then the illusion shatters.
you’re about to talk back, but you suppose he’s right. “i’m not the eldest. i haven’t known that pressure, i guess. but i do know the difference between brotherly protection and obsession. responsibility is one thing. but you….. you yearn for a level of perfection, of responsibility that is non-existent and unattainable. and i- i don’t know how to make you see it.”
“it’s my job.” the cracking of your heart is so deafening it overshadows the ocean itself.
“job? yami… you’re not even a man yet, you’re still-”
“it’s who i am.”
your fingers tense around his grip, tight. “you’re my mate. my love. my soulmate. and the ceremony will take place soon. you’ll be my husband and i’ll be your wife. and i need to know you trust me.”
“i do. yawntutsyìp, i do.” it’s his turn now to return the squeeze. “more than anything-”
“but i need to know you can open up to me. i know you say it is not my burden to carry. but i can help you. make it lighter. that’s what love is about. sharing the good and the bad. i can’t have a marriage built on unstable communication and a lack of trust. i don’t wish that for myself, nor yourself. i need transparency. i won’t force you to speak up, ever. but…. you have to understand where i stand.” the words come out harsher than you intended to but you’re tired of holding it in. how are you to be his muntxate if he never tells you what’s wrong? if he can’t let himself be vulnerable in fear of not being strong enough?
“is that…how i make you feel? unsure? untrustworthy? unloved?” his voice cracks on the last word, too painful to even consider. is he going to lose you? his eyes water and you shake your head- this is not what you meant or wanted, but he continues. “i- eywa, i had no idea. i am so sorry. i just, i’m trying to be strong. trying to be someone you can all feel proud of. those things… they’re all i am. all i’ve ever been. i don’t know how to be anything else.”
“ma neteyam.” you say cupping his face, ready to catch any tear. “oel ngati kameie. not the mighty warrior. not the future olo’eyktan. not the perfect son. or the eldest brother. you. i see you. i see the boy that brings me a small present every time he goes on a flight because it made him think of me. the boy who braids my hair for hours because he doesn’t want my hands to get tired. the one that cooks and hunts for me because ‘to love is to provide’. the one willing to stay awake at night by my side as i go through my herbs’ notes so i am not alone even after a tiring day of patrolling. my beautiful mate who lets me be as cuddly as i need because he knows physical touch is my love language. and i could go on and on for days, my love.”
he stares back, intently and pained, not even blinking. “you are strong. and brave. and oh so skilled. which i love you for. but you are other things too. you are gentle, thoughtful, loving, patient, caring. and soft. and i love you even more for those. vulnerability is not failure or weakness. it’s strength and bravery.” you seal the speech with the caress of your forehead on his. his eyes are still on yours. and that’s when something magic happens. you feel it. he’s seeing. you. himself.
“oh, ma yawntu. you’re too good for me, i do not deserve you. allow me to apologize for having made you feel like this. it was never my intention, it will never happen again, eywa…” he’s blabbering now, tears soaking his face. “i will open up. for you. for our love. i promise.”
you let him hide his head on your shoulder while your arms wrap around his shaky form. “i will be better. i will be a good muntxatan, the one you deserve. i swear. you don’t know how much everything you just said means to me. i thank you, with all i am. ”
“you are forgiven, my love. please do not torment yourself. i love you.” he pulls back to kiss your forehead. “i love you too. and i see you too, always have. not the future tsahìk. not the wife of the future olo’eyktan. you.”
content warning: fem!mate!na’vi. angst, hurt/comfort, fluff. let me know if i missed anything.
word count: 1.3k 🩵
author’s note: OMGGG GUESS WHOS BACK! tho you probably don’t even know me. it’s been so long since i posted or even wrote something (like a year) so please bear with me :( it’s also my first time writing for neteyam, i don’t know how i did. constructive criticism is welcomed. english is my third language so i apologize for any mistakes, please be patient. i’m sure a fic like this has been made before, it’s nothing unique, but i couldn’t stop thinking about this idea so here it is, i kinda hate it lol. anyway, good to be back, expect MANY neteyam fics cause i just watched the avatar movies and im obsessed. enjoy!! 🩷
“you need to stop doing that.”
his tail goes up and his ears twitch when they recognize that voice. your voice. home.
“what?” he turns around to look at you and whatever has been troubling him seems to fade under the veil of love. “i don’t know what you’re referring to.” you sit next to him and let your feet sink in the cristal water too. that’s when you notice. he didn’t anticipate your presence until you spoke, didn’t sense your scent like he always does.
you surprised him.
nobody surprises neteyam. no one catches him off guard. ever.
“taking the blame for lo’ak. for everybody.” you add quickly, because even if they all seem hellbent on acting like he is the only one getting in trouble, truth is his brother’s is just one more weight, one more blame to carry as his own. he’s merely one more person to cover up for. to shield. with his own body.
“i did the right thing.” you almost feel like he’s not actually talking to you. it doesn’t seem like a conversation. more like a recitation, something he’s learnt to memorize.
“no. you did what you have been forced to believe is the right thing.”
“it is my fault.” there he goes again. the deeply engrained guilt mixed with cruel responsibility.
“neteyam. you didn’t start the fight, you had nothing to do with it. hell, you didn’t even get in for a good 10 seconds while they were whooping Lo’ak’s ass.” you contradict with a chuckle, the lighthearted memory a comforting pause, a ray of light you hope reaches his inner self-criticism too.
“i wasn’t with them. had i been, there wouldn’t have been a fight to start with.” your expression saddens at his tone, so resigned. his posture, so tense yet crestfallen- like he’s accepted the load but it doesn’t make it weigh any less heavily on his shoulders. his downcast eyes fixed on the bubbles hugging your ankles. and his ears, flattened, mirroring yours.
you wish he would look at you, or at himself. you wish he saw.
“no…. that’s not fair. you can’t be with them all the time. you’re not their babysitter. you’re not even their father.”
“i’m their older brother. they’re my responsibility.” his voice never raises, no matter how exhausted, angry or frustrated. “i’m supposed to watch after them. everything they do, everything they say, is on me.”
you get ready to counterattack, to tell him it’s not true, that they’re their own people and he can’t carry so much, to repeat yourself again, basically. but it’s useless. you’re not gonna change his mind. you know it’s a never ending cycle, he’s stubborn like that. therefore, you take a different approach and slowly stretch out your arm to hold his hand. for a tiny second you feel fear. fear he’ll pull away. fear he’ll build more walls. but he doesn’t. he intertwines his fingers around yours. and your heart soars.
“thank you.” neteyam is not the most touchy-feely na’vi, never has been. or a big fan of pda. so it means the world to you when he tries for you, when he feels comfortable enough to let it happen, when it comes natural to him.
“no. thank you. for trying to comfort me. though this is not your burden to bear.”
“neteyam.”
“yawntu.”
“ah! don’t ‘yawntu’ me!” you exclaim with a soft nudge to his arm, and he finally, finally looks at you. an amused grin stains his face, accompanied by a small sparkle on his eyes. even his ears are standing again! you're getting through him, after this long.
“you don’t understand.” and then the illusion shatters.
you’re about to talk back, but you suppose he’s right. “i’m not the eldest. i haven’t known that pressure, i guess. but i do know the difference between brotherly protection and obsession. responsibility is one thing. but you….. you yearn for a level of perfection, of responsibility that is non-existent and unattainable. and i- i don’t know how to make you see it.”
“it’s my job.” the cracking of your heart is so deafening it overshadows the ocean itself.
“job? yami… you’re not even a man yet, you’re still-”
“it’s who i am.”
your fingers tense around his grip, tight. “you’re my mate. my love. my soulmate. and the ceremony will take place soon. you’ll be my husband and i’ll be your wife. and i need to know you trust me.”
“i do. yawntutsyìp, i do.” it’s his turn now to return the squeeze. “more than anything-”
“but i need to know you can open up to me. i know you say it is not my burden to carry. but i can help you. make it lighter. that’s what love is about. sharing the good and the bad. i can’t have a marriage built on unstable communication and a lack of trust. i don’t wish that for myself, nor yourself. i need transparency. i won’t force you to speak up, ever. but…. you have to understand where i stand.” the words come out harsher than you intended to but you’re tired of holding it in. how are you to be his muntxate if he never tells you what’s wrong? if he can’t let himself be vulnerable in fear of not being strong enough?
“is that…how i make you feel? unsure? untrustworthy? unloved?” his voice cracks on the last word, too painful to even consider. is he going to lose you? his eyes water and you shake your head- this is not what you meant or wanted, but he continues. “i- eywa, i had no idea. i am so sorry. i just, i’m trying to be strong. trying to be someone you can all feel proud of. those things… they’re all i am. all i’ve ever been. i don’t know how to be anything else.”
“ma neteyam.” you say cupping his face, ready to catch any tear. “oel ngati kameie. not the mighty warrior. not the future olo’eyktan. not the perfect son. or the eldest brother. you. i see you. i see the boy that brings me a small present every time he goes on a flight because it made him think of me. the boy who braids my hair for hours because he doesn’t want my hands to get tired. the one that cooks and hunts for me because ‘to love is to provide’. the one willing to stay awake at night by my side as i go through my herbs’ notes so i am not alone even after a tiring day of patrolling. my beautiful mate who lets me be as cuddly as i need because he knows physical touch is my love language. and i could go on and on for days, my love.”
he stares back, intently and pained, not even blinking. “you are strong. and brave. and oh so skilled. which i love you for. but you are other things too. you are gentle, thoughtful, loving, patient, caring. and soft. and i love you even more for those. vulnerability is not failure or weakness. it’s strength and bravery.” you seal the speech with the caress of your forehead on his. his eyes are still on yours. and that’s when something magic happens. you feel it. he’s seeing. you. himself.
“oh, ma yawntu. you’re too good for me, i do not deserve you. allow me to apologize for having made you feel like this. it was never my intention, it will never happen again, eywa…” he’s blabbering now, tears soaking his face. “i will open up. for you. for our love. i promise.”
you let him hide his head on your shoulder while your arms wrap around his shaky form. “i will be better. i will be a good muntxatan, the one you deserve. i swear. you don’t know how much everything you just said means to me. i thank you, with all i am. ”
“you are forgiven, my love. please do not torment yourself. i love you.” he pulls back to kiss your forehead. “i love you too. and i see you too, always have. not the future tsahìk. not the wife of the future olo’eyktan. you.”
content warning: fem!mate!na’vi. angst, hurt/comfort, fluff. let me know if i missed anything.
word count: 1.3k 🩵
author’s note: OMGGG GUESS WHOS BACK! tho you probably don’t even know me. it’s been so long since i posted or even wrote something (like a year) so please bear with me :( it’s also my first time writing for neteyam, i don’t know how i did. constructive criticism is welcomed. english is my third language so i apologize for any mistakes, please be patient. i’m sure a fic like this has been made before, it’s nothing unique, but i couldn’t stop thinking about this idea so here it is, i kinda hate it lol. anyway, good to be back, expect MANY neteyam fics cause i just watched the avatar movies and im obsessed. enjoy!! 🩷
“you need to stop doing that.”
his tail goes up and his ears twitch when they recognize that voice. your voice. home.
“what?” he turns around to look at you and whatever has been troubling him seems to fade under the veil of love. “i don’t know what you’re referring to.” you sit next to him and let your feet sink in the cristal water too. that’s when you notice. he didn’t anticipate your presence until you spoke, didn’t sense your scent like he always does.
you surprised him.
nobody surprises neteyam. no one catches him off guard. ever.
“taking the blame for lo’ak. for everybody.” you add quickly, because even if they all seem hellbent on acting like he is the only one getting in trouble, truth is his brother’s is just one more weight, one more blame to carry as his own. he’s merely one more person to cover up for. to shield. with his own body.
“i did the right thing.” you almost feel like he’s not actually talking to you. it doesn’t seem like a conversation. more like a recitation, something he’s learnt to memorize.
“no. you did what you have been forced to believe is the right thing.”
“it is my fault.” there he goes again. the deeply engrained guilt mixed with cruel responsibility.
“neteyam. you didn’t start the fight, you had nothing to do with it. hell, you didn’t even get in for a good 10 seconds while they were whooping Lo’ak’s ass.” you contradict with a chuckle, the lighthearted memory a comforting pause, a ray of light you hope reaches his inner self-criticism too.
“i wasn’t with them. had i been, there wouldn’t have been a fight to start with.” your expression saddens at his tone, so resigned. his posture, so tense yet crestfallen- like he’s accepted the load but it doesn’t make it weigh any less heavily on his shoulders. his downcast eyes fixed on the bubbles hugging your ankles. and his ears, flattened, mirroring yours.
you wish he would look at you, or at himself. you wish he saw.
“no…. that’s not fair. you can’t be with them all the time. you’re not their babysitter. you’re not even their father.”
“i’m their older brother. they’re my responsibility.” his voice never raises, no matter how exhausted, angry or frustrated. “i’m supposed to watch after them. everything they do, everything they say, is on me.”
you get ready to counterattack, to tell him it’s not true, that they’re their own people and he can’t carry so much, to repeat yourself again, basically. but it’s useless. you’re not gonna change his mind. you know it’s a never ending cycle, he’s stubborn like that. therefore, you take a different approach and slowly stretch out your arm to hold his hand. for a tiny second you feel fear. fear he’ll pull away. fear he’ll build more walls. but he doesn’t. he intertwines his fingers around yours. and your heart soars.
“thank you.” neteyam is not the most touchy-feely na’vi, never has been. or a big fan of pda. so it means the world to you when he tries for you, when he feels comfortable enough to let it happen, when it comes natural to him.
“no. thank you. for trying to comfort me. though this is not your burden to bear.”
“neteyam.”
“yawntu.”
“ah! don’t ‘yawntu’ me!” you exclaim with a soft nudge to his arm, and he finally, finally looks at you. an amused grin stains his face, accompanied by a small sparkle on his eyes. even his ears are standing again! you're getting through him, after this long.
“you don’t understand.” and then the illusion shatters.
you’re about to talk back, but you suppose he’s right. “i’m not the eldest. i haven’t known that pressure, i guess. but i do know the difference between brotherly protection and obsession. responsibility is one thing. but you….. you yearn for a level of perfection, of responsibility that is non-existent and unattainable. and i- i don’t know how to make you see it.”
“it’s my job.” the cracking of your heart is so deafening it overshadows the ocean itself.
“job? yami… you’re not even a man yet, you’re still-”
“it’s who i am.”
your fingers tense around his grip, tight. “you’re my mate. my love. my soulmate. and the ceremony will take place soon. you’ll be my husband and i’ll be your wife. and i need to know you trust me.”
“i do. yawntutsyìp, i do.” it’s his turn now to return the squeeze. “more than anything-”
“but i need to know you can open up to me. i know you say it is not my burden to carry. but i can help you. make it lighter. that’s what love is about. sharing the good and the bad. i can’t have a marriage built on unstable communication and a lack of trust. i don’t wish that for myself, nor yourself. i need transparency. i won’t force you to speak up, ever. but…. you have to understand where i stand.” the words come out harsher than you intended to but you’re tired of holding it in. how are you to be his muntxate if he never tells you what’s wrong? if he can’t let himself be vulnerable in fear of not being strong enough?
“is that…how i make you feel? unsure? untrustworthy? unloved?” his voice cracks on the last word, too painful to even consider. is he going to lose you? his eyes water and you shake your head- this is not what you meant or wanted, but he continues. “i- eywa, i had no idea. i am so sorry. i just, i’m trying to be strong. trying to be someone you can all feel proud of. those things… they’re all i am. all i’ve ever been. i don’t know how to be anything else.”
“ma neteyam.” you say cupping his face, ready to catch any tear. “oel ngati kameie. not the mighty warrior. not the future olo’eyktan. not the perfect son. or the eldest brother. you. i see you. i see the boy that brings me a small present every time he goes on a flight because it made him think of me. the boy who braids my hair for hours because he doesn’t want my hands to get tired. the one that cooks and hunts for me because ‘to love is to provide’. the one willing to stay awake at night by my side as i go through my herbs’ notes so i am not alone even after a tiring day of patrolling. my beautiful mate who lets me be as cuddly as i need because he knows physical touch is my love language. and i could go on and on for days, my love.”
he stares back, intently and pained, not even blinking. “you are strong. and brave. and oh so skilled. which i love you for. but you are other things too. you are gentle, thoughtful, loving, patient, caring. and soft. and i love you even more for those. vulnerability is not failure or weakness. it’s strength and bravery.” you seal the speech with the caress of your forehead on his. his eyes are still on yours. and that’s when something magic happens. you feel it. he’s seeing. you. himself.
“oh, ma yawntu. you’re too good for me, i do not deserve you. allow me to apologize for having made you feel like this. it was never my intention, it will never happen again, eywa…” he’s blabbering now, tears soaking his face. “i will open up. for you. for our love. i promise.”
you let him hide his head on your shoulder while your arms wrap around his shaky form. “i will be better. i will be a good muntxatan, the one you deserve. i swear. you don’t know how much everything you just said means to me. i thank you, with all i am. ”
“you are forgiven, my love. please do not torment yourself. i love you.” he pulls back to kiss your forehead. “i love you too. and i see you too, always have. not the future tsahìk. not the wife of the future olo’eyktan. you.”
content warning: gn!reader. blood, drugs. mentions of dying and overdosing. angst/hurt/comfort/suggestive/fluff. let me know if i missed anything.
word count: 2.9k
author’s note: can’t believe i’m finally posting this. i’ve had this written for so long you’d never imagine. and it feels so good to finally put it out! such a relief!! im super late and idk if anyone’s gonna read it tho. i also have many other squid game drafts if anyone is interested….. i’ve just been really busy with work, and a few days ago i got sick. but anyway, enjoy!! <3
third day, 18:06
“who are you hiding from?” hyun-ju’s voice brings you back to reality -can you even call it that? is this reality? well, to your new reality. “what? what do you mean?” you try to go for ‘total confusion’ but your pulse has already quickened in the blink of an eye. “you always change your hair when we vote, and try to hide your face as much as possible.” the pressure on your stomach comes back stronger than ever.
“you always seem tense, as if waiting for something, super conscious of your surroundings. trust me, i’ve seen that look on people many times.” well fuck. of course she would notice. tho, better her than him. you give her an answer, not a total lie, but still not good enough because “it’s none of my business; i won’t ask again. however, if you need help, come to me whenever you want to.” you could have told her; perhaps it would have been better, she’s not the type to judge.
these three days, you’ve been hiding your hair to make it look shorter, and it’s worked. he hasn’t seen you once. not even during Mingle, crazily enough. the reason why the universe is being so cooperative, you have no fucking clue, but you couldn't be more thankful. half of the game, and you've managed to not let it turn into a total hell. enough, right?
if you saw him in between games, you’d turn around. if he got too close during one, you lacked space to run. as if he was something toxic, and in a way, he is.
but no wall can stand forever.
third day; 20:28
“what the fuck are you doing here?” well, this is as far as you go; certain things are inevitable. “the same thing you are. actually, i still have some humanity left, so i guess not exactly the same.”
with that, you turn around; just because he’s found you doesn’t mean you owe him any explanation. “hey, hey, hey, where the hell do you think you’re going?” tho he could give you one. “what did you do to that chick?” the sudden change of topic confuses him, cooling his anger for a moment. “huh?” “i’ve seen her before. piercing, short hair, was always with you, that purple-haired maniac, and the guy you mess with.” “se-mi… that fucking whore….” those words send a shiver down your spine, but you persist. “what did you do to her?!” he doesn't give you an answer. a verbal one, that is. but there's no need for it; his ruthless eyes do all the talking. oh, god.
you try to walk away again, but he harshly grabs your arm and spins you around, forcing you to face him. “you’ve been ignoring me all these days?!” he has the balls to get mad? him? “no, i was ignoring the person you’ve become here.” you spit, attempting to break his grip, but he’s using all his strength. “let me remind you that it was you who-“ “and i wouldn’t have done it if you hadn't made me!” his jaw hardens, and his beautiful eyes squint, coldly glaring at you. which redirects your focus to them.
“fuck, gyu, you’re stoned?” he doesn’t hear your question; he can’t. his mind stops working halfway through your words. ‘gyu’. shit. how fucking long has it been since you called him that? he hates it, loathes how it makes him feel, especially the craving it awakens for more.
“you’ve voted X? why the fuck do you support those cunts?” of course he would avoid the inquiry. at the end of the day, who is he without that desperate thirst for constant control? “holy shit, that’s your question? seriously?”
thankfully, the sound of doors opening drowns the heavy air between you two. the guards enter with the food, putting an immovable end to the conversation.
third night, 22:10
you can’t sleep, not like you’ve gotten much rest the previous days, but after that conversation your head just won’t stop spiraling.
you decide to go find hyun-ju, now that you’ve told her, talking may help let off some steam.
“going to see your friend?” oh come on. he’s spying on you now? you ignore the hostile question and keep walking. “you know he’s a-“ “shut the fuck up. she’s a hundred times a better person than you.” those words feel so unfamiliar. he would have never thought it was you who they came from if you hadn’t just uttered them in front of him. the taste they leave in your mouth is bittersweet. you know he deserves it, but deep down it hurts to be so cruel to him. now that you've met again, you yearn to get that warmth back, but everything he's done...
you can't even look at his perfect hands without seeing se-mi’s blood…
fourth day; 00:46
you stay in the bathroom until there’s no one left. looking for a bit of peace; however it may be. while heading out, you spot an ajar door. only some weak sniffling can be heard, but it’s more than necessary to pique your curiosity.
as you get closer, you find him there.
great.
he's sitting on the floor rubbing his face, clearly suffering. blood stains can be seen all over the clothes. your stomach churns at the sight; you don’t like seeing him like this. it’s agonizing how different he seems. ‘leave. just leave and act like nothing.’ you know that’s the smartest thing to do. so why aren’t you moving? the thoughts grow louder, and your heart mutes them; for better or worse, you don’t know. but it gives free rein to what it dictates, almost on impulse. and suddenly you’re holding his shaky yet rigid hand.
as surprising as it may be, he doesn't pull away, and simply stays still, avoiding your presence. must be the weakened state the drugs put him through. you slowly turn around his sweaty fist and find a cross collar in which you assume the pills are kept. “...you need to stop…” you understand the desire to numb the pain, the raw need to find a distraction, but in the end it's only gonna ruin him more.
he quickly yanks it away, “oh, you do wanna talk now?” its snarky; he's pissed off. well, you get that; you have no clue why you’re doing this either. ‘you’re still in time to leave.’
“what now, huh?” his eyes close while leaning further against the wall. he’s exhausted. the bob of his adam apple irregular, his breathing heavy. it's all painfully familiar.
the deja vu surrounds you with poisoned memories. every single one of them like a bullet to the heart. a bathroom. yourself. desperate, begging him to stop. him, unable to do so. you don't want to go through that again. you can't. and you know he doesn’t want to hear it all again either. “how many did you take?” no attack, no confrontation, no judging. not anymore. you won't let it turn into a fight. “too many.” it's nothing new, really. you’ve seen and known more about his high self than the real one during the whole time you were… whatever you were. you are aware of all the different versions. the aggressive one, the horny one, the hyper-energetic one, the goofy one…
his head bumps against the wall, faint voice when he speaks, just not enough to mask the resentment, “are you gonna leave again?” goddamn. can’t say it’s not a fair question. what the fuck do you answer now? nothing feels fitting enough, so you just take his hand again and try to clean some of the dry blood. the contact has your stomach doing backflips; you miss his damn touch way too much, it's no use to deny it. “answer my fucking question. you always leave.” he sighs, “you said you were done. ….so what's happening now?” your presence must be intensifying his daze, because he sounds genuinely disoriented. “.....i dont think any of that matters anymore. not here. this place is like a deadlock…” you try to downplay the seriousness of your conversation and end up making him laugh. “so you just wanna talk when we’re about to die.” his speech is more lively, are you actually helping him?
“what happened to hating me?” that question puts your thoughts on hold. you know what you feel –the conflicting opinions at war inside your body. you can't lie. “i still hate you.” it shouldn't burn your throat to let it out, it's the truth, but you can't stop yourself from adding: “a part of me does, anyway.”
this is wrong. you’re ruining everything. why are you still here? “then why are you holding my stupid hand?” “because the other part is worried.” you need to focus. you can't let his vulnerability get to you this much. you can't fall for the manipulation of past love again.
his laugh gets stronger; god it sounds deranged. he sits up and looks at you for the very first time. and you wish you could see anger, disgust, hatred. but you don’t. or maybe it's just the freezing of your blood that prevents you from noticing. “what? what the hell is it now?”
reality is always crueler.
“your eyes….” no, no, no. “gyu” there it goes, that damn nickname again. he immediately closes them, taking his hand away one more time. building more walls. “god, gyu. how many did you take?” worry corrodes you, fear. you’ve lived this before…. it’s like a nightmare. his laugh turns bitter. “don’t. don’t fucking call me that.” the overwhelming feeling gets the better of you and you can’t help it; your hands reach his face. you know he’ll push you away, you know he’ll get angrier, or curse at you. you expect all of that, but you can’t mind it. not with his pupils looking like that.
there it is, you’re falling for it again; maybe you simply don’t wanna stop it, tho. he flinches and grabs your wrists, ready to push you, but the moment your eyes lock, he stops. you see the whirlwind in them. his mind fighting itself. you know he wants to do it, but something’s stopping him. the dilation makes you feel aghast. you remember his overdose; you were there. you think about how the circumstances are taking a toll on him, the tiredness, the stress. it has to be that, please.
“fuck, gyu…” “stop.” it doesn't sound like an order, more like a plea. the conflict still taints his face; you feel it on his arms, the shakiness, the tension, like he’ll snap before you know it. your whole body hurts. “....stay….” your eyes burn, you can’t lose him here, not after everything.
there’s no reaction, his voice sounds robotic, “you said you didn't wanna talk to me again.” you’re getting desperate. “gyu. stay.” your hands tighten, hell, you’re begging again. “i have nowhere…to go.” he closes his eyes, seemingly struggling to keep them open, and leans back. “namgyu, for fuck’s sake, stay with me!” you’re shaking his head now. you know what's coming. his head lolls forward, he tries to focus on you, but his gaze is weak. he can’t hold the eye contact. “shit.” you stand up and wet your hands, then place them on his head. how did you let it get this far? “come on, don’t fall asleep.” he stares at you, at the bathroom. -is he seeing it too?- then lowers to your lips. he is. “you're making me sick.” he mumbles, rubbing his face. you ignore the scorching needles tugging at your skin, “keep talking”, and stand up again to bring him some water with your palms, “drink it.” which he does, thank goodness. and then, takes a second to breathe in. “you left.” your heart drops. “yes, yes i did. keep lashing at me if you want, just don't fall asleep.” he stays still. giving you that wide, drugged-out-eyes face you know so well. “i hate you.” fucking shit, you also feel sick. “yeah. that's perfect, just stay awake.” you feel your voice becoming strained. “i fucking hate you.” you nod, if it keeps him conscious, you’ll worship that hate. “that’s okay…” he grabs your face and brings it closer, “i said i fucking hate you. with my entire fucking soul.” you nod again and gulp. “i hate you too.”
he yanks you forward and smashes his lips against yours. it’s not a soft kiss, or sweet. it’s rough, and hard. desperate and messy. you kiss back. fuck you, you hate yourself too. it feels too good, it always has.
he pulls you even closer, getting worked up, the water making it sloppier, and bites your lip taking control, as usual. your hands dive deeper into his hair, getting to his nape. one of his grabs your throat, the other your waist, and they pull you into his lap. he presses his tongue into your mouth and damn it all to hell, you missed this so much, you tug on his hair.
you’re both getting out of breath, his arms are trembling, but none of you can let go. it’s too much. he keeps his hands around you and stops for a second, only to breathe, and pulls away with your lip in his teeth. then he starts to kiss a path down your jaw and neck. he bites and sucks on your skin. claiming every piece that used to be his.
“you’re a fucking bitch…” he whispers against your hot flesh.
“and you're a bastard son of a bitch.” you retort gripping tighter. he groans at the pain. “am i? you’re the one who left.” his fingers start to trail down your body. as if he was trying to feel every inch of skin, trying to commit it to memory.
“you made me leave.” you scratch his neck. “oh, so now you’re blaming me? now that you’re finally facing me?” he pulls you into another open-mouthed kiss, making you moan. the fucker smiles and bites you one last time before breaking it, panting. then goes back towards your neck, right above your ear, and whispers: “you’re mine. don’t fucking forget that”. but you’re still stuck on the way he just looked at you, it’s like reality makes its way through your lustful haze.
he’s high. he’ll regret this tomorrow, maybe he won’t even remember. you try to stop the thought but it has already infected your brain.
damn it.
he keeps going, still under the influence. “say it….say you’re mine.” you can’t. you can’t do that to yourself. “we need to go back…and you need to rest…” you try to move, “don’t give me that bullshit,” but he’s still stronger. “i won’t rest until i hear the words.” his hot breath sends chills down your spine, “are you going to be good, and give me what i want?” but you can’t bring yourself to say it. it’s the last step into madness. tho the pull is too strong, and you don’t wanna shatter this moment, you still crave closeness, so you caress his lips and he kisses the fingers before taking them into his mouth, playfully biting the tips. he’s looking at you with lust, and something more.
“you gonna keep testing me?” “you gonna regret this?” he smirks, “with how good it feels? nah.” and keeps kissing everywhere. “say it. you know you want to.” god, you hate him. “….i’m yours, gyu…..” the second you say it it’s like something unlocks inside of him. he grabs the collar of your shirt and brings you in for more. “mine, mine, mine.” he chants against your lips, in a trance. “you’re mine. you’re so good to me. why were you so stupid? you could have stayed…” kiss. “but now you know better, right?”
motherfucker.
you cup his face, “i hate how fucking hot you are.” “i know,” he smiles snuggly. “it’s what makes you so addicted to me.” you rest your head on his shoulder, already past the barrier. that doesn’t stop him from marking you even more, tho. hes insatiable. “did you miss me?” he’s not playing now, you feel the underlying insecurity. “you’re an asshole, you already know the answer.” “do i?” he asks, holding your chin. you nod. “i did, i missed you, gyu.” “yeah? missed me or my dick?” “at least your dick made me feel good.” “i did too, you brat. how much can we do in these bathrooms before they catch us?”
as if on cue, an armed soldier enters the bathroom. “you’ve got great timing, man.” and as you exit the room, he whispers: “not what i had in mind, but we can still work with this.”
fourth day, 02:26
“do you regret tonight? being with me?” you shake your head. you may regret being so weak, so addicted, but in the end, it was bound to happen. you two were bound to happen. your souls are tangled by pain, blood, and love. and they can't exist separately. “is it because you missed me or do you have a soft spot for bad boys?” “laugh all you want but you scared the shit outta me with those big-ass pupils.” he nuzzles you with his nose and teases back. “i’ve had bigger ones than that, you shouldn’t be surprised. besides, didn’t you miss playing nurse?” you know he’s only pulling your leg, but there’s a thin layer of worry enveloping you still.
“shut up,” you scoff. “make me,” he taunts. and you comply, giving him the softest kiss so far. “so good. you’re so good at taking care of me.” he mutters against your swollen lips, and you can’t stop the grin. tho at least it’s dark and the blushing you can keep to yourself. “can’t believe i missed your stupid-ass sweet talk.” his tongue gives you a playful lick. “you missed more than that, baby.”
Hiiiiii! ♡♡ have you already seen the kdrama weak hero class?? I was hoping you could do some twitter links 😩😩🙏🙏
weak hero class twitter links nsfw
content warning: fem!viewer. these are explicit smut videos, watch at your own risk. you have been warned! if you don’t like this, don’t watch.
author’s note: guys im so late omg, i feel like absolutely no one will see this, help. still, i saw the request and i couldn’t not post it. so i hope you like them. and that there’s still an alive side of the fandom🤞🏻 make sure to be logged into twt/x beforehand, if some of the links stop working let me know. enjoy <3
연시은 | Yeon Si-Eun ✎
he's always so stressed you'll have to help him unwind
quicker than fucking
poor guy only wanted a hug
안수호 | Ahn Su-Ho ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁
he’s just so damn hungry all the time
he wanted to take you for a ride…
there’s a lot of pent up frustration you gotta let him let out
tired after work
first thing in the morning
making you feel good
오범석 | Oh Beom-Seok ✈︎
the glasses stay on
needs to be in control for once in his life
truth is he only really needs someone to care
서준태 | Seo Jun-Tae ☼
punishing him for getting your milkshake order wrong
author's note: oh, anon, if only you knew the way i smiled when i read the request.... anyway, first time posting smut (you can tell), and can we talk about how fucking weird writing it is? i did what i could, also english is not my mother language so bare with me. im sorry y’all 😔😔
dividers by @cafekitsune and @strangergraphics <3
voting leaves the room plunged into an eerie environment. you lay awake, haunted by the hopeless souls, when some ruffling is heard and your bed sinks slightly. you don’t need to ask to know who it is.
“you good?” he doesn’t have to utter a single word to show his agitation. the sounds he lets out are proof enough.
“i can’t fucking fall asleep. those x motherfuckers are riling me up the wrong fucking way.” he scoffs while finally lying down. uneasiness is clearly staining his voice, and you know that tone; he’s on the edge.
“you high?” he snuggles closer to you, pressing his back to your chest before playfully whispering in your ear, “how’s that feel to you, baby? mhm?”, his hard-on against your lower back.
“fuck”
“exactly,” he purrs. “i’m desperate as fuck.” needy hands begin to roam all over your body. “and you’re gonna help me.” he leaves a sloppy kiss on your neck before rasping out, “right?” his fiery breath has goosebumps exploding on your skin alongside a certain pressure starting to arise on your belly. still, you’re surrounded by hundreds of strangers all piled up mere inches away. “can’t you get out and jerk it off?” his frisky laugh intensifies your arousal and you feel yourself getting hotter with every word he mutters. how can someone’s voice be so damn attractive? “why the hell would i do that when i have you right here? come on, be good for me.” his hands move underneath your shirt, and the dangerous mix of his alluring tone with the fire the physical contact is igniting on your back while he caresses it with his fingertips turns your brain into mush, making it almost impossible to stay sensible.
“shit, gyu. here? now?” you make an incredible effort to fight your lust, “shhhh. don’t you wanna help relieve my stress?” and he shatters all of it, sending your remaining clarity away.
“fuck, yes.” you turn around and immediately yank his face towards yours, finally tasting heaven-like relief. “good girl,” he pants against your lips. “you feel so much better.” the kiss is messy and hungry. desperate. like you need it to survive. and in a way, he does.
when your tongues make it too laborious to breathe, he pulls back with your lower lip caged in between his teeth. “why don’t you ride me a bit, mhmh? make me forget those assholes.” you don’t think ‘no’ could ever be a possible answer, not to him. so you nod, already craving that pleasure, and he quickly removes your green sweatpants. he doesn’t bother prepping you or even pulling your underwear down, tho, he’s way too gone for that. he simply grabs you by the hips and makes you sit on top of him. nothing else. the work is yours to do.
without hesitating, -you want this way too bad-, you take his reddish, stiff member out and give it a few strokes. he grunts and you can't take it, so pushing your panties to the side, you sink in.
“yeah, that's what i'm talking about.” he gasps, totally unconcerned about the circumstances, as always. who cares about the other players when your pussy is taking him so deep? you however, bite your lips to hold back a moan while moving up and down, following a leisurely rhythm, not wanting to get too carried away. although the speed doesn't really matter. he feels wonderful, and a few seconds are all he needs to have you seeing stars. “you're so wet, such a perfect slut for my dick.” you shiver at his praise and he chuckles, gripping your waist with such passion it hurts. but only because you have to suppress your burning satisfaction.
“ride me harder.” the sight of him lying back, talking to you like this with the way he’s staring, has you instinctively bucking your hips. the pace escalates, and you slowly let loose. the grinding turns into bouncing, whimpers become full moans, and you're both so fazed the bed screech accompanying your noises goes unnoticed.
you use his lean arms as support, gently tracing his perfect veins as a comfort gesture. “god, you’re so good…” your voice is groggy and strained. “i know.” you could get pissed at his overly confident attitude, but truth is you find it hot as fuck. he knows no one could make you feel like this.
“i- i’m- i’m sorry, could you please be quieter, if it’s not too much trouble?”
it takes you a moment to process what’s happening, your lewdness acting as a blinding veil, but namgyu answers for you.
“give me bullshit like that again and i’ll break your face, whore.”
the random woman is astonished as well as appalled. she apologizes again and seemingly leaves her bed, the footsteps dying out.
“fucking cunt. bothering me when i’m railing my girl...” he pushes you down and gives you a harsh kiss, the new position snapping you out of your trance. “what the fuck? ur still hard?” you ask through moans. “goddamn, if you knew how fucking good your pussy feels, you’d understand. ‘ts a damn drug.” at that, your walls clench, his sweet talk getting you every. single. time. and it motivates him to change positions, laying you on your side, as you were initially. but you're still a bit weirded out, and he notices. how could he not, with how well he knows your body?
“focus on me. don’t want you thinking ‘bout that or anything that isn’t me and the way i’m fucking you, got that?” his hand travels to your throat and adds a bit of pressure.
“yeah.”
his girth perfectly stretching you out turns off anything that's not his cock, his movements get harder and deeper due to the still present indignation. “i’m close, gyu…” you cry out, yearning for that release. “of course you are, with how fucking much you’re leaking,” those words only make it worse. “i think you were just as desperate as i was, huh? such a perfect nympho for me”, he groans, thrusting faster. your head lolls back, resting on his shoulder, his dick hits you with such precision it’s hard to even keep your eyes open. slender fingers climb up your skin and reach your lips, which you instantly part letting out a low moan. with that, he pushes them inside, pressing down your tongue. and you suck them with all you’ve got left, licking and slurping while he fucks you in both holes.
the double pleasure takes control over your body and you start to notice your shakiness. “gyu…” you babble, the capacity of forming full sentences is gone, not only because of his hand. “cum on my cock like a good girl, come on.” he demands against your neck, and your brain listens, as usual, sending throbs and contractions through your hips. your belly drops as if from a plane, he abandons your mouth eager to hear your falling over and you don't disappoint, squeezing his biceps while panting for air. “oh, fuck…” the aftershocks keep going while he pulls out, “damn, you drenched me” you’re not in your right mind to fully comprehend yet, “now, i don’t want it to go to waste, so you’re gonna swallow me up real good. yeah? not gonna drop any?” you answer by sticking out your tongue, and before you know it, the thick, salty, warm liquid fills your senses. you swallow and hear him sigh, relieved.
“shit, i’m spent. you’re such a good stress reliever.”
he falls asleep on your bed and ends up snuggling against you :3
author’s note: y’all idk what’s happening to me. like i swear when i watched the show i didn’t care about him. in fact i didn’t even like him. and now i can’t stop thinking about his hot face and hands 😔 expect more fics to come cause i’m going crazy. btw, i apologize for the possible mistakes as english is my third language. enjoy <3!
divider by @strangergraphics <3
the colorful lights create a shiny veil over the club. the music reverberating throughout the place, accompanied by loud, excited screams and intoxicated voices, acts as a barrier to the real world.
while i wait for my friend to come back from the bathroom, a guy catches my eye, separated from the rest, in a corner. he must be around my age, a bit older. and i don’t know what it is exactly, but something immediately lures me in. something about his aura, his vibe.... maybe it’s the dark hair, or the tattoos on his arm, the way he’s talking to the man next to him like he’s important...
he looks hot. and like a total dick too.
“you like him?” your friend inquires cheekily, noticing your stare. “i haven’t seen him before.” you don’t forget someone like him. his tall frame and dark clothes adding to the arousing pull i’m feeling. “he’s the reason we’re here. i found the club through him; he promotes it.” “do you know him?” there’s a growing curiosity inside of me, to know more, “not at all”, to get closer. “he looks like a playboy,” she declares, to which i can only agree. “an attractive one, tho.”
on cue, as if he had heard us -impossible given the distance- he takes his eyes from that man and locks his gaze on mine, sending a flutter through my stomach. but i don’t shy away, seeing his eyes go down my body, checking me out, unashamedly. a hussy grin accompanies the action while i keep the intense eye contact going for some time before turning around and heading back to the dance floor. as i do, i feel his gaze slide over my body and smile to myself, satisfied, trying to sensualize my walk a bit.
the night continues as usual: drinks, dancing, some flirting here and there, all that still carrying a boost of confidence from that previous interaction.
eventually, i take a break sitting by the counter, and almost in no time, a smell of cigarettes, alcohol, and something else surrounds me.
“hey” he speaks with confidence and a certain ego; the grin is back where it had been before. he leans on the bar and studies me, daringly, carefully. that seems to fuel my boldness, because my hand moves almost instantly towards his face, slowly. he doesn’t back away or stop me; he doesn’t even flinch. i gather the remaining white powder from the warm skin right over his upper lip with a finger and lower it, showing it to him. “oops, my bad,” he says playfully while grabbing my wrist. then, he brings it to his mouth and licks it off my fingertip without one of us breaking eye contact for a single second. holy. fuck. afterwards, he laughs softly, my heart rate going crazy, “want some? i only have the best.” i shake my head, choosing to keep my drifting lucidity.
my gaze travels down his body until reaching his tattooed arm. “you like ‘em?” “i dont see many people around who have them” “yeah…bunch of pussies. these didnt hurt at all, you know.” the smugness of his words an obvious sign of his eagerness to impress. “you got more?” “oohh, someone’s interested…” i scoff finding his teasing annoying, yet unable to deny the way i have to press my lips together to hold back a smile. “i love tattoos” “yeah? wanna touch?” his comments come off so nonchalantly, flirting a natural habit of his. “i mean, you've already gone for my mouth...” his voice lowers a bit, having the clearly much-expected effect on me, and i give in, my yearning taking my fingers to his arm. the smooth and steamy flesh welcomes me with a satisfying shiver, and the hitch of his breath makes me slow down, caressing softly, seductively.
i don't know if he's trying to contain himself, or enjoying it too much, but i see him biting his lip, and it feels so good to find a tiny crack in his confident facade, the growing heat in my belly seconding it. the initial trace of ink becomes a search of his now more prominent veins, up and down. “i like how it looks.” i give him a final graze, but this time it’s my hand that strokes his arm all the way down his slender, ring-adorned fingers which i hold and toy with before letting go to replace them with my drink, leaving him all greedy for more. his skin on fire.
he’s affected now, trying to break the spell, attempting to somehow regain control while his breathing’s all over the place. cute.
the drink sugars my senses, but it’s not nearly as sweet as the feel of him.
“you like the club?” he goes back to his usual self, his comfort zone, something he can proudly show off. “yeah, i like the ambience” “i can show you around…this place’s my second home.” i know what he's doing, using an excuse to move this somewhere quieter, more private, more comfortable…. but i decide to play a bit with him. “i don’t know… i'm really enjoying this area.” he smirks, “and it only gets better, we don't leave the best within reach of just anyone”, getting closer. “so you’re saying you'll make it worth my time?” he pokes his cheek with his tongue, turning me on even more. fucking tease. “in fact you'll regret it if you don't come.” “mmm…im not sure…maybe i need a preview….” his face is mere millimeters from mine, giving me a perfect view of the mischievous look that takes over his. then, he grabs a small bag from his pocket -more white powder- and pushes my hair away from my shoulder, the contact leaving goosebumps everywhere. when the bareness pleases him, an unfamiliar feeling covers my skin. and then i realize, he’s pouring it on me. jesus christ. he leaves a shivery trail up to my neck, molding it to get a perfect line. his hot breath is getting me dizzy, his hand enveloping the other side of my neck, his allure a dangerous mix with the alcohol. he snorts the line in one, the tip of his nose tickling my burning skin. “yesss, shit baby”, he groans huskily underneath my ear, adding a bit of pressure with his hand, and i feel my wetness starting to become uncomfortable.
he’s laughing when he pulls back, “how’s that for a preview?”, finishing rubbing the remains of his nose. but i can only focus on his fingers, fuck. i need more. “not bad” i try so hard to think of something witty, flirty, to keep the back and forth going, but i can’t. my brain is foggy, my body is flaming, and my belly is killing me with all those damn backflips. “not bad? that’s not nice of you….imma have to do something about that attitude of yours…” i stand up from the stool, suddenly desperate to get out of there. “maybe i do need that tour, a change from the loud music and everything” god i’ve truly become pathetic. and it seems to amuse him, “yeah? i thought you liked the ambience here….” “and i thought you said you’d make it worth my time” i make him smirk again, what a damn sight, and before i know it he’s taking me who knows where.
the moment the door closes behind us, my back is pushed to the wall, his arms caging me. this time, his eyes stay on my lips while he bites his. “fuck, you’re so hot” i can’t hold it anymore. the praise gets to him and makes him snap, harshly pressing our mouths together. the kiss is rough, desperate, as if we were running out of time. i let out a muffled moan as he brings me closer to his warm body and slides one hand towards my neck, adding some pressure. i’ve never had such a messy, intense kiss before, it makes my legs weak. he keeps asserting dominance the whole time, and bites my lip before pulling back and heading towards my neck.
my moans get louder as i feel him leaving hickeys all over my skin. “it’s namgyu”, he corrects me, hovering over my flesh. but the blood is already pounding in my ears. “huh?”
content warning: fem!viewer. these are explicit smut videos, watch at your own risk. you have been warned! if you don’t like this, don’t watch.
author’s note: well well well, seems like y’all enjoyed PART 1!!, cause i got many requests for more hehe. and honestly, i’m more than happy to feed you. make sure to be logged into twt/x beforehand, if some of the links stop working let me know. enjoy <3
〇 salesman (recruiter)
the funnier version of russian roulette
proving you he owns you now
△ inho (frontman) / sangwoo (218)
size kink through the roof
good girl
□ thanos (230)
this is the way he lets you ride him
he was feeling a bit softer
some car sex, why not
shhhhh
till you’re drooling
why were you dancing with those men?
〇 thanos + namgyu (230 + 124)
apologizing for voting x
△ namgyu (124)
me next who said that?
y’all im obsessed with his tattoos help
he’s got a crazy oral kink
softer days
make up sex
he’s such a tease
□ junho (police)
he’s so good to you
love language
〇 myunggi (333)
because he’ll never share you
△ pink guard
he’ll tell you what the next game is in return
□ gyeong-seok (246)
fav position?
lingerie kink
your pleasure’s his priority
deep and nice
〇 hyun-ju (120)
right after hearing you had a shitty day
you’ll be late to the dinner…
she lives for having you sit on her face
@stariou @unapersona0818 i hope they’re good enough and you enjoy them <3
content warning: fem!viewer. these are explicit smut videos, watch at your own risk. you have been warned! if you don’t like this, don’t watch.
author’s note: i’ve been seeing so many twitter links posts for different fandoms so i decided to do one for squid game. make sure to be logged into twt/x beforehand, if some of the links stop working let me know. this was so much fun hehe. enjoy <3
want more? check out part 2❤️🔥
〇 salesman / recruiter tw: bdsm
he never makes love, he fucks, like he hates you
you better take it all
△ in-ho / frontman (001)
he gets so hard watching you play the games
relieving stress on his limousine
too big
□ thanos + nam-gyu (230 + 124)
they didn’t like your vote, they’ll change your mind
“see? you can’t vote x. staying here is way better”
〇 thanos (230)
he likes it rough
loves doggy
△ nam-gyu (124)
the way he talks is sooo namgyu, your throat around his cock + degradation? perfect combo
im telling you he has an obsession with your mouth
□ jun-ho / police officer
after a nightmare he had to make sure you were good
passionate and loving
taking care of you after a long day
〇 sang-woo (218)
you asked your hot professor for help, this is how it went :p
thinking about you
△ dae-ho (388)
he’s a MUNCH
matches your freak
□ min-su (125)
mommy kink going crazy
type of shit he deserves pt 1
pt 2
〇 myung-gi (333)
he’s an asshole
△ pink guards
being their favorite player <3
you literally have them wrapped around your little finger
content warning: gn!reader (married). comfort, fluff. his illness and cheating are mentioned.
word count: 349 ^^
author's note: the emperors' hype is dying, you say? not on my blog. this will ALWAYS be a caracalla fan account, and im gonna post more about him, i promise. i just got distracted with season two of squid game which i'm also gonna post more about (it'll be about the pink guards hehe). anyways, i think no one is gonna read this but i hope im wrong SJKSJSK. ps: english is not my mother language, im sorry for the mistakes. enjoyyy <3
divider by @saradika-graphics !!
his fluffy and slightly messy ginger locks act like the softest of silks around my fingers. the soothing gesture slowly bringing him back, melting away the agitation. all showing on the loosening of his shoulder muscles, his now even breathing, and the way he leans into my touch, seeking that unwavering love i so unconditionally provide.
“what…did i say this time?” he asks the question slowly, with caution, almost absentmindedly. i don’t know what makes me feel worse: the fact he doesn’t remember or the way he wants to. “do not worry about it.” my hand does not cease its movement. “i…i wish to know.” he shifts, pressing his head on my lap more onto my stomach, as if bracing himself. i have never enjoyed these conversations, loathing how much self-deprecation they bring. if he’s lucky enough to forget, why would i plague his mind again?
“you questioned spoke about my loyalty, my fealty”, as usual, “stated i would fancy the idea of leaving you, which i will never”, i assure him firmly. fortunately, his words don’t pierce my heart anymore. i do not let them, for it is not my husband who utters them. “they shall not get to your head, i… i did not…” i know how difficult such words are for him, acknowledging the illness that slowly rots all he has ever been.
“love, don’t concern yourself. i feel all right, what matters to me is that you do. i am already aware that you do not mean any of it.” some masters warned me i would tire of so much consolation, but it comes easy when the love is pure, i believe. “thank you, my love. i assume it is not effortless”, he continues with a sigh, “but you must know how highly i value your company and patience. it warms me”, his embrace tightens around me, as if reinforcing the genuine confession. “that will on no occasion change, you have me forever”, i say with a loving smile before pressing a soft kiss to his head. boyish giggles surround us, delightedly squeezing our hearts.
content warning: gn!reader who plays as number 028. (dating) angst. mentions of death, financial struggles, vomit, blood and fainting.
word count: 1935. i got a bit too carried away 😬
author’s note: finally, here it is. i’ve had this idea for so long but the universe wasn’t on my side, it seems. i really wanted to post it sooner 🥲. as always, constructive criticism is welcomed, and i apologize for the mistakes (english is my third language). oh, and tysm for the support on the jun-ho headcanons post! what do you mean over 1000 likes? that is insane 🤧🤧. i hope you’ll enjoy this one too. 🩷🩷🩷🩷
the sugary umbrella lays on your shaky hand, under the excruciating yet unmasked gaze of the soldier. once the ‘pass’ is given, you stand up ready to get out of there. “you made it!” the voice of the one that has become the closest thing to a friend you could have in here relaxes you ever so slightly. “i almost didn’t. can’t believe i’m adding umbrellas to my traumas list.” having chosen the hardest doesn't surprise you much, not with unluckiness being a part of your life since you can remember. “well, im just happy you did. i thought the square was simple, but now i feel like we should have just chosen the triangle instead, you know? take a look at the survivors; most of them chose it and….” his words fade as an eerie feeling takes over your body, like something’s wrong. turning around, you’re met with one of them, staring right at you completely stiff, not even holding the weapon, merely some feet away.
“is he looking at us?” he can sense the uneasiness too, it seems. “let’s just go.” you can still feel his unfamiliar gaze on your neck, sending a shiver down your spine.
the doors opening break the silence and the rare calmness of the room. “player 028?” your body freezes completely. a stomach drop follows, and your heart rate skyrockets. no. nonono. you’ve done nothing wrong. is it the dalgona? the figure was perfectly carved out; you made sure of it. are they gonna kill you? two soldiers stand by the entrance, waiting. with a final glance at your friend, who is most definitely thinking the same, you reach the pink guards. you don’t even know what to say, should you beg for mercy? try to stay as cooperative as possible? “be quick.” what? the other one grabs your arm and begins to lead you somewhere. “i-i don’t-” your hands are shaking. “please, i didn’t do anything wrong...” begging it is. “keep. walking.” the words are almost a whisper, tho demanding. a hint of desperation can be heard as well. “okay, okay, ok-” wait. why did those words- no. you’re going crazy. it’s just the anxiety, the fear.
the stranger takes you to the bathrooms and quickly closes the door. you step back. again. and once more. what now? he wouldn’t shoot you here, right? and why the hell does he look so tense? his hands move to his mask and make it disappear, and with it, the remaining bit of sanity you had.
the nausea from a few seconds ago comes back stronger, maybe you will die today. “jun-ho…” your voice is almost unrecognizable, tho a miracle, given the struggle breathing has become. “what are you doing here?” “i could ask you the same thing.” he’s angry, of course he is, but the hurt in his eyes pains you the most. “no….you need to get out of here.” god. you can feel yourself spiraling. nothing makes sense. “i will. and im taking you with me.” “h-how- when did- i-“ cold sweat has completely taken over your palms. “wait….wait. was it you?…. this morning?” he nods. “i found the damn card they gave you at yours and my brother’s house” what? “in-ho…?” why does everything keep getting worse? “have you seen him?” surely you would remember something like that, “n-no. maybe before the first game…..” you heed your legs’ warning to give up and sit down. “why are you doing this? i dont understand.” it’s not like he could. “they let you out. and you didn’t seek me. you hid yourself. again. i had to learn what was going on from a random man at the station. not you!!” silence between you had never felt this suffocating before, nor the atmosphere so uncanny. “don’t you realize how dangerous this is? they are killing innocent people! haven’t you realized?! 79 have died today. just because of a stupid cookie? what do you think you are doing?! you could have gotten yourself killed! you have no idea how worried i’ve been.” you don’t look at him. this shouldn’t be happening, he wasn’t supposed to find out.
“please, honey. this is insane and you know it. let’s get out of this madness.” the change in his tone of voice is evident, bordering the plea. it’s obvious he’s making an effort to remain calm, to use less confrontational comments. “i can’t.” “yes, you can. we’ll leave the same way i got here, don’t worry. no one will see us.” but you really can’t. you know that well. he sighs, “why didnt you tell me? how could you hide something like this from me? i thought we trusted each other.”
distress seems to have replaced the blood running through your veins. “i would have helped you, always. i can still do it. if you need money, i’ll give it to you, it’s not a problem.” he keeps going after your negative. “i will. we can find another way-” “there isn't.” “of course there is. i have my savings, we’ll use them. i can ask for a raise. mr kim owes me after all this time. and i could do more hours-”
“its not FUCKING ENOUGH!” the sharpness of your words cuts all over his face. pain flows out, dripping a bloody red. more silence. you could drown in it. well, in for a penny, in for a pound.
“my parents’ house is gonna get seized.” a burning throat accompanies the confession. “i messed up like crazy.” the expected embarrassment doesn’t show up, instead, regret does. “it’s not your fault.” how can he say that? “it is. i got them into this, I'll get them out.” “and you think risking your life here is the only way to do it? thats not true. god, why didn’t you tell me?” you rub your temple. “that doesn’t matter now. you-you need to get out, all this is suspicious.” you are not only trying to avoid the question, the guards could notice at any moment. “i told them you were gonna throw up.” “vomit or not you’re still in the bathroom with a player.” for some seconds, the only noise that can be heard is the shatter of your heart. “honey, listen to me. your parents wouldn’t want this. they don’t even blame you, im sure. how could they ever wish for something at the expense of their daughter’s life?” but the guilt is too heavy, too imprinted on your mind. “it’s not about me. if it were my house, i wouldn’t care, but it’s theirs. i would never forgive myself for not doing anything.” “and there are so many things you could do that don’t need you participating in some psychopaths’ games! do you really not see how dangerous and demented this is? please leave with me.” “jun-ho. think about it. if i ended up here, even after they gave us a second chance, it’s because i want to. no one forced me, and i’m old enough to know what i’m doing.” your replies are getting colder, which you hate. but it’s the only way to make him understand. “besides, they’re all kids' games. they’re easy.” you can only hope he won’t sense your attempt at self-persuasion. “they are shooting people. you could be dead. and i would have never seen you again, or known what had happened.” the urge to cry gets stronger with every word, to dive into his arms and finally feel some sort of calmness, warmth, love.
“i’m sorry that i hurt you, that i made you worry and feel like i couldn’t trust you. but i won’t apologize for being here.” “i don’t want you to apologize. i only want you to get out of here and not die.” his desperation has increased so much it’s swallowed your own distress. “i’ve already won two, i can make it to the end.” you refute. but you read him easily, he is planning to get you out without your agreement, somehow.
“please.” now it’s you that pleads. “if you love me, let me stay.”
his eyes widen, you see them watering. his heartbreak drowns out yours. you are aware you’ve never said anything as painful before. it hurts. more than anything they could do to you here. perhaps you are already dead. “how can you ask me something like this?” maybe you’re desperate, or too blinded by the blame that’s rotting on your insides. or perhaps it’s love. “get out of here. stay safe. and don’t tell the police, jun-ho. don’t even think about stopping the games. i need this, don’t ruin it.” god you don’t recognize yourself anymore. how nice it would be to go back when things were easy. when remorse didn’t control yourself, and you were happy with him. “what do you expect me to do if you die?” “i won’t” “you can’t know that! how can i let the love of my life risk it all when i know i could do something?” understanding such perspective is effortless. if it were the other way around, you too would act like he is.
you approach him for the first time, god how you craved it. your hands cup his pained yet beautiful face and a tear drops. “i missed you.” he says quietly, unable to stay angry at you for long. “i missed you too.” you answer back, wiping the tear. “i missed your face, your voice, your touch. i miss your kisses.” things already ache enough like this, so you give in. the kiss is soft, so fragile, like a bit more intensity would make it disappear. “i love you.” he whispers resting his forehead on yours. “i love you too.”
a knock on the door destroys the illusion. shit. “lay on the floor.” “what?” “lay on the floor”, he repeats, walking towards the door while putting his mask back on, “and play along.” the door opens and the same voice from earlier speaks. “what do you think you’re doing in there?” may that unluckiness give you a rest for some minutes. “she passed out. she was taking too long and not answering back so i entered and found her unconscious.” footsteps grow louder. “player 028…. i don’t remember any health issues on the file… fuck.” you stay as still as possible, it sounds plausible, given the stress. “take care of it, i’ll let the boss know. and don’t take longer.” with that, he exits the room, and you thank his unwillingness to deal with sensitive issues.
sitting back up, jun-ho kneels to your level. “you look good for a faint.” a hint of a smile appears on your face. “are you mad at me?” “i was. mostly worried. i don’t like this at all.” you grab his gloved hands. “i’ll be okay, believe me.” he doesn’t. he can’t. “please, be careful. and think about it. if you change your mind, i’ll be waiting.” you won’t. you wouldn’t let yourself. but you nod. “you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me. i hope you’ll carry that with you. i love you so damn much.” his voice breaks, and you tell yourself it’s time to go back, this conversation can only get more and more devastating for you both. you offer the bleeding and broken pieces of your heart. not meaning to cut him this time. and he takes them. how could he not treasure them? you kiss again. it tastes different this time. like farewell.
and when you get out of the room, you both know that was the last time you’ll see each other.
prguitarman
stormborns
yousharknotpass
blakekathryn
dailybridgerton
