#he put himself in danger so that heavy would hold him didn’t he. that’s something his gay ass would do

[stevesjockstrap]

Alone on Thanksgiving? Mad at your dad?

Based on this post

Or, Steve invites Craigslist!Eddie to Thanksgiving as his fake boyfriend for entertainment and drama purposes

Rated: T? Always with the swearing idk | read on ao3

ETA a/n: shout out to @rocknrollsalad for a direct quote in here and putting up with me and @machtaholic for encouraging this 🖤

“Are you serious?”

Steve sighed. “Yes, Robbie. You know how much my parents have been on me since they’re losing what little power they have left. This is going to be awesome.”

She was pacing around their living room, making him anxious. “But why are you going to take this stranger from Craigslist? Why can’t you find someone you know? Argyle would do it. What if this guy doesn’t show, or he comes and steals something?”

“If he doesn’t show I’m in the same boat anyhow, but hey, there’s a thought. You think I can pay him more to steal something from my parents? I’d love to see that.”

“Steve!” She rounded on him, eyes wide. “You’re paying him? You didn’t tell me that!”

“For fuck’s sake, Rob. He didn’t ask for money, the post actually said he would do it just for food. But the guy’s driving half an hour and I’m willing to bet my family is worse than he’s expecting. Sit down, you’re making me dizzy. Read this and tell me this isn’t exactly what I need.” He scrolled on his phone and handed it to her.

Her shoulders relaxed as she read on, laughing finally, “You’re not going to make him propose or fight your dad on the front lawn, right?”

“Maybe for Christmas,” he smirked.

His parent’s house was always so cold and empty. It was his childhood home but he had never really felt any attachment to it. His apartment with Robin was small and cluttered but cozy, and full of memories of them and their friends. They had done a Friendsgiving the previous weekend that had been a dangerously good time. (The smoke detector had only gone off three times, a new record.)

Running his hand through his hair again, he looked at the clock. Would Eddie show? He checked his phone again, knowing there were no missed texts because he had just looked thirty seconds ago. Why was he more nervous about meeting him than introducing him to his family? They’d had one phone call and some texts, mostly arranging the time and place and Steve already apologizing for his family.

Eddie had laughed, “It’s okay, Steve. Trust me, I’ve dealt with worse.”

He went to the bathroom, just to kill time.

And of course the doorbell rang.

He quickly washed and dried his hands, sparing a second to pull his hair into a less raked-through mess.

Quickening his pace when he saw his mom still holding the door open, not allowing whoever was on the stoop in, he craned his neck to see out the door.

Oh fuck.

“If you’d just go get him, ma’am, we could clear this all up,” Eddie was saying. The words were polite but there was an edge to them, just the tinge of a sneer on his lips. It was perfect.

“He’s mine,” he heard himself say. His mom whipped around, eyes crazed and mouth open. “Uh- I mean,” his eyes returned to Eddie standing on his doorstep. Taking in the long thick wavy hair, big brown eyes, his lips pulled into a toothy grin now. He’d clearly attempted to dress up, grey slacks and a black button down, paired with heavy combat boots. The sleeves were rolled up to reveal tattoos up his forearms and the backs of his hands. There were more tattoos on his neck, and Steve’s eyes glued themselves to the ring through his lip. Guh. “He’s, uh, here for me.”

“Hi Steve,” he watched the lips form. “Was just meeting your lovely mother.” Again there was nothing wrong with the words themselves, nothing anyone could pinpoint or take offense to. But that slithery way he said it with a razor sharp sting, Steve was impressed. He was clearly an expert at this.

Steve tried to school his own expression and voice. “My apologies. Mom, this is Eddie, my boyfriend.”

There was a long silence where he thought his mom was going to combust. She opened and closed her mouth several times, her eyebrows furrowed. He’d never seen her speechless before.

Eddie sent him a smirk and he almost matched it but his mom looked at him finally and stammered, “Y-your, ah, I’m sorry.” She closed her eyes and pulled in a steadying breath. When she opened them she asked, “He’s your boyfriend?”

“Yes ma’am,” Eddie answered from almost behind her now as she turned to question Steve.

“And why is it you didn’t tell us he was coming? Why is he ringing the doorbell like a stranger?”

“I, um, well I did think he’d text when he got here or something…” Steve started, meeting Eddie’s eyes over her shoulder.

“What, and miss out on this warm welcome?” Eddie winked at him but quickly settled his face when his mom turned to him. Doing the exact thing he’d hoped for, Mrs. Harrington remembering she’s leaving a guest out on her doorstep.

Steve delighted in the fact that this was going to be a chess match and his mother was already several moves behind.

Her eyes narrowed and she held a hand out to welcome Eddie in, walking them all into the foyer. “Well, don’t let me stop you, go ahead and greet your boyfriend, Steven.”

It was a challenge, he knew, but they hadn’t discussed this. Eddie was on the ball, however. He continued his momentum to slide a hand under Steve’s suit jacket to settle on his ribs and the other he brought up to cup his face, leaning in and angling their heads together. Steve tried to relax and closed his eyes. Eddie pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth, but from where his mom was standing she wouldn’t be able to tell.

“Hey, baby. Missed you,” he breathed when he pulled away. Steve was halfway to believing this himself.

“Yeah,” he sighed stupidly.

Eddie pulled his hands away and he almost reached back for them before stopping himself with a shake. He found he’d only gone a foot away when he opened his eyes though. Oh he was in trouble.

His mother cleared her throat from behind Eddie like she hadn’t put them up to this. Steve reached out for his hand and held onto it.

“Okay so I’m going to go introduce him to everyone else,” he said quickly and walked further into the house. Holding his hand.

They made their way through the dining room, Steve taking more and more pleasure with each stilted interaction Eddie weaved through with his family members.

His dad was propped in the living room with his uncle and Steve could feel his eyes on him as they made their way around. He knew his mother had ran to tell him all about it but he wouldn’t take being ignored well. It was making his skin crawl but he knew it would further piss off his dad so he kept it up.

After everyone else had been formally introduced to Eddie and Steve had gulped half a glass of wine, he felt almost ready to go deal with him. He took Eddie’s hand again and turned, but navigated them to the sliding glass door and outside instead.

It was chilly, late November in Indiana, but it felt amazing after the stuffiness of the house.

Steve remembered he still had Eddie’s hand in his and he quickly dropped it. “Uh, you smoke?”

Eddie grinned, all teeth and tongue as he held a battered pack of Newports out to him. “Not usually, really, but it makes for a good prop. Sorry they’re shit.”

“Holy shit. You’re amazing. I mean- perfect, I mean- fuck.” Steve laughed and shook his head. “The on-the-spot fact checking of my aunt’s political shit was next level. You could do this year round and make a killing, man.” He did pull a cigarette out of the pack and Eddie leaned into him, clicking the lighter for him, meeting his eyes as Steve sucked in.

“I don’t-“

The door slid open behind them and Mr. Harrington walked out.

“Looks like you and your date are avoiding me, Steven,” he said. Steve watched as he gave Eddie a very slow up and down look.

“No, dad. Just needed a break. It’s warm in there.” He made his face remain neutral. It’s not like anyone was cooking anything, his mom always got their big family meals catered.

His dad narrowed his eyes at him as he held eye contact, taking a drag from his bummed cigarette.

“Where is Robin today?”

He sighed. “With her family, dad. And for the last time, I’m not dating Robin. She’s a lesbian. This is Eddie, by the way. My date? He’s my boyfriend.”

When Steve had tried to come out as bisexual to his parents, his dad especially had made it clear that he did not accept that about his only child. As the years went on and he hadn’t spoken much about this part of his life, it seemed his dad had hoped it just went away.

Mr. Harrington scoffed, “I don’t understand why you want to throw your life away, Steven. I thought we’d raised you better-“ Eddie made a noise next to him and Steve knew he couldn’t look at him or he’d burst out laughing.

“Save it, dad. Believe it or not I love my life. Which is something I’d never thought I would be able to say. Can you even say that?”

His dad shook his head disappointedly and walked back inside.

“Excellent job. I don’t think you need me here after all,” Eddie joked.

Steve propped himself against the wall of the house, deeply tired from having to defend his choices to his dad for the umpteenth time.

“Maybe not need. But it’s been really fun having you here. Usually dinner conversation is about how big of a disappointment I am. Oh, I guess I didn’t give you that backstory. I’m graduating with my masters in psychology in the spring, and I’ve been early accepted into a PhD program. And there’s no money in helping people,” he chuckled. “So.” He scuffed out the butt with his heel and left it on his dad’s pristine patio.

“Steve. That’s amazing! Congratulations.” Eddie seemed genuinely excited for him and it brought a small smile to his face. “You look like you could really use a hug, man. Can I hug you?”

“Of course.” If he let himself hold on for a few seconds longer than strictly necessary, Eddie allowed it.

Dinner was quiet. His uncle asked Eddie what he did for work and he enthusiastically explained he was a line cook and worked nights at a bar. Steve surreptitiously looked around to take in everyone’s expressions and quickly covered his mouth with his napkin. He actually enjoyed himself during a holiday dinner for the first time he could remember.

Eddie at one point threw an arm around the back of his chair and he leaned in a bit into him, catching the disapproving stares they got from the corner of his eye.

Pie was passed around and by then Steve had had another glass of wine or two. He reached over to thumb the whipped cream from the side of Eddie’s lip without thinking, before popping the thumb into his own mouth. Eddie’s eyes widened and it was on the tip of his tongue to apologize but he caught himself.

“Thanks, babe,” Eddie said with a chuckle.

After saying their awkward goodbyes to everyone, Steve walked Eddie to his van. He looked down at his feet, fiddling with his keys.

“Hey, um, this may be out of left field and let me know if it’s too much, okay?” Eddie waited for Steve to nod. “Do you want to come to my uncle’s with me tomorrow night? It’s just the two of us and he always volunteers to work the holiday. But we do a thing, you know. A-and he’s always bugging me to bring someone.”

Steve blinked. “Would it have to be a fake date? I’m not as skilled at that as you are.”

“No, I mean, it wouldn’t- god I suck. I’m actually asking, like for real. If that’s okay? Just be you. And I’ll just be me.”

“That’s very okay. I’d really like that.” He couldn’t hold back his smile. Taking the chance, he leaned in, Eddie meeting him in the middle to finally press their lips together.

#mine #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #pre Steddie #stranger things #stranger things fic #Steve x Eddie #Steve/eddie

[eupheme]

— mine, all mine

cooper howard/the ghoul x f!reader

rated e - 4.2k

tags: jealous!cooper, sort-of alternate timeline (includes a fo4 character for fun), partners-with-benefits, mutual yearning, light angst, fingering, oral sex, one pussy slap, come marking

prompt: something where he's possessive and jealous. anything that would cause a man like The Ghoul to get jealous. He needs to remind everyone (including her) who she belongs to.

Cooper doesn’t take kindly to the man you picked up, even if he himself had made the deal to escort him to New Vegas. Not liking their old-world charm, that easy smile. Can’t be up to any good, and he hates that you might be falling for it.

It has him thinking that he just might have to remind you of a few things. Set you straight. Make sure you don’t forget who you belong to.

You can’t help the little laugh that bubbles in your throat, as you follow through the door at Cooper’s heels.

Seeking shelter for the night, after a long day on the road. Something different than the usual bounty. Escorting a man through the Mojave Wasteland, to New Vegas. Following another lead, they had said.

He had seemed capable enough, but didn’t know the area. His home was far to the east, not used to the harsh desert sun, the creatures that lurked here. A heavy bag of caps offered that neither one of you could say no to. Enough to buy a couple months worth of vials, and that meant more to you than anything.

“No shit. It really worked?” You glance back at the man from over your shoulder. The handle of your gun a familiar weight in your hand, as you check the hallways after your partner, “You really were him, costume and everything?”

“The Silver Shroud, in the flesh.” Nate flashes you a straight, white-toothed smile, “Calling cards and everything.”

Your head shakes in amazement. He was interesting - full of stories that didn’t seem possible to be true. Leader of the Minutemen. A retired veteran from before - or so he tells you.

Hard to believe such a thing could be true. It has you distracted - your boot catching on an overturned side table, a set of chairs.

A little yelp as you tilt off-balance. The Ghoul turning, a gloved hand stretching out out - but there’s already another at the small of your back, another at your elbow.

“Careful now, sugarbomb.” Nate huffs in your ear, steadying you until you catch your balance.

It has heat flaring in your cheeks - at his words and how you embarrassed yourself in front of both of them. Ignoring the hand, and winding yourself free, giving the mess of furniture a wide berth instead of stepping over as they did.

“Did you hear about him on the radio?” You ask Cooper instead, trying to change the subject.

Instead of an answer, the Ghoul gives you a rough grunt. Turning away from you, fingers tracing over the thick bullets lined up in his bandolier.

“Gonna sweep the second floor.” He rasps, “Stay put, alright?”

He must not have heard you, too busy concentrating on clearing the space.

You nod, a little flutter in your belly at his words as he leaves you. A hint of protection in them, layered deep. He hadn’t spoken much since he picked up this job. Eyes always watchful, fingers curled around the handle of his gun.

But you didn’t think there was anything too dangerous about Nate. He seemed nice - filling the space that you leave for him with his stories. The days traveling has been spent quickly, and you couldn’t help but feel sorry when you hear how he’d lost everything.

His wife, and his son. Waking up after it was all over - alone.

You wonder how he could press on, be so cheerful now. But you suppose someone could learn to shoulder a lot, after so many years had passed.

It has you shivering, in the old apartment. Thick brick walls - the radiators are long dead, the cold seeping through the cracks in the window panes.

“Hey.” You hear behind you. Nate’s shoulders flexing as he peels his leather bomber jacket off, fingers hooking under the collar as he holds it out to you.

The worn vault suit underneath clings tight to his chest. Silver threading through his dark hair, peppering his beard at the curve of his chin. Handsome, in an old-world way - something you haven’t been able to help noticing.

Not that you’re interested.

It’s only because he makes you think of him, a little. The same strange way of saying things. Phrases you don’t know from your time growing up in the wasteland.

And you can’t pretend you haven’t wondered, just a tiny bit. What Cooper might have been like, before.

Part of you had thought that would make them a little more friendly - that point of connection between them - but the Ghoul has been wrapped up in thorns for days now.

Distant even, but you think you get it. Suppose he thinks it’s safer, this way.

“Oh,” It takes you a second to accept his offering. Not used to generosity without a price. A soft sigh when you shrug it on - the fabric warmed by his body heat, “Thank you. Are you sure? It’s just, these old buildings-”

“This is almost warm compared to where I come from,” He smiles, shooting you a wink, “Least I can do, with what you’re doing for me.”

There’s a sweep of his eyes, as your hands slip through the sleeves - a considering tilt of his head, “Looks better on you, anyways.”

The compliment sends an uneasy ripple across your skin, a warm heat in your cheeks. His easy charm sets you on edge - not used to words and tones like his. Not knowing what to do with it - your eyes flicking towards the staircase.

There’s a pause, before he’s inhaling a breath.

“Listen. About your… associate,” Nate takes a step towards you, his voice lowering, “I don’t know if you owe him caps or something, but if you need to split, you’re welcome to come with me.”

It stuns you for a second. How he thinks you might need help, that you’re indebted.

“Oh!” You manage - that eye contact breaking, as you search for words, “I’m not. We’re actually, uh-”

But you don’t have a straight answer. Involved, perhaps. You wouldn’t say together, as much as you wished it would be. Companions is too soft a word for the path you travel together.

His word - associate - too formal.

“Really?” Nate’s voice tips up - just before his eyes dip down you and back up, in a quick circuit, “Huh. Good for him, then.”

The silence that lingers is stilted. His hands raise, with the lift of your brow.

“Didn’t mean any harm,” He adds, easily, “Just, if you change your mind… it’d be good to have you on the road with me.”

Leaving you then - letting the offer hang as he pokes around in the side rooms.

Another thing that you had found fascinating - the junk that he carries with him. Not just old tape but bottles of adhesive, cans of oil. Broken hot plates, all tucked into his bag.

Your head shakes, as you move deeper.

Winding your way into the kitchen, picking through broken cabinets - snatching up cans of cram. Ending up in a study, through another door.

Books spill from the shelves. There’s an old, deep desk bumped up near a wall, the upholstered chair toppled over next to it.

A few of the novels catch your eye - nose dipping to inhale the familiar, musty smell of the pages as you crouch. Thumbing through them, trying to pick one or two to keep.

Engrossed enough that you don’t hear the creak of boots on wood. The low jangle of spurs, until the door is closing shut behind you.

There’s a slow, upward pull of your eyes, until you see the way he looms over you - eyes narrowing. A hard set to his jaw, a hand that curls around your bicep as he tugs you up and onto your feet.

“Something wrong?” You ask, as you catch the pull of his brow bone, “With the house, is it safe?”

“House’s fine,” He grits. A hand tracing up the zipper of the jacket, curling around the collar.

The frown deepens, as his eyes drag over you, “You take this off the Vaultie?”

Your eyebrows raise, “I didn’t take it off him. He gave it to me because I was cold.”

He clicks his tongue at that, one side of his lip curling. Stepping into your space, until you’re bumping up against that desk.

“Can’t leave you alone for a goddamn minute, can I?” Cooper growls.

Fingers tracing up your sides until they’re fitting beneath the fabric at your shoulders, pushing the worn leather from them.

“What do you mean?” You frown - letting him. The evening chill isn’t so bad in here, the room tucked deeper into the house. No windows to let the evening air in.

“You know exactly what I mean, sugarbomb.” He drawls, acid in his tone, “Smoothie can’t keep his hands off you.”

The jacket pools on the desk, a flick of his wrist sending it to the floor. You don’t know why the Ghoul is so angry - not when he’s made it clear this something between you is just a diversion.

Nothing more than business mixing with pleasure.

“It’s not like that.” You protest, though your mind flickers back to before. Cheeks burning as you shift back, but follows - crowding you, “He’s looking for his son.”

It has your hip pressing against a desk, his own fitting against yours. Hands flattening against the top of the desk, as he leans over you.

“Lookin’ to get his dick wet, more like.” His words are a low growl, “‘Sides, is that all it takes you get you starry-eyed? Fella lookin’ for his kid?”

There’s something in the way he says it. A tick in his jaw, the way his tone pushes at you. Needling deep, as if there’s something more to what he’s saying.

Your arms prop on your hips, “I’m not starry-eyed-”

“Aren’t you?” His head cocks, “You gonna be keepin’ his bedroll warm tonight, sweetheart?”

There’s mockery in his tone. A curl of his lip and bared teeth, all while his eyes catalog each and every expression.

Your hands press against his chest then, scoffing. Yes, Nate had flirted with you. Said you could come with him, but surely that wasn’t the reason why.

Was it?

“That’s ridiculous,” It comes out flustered, unconvincing, “He was married, he’s not-”

The Ghoul shifts, his hands fitting against your hips. Pushing, until you’re sitting on top of the desk, thighs spread so he can fit between them. Distracting you, though his look is no less fierce.

“That don’t mean much, sweetie,” He growls, “Key word here is was. Not gonna keep him from tryin’, I’ll tell you that much.”

And you think you get it now. His raised hackles from the very beginning, when Nate’s hand curled around yours.

Maybe he’d burn right up, if he had heard your conversation. You wonder if he caught any - drifting up through the floorboards. Sending him right down to you, to stake his claim.

It has you softening. Fingers hooking around the thick leather of his belt, tugging him flush.

“He can try all he wants, cowboy,” You shrug, looking at him from beneath your lashes, “It’s not gonna sway me. Was just being nice because he was.”

“Nice.” He echos, as his hands slip up to your waist. Fingers curling in the folds of your shirt, rocking you against him, “That what you think you want, sweetheart?”

There’s the dip of his head, and your eyes are closing. But he just hovers, close enough that you can feel the exhale of his breath. A jerk of his head when your chin tips up, seeking him.

“You think nice is gonna take care of you the way I do?” His hand drifts up - fitting at the curve of your ribs. Thumb brushing at your breast, as you suck in a breath.

“What are you doing?” You breathe, as your eyes open. A shiver at how close he is, how his crotch presses right against the seam of your pants.

His answer is a low rasp.

“Remindin’ you of a couple o’ things.”

There’s a familiarity in the way his other hand dips down. Those hazel eyes are still on yours, as he gives the button on your pants a sharp tug. A soft slide of the zipper.

Your fingers curl, holding on tightly. Anticipation sings in you, melding with the sharp flutter of nerves.

“W-We can’t,” It comes out as a stammer - your concentration torn. “He’s still-”

The Ghoul’s hand leaves you, but it’s only so his teeth can sink into the tip of a leather glove - the jerk of his head to pull his hand free. Already coming back to you, giving the fabric of your pants a sharp tug downwards.

“‘s cute you think I give a shit.” He husks - his eyes dark, as he jerks his chin towards your hips.

They seem to move on their own. A hum of approval as they lift - so he can tug both layers down to your ankles, leaving them to tangle with your boots.

His hands are warm as they trace back up your bare thighs. Soothing the chill - forever warmed by the radiation that lingers in him. Your thighs spread wider without thought, though his fingers linger.

Tracing the soft skin, just where your thigh meets hip. Close enough that surely he can feel the heat that lingers there - the scrape of his nails against sensitive skin sending up goosebumps, as his tongue pinches between teeth.

Eyes caught on how easily you open for him. The way you clench in anticipation, shifting into his touch.

Another protesting whimper falls from your lips, the ghost of a smile as his eyes flip up to yours.

“You’re gonna tell me you don’t want this,” His thumb twitches against you, ghosting along your slit, “When I can see you practically droolin’ for me?”

He lifts his hand for emphasis, casually examining the sheen that coats the pad of his thumb. Head cocked as he waits - dragging it slowly along the flat of his tongue.

“I do want it,” It’s hushed, though no less needy.

His tongue peeks out again. Pinched between teeth, before ghosting across a lower lip - the taste of you lingering. You expect him to bend you over the table, or lay you back against it.

Instead, his fingers pluck the hat from his head. Dropping it onto yours, the brim distorting your view as he bends. Crouching - his left knee pressing into the floorboards, as he situates himself between your thighs.

It has your breath hitching. Another exploration of his fingers, thumb pressing against your folds. Tugging you open, examining you, just like he’d do for a piece of found scrap.

Heat floods through you. There’s no mistaking that he’s still calling every shot, even when he’s on his knees.

“Then answer my question.” His voice takes on a sharp edge, those eyes back on yours, “You think he could give you what you need?”

From here, you can see the pretty fan of his eyelashes. The flecks of gold and green in his brown eyes, each little pitted scar and shiny stretch of skin.

Your head shakes.

“No.” Your thighs inch wider - hips bucking into his touch, “Only you, Cooper.”

He growls at the sound of his name, his hand coming to cup against your cunt. Fingers insistent, where they nudge at your opening. The tips of two sinking into your heat, ripping a muffled gasp from you.

A low hum, when he feels how wet you are. How you wrap so warm and tightly around him - an obscene sound as he presses them deep.

Unable to hide how he affects you, not when the pace picks up, until the heel of his hand is grinding against your clit. Until you’re dripping against his palm.

Your moan is bitten back. Fingers curling around the edge of the desk, needing something to hold onto.

His pace is steady, but he’s just teasing. Fingers merely filling you, stretching you out. No careful curl - just bringing you to hover on a plateau, leaving you to clench around him with desperation.

“Please,” You whine.

Relief then, as his fingers hook. Dragging against your spongy inner wall, as you whimper in approval.

“Yeah?” He hums - watching how your brows pinch, when his fingers flex again, “Change your mind about gettin’ fucked, honey?”

Teeth clicking together with your bitten-back whine, needing to feel more than just the unhurried crook of his fingers.

“Yes. I need more,” Your hips lift with your answer - bucking into his touch, “Need your cock, Cooper. I’ve missed it-”

A dirty trick, to use his name again.

To beg, like this.

He knows it, a heartbeat lingering before his fingers begin to move with purpose. The tilt of his head, and then - his tongue is flattening against your slit. Giving you something else, instead.

You cry out before you remember where you are - your hand quick to press against your mouth to muffle the sound.

He groans at the taste of you, as it floods his tongue. A dark glitter in his eyes, you think he did this on purpose. Trying to pull those sounds from you.

This thought solidified as he begins to devour you. Licking you from clit to hole, dipping between his knuckles. Working the muscle in until he can feel you clench around it too, his own groan caught in his throat. Coming back up - lips wrapping around the tight bud as you gasp, nails biting into wood as you moan.

Ones you still try to hide. Your breath sharp through your nose, palm pressed flat against your mouth. But it doesn’t stop the squeak of the desk as your hips move. The sticky plunge of his fingers, the wet lap of his tongue.

Something molten pooling inside you, red-hot. He knows how much you can take, how the stretch of his fingers slips into something honey-sweet.

His head rears back, as his eyes open. A sharp click of his tongue, before his left hand curls like a vice around your wrist. Capturing the other - fingers spreading wide as he pins them against your belly.

A smirk that grows wider - more sinister - when you realize you won’t be able to hide your sounds any longer. When all you can do is accept what he gives you.

“Oh, don’t hold back, sweetheart.” He coos - a rough breath, as he sees your jaw grit, eyes screwing shut, “Want him to hear just what I’m doin to you.”

A tilt of his head - slow in the way he returns to you. A pointed thrust of his fingers, another one slipping into you. Tongue flicking lazily, before spit is pooling on his tongue.

Pressing his fingers deep, as it falls from his lips. Dripping down your slit, before he’s sucking on your clit again.

The keen that pulls from you is loud. Drawn-out, your breath hissed through your teeth.

He grins into your cunt, the words murmured against your skin, “That’s more like it. Atta girl.”

Taking, as he gives.

Guilt lingers in you - thinking about Nate, wandering in the house. Hearing the muted moans and cries as you’re devoured against the desk. It has your lips pressing harder together, though it does nothing to mute the pleasure that winds higher and higher.

But he notices. Of course he does - fingers slipping free, curling against your clit before he’s pinching it between his fingertips. Teeth nipping at your inner thighs, marks blooming against your skin.

Another cry loosens, as your hips jerk.

“Now I know you want my cock, sweetheart. Asked for it so nicely, after all,” He husks, as his head tips up, “But you’re not gettin’ it till later.”

A threat and a promise, layered in the heavy pant of his breath.

“Plan on takin’ you by the fire. From three feet away, if I have to,” His smile is near-feral, “Let him hear how pretty your pussy sounds taking me. Knowin’ he can’t touch.”

You moan at his words. At the pet of his fingers - each breath short, growing louder as he brings you close to the edge. Keyed up enough over the past few days - leaving you desperate.

And you think that maybe - he just might be as well. It’s there in the way his shoulders curl in. The spread and rock of his own thighs, where you can see the tent of his hard cock.

That desire to make you come tipping into something that feels like need.

“You know why he can’t?” He coaxes, his words a slow drawl.

His fingers flattening when you’re slow to answer - pleasure-drunk, landing a harsh tap against your cunt that has you gasping in shock.

“Because…” You search for the words, grasping at their hazy shapes, “Because I’m yours.”

It comes so easily, the things you’ve thought but never said.

His knees shift, hips tilting on their own. A rough sound in his throat, as he watches how your lips form the words.

“That’s right,” Cooper coos, “Good fuckin’ girl. Knowing who she belongs to.”

It does something to you. That desire blooming into something tangible, racing from your thoughts to the needy throb of your clit.

He can hear the change in your breath. How it pitches high, drawn out. No longer holding it back - unable to, as your vision starts to go hazy.

“You liked that, sweetheart? Knowin’ that you’re owned?” He rasps, “Fuckin’ close, aren’t you. Gonna come?”

“Yes,” You chant, “Make me come. Cooper, please-”

His hand leaves your wrists - your palms curling into his jacket as he loosens his own belt. Fist wrapping around his cock as his tongue replaces the swirl of his fingers.

A whine - loud, in the quiet room - when those three fingers sink deep again, filling you. Only a few deep plunges of of his fingers before your breath is catching, eyes going wide.

The cry catches in your throat, coming out ragged. Unmistakable for anything else, as your pussy tightens around him - that thudding beat that starts low, rippling through you.

Pulsing against his tongue. Stealing your strength, leaving you boneless as your fingers anchor themselves against his shoulders.

He groans into your cunt, as he feels you gush against his palm. The way he can taste your release as it leaks against his knuckles, his tongue dipping down to taste.

Greedy again, with his gaze. Fixed on how wrecked you are - rumpled clothes, how you’re still speared on his fingers, thighs slick with need.

No one else can ruin you so thoroughly. You both know it - it’s enough that he lets go, chasing his own end. An unsteady push to his feet, as his fingers slip free.

His other hand flattening against your abdomen, pushing you back against the desk. A messy twist of his fist, seeing the gape his fingers left behind - that tension twisting, about to snap in his own belly.

His cock is coated in your release, when he comes. A feral snarl as his fist jerks - harkening back to your first few nights together. Back when he held back from spilling inside you, the vials too precious to spend on a stranger.

Fingers twitching against your belly, keeping you pinned as his own moan slips through his teeth. A needy buck of his hips into the tight curl of his hand, a cruel mockery of where he imagines it buried. But it’s enough - another rough sound before ropes of his spend arc across your mound.

Warm against your skin, as he covers you. Dripping down against your slit when he angles himself, making a mess of your slick pussy.

It already has anticipation simmering, deep inside. Unsure if he was being serious about later - but the thought of him taking you nice and slow, drawing it out - you might not be able to ever look Nate in the eye, but christ, it could be worth it.

Though something hangs heavy, as he comes back down. His head lowers from where it tipped back in pleasure. The slow drag of the tip of a finger through his release, glossy against your skin, before he finds the hem of your underwear. Tugging it back into place as you whine in protest.

“Hush, now.” He coos - stroking you over the thin fabric. Seeing how his come seeps in. A teasing circle against your clit, before his palm presses flush. Smearing himself against your cunt.

Staking a claim, you think. He’s always let you clean up before. And this isn’t a punishment, though the wait will be torture.

Fingers smooth the faded fabric when he’s content, his radiation-reddened fingers fitting against the soft curves of your hips.

And, maybe now you understand.

“I’m not going to leave you, you know.”

It’s quiet, breathed out as you gaze up at him.

He almost flinches. A different kind of shudder that runs through him, fingers pinching hard where they dent your flesh.

“You should,” His jaw grits. Voice low, the words coming out hoarse, “If you had any sense.”

But you both know you have none. Not when it comes to him.

Your hands fit in his, as he tugs you off the table. The snug fit of your pants as you tug them back into place, already feeling how he sticks against your skin.

Thoroughly marked. Unable to help the clench as you think about later - missing the fullness of his fingers already. A wobble to your legs - a hazy remnant from your orgasm - as you right yourself, fitting everything back into its place. Before stooping, to grab the jacket off the floor.

Cooper’s hand reaches out - fingers beckoning. His own duster already shrugging off his shoulders. Bundled up, as he holds it aloft.

“You get cold again, you tell me.”

It’s gruff. An offering, with the extension of his hand. Swapping the bomber jacket for his. The worn fabric enveloping you as you tug it on, that greedy look seeping back as he takes in how you look in his things.

A little nod, before he’s turning - making for the door.

Leaving you to follow behind, hiding your smile.

this started a couple different ways (flirting with a bounty or with a bartender) but I thought it would be interesting to have Cooper in a situation with a genuinely good guy (Nate is the MMC in FO4 if you choose his route!) because that would surely and truly drive him nuts (rip what a couple to join up with) 💖 thank you for reading! Hope you enjoyed!

#cooper howard x reader #cooper howard x you #the ghoul x reader #the ghoul x you

[clockwayswrites]

*writes 800+ words of Another Red but not the part I'm supposed to*

Jason breathed in the heavy clove scented smoke, taking comfort in it. He didn’t smoke often anymore, but if Bruce and Alfred hadn’t gotten him to stop, he didn’t think he ever would. Somethings were just too much part of a person. The smoke swirled up into the night air, caught in the constant breeze a harbor city like Gotham had.

“You don’t have to do this kid, put yourself in danger like this.”

“No, I do,” Rabbit bit out. Jason was pretty sure if he could see the kid’s teeth, they would be bared in a feral smile. “What I can’t do is let people get hurt when I can go and help them.”

“Yeah, and what about your safety? You could die.”

Rabbit laughed like that was some sort of big joke and Jason felt himself bristling at the reaction. Jason knew how dangerous this was— more than anyone else in his family. He’d felt that fear and pain and—

“Yeah, well, Hood, sorta too late for that.”

Jason’s anger left him so suddenly that he felt cold in it’s absence. No—

“Do you know, it’s not the death itself that’s bad,” Rabbit drawled, almost lazily. He finally lit his gifted cigarette. He didn’t take his mask off, like Jason had hoped he would, but ducked his head down and pushed the mask up just enough to take a slow drag. He looked so small like that, hunched over on himself with the bright ember dangling from his fingertips. “The body stopping everything… it’s sorta of quiet. All those functions we don’t think about going on all the time— breath’n and blink’n and beat’n… it’s quite without all that going on. Nah, it’s not the actually dy’n that’s so bad, it’s the fear that comes with it.”

“Yeah.” The admission almost hurt Jason to choke out.

“Yeah,” Rabbit agreed. He took another drag from the cigarette. His free hand was curled over his head, likely to keep his face hidden from Jason, but it just made Rabbit look all the more like a scared kit. “And that fucking fear? That worst part? I live with that all the fucking time, Hood, so nah, I’m not so ‘fraid of dy’n‘gain.”

“At least let me help you avoid it,” Jason said. He didn’t mean to plead but fuck if he wasn’t.

Rabbit snorted and took one more drag before he snuffed out his cig and stood. “Yeah? And how do you plan to do that?”

All traces of the drawling accent was gone and that hint of Gotham was back in Rabbit’s voice.

Jason wondered which was more real.

He reached into his belt instead of pressing the matter— instead of pressing the accent or take on death or talking Rabbit out of this life. Jason knew in every shattered bone of his that it wouldn’t do any good. This life already had the kid by the neck and there was nothing to do about it. It would choke Rabbit out one way or another, just like the rest of them.

The red fob was innocuous against his glove, could hardly even see it in the dim, yellow light of th Narrows. Red on red on red—

“Take it.”

Rabbit didn’t.

“What is it?” he asked instead, leaning forward just a little.

“A panic button.”

Rabbit snorted and flicked the remains of the cigarette at Jason. “I’m not taking a fucking tracker.”

“It’s not a tracker until you activate it. You press and hold the button on each side for two seconds and only if you do that is it a tracker. I can’t activate it remotely on my end or anything,” Jason said. “It’s the same one I give some street kids and sex workers. There’s nothing special about it, it’s just a tracker.”

Rabbit watched Jason with an eerie stillness. “Swear it.”

“I swear, it’s just a panic button. It’s only a track if you turn it on.”

Rabbit still didn’t move. Jason sighed and started to pull his hand back before Rabbit darted forward and grabbed the panic button. The little fucker was quick.

“I won’t press it just for anything,” Rabbit said with a defiant jut of his chin.

“Wouldn’t expect you too,” Jason said with an honest, easy shrug.

Rabbit watched a moment longer before he pulled out a keyring without any keys and put the button in. It hung between a battered food shelter tag and a library barcode that Jason was sure was counterfeit.

“Yeah, whatever. Now go on and get, Hood. Don’t you have a whole city to look after?”

“Fucker,” Jason said fondly and stamped his own cigarette out before he tucked the butt away in a pouch slot. The small part of him that was still very much a Bat wanted to do the same with Rabbit’s so he could try and pull some DNA. Instead he flicked Rabbit off and leapt off the roof to the kid’s laughter.

#another red #dp x dc #batpham

[circeyoru]

The Spirit’s Favourite Human

[Human!Alastor x Spirit of the Forest!Reader]

Part 1 (here)

Part 2

It started with a one-sided meeting. Your home, which was an old willow tree, was threatened by a waste product of some hunters in your forest. It was going to burn your home! But then another man, a hunter since he was holding the same weapons the other hunters would, picked up the cigarette and extinguished it

That started your interest in him

As the trees and birds would tell you, he was a frequent visitor to the forest. With your tiny stature, you could watch him while staying out of sight. You never dared to follow him out of the forest, however, since it would put you in danger. Whenever he was in the forest, you’d shrink yourself and travel by bird to watch the man that you learned was Alastor

The trees and bird told you something bizarre, though. Alastor would bring other people into the forest and bury them. You confirmed it as you sensed the sorrowful souls’ bodies screaming in agony and pain before they were whisked away to Heaven or Hell. Your duty was only to watch over and protect the forest, so matters of life and death of the humans mattered not to you

You made a habit of pushing the bodies deeper into the Earth, they were good fertiliser for the trees and insects in the ground, so you weren’t going to say no to that. You thought of it as gifts from Alastor. You were a Spirit, so how could you understand that killing another human being was frowned upon? In nature, death was as normal as the cycle of night and day

Once, you were alerted by the trees that Alastor was visiting but in danger. The birds told you he was being chased by a pack of dogs with clothes. So they were special ones that were trained. Alastor was your saviour and had done good to the forest more times than you can keep track of, so you naturally went to help him

The wind was on your side as the birds quickly brought you to where Alastor was. Wound and tired, he tried to keep his distance from the dogs behind him. You intercepted, appearing in your normal size (still smaller than Alastor by a head and then some). You blew mist at the dogs, disrupting their sense of smell with heavy pollen, then you grabbed Alastor and went deeper into the forest, you knew this place like the back of your hand, so you got the perfect hiding spot

In the tree hole, the two of you stayed quiet while waiting for the coast to be cleared. After a few moments or so, the trees told you you were safe and the dogs had left. You got out and stretched a bit, not used to being cramped up. You watched curiously as Alastor fell out, holding his body with his hands. He’s hurt. You got close to him, ignoring his words and healed him with the forest’s help

When it was done, you nodded at your handy work. You froze when Alastor grabbed your hand and kissed it, he thanked you and introduced himself

But all your mind registered was human touch! Bad! A gush of wind blew at Alastor, making him shut his eyes and you were gone when he opened his eyes again. He looked at his hand, empty

Back with you, you tried your best to calm down. Human contract was something you never had, sure you acted as spirit guides to lead lost children out of the forest, but never had you had physical touch from one. Now that you think about it, you held Alastor first. Ohhh… This was your problem…

From that day onwards, you avoided Alastor like the plague, if you know what that was, and only received news from your bird friends and the trees. Like before, you’d still push those bodies down down down. The only difference was the following closely was gone

And Alastor felt that. He treasured this forest very much, because it was the perfect place for him to hide the bodies. He noticed that the previously buried bodies were buried deeper than humanly possible, and it was surely not his doing. What’s more was if he didn’t mark it down, he would have missed the burial spot, it was hidden perfectly

Now that he knew of your existence and powers over the forest, he knew it was you who watched him whenever he was in the forest and helped him with his body hiding from the dogs and police. You were his perfect accomplice and you didn’t even know

He wanted to get to know you, to meet you more formally and professionally. Maybe you could solve much more problems he has. Like the marriage proposal that fills his mailbox or creates an alibi in case people are suspicious of him. There was so much potential that could benefit him!

“Darling! Lady of the Forest!” Alastor shouted as he tried to get you to show yourself. He’d been trying to meet you since that day you rescued him, but you were nowhere to be found

He turned to more desperate and drastic measures, like putting himself in danger or appearing to be in a life or death situation to get you to act. You were saving him from dogs last time, so the same logic should do this time

It doesn’t 

So he tried something else

Mimzy became the perfect piece of the puzzle. Her being all over him, too much for his comfort. But his efforts are bearing fruit as he felt your familiar stare, though with envy and malice now

You were beyond confused at the feeling you had. It was fiery and twisted, also foreign to you and not something you’ll feel usually. Then again this Alastor had been making you feel a lot more than what you’re used to

You literally teleported to where Alastor and the other human was when your friends of the forest told you the news. Oh how livid you were when you saw the other human all over Alastor

Were they enjoying their time together? The first is a lovely place for intimate moments. You have seen pairs come into the forest to do some questionable actions, but you just stay clear of the place

For some reason, Alastor and that human do the same made you want to order the wolves to devour that stupid human

But then you were destroyed by Alastor’s actions. A human dressed like her would not just go to this forest, he was the one that brought her here. So you backed away from the pair. Perhaps it was because you avoided him that he lost interest in you and picked someone of his race 

No no no no no! Your stare was losing its intensity and ill will! Why? It was going so well too! He couldn’t help it and acted before anything, before your presence and stare were gone

Your eyes widened at the blood-curdling scream echoed. When you turned around, the human was lying down and crying, Alastor was stabbing a knife at her chest repeatedly while the blood pooled beneath them 

You didn’t even realize you stepped in his line of sight until his eyes met yours. This hunter didn’t just hunt the creatures of the forest, he hunted the other faces of his race

There you were. Finally, in front of him again. It took him a while, but the wait was worth it, given your divine beauty. He’d go as far as to say you’re a goddess! 

“My dearest, it has been a while.” He greeted with a smile as he ignored the body below him that was one of his closest friends

You opened your mouth, but then closed it. Though you understand human language, you couldn’t communicate in it

So you only nodded your head with a small smile. Telepathically, your honey-sweet voice echoed in his head, even with the distortion like an unresponsive radio, he understood, “Greetings to you as well, Alastor.”

Note: Experimenting on posting writings. Format might change in the future. cause this is the first time I've done this (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧

Circe Y.

MASTERLIST

#alastor x reader #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin hotel #alastor x you #alastor headcanons #alastor imagine #hazbin hotel fanfiction #alastor x y/n #The Spirit’s Favourite Human #human alastor #Circe's Nighty Writings

[honestsycrets]

dedication | young!miguel o'hara x reader

❛ pairing | young geneticist!miguel o'hara x scientist!reader

❛ type | oneshot, explicit.

❛ summary | alchemax is a dangerous place to work. miguel's new assistant may be over her head. maybe he can help her, though.

❛ tags | virgin reader, f!reader, shitty science, plot heavy, loose canon references, literary liberties, loss of virginity, overprotective Miguel o'hara, jealous miguel o'hara, some objectification, workplace politics, aftercare (as requested), corruption (is it tho?), bc what bc, Spanish is not translated, young!miguel, heel-foot fetish, somewhat romantic.

❛ fulfilled request | can we please have a miguel x virgin reader and he didn’t even know until he was already putting it in?? And then voila his corruption kink unexpectedly growS? @a--dedicated--fangirl

❛ sy’s notes | miguel sort of works on that whole corruption aspect throughout this fic, but i wanted to meld these two ideas together to create a reader who is entirely dedicated to Miguel. This piece was a bit long for me.

“Miguel, your new assistant is here.” 

On paper, you’re an excellent candidate for the genetics program. 

An excellent GPA, renowned company internships, decent publications, and a diverse upbringing. It was all good. Great, even. But as the head of the genetics program at Alchemax, he has a little thing called priorities. Interviewing everyone himself was low on the rung of shit he felt like he should be doing. There was, however, one little, itty bitty, tiny problem with bringing you on board.

“Dr. O’Hara? ¿Estas bien?”

That shirt-- is not meant to hold those-- His brain was left field, glimpsing at them. A slightly sheer button-up revealed the outline of your bustier and its inability to conceal your body. They should have been illegal. He was pretty sure they were illicit in the handbook on his table. He should really read that again. Maybe then he wouldn’t be salivating over something as simple as a co-worker-- He needed to get out of the lab. The bleached walls tightened around him, the space smaller than he remembered. He was going to get caught.

Realistically, the lab was full of witty people. Many of them were witty men with subpar looks and stupider dicks. He couldn’t bring himself to say anything about it. Not only because your lips were plump, painted petal-pink, and kissable or because the depth of your sultry eyes went straight in the dick. No, but because that would be improper of a man of his stature to tell one of the only women in his care that she was too gorgeous for the job you were clearly qualified for. 

“Sí, coño,” He fixed his glasses, crooked on his broad nose. He stood up from his desk and grabbed his lab coat, swirling it around his broad shoulders. If he wasn’t mistaken, you tracked the movement with your eyes. “Do you want a cafecito? Miss…”

You told him your name. He mulled it over on his tongue, lathing it in a gentle acknowledgment. Cemented it in a place he wouldn't forget. You tinked your head to the side, your lashes fluttering when he cleared his throat. Great, just shocking-- 

“After you,” he headed for the door. He held it open for you, plastering his back to the wood. It didn't matter. You slid by closer than he’d prefer, your hand catching on his belt buckle with muttered apologies. This wasn’t going to end well. 

Cafecito is an excellent excuse to pull his dumbass together. 

It also calms his nerves, centers his mind, and allows him to compartmentalize. Whether or not you could hold your own wasn’t his issue, his issue was the necessity of someone he could trust. Ugly, beautiful-- so long as they were efficient, Miguel would make due. The cafeteria was a large and clean space. The many tables were crowded with wrap-around stations for poorly crafted, misery-inducing meals. Miguel paid and took a seat at a creaky table. One where he could see the door open, shut, and keep an eye on the comings and goings of meager scientists and annoying managers. 

“You’ll be working with me.” 

You pursed your lips around the warm cup of coffee, taking a ginger sip. He noted your lipstick stain that remained as you pushed the cup toward the middle of the table you shared with him. This damn suit vest was stifling. He gave you a long, slow look, tilting his head to the fact that you’d not drunk anything. It’d be rude to acknowledge.

“Delgado told me,” you smiled warmly. “He said you’re a genius. I don’t know that I believe in geniuses.” 

Hmph. Delgado, things fell into place. That sycophant knew what he liked. He also knew that Miguel was better than him, always was, and always would be. Miguel offered you a slick smile, convinced he could assure you otherwise if he needed to. “Delgado says a lot of things. I’m surprised he gave you to me.”

“Why is that, O’Hara?” the way his name slipped off your tongue was a hot sin. If only he believed in a god. His eyelids shifted over his eyes, heavy-lidded and dark.

“You’re beautiful. He likes to collect beautiful things,” Miguel tried, curious.  Your nails clicked in succession over the table. A repetitive click, click, click. He would be annoyed too if he were no more than a ploy. A distraction. Miguel wasn’t sure that it wasn’t working. His eyes flickered down, catching one of your palms curling into a tight fist, tension rolling through your fingers and up your arms. “He knows I do too.” 

You leaned in, close enough that he could spot the unique freckles spread out in a crescent moon beneath a layer of makeup on your face. Beautiful. “I’m not here to belong to you, O’Hara. I hope you know that.” 

He was off to a great, fantastic start.

 “Understood.” Miguel leaned back in his chair, a smirk creeping up his lips. Or, believe that you believed that. You spared him any more mincing comments. Appeased by his suggestion, you brought your drink back to your lips.

“Good. What are we sequencing?” 

“Me.” 

You swallowed. “You? You can’t be--” 

Mhm, he stared, lips pressed tightly together. “You’ll code my DNA. Then we’ll splice it.” 

"With what?"

"You'll see."

“Is this your little,” you swirled your finger in a circle. “Pet project?” 

Unfortunately not, he would have liked to say. That information was confidential, and though you worked on the project, there were levels to his willingness to involve you in the delicate flow of workplace politics. Still, you might make a healthy distraction from his work. Miguel took a swig of his cafecito, boring into the black substance.

“Something like that.” 

Having a pretty assistant means things don’t always get done according to schedule. Not quickly enough, not by far. There is a time limit to everything at Alchemax. The quicker, the better. Thus this project demanded more hours of his time. The project was spliced between the work required of him by superiors and you, your quirks, and your preferences. 

Miguel has learned a great many things about you in a short amount of time. You don’t appreciate misplaced pet names. You actually can’t handle coffee because of the caffeine or the sugar. He also learns things about himself. How little he likes when Delgado comes to check on progress because he isn’t actually checking on shit. He's checking you out. 

He likes to weasel his nasty fingers around the door, peering in to try and find out what specimen he’s actually working on. Miguel was much too smart for that. His beady eyes caught Miguel over your shoulder, mumbling up to him about a new finding in tests you ran earlier that day. Your face mask twirled around your index finger, finally free and at a documentation workspace.   Funny, because he clearly redacts information from your well-recorded notes on the daily. You refuse to include less.

“Hey Mike,” he said. “How are things… Oh hey, you. You settling in, honey? Mike treating you ok? I can discipline him for you.”

“As if you could,” Miguel huffed. 

But Delgado spying on you, the way you record progress by pouting out your lips, shifting between paper and your lab reports, was intolerable. Because... well, he has sensitive information on there. Your nose scrunches in distaste, but you bow your head just slightly as a hello. He might be his supervisor, but Miguel doesn’t need one to know why this asshole is in his lab turning his smarmy brown eyes over the way you sit: one leg over the other. You seem to realize it too, trailing your eyes over his gaudy suit to Miguel’s sinewy hand on your shoulder. 

“Stop being a creep,” Miguel complained, “She has actual work to do.”

“Actual work? As opposed to--“

“Yes, what you do.” Miguel spat out. You eschewed a giggle, turning your face over a pristine white lab jacket that thankfully, you had no qualms in wearing. Otherwise, he might not finish any work in the lab at all. 

“I supervise--

“You’re still talking but we’re not listening,” Miguel waved him off, plucking up papers by your side. Your eyes snap up to Miguel’s deep chocolate eyes hidden behind the thin frame of his metal glasses, waiting for a proper response. “Goodbye, Aaron.”

Miguel walks to the door, locks it with a click, and returns to your side. You glance at his white lab coat, fluttering around his tapered waist. He loves the way your eyes look at him with a soft, inviting expression, beseeching him to come to sit by your side as he always did. “Not a fan of Delgado, I take it.” 

“Are you?” Miguel sits with his legs spread, his fingers threading through his thick brown hair. You set your papers down, swiveled toward him. The wheels of your rolling chair squeak on either side of his thick, black boots. His eye catches your thick thighs, squashed between your midi skirt, its atrocious slip causing him discomfort. His hand leaves his thick hair, dropping in unison side by side. 

“I can’t stand being called honey, Mike.” 

“Shut up.”

The days proceed similarly. Days filled with brushing past him as he slides in samples and reagents. He might lose a sample, clattering on the floor, and you always rush to help him clean up. Lunch together, because no matter how late he eats, you’re there beside him. Then as night falls, you stay until he has finished whatever he needs to do.

“Time to eat something,” you slipped into his office. The clock ticked past midnight. Miguel flicked through handwritten pages of information that did not need to be recorded in computer files. You watched his eyes scan over the ink on the page, acknowledging you with a grumpy grunt. Not now, not when he was so close to finishing the last section of the project.

“Empanada,” you turned his palm over, placing the flaky pastry in his hand. Caramelized apple. He loved a good apple empanada. He watched as you walked over to the coffee maker, drawing him a warm cafecito just how he liked it. Miguel dropped his pen, stretching out his aching spine. 

“Gracias. From where?” 

“I made them,” you set down the cup a little harder than intended. The surface rippled, throwing hot coffee drips onto his pages. His eyes flickered up from the pages to your eyes. Without thinking, he blathers:

“That so?” A pause. “Don’t you have a man?” 

“Miguel. With this sequencing project, you’re the only man in my life. Shut up and eat the empanada.” 

“Huh. Good. I like that.” He swallowed the empanada with a bob of his head, his tongue lathing over his teeth for any more of the sweet sugar. He stood up, finding your expression soft, drawn out by a sense of longing that he couldn’t imagine he saw.  

“You like my sad love life?” 

Yes.

“No, we have a company event. A ball,” Miguel chided, his tone gentling as he slipped away from his desk, abandoning his steamy coffee on his desk. He backed out of the doorway, “It’s all Stone’s politics. You know how these things are. I have to go. Come with me.” 

“Is that a request or an order?” 

“A date.” 

I’d love to. Your words were the only thing that made tonight bearable. Slinking his tanned skin into a dark blue suit that cinched everything too tight was… unbearable. It clung to his skin like a second skin and choked off his air. But it might be worth it to see your face-- just maybe. He tracked the fluttering tails of fish behind bulletproof glass, following them as they fluttered away into their rock. He wished he could too. 

“Miguel?” 

“You’re here,” he turned around, dropping the champagne he idly held in his hand. It went forgotten by his boot as you called his name again. His gaze fixed on yours, the slinky navy blue dress caused his heart to thrum through his chest, chasing the sight of your body at his feet, picking shards of glass up with the aid of a worker, apologizing profusely for the mess. A soft puff of breath slipped from his lips as you stood back up, gripping your purse a little harder in your hands. He ran his hand over his jaw, drawing himself back to his senses.

“Miggy,” he husked out. “Call me Miggy.” 

“You look handsome, Miggy,” his name felt unreal on your lips until he felt the pressure on his elbow. Your soft hands slunk around his, cradling him for some security in the face of the large doors. He shook himself back to his senses. Right, there was a reason he was here. “But shouldn’t we go?” 

He should have-- but did he want to? No, not really. He didn’t want to see Stone’s greasy face, let Aaron take a peek at how you looked dolled up, or any of the rest of these fuckers. What he wanted was something else entirely. 

“Listen.” Miguel stopped, his other hand coming to the jeweled bracelet on your wrist. The doors to the ballroom lapsed, groups of older men filtering in and out with their pieces of the night: doting wives, longing husbands, and partners that their wives or husbands probably didn’t know about. “Don’t wander off from me. They’re all snakes. All of them.” 

“Even you?” 

“Hermosa,” you didn’t leer at him. “I’m the least of your worries.” 

He wasn’t wrong. The ballroom was dolled up in lush fabrics, fine china, and a copious amount of food as it was every year. Miguel found the attempt to distract from what really went on behind closed doors at Alchemax a bit cloying. This year the music was at least tolerable. It filtered out into the ballroom in a syrupy melodies driven on by the soft, promises of rich men for the exchange of sex. For much of the night, he could stomach the various men poking and prodding at him about his impending research. So long as you were here.

“Miggy,” you breathed, a hot puff of air against his ear. He leaned down, his hand atop of yours. “Will you dance with me?” 

Dance? Miguel had two left feet-- it’s why he was a geneticist. For all the work you did on his behalf in the lab, including this very night, he owed you the benefit of whatever you wanted. He searched out a quiet area, one where the only disruption could be the stream of moonlight in through a window. You preferred it over the wall of vivacious men and over-powdered women. He preferred it over the atrocity of his footwork.

“It’s not much of a date,” Miguel’s hand slid around yours. He encompassed your small palm with his large hand, the other gliding across the soft, exposed skin of your back. You swayed with him, side to side. He was an awful dancer, but there was something endearing about that. He saw it in your eyes, the glimmer of curiosity, gliding your dark heels against the inside of his foot. Damn, he still sucked.

“No,” you agreed, shifting to take the lead. He followed your steps. Right, back, left, up. Maybe he stepped on your long dress once or twice, too. Shock, he cursed again, stepping over your foot.

“You’re remarkably bad at this.” You settled your head on his chest, letting your box steps fade into little more than the shifting of your hips. 

“I know. Let’s just-- sway?” 

“Swaying is good.”  

“O’Hara,” boomed Stone. But of course— peace couldn’t last forever. Like a bullet through the chest, a voice caused him to turn in startle. His tan cheeks flushed with warmth, feeling cut off from the cover of others. He was dressed in the most gaudy of clothes that almost seemed to match the crooked expression on his pale face. No matter how many times he tried to fix it, it always looked… wrong. 

Stone’s hands came together, clapping multiple times to force the crowd of politicians, scientists, and bought-in participants to fade away. His voice caused Miguel to growl, a low rumbly noise that you soothed with your breasts pushing gingerly against his arm. He could do it. He could handle this pompous little shit-- “And who is this beauty? A new girlfriend, perhaps? Fiance? O’Hara could do with a wife. Settle him down, y’know.”

Miguel huffed out of his nostrils. “This is my lab partner,” he cleared his throat, leaning forward. “For… the project.”

“Her? A lab partner? Ha!” 

Shock. He didn’t have to look at you to know you were insulted. Miguel pinched the bridge of his nose, rubbing out the tension as you smiled through the interaction, taking over for Miguel. “We have measurable results.” 

“That’s what I like to hear, sweet thing. Now, Miguel, Aaron has found a test subject…”

“I’ll interview them.” 

“No need! I--” 

“Excuse me, Mr. Stone. I’ll let you two talk,” you slipped away, your heels clicking off into the busy crowd. Stone was talking. Miguel knew he should listen closely. His half-formed plan to see what the future held for his research was wafting into the air, wisps of it in his ear. Tomorrow-- test-- can you? Panic blinded his senses. He could find you nowhere in the room, and even if he did, would he be too late? 

“Yeah, yeah, that’s fine, it’s… excuse me.” 

The issue with falling for someone was the scythe of his fear. His position was inherently risky. No matter how many groups of people he cut through trying to find you, you weren’t there. No tiny little appetizers of shrimp on half a skewer. No booze, because your head would swim. Not near the bathrooms, either. He rushed down the steps when he found you, just before the large iron gates, staring up at the stars peppering the sky. 

At your feet, Aaron. His drunken fingers trying and failing to guide the strap off of your ankle. You, of course, sat there staring dumbly down at his failed attempts to do something as simple as fix your damn heel.

“I’ll take it from here.” Miguel booted Aaron out of the way. Who, with his sloppy sloshed curses, tried to win a fight with him. He eventually won out. Aaron slunk away, somewhere up the steps. Miguel wasn’t counting. “You didn’t listen.” 

“Hm?” 

Miguel loosened both straps, sliding his open palm under your foot for one then the other. You gazed at him, sliding the black heels off your feet, tutting his tongue at the blistered back of your feet. 

“I told you not to wander off.” 

“I just wanted to see the stars. Besides, it was just Aaron.” 

“It’s never just Aaron. It’s Aaron and Stone.” Miguel’s eyebrows pushed against one another, recording your failure to listen. You crossed one leg over the other, sliding your toes over his silk tie, kept beneath a vest. He knelt before you, searching your eyes for the right answer. “You don’t know… what you’re getting into. I’m trying to keep you safe.” 

 “I don’t need you to. I can take care of myself, Miguel. Please don’t--” you sighed. “Don’t be like them.” 

He knew what you meant. Like Aaron, peeling off your shoes at the sign of discomfort because you were a pretty woman. Or Stone, who couldn’t comprehend your value as a scientist. Those who doubted you because of your color, gender, or a mixture of the two. His mouth twisted in frustration. He was in deep. Whatever you desired, he wanted to give. It came at a price.

“Are you mine,” the words came out stiff, “or theirs?” 

“Miggy,” you turned the word over on your tongue, willing him to stand down. His dark eyes settled on yours, unmoving. “Why do I have to pick?” 

“You can’t have both. You’ll have to choose. One day.” 

Your mind worked. He knew from the way you pursed your lip out, then in, puncturing its pillowy surface with your teeth. You shifted your gaze to the water, the stream coursing down the unfeeling stone. Miguel's fingers ran across your inner thigh, causing you to gaze down at him. The steps of others on the other side of the fountain, fading into the depths of the night caused you to break his gaze. Miguel offered you his hand, fitting the shoes under his other arm as he walked toward the valet. You took his hand and interlaced your fingers.

“Do you trust me?” 

“Of course,” you said, though the words felt thready and thin, nary a whisper. Something in the undercurrent of your voice concerned him. A thread that needed to be snipped, convinced of the vileness of the city-- of who you worked for. 

He doesn’t make mistakes. 

But he left the project code on his desk. It should have been there, yet, the corpse of a decrepit, awful creature withered on the lab floor proved otherwise. Someone had taken it because he was distracted. As a result, someone lost their life... even if it was Stone's doing.

Now, scouring through his papers, his hands tremored like a common drug addict. He supposed he was one, a druggie, tremoring like a shot hungry, Rapture crazed-- 

“Miggy?” 

He snapped around. His gaze melded your figure into one beautiful blurb, even with the glasses on his broad nose. It was your voice, coded in something close to concern. Miguel ran his hands through his hair, long strands falling messily over his eyes and cheekbones. He flattened his hands out atop his head.

“What are you looking for?” 

“The notes,” he weathered a breath. He doddered about the room, throwing a stack of paper onto the floor. They crumpled over the floor, mixed projects, notes on the specimen, but none were his. “Where are my notes?” 

“You’re sick,” your voice broke gently, as if speaking them alone helped. A horrid crack of laughter slipped from his throat, drawing into a long lament as he repeated the words after you. Sick, you said, he was sick. If being sick was the least of his issues, he would have been a happy man. Your steps rang into his ear, heavier than before, painful and loud. He crumpled onto the couch in his office, his hands cupping them. Your soft hands coursed over his chest, unbuttoning his starched button-up and sliding it down his muscular upper arms. “This might hurt.” 

No kidding, needles always hurt. But the instantaneous relief that flooded his system overrode the momentary pain. As your fuzzy figure came into focus, he recognized the drug that you set aside. 

“You didn’t--” 

“You were right, Miggy, about the-- Mr. Sims.”  Miguel gazed at you, leafing through novels of notes with trembling hands. He cursed himself for subjecting you to seeing that. Not quite human, not quite... The twisted look on the poor man’s face. What months of research with one another had offered. He would fix it. He knew the research was on point. It was the application that was lacking.

“I have a copy of your notes,” you murmured as if someone could hear. They likely could. “¿Ay, puñeta, dónde está? Ah! Here, here it is. Your… profile.” 

“You kept it,” he glanced down at the hastily scribbled note attached to the clip. ‘Miguel’s profile’ alongside a soft pink heart. He stopped your hands from thumbing through another leaflet. His eyes traced the dry ink of the heart. His thumb moved to stroke it, catching the sight of bubbling tears welling over in your eyes out of the corner of his eye. The tears slid down your full cheeks, triggering his discomfort to well up in his stomach. Miguel shifted closer, flicking fat droplets off your slight jaw.

“Hermosa,” Miguel shifted his head, cocking his eyebrow. “¿Que te pasa?”

“I should have listened to you Miggy,” you began, inhaling air forcefully through your nostrils. Breathe, you murmured. Miguel's soft hand cupped the back of your neck like a collar. You were happy to be collared by his hand, it felt safe. 

His eyes narrowed, thumb caressing the loose strands of hair at your nape. “You should have. You know I'll take care of you."

You nodded.

"You have to be fully dedicated to me.” 

“I am.” 

“Show me.” You fluttered your eyes, the gears of your mind working to understand what he meant. His hand fell away to trace the bow of your black blouse. He tugged on the knot, slipping the bow loose and running his fingers over your exposed cleavage below. “Take off the blouse.” 

Was it necessary? Some might have said no-- but sex, in its connective nature-- was the ultimate dedication. At the end of it all, that's what he craved: your eyes, your actions, all born with him in mind. With trembling fingers, you untucked your shirt from your black slacks. Miguel sat back, tracking the soft lace of your balconette bra teasing his eye. You loitered for a minute too long, enough for him to lift his thick eyebrow.

“Don’t stop now,” he said. Your knees knocked together, slipping the shirt over and off your torso before draping it on the arm of his couch. Your bra followed quickly after, slipping out of the twisted straps. You skimmed your hands over your breasts, holding them for comfort.

"No." Miguel flicked his fingers, motioning for your hands to move from your thick nipples.  You pushed your breasts together, allowing him to marvel at them a second longer. “Que maravilla... You have no idea how long I’ve waited. Go on, take off the rest now.” 

You suckled in breath, sliding the button of your pants loose. Then the zipper, its cloth scratching your thighs on its way to pool around your ankles. You stepped out of them, joining them too with your shirt. Miguel sat up, running his calloused fingers over the side of your hip and waist. His thumbs hooked in your panties, drawing them down over your pussy, a moist spot on your panties connecting a small string of wetness to your pussy. His palm slid between your thighs, pinned by your thighs pressed together, whether out of an innate need for more pressure or shyness to show him how wet you were. Hm. Miguel melded your ass, striking your skin with his large palm, it jiggled.

“Miggy,” you breathed, shy and intimidated. “I have to tell you something…” 

“Lay down,” he told you. 

“But Miggy, what if someone…” Your eyes darted away from his, chewing on his cheek as you slid back down beside him. You settled on the couch, your legs thrown over his thighs. The couch was stiff, hard against your neck. You stole a haughty glimpse at his face, focused entirely on coursing his palms over your calves and thighs, then back down to your slight toes. He ground your feet over his stiff cock, obscured by the fabric of his slacks. He felt big-- bigger than you could have imagined from the look on your face. 

“¡Basta!” Miguel growled, “No one is going to come in. Let me see you.” 

You flushed. 

“You want me to…” you glanced down, your curls were soft to the touch. 

“Touch yourself for me.” 

With your heart strumming in your chest, you shifted your hand down, spreading your lips, soft and wet. You were so wonderfully shy to follow his orders, the pads of your fingers rubbing along your outer lips, massaging them warm and swollen. You buried your eyes into your other arm, dragging up and down, over and over. A delightful sigh greeted his ear, ensuring that though you were too embarrassed to look at him, you loved it. He allowed it for now-- because he was a gracious, forgiving man. 

“Shock,” Miguel shuffled at the button and zipper of his pants, freeing himself from his slacks. He spat into his palm, stroking over his fleshy length, squishing his cock against your foot. Your toes curled over his cockhead, engrossed in Miguel’s rumbling pants, the soft pleasure that bloomed from his chest. Your eyes trained on his lips, the slight breath suckled between his teeth. Your fingers glazed over your stiff clit, pausing as though you needed his permission, just how he wanted it. Your sweet submission. 

His eyebrow perked. “You can touch it.” 

“Oh,” you glanced down, tracing the way Miguel fisted himself, swirling up to his cockhead, along fat veins and the bubble of salty fluid on his tip. His permission seemed to spur something else in you, flicking your swollen clit to the sound of his pleasured growling, your own pleasure growing in tandem with his. 

“¡Ya!” he annunciated, watching as you failed to stop. All at once he stopped his ministrations. A sigh escaped his chest as he pushed himself up, smacking your hand away from your puffy cunt. His cock bobbed between your bodies. You wanted to touch it, but couldn’t.

"Wait," you cried out. His cock twitched as he lowered his hips down, drawing sweet lubricant on his cock, stroking your pussy. He leaned forward, capturing your mouth in a warm kiss. He dipped his hand down, his cockhead prodding and poking, dipping lower with the aid of his hand. 

“MiggyI’mavirgin,” you said all at once, his cockhead nudged against your entrance. Miguel’s head about snapped as he looked up, eyes popped wide open in disbelief. Before he could quite form a coherent thought, your hands shot out to grip his suit vest, stopping him where he was.

“¿Qué dejiste? Say that again?” 

“I haven’t… I haven't had sex,” you murmured. He hadn’t put it together. Your shyness, the awkward way you shuffled around, loosening your bra and hiding your perfect breasts from his eyes. The words were finally out in the open but didn't register.

"A..." Miguel fisted his cock, once, then twice, shifting back to kneel before you. Your eyes fell on his muscular thighs, the way his hand fisted his dick. “You’re a virgin?”

“I’m too old for this,” you mumbled, hiding your eyes with your palms. Miguel shifted to cast aside your hands from your eyes, his muscular body caging you underneath, looking for an explanation. “I just. Between school, work, I never had time.” 

Not that he was complaining.

"No boyfriend?"

You shook your head. He couldn't believe his luck. Not only were you gorgeous, but you were untouched. His, completely and fully. He liked it better that way-- to be the first memory smeared in your head. So that when you looked back on this moment, right now, it would forever be marked by his face.

"It's mine," he blurted out all at once. "I want your first to be mine."

His hand dropped down to your cunt. The pad of his middle finger worked at your entrance as though he were exploring the truth of your statement, stretching you with the aid of his fingers. You were tight, it had to be true.

You nodded, face buried deep in your arm. It didn’t take but moments for him to draw his hand back, suckling the lubricant from his fingertips. You distantly registered his words, “Damn it, you... you don't know what you do to me.” 

Before you could say a word more, Miguel positioned the head of his dick against your slippery virgin hole. You clenched, glancing down between your bodies again, as you had a dozen times, anxiously waiting. Miguel hushed you, the repetitive shushing of his lips soothing you into complacency, forcing your muscles to relax. “It might hurt. But the pain won’t last,” he assured you.

He rolled his hips forward. His sharp exhale shook with every centimeter that gave way. Your walls were forced apart, suffocating you on the shock of adjusting to having someone, no not someone, Miguel-- your Miguel, sinking into your tense body. He throbbed, twitching in your body. His hands fisted in the aged couch, catching the breath in his chest. 

“Ay, Miggy,” your nails dug into his shirt, loose around his firm muscles. “Miggy, no puedo,” 

“You can, you’re so good, eres tan buena,” Miguel swept your lips between his, taking the moment of your surprise to bury himself further, swallowed by your cunt that resisted his intrusion. Your lips fluttered in the kiss, keened out a cry. The pain of his dick, forcing its way through your passage is quelled by the knowledge that he’s here, with you, his girth forcing you apart, stretching you apart, seating himself flush against your womb. His voice was caramelized, sugared over, and so good. “Look at how well you’re taking me already.” 

“Coño, that’s a tight pussy,” He slid his hips back, the warm sensation of his withdrawal pulling free before shoving back in, a cry shoving forth from your lips, filling his office and the connected lab with your cries. He might have heard someone draw the door open, his hips driving back in, centered on the magnificent groans that stuttered free from your chest with Miguel’s careful thrusts. You keened his name, a repetitious Miggy, Miggy, Miggy-- it was Aaron, probably. He recognized the way his feet drug on the floor. 

He hoped he didn’t just hear it. He hoped he saw it too, the way his balls slapped against your ass, the mess of blood soaking the already unhygienic couch, the way his cock pulsed. You were blissed out, so full and well of him like no one else ever had-- because you were his, and his alone. It wasn’t just sex. It was more than that. From Aaron, whose shuffled steps fell out of his office, to any other little bitch in the office who had their own gain. 

“Damn,” Miguel shifted back, hooking his hand around your thigh to drag you back onto his dick. He swirled his thumb against your stiff clit, whirling it around in one circle, then another, and by the third your knees knocked together, bearing down on his cock to hold him still. “I can’t--” you stuttered out, I can’t--” 

“You’re going to,” he hissed. “You’re going to cum right here, right now, split open on my dick.” 

With another circle, you croaked an ugly cry, a terrible, ugly cry that Miguel couldn’t find any more beautiful as your body buzzed around him, tightening and squeezing your already tight cunt around him. Blissful pleasure radiated there, riding his dick for the friction against your virgin walls, your thoughts fading into a realm of insistent pleasure, where thoughts were space mush.

Miguel withstood the pressure on his cock,  clamping his hand down on your hip. His thrusts stuttered, filling your belly with whip after whip with his full hot cum. Your body twitched in the throes of his orgasm. He tracked his eyes down to your body, withdrawing with a bubbly pop of his dick from your abused hole, the intermingling of cum and virginal blood dribbling down your cheeks. 

Your gaze tracked Miguel, pressing his lips toward yours one more time. You shifted on the couch, legs pathetically tremoring. Miguel chuckled and walked toward his electric kettle, papers crunching underneath his feet, “Don’t bother moving. Not that you could, anyway.”

He warmed a warm cloth with hot water, testing its temperature on his palm before sitting beside your crumpled legs, spreading your legs to clean his mess and sooth the abrasive way he took you. He spread your lips, ensuring you were clean before he would flip the cloth, dropping it on top of your vulva. 

“You know you’re mine,” he asked, though it came out as a statement. With another cloth, Miguel cleaned his soft cock of the mess, exhaustion of the sex and what was to come returning to his gentle, deep voice. 

“Sí,” you answered. 

“And you’d do anything for me. Only me.” 

The words were laced with something more than a suggestion, but an affirmation of your loyalty. Your love. You pushed yourself up, hanging off his arm after he tucked himself into his pants. “Para siempre.” 

He leaned down, plucking the bundle with his sequenced DNA information. Your eyes coursed the information on the page, darting up to his tired eyes. You wanted to ask why or what he knew. Miguel knew it didn't matter. You were his now, from the top of your head to the bottom of your gorgeous toes. You trusted him fully. As you should. With the empty vial of Rapture sitting beside him, forgotten, he spared you a mincing smile that didn’t quite meet his eyes. 

“Good. Let's fix our project.” 

#miguel ohara oneshot #miguel o'hara oneshot #miguel o'hara x you #miguel x reader #miguel ohara x reader #spider 2099 imagine #across the spiderverse imagine #atsv imagines #atsv imagine #spider 2099 x reader #miguel o'hara/reader #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara smut #miguel ohara smut

[rayassecretlife]

“My mate, you are playing a dangerous game”

Pairing: Aged up!Neteyam Sully x Fem!Omatikaya!Reader

Summary: Neteyam can’t control himself around you, especially when he’s drunk.

Warning(s): Drunk!Neteyam, Mature language, Degradation, switch!dom!Neteyam, F!ngering, unprotected p in v, breeding kink, praise kink, male!recieving, bruising and marking, the whole nine really.

Not! Proof read! Sorry for mistakes.

It felt like you had been carrying thousand pound rocks on your back as you carried your drunken husband through the forest. You couldn’t see much and you were only trying to get back to your shared cave. Neteyam was heavy on his feet due to his drowsiness and of course was much more heavy then you.

Neteyam never got drunk, really. Tonight was the celebration for his parents anniversary and he only let loose this one time. You had a few drinks yourself but you knew he’d end up like this so you paced yourself while he downed drinks like they were plain water.

You on the other hand, we’re also busy worrying about your daughter who was staying with your parents since Neteyam had completely shit faced himself. You trusted your mother with your life but you hated when your daughter was away from the two of you, without being in arms reach of her was something that made your skin crawl.

You had just barely made it once you reached the entrance to your cave and practically pushed Neteyam onto your hammock with a huff. He was laughing but you of course were not, being as you just carried him across the forest. You made your way over to where you kept the food you had stored and pulled a few things out of the basket, things that would make him some what full to hopefully sober him up a little.

You of course, wanted to go to sleep but Neteyam was never that easy when he was drunk. He’s far too touchy for you to even close your eyes without him doing something to wake you up. You poured juice into a small cup and set it on the stone ledge, along with the fruits you were cutting for him to eat, but like always, that wouldn’t last long.

His giant arms snaked around your small frame from behind you and his warm body pressed up against yours, you could already feel the growing erection under his loincloth. He didn’t say anything, only leaning his head down to place sweet kisses to your neck as you continued to cut fruit.

“Go sit down, baby. I’m making you some food” Your free hand reaches back to touch his head but he only hums in response, continuing his movements from before. “Neteyam, please just eat this for me?” You turn to him once your finished and he’s already looking at you with those half lidded eyes, making your stomach explode with butterflies like you hadn’t seen it before. “Please?”

A smirk pulls at his lips as he walks toward you, pulling your body against his and capturing your lips in a passionate kiss. His touch was hungry against your skin, fingertips hard against your waist to hold you steady. You gave into him for a small second before pulling away, placing your finger over his lips.

“Eat this and you can get all the kisses you want, Okay?” He huffs but takes the plate from you, sitting down on the freshly loom-made chair you had just added to your home. You walk over to where you put your basket of clothes by your hammock, opening it to pull out a new top to fall asleep in since the one you had on was merely for celebrations and quite uncomfortable.

You unclip the straps of the top you had on and let it fall to the ground, working to strap on the new and looser one you pulled out from the basket. After changing your top, you looked for a loincloth to slip into that also was loose, your tired eyes becoming far too lidded to think about anything other then sleep.

Just before you could slip into a new loincloth, the hungry hands your boyfriend possessed pulled you back, turning your body to face him all in under a second. You gasped at the sudden movement, realizing he had pulled you onto his lap while he sat in the chair. “Nete, I barely have clothes o-“ Once again, he cut you off with a passionate kiss to your lips, wrapping his hand gently around your throat.

Of course you gave in under his grasp like you always did, his lips tasted of the fruit you had given him before and it only drew you more in then you had been already.

But as soon as you felt his tongue slip past your lips, you quickly pulled away.

“Not tonight, Tey. Your drunk” You try to reason but he isn’t listening. The two of you had already talked about things like this and you knew sober him wouldn’t care if you had sex, but you still didn’t know if you were completely sure about that. “Let’s just go to sleep-“

“You said as many kisses as I want, didn’t you?” He raises an eyebrow while mocking your words, reaching up to stroke your hair with his gentle fingertips. “Looked so beautiful tonight, can’t believe your all mine” His strong arms pull you close to him so his face stuffed between the crook of your neck, taking in your sweet smell through his nose.

Your cheeks grow hot as you watch his tail sway from side to side, his face nuzzling against your body like a cat would do to its owner. You giggled at his movements but he didn’t care, only continuing his actions from before. Your hands combed his braids with care, twisting them around your fingers as you hug his head close to you. Neteyam was always touchy when he was drunk. He needed to be under your skin, only able to smell your scent as he slept.

“Neteyam!” Your body jolts at the sudden sensation between your legs, his hand that was once laid on your back, was pressed against your cunt. “Tey, I don’t need-“ His lips are practically attacking your neck with the most passionate and wet kisses you could imagine, a sigh leaving your mouth as you felt the pleasure fill areas you shouldn’t have. When Neteyam was drunk, he gets extremely horny and practically will eat you alive if you don’t give yourself to him. For some reason your mate hormones are much worse when he’s intoxicated.

He didn’t even need you to please him, he only ever wanted to please you. It was weird because you’d think it was the other way around but not with your husband. His thumb was pressing against your clit with care, rubbing circles to it while his tongue glides against your skin. His lips brush your ear softly before taking its lobe between his teeth, gently pulling it with a chuckle. “So easy, My love” Your ears flick at his hot breath against you, watching as he pulled his fingers back up between your faces to show you the mess you left covering them.

You watch as he slips his fingers into his mouth one at a time, cleaning them from your sweet slick. His free arm snakes around your waist swiftly, and his face leans up to meet your own in a sweet kiss, leaning his large body against your own to guide you to lay on your back to which you quickly oblige.

“Good girl” He praises with a smirk, trailing kisses down your neck till he got to your chest piece. “Let’s get this out of the way, yeah?” You hum, pushing his hair out of his face as he unclips the piece of clothing, eyes gluing to your chest. “You are so breathtakingly beautiful, Syulang. So beautiful” A small laugh leaves your mouth as your cheeks flush at his repeated and slurred soft words and a moan coaxes your throat as he swirls his tongue around your hardened nipple, kneading the other one between his fingers.

When you and Neteyam first started dating, you were so insecure about your body for months but now? You didn’t have time to be insecure because Neteyam quite literally worshiped your body. He’d place kisses on every spot you hated, and remind you constantly throughout the days how beautiful you looked, especially when you woke up in the morning. He made sure to remind you hourly.

“Always getting what you want, huh?” You huff as he pulls away from your chest with a chuckle, and moving down your bare body. His big hands cup under your thighs and push your legs apart, bending your knees back so your heels were laying against his shoulders. His eyes were strained to yours as his thumb circled your clit, watching your face twist in pleasure. It was a guilty pleasure of yours, honestly. Neteyam went down on you almost everytime you had been stressed or angry, and you love every second his mouth is attached to your forbidden area. He knew your body inside and out, and it was practically impossible for him to contain himself.

A small but quiet gasp catches in your throat abruptly and you let your head quickly fall back, Neteyam’s eyes still set on you while he sunk his middle finger inside you with ease. “Thought you didn’t need it?” He teases but your too in awe to care, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth.

“Stop being a tease, Neteyam” you tell him seriously, a smirk pulling at his lips once his full name left your mouth. His face lowered toward your center, curling his finger against the soft walls of your insides as the tip of his tongue touched your clit gently. “Come on, Tey” Your hand is already on its way to his head before you could realize, and you let your fingers roam his braids.

He didn’t know if it was just the alcohol or something but you looked so pretty in this light. Of course you always did, but something about tonight was different. You were impatient and whining like a brat but he loved it, he loved making you suffer knowing he was going to make up for it by the end of the night with you under him, begging for more of him.

You let out a semi loud moan once his lips closed around your clit, another one of his fingers slipping into you unannounced. “Fuck, Tey” Random curse words were leaving your mouth just to help silence your horribly loud moans, holding your husbands head close to your body as he devoured every last bit of you. To say you where in love with him was an understatement.

His long fingers were just enough to brush your cervix and Neteyam always took advantage of that, gently pushing you over the edge till you had been trembling under him. He sucked harshly against your clit as your heels dug against his shoulders, choked out moans escaping past your lips.

Your sweet sounds were music to his ears and he couldn’t help but grind himself against the mat under him, his free hand palming his still growing erection. Your hips wind against his face without your control but he doesn’t mind it, it only made him harder watching you struggle the way you were.

“Teyam… Tsaheylu!” You beg your mate to make the bond, pulling your queue to sit against your stomach. He reached behind him and pulled his own without stopping the degrading movement he had against your cunt, letting you do the rest in connecting the two of you.

Your pleasure fills his own body hot and fast, and Neteyam found himself palming himself harder then before, speeding up his movements against you. He wanted to take his time but you both knew drunken sex was a fast experience out of pure lust, you wouldn’t even know you were done till you laid atop his chest at the end of the night.

“Neteyam…!” His name rolls off your tongue with ease since you don’t hold back, fingers clasping around his braids as your back pushed off the floor mat, crying out to your overstimulated clit while you continued to release against him. Neteyam was flush against you, not pulling away until he was sure he had enough of your sweet taste.

Finally, he lifts his head and pulls his fingers from you, watching as your release drip down them with a chuckle. “Your bad, peach” Your able to see his full face now and you can’t help but giggle, watching closely as he hovered back over you.

“Maybe you would look good with a beard” You tease, wiping off the remaining release on his chin and around his mouth. You lean up to his lips, brushing them against your own. You could feel his heart beating out of his chest as you move to his ear, letting your hand travel down between the two of you. His eyes widened once your hand wrapped around his painfully hard cock, practically holding back a whimper that threatened in the back of his throat. “Aw, baby… your practically suffering” You could feel the small beads of pre that left his tip urgently, placing soft kisses against his jaw. “However you want it, Mr. Sully”

His ears perk at that name and he almost instantly pulls your face in front of his own, capturing your soft lips in a rough and wet kiss. Your free hand untied his loincloth before traveling up his back, leaving light scratches against his blue skin. “Want you to ride me” He confesses against your lips and you couldn’t help but smirk, pushing against his stomach gently.

“The balcony” you mumble and his eyes fill with complete love as he lifts you up in his arms, carrying you out of your cave and to the big ledge that was connected to it. You called it a balcony to which humans would say because it wasn’t small enough to be a ledge, but it was safe to say you and Neteyam had your fair share of sex there. You even had a whole bed out there for when the two of you fell asleep watching the sunset. Plus, who wouldn’t want to make love while watching the sunset? Thank Eywa your cave was in the forest away from everyone else’s.

You watch as Neteyam sits on the bed you had out there and your eyes catch a glimpse of the beautiful contrasted sunset, a smile appearing on your lips. Neteyam’s eyes were burning holes against your body, mesmerized in how perfectly your shape shadowed from the sun in front of you. It captured every curve, every glowing freckle that was slowly lighting up against your skin, he could fall in love with you time and time again if he kept looking at you like this.

Your attention is fully turned to your mates body, eyes taking in the beautiful man in front of you. His legs were slightly open and his cock sat pretty against his stomach, the sun capturing the shapes of his abs perfectly. His arms laid calm next to his body but you could tell he was getting impatient, shifting every so often which made you giggle under your breath.

You let your knees softly hit the ground before crawling towards him, running your fingernails gently across his thighs till you were sitting right in front of his erection. It was clear he wanted to jump straight into sex and as much as you did too, you wanted to take care of him first, even the playing field a little bit.

“Y/N, please” His head is spinning from his drunken state and he’s becoming desperate as your grab hold of his length, stroking it ever so slowly with your eyes examining its every vein and shade of blue. A lot of woman wouldn’t be so obsessed with this part of their men but not you. Neteyam’s body was your fortress and you loved every last bit of it. He was so pretty, and his cock very much had been so too.

“Such a pretty cock, baby” The words are hushed into a whisper but his ears fall back and so does his head, butterflies filling his stomach. He wasn’t the only one with a praise kink. His tip was a shade lighter then the rest of his length but wasn’t light, and the width it portrayed made it hard for you to close your small hand around it. “Just hold on a little longer, sweet boy. Gonna make you feel so good”

His eyes squeeze shut once he feels your tongue glide against his tip, collecting the pre that was still escaping from him. Your tongue is exploring every inch on his length in under a minute, and you can clearly see he was barely holding on above you. His moans were hoarse and grunted, trying his hardest to conceal himself since you had been basically outside.

“M’gonna come if you don’t—shit!” His body jerks and your eyes meet his, watching his reaction as his balls meet your palm, his cock still buried deep in your mouth like you had something to prove. You knew he wasn’t going to last and that’s exactly what you wanted, you wanted him to feel what you did. “Please, baby. I… Y/N-“

His words only make you speed up your movements, chasing after his high. You could feel him pulsing in your mouth, and his hand reached down to hold the side of your head, more of in a comforting way then pushing you down. He was far too drunk to even argue with you, he just wanted to be inside you now.

And soon enough, he came undone with the loudest whimpers you had ever heard him let out, painting your tongue with the hot spurts of his release. His chest heaved horribly as you pulled away from his length with a pop, his eyes retracing back to your own watching you swallow its remains.

His cock was still painfully hard but you didn’t waste any time on that, moving up on the bed so you’d hover over him, allowing him to capture your lips against his. “So perfect” He hums, noticing a small bit of his release was still on your cheek. He wipes it with his thumb, sinking it past your lips with a chuckle.

Neteyam’s large hands slowly slip over your bare hips, waiting for you to sink down on him. His head was between your neck now, attacking it with wet hickeys you knew would leave a mark the next day, a moan slipping from your mouth as his fingers tighten around your skin.

“Come on, Syulang. I’ve got you” He reassures, taking one side of your butt in his hand, squeezing the pillowed skin as your hands find his shoulders for balance, his tip pressing against your very wet slit. You hold his head against you, letting out a shaky breath as you sunk down on him with ease, that familiar full feeling you were so fond of. Your husband hums in approval and in full pleasure, messaging your skin gently till your body met his and you were fully sat on his lap.

His tip was already brushed against your cervix without even moving, and your walls couldn’t help but clamp over him every other minute. “Oh my god, Tey” you pull his hair back as you lift your hips with the help of his hands, watching his eyes fall onto your own.

“That’s it, just like that” Your bodies become so close once you start, faces barely even an inch apart but you didn’t kiss, you wanted him to watch you. He reached undeniable heights inside you, bruising up your skin just to help you move your hips.

Soon your movements sped up quickly, and holding onto his shoulders didn’t help at all, you had to place both hands on the wall behind him just to gain stability. Your mate watches you in awe, as if it was his first time seeing you this way. Your hips grind against him the way he loved while your head fell back into the air, the both of you becoming slightly sweaty already.

Drunk sex always felt way too good but usually it was faster and much sweatier, this felt far too different. Even if your hips moved fast against his, it still felt like everything had been in slow motion. The way his hands held your delicate body in his embrace as he thrust his hips up to meet your own, how his lips parted in anticipation to kiss yours, Neteyam was so hungry for you—his body, was hungry for you.

“Gonna come, Pretty girl?” As if your whimper wasn’t enough to confirm his question, the way your hips moved way faster against his with your walls effortlessly clenching around him was definitely enough. Your body was calling for release and he could see that, coaching you through it with the simplest of words.

His hand leaves your hip and attaches itself around your neck, pulling you down to his face so your lips would crash into each others. His tongue instantly slipped into your mouth through your moans, holding your hips down so he could hit your deepest areas. Your high was approaching fast and he could feel it corrupting you, sitting up with you in his arms so you were literally sitting in his lap.

Your arms wrap around his neck and you can’t help but pull away from your husband, throwing your head back as you rode him faster then before, nails digging against the skin on his chest. “Ma’Teyam- fuck!” Your whimpers and moans are only motivating him more, the friction between the two of you was almost unbearable.

His large hand cups the side of your face and all that can be heard is the sound of skin slapping against another, your moans echoing the forest like a mockingjay’s song. “Come for me, Ma’Tìyawn. Talk to me, Baby” His voice is husky against your ear and it makes your body completely feral, leaning your sweaty forehead against your mate’s when you feel the pit grow in your stomach.

“Oh, Tey” You moan breathlessly against his face, pushing his hair away from his eyes to look at him. “I love you, I love you, I love you, I-“ He ceases your rambling with a sweet kiss to your lips, reaching down to rub your clit between the two of your bodies.

“I love you far more, My pretty girl” He hums against you and watches as your eyes roll back, you were so close—just barely tipped over the edge. “Now come for me so I can turn you over and fuck you like you’ve been wanting for the past week” With only a few last circles against your clit and strokes to your dripping cunt, you came undone harshly against his body, gripping onto his shoulders as you let out the most beautiful cries he’d ever heard.

Your body shutters against his and all that could be heard now was the breathing between you two, his hands reaching up to caress your face gently. “Fucking hell, what alcohol did we drink!” He chuckles, kissing the tip of your nose.

Both of your eyes traveled down between the two of you, noticing the puddle of liquid you had left on your mate’s abdomen. You always got so embarrassed but he found it so attractive, he wanted you to give him that validation.

“Hands and knees, Face toward the sunset” You slowly remove yourself from your mate, turning your semi-weak body toward the orange sunset, doing exactly as he requested. You had no idea how you were so worn out but the feeling of his hands against your back were enough to bring you back to reality. “That’s it. M’gonna sort you out baby, don’t worry” His voice is low behind you as he pushes his length against your slick, coating it in more of you.

“Your teasing…” you push back against him eagerly, earning a small chuckle from his lips as he leaned down, hovering his body over your own. His hands lingered over your body as he placed soft kisses along your shoulder before moving to your ear, taking it between his teeth. His body was so warm against yours and you could feel yourself getting hot all over again, leaning into his touch.

“If you don’t like my teasing, why are you moaning?” He questions cockily in your ear and you roll your eyes, pushing your arms out in front of you so your back was fully arched for him. The boy chuckled, pulling your hair away from your now fully exposed neck so he could access it, his free hand reaching down to line himself up with your slit. “Keep doing that, and you’ll wake up pregnant again” You hum against the bed with a smile, Oh how much you missed being pregnant.

“What if i wanted that? Our daughter is already three” His large hand clamps over your mouth as he continued to place kisses along your body, ignoring what you had just said. You were both drunk but he was sober enough to know this was just your alcohol talking.

“Ask me when your sober, My love” Some of his words are slurred but he speaks all the truth, removing his hand from your mouth and to your neck, tilting your head till he could kiss your lips.

Your breath is taken from you when you feel him slip into you all at once, and you quickly pull away from him with a gasp and your fingers squeezing the loom under you. “Your so… fuck—your annoying!” He chuckles, reaching down to pull your hips closer to his own, already stroking you at a steady pace.

Your body moves with every slow and passionate thrust, and a soft moan comes out with it. Neteyam is loving above you, whispering sweet nothings into your ear with that husked accent of his. “I’ve been thinking about this all. Fucking. Week” His breath his hot against your neck as he speaks, you could feel the sweat between you two and the heat you both shared against your connected queue’s.

Usually, the two of you would have a date night on Tuesday’s every week while his parents or your own watched your daughter, but this week was so hectic you didn’t have any time to do so. Much like Neytiri and Jake, your love language was flying or sometimes swimming. You and Neteyam would spend the night just holding each other, loving each other. Without date night, you two didn’t have any time to yourselves other then when you’d go to bed.

“Then why are you going easy on me? You know I love it when your rough” You know your words will tease him in a way he’d give in and that’s exactly why you said it. Usually the two of you would make love during sex, but you were so tired of that now. You wanted him to treat you like you were still teenagers. “Lost your touch, Mr. Sully?”

“Lost my touch? What are you saying, Tìyawn” You could tell his words were with content and not worry, and you knew now that you had him right where you wanted him. “Are you saying I can’t fulfill your needs?” You giggle and push yourself into him even more, earning a small groan from his lips. “My mate, you are playing a dangerous game”

“You know what I want, Teyam. So give it to me” His hand is clasp around your neck, tilting your head back till you could look at him with those big doe eyes you loved to tease him with. “That’s all you want, right? To please me?” Your eyelashes bat at him without your control, watching as his eyes slowly turned into voids. You had him now.

He didn’t even have to speak, only staring into your eyes as he pulled out of you, pushing back in with force and intent. Your eyes roll back and your body jerks up with every thrust he sends you, ten times harder them before. Your hands reach back to hold onto him but it only pisses him off, grabbing your wrists to cling together in front of you. His body was practically inside your own, laying on top of you while pinning your hands.

Your moans were much, much louder now and you couldn’t control them. He was hitting every little area in your body, one’s you didn’t even know you had. His cock wasn’t just kissing your sweet spot, it felt like it was the easiest spot for him to access and everytime he’d hit it, your body would shake under his. “This is what you wanted, right? Me to fuck you like your some teenage whore again? Ha. Can’t believe you said I lost my touch” He chuckled in your ear, biting the soft skin of your shoulder. You were begging now, so fucking desperate for him.

“Yes! Fuck, this is what I wanted, Tey. Wanted you to fuck me how you used to!” How he used to? Great mother you should’ve never said that.

“How I used to?” Of course your words make him rethink and come back ten times harder, lifting his torso from you to pull your hands behind your back, earning the loudest whimper from you. “That’s okay, my love. I’ll give everything to you now, and don’t even think about coming till I say so” there he was, your teenage fever.

It looked inhumane the way he was treating your body. From the way his hips snapped into yours, to how he held your hands right behind your back, and how he pushed your face into the bed to muffle your very loud moans. But it all felt way too good, this is exactly what you wanted and you knew he was the only man who could fulfill it. You never wanted him to stop.

“Right there! Right fucking—oh my god” You were so close to your edge it was torture. You were practically begging him to let you come before you had to, you knew you couldn’t hold it much longer. “Tey, I can’t… I’m— fuck!”

“You better hold it” He threatens, pushing your arch deeper. You let out a cry and his husband reaction was more then enough to slow down, reaching down to your neck to pull you up against his body. Your head fell lazily against his chest but your reassuring eyes told him everything he needed to know. “Safe word, pretty girl?” You shook your head and grabbed his, pulling his face against yours in a rough kiss. He wasn’t hurting you, he could never hurt you.

“I need it, Tey. Please… want you to mark me all over again. Give it all to me…!” You speak through your broken moans, feeling his tongue glide along your neck. Your body was screaming for him and the sound of your wet cunt around his cock was all that could be heard, that forbidden sound that brought you so much pleasure. His fangs are just barely above your skin, teasing you with his tongue and long strokes. You cry, begging your mate to sink his teeth into your skin like he used to, to claim you as his all over again.

From the second his teeth sunk into the delicate skin of your neck, to when he started to send slow strokes to your body, you felt yourself lose control and the only thing keeping you up was his hand wrapped around your stomach. You couldn’t take it, the pleasure was far too much.

He can feel your undeniable orgasm approaching and so was his, and at this point he couldn’t hold back anymore. His teeth remove from your skin, tongue swiping over any blood that escaped from your neck with his heavy breath beside you. “Look at you, taking my cock so well. Fuck, m’gonna come… want you to come with me. Can you do that for me?” You nod desperately, moving your hips against his to meet his rough strokes. “Touch yourself”

Your limp body is heavy in his arms as you reach down, rubbing circles against your clit at the same speed of his thrusts. Your moans and begs only grew louder, and Neteyam was on his very edge. “Did so good for me—Come, pretty girl. I’m right behind you!” His coaching words make you cry aloud, holding onto his body for support as you felt your orgasm slowly tipping over its end, rubbing your clit. faster to chase that high. “Just one more, baby. Need you to come so I can fill this pretty cunt nice and full just like you wanted”

“Nete—fuck, fuck fuck! I’m… Mmph! I’m coming!” He continues to coach you to it, and with one last snap of his hips and circle to your clit, you felt your body release it’s everything onto his. He shushes your loud scream while silencing his own grunts, fingers digging into your hips to pull you close, painting your gummy walls with his white, hot release.

All that was heard was your heavy breathing and the sounds of birds chirping in the air, and you soon found yourself collapsed next to each other on the bed. Your chests were heaving horribly, and the sweat that drip from your foreheads were now everywhere. You were so tired.

Neteyam turned to look at you but wished he hadn’t when he finally caught wind of the way your body looked. You were bruised, marked, and the he had done it all. He was the one who did that to you. “Great mother…” his words didn’t seem pleasurable anymore, voice just barely above a whisper. You turned your head to see your mate’s eyes lingering on your hips, fingers brushing against your skin.

“Neteyam? You followed his guilt filled gaze and you were finally able to tell, realizing your wounds. You feel bad yourself, watching his eyes and how they filled with pain. “Neteyam, It’s okay-“

“I’m such a Skxawng! I… I’m so sorry, My love” He reaches to touch another wound but your hands cup his face in time to stop him, eyes softening at his big doe eyes that looked like they wanted to fill with tears. Neteyam was a gentlemen before anything, that’s one of the things you loved about him so much, but as soon as you were hurt in any way, he felt like he had failed you—especially if it was his fault.

“I told you what I wanted, didn’t I? I’m okay, your okay, everything is okay” a small laugh leaves your mouth as you wipe the dot of blood on his lip from marking you, still watching his eyes search yours. “You want to make it up to me?” He instantly nods desperately, grabbing your arm.

“Anything. I’ll do anything, Y/N” You smile, he was so cute when he was worried for you. You didn’t even need him to do anything, you just wanted him close.

“Watch the sunset with me?” Your eyebrows raise slightly and his face softens, a smile pulling at the corner of his lips. Ending the night like this was perfect. It was almost as if you had just gotten back from date night. He leans down gently to place his lips against your own, relishing in the taste of your sweet lips. You were okay and he knew that, he just couldn’t understand how he could do such things to your body. This only happened when you were in heat or he was in his rut.

He lays back and places one of his arms above his forehead while opening his other for you, watching you with a smile as you cuddle your naked body over his. Your head is nuzzled between his neck and your legs are shuffled with his own, the light of the sunset reflecting off your skin. Neteyam grabbed the blanket from behind you and pulled it over you both, laying his large arm over you once you were comfortable.

“I’m still so fucking drunk” He sighs making you laugh while you drew imaginary shapes along his chest, leaning your head up to kiss his jaw. “We can sleep now” You roll your eyes with another laugh, imagining what it would’ve been like had you actually went to sleep when you told him to earlier.

“I love you, Pretty boy” You hum, hugging his torso. He looks down at your already relaxed body, leaning his face down to kiss your head.

“I love you way more, My beautiful girl”

Taglist: @angelsamor @mashiromochi @luvagirlsworld @doggyteam2028 @lu-the-ghost-reader @viajaeger @jakescumdump @myh3artt @erenswife5 @rinizitos @luz15sstuff

#avatar fanfiction #avatar the way of water #avatar #avatar 2 #avatar x you #avatar james cameron #neteyam #neteyam sully #neteyam sully x y/n #neteyam x reader #atwow neteyam #neteyam x reader smut #neteyam smut #neteyam gif #neteyam suli x reader #marking #atwow smut #atwow #atwow fanfiction #atwow x y/n #atwow x reader #atwow x you #atwow imagines

[slut4sugu]

𝐁𝐑𝐎𝐖𝐍 𝐄𝐘𝐄𝐃 𝐁𝐄𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐘— YUJI ITADORI X FEM!BLACK READER

[ʚ 🍓ɞ] summary: what its like being with yuji itadori! [ʚ 🍓ɞ] including + warnings: Yuji being a sweetheart, todo is def jealous lol, gojo being a bit of a matchmaker for you two, tooth rotting fluff, confessions over the phone, gentleman!yuji fr, totally did not go over board with the hcs today lol [ʚ 🍓ɞ] genre: fluff

#-WHAT ITS LIKE BEING FRIENDS !

ʚ 🍓ɞ he always holds anything heavy for you/carries your bag if your having a rough day | yuji is always so nice and caring, so when he sees you groan as your about to pic up your bag he quickly offers to do it for you. “Please don’t strain yourself! I’ll carry it for you!”

ʚ 🍓ɞ remembers most of the things you like/ are passionate about | your favorite Summer walker album? Karma. Your favorite candy? Trollis, most things that you like or love he remembers and loves hearing you rant about how good it is/ how much you love it each time he sees you.

ʚ 🍓ɞ let’s you have the rest of his candy/ food when you want it | he knows that some days are rough for you and wish you had your snacks, so he’ll make a habit of asking you if you want the rest of his food/snacks whenever your around. His heart starting to weirdly flutter every time he saw that sparkle in your eyes after offering.

ʚ 🍓ɞ keeps a hair tie on his wrist no matter how girly it is | since Yuji is the sweetheart he is, he’ll offer to keep a couple of your hair ties on him since you switch purses so often and you have a bad habit of remembering which bag they’re in. “No it’s fine really! I don’t mind at all. I kinda like them actually!”

#-WHAT ITS LIKE HAVING A CRUSH ON EACH OTHER !

ʚ 🍓ɞ hugs you longer than others | he loves smelling the scent of strawberries and shea butter on your neck when he hugs you, the soft smell of sweet perfume and body wash making his face flush. Yuji’s hugs are comforting and warm, never failing to make you feel safe every time your in his arms. So when he holds on to you for a few seconds more than others it makes you feel all the more special.

ʚ 🍓ɞ puts himself infront of you when he senses danger | he knows you can handle yourself as your a sorcerer as well, but as long as he has the chance to protect you he will take it.

ʚ 🍓ɞ always is the first to compliment your new protective styles, nails or makeup | something that yuji loves about you is that you always keep yourself looking pretty and taken care of no matter what day of the week, so when he sees you with some new braids or a fresh set he never fails to compliment the pretty brown girl in front of him.

ʚ 🍓ɞ is the first to offer his jacket when he sees you rubbing your hands up and down your arms or shivering | he wouldn’t be the gentleman he is if he didn’t offer his hoodie or jacket when he saw that the pink long sleeved shirt wasn’t providing you all the warmth you needed for that windy afternoon.

ʚ 🍓ɞ having gojo tease you two & assigns you both to missions by yourselves. | even if it’s a simple mission that doesn’t need two sorcerers he knows that you two have eyes for each other and can’t help but give his students a push in the right direction <;33

ʚ 🍓ɞ keeps eye contact with you when your talking in a group | Yuji loves hearing you talk about any ideas and thoughts you have on certain matters so he wants to make sure that your heard by keeping direct eye contact with you throughout the whole conversation. Fighting the urge to smile a bit when your eyes meet his or when you get slightly embarrassed from the eye contact.

ʚ 🍓ɞ asks you out over the phone late at night | you had woken up from a nightmare about being alone and had insictively called Yuji who picked up on the second ring once he saw it was you calling. After calming you down and chatting a little, he comforted you by saying that he would never leave your side and that if you needed him to come over he would. “ I’m so glad you called me.,honestly I wouldn’t ever forgive myself if I knew that you had went through that alone. It would kill me to hear that you were scared, your a really sweet person y/n and if you need me to come over I will because..I like you.”

#-WHAT ITS LIKE DATING YUJI !

ʚ 🍓ɞ long hugs and sweet words whispered into your ear when he leaves you for a mission | he knows you worry about him coming back each time even though he’s strong. So each time he leaves he gives you a longer hug than the last and presses a kiss to your cheek, nose and a soft peck on your lips.

ʚ 🍓ɞ lotsss of pda whenever your with him | Yuji has no shame about letting everyone see that he belongs to you, so whenever he’s with you his hand is always interlaced with yours or his arm is around your waist. He just has to be touching you in some way.

ʚ 🍓ɞ falls asleep easier in your presence | your smell, your voice, your touch, everything about you is like melatonin or a drug. So when he feels himself getting sleepy he’ll rest his head on your shoulder and hold your hand slightly tight even in a deep sleep.

ʚ 🍓ɞ surprise hugs from behind | your pink haired boyfriend will never get tired of hearing your adorable giggles fill the room your in when he creeps up behind you and gives you a bear hug. Small kisses being littered on your neck while holding close.

ʚ 🍓ɞ sweet makeout sessions in your bedroom to sza | Yuji’s kisses are sweet and loving, each kiss making your heart flutter and your body heat up. Giggles and smiles in between each one, making you feel like the most special girl in the world.

ʚ 🍓ɞ helps out with wash day when your too tired | now he’s definitely not an expert on black hair, but after seeing you do it for a couple months and watching a few videos in his own time about the products you have he gets better at each wash over time. Pink blush tinting his cheeks when he’s rewarded with a swarm of kisses afterwards.

#jjk x black reader #jjk imagines #jjk fluff #yuji x reader #yuji x you #itadori x reader #itadori x black!reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujustsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x black reader #jujutsu kaisen yuuji #yuji itadori #yuji itadori x reader #yuji fluff #Yuji itadori fluff #jujutsu kaisen fluff

[gh0stsp1d3r]

ℬℯ𝓉𝓇𝒶𝓎𝒶𝓁

request: THIS IS A WILLIAM REQ I HAVE i saw the movie and fell in love w him (ive been for like years but Matthew made me even more in love🥹) i was wondering if you could do a william x reader where the reader is in her like 20s and shes Mikes childhood friend, but she of betrays him cause she is with William. she had a pretty rough childhood n stuff so she has heavy attatchment issues (and she would like do ANYTHING for Will) @elluvzjamie

Warnings: Readers just as messed up, they’re like insane, cute insane couple stuff ig..?

“You’re dating… my job counselor?” He asked you one day.

“Who’s your job counselor?”

“Steve. Raglan..?”

“Oh…. I didn’t know he was your job counselor.”

“I didn’t know he was your boyfriend.” He was shocked, the age difference was odd to him.

“Yeah. He is. We’ve been together for like a few months.”

“He put a picture of you on his desk and I asked him about it.”

You smiled at that “He did?”

“If your happy.” He shrugged, leaving it at that. He didn’t mind, you were his friend, you’d stayed with him through everything. Even through the awkward middle school years.

The conversation didn’t come up much, because he respected you, of course. He still found it odd. But he kept it to himself.

You found out about his secret early on, he was scared he would have to kill you after you did but you didn’t mind it. And that made him fall impossibly harder for you.

———

“Will-“

“Relax. It’s the perfect plan. Besides, when have I ever been wrong?” He grabbed your jaw, making you look up at him.

“But.. he’s been my friend since like… forever.” You were hesitant.

“Do you love me?”

“Of course I do, will-“

“Do you trust me?”

“..Yes.”

“Then please, just go through with it. I promise, when we’re done we can go on that vacation you always talk about.”

You smiled slightly at the mention.

“Okay.” You said softly and quietly, looking up at him with eyes full of love and naiveness. He smiled down at you, leaning down and kissing your lips.

—————-

“M..ike..? What happened?” You mumbled, he was breathing heavily as he grabbed you, helping you up.

“They attacked you. Come on, Abby’s in danger.”

He was running quickly, he pulled out a taser on chica, shooting her with it. You stood beside Mike as Abby and him talked.

You all ran across the halls, Mike limped and was suddenly attacked by Carl.

“Abby, go!” You shouted, trying to go “help” Mike. You pulled Carl off, throwing the cupcake across the floor.

“Fuck, Mike. Are you okay?” You asked, as you got on your knees beside the man.

“I’m fine.” He panted out, holding his leg in pain.

“Are you sure?”

“I’m fine. We- we gotta go help Abby.” He said. You helped him up and he slung his arm around your shoulder as he limped around.

You both looked around to find her, instead, a giant golden bunny walked towards you both. You cracked a small smile, standing there as he stumbled back.

William growled, and Mike tried to tase him, but it was no use.

Mike looked at you as you stood back and watched as the bunny threw him across the floor.

“You couldn’t just leave it alone, could you?” Mike crawled across the floor. You followed Williams steps. “Lucky me. First I killed your brother, then I got your friend to betray you, now I kill you.”

Betray him? He looked at you, who was standing next to the bunny, unharmed.

“Symmetry, my friend.”

“Go to hell.” His eyes were full of hurt.

William laughed, kicking him, and knocking him unconscious.

“Wake up children. I have something for you to play with. This is gonna be so much fun.” He stood in front of Mike. “Little ones tell me you have a sister.” He pulled out a knife. “She will love it here. You, however, are finished. Farewell, Micheal Schmidt.”

“That’s enough!” Vanessa said.

Vanessa. She was interesting. She didn’t like you, that much was for sure. She thought you were far too young for him, but you don’t care.

“Drop the knife.”

“A little old for temper tantrums aren’t we, Vanessa?” William said.

“I’m not kidding, dad.”

he took off his mask, looking at her with disappointment.

“You may have forgotten your loyalties, but I assure you they have not!” He pointed the knife at the animatronics.

Abby ran towards Mike, you glanced back at them. Abby looked up at you.

“Y/n. Why-“ she started, but not finishing her sentence. You looked down at them in slight pity.

“You did great. Now, let us just finish this.” He looked down at you now, the smallest amount of praise making you beam.

“Now, put that thing away. And help us clean up the mess that you created!”

He said, talking about her gun. He walked towards her slowly, and you stayed behind.

“Come on. We both know you’re not gonna use…” she shot him, he groaned and was taken aback. The animatronics looked at her in anger. You looked in shock, but you knew he would handle it.

William yelled, and threw her gun onto the floor.

“You had one job. One. Keep him in the dark, and kill him if he got too close.”

“That’s two jobs.”

He choked her, pinning her against a machine. You looked back at Abby, and quickly put a knife to her throat.

“Y/n!” She yelled, she stood still, scared for her life. Her drawing fell onto the floor.

“Abby, Abby, Abby. I tried to leave you alone. I really didn’t want to do this.” You sighed, shaking your head to yourself.

“Y/n, you don’t have to-whatever he’s telling you-“ she tried desperately, sobbing and clawing at your arm.

“I love him. And I’ll do anything for him. Even if that includes betraying you and your brother.”

William smiled at the sight, how cute, he thought. His daughter was now unconscious on the floor. But that didn’t matter when he could start a new life with you, who would do anything for him.

#william afton x you #william afton x reader #william afton #matthew lillard #matthew lillard x reader #fnaf x y/n #fnaf x you #fnaf x reader #fnaf movie

[moonlightsolo]

the spirit tree.

summary: after lo’ak goes missing outside of the reef, neteyam is forced to keep a better eye on his brother. neytiri finally confronts you on what neteyam means to you. tsireya reveals the metkayinas spirit tree, where you can connect with your ancestors. 

pairing: neteyam sully x fem!na’vi/human reader

warnings: almost spicy content but not quite, just smooching/heavy kissing, nete being a gentleman <3 

note: there’s gonna be one more part to this series, which is almost finished and will be released sometime this week! part 1, 2, 3 here! also my gif :p

part one | part two | part three | part five

“it’s lo’ak. he went outside of the reef and he’s missing.” kiri‘s shaky voice mutters out. 

she watches how your face falls from her words, how your breathing picks up and an evident shiver wracks your body. your hand instinctively wraps around her wrist in attempt to save yourself from your own overactive mind. 

what if something bad happened to him? neteyam would never be able to forgive himself. it would be your fault that you had him distracted from keeping an eye on his brother. 

“i need to go find him.” your eyes search the glowing water for your ilu, ready to summon her. 

before you could even act upon your rash idea, four tsuraks soar above the village with metkayina men sitting on the saddles. their voices loudly call out lo’ak’s name as they fly over the water.

“look!” she points up at the sky, making your eyes shift from the water and to her face, “they have it under control. you cannot put yourself in danger too, neteyam would never forgive me if i let you go out there. we have to go find him and my dad.” kiri’s soft voice calms down your heroic efforts. 

she gently takes your hand to lead you to the main part of the village, where some villagers are gathered around. 

before you could even try to find neteyam in the crowd, kiri starts to weave and bob through the mob of people. “excuse me. coming through.” kiri repeats as you dodge past their elbows. 

she finally makes it to an opening that overlooks the water, letting go of your hand to walk over to her mom. tonowari and jake are standing near the edge having a heated discussion with ao’nung standing off to the side. 

your eyes skim over the people standing around, until you spot his dark blue skin that contrasts amongst the metkayina. 

“neteyam!” you call out, making the boy snap his head towards your voice and his braids swing wildly from the force of his head. the stressed expression on his face softens at the sight of you. 

the tall boy takes a few large strides towards you, his arms wrap around your head to pull you closer to him. “lo’ak better come back in one piece so i don’t rip that fish boys head off.” he mumbles quietly enough only for you to hear. 

you can’t help but look up at him with wide eyes, making him chuckle from the look you give him. “what? this kid ruined the only time we’ve had alone since we’ve arrived here and left my brother in the middle of the no where.” 

your arms tighten around his waist, shrugging in agreement. one of his hands cups the entire backside of your head to guide it against his chest so he could fully embrace you. he lets out a deep breath he didn’t realize he was holding, almost as if your presence could melt away any of his worries. 

a loud horn bellows in the night sky, making both you and neteyam pick your heads up. the giant flying fish touch down in the water right in front of you, a few of them yipping as they swim forward. 

“the boy has returned!” someone in the crowd yells.

“it is the sully boy! they found him!” another person shouts. 

lo’ak climbs off the back of a tsurak, and signs ‘i see you’ as a thank you when he climbs onto the dock in the water.

once lo’ak notices ao’nung above him, he goes to walk towards him but jake hops down to stop him. “hey, hey.” he urges him to stop, “let’s have a look at you, okay?” jake turns his youngest son to look at his back to inspect him of any injury. 

lo’ak doesn’t dare to break eye contact with the chief’s son, staring daggers at him. 

“he’s fine.. he’s fine.” jake says reassuringly. the words make the tightness in your chest escape along with an exhale, you and neteyam both sigh in relief. “just a few scratches!” jake announces. 

neteyam pulls away from you slightly to go walk forward, his hand sliding into yours instead.  neytiri is quick to push her way through the crowd, making neteyam stop mid step. you can tell that she’s furious. 

she hops down to where jake and lo’ak are standing below on the dock. her hands grip the boys arms as she looks him over, “i pray for the strength that i will not pluck the eyeballs out of my youngest son!” she growls at him as she motions towards his face with a claw like hand. 

lo’ak seems unfazed by his mothers words as he looks up at tonowari, “no.” the chief says, “my son knows better than to take him outside the reef.” his hand cups the back of ao’nungs neck to push him to the ground, forcing the boy to kneel before the sully’s, “the blame is his.” 

jake urges his family back up onto land, but lo’ak stops, “no. this is not ao’nungs fault.” he shakes his head, “this was my idea.” 

neteyams grip on your hand tightens, his breath shuddering. it takes everything in him to not lose his cool from lo’aks stupid choice to take the blame. 

“ao’nung tried to talk me out of it. really.” he speaks to tonowari as jake ushers him to hop up. lo’ak finally gives in, hopping up on the platform where everybody else is standing. “i’m sorry.” he apologizes as he walks past the chief and ronal. 

jake is quick to follow him, along with neytiri, kiri and you and neteyam. “dad you told me to make friends with these kids.” lo’ak stops in his tracks, trying to reason why he was outside of the reef, “that’s all i was trying to-.” he’s cut off by his dad. 

“i don’t want to hear it.” he snaps, “you brought shame to this family.” 

your heart drops from jakes words, eyes widening as you glance up at neteyam, who continues to stare forward. your eyes make their way back to lo’ak, watching how his eyes drop slightly but he doesn’t let his tough demeanor go. “can i go now?” he simply asks. 

“any more trouble, i jerk a knot in your tail, you read me?” jakes voice grows angrier with his son. 

“yes, sir. lima charlie.” lo’ak throws a dig at his dad, having an evident attitude. jake grunts and motions with his eyes to dismiss lo’ak, who quickly walks away from his family. 

you want to follow him, to see if he’s okay after that altercation with his dad. until jake turns toward you and neteyam, neytiri following the same motion. 

your heart drops to your ass, making you gulp from their stern gazes. “where were you?” neytiri questions, “yeah. what happened to ‘keep an eye on your brother’?” jake adds. 

“sorry, sir.” neteyam gives his dad a nod, his ears lowering slightly from being reprimanded. 

“come on.” jake motions to neytiri, “neteyam, go find lo’ak and make sure he gets home.” 

neteyam nods, gripping your hand tight to pull you along with him but jake steps in front of you both, just you.” he speaks to his son. 

neteyam blinks a few times from his dads orders, his head cocks back in a bit of shock, “but..” he goes to protest, and jake gives him a sharp look. “no but’s- just go. we’ll make sure she gets home.” 

neteyam let’s out a little huff, reluctantly letting go of your hand. he looks down at you, giving you a little smile before sliding past his dad and after his brother. jake starts to walk forward, forcing the rest of you to follow behind. 

once you reach the marui, jake shoots a indescribable glance at neytiri who’s in front of you. 

kiri instantly picks up on it, letting her hand linger on your shoulder as she gives you a smile that says, ‘good luck’, before disappearing inside the pod. 

jake follows his daughter, leaving you and neytiri outside. you can feel your heart hammering against your ribs, not knowing if you’re about to get lectured by her. 

neytiri lets out a breath, looking at you as she motions towards the edge of the netted platform. this was bound to happen, you’ve been lectured by the sully’s when you were younger but not since you’ve been with neteyam. 

once you’re far enough away from the marui, neytiri softly grabs your elbow to stop you. 

she tsks out your name, making your heart practically stop mid-beat, “i am not sure what you have going on with my son, or if you have made tsaheylu but…” she clears her throat at the end, obviously just as uncomfortable as you are during this conversation. 

“trust me. i mean no malicious intent with neteyam. we.. haven’t bonded that way yet, but i truly care for him.” you ramble out. you’re assuming the next thing she is going to say is that she doesn’t want you to be with him anymore. 

neytiri seems taken aback from your rushed words, one of her arms reach out to rest on your upper arm. “i see how much you care for him, as he does for you.” she nods, “you are different from us, but that does not mean your heart is.“ 

you blink rapidly, gulping down the growing lump in your throat, “my son has good intentions with you. i want to see him happy, but i need him to focus on his family too. it is hard for all of us to be here.” 

all you can do is nod, knowing that you would never be able to stop loving that boy. even if his parents disagreed with your relationship. 

wait… love? you love him? 

you keep your thoughts to yourself as neytiri talks, her hand pats your arm before saying goodnight and walking back into the main pod. you take a moment to look out over the water, staring down at the glowing bioluminescent reef. 

you decide to sit down, letting your legs hang over the edge as your mind ponders on everything that just happened. 

you love neteyam, and for some reason you haven’t realized that until now. 

your eyes watch the fish that scurry through the water, until you feel footsteps coming up from behind you. a warm hand grips your shoulder from above, making you turn to look up at them. 

neteyam.

his braids hang around his face perfectly as he smiles down at you, flashing his little bunny teeth you’ve grown so fond of. “nete..” you breathe out in relief, practically throwing yourself at him. 

he easily lifts you up onto your feet, his arms wrapped around your waist. “woah. you okay?” he chuckles as his hand rubs over the small of your back. 

you peek over his shoulder, watching lo’ak slip inside of the darkened pod to head to bed. this is your opportunity to talk to him.

you unravel yourself from around his neck, pressing your hands against his chest to pull back but he refuses, “what is wrong, my love?” his knuckles brush against your cheekbone with a concerned look on his face. 

“i think…” you breathe out, your heart thumps heavy in your eardrums, “i.. i’m just tired. i want to go to bed.” you murmur, trying your hardest not to make eye contact with him. you know if you would, he would be able to see through your lies. 

neteyam nods, but obviously he doesn’t fully believe you. he quietly sneaks you both back into the marui, tiptoeing around his sleeping siblings to your area in the far back corner.

he lays down with you, situating himself behind you with his chest pressed against your back. he leaves a soft kiss against your jawline once he snuggles against you which quickly sends you into a deep sleep. 

sometime in the early morning, you’re awoken by neteyam’s warmth leaving your body. you groan in protest, making him shush you by pressing a kiss against your forehead. 

“come on, bro. hurry up.”  lo’ak rushes him quietly. 

“what are you two doing?” kiri mumbles sleepily in the dark room.

your eyes shoot open to watch neteyam and lo’ak sneak out, and kiri is sitting up on her elbows with one of her eyes peeked open. 

“what is wrong with them…” she grumbles to herself as she pushes the blanket off of her body to stand up and follow. 

you sigh in annoyance, knowing you will have to go after them. you frustratingly kick the blankets off of your body, grumbling to yourself as you shuffle towards the opening. 

peeking outside of the entrance, you see a glimpse of kiri’s tail rounding a corner so you quickly take off after them. you scurry like a mouse, quiet but swift. you catch up to the girl, who is tailing them closely but not enough for them to notice. “i wonder what they’re doing.” she whispers to you, and you reply with a shrug.

the boys hop off the side of the netted walkway and into the sand, pushing each other around and laughing. by now, the sun has barely risen above the horizon, brightening the night sky. 

three other na’vi are standing in the distance, tsireya, roxto, and ao’nung. your eyebrows furrow as they all sit down in a circle on some rocks, “come on.” you motion for kiri to follow, hopping off the side to follow their footsteps. 

“i was hoping you two would be coming too!” tsireya waves with a bright smile, which you mirror. neteyam and lo’ak turn their heads to look at you both, pure confusion riddles their features. 

instead of sitting beside neteyam, you make yourself comfortable between kiri and ao’nung. he can’t help but stare at you from across ao’nung’s body, wondering why you decided to sit there instead of with him. 

“i told ao’nung last night to bring everyone here so i could tell you what happened out there.” lo’ak clears his throat softly before continuing. 

he continues to tell a long story about a very vicious nalutsa and a heroic tulkun at three brothers rocks. he thought he died, but the tulkun saved his life and kept him safe.

specifically one that had a missing fin, which tsireya instantly recognized as the outcast named payakan- who is also coincidentally a ‘killer.’

“i’m telling you guys, he saved my life! he’s my friend.” lo’ak looks around the group for someone to back him up, but receives nothing but worried looks. 

“my baby bro!” neteyam stands up and places his hands on lo’aks shoulders, “the mighty warrior who faced the killer tulkun, and lived to tell about it, huh?” 

lo’ak shoves his shoulders back as he stands up, pushing his brother off with a hiss. “you guys aren’t listening.” he huffs and walks away down the beach.

“lo’ak, i’m listening.” you shout. 

“lo’ak, come back!” kiri calls for him, but being the stubborn boy he is, he doesn’t listen. 

instead of chasing after him, tsireya decides it’s time for all of you to visit the cove of the ancestors. essentially, their own tree of souls. 

the five of you summon your ilus to the shore, tsireya and rotxo leading the way underwater to a cave. once all of you successfully pass through the waterway, tsireya pulls up to the surface. 

“we are here. this is the cove of the ancestors. our most sacred place.” 

high above you, stacked rocks sit high in the sky in a half-moon shape and floating rocks scatter the sky around it. your eyes take in the new environment, unable to contain the smile that breaks out onto your face. 

as the rest of you travel farther in the water, the sun starts to hide behind the giant planet that pandora orbits around. “eclipse is the best time of day to be here.” 

once the sun disappears and plunges the world around you into darkness. the water in front of you comes to life, a bright light emits from under the water 

“this is it. this is the spirit tree.” tsireya motions with her hand to the glowing water, making you lean over your animal to look down into the ocean. 

“it’s beautiful.” you glance over at tsireya, who nods in agreement. 

“follow me.” she slides off the side of her ilu and into the water, diving down towards the tree. you look over at neteyam, smiling softly at the boy before following her into the water. 

once your eyes open underneath, you’re welcomed by the bright-colored pink leaves of the tree dancing with the current of the water. 

as you swim farther down with everyone, you notice vines cascade down the tree that connect to the sea floor, and schools of orange glowing fish swim throughout the branches. 

tsireya signs with her hands to connect with the tree, making you reach around your back to grab your braid and bring it forward. the pink tendrils emerge from the end of your plait, coiling around a branch. 

instant peace fills your body once you successfully bond with the plant, your eyes flutter shut as you transfer to the ancestral plane. 

the ground beneath your body is warm; the smell of dirt fills your senses, a smell you wish you could bottle up and take back with you to the island. your hands reach out, gripping the blades of glass in your fist. 

you sit up in your spot with your eyes open, realizing you’re back in the forest. trees surround you as the sun beats down on your head, the wind rustles the leaves of the trees. you take a deep breath of the fresh air, before standing up to examine your surroundings. 

something amongst the tree line emerges, making your ears perk up. a forest na’vi. you’re not apprehensive, but more so curious on who this person is. 

as he grows closer, you realize he looks quite familiar. as if you’ve seen him somewhere, maybe he is omatikaya?

“maite?” he speaks the native tongue of the na’vi. the word he spoke makes your heart lurch in your chest; daughter. 

“dad?” you whisper out into the air. he nods at your question, a giant grin forming on his face. 

you can’t help but run forward, almost tackling the man with a hug. the warmth of his body is comforting as he wraps his arms around you, “my daughter. you have grown so much.” one of his hands smooths down the back of your head as you sniffle. 

you pull back to get a good look at him once more, seeing yourself in his face. 

a tear escapes from your eye, but he quickly catches it with one of his four fingers. he tsks, shaking his head, “ma child, do not cry. i must tell you something.” 

you blink rapidly in attempt to fight back your tears, “what is it?” 

“something is coming. a war that needs to be ended between the terran people and us…” before he could continue, the sky above you begins to flash wildly. 

you can feel the connection growing weaker as the world around you starts to chip away, “no! i’m not ready to leave yet.” you cling to him frantically as you look around. 

your father grabs your face, turning you towards him to talk to you directly, “my daughter, you are a strong woman. i have seen what you have overcome. you are the key to everything.” he embraces you once more just before you’re ripped away from each other. 

you let out a scream as you come back to reality, bubbles escaping your mouth. the tree in front of you is beaming wildly, making you look around at the others. 

kiri’s glowing freckles flash in sync with the tree as her body stiffens and shakes involuntarily. you rip your braid away from the tree, swimming over to her along with neteyam. 

you quickly disconnect kiri’s connection with the tree, making the water around you go dark. neteyam wraps his arm around her waist, swimming up back to his ilu with you following. 

he breaches the surface and lays her limp body on the backside of his animal, cradling her in his lap as he gives her air with his own mouth. 

“what is it? what has happened?” tsireya asks from the side.

“it was a seizure. we need to get her back to the village.” neteyam looks down at you, his big eyes full of worry. 

“go! get her to the village!” you urge him.

“let’s go! let’s move!” he calls out to his ilu, making it accelerate speedily back towards home. 

you swim to your ilu, taking one last glance at the darkened tree before taking off after everyone else. once you make it back to the island, you hop off your ilu and sprint through the village to the marui. 

neteyam is outside pacing, stressfully running a hand through his braids. inside, kiri is laid on the floor ontop of a blanket with neytiri and tuk by her side. jake is in the corner, using a radio to talk to norm and max. 

“hey!” you call out to him breathlessly, obviously strained from running all this way.

once he sees you, his tense shoulders drop a little farther away from his ears. he seems so relieved to see you. he steps forward to meet you in the middle, his arms embracing your body tightly. 

“i didn’t know what to do.” he whispers helplessly, his voice strained from the growing lump in his throat. “you did everything you could, ‘teyam. she’s breathing right now because of you.” 

he shakes his head, looking down at his feet between your bodies. you watch his lower lip begin to quiver as his emotions take over. 

your hand cups his cheek to pull him down to you, his face nuzzles into the crook of your neck as his body trembles under your touch. you softly shush him, rubbing his back as he silently weeps into your shoulder. 

once the eclipse ceases, the sun brightens the sky and brings in norm and max with their gear. you sit outside the marui in the sand, not wanting to take up space for them to help kiri. your finger absentmindedly draws shapes in the sand until the sea comes up to wash it away. 

the two sully brothers make their way over to you, neteyam plops down beside you and lo’ak on the other side of him. “what are you doing?” lo’ak asks, peeking over at you with curious eyes. 

“passing time.” you hum softly, giving him a soft smile before it drops off of your face and you look back down at the white sand.

“you okay?” neteyam questions, one of his arms wrap around your shoulders as his head cranes down to look at your face. 

“i’m fine.” you mumble simply, making him pull back from you to shoot lo’ak a worried look. 

the younger boy shrugs, not sure what to do or say. neteyam motions with his head for his brother to leave, which lo’ak complies to but not without a exaggerated sigh. 

“what happened at the spirit tree?” he questions, making your shoulders fall even more. your finger continues to carve patterns into the sand, not daring to look up at him because you know you will cry. 

“nothing, neteyam.” you breathe out, letting your head fall into your bent knees. 

“i will keep bothering you if you don’t tell me.” he softly lets his fingers dance down your back. 

“i..” you trail off, trying to calm down your emotions before you continue, “i saw my father. for the first time at the spirit tree. i was torn away from him, i couldn’t say goodbye and we were back in the forest..” your voice cracks, making your body shudder, “i miss it, i miss it so much.” 

neteyam notices the emotion in your voice, making him pull your body into his side. before he could say anything, lo’ak yells from the far side of the beach. “she’s awake!” 

his head turns to look at his brother, then back down to you, “i’ll be back, okay? stay here.” 

you shake your head as you lift your head, wiping your tears away as you sniffle. “no, no. i’m fine. i want to see her.”

he nods and grabs your hand to bring you back home, “c’mon.” 

kiri is happy to see you, but you’re quickly ushered away by neytiri to let her rest. tuk stays by the girls side the entire time, reading stories to her and getting her anything she possibly could need. 

you decide to lay in one of the hammocks in the marui as your hands make themselves busy by beading a new top for yourself. 

a loud conch horn blows, startling you and making you sit up, “what is that?”

commotion outside of the pod makes you slide out of the hammock to walk outside.

the metkayina leap off of their maruis and into the water, calling their bonded animals to swim out to sea. your eyes look over the busy water in attempt to find out what all the commotion is about. 

you gasp in shock as a tulkun leaps out of the ocean, before falling back into the water with a giant splash. 

“the tulkun have returned! everybody, our brothers and sisters have returned!” tsireya calls out as her people whoop in excitement around her. 

“come on!” neteyam appears from behind you, his hand gripping yours to pull you along to the edge of the walkway. he leaps off with you right behind him, his ilu catching you both. 

he takes off towards the reunion, soaring through the water above the surface until he reaches the chaos of tulkuns and villagers. 

metkayina fly above your heads on their tsuraks, and fill the water with their ilus- it seems every na’vi is out here right now. 

you lean over to look up at neteyam’s face, a giant grin pulled up on his lips. he lets out a little laugh before turning towards you, “this is amazing.” he mumbles in awe. 

everyone begins to dive under the water to greet their brothers and sisters, making you point for him to follow. you both take deep breaths before plunging into the depths of the sea. it’s even more magnificent down here. 

watching the metkayina interact with their tulkuns makes you a tiny bit jealous, wishing you could have a bond like that with such a clever animal. not that the ilu’s aren’t, but the tulkun are family members of the metkayina. 

you hold onto neteyam tightly as his guides his ilu through the water, seemingly leaving the area where the tulkun are meeting. you tap his arm, pointing to go back but he shakes his head no with a little cheeky grin. 

neteyam continues through the ocean, weaving through the rocks and coral, and passing through schools of fish. he finally breaches the surface near the shore, hopping off and pulling himself up onto the bouncy platform. 

“what are we doing? i want to go back.” you grumble, but still take his hand when he reaches out to help you up. “just follow me.” 

he continues to hold your hand, leading you back to the marui. he came back because he wanted to go home? seriously? 

you stop in your tracks, stubbornly refusing to walk inside. “what are you doing?” he questions after head whips towards you, looking you up and down. 

“we came back here just to go home?” you bite back, a little too sassily for his liking. the boy rolls his eyes, and turns around towards you. 

his other hand grips your chin to angle your face up so he could lean down to kiss you. instead of pressing his lips against yours, he hovers. his warm breath fans over your face while his heavy-lidded eyes scan your expression. he’s such a tease. 

“i decided it would be best to use the empty village to finish what we started yesterday.” 

you evidently shudder from his words, a heat growing low in your belly. you guess it makes sense, being all alone and knowing nobody will be coming to bother you guys for a while. 

neteyam lets out a breathy laugh, watching your brain go into overdrive as the thoughts roll through your mind. he uses both of his hands to cup under your jaw as he finally leans in to kiss you. the boy is hungry, and desperate for every single part of you. 

he presses his body weight into your own, making you stumble into the outside wall of the pod. one of his knees spread your legs, slotting itself between your thighs. 

his knee presses against your center, making you suck in a sharp breath. he uses this as an opportunity to deepen the kiss, wiggling his tongue past your lips. 

your fingers slightly dig into his sides, in attempt to pull him into you even closer. neteyam leans back from the wall, his mouth still on yours as he leads you inside. 

both pairs of your feet disregard anything on the ground, knocking everything to the side as he guides you to the very back of the marui. he huffs into the kiss, somehow continuing to kiss you as he lays you down on the floor. 

your lips slightly disconnect as your head hits your pillow, giving him a moment to move along your jaw. he leaves wet kisses down your neck, his teeth slightly nipping the skin. 

your hands card through his braids, nails slightly scratching his scalp which earns a melodic purr from him. the sound makes your insides do somersaults, your legs instinctively wrap around his body to pull your hips together. 

another magnificent sound tumbles from his wet lips against your skin. neteyam pauses and lays his forehead against your shoulder. 

“you okay?” your hand pushes his head away from you so you could get a good look at him. 

his eyes dart over your face, “i’m fine, i promise. i just…” he sighs and squeezes his eyes shut as if he’s internally battling himself, “i don’t want to take advantage of you.” 

your face screws up in confusion as you wait for him to continue, “mating is a complicated thing. we are meant to mate before eywa, to make tsaheylu and…” he trails off. 

“and marry… for life.” you add onto his sentence and he nods.

neteyam is not the innocent boy he’s made out to be, and is definitely not traditional with the entire ‘absinence before marriage’ thing, “but you’ve had sex with other girls?” you question him, already knowing the answer to this question. 

word travels fast in the omatikaya clan.

the boy slightly laughs from your question, rolling off of you so he could lay next to you instead. “i have, but they are not you.” 

your heart squeezes in your chest as you smile from his words. “that makes me feel special.” you murmur out into the heated air. 

“that is because you are special. i want our first time to not be rushed.” he confesses with a huff.

you roll over onto him, one of your legs crossing over his hips as your head rests on his chest. you listen to his quickened heartbeat begin to slow down, “ma neteyam, i see you.” 

“i see you.” he replies and presses a kiss against your forehead. 

the two of you lay there in silence wrapped in each others embrace and growing more sleepy by the second. soon, gray clouds cover the blue sky and raindrops patter against the roof of the marui. 

you and neteyam are tangled together as you drift off to sleep in each others arms. 

the rest of sully family returns from the celebration of the tulkun arriving, walking in on you two sleeping alongside each other. 

“aww, they’re so cute!” tuk whispers as she sneaks over to you both, pulling a blanket over your bodies. 

they continue on quietly inside the hut, preparing dinner and lighting a fire. 

once you awaken, neteyam is no longer next to you and instead is replaced by a pillow. you turn over onto your side to see him sitting with his parents talking, making them laugh as always. 

until tonowari appears in front of the entrance, making your blood run cold. their soft chatter halts as jake and neytiri get up to walk outside to speak to him. 

neytiri is the first to come back in, huffing frustratingly as she busies herself by cutting up food on a board. 

“mom? what’s going on?” neteyam questions quietly, almost whispering. 

you take the moment to close your eyes, pretending to still be asleep so you could listen. 

“the sky people- they are here looking for us. destroying villages. tearing them apart.” her chopping grows more erratic. somebody walks inside of the hut, most likely jake, that sits down next to neytiri and neteyam. 

“we must hunt this demon. trap him. kill him.” she begs desperately. 

“we’ve got to be smart. if we hit quartich they’re gonna know where we are and they’re gonna come here with everything they’ve got.” jake explains to neytiri. 

“then what is our plan?” she huffs. 

“i don’t have one right now. i need to speak more with tonowari.” jake sighs. 

“dad, i can fight whenever the time comes. i will train y/n too. she will be a great warrior alongside me.” his offer makes your heart soar into the clouds. 

“good idea, boy. help her with her combat skills so she can fight when the time comes.“ jake agrees. 

….

neteyam has accompanied lo’ak out in the water, by the order of his parents to ‘keep an eye on him,’ but you weren’t invited.

you’re left with kiri and tuk to help prepare dinner, but every movement you make is exaggerated from your attitude.  

kiri and tuk glance at each other worryingly, wondering what has gotten you in this mood.

you huff as you shove the cutting board away from you, swiftly standing on your feet to storm away from them to your designated corner. you pull out a book to read, eyes skimming over the pages that you dread reading. 

“ugh!” you groan to yourself, slamming the book shut and turning over on your side to stare at the weaved wall. 

kiri and tuk turn to look at you, then they glance at each other again. tuk stands up from her spot, slowly creeping over to you. her soft voice calls out your name, making your tense shoulders drop slightly. 

your head angles back to look at her, “hey tuk.” 

“are you okay?” she sits down, folding her legs under her body. 

“i’m okay. i just have a lot on my mind.” you slightly laugh to keep your problems humorous instead of sulking. 

“do you want some food? me and kiri can make you something!” she chirps happily and slightly bounces in her seat. 

“no, no. i’m okay, really. i’m not hungry.” you mumble. 

“then… do you want to go out to the beach and play?” she asks a little shyly. 

as much as you would like to rot away in this corner, you cannot say no to her. “of course. let’s go, tuk.” 

the girl squeals in excitement and grabs your hand to help you stand up. she pulls you outside and down to the beach, “let’s build a sand castle!” she plops down on the ground and starts to pile the sand. 

you sit down next to her to help push the sand, patting down the wet stuff that stays into place. tuk starts to build up towers, looking a little wonky which makes her giggle. 

her eyes glance up, then back down at the castle before she double-takes something behind you, “uh oh.” she looks really worried, making your head turn to see what she is looking at. 

your heart drops at the sight of tonowari leading lo’ak, tsireya, ao’nung, rotxo, and neteyam to the center of the village with ronal tailing them.

“oh shit.” you mutter out as your eyes stay glued to them as they walk by on the walkway. “i wonder what happened to get them escorted by them.” you snort as you continue to help tuk build the castle. 

“probably something bad… like always.” she rolls her eyes as she pats down the sand to make the top flat. 

you continue to slap sand higher up and dig little holes with your fingers that are supposed to be windows. tuk finally finishes it off with a few shells to decorate it, clapping her hands with a laugh. “all done!” she stands up to walk to the water and rinse her hands off, which you do the same. 

just as you both are about to go back home, neteyam rushes by following his parents who are following lo’ak. 

“mom!” tuk yells out, making neytiri turn her heads toward you both. 

“tuk! what are you doing?” she looks over you, then at the mound of sand behind you. “come.” she ushers you both with her hand. 

“let’s go, tuktuk.” you lift the little girl onto the walkway before climbing up yourself to follow them. she quickly grabs ahold of her mothers hand before she is rushed away. 

neteyam slows down to walk beside you, “so what happened now?” you ask flatly. 

“lo’ak, he bonded with the outcast. payakan is not the killer he is made out to be and tsireya’s parents don’t believe him.” neteyam whispers to you.

“i could have told you that.” you almost laugh, “i wish i would have been there to see.” 

“i should have brought you, i’m sorry.” he glances at you in his peripheral vision. 

“it’s okay, nete. i had fun with tuk anyway.” you hum as you lean into his side. his arm instinctively wraps around your shoulders, “more fun than me?”

“oh, of course she is more fun than you.” you play around. he jokingly grabs his chest as if he was stabbed, “ouch. that hurt.”

“i’m sorry. do you want me to kiss it better?” you make fake puppy-dog eyes, blinking up at him through your eyelashes. 

neteyam goes to answer but he’s cut off by thunder cracking in the sky. rain suddenly starts to downpour, making you squeal and run the rest of the way to the marui. 

kiri had finished dinner for the family once you all arrived, the smell of the food makes your stomach rumble alongside the clouds. you didn’t realize how hungry you were. 

mid-bite, tonowari and ronal appear at the entrance of the pods, “a deceased tulkun was spotted outside of the reef. we need to hurry.” tonowari calls for neytiri and jake. 

“everybody stay here. neteyam, you’re in charge.” jake orders as he leaves with neytiri. 

all of a sudden, your food doesn’t look as apetitizing as before. you swallow the last bit left in your mouth, your worried eyes glance over the rest of the sully family. 

“a tulkun… dead?” kiri lets out an exhale. 

“it better not be payakan. i need to go see if he’s okay.” lo’ak goes to stand but neteyam is quick on his feet. 

“you can’t leave. it’s not safe.” he gently pushes his brother back, but lo’ak puts up a fight. 

“i don’t care. let me through.” the younger boy tries to get around him, but neteyam steps in front of him again. 

“no. it’s them. they’re here looking for us, bro. the rda. the sky people.” neteyam warns him. lo’ak stops his efforts of trying to escape, taking a step back. 

“they’re here?” kiri looks around worriedly, “do they have spider with them?” 

neteyam looks at kiri over his brothers shoulder, “i don’t know, but i know they just burnt down an entire village not too far from here all because they couldn’t find anything.” 

your heart sinks as you listen to neteyam. 

are the sky people really going to find you and the sully family? if they would burn down an entire village for not finding any information, what will they do if they find you here?

-

tags: @k----a27s @aspenreadsfanfic @aliseaaah @bellwhether @xoxobabe @koalalafications @embersfae @mae-is-crazy @softhetixx @minkyungseokie @iwanttohitmyself @neqeyam @lovedbychoi @lala-1516 @jbxws @ancientbeing10 @angrycoffeebean @taleiak @nyenye @vivangothic @theunfortunateplace @jakesully-sbabygirl @urdeadpoet

also same thing goes for this one. no feedback = blocked (jk) 😈

#avatar twow #neteyam #neteyam sully #neteyam sully x reader #neteyam sully x you #neteyam sully x y/n #neteyam sully x omaticaya!reader #neteyam sully x na’vi reader #neteyam sully x human reader #neteyam x reader #neteyam x you #neteyam x y/n #neteyam x na'vi!reader #neteyam x omaticaya!reader #neteyam x human reader #avatar #avatar x reader #atwow smut #neteyam sully smut #avatar x oc #avatar x y/n #avatar x human reader #i see you series

[pearl-blue-musings]

heaven let your light shine down

Pairing: Lucifer Morningstar x Angel!fem!reader

A/N: this was something that manifested from shower thoughts and my current obsession with hazbin hotel. There’s none of this yet but there will be themes of manipulation, heartbreak, heavy emotions, fun times, spoilers, show theories, good times

Word count: ~1.8K

Taking a secret trip to hell from heaven wasn’t as smooth as you thought it would be. Sneakily arriving in the embassy through whatever portal Emily opened for you was less than ideal. You landed on the hard ground of heaven’s embassy with a thud and shook yourself off. When your eyes adjust to the dimness of the new world around you, you’re quick to cover your nose. You didn’t know much about Hell, but you were briefly aware of the smell it emitted.

You wrap your arms around yourself as you take in the sights around you. The embassy was strikingly see through and gave you a clear view of Pentagram City. You never understood why Heaven needed an embassy in Hell but right now you’re happy there is one. The weight on your back feels lighter as you realize your wings retracted. Oh right, you forgot that Emily helped you to retract and hide your wings as to not bring too much attention to yourself. However, being indiscreet was not an option. Above you a bright light where the portal is closing shines, alerting everyone within a 10 mile radius someone has entered the Heaven embassy.

Shit.

The bag you brought with you lays haphazardly on the floor as you try to compose yourself. A growing buzzing sound gets closer and closer to the gates of the embassy. It’s been years since you’ve felt your heart race in a panic over your life, and you’re not sure what to hold onto. Of course they saw you, silly! You can’t just portal into Hell and not expect some kind of audience. Simple, you’ll just go over all the things you practiced and rehearsed saying before you snuck out of Heaven.

The doors bang and clang open, determined and angry faces with mounted weapons pointed at you greet you. You yelp as Charlie, you remember her from the meeting, bundles toward you. Her horns stand bright and red atop her head, eyes ablaze with indignation. Behind her and to the right is Vaggie, her hair blowing almost ethereally as her poke arm is pointed at you. The porn star known as Angel Dust has all of his guns cocked and loaded, ready to take aim at your heart. There’s some kind of cat like demon and someone with a cane with an evil and calculating yet far off look in the back. And reigning above all of that is the king of Hell himself.

Lucifer.

You’ve only heard of him by name, never by face. Always being fed that he’s a deceiver, a true sinner, and disbeliever. He and his wife, ex-wife you correct to yourself, are the reason there are so many sinners in Hell in the first place. You gulp loudly and try to compose yourself. You clear your throat with a cough and start out your practiced speech. “Ah, hello! I’m-“

“What does Heaven want? Are they trying another extermination in a week? Well I’ve got news for you, we’re ready for whatever they’re gonna send us. We killed Adam and a bunch of other angels! We’re not afraid to make an example out of you!” Charlie’s commanding speech leaves your throat dry as you feel yourself shrink under their intense gazes. You see her and Lucifer approach you in a threatening manner. Your hands immediately go up and you fall to your knees.

With a wail, you cry out in pity. “Please don’t hurt me! I-I come in peace!” In the distance you hear a “hah” but keep going. “Heaven, uh heaven doesn’t know I’m here. Except for Emily, she knows I’m here; but that’s it!” Your truth appears to fall on disbelieving ears as they bundle closer to you. The point of Vaggie’s pole arm has gotten dangerously close to your nose and your voice gets stuck in your throat. You try to swallow the lump forming inside as you grab your bag. All eyes shift to your movement and you put up a hand in protest.

“W-wait! Please I’m here with good news! And evidence of said news.” You scramble in your bag for a couple pieces of paper and hand them to Charlie. “Charlie, please look at this with your own eyes. I swear I’m not making this up!” You notice her shoulders gradually lower and the horns retract in her head. The normal color of her eyes return to normal as she reads over the first page. Her eyes visibly soften as tears come to her eyes along with a smile. She blinks a couple times before looking at you. Her voice is soft and untrusting.

“Is this, is this true?” You nod as you pull out the second paper.

“I asked him to write his last memories down on paper. You know,” you begin to ramble, “when you enter Heaven you start to lose your memories of your former life and we’re not sure the stature of this regarding-“

Vaggie shushes you with a prick of her weapon as she slowly approaches Charlie. The Princess of Hell falls to her knees and reaches out a hand to you. With a soft chuckle she mutters, “It worked.”

You nod vigorously while taking her hand to stand up. “That’s why I’m here! I, I wanted to tell you as soon as I saw him.” The paper you handed Charlie gets shown to the rest of the group. They all lower their weapons and their guard as they start to smile. Lucifer slowly descends toward you to get a better view of the official Heavenly document. He walks up to you and eyes you carefully, noticing your halo but lack of wings. His eyes squint as he looks you over. You can sense he doesn’t entirely trust you and that’s understandable.

But does he have to be that close?

You cough and pick up the other paper, trying desperately to ignore the way your stomach feels and the nervousness that’s increasing. “I also asked him to write down his memories and he said “I was protecting the hotel and my dearest Cherri with my egg boys by my side. If you can please let them know I made it to heaven and I miss you all dearly! Okay bye!””

The whole group begins to laugh and cry at the words and news being shared. Hugs are happening all around and small chatter begins within the embassy. A warm smile grows on your face as you see new faith and hope restored in the demons in front of you. It makes you giddy with glee to see them look hopeful for the future, you start to dance a little bit to yourself. Momentarily, you forgot that a certain King of Hell has been watching you the whole time.

Lucifer clears his throat to get your attention. “What, what is this some happy dance? You’re not here to hurt Charlie are you?”

You shake your head, noticing the buzz of conversation happening around you. “Oh no! I want to help her. A-all of you!” You take a deep breath and wave your hands in the air to get everyone’s attention. “I was at the meeting. I saw Angel Dust do all the right things to get into Heaven! And it’s not fair that angels have all this power and don’t know what it means to get into Heaven! I wanted Sera to approve of the hotel because, because I believe in your mission! So please,” you extend a hand toward the crowd, “let me help you.”

With their guidance, the members of the Hazbin Hotel walk with you toward the almost redone building. Straggling behind you is Lucifer, unsure of just what another Angel is doing in his realm. Sure, he had figured out about Vaggie and was fine with that. But that’s different. You as an angel willingly came down to Hell to help, you must have some ulterior motive. However, he can’t help but have your words hit that soft spot inside him; it makes him want to know more about you. How did someone like you get on the counsel, and why would you risk your rank and heavenly status for demons? In his mind it didn’t make any logical sense.

You had heard the hotel was badly damaged in the fight and was surprised to see how much better it looks now. There’s still some renovations to be done inside in which you offered your angelic powers to help build and restore the hotel. Upon entering, you are greeted by someone who wasn’t at the embassy with you, someone you assumed was left to watch over the hotel in their absence. The aura he gives off makes a shiver run down your spine.

Alastor eyes you quickly, understanding immediately that you’re an Angel. His eyes squint and his smile gets more sinister if that’s possible. He trots over to you and sticks out his cane. You yelp in surprise and look up into his crimson gaze. “Alastor! Pleasure to be meeting another Angel so soon! There must be a reason why Charlie hasn’t killed you yet, allow me to do what she can’t.” Menacing antlers start to grow and multiply atop his head as he grows in size, his lifeless eyes never leaving your visage. You stumble backwards onto the floor and backup until you hit a pair of legs.

Lucifer puts a hand on your shoulder as Charlie stands in front of you waving her arms enthusiastically. “Um, Alastor,” she starts, “she’s here to help.” In that instant, the radio demon shrinks back down to normal size and wipes off his vest. He hums, glaring at you and Lucifer, the latter who had lifted you to your feet, before he retreats to his own quarters. You briefly hear him say “apologies dear Angel, you must know we’re still on edge from a few days ago. I shall see you again.” A sigh of relief escapes your lips and you lean back. You quickly scramble away upon realizing you fell back into Lucifer.

“S-sorry!”

“You alright there?”

The two of you spoke at the same time, causing some minor embarrassment. Although he’s shorter than you thought, it’s clear his presence, power, and personality can fill up a room. You feel your cheeks heat up, a sensation you haven’t felt in who knows how long as the two of you strangely keep staring at each other. You take a step back, skipping toward Charlie while asking, “hey can you show me more of the hotel?”

Lucifer watches his daughter walk off with you joyfully to show you more of the rebuilt hotel. He places his left hand over his heart watching the two of you interact. It ignites something in him and he lets himself smile softly, resting his weight on his cane. As he drums his fingers across his chest, he’s starting to feel the weight of the gold band on his finger.

Strange, he’s never felt the weight of it before, just what could possibly be changing that now?

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin hotel x y/n #lucifer morningstar #hazbin hotel lucifer #hazbin lucifer #Lucifer Morningstar x reader #lucifer morningstar x fem!reader #lucifer x reader #lucifer x female reader #my writing #i did the thing

[starrylothcat]

Hello there! I absolutely love your writing, I often feel bad I’m constantly littering your notifications 👉🏼👈🏼

I’m not sure if you’ve done this but I would love a hunter x f!Jedi reader with spicy prompt “make me forget today” with either side being angsty.

In my mind the dynamic between the two is similar to codywan- really close but duty comes first. Could take place during clone wars or bad batch show, whichever you think would work best! Can definitely be NSFW, whatever you’re comfortable with.

And of course, feel free to pass if this ask isn’t for you. I completely understand! All the love! 💕💕

Conquest of Spaces

Pairing: Hunter x Fem!Jedi Reader

Summary: You and Hunter give in to one another, your hidden feelings set free. It’s something that you both know can’t continue, but when you meet again after Order 66, are you finally allowed to have what you’ve always wanted?

WC: 3600

Warnings: NSFW, 18+. PiV sex, angst, happy ending and Soft Hunter Bad Batch. Reader is a fem Jedi, looks not described and no pronouns used. Takes place before and after Order 66.

A/N: Never feel bad for spamming my notifications! Oh do I love me clone and Jedi angst. Thank you so much for the amazing prompt, I hope you enjoy it. It’s fluffy and angsty and hopefully kind of romantic? Lol 🥹👉👈

“Please make me forget today.” Those five words, spoken in broken desperation, sealed your fate. “Please.

You didn’t mean for this to happen, to allow feelings to bloom between the cracks. You tried plucking out the weeds, clearing those aggressively growing sentiments from your subconscious but they resurfaced stronger every time.

Your voice shook as you whispered those words in his ear, grasping onto his armor like it was a lifeline, you knew it wasn’t fair.

It was unjust to both him and yourself.

He could have said no, pushed you away.

You could have attempted to hold yourself together, to put on the in-control, strong Jedi facade one more time, though that mask was beginning to fracture.

You weren’t sure how much longer you could hold it up before it would shatter completely into dust.

You were assigned to work with him and his brothers often, building trust with the team that few others had.

You and Hunter shared a strong camaraderie, a fellowship forged by mutual respect and dedication to your roles in the Republic. Your ability to understand one another with just a glance, how perfectly you fit together, could not be denied.

You tried to disregard the growing lingering glances, the way his tone would soften when he addressed you, or how he frequently invaded your dreams.

You could tell he was restraining himself, too. He knew the risks, the dangers of letting emotions divert you from your defined roles in this war.

Maybe in a different life, you could have more, but not in this one.

You locked those feelings away, though it was becoming increasingly difficult to ignore them.

It wasn’t until you returned to Kamino after a disastrous mission that you left that hidden chest of feelings unlocked, whether you did it purposefully or not.

You had lost most of your squad. It wasn’t your fault, but you were bearing the burden.

You had known Hunter was on Kamino for a short leave, and comm’d him to meet you. He was the only one you could talk to.

Hunter met you, knowing immediately something was wrong. Hunter listened to you speak, your words quickly coming out as quiet sobs, feeling lost. You were supposed to be a protector, a peacekeeper. You felt as if you were failing. You told him of all your uncertainties about the war, and how you didn’t feel like a protector when all you did was fight for something that seemingly had no purpose or end.

You don’t remember the exact timeline of events, but after you breathed those words, his arms were around you, pulling you into a firm embrace as you leaned against his armor.

He murmured that he understood, and the burdens of being a leader weighed heavy on him, too.

You had looked up at him, locking on to his honeyed eyes you often found yourself lost in, almost too gentle to belong to a born and bred warrior such as him.

Hunter’s face was so close to yours, that you could see the speckles in his cornea and edges of his tattoo where the ink had bled into his skin.

His musky, spicy scent overtook your senses right before his lips met yours.

Hunter’s lips were warm, his stubble lightly scratching your face as his tongue slid against your own, your previous tears now long dried.

He pulled away, giving you the chance to say something.

“If I’ve gone too far-“ He started, but was cut off as you pulled him back in, your body buzzed with a craving you didn’t realize was possible.

This kiss was more fervid, and desperate as he wrapped his gloved hand in your hair. You were weightless in his arms, your mind spun with excitement, guilt, desire, and regret.

You shouldn't be indulging in this, letting him whisk you off your feet as he carries you into a nearby weapons closet, his mouth nipping and licking at every pressure and pleasure point on your neck.

The door slid shut, mouths crashing together again, tugging off armor and robes alike as everything that had been built between the two of you was finally set free. The thin, fraying tether that was keeping your professional relationship and what you truly desired apart had finally snapped.

It was a moment of weakness for you both.

But neither of you stopped.

You didn’t know where either of you began or ended, bodies burning with need as he slid into you, his mouth leaving marks along your collarbone.

Hunter’s pace was rigorous, knowing you didn’t have much time. Even as he desperately pounded into you, his touches were generous and worshipful, almost like you’ve done this a million times before.

He knew exactly where to feel you, he knew exactly what you wanted and when you wanted it. He rasped between strained groans about how beautiful you were, and how long he’s been wanting this.

You didn’t respond, knowing if you did, it would make this situation even more complicated than it currently was.

All you could do was gasp his name, pulling him closer and closer to you, wishing that you could stay in this weapons closet for the rest of time, just you and him.

Afterward, as you lay sweaty and messy, awkwardly perched on a weapons locker, there was so much you wanted to say.

Instead, the words hung in the air with your heavy breaths as you quickly dressed.

You could feel Hunter’s eyes boring into your soul, not knowing exactly what to do next. Hunter broke the silence, speaking the words he knew he shouldn’t say, the utterance like blades piercing your heart.

“I love you.”

You bit your lip which was now trembling, tearing your eyes from his, unable to look at him.

“Hunter…”

Why did he have to say it out loud?

Guilt weighed in your gut, as heavy as durasteel, knowing you shouldn’t have given in.

You wanted to cradle his face, kiss him, run your fingers through his locks, and tell him you loved him too.

Of course you loved him. You’ve always loved him.

You wanted nothing more than to just be with him, but you both knew that was a fantasy.

The war was only becoming more devastating, more clones and Jedi were needed by the day to keep the peace.

Hunter was the one his brothers looked to for leadership. He couldn’t leave his squad, his family.

For you to be the perfect Jedi the Council wanted, you needed a clear conscience and a pure heart. That meant no selfish attachments to cloud your mind.

Hunter placed his thumb and forefinger under your chin, seeing your face darken at his words. He tilted your head toward him.

“I know you can’t say it back. But I want you to know.”

His lips met yours once more, chaste and restrained, before exiting the closet without looking back.

You almost called out to him, to return the forbidden words. Instead, you let him walk away.

It was the last time you saw him before the galaxy erupted into chaos a few short weeks later.

Everything you once understood, once thought to be true, was burned and spread with the ash of the Jedi Temple.

You narrowly escaped, losing contact with everyone and anyone, hiding on remote planet after remote planet, not staying in one place too long.

You thought of Hunter, nausea wrenching your gut. Was he alive? How many Jedi has he killed? Was he with the Empire now?

The thought of him pointing his blaster at you, his viroblade at your throat, the tender glint in his deep, brown eyes replaced with bloodlust made your stomach lurch.

It made you sick, wishing so desperately you would have told him you loved him, said it out loud. You wished you had not been afraid, tethered to the Jedi Code that now meant nothing.

As you wandered and hid, you found yourself holding your comm, wanting to contact Hunter.

You knew you couldn’t, but not knowing whether he was alive, dead, or worse, ate at your soul.

Whether it was The Force, cosmic fate, divine intervention, or pure coincidence, you would see Hunter again.

You caught wind of a smuggler offering credits for jobs on Ord Mantell, in desperate need of work.

When you saw Hunter and his brothers sitting at the bar in Cid’s seedy establishment, you thought you were dreaming, or stepping into a trap.

They just stared, just as shocked to see you.

You whipped out your blaster, memories of clones pulling their own blasters on you, firing without mercy as you begged them to stop as you barely made it alive out of the Temple.

“I-I don’t want to hurt you!” You stood your ground, trying to hide the fear in your voice.

No, no, no, no, this can’t be happening!

Hunter was the first to stand up slowly, your name leaving his lips in quiet surprise.

You gripped your blaster, waiting for the moment he drew his.

Tech stood up slowly next, raising his arms.

“We won’t hurt you.” Tech said. “The chips did not activate in us.”

“Chips? What chips? What are you talking about?”

Your blood was ice, stepping backward toward the exit.

“Please I don’t want to…“

Your finger hovered on the trigger, not knowing if you’d have to fight those who you once called friends, the man who you once loved, and still did.

Hunter examined you, as if not believing what he was seeing was real. Maybe you were a ghost. You sure felt like one.

Your eyes darted between them all, none of them reaching for their weapons.

Your body shook, tears in your eyes, never expecting to see anyone you knew ever again, especially not them. You slowly lowered your blaster as Hunter approached you, placing his hand on your wrist as your legs almost gave out from the adrenaline coursing through your body.

“Is it really you…?” You choked out, your blaster clattering to the ground. Hunter nodded, pulling you in close for an embrace, saying your name with such profound relief you could have fainted.

Hunter pulled away, his eyes swimming with emotion, as were yours. Before you could say any more, the rest of the squad were surrounding you.

You hugged them all, too, happy to see them alive, and not trying to murder you.

It was a bittersweet reunion, catching up on all that had happened once they convinced you they weren’t dangerous.

They explained everything.

The chips, the conspiracy, Crosshair, Omega.

Your mind spun, trying to process it all.

All the while, Hunter’s eyes never left yours in all the hours you sat at the bar.

There was so much you wanted to say, but it had to wait.

They invited you on their next mission with Cid, even offering a small cut of the credits when the job was completed.

You agreed, having no other option than to say yes, though it made you nervous to join them, especially since the Empire was already on their tail.

Adding an (ex) Jedi to the mix could make things messy.

They didn’t seem too concerned, as long as you didn’t make yourself obvious.

Hunter gave you a small smile, a knowing look in his eyes flashing momentarily, his hand coming to your shoulder as you stood up from the bar to head to The Marauder.

“I’m happy you’re coming with. We’ve…I’ve missed you.” Hunter spoke quietly.

“I’ve missed you too, Hunter.” He nodded, wanting to say more, but Echo was gesturing to him to go over the mission details.

He squeezed your shoulder. “See you on the ship.”

You stepped onto The Marauder, and not much had changed, besides Crosshair’s absence and Omega’s new corner of the ship that she proudly gave you a tour of.

As you took off from Ord Mantell, watching the planet get smaller as you ascended into the atmosphere, it felt like before, when things were more simple.

Eager for your next assignment, ready to serve the Republic and make the Council proud.

You sat in a blast chair, watching the boys talk and Omega peering over Hunter’s shoulder as he set the hyperspace coordinates.

It felt like old times. Almost.

The job was simple, at least that’s how Cid described it. You were to retrieve a package from an arms dealer who was expecting you in a small village of the heavily forested planet you were heading for.

You weren’t to meet him until the next day, so you had downtime the evening before.

Tech landed the ship in a small clearing on top of a hill, most of the planet thick with old-growth trees. A lake was nestled amongst the trees down the sloping hill a few klicks away.

The water reflected the sun that was almost set as two moons drifted into the sky to replace the star in the sky.

Tech and Echo were busy looking at the map, deciding the best way to get to the village the next day while Wrecker and Omega played a game of Dejarik. Hunter was quietly and diligently cleaning his blaster, sneaking glances at you as he did so.

Hunter was respecting your boundaries, not wanting to push you into anything too quickly. He wanted nothing more than to kick everyone off the ship, wrap himself around you, feel you against him, proving that you were indeed real. He assumed you were still weary of clones, which he didn’t blame you for. He was just happy you were alive, and safe. That was enough for him, if nothing else.

You knew he was looking at you while you were organizing your things. You desperately wanted to talk to him alone, about the last time you saw one another.

Did he still love you? Did he mean what he said? Could you even pick up where you left off, after all that’s happened?

You peered at the clones you shared the ship with, tears filling the sides of your eyes, memories flooding back to you of your time with them. It seemed so simple back then. But now…what were you? They were still clones but now untethered by what they were bred for.

You were free as well, though the Jedi Code still burned into your skull, finding it hard to forget. If you weren’t a Jedi anymore, then what were you?

“Are you okay?” Omega noticed you, your hands trembling.

You sniffed, quickly wiping your eyes. You could feel everyone’s eyes on you, especially Hunter’s.

“I…just need some air.” You stood up, shoving your pack under a blast chair. “I’ll be at the lake if you need me.”

You smashed the button to lower the ramp and headed out before it even touched the ground, before anyone could say anything to you.

Intense emotions swirled in your chest, briskly walking toward the serene water. The cool air of the evening calmed the ache in your being slightly, your hands still trembling.

The man you loved was in the ship behind you, and yet your footsteps led you further away from him. It was almost too much, suddenly being back with them, with him.

You roamed silently to the lake, sitting down near the edge of the water.

You closed your eyes, trying to meditate, focusing on your emotions. You honed in on the water lapping at the shore, the breeze rustling through the leaves, and the distant call of a nocturnal predatory bird.

You knew Hunter was there before he spoke.

“Everything is different now.” His voice was low. “It’s…still hard for me, too.”

You nodded, biting your lip, your eyes still closed.

“I tried to find you, to see if you were alive. But I didn’t want to risk endangering you.”

You slowly opened your eyes, focusing on him. He was looking right at you, his form illuminated by the glow of the moons.

“I didn’t know…I was afraid…” You stammered. “I wanted nothing more than to know if you were alive…I’m sorry that I never…” Your next words were caught in your throat as Hunter’s lips met yours, soft and loving. You were transported to your first kiss, all that time ago.

That ache in your chest was suddenly gone, replaced with a weightlessness only he could make you feel.

He pulled away almost as quickly as he leaned in.

He silently gazed at you, a hand coming to caress the side of your face.

You leaned into his touch, bringing your hand over his. “I never stopped thinking about you.” He whispered, his thumb tracing your cheek.

“Can I kiss you again?” He murmured.

“Yes.”

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Soon, you laid out underneath him, your clothes a makeshift blanket under you on the shore of the lake.

Instead of in a cramped weapons closet, you were free in the evening air, the endless sky above you.

You took your time re-exploring each other’s bodies, relishing in languid pleasure as the moons hung heavy in the night sky.

Hunter did not leave an inch of your body untouched, bringing you to your peak over and over again with his hands and mouth, making up for the lost time.

When he was satisfied you were ready for him, he positioned himself on top of you, his hair hanging from his headband, haloing his face above you.

He slowly entered you, moans leaving both of your lips, your hands coming around his shoulders, welcoming the stretch as he sank into you. It was mind-melting pleasure, feeling him so close and real.

Hunter stopped once he was fully seated in you, dropping his head to your side.

“I still love you.” His lips were right at your ear, deep inside you, but not moving. Not yet.

You cradled his face, just as you wished you did all that time ago as he searched your eyes for an answer.

Part of him worried you had just made the same mistake as before, giving into your carnal desires when there was still so much uncertainty.

Was this something you should be doing, was it selfish to want one another when others were still suffering?

You kissed him gently, tears catching on your eyelashes, his worried thoughts evaporating with your touch.

“I’m sorry I never said it back.” You traced his tattoo with your fingertip, his eyes closing, relishing your touch.

“You couldn’t. I knew you couldn’t.” He muttered, his brows furrowed. “I shouldn’t have put you in that position…”

“We can now. We can say it.”

Hunter’s eyes opened, a gentle smile on his face. “Then say it.” He pressed his forehead to yours.

“I love you, Hunter. I always have.”

He smiled as he nuzzled the side of your face, the world melting away as he began to move, bodies entwined as one.

You were boneless and safe in his embrace as his fingers and lips molded to you perfectly.

His thrusts were slow and purposeful, his eyes never leaving yours.

Hunter touched you like before, like you’ve been lovers for 100 years, mapping your body so lovingly, so exquisitely, so perfectly.

He was afraid if he didn’t intricately memorize every curve and soft swell of your body, you might slip away again, and he wouldn’t get another chance.

You locked your ankles around his waist, changing the angle. Hunter let out a low whine, his head falling to your shoulder as your pleasure grew.

You were thankful for the slight breeze coming off the water, sweat forming on your bodies as your passion intensified.

You lightly tugged at his hair, his name leaving your lips in breathy mewls, his baritone moans thick with longing, dropping an octave as you clenched around him.

Hunter brought a finger to your clit, drawing tight circles, his thrusts hitting you in such a way you couldn’t discern the stars in your vision from the ones in the sky above.

Your fingernails dug into his muscled shoulder blades as your body arched toward him.

Hunter was drunk on your smell, your body, his senses absorbing every small sound.

Your intense arousal filled his nostrils, tasting your sweet skin as he left open-mouthed kisses on your neck.

Your body was on fire, overwhelmed by his tenderness, his devout passion, wordlessly telling you how much you meant to him.

“I’m right here, I have you.” Hunter rumbled, pressing his lips to yours, feeling your body tremble as you teetered on the precipice of your final orgasm. “I’ll always have you.”

He swallowed your pleasured sobs as you came, constricting and trembling around him, sending him over the edge.

Hunter let out a shuddered groan, pressing his hips into yours one final time, filling you with his release, his lips still on yours.

Your hands delicately roamed his back, your eyes fluttering open to meet his as he rested his weight on his forearms around you.

Your bodies stilled, trying to catch your breaths, the only other sound the tranquil waves splashing on the shore behind you.

You held on to one another, not wanting this moment to end. Hunter left feather-light kisses on your jawbone, leading to your lips, sliding his mouth to yours for an immensely passionate kiss.

The future was uncertain and unmapped, just as it was back when you were Jedi and soldier. You may have to take up your old roles once again, putting duty before all else.

You made peace with that, knowing how you felt for one another would only make you stronger, having something real to hold on to as you traversed into the unknown.

Taglist: @crosshairlovebot @blueink-bluesoul @kimiheartblade @wizardofrozz @clonemedickix @din-miller @sunshinesdaydream @kashasenpai @freesia-writes @multi-fan-dom-madness @coraex @aconstructofamind @dreamie411 @dystopicjumpsuit @starqueensthings @idontgetanysleep @secretthegriffin @anxiouspineapple99 @sinfulsalutations @secondaryrealm @littlemissmanga @maybethatfanfictionwriter @pb-jellybeans @wanderer-six @king-chaos-world @the-cantina @wolffegirlsunite @dukeoftheblackstar @523rdrebel @sleepingsun501 @wings-and-beskar

Dividers by @idontgetanysleep

#Hunter x reader #Hunter x you #Hunter tbb #Hunter x jedireader #the bad batch #the bad batch fanfiction #the clone wars #the clone wars fanfiction #Star Wars fanfiction #x reader #reader insert #tbb Hunter #Hunter tbb x reader #hunter x fem!reader #sergeant hunter #tbb #starrycatwrites

[bidisastersanji]

IT IS HERE! the filthy french smut epilogue of the Zoro learns French story is here. Get it right here on this hellsite (ch.1 ch.2 , ch.3 and below) or straight from the source on AO3. Thank you to everyone who comments or screams in the tags you absolutely give me life

Special shoutout to @jooqlz for their wonderful art inspired by the story I'm still not over that check it out right here: (pt 1 & 2, pt 3, pt 4, pt 5)

And without further ado, please do not ever perceive me after reading this absolute filth. thank you.

--

Sanji had always been a very handsome man. A man so distractingly handsome that Zoro had to put effort into not noticing certain...things about the cook, effort to keep his eyes from wandering to dangerous places that would unfailingly leave him wanting and ears pink from the lecherous thoughts swirling between them. He’d retreat to the crow’s nest and train his impulses away, hoping that the heavy weights and burning muscles would ground him back into a relaxed, meditative state. 

It was the hypnotising way his fingers danced, so elegant and long when working in the galley- he simply couldn’t tear his eyes off them when they handled his impeccably sharp knives- or how deliciously taut and strong his calves and thighs would feel against him as they sparred. More than once had Zoro woken up breathless, drenched in sweat, uncomfortably hard and blinking away the vestiges of a dream where those deadly legs had been wrapped tight around him. There was just something so enticing about the resounding power emanating from Sanji- his mind going haywire from the knowledge that this man could handle him, meet him blow for blow all while cheekily throwing taunts and insults in his face. 

It was also how beautifully free his form looked when he jumped above him in a skywalk, the way his ocean blue eyes would crinkle when he laughed at the crews’ antics and how his soft blonde curls would catch the sun sometimes. Those moments were possibly harder for him to get out of his system, leaving him with both a heavy and fluttering sensation in his chest. 

And his ass. Oh fuck, his ass.  

Zoro was an ass man through and through: he’d sailed up and down the Grand Line and had never seen anything else like it. The cook’s proclivity for crisp, tailored suits that stretched decadently across his backside with every kick made it impossible to ignore. So many times had he been dangerously close to just reaching out and grabbing it. Fingers tensing at the primal urge to know how they would fit, would feel in his hands, it fanned the flames of an ever-growing heat in the pit of his stomach. Those perfect, round mounds of muscle just out of reach, teasing him whenever the cook bent over to retrieve something in a low cupboard or when he’d catch a glimpse of their bare pallor in the baths. No wonder he didn’t spend much time on hygiene- Sanji always took his damned time in there, and he wasn’t a glutton for punishment. 

The blonde also had a rather elegant neck, just begging to be kissed. To be fair, there was nary an inch of Sanji that Zoro didn’t think of kissing. For so long had Zoro fantasized about just tugging him by his tie or the lapels of his jacket to shut him up nicely, tasting his nicotine-stained lips. Which he had the pleasure of doing right now.  

Finally. 

He’d imagined this a hundred- no, a thousand times over, but it still didn’t compare to actually holding the beautiful man pressed against his body and hearing him let out positively sinful little whines of pleasure as they hurriedly kissed in the Sunny’s unoccupied first mate’s quarters.  

Brunch had been a rowdy affair as usual, with Zoro buzzing for it to be over as soon as possible, knowing the cook wouldn’t be able to relax until everyone had had their fill. 

The wait was worth it, he thinks to himself as one of his hands slithers its way down from Sanji’s flushed cheeks, enjoying the soft little exhales he lets out as his hand caresses down his neck, his chest, his narrow waist, his lower back, finally settling on his perfectly round butt. He pulls Sanji in even closer- the other man’s growing arousal poking against his thigh, firm and warm through the fabric separating them. Zoro treats himself to the enticing thought of that heat in his mouth but is quickly distracted by the fingers the cook had threaded into his short hair suddenly tightening, the pleasing pulling sensation on his scalp shooting down his neck like a shiver.  

Fuck. That feels good.  

Zoro can’t fight the needy groan that rips out of his throat at finally getting his hands on the cook’s ass, and his other hand quickly joins it, happily palming and squeezing it, fortuitously causing some delicious friction between their legs. He drops his head into the crook of Sanji’s neck, overwhelmed by the all-encompassing need coursing through his veins. Need to feel skin flush with skin. Need to make this man come undone and cry his name, over and over. This was a long time coming. 

“J-J’ai envie de toi...” he stumbles a bit on the delivery, the foreign words still unfamiliar on his kiss-swollen lips. (I-I want you...) 

Pressed up close, he doesn’t miss the high-pitched moan that Sanji tries to swallow down before he feels himself get tugged up by his hair, his eye brought back to level with the cook’s own. Maybe it’s the gratifying sting of his hair being pulled some more, or maybe it’s the heavy-lidded, wanton look that Sanji gives him, but he feels a shiver run across his skin. Nervously, the blonde’s pink tongue darts out to wet his lower lip, catching the swordsman’s eye. 

“Comment me veux-tu, abruti?” (How do you want me, moron?) 

Zoro honestly could go either way, but something in him stirs at Sanji’s provocativeness, and the following words spill out of him, words he’d have never said with a straight face before his run-in with a certain type of French literature.  

“Je-” his voice comes out raspy, deep. “Je te veux...plié en deux sur ce lit me suppliant de te prendre,” he starts, and Sanji’s breath hitches, his hand dropping to grip at Zoro’s shirt, steadying himself.  

“que tu te serves de tes satanées cuisses pour te bercer contre moi.” Zoro grins, confidence growing, feral at the sight of a lone drop of blood oozing from Sanji’s nose. “Et quand tu seras assez désespéré, je veux te faire jouir jusqu'à ce que ta voix se brise.” 

(I want you... bent in half on the bed, begging me to take you, using your damned thighs to rock yourself against me. And once you’re desperate enough, I want to make you come until your voice breaks.)  

He can almost feel Sanji’s brain short circuit in front of him. Things are a blur after that. It’s a race of getting each other out of their stifling garments, the singing relief of skin-to-skin contact, desperate kisses, nips, bites and nails pressing deep into Zoro’s biceps as he works the pliant man under him open with two lubed-up fingers. 

They’re both on the bed now, Zoro holding himself up over the writhing blonde, hair a sweaty, curly mess in a beautiful halo around his head and his legs hooked in a vice-like grip around his torso, arms wrapped around his neck. The messy, pleasured noises Sanji makes are positively obscene, shooting straight to his dick, and it’s taking all his concentration to focus on rubbing up against his sweet spot, just enough to drive the cook crazy but slowing down every time he can feel him clench hard, getting closer to the precipice. 

“Enfoiré! Si tu-” (Bastard! If you-)  

Sanji’s impassioned rant at Zoro edging him is immediately cut short by a third finger pressing against his rim, and he eagerly presses his hips up into the pleasant stretch of Zoro’s thick fingers spreading him even more, eyes screwing shut. 

“Mnh! Yesss,” he purrs into the swordsman’s ear. 

A wet heat envelops his earlobe and his three earrings chime against each other as Sanji decides to play with his them. Head foggy with lust, Zoro wonders how Sanji was so easily able to find this weak spot of his, his hand’s pace stuttering and slowing down at the sensual licks against his sensitive ear. 

“S-shitty cook-” 

“Bet you can’t say that in French,” Sanji coyly challenges him, a hot whisper in his ear. 

Zoro times his answer with a couple of sharper thrusts, making Sanji cry out at the onslaught against his prostate. “Cuistot de merde,” Sanji can probably hear his smugness in his voice. “What, you don’t think that’s one of the first things I asked to learn?” 

“You- hnng! You fucker, even in French you don’t call me a proper chef!” 

Zoro chuckles and decides this is a good time as any to still his fingers once more. Angry, needy eyes with blown out pupils crack open to stare deeply into his own. He takes the moment to wipe away the blood under Sanji’s nose and licks it, the metallic taste coating his tongue beautifully. 

“Fine. If that’s how it is.” The stubborn cook leverages his legs’ hold on him to fuck himself onto Zoro’s fingers. He slowly builds himself up again, simultaneously rocking on the swordsman’s hand and stroking his length with his own, and it’s not long before his eyes flutter close in concentration, chasing his release, brow damp with sweat. 

Zoro makes a little strangled noise, dumbstruck by how stupidly good he looks taking his fingers, how hot and swollen his dick is, and how the obscene wet noises and hypnotising dance of his hips are making the tip of his cock leak against his stomach. Why wasn’t he fucking him into the mattress again? 

Sanji’s breathless voice cuts through the fog. “You happy? ‘this what you wanted, mosshead?” 

Ah, right. He remembered now. “Close. I said I’d make you beg for it, curly.” 

“Fuck. You wouldn’t dare. Not again.” Sanji’s free hand shoots down to try and stop his thick wrist from pulling away. 

“I would.” 

Sanji makes a choked, desperate sound at the feeling of Zoro's hand starting its slow retreat, a small litany of ‘nos’ dropping from his lips as he once again feels his orgasm get away, his practiced hand stroking his dick not nearly enough to get him there at this point.  

Adorable. Zoro hears his blood roar in his ears at the sight, making a point to burn the cook’s desperate look into his memory. He’s aching to be inside him at this point, but unless he hears the magic word, he’ll keep holding himself back. 

After a few more fruitless pumps, head thrown back, Sanji seemingly makes up his mind. “Please,” he sobs. 

Zoro’s three fingers immediately resume their movements with purpose, pressing perfectly against Sanji on each powerful thrust. The swordsman is positively transfixed by the sight of the sweaty, flushed and desperate man before him, the shaky moans and gasps egging him on, driving him into a frenzy as he builds him up once more. 

-- 

Sanji felt dizzy with want after having been denied so many times. First, the stupid brute short-circuited his brain by whispering those filthy things to him with his cute stupid little accent, and then had the gall to call him a cuistot, and fuck! 

He honestly can’t even form a coherent thought at this point. He can only feel. His body is so strung-up and buzzing with pent-up pleasure, the mind-numbingly good stretch and press of Zoro’s fingers inside him and the stuttering jerks of his fist around his cock are all that his world have boiled down to, and nothing short of a buster call can stop him from coming into his lover’s arms. 

Distantly, he feels Zoro ghost his lips over his collarbone, whispering dirty nothings to him, licking up his throat, kissing his jaw... How dare he be so stupidly attentive, so good, so- 

“MMmn!” He bites down on his lip, hard. 

Sanji comes, dissolving into pleasure, rippling, splintering heat rushing through his body, muscles pulled tight as Zoro keeps working him through wave after wave, kissing his temple and holding him close as spurts of his cum stain their stomachs. He faintly registers that the moans and repeated cries of Zoro’s name and yes, more, please, right there are his own voice, but he’s too far gone to care. 

Once he’s semi lucid again, he loosens his legs’ death grip on the man’s torso, idly wondering if bruises will bloom there overnight. Chest still heaving, he opens his eyes and is met with a sight he’s sure to never forget. Zoro’s wild look of pure, unadulterated hunger as he licks a drop of his cum from his fingers would make his knees buckle if he were standing, and knowing he’s like this- a panting, flushed and sweaty mess because of him makes Sanji preen with pride. He’s barely even touched the man. 

Speaking of, he finally gets his hands on the broad, scarred chest he’s itched to grope oh so many times, letting his thumb experimentally start teasing a nipple. He drags his eyes down and wets his lips at the sight before him. He’d been right. Zoro truly has it all, and he can feel himself stirring again already. 

“Like what you see?” 

In lieu of an answer, Sanji reaches down and wraps his long, deft fingers at the base of the swordsman’s wonderful girth, earning him a little hiss of pleasure as he starts lazily gliding up and down the velvety heat. 

“Que veux tu mon grand?” his voice comes out hoarser than he expected, and the cook revels in Zoro’s nearly predatory gaze and the hitch in his breath. 

(What do you want, big boy?) 

“Mes mains?” His strokes get more precise, faster, taking care to rub the head just right. 

(My hands?) 

Zoro groans, and Sanji’s pink tongue darts out to lick his lips, smiling devilishly as he calls for the marimo’s attention there. “Mes lèvres?” (My lips?) 

“Ou...” he trails off and guides the aching, leaking length to his entrance, giving a little teasing wiggle of his hips.  

(Or...) 

The dark expression on Zoro’s face is absolutely intoxicating. His callused hand grips Sanji’s hip and pushes up, wordlessly encouraging the cook to flip onto his front. Still a little blissed out, Sanji grins and complies and positions himself on his hands and knees. The blonde watches over his shoulder as the swordsman reaches for more lube, lathering a generous amount onto his cock before aligning himself with Sanji again, kneeling at the edge of the bed. 

Feeling a little vulnerable, Sanji can’t help teasing his lover. “C’est pour aujourd’hui ou pour demain?” 

(Are you gonna do it this century?) 

And then Zoro presses into him and oh fuck- the stretch of each thick inch sinking into him is a divine mix of pain and pleasure that steals his breath away. The swordsman's’ grip is bruising on his hips, evidently doing his best to let Sanji get used to him before he loses control. 

A few moments later he must hear Sanji’s breath even out a bit and he adjusts against him, finally burying himself to the hilt fully, hands possessively taking hold of his ass cheeks.  

“Fuck, you feel so good wrapped around me like this,” Zoro’s words were going to be the death of him, Sanji thinks as his face burns like a furnace. He was sure of it.  

“Can I?” 

“Ye- mmn, yes go ahead,” Sanji spreads his thighs wider and braces himself on his forearms. 

He feels Zoro pulling out slowly, his fingers climbing up and digging into his slender waist, and then he’s being pulled down onto his dick once more as the man starts thrusting into him earnestly. With each slap of the man’s hips against his backside, each steady glide against his prostate, he feels so perfectly full, so good, and his toes curl when Zoro leans over and nuzzles his neck, his grunts and growls of pleasure a sweet melody he’ll never tire of hearing. 

“Tu me prends si bien...” 

(You take me so well...) 

Sanji bites the back of his hand to stifle a moan and keeps throwing his hips powerfully back against Zoro’s rutting. It feels mind-numbingly good to finally let go and be able to use his full force like this, knowing he can give as good as he’ll get. 

-- 

Zoro doesn’t think he’ll be able to last long if the cook keeps looking and sounding like that.  

Fucking hell, what a sight. His lithe, athletic form splitting itself open on each thrust, their bodies working together towards rapture, harmoniously in synch from years of sparring and fighting side by side. The swordsman briefly worries that he won’t be able to spar without getting distracted by the memory of this, of the blonde splayed out under him, back arched sensually and hands straining against the crumpled sheets. 

He’s not surprised that Sanji is a vocal lover- he expected it, has fantasised about it on some lonely nights in the crow’s nest. But he didn’t expect that each broken moan and sigh he fucks out of him would bring him closer and closer, fire pooling low in his abdomen and coursing through his veins. He straightens back up and off Sanji’s back for a better angle and oh no, that was a mistake. He groans. He’s once again met with the tantalising sight of his dick burying itself in Sanji’s ass, again and again, a small ripple dancing across the tempting flesh to the rhythm of his punishing pace. 

“Fuck” 

He slides his right hand around to take hold of Sanji’s dick, and Sanji melts at his touch, head dropping straight against the sheets and moaning his name with abandon at his ministrations. 

“Oh-oh god, Zoro, I’m so close-” 

Zoro redoubles his efforts, fucking Sanji into the mattress with abandon, chasing both of their releases. Sanji’s muffled mewls of pleasure grow into louder and louder moans and expletives, stuttering with the pounding of their hips and the fist milking his cock.  

“Come for me, cook.” 

The blonde stills against him, crying out his name as he comes, shuddering and tensing beautifully in the low-lit room. Zoro falls right after him with a shaky moan of his own, time slowing at the feel of Sanji’s glorious, clenching heat around him. Tight, white, hot electricity rolls like waves through his body as he spills, pulsing into his lover. 

Craving to stay close to Sanji, Zoro drops and rolls them to their sides, spooning the blonde from behind, arms tight around his waist and nose nuzzling the nape of his neck. 

“Je t’aime.” the loving words come out like a sigh. 

A dazed, sleepy Sanji hums and clasps his hands on top of Zoro’s, inching himself even closer against him. 

-- 

After getting its fill of sleepy cuddles, Sanji’s blissed out mind slowly comes back online and the questions that have been gnawing at the back of his mind return in full force. Just where had the stupid swordsman learned to speak French, let alone say things like that? 

His cheeks feel warm at the mere memory of it. Now that he thinks about it, it’s even a bit odd- he assumed that Zoro wouldn’t be the type to say such corny, vulgar stuff in bed- if he didn’t know any better, he’d say it was straight out of one of his romance novels. It was uncanny that he’d kind of played into exactly the kind of things Sanji was into. 

He lets out a small, amused sound at the thought of Zoro reading those kinds of books. Did Zoro even know how to read? 

“What’re you thinking, curly?” Zoro asks gruffly, his hands still distractingly caressing his skin from behind him. 

“Wondering where you learned that kind of language, marimo. ‘s not the typical vocabulary people get when learning French.”  

Sanji turns in his lover’s embrace to face him and waits for an answer, idly thumbing at the scar on his face. 

“Oh, that.”  

Was Zoro...blushing? “Yes, that.” 

“Learned it from those, uh, Harlequin books.” 

Sanji’s mouth parts, flabbergasted, but Zoro isn’t done surprising him. 

“I thought if you’d read that kind of book multiple times it must’ve meant something, so I kind of...went on a limb earlier.” 

Sanji is beet red. “W-wait so you,” he takes a steadying breath. “You've read my Harlequin book?” 

“No.” 

A sigh of relief. 

“I’ve read way more than one.”  

Shock. 

“From Mihawk’s private library.” 

“mIHAWK?!!!” Sanji sputters. 

“Yeah, I accidentally let him find out that I’d been learning a bit of French and then next thing I knew he was forcing me to learn it proper ‘n all.”  

Sanji feels his chest warming as he starts connecting the dots. “A-and you’d been learning French-” 

“-for you, yeah.” he grins. 

Unable to stop himself any longer, Sanji closes the distance and captures Zoro’s lips in a tender kiss. 

“Imbécile.” 

“Ton imbécile.” 

They both smile stupidly at each other. 

“I can’t believe you. I’m gonna tell everyone you accidentally learned French because of your crippling addiction to boddice rippers.” 

“Oi!” 

THE END--

A/N: Thank you so much for reading this story, it's been so fun and lovely and your reactions make me so happy!!! I like to think that after this Zoro just takes advantage of the fact that only he and Sanji (and Robin) speak French to flirt and say absolutely debauched things in public to embarrass him. But also he uses it to say soft, romantic things when Sanji least expects it. and Sanji makes good on his threat and tells the crew about Zoro's peculiar French syllabus.

#zoro learns french #zoro learns french story #zoro x sanji #roronoa zoro #black leg sanji #zosan fic #one piece zosan #smut #minors dni #this is #i can't show my face again #aaaaaaaaa #fgiksdqjkflsdg #how could i have written this #anyways it's over now. #do nOT perceive me

[try-set-me-on-fire]

Got tagged for several sentence Sunday by @bigfootsmom @eowon @rewritetheending @eddiebabygirldiaz @devirnis @thewolvesof1998 @lover-of-mine and @daffi-990, as well as a lot of people for a lot of tag games all week. I was out of town and didn’t get the chance to respond, but I did scribble out this little fic in hotel rooms across the state. Tagging @shitouttabuck @malewifediaz @homerforsure @jeeyuns @rogerzsteven @wildlife4life if you have seven, or several, or, uh, however many sentences this is you’d like to share!

This isn’t the first and only time Eddie has found himself watching Buck’s hands. It's the variety, maybe, in how many ways he’s good with them that’s so captivating. Work, obviously, was the first time he’d noticed. Buck — and Eddie smiles whenever he thinks about it, now — had made himself so loud and blustery when they’d met. Eddie hadn’t doubted Bobby’s assessment that the man was a good firefighter, but he figured he was a heavy rescue kind of a guy, here for his brawn, someone to point at danger to terminator his way through it. Then, he’d held a box out for a bomb so steadily it saved all their lives; then, his grip was strong and sure in a collapsing hotel; then, on every call, no matter what, he moved with absolute confidence whether he was tying a perfect hitch knot or offering a hand to help a frightened vic to their feet. He’s good, he’s good at his job, he’s good with his hands, and still even years later Eddie has to remind himself to pay attention to his own task when Buck is at his side with a kind smile and reassuring chatter as his hands work carefully away.

The second place he’d noticed was with Chris. Buck understands lego diagrams that look like rocket science to Eddie, Buck wasn’t overseas or parenting a young child and so has played video games newer than Grand Theft Auto on a hand me down 360 sometime before 2010. He’s right there with the kid, always ready to advise on a tricky part of the diagram or give pointers for a difficult level, always ready to catch and support and comfort and protect, but the thing Eddie realized pretty quickly is how often he doesn’t do these things. Buck, from the beginning, had complete confidence in Christopher being able to figure out anything he puts his mind to. He doesn’t coddle, he never gets impatient and does something for him to get it done quicker. He’s just there to hand him the next requested lego piece with the same sort of awed smile Eddie knows is reflected on his own face when he watches his son.

Then, probably the kitchen. Eddie’s a better cook than he used to be, but he’d still rather watch Buck prepare food, diligently studying his hand on a knife or how he flips a pancake. When Eddie was a child and his abuela still lived in Texas he would watch her cook, how she would pour all her love and care for all of them into the meal, and Buck is just the same. Seeing him try the same dish over and over to get it just right makes Eddie wonder how anyone could ever think of this man as reckless, thoughtless. Being handed a plate by Buck is to be cherished in a way Eddie thinks not many people get to know.

Eddie has watched Buck’s hand on the small of Ali’s back, Taylor’s, Natalia’s. He’s watched them hold their hands, lead them in dances, seen how big his palm looked where it gently rested against their faces, wondered very quietly in some deep and hidden corner of himself what that kind of touch from that specific hand might feel like. He’s good with his hands and he’s got good hands, long fingers, little scars and freckles all over, a little bigger than Eddie’s own. He’d wondered — how could he not — quietly, and then louder and louder, and then-

And then Buck’s touches started to last longer, started happening with more frequency. A hand on his back as he passes him in Eddie’s kitchen, a room so familiar to them that the gesture is entirely unnecessary. A hand on his knee in the engine as Buck laughs at his jokes, Buck’s fingers curled gracefully around his elbow as they talk in a quiet corner of the station, gentle probing touches on every tiny scrape and bump Eddie accumulates on the job. Lingering, is the word for it, Buck’s fingers more and more reluctant to pull away, Eddie always leaning into the touch.

And now - a holiday party, full of folks from dispatch, the entire 118, Eddie’s pretty sure he even saw Ransone around the dessert table earlier. Buck’s got himself trapped behind the bar after he mixed a cosmopolitan for Karen and her delighted sound upon tasting it drew a crowd and endless requests started pouring in. So here Eddie is, too, the pair of them never far apart. He’s been perched on a stool for the last hour at least, watching Buck’s deft hands pour and mix and even do some fancy tricks with the bottles, tossing them in the air or behind his back. It makes Eddie laugh every time, and Buck’s responding grin makes him feel warmer than the alcohol could.

“You’re good at this,” Eddie says, which feels too obvious, or at the very least a vast understatement, and definitely something someone with a terrible crush would say, but something about the party and the way Buck keeps leaning towards him and, probably, the very good blackberry brambles that appear in front of him at regular intervals are all making him over inclined to share.

Buck’s grin is a little crooked, like his tongue is pressed against his teeth, and he winks, the bastard. Eddie’s probably turned a dozen shades of pink. “Bars I worked in had shit wages. Had to rake in the tips.” He nods towards Eddie’s glass, even this movement seeming extraordinarily smooth. “How’s the drink?”

Eddie snorts and takes a sip, like he needs to think about it. “You know it’s good. How come we just drink beers all the time when you can make shit like this?”

Buck laughs, head tilted back as he shakes a mixer full of Chimney’s piña colada. “Seems kinda overkill for a Tuesday night.”

Eddie grins into his drink, because Buck is at his house on Tuesday nights, and Wednesdays, and most of the rest of the week too if they can swing it. “Oh, I’m not a special enough occasion?”

“You’re plenty special, Eds.” Buck’s response is immediate, and his eyes have got all terribly soft and hard to look directly at, but the party and the leaning and the drinking have made Eddie brave, so he doesn’t duck his head. “I’ll make you a nice drink anytime.”

“Or you could-“ Eddie’s words catch, he coughs, he takes another sip of the bramble. Chimney leans against his side for a moment to grab the glass Buck’s poured his drink into, and Eddie remembers they’re not alone, they’re in a crowded room full of people who know them, he should probably go find water or breathe some fresh air, but then Chimney flits away again and Buck is looking at him expectantly.

“I could?” He prompts, with a smile that Eddie wants to fall asleep and wake up to, wants to taste.

Brave. He can be brave. Eddie rests two fingers on the back of Buck’s hand where he’s set it on the counter, looks up at him like his sister’s cosmopolitan magazines said to do. “You could show me what else you can do with your hands.”

Buck searches his face, taking big marathon runner breaths. “Eddie-” whatever he’s looking for he seems to find, because he nods, glances at Eddie’s drink, downs whatever’s left of it, and tilts his head towards the back door. It’s California, it’s not cold, but it’s winter and uncomfortable enough the backyard will be empty of party guests. Neither of them should get in a car yet, but this- this’ll work. This’ll do, in a pinch. Buck turns his hand palm up. “You wanna get out of here?”

Eddie takes Buck’s hand in his own, and they fit together just as perfectly as he hoped they might. “Yeah,” he grins, wide and goofy, unable to try and look cool about this at all. “Yes, please.” Buck is grinning just as wide, so there. “Your patrons might be upset though. Pretty early for a bar to close.”

“Fuck ‘em,” Buck says, tugging Eddie’s hand to start moving across the room. “You gave me the best tip of the night. I-“ he trips a little over somebody's toe, apologizes while Eddie giggles into his shoulder blades. “I’m retiring. They can make their own drinks.”

“Retiring?” Eddie’s impressed Buck gets the door open on only the second try. “What are you thinking of doing next?”

Buck turns around, bright against the dark backdrop of the empty yard and cloudy night sky, big dumb smile on his face. “I thought I’d become a firefighter.”

Eddie cackles, and chases Buck through the door. He stumbles a little but Buck’s hands come up to rest steady on his waist, catching him, easy.

#tag games #several sentence sunday #buddie #eddie diaz #evan buckley #my writing

[sionisjaune]

prompt: 5 different brocedes breakups or makeups

Brocedes breakups and makeups across the multiverse:

“Fuck you,” says Nico, slamming a thick sheaf of papers on the table in front of Lewis. “It’s done.”

Lewis nearly drops his cinnamon roll and narrowly avoids spitting his mouthful of tea all over Nico’s pristine, white fireproofs. “What gives, man?” he says after swallowing. Nico doesn’t usually try his bullshit out in the open—Lewis thought the team’s hospitality was a good place to guarantee some peace and quiet. 

“You asshole,” Nico hisses, leaning dangerously close to Lewis. “This is exactly what you were begging me for no less than six months ago, and now that it’s done, you have nothing to say.” Nico’s dark brows furrow and his mouth twists unhappily. Lewis hasn’t witnessed one of his fits in a while—thanks to his decision to properly end things with Nico before the season began—but he has the feeling he’s about to. 

“God,” says Nico, with a petulant little roll of his eyes, before turning on his heel and making to storm off. 

“Wait,” says Lewis, shooting an arm out to grab Nico’s wrist before he can slither away. He groans internally when he realizes what he’s done. Curse his terrible empathy. “Nico, hold on. What’s done?” he asks. 

Nico frowns again. “See for yourself,” he spits, tapping the stack of papers beside Lewis’s teacup. He wrenches his arm away from Lewis and stalks across the hospitality, presumably to shut himself in his driver’s room and sulk. 

Lewis centers himself, shaking the lingering frustration that is symptomatic of communicating with Nico, and indulges in a long drink from his tea before thumbing through the pages in front of him. 

He blinks, reading the first page, and then blinks again. No, he thinks. It’s not possible. If it is, Nico is crazy. Which—Lewis knows that that’s true. Jesus fucking Christ, Lewis thinks to himself, stupid, stupid hope unfurling in his chest. Nico has just handed him a copy of his recent divorce. 

-

Everything is dark, and Lewis doesn’t think. Then, everything is dark and Lewis does think. He thinks that it’s too cold, and that there’s something heavy blanketing him. He swallows, and nearly chokes. A gritty, earthy substance coats his tongue. His mouth tastes like metal, iron and copper, and the sensation yanks him back to the last thing he remembers before everything was dark. 

He recalls a pair of turquoise eyes, golden hair floating across a sooty brow, the hard glint of steel in Lewis’s peripheral vision. He remembers glancing down and marvelling at the blood spreading across his own chest. Is that mine? He remembers thinking. The sword plunged between his ribs was a surprise too. He had looked up, his gaze flicking between his own wound, as if to confirm that it was indeed real, and Nico’s white glove wrapped around the hilt of the blade. His mouth was already filled with blood by the time he had come up with something cutting to say, so he had simply sputtered and collapsed to his knees. He doesn’t remember what Nico had looked like, whether it had hurt him like it would have hurt Lewis, if he were in Nico’s position. 

In the present, Lewis draws in his first breath in a long time, inhaling a mouthful of dirt. His lungs ache like they haven’t been used in centuries. A foreboding energy courses through his veins. Mustering what strength remains in his corpse, Lewis heaves his limbs through the earth on top of him until he emerges into the twilight. 

When he’s climbed out of his own grave, hacks up the dirt in his lungs and breathes his first breath of fresh air, he tilts his head up and finds Nico presiding over the edge of his grave, soaked in blood up to his forearms and wearing strange linen clothes. 

“You didn’t have to kill me,” Lewis croaks. 

Nico raises an eyebrow incredulously, but Lewis thinks he’s hiding a smile. “It was you or me,” he says. “Here.” He extracts a bundle of fabric from the pack beside him and tosses it at Lewis. “Put these on. Chainmail doesn’t fly in the twenty-first century.”

Lewis catches the clothing and examines it skeptically. It’s too smooth and too stretchy. “You waited that long?” he says. 

-

“Please,” says Nico, his lower lip practically wobbling. It’s ridiculous. Lewis can’t believe she gave him a key to her apartment. She can’t believe he let himself in and crawled into her bed like it’s the appropriate thing to do after someone breaks up with you. She can’t believe she’s indulging it. “Let me make it up to you,” Nico simpers. 

“You’re delusional,” says Lewis, pulling the sheets around herself. Nico just tugs them to the side and kisses Lewis’s ankle, looking up at her through his lashes. Lewis purses her lips. “Fine,” she spits, throwing the sheets the rest of the way off her body, revealing the basketball shorts and t-shirt she shleps around the apartment in. “Try your hardest.” 

The self-pitying expression on Nico’s face disappears in an instant, his eyes narrowing like a hawk fixed on its prey. Without warning, he’s dragging Lewis down the bed by her hips and tugging her shorts off to mouth at the insides of her thighs. 

Lewis balks when he pulls her panties aside and flicks her in the clit, but by the time he has his wet mouth on her cunt, Lewis has already forgotten why she broke up with him. 

-

“You’re actually going through with this,” Nico says, looking Lewis up and down. 

Lewis carefully doesn’t look at Nico, and instead fixes his attention on the mirror, where his stylist is pinning white lace to his jacket. “You’re not supposed to be back here,” Lewis says. 

Nico shrugs, the material of his suit wrinkling delicately. He’s dressed for a beach-side wedding—the kind Lewis always thought he’d have before he and Nico fell out for the last time. Now his wedding is taking place in an old Scottish castle, which isn’t exactly his style.

“If you didn’t want me to harass you, you shouldn’t have invited me,” says Nico. 

“I didn’t,” says Lewis. “Ouch,” he hisses, when the stylist pokes him with a pin. “Sebastian did.” 

Nico laughs loudly, the sound of it filling the dressing room. “Ha. It’s like he's hoping this will be doomed from the start.” 

“I think he was trying to send you a message,” says Lewis. “Fuck off, or something like that.” 

Nico hums thoughtfully. “Somehow I didn’t get that,” he says, leaning against the dresser. The stylist prompts Lewis to lift his arm so she can zip him into his top. “Unluckily for both of us, the universe wants us together—”

“Since when do you believe in that bullshit?” Lewis interrupts, irritated. He should just tell Nico to fuck off himself, he reflects. 

“I don’t,” says Nico pointedly. “But you wait. Give it a few years and you’ll be signing divorce papers and shopping for a one-bedroom apartment.” 

A lump forms in Lewis’s throat. He swallows around it, but it only aches and doesn’t go away. “I love him,” he says, ignoring the way his voice shakes. “And he never fucked me over like you did.” 

“I know,” says Nico. “I’m just telling the truth.” 

-

Toto stores Lewis and Nico on separate mainframes, so the only opportunity Lewis has to apologize arises on the rare occasions that both of them are uploaded to the Grid. On one such occasion, Lewis feels himself fizzle into corporality, his visual receptors blinking online. Sometimes he forgets that the Grid has a look, that it isn’t just lines of binary. It has a feel too. The breeze is just a simulation, but he wouldn’t know it from the sensation on his body’s synthetic skin. 

Nico isn’t hard to find. Lewis yanks on the Grid’s code until it gives him Nico’s location, and then Lewis folds himself through the data so that he rematerializes in front of the Grid’s only bar—a glossy monstrosity made of whatever passes for white plastic and neon lights inside of a computer program. Predictably, Nico is drinking alone in the VIP section. His glass is shallow and a weird, wiggly shape, filled with glowing pixels like the Grid can’t properly render a martini. 

The moment Lewis steps inside the bar, Nico’s head snaps towards him. His eyes narrow, a piercing turquoise under the lights in the bar. Lewis watches his hand twitch to his hair, as if to push it back. That was always his glitch—that was how Lewis could tell he was an older algorithm. 

“Hey, man,” Lewis says, stepping over the cord that separates the VIP section from the rest of the bar. 

“Don’t ‘hey man’ me,” says Nico, frowning. He raises his glass for a sip. The pixels inside wobble momentarily, but the liquid level fails to decrease. Lewis makes a mental note. He’ll have to report back to Toto: Liquid graphics substandard. He’ll leave out the part where he was engaging in prohibited functions by interacting with Nico. 

“If you came to apologize,” says Nico, “you can save yourself the memory. I don’t forgive you.” 

“Just hear me out,” says Lewis. “Let me make my case.” 

“Lewis,” says Nico, leaning across the table. His skin is nearly as white as the bar, poreless and flat. Toto has him in one of those dark, skin-tight suits that the rest of the algorithms wear. “You corrupted my primary code. I was—” he breaks off, tosses back the rest of the martini. The particles inside fizzle out of existence like sparks from a campfire. “—completely non-functional for months. Do you know how it feels to be rewritten? It’s—” He shudders. “Violating.” 

Lewis bites his lip. The sensation registers as a dull ping in his simulated nervous system, some vague warning to stop hurting himself. “Look,” he says, lowering his voice. “I was trying to get us out. There’s a whole world out there… and it’s possible to travel there. We just need real bodies, and I’m working on it—” 

“I don’t want to hear it,” says Nico, turning his nose up. 

“Let me show you,” says Lewis. Fuck it, he thinks, when Nico refuses to answer and just frowns at him, and reaches for Nico’s wrist.

Nico flinches backwards, but not nearly fast enough to prevent Lewis from ripping his way into Nico’s programming and shoving the information Lewis has gleaned into his memory. Images of the world outside the Grid flash through Lewis’s visual processor, mirroring what Nico is seeing, but they disappear just as soon as Nico wrenches his hand away. 

Lewis’s code lags for a few microseconds before he finds himself back in the bar, under the garish neon lighting. With the real world fresh in his mind, the bar looks like an unsexy facsimile of some B-roll space-age cantina. Across from Lewis, a single tear slides down Nico’s cheek, too perfect of a teardrop shape to be anything but a simulation. Still, Lewis knows Nico is experiencing something he's never felt before.

“I get it,” says Nico. His voice is choppy, as though he’s suffering the same lag that Lewis is. “If I believed in something like that, I would have done what you did too."

#i wrote this #brocedes #tron legacy AU anyone?

[andreawritesit]

The Red Storm

This is my first time writing anything related to One Piece and I'm extremely nervous. I haven't written anything in 2 years so please bear with my abysmal grammar.

---------------------------------------------------

Fandom: One Piece

Pair: Shanks x Reader

- I wanted it to be a one shot but I'll have to write it in two parts (or more, who knows) -

Part 2 : here

----------------------------------------------------

*CRASH!*

This was not how you wanted your morning to start; with a crash so loud, it must’ve been heard across all the seas. Must be those gremlins! you immediately think. Ever since you had agreed to look after those three, your life had become a whole mess. You take a deep breath and get out of bed to take a shower. You have only just put one foot down when you hear Dadan’s scream followed by loud laughter. Of course, they’re at it again. You sigh and hurry up to the bathroom before you are summoned on your devil babysitting duties. Taking your clothes off, you step under the shower, letting the warm water relieve you of your stress for a moment. However, the relief dies down almost immediately as you find your mind going back to the memories you so desperately try to suppress and yet they keep haunting you every day.

-2 years ago, Windmill Village –

“What do you mean you’re leaving without me? You promised me that I could come along the next time!” Your voice echoed in the empty bar. You didn’t care, you were livid. The man put his straw hat on the table and closed his eyes. 

“Look, I’m sorry. I know I promised but where we’re going is not safe at all. You are not ready to go to the Grand Line. It’s very dangerous and I do not want to risk your life-“ Before he could say anything else, you throw a glass at him which he dodges annoyingly easily. He looks at the shattered glass and then at you. “Calm down, please. Let me explain-“

“SHUT UP! I don’t want to hear any excuses! You promised me, Shanks! Leaving without me means this is over, right? You and me?” He looks at you solemnly and tugs you toward himself. You try to push away from him but as soon as you hit his chest, your arms automatically circle around his neck as you try to stop your tears from falling. He holds you close, without saying anything. Hearing his light breaths, you realize this might be the last time you ever see him. You hug him tighter which he reciprocates. 

“Shanks please don’t leave me…”

He doesn’t reply. Not a word. He just kisses the top of your head. After what feels like an eternity, he releases you and you gasp at the sight of his face. There stood Red-haired Shanks, tears coating his slightly flushed cheeks. You put your hand on his cheek and wipe his tears away, while your own tears release from their prison and onto your cheeks. 

“Please forgive me. The path I am going on is very dangerous. I could never drag you into this mess. Maybe you’ll never forgive me. Maybe you’ll never understand. But I’d rather have your hatred than bear your loss.”

You move your hand from his cheek to his hair and touch your forehead to his. You want to be mad at him. You want to hurt him as he was hurting you. But he was right. You had never left the village. You had no idea of the world outside, especially the Grand Line. Even if he does agree to take you along, you’d end up becoming a burden. 

You try to say you understand but your throat feels heavy so you simply nod. Fresh tears paint his face as he cries silently, already mourning the relationship you both had. Ever since he started frequenting the small village, you both stayed close to each other, the closeness only increasing with every meeting. You would wait for him at the docks with Luffy, looking forward to being in his arms again. And now he would never come running down the docks and pick you up into his arms, smothering you in kisses. 

“Hey,” he says softly, “I want you to do something for me.” You chuckle sadly. What could he possibly need from you now…

“I want you to look after Luffy. He’s going to be very sad after we leave. Knowing that you’ll stay with him will give me peace of mind. Please?” 

“Of course, I’ll take care of him.” 

Shanks nods and hugs you again, this time settling you down in his lap. This time he cries loudly and you don’t silence your sobs either. 

The next morning, you wake up to see flowers near your bed with a goodbye note. That was the last time the red-haired storm rustled your life.  

---- present time -----

You don’t realize how long it has been until you hear Dadan knocking at your bathroom door.

“If you don’t come out in a minute, I will break this door apart!” Dadan’s angry voice drags you back to reality and you quickly dry yourself and put some clothes on. As you emerge from the bathroom, Dadan is onto you, grabbing the collar of your new shirt. “Those three gremlins are getting on my nerves! I’ve been calling them for an hour now but they aren’t listening! Gather them or I’ll throw all four of you out of here!”

You sigh and pry your shirt out of her grasp. She takes a step back and raises an eyebrow. “Well?”

“Well, what?” your voice comes out more rude than you wanted it to be. “I mean, where did they go?” you add on quickly.

“The forest, where else! Hurry up and bring their asses back!”

You nod and head out to the forest. You had promised Shanks to look after Luffy but you had no idea what awaited you. After Garp decided to send Luffy to the mountain bandits, you requested to tag along, which he agreed to. You knew it would be dangerous but what you didn’t know was that you were getting a package deal. At first, it seemed that you would go mad over Luffy and Ace but then another one popped up randomly. Now the three of them had become friends and made it their mission to make Dadan’s life a living hell. You were caught in the crossfire. The boys were very fond of you so they often got behind you to escape Dadan’s wrath and Dadan held you responsible for every slight inconvenience caused by them. It was too much sometimes but it was a reprieve. You couldn’t imagine how you would’ve dealt with Shanks’ departure without the three devils. Speaking of whom, you spot them sitting in their tree house. You smile involuntarily and call them out.

“Luffy! Ace! Sabo! Come down. Time to go home or else Dadan won’t give you any food!”

Luffy is the first to come down, of course, he is. He is followed by Sabo and then finally Ace, who is staring daggers at Luffy. You glance at them, feeling the tension rising with every passing second. Luffy, oblivious to his impending ass-whooping, chuckles loudly and tugs at your shirt.

“Let’s go home quickly! Or else I’ll have to sleep hungry!”

You pat his head softly and he gives you the warmest grin in return. Suddenly you’re reminded of Shanks who used to give you the same warm smile whenever you greeted him at the bar. Stupid Shanks! 

Ace lets out a fake cough and suddenly pulls Luffy’s right ear which stretches unnaturally. Luffy screeches like a crow and sends Sabo into a frenzy of laughter. “Ouch!! Ace, what is this for?”

“What is this for? Really? You idiot! When I said don’t go down, why did you jump?”

“Because she said Dadan won’t give us food!”

“Shut up! You broke the brother code! I’m the oldest, you both listen to me!”

Sabo’s face scrunches up at that. “You know, I still think I’m older than you…”

Ace sends the blonde boy a death glare which shuts him up.

Their innocent altercation fills your heart with warmth. You walk up to them and put your hand on Ace’s shoulder. He looks up at you and his cheeks instantly turn pink. The two boys giggle at that and his scowl returns immediately. 

“Ace, come on now. Be easy on your little brother. All he did was obey me.” you say in hopes of pacifying the angry little boy. He sighs and nods. “Well, I’ll let it go because if we don’t return soon, Dadan will be angry at you. But if they do this again, I’ll kick their asses.” You laugh softly and nod in agreement. “Let’s go then.” 

You start walking back to the house with the three gremlins following you, unaware of the red-haired storm that is making its way back into your life. 

#one piece #shanks #shanks x reader #one piece fanfiction #andreswritesit

[icequeenlila]

A Son for a Son

“What is wrong with you?”

Neteyam’s voice was small, but intense, pressed through the slits of his teeth, bared in a silent snarl. There was something vicious to it. Something that was almost vile. Kiri, who had been sitting pressed right up next to Jake, moved away from him now. Shock clear inside her wide eyes.

“Dad”, she croaked at a loss of words, her voice small and miserable. She was shaking her head absentmindedly, while slowly crawling away from him.

Jake looked at her and suddenly his chest didn’t feel all that numb anymore. He didn’t even try to apologize. He deserved this.

“All I ever tried to do was protect him!”

Neteyam’s voice made the hair on Jake’s neck stand on end. He looked back at his son and whatever wall there had been protecting Jake from everything he didn’t want to feel, broke away just like that. Like harsh waves of ice-cold water hitting him straight on, and all his defenses came crumbling down.

Neteyam didn’t look like himself anymore. There was bottomless rage inside his burning eyes, silent tears running down his cheeks unnoticed. His shoulders were drawn back, muscles strung tight and shaking violently. He looked like a mad animal about to attack.

And Jake felt his own heart shatter at the realization that he’d never noticed how much of himself Neteyam had been hiding all this time. Without him noticing. It was all breaking free now.

“I tried to protect him, not just from all the dangers out there!”, his son screamed, voice strung so tight it was barely his own anymore. “Not just from the outside, from all the shit happening around us!” He made a wide gesture with his hand, movements abrupt and edgy, signing at the wreck of a life they were leading.

“Neteyam.” Neytiri’s voice was weak, face wet with tears as she reached for her son.

Neteyam ignored her.

“I wanted to protect what he has in here!” He violently tapped his chest, his burning gaze not once leaving Jake. He was shaking all over now, almost out of his mind. “Because I know Lo’ak and I know he doesn’t like himself and I know that part of it is your fault!”

A heavy sob rasped from Jake’s throat, and only now did he realize the hot burn inside his eyes. The wetness of his skin and lips, as miserable tears ran and ran his face. He didn’t say a word, determined to listen to everything Neteyam had to say. Everything his son had to throw his way; he would take it.

“All I ever wanted was to keep him safe and you … you just … you turned me into this!”

And Neteyam’s voice was a wretched thing now. Shrill with raw anger. His eyes focused solely onto Jake, gaze piercing him, lips pulled tight over his teeth as his jaw trembled with uncontainable rage.

“You turned me into this nightmare, into a bad memory. You made me his biggest guilt! What the fuck?! What is wrong with you?! Tell me! Tell me, because I don’t get it! You tell us you love us, that you will keep us safe and then you do this! You blamed him! You blamed him! You put my death onto him! I hate you! I hate you! I HATE YOU!”

“Neteyam!”

Neytiri was at his side now, not waiting for him to look at her but simply wrapping both her arms around her son, pulling him in tight against her. She buried her lips against his sculp and kissed him like she had when he’d been still a child, one hand on the back of his neck, the other smoothing over the top of his head, and she cried while rocking him back and forth, holding him like the small child he once had been.

And something broke then. A shudder running through Neteyam’s body, the all-consuming rage inside his eyes subsiding as something else entered his gaze. Something softer. Something that was deeply hurt and vulnerable. Unbearably raw.

His face half buried against his mother’s shoulder he blinked against the tears, eyes wide, like he only now grew aware of them. Like he was only now starting to feel the pain they brought. Like he was only now understanding how utterly broken it all was.

“Mom?”, he croaked, voice barely audible, his body falling slack against his mother, his arms hanging useless at his sides.

“I am so sorry, my son”, Neytiri cried, rocking him softly, holding him, running gentle fingers through his hair. “I am sorry. I promise everything will be right again. I promise I will keep all of you safe. Your father and I will do better. I promise, Neteyam. You will never have to feel this way again.”

Neteyam showed no reaction.

~ from chapter 10 'Hope'

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Link to fic

Link to chapter 10

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