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theblueflower05 · 1 year

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Crawling Back to You

(Part Two of First Love/Late Spring)

A/N: So like, I’m really excited that you guys seem to be digging this story. I was hesitant about it just because there’s so much of my own Na’vi/Metkayina lore thrown in there. Thank you for all of the kind response.

Word Count: 8k+

Warnings: From here on out, this story will be extremely explicit. Minors DNI. If Aged Up! Neteyam isn’t your thing, please exit to your left. Let’s all respect each other's boundaries, please.

Angst. Self deprecation. Alcohol consumption. Smut. Mutual masturbation. Fingering(fem receiving). Nipple sucking. Breeding kink. Scent marking. Public sex(if you squinttttt)

Summary: Neteyam returns from his Motnaui and isn’t in much of a celebratory mood when he realizes that he’s scrapped any chance of having a mate for Fertility season…or has he? Neteyam x Reader

Series Masterlist(all parts can be found here)

Previous< First Love/Late Spring

Next>: Bottom of the Deep Blue Sea

Secret's that I’ve held in my heart

Are harder to hide then I thought.

Maybe I just wanna be yours- Artic Monkeys

The brilliant Pandoran sun beats down on the crystal blue waters, fragmenting into bursts of light under the surface of the waves.

The Motnaui is intense, Neteyam’s lean frame isn't made for the open ocean but over the months as he trained intensely with the Metkayina hunters, he gained muscle he didn't even realize his body could retain.

His shoulders are broader and thighs thicker. He can keep up with the clan, he can help row the boats without his arms giving out on him.

Neteyam hasn't felt this way since they had fled the safety of the forest. He’s useful again. He’s worked hard to regain his title of Hunter.

Warrior.

Brother of the people.

He sense’s it as they jump between the endless maze of isles. Hunting and sleeping on the beaches under the open night sky. Swapping stories around the small campfires.

They don't see him as an outsider anymore. No, he is Metkayina. All of the hunters treat him as such. Clapping his back. Embracing him tight. Sharing in the whopping joy as he makes a clean, merciful kill.

They listen to the Omaticayan legends he tells the and fill him in on the lore of the sea.

The four days out at open ocean are needed and he feels sure footed now. Knows that he will always have a place in Awa’atlu. He can't wait for Lo’ak to complete his Iknamaya next cycle, to get to feel this feeling of deep belonging. Of acceptance.

The tattoo forever etched into the the skin on his on his shoulder burns. Throbs all the way down his elbow, ends right above his wrist. The permanent swirling ink a symbol of his place among the reef.

His third birth is as beautiful as his second. He is a man, twice recognized.

Neteyam reminds himself of that fact as he sits down next to Tonowari one night. The stars are sparkling and the dimming light of the dying fire makes the hulking chief look larger than life.

Still, the younger man gathers his courage.

“I wish to mate with Y/N” Neteyam states firmly. He had been Olo’eyktan in training for over a decade back in the forest. He uses the voice he’d take on when speaking of important matters “I would like your blessing to do so, sir”

Their brothers and sisters in the hunt surround them. Either asleep at the late hour or lost to their own conversations.

Or maybe they just know not to interrupt this important exchange. They only listen in with peaked ears and envious hearts.

Tonowari’s features go stern, his strong brows pulling together “Before my T’smuke returned to the great mother, I promised her that I would always take care of her daughter as though she was my own. I love Y/N as I do my children. Do you understand that, Neteyam?”

Neteyam is nodding “Yes sir, of course”

“She is a good woman. A very important member of our community, if I allow this courtship I have to be certain that you will honor that. That you will honor her place among us, and be serious about what that means for your own”

Neteyam mules over the words, thinks he knows what they mean. He will be marrying into the royal family of the Metkayina. He will be bound by blood to the clans chief. His future children will have a claim to the title of Olo’eyktan or Tshaik, third in line should anything ever happen.

“I am very serious about her, I will work hard to give her all that she deserves. I will build us a Mauri to raise our family in. I will dedicate my life to her and the tribe” It is not a vow lightly made, Neteyam knows this.

He had never been one to be fickle about responsibility.

It’s only when the intense expression on the Olo’eyktans face shifts, a broad smile stretching across his mouth, that Neteyam feels his posture untense.

Tonowari claps him hard on the back and offers him the leather flask of strong liquor that the hunters pass amongst themselves-

“Then you have my blessing” Tonowari laughs as the younger Na’vi man almost chokes on the burn of the Kava.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

When they return to the main island of Awa’atlu with their abundant catch they are greeted warmly by the clan. The giant horns are blown, drums play rhythmically. Children scream joyously and women dance scantly clad in ceremonial drab.

Its busy and blustering but there's only one thing on Neteyam's mind.

Only one person.

The same woman who had plagued him since his arrival all those months ago. You’re as elusive as the receding tide and he had become accustomed to having to look for you. To having to seek you out in a crowd, to go searching for you.

You hadn't seen him off and he hasn't spoken to you in many days. He misses you. It's an ache that he wants to soon remedy, that he knows he’ll never have to feel again. Not with Tonowari’s blessing fueling him.

Since he was young, Neteyam had wanted to be bonded.

He’d dreamt of sharing that special connection with another individual; the way that his parents did. He craved someone to cherish him, to take care of him and in return he’d do the same for them. He itched for a woman to braid his hair, to bear his children. To bury his cock in every night and wake up to every morning.

He was a simple man with a big heart and a lot of love to give. And he wanted to give it to you.

He just has to find you first.

Neteyam tries not to worry when he can't catch sight of your petite frame. Not one peek of your long hair or seafoam eyes. He couldn't scent the natural perfume of florally herbs that always seemed to surround you-

“Neteyam!” It’s Tuk.

She collides with him hard. Many years of being a climbing post for his siblings is the only reason he doesn't topple over. Is able to catch her mid air and hold her to his chest.

He’s greeted by his family-

And only a moment passes before he can notice that something is wrong.

It’s written all over Kiri’s face. In his mothers expressive eyes and the glances his father throws him as he embraces the Olo’eyktan from across the way. Even Lo’ak gives him something akin to a small glare.

“Whatever is going on, it will have to wait” Neteyam decides out loud, slowly lowering his baby sister to the ground. “I need to find Y/N, have any of you seen her?”

Kiri’s mouth opens and shuts, as though she’s trying to figure out what to say and it frays his nerves. His legs are antsy, burning with the need to run. To seek you out- still on the high of the hunt.

“I don't have time for this-”

“Brother, wait. It is about Y/N” Kiri grabs his elbow, keeping him still.

He doesn't like her tone.

Likes the expression on her face even less. She looks too serious, it doesn't suit her at all. Kiri had always been as airy as a tree sprite- carefree and bubbly.

Call it a gut feeling or the simple ability to read the room. He just knows whatever she’s about to tell him isnt going to be pleasant.

“What happened?”

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

His sister pulls him aside, into the mangrove tree’s and away from prying eyes and ears so that she can relay what she’d heard. Fill Neteyam in on what he’s missed.

He listens to every word…and they settle like stones in his stomach.

“Y/N thinks that you have accepted an offer of courtship from another woman”

“I didn't- I’d never!” Neteyam hisses in protest, shaking his head. It’s all one big misunderstanding. He has to make find you, shake these thoughts out of your head. Make you see-

“But you did,” Kiri replies firmly, her mouth pulled into a grim line.

She explains the meaning of the Lei’s.

The gravity of him accepting one from another female and Neteyam hasn't felt so small in many years. He’d been forced into adulthood early. Taken care of his siblings from a young age and then was thrust into the war with the RDA before he had even fully come out of adolescence. He was wise beyond his years, that’s what everyone had always told him.

He doesn’t feel that way now.

He’d fucked up, made a mistake that could very well cost him the future that he had worked so hard to secure since coming to the reefs-

And he hadn't even meant to! He’d been as naive as a baby, as ignorant to Metkayina traditions as an untrained child-

He wants to scream in frustration. Wants to kick the absolute shit out of himself. Instead he listens to his sister, his hands shaking as he balls them into fists.

You had been devastated. Heart broken. Wouldn't talk to anyone or come out to eat. Couldn’t stop crying-

“Enough” He pleads, he can't hear anymore of it. Guilt rises in his chest like bile.

Imagining what the last days had been like for you as he’d spend them having the time of his life, galivanting with other hunters. Getting drunk and having carefree fun-

“Kiri, what do I do?”

She sighs. It’s so rare to see her older brother like this. He’s always so solid. So strong and stable. It’s unnerving when he loses his composure. When his carefully built walls come down

She had known that the whole thing was a miscommunication and had tried along with Tsireya to convince you of that fact. But you wouldn't hear it, and avoided her at every turn.

You and her brother are both such stubborn dumb asses. Rubbing at her temples Kiri prays to Eywa for strength. Sully’s stick together.

“We fix this”

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

As the evening eclipse starts and the sun disappears in the sherbert sky the beach lights up.

Bonfires roar, their flames tall and burning bright.

The air is filled with the smell of roasting Paokpak(island boar) and fish. Huge pots full of dishes that Neteyam had never seen line the long wooden table set up at the center of the celebration. Barrels of Kava have been brought out. The strongest of Metkayina liquors, brewed and stored for decades in airtight containers. Made from berries that are extremely hard to harvest.

This is a time for celebration, to gorge on the hard earned harvests the hunters have brought back. To celebrate the newly rited adults and prepare for the Fertility Season.

The beat of the drums is hypnotic. It's sexy and primal. It's a tune that all Na’vi know in their chest, one that their hips move to as if of their own accord.

Children play, Women sing, stories older then the briny deep are told. The air is electric; so full of magic and unity.

And yet, Neteyam is on edge.

He had been since his rude awakening earlier in the day. He’d spent his afternoon running around like an Austrapede with its head chopped off. Desperately trying to solve the issues that he hadn't meant to create.

After hunting down the culprit to all of this mess, a pretty lei made up of sunset orange lilies which he’d given to Tuk almost automatically after it’d been given to him, he returns it to its owner.

Seychelle is haughty. Rightly upset and shrilly confused as she takes the token of her affections back. Neteyam’s apology is poor and he knows it, he backs away before she can throw her drink in his face.

Tsireya had told him this was the only way to remedy the issue- to refuse the offer for courtship so that he could be open to be with another. The younger girl had been so relieved when he came to her, begging her to help him win back your affections.

“I knew you are a good man, that you don't have a mean spirit”

Tsireya is as eager as Neteyam to see her cousin happy. She doesn't think she could spend another night listening to your inconsolable weeping.

The last obstacle is the hardest.

You refuse to be anywhere near him. Are forced into the festivities because of your family standing, but pretend that Neteyam simply does not exist.

At every turn you evade him.

Sandwiching yourself between the hulking muscle of Ao’nung and Tonowari at the buffet table. Dancing in an enclosed circle of swaying women. Flitting away in a plume of smoke when he approaches you with your favorite ripe fruit in hand; leaving him standing there stupidly. Palms stained by the juice of the Lionberry as he squeezes it in frustration.

You’re hauntingly beautiful in the firelight.

He hates the fact that he’s not the only who notices it. The way the other males consume you with their carnivorous gazes makes him sick. His fingers clench and his knuckles crack of their own accord.

Long dark hair pours down your back in bouncing waves. The top that you wear clings to you like a second skin; the pearls and seashells glittering in the warm hue of the flames. Your own Lei, pink and pristine, is still resting on your throat. Many intricate bracelets and anklets clink as you walk and he cant take his eyes off of the way that the back of your tweng sits on your pert ass-

“Go talk to her” His dad suggests gruffly as he watches his son watch you. It’s getting hard to stomach at this point, all of that longing palpable and souring the atmosphere.

“She doesn't want to speak to me” Neteyam mutters. Trying not to feel too bad for himself. And failing.

Neteyam hadn't thought his return from Motonui would be like this. He’d envisioned a lot more kissing, and alot less moping.

“Woman aren't as complicated as they seem, son. You don't need some grand gesture-”

“Says the man who tamed Toruk after his first fight with his mate” Neteyam interrupts and Jake snorts at his unusual outburst.

His eldest son is usually so very put together- it's entertaining to see that a woman could bring out this side of him.

“I have nothing to offer her. Back home in the forest I could have given her- everything” Neteyam sighs as he admits what's been on his mind since he’d begun pursuing you “There’s no reason why she’d want to be with me, I’m aware of that”

Jake pulls his son close.

His first born. The apple of his eye. Neteyam was good to his core, and anyone who knew him could see it. Jake was so proud of him and wondered if this lack of self confidence came from the fact that he probably didn’t tell the boy of that fact enough.

“All that girl wants from you is reassurance. That’s all you need to give her, everything else will come with time. If she wanted to mate for status she would’ve done it long before you got here, kid. ”

Jake had been shitty at motivational speeches since his stint in the military. You would think his time as reigning Olo’eyktan would have given him some kind of skills. But still, his words are a bit clunky. But sincere.

After a moment, Neteyam gulps at the Kava in his hand. Drains his cup and then squares his shoulders before he’s off.

Eyes set unyieldingly on the prize.

Jake grins. If a good ol’ pep talk doesn't do it- liquid courage sure will.

You’re half heartedly participating in the conversations going on around you, just distracted enough that Neteyam’s able to stalk over. Unnoticed until he’s standing right infront of you-

“Y/N” His voice is firm, he wonders if you know how hard it is for him to keep it as such. “I see you”

Up close he can see how swollen your eyes are. How exhausted you look. You just nod, muttering out a quiet “I see you” in response.

Everything about your body language screams that you want to be left alone. Your arms are crossed over your chest, your ears tipped low. Your tail curls around your ankle and your nose keeps scrunching up.

He wishes he could let you be,

But you make him selfish. You bring out a side of him that wants to take. Has to be satiated or he’s going to lose his fucking mind.

“I must speak with you” He states his intentions, clear. Ignores the way Ronal glares daggers at the side of his head.

“I don’t think-”

“It will only take a moment. But I ask for the privacy to explain myself to you. If after you hear my words you still do not wish to talk to me I will respect that”

You glance at your family before responding to him. Sharing a look with both Ronal and Tsireya. Your cousin smiles encouragingly, your aunt gives a barley tolerant tilt of her head.

You sigh and nod, but step away from his hand when he offers it to you. It's an obvious rejection, but Neteyam tries not to dwell on it. His tail flicks anxiously behind him.

“We may speak in private. Come” your voice is low, before you begin to lead him away from the festivities. Down the beach until the firelight is in the distance and the beat of the drum is a low hum on the howling wind.

The storms will start soon. The sea is choppy, the clouds rolling in and the breeze cool.

It’s hard to find privacy on the sandy shores, intertwined couples can be found scattered along the waters edge. Lips locked. Speaking lowly and intimately.

Neteyam is pretty sure that one of his fellow hunters has his mate twisted into a mating press- if her breathless whimpers are anything to go by.

He avoids their writhing bodies, ignores the way it makes his own core tingle.

Fertility Season is all but here. The entire clan falling under its low boiling energy.

All he could think about as he had been out on the open ocean; is that this cycle he wouldn't have to spend it alone.

He’s not sure that is the case anymore.

After more walking, completely in silence, the two of you come to a mostly desolate area. Quiet and still, as private as it’s going to get.

You stare out at the cresting waves and Neteyam knows he needs to say something, anything. But all he can to is look at you.

At the way that the moonlight illuminates your silhouette, at the dusting of turquoise bioluminescent freckles that are scattered across your nose.

“I-Um-” You start, and that wont do. He cuts you off quick.

It is only him who needs to explain himself. “Let me start by apologizing to you. I am so sorry, Y/N”

You appear as though you’re going to start crying and if you do, he’ll lose all his carefully cultivated cool.

So he presses on.

“I had no idea that accepting Lei’s was a courting symbol here. I don't know how to make you believe me but if I had know I would’ve never-” Neteyam lets out a long shaky breath “I can only swear to you that in the future I will be more mindful of your clans traditions”

Time ticks by. The moon shines and the waves crash against the shore.

“Our clan” you break the silence, your voice gentle and melodic. “You passed your Iknimaya. It is your clan as much as mine”

He wants so desperately to hold you. He has for months, but the need is almost unbearable at this very moment.

“If I have lost my chance. Please, tell me now” it’s a plea. Because it hurts to look at you. If he can not have you- if you do not want him, he will accept it. Somehow. But being alone with you like this and not knowing is killing him. “I will…I’ll leave you alone, if you want me to”

You scoff, not looking away from him. Refusing to meet his eye, still staring blanky at the waves. “You act as though I am the one who accepted someone else’s offer. I have never wanted you to leave me alone, Neteyam”

“I’m sorry” Does he sound as idiotic as he feels? He surely hopes not.

“You already said that”

“Please, look at me”

“I can’t” you whisper- hissing at him warningly when he outstretches his hands “I- I don't want to ever feel like this again. You need to tell me what you want from me because I do not know. I will get confused again, if you do not tell me what we are doing”

He can tell by your expression that you are serious, and even so. He cant fucking believe it. Had he failed at courtship so immensely that you really don't know? He’s stuck in his head for a moment too long.

It makes you anxious, makes you back even further away.

“Please-” He’s all but begging, yet

you avoid his touch again and it feels like blades.

Your shrill warning hiss rings in his ears.

He returns it with a snarl of his own when you continue to refuse to let him touch you. Can't help it, the need to rebuff all of this uncertainty around the union that is so special to him is strong.

He grips the top of your arms, his long fingers holding your biceps.

You finally look at him. Your round eyes wide and vulnerable. Filled with unshed tears and unspoken questions.

“I want to mate with you” He starts because if you need to hear it all, word for word, then he’d tell you. “I want to build my life here with you by my side. I want us to have a home that will never know war-”

A tear rolls down the swell of your cheek.

“I-I want you to choose to be with me” He swallows, the lump in his throat getting bigger, higher. Threatening to choke his vocal cords “I will be good to you. If you let me”

His family had always required him to be the rock. Had leaned on him to take on the role of caretaker, he had had to keep it together. Keep them together. It wasn't easy for him to break open like this. It went against his very nature, all that self preservation he’d learned early.

But you need this. And he thinks he might too.

“Neteyam-”

“I will ask you again. If I have lost my chance tell me now”

Have mercy on him.

“I understand if you want to be with someone who can offer you more. I won’t fault you for it” he doesn’t know why he feels the need to tack that on. Why the self deprecating thoughts manifest their way into words that hurt for him to speak “I don’t have much here. But I’ll build it, for you”

Your muscles tense under his palms and he prepares himself for the rejection. The physical blow of it-

But then, you melt. Loosen. Your entire body sags fully into his grip. That pinched expression on your face slips away. Your full lips part and your eyes soften, brows furrowing together.

You look at him like he is something precious. Like you can see him- and he thinks you might be the first one who ever has.

He’d known it in his bones. Since the day he’d arrived. Since he’d first spotted your face in the crowd.

“Oel ngati kameie” you whisper, your hand coming up to cup his jaw. “Oel ngati kamei, Neteyam. I see-”

He leans heavily into your hand. His forehead clunking against yours, pressing hard. The contact stings, but its welcome. He needs it.

He needs.

“I don’t care about any of that. I don’t care what you have or don’t have. You know I don’t.” you murmur urgently, he can feel the words against against his skin.

When you press a whisper light, tentative kiss against the sharp of his cheekbone, something snaps. Something that had been strained and barely held together just breaks.

His control, he realizes as he crowds you.

As his fingers dig into your arms and he presses the line of his body against your own firmly.

You’re so soft everywhere. So much smaller than him. He’s all lean muscle, tall and hard. You’re pliable skin, a layer of blubber to keep you warm in the deep. So different from the women he’d grown up with. Your hips are wide, thighs pillowy.

You’d give him healthy children. His hindbrain howls.

When he captures your lips he hopes you realize that there’s no going back. That this is until death. He’d go to his grave before he was robbed of this again.

You gasp, sweet and small, and he eats it. Consumes all of the air in your lungs. You’re good at holding your breath anyway, right?

“Neteyam” you whine, pulling away, your lips wet and your pupils wide. You’re shaky, already a bit disoriented and he wants to keep you. Protect you. He’ll give you anything if you just keep looking at him like that.

“Are you ok-”

You reach up on the tips of your toes, slamming your lips back against his before he can finish his words.

Your hands tangle into his braids as you try to gain traction, pull him down to your level. Get a better hold on him.

Its intense, dizzying. You kiss him like you’re dying and maybe you are. Maybe you’ve been slowly dying since he first got here. Every moment that you hadn’t been able to be held by him had killed you- a slow torturous death.

You drag him down. Do you know he’d follow you anywhere? Under the waves, down onto the soft sand. He cups the back of your head, shelters your neck as he bullies his thin hips between your dense thighs and pressed you against the ground.

The months worth of tension isn't released gently, because it can't be.

The kisses are bruising. Wandering hands and desperate tongues. It’s carnal, Fertility season making both of your minds cloudy as you try to dig into each others flesh.

Nothing is close enough.

With a whine, your fingers slip under Neteyam's multilayered choker. Using it as leverage to tug on as you thrust your hips up violently. The heat at the apex of your legs grinding against his covered erection dangerously.

“Ah-” he gasps wetly “Easy, Narlor. Easy”

“Sorry” you simper, panting. Trying to get a hold on the feelings rushing through you. One hand gripping his necklace, the other slipping into the back of his hair, brushing the nape of his neck “I want- I dream about it all the time”

Fire rushes down Neteyam’s spine, both at your words and your feather light touch to his kuru. He wonders if you touched yourself after those dreams. If you had to take the edge off like he had. He shudders at the thought-

You’re kissing at his neck again, at all of that sensitive skin under his braids, near his ears.

Your quick touches are everywhere. Rushing all over his body. Manicured nails scraping over his skin-

“Ugh,” he warbles out as your curious hand disappears under his tweng.

Its a tight fit as your fingers dance along his hard cock. Delicate and teasingly light. He’s going to come all over himself like some inexperienced teenager that had never gotten a taste of pussy before if you don't. Slow. Down.

“Tell me about those dreams of yours. What’d we do in them?” Neteyam teases, his lips moving against the corner of your mouth. A distraction for both you and himself.

You can't form words, not as you feel how big he is. As you cherish the fact you’ll never be empty again. He's hard and pulsing in your hand and you want him inside of you. Your mouth, your cunt. You don't care. You want to be the only one who gets to feel him, no one else can ever-

There’s only one way to ensure that.

“Tsahelyu” you whimper, “Please Neteyam. Need it”

He slows down a bit, his head spacy but not totally lost. The bond is everything. It’s the most important aspect of Na’vi culture “I can't bond you here”

“Why?” its a petulant whine, your hips pressing against his again.

“I’m not going to bond you on the cold ground, Yawne. Out in the open”

“It’s okay, I don’t mind” you press and he chuckles, shaking his head “you could have me anywhere you want me”

It’s the raw honesty in your voice that drives him crazy.

Devotion in a way that makes him lightheaded.

He can't give you Tsaheylu yet, he wants it done right. He wants you tucked in a mountain of blankets with a warm fire going- at the height of Fertility Season. The ancestors watching over you as he intertwines himself into your soul for the rest of time.

“I will have you” He assures you, dragging his mouth across your clavicle, his long fingers working the strings of your intricate top loose “And you’ll have me. But you have to let me do it right”

You hate waiting. You tell him as he suckles his way across your chest. Moaning as he finally gets his mouth on your soft breasts. Your fist his braids, shivering as he feasts on your skin.

“I’ll make it worth your while” Neteyam promises between mouthfuls of supple flesh “You’ll want for nothing. I’ll give you anything”

He’s humping down into you, unable to stop his hips from shifting. His cock seeking your warmth. You’re right there, he could just-

“Please” you shiver, like you know what he’s thinking. Like you can read his mind and all the dirty thoughts that cross it.

You can't take it. All of his hesitating.

You’d heard that the Omiticayans were more reserved, more traditional when it came to mating but he was going to drive you crazy.

You push on his chest. Gentle yet demanding.

He doesn't want to remove his mouth from your breasts but he allows it all the same. His lips swollen, a thin string of spit connecting him to your tender nipple as he stares at you with questioning eyes.

Neteyam lets you push him off of you before he goes down onto his back, the sand grating against his shoulder blades as he lays flat. You grin the entire time. Your eyes sparkling with excitement. With hunger.

You look as horny as he feels and it kills him.

Your fingers pluck at the at the delicate ties of your tweng, loosening it until it falls from your curvy hips.

“Y/N” he warns as you then reach for his own. Tugging at the leather straps of his loincloth. He raises his hips, helping you shimmy it down his long legs.

“You can't bond me” You whisper as you straddle his waist, your small hands using his broad chest for balance, palms on his pectorals “Not yet anyway”

“Mhmm” Neteyams murmurs as his eyes roll into the back of his head. You're hot and dripping wet, the center of your legs steaming as you rub it against his groin.

“That doesn't mean you cant touch me” you coo at the man under you as you slowly begin to undulate above him. Your hips circling as your head lowers to tongue at the underside of his jaw.

“Shit” He curses in English, gasping at the night sky as you drag damply across his lower stomach .

“Yes?” you question him as you reach for his hand, leading it exactly where you need him most.

“Yeah” Neteyam assures, fingertips dipping where you're skin is plush and dripping- right in between your spread thighs “Yeah, Yeah”

Your hand is still leading his, cupping him firmly against your pussy as he feels how much you need him. You hadn't been the only one dreaming of this. You had danced behind his eyelids for months. His brain had played tricks on him, desperately splicing together mismatched audio in an attempt to conjure up what you would sound like when he finally got to have you.

A shivery keen escapes you when he presses on your swollen bundle of nerves and nah. His imagination couldn't hold a candle to this.

It’s not just how you sound its how you look.

Sat on top of him, resting on your knees with your chest bare save for that brightly hued Lei. Your kiss bruised bottom lip is skewered between your sharp teeth as you worry it in keyed-up concentration. Blue eyes low, your long eyelashes almost fluttering against your cheeks as you stare down at him.

It’s how you smell.

Ripe and earth wet- his mouth floods as he inhales lungfuls of it, your juices are all over him. His waist, coating his hand . Everywhere but right on his tongue where he wants it the most.

Exploring you where you’re the most vulnerable is slippery, your pussy swollen as he traces along the folds. Your clit beats with your pulse under his touch, inflamed and you cry out.

“Awe, baby” he tuts. Your hips chase him in jagged little movements, unsure and needy and it’s enough to get him grinning. You’d been so sure of yourself when you’d pushed him down and climbed on top of him.

Yet here you are a whining mess of his thing in his lap.

There’s no room to tease, he wants to watch you come all over him. Everything still feels too over sensitive. Too new and easily breakable. You’d spent the last near week questioning his feelings.

Neteyam had his words. He could wax to you poetic until your ears bled,

But he had this too. He needed to make you feel a way that no one else could and as he sunk his long digit inside of you he realized that this was better then any conversation. This felt like the most natural way to express all of his emotions, you sucking him in knuckle deep felt so right.

Velvet soft and vice tight, he’s hard between his own legs from just the feel of you. Just knowing that this was his.

You, your heart. Your body. Your tiny little cunt.

Tiny but taking him so well, not just one finger. But two. Then three. Your body moves like the crashing waves behind you, intense and wild. Shoving down onto him so hard that his wrist starts to ache with the demanding press.

“More” you pant wetly into his neck “Faster. Net-please”

He figures out that faster means harder, and harder means he has you all but vibrating on top of him. Bouncing in time with every thrust of his digits. The arm that isn't preoccupied comes around you to hold you steady as he finger fucks you until you're a squealing mess.

This isn't the first time Neteyam has done this.

There’d been girls back home. One girl in particular that didn't take it too personally that he needed tension relief from the war raging around them and not the arranged soon to be wife that everyone had been trying to shove down his throat back them.

This isn't the first time he’s done this but it’s the first time he’s felt this.

He nuzzles your head out from its hiding place in his shoulder. He has to watch your face, needs to see the way he’s making you fall apart.

This is the first time he’s felt the all consuming pull to be with another person. He wants you like this always. So close to him that he could taste the perspiration from your panting breaths.

You tighten up in his arms, going rigid as your pleasure crests. Your pussy fluttering and mouth gaping. It’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. You’re orgasm is ethereal, raw and fervid.

It’s a glance at Eywa. He sees the great mother on your face as you writhe atop of him.

It’s alot, he can tell. Fuck he can only imagine what you’re feeling if it had been this intense for him. Neteyam lets you hide again after a moment. Your hair covers your face as you shake and he thinks you might be crying, but he just brushes a hand down your damp back. Soothing you back down from the high.

The stars are brighter, even as the clouds gather in gluggy gray storm clusters. Everything seems a little bit more beautiful with his fingers still inside of you. It pains him to slide them out, missing the tight clutch of you once his wet fingers are exposed to the cool night air.

Tsaheylu, you’d begged him earlier. His kuru throbs and gooseflesh erupts all over his body just thinking about bonding with you. He wants it more than he’s ever wanted anything.

You nuzzle against him, nosing at his cheek. Your lips ghosting at the corner of his own.

“You okay?” you wonder. Your voice deep and husky. So sexy it makes his eyes close for a second.

“I should be asking you that”

“Mmm, no need to ask. I feel so so good” you assure him, starting to sit up a little “I um-I kind of got really into it. I’m sorry”

“Sorry?” Neteyam questions, keeping his grip on you as you start to squirm. Not in pleasure this time. But in shame, the embarrassed kind. Coming down from the pleasure haze, that anxious edge comes back. Unsure even as you’re on top of him. “Don’t say that. Why would you be sorry right now?”

You huff, nose scrunching. Ears flicking “I made a mess all over you”

It might not be very nice but he can't help but laugh at you. His pearly white canines on display as he hoots, the belly laughs jostling you from your perch.

“What!” you grumble, but smile all the same. “Stop”

“Hmm. I love messes like this. Feel free to make messes like this anytime” his fingers, still glistening come into view as he brings them to his mouth. Your eyes widen, glued to him. At the slight suction of his cheeks as he licks them in earnest “See. Easy clean up, you’ve got nothing to worry about, Pretty”

You taste as good as you smell. His tastebuds tingle as he swirls the new flavor around. Complex; a sweet musk that he wants to bathe in. He’s acutely aware of the way you watch him, your sweet cheeks burning at his lewdness.

When he frees his fingers with a pop, he gasps as your tongue surges in his mouth.

Tasting yourself on his spit.

Fuck.

He lets you kiss him breathless. Lets you run your sloppy kisses all over his face, down his chin. Across his neck. He arches into it all, gives you all the room you need. He’s well aware of what you’re doing. Working your strong scent into every inch of his bare skin.

Scent marking is a vital part of Na’vi courtship. Ancient, ritualistic and respected. Practiced by your ancestors before the first songs.

It’s makes something in him pur, knowing that you want him to smell like you.

“I think that's enough” He grins when your tongue dips into his navel “They can smell me, baby. You did a very thorough job”

The pout on your face is beyond cute as you sit up on your knees. The little ‘hmph’ sound so adorably out of place in the highly sexually charged situation “But I wanna smell like you too. How will anyone know I’m yours if they can’t smell it?”

Neteyam's nostrils flare. His ears swivel on his head and his tail gives a good lash at that. You want to be marked by him too. Are willing to parade his scent around all of those assholes in the clan that have been trying to win your affections, even when it was clear you were uninterested.

“Lay down” It’s an order, spoken softly but directly and you follow it at once. A giddy smile on your face as you lounge on the sand.

You are a vision.

Hair sprawling and messy behind your head. Your legs spread, back arched. Pretty nipples pebbled hard and on display. The only thing covering you is the floral necklace around your svelte throat.

It doesn't take him long at all. He strokes his striped cock firm and efficiently. Too many years of having to get himself off fast enough not to be caught has made his practiced movements almost perfect.

You’re looking at him like that again. Adoration clear as day on your face. Soft for him. You see him-

“Ol Ngati Kamiel” your voice is saccharin as you speak and he grunts violently as he comes.

Ropes of it land on your belly, across your exposed chest. It’s almost too much when you reach down swiping into the translucent, sticky, mess and start rubbing it into your smooth skin. He collapses shakily beside you, needing to collect himself for a minute before he helps your cause.

It’s the most intimate thing the two of you have done all night, laying together. Basking in the afterglow. Your scents mingle, dancing together in the evening breeze and Neteyam wants to imprint this memory somewhere deep.

The festivities are still raging- and you really do need to get back. It’s an important night. Your clan wants you there, the two of you need to make your rounds. Keep appearances. He won’t keep you from your duties, no matter how much he may want to.

After a quick dip in the ocean, removing the filth of love making but still wearing the strong scent of each other's pheromones, you begin to redress.

Neteyam watches. Highly distracted as you shimmy back into your tweng before looping your top around your shoulders. He works clumsily at the leather of his loincloth.

“Wait-”

The two of you are starting the trek back to the bonfire when he reaches out to halt you. His fingers play with wreath of lilies around your neck and his eyes bore into yours pleadingly.

The smile you give him is more radiant then the silvery moons that twinkle in the inky sky.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Even at the late hour the ceremonial bonfire still crackles with life. The festivities have ebbed into something slower, more intimate.

The adults of the clan are all that’s left, children long gone and tucked into their beds or dozing off against their parents' side.

Kiri sits on a carved log, in a circle of familiar faces.

Her mother and father had left not long ago. Tuk had been fighting slumber but succumbed after the Elders crooned a particularly slow song about the Sky and Sea’s forbidden love. Jake had hoisted the young girl up and bid everyone adieu, swaying on his feet as his wife hissed at him about how after all these years, he still couldn’t handle his liquor.

Now, Kiri listens to stories as she sips slowly on her cup of Kava. Enjoying the pleasant burn;

But not willing to end up like her dumb as rocks brother who is sprawled on the ground. Lo’ak is all but unconscious, every time he opens his eyes they are unfocused and hazy.

That’s what he gets for trying to out drink clan members twice his size. He’d been on the losing end of the drinking competition from the start- he was just too stubborn to see it.

Lo’ak is lucky Tsireya doesn’t care much for drinking, and is more than willing to tend to him. She keeps trying to force him to drink water and nibble on bits of food.

Ao’nung isn’t faring much better; he stares at the moon with a dopey smile as he sings, incredibly off tune, to the song that fills the air. A gaggle of girls surround him. Each hoping to catch his eye.

It’d been an all night thing, affections being thrown at him while he ignored it all too easily.

“My bed will be full this season, I’m not worried about a thing” he’d shrugged it off when asked about it.

Roxto’s boisterous laugh had dwindled down when Kiri shot him an extremely unamused glare.

She’s debating on leaving Lo’ak to sleep on the beach for the night when out of the shadows comes her eldest brother; who had been missing for most of the evening.

The hours had bled away and Kiri had tried not to worry too much about the confrontation that was going on just beyond the jovial bubble of the Metkayina celebrations. You had been distraught and Neteyam had never been good at voicing his own emotional needs-

Huh.

It looks like she had nothing to worry about.

The grin on Neteyam’s face is shit eating. It’s the smuggest she’s ever seen him. Even at his first Inknimaya, back with the Omiticaya, he hadn’t reacted like this. All head raised high and walking on a cloud.

You tug him along behind you, you guys’ fingers tightly intertwined. Your hips sway excitedly as you bounce along the sand. Kiri’s brother's chest is puffed out in obvious pride as he follows your footsteps.

Around his neck is Lei made up of vibrant pink flowers. It matches the one in your hair, that sits kind of lopsided now.

As the couple gets you closer, and Kiri catches a whiff of your approaching bodies, she wants to wretch. You’re drowning in each other's scents and it’s quite obvious what you had been up to all night.

“So gross” Kiri gags in accusation once you’re both in earshot.

You two owed her so big. She thinks naming one of your future children after her would suffice.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Okayyyyy. This was so fun to write and I already have Part Three brewing! TAGLIST IS CLOSED.

So like. Lots to address here. Tons to talk about. I’m gonna start the conversation but I hope you guys continue it in the comments.

1. The Motnaui is something I completely made up(…yes after watching Moana and taking inspiration for the name) lol it’s a ritualistic hunt that newly anointed hunters and warriors go on after their Metkayinan Iknimaya’s. I know all the different clans Iknimaya traditions would be different and I thought this would be cool.

2. I read a story in the Avatar fandom where the liquor they drank was called Kava and it just stuck in my brain. I know Kava is a drink in real life too, but for the sake of storytelling, please think about them as completely different things. The drink in this story is more of a wine/moonshine mixture deal. Would really fuck your ass upppp.

3. Fertility Season is obvs totes made up. Why is it rainy during it? Because I myself would want a week of non stop loving making with a nice little fire going, under lots of blankets with it chilly and rainy outside. And at the end of the day I’m writing for me lol

4. NETEYAM IS A SWEETHEART WHO STRUGGLES WITH HIS SELF WORTH JUST LIKE THE REST OF US. Please listen to the Artic Monkeys while you read this chapter(wanna be yours, do I wanna know, 505. THE LONGING)

5. Expect more POV’s to come! It will always be mostly rooted from Y/N’s point of view but I love touching base with all of the other characters. It’s so fun. I’m thinking a snippet of Neytiris in Part Three!

#neteyam smut #neteyam x reader smut #neteyam x reader #aged up neteyam #SMUT!#neteyam x metkayina!reader #neteyam x you #atwow neteyam

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meanbossart · 1 month

Text

Lore Ask Compilation: "Every Other Question Is About The Drow's Dick" edition

Oh I LOVE Minthara, her dialogue is absolutely fascinating and in my opinion some of the best written In the game. Experiencing her in my Evil Durge playthrough without having been spoiled to her companion scenes prior was great - the amount of depth they managed to add to her, without it at all feeling forced or rushed, and considering how much less time she gets to develop at our side is really well done. While nearly everyone's quests had me immersed, she was one of the few characters who really made me pause and think about the things she had to say to me, what she truly meant by them, and what they meant for me as an avatar doing an evil run.

We have a lot of characters in this game that are meant to be full of wisdom and experience, who are meant to be the ones who say the right thing at the right time that inspires us to make the correct choices, but I don't think either Halsin or Jaheira (and I love Jaheira) made me feel like I knew so little about life quite as Minthara did.

And, of course, she's absolutely hysterical. 10/10 I wish she had a proper companion quest past being rescued but I understand why she doesn't.

[MORE ASKS UNDER THE CUT]

It doesn't connect to the urethra since the slit in on top, so he nuts and pisses normal.

Also you 100% are not sorry, stop lying to me.

Man, I thought a lot about this one because I play so fast and loose with the content the game gives us that I'm positive there must be SOMETHING I'm completely disregarding, but I couldn't think of anything! I've chosen to pick slightly less obvious interpretations to some lines and text but nothing that completely deviates from canon, I don't think. If anyone has noticed something I neglected to mention, feel free to let me know - not because I want to revise it, but just because I'm curious!

For the second part of the question, not really. Larian did a great job of giving us plenty of room to play around in the dark urge's background, I think I'm yet to see something that I find to truly "not fit" in the ample freedom they've given us. I have my preferences, of course - I'm shocked to find that most dark urge's are NOT big hulking beasts, for example - in fact that seems to be the minority by far, but I realize that I have my... Uh... Biases.

You can see a cute little divot through the fabric if you look closely LOL

And nah, I think his penis has seen enough sharp points for a lifetime.

Well.

Unless someone decided to add some bite-marks to it.

HMMM, I... Don't think so.

He didn't cry as a baby, he didn't cry as a child (and this isn't something I just decided on now - this is a major reason why his foster drow mother even kept him around) he didn't really cry growing up or at any point during the campaign. I think he is capable of it - sadness in him just tends to be far more confusing a feeling than anything else.

He will have emotional moments in ANE, whether or not that will culminate in crying is something you will have to wait to find out LOL

Astarion has noticed this and just took it as a character trait - the drow doesn't cry, he just gets confused, angry, frustrated or simply bottles it up. While he can be demanding of his emotional maturity, he isn't going to try and dictate how he should experience his own feelings. If it did happen it would definitely catch him majorly off-guard, perhaps even shift the perception he has of him to a certain extent.

Oh my god you just know they All managed to be utterly quiet about it for as long as humanly (and unhumanly) possible until like, I don't even know, halfway through the Shadow-cursed lands where one day Karlach finally turns back to the group around the campfire after a half-nude drow has strut past and she's like "SO

"DOES ANYONE KNOWS WHY HIS DICK HAS A SNATCH"

And Wyll is like :0... Karlach you can't just ask people that.

And then she pointedly turns to Astarion and starts trying to interrogate him on how it works while Gale covers his ears and Shadowheart is like:

This is gonna blow you guys backwards but he does not do those things in front of people and thinks its rude if you do.

HMMM Mostly physically but it's a little subtle. He really enjoys interacting with Astarion's (and previously Orin's) hands - kissing, holding, caressing. Touching hair and faces as well. He can engage in more overt physical affection but usually Astarion has to be the one to initiate.

A disarmingly earnest proclamation of love and adoration here and there as well - he isn't shy in the slightest to tell people how he feels about them, he just isn't constantly reminding them of it unless inspiration strikes.

Most of all I think he expects his loved-ones to see his care for them in his tendency to go out of his way to help them achieve their goals.

He went with them to the Shadow-cursed lands but I never helped him fix the curse, so he stayed behind when the gang went onwards to the city. DU Drow didn't really like him so it was good-riddance as far as he was concerned.

If he had come along and propositioned him during act 3 - uh, you know the really mean rejection line you have as a choice during that dialogue? Yeah, that one lmao.

Alas, DU drow is just monogamous. He could entertain group-sex with a partner for fun at the most, but not ever a third person in the relationship. And In my personal interpretation (but by all means - everyone else have fun with their poly arrangements!) of Astarion and his delivery of the "this is about Halsin" line, I also thought he was lying about being comfortable with it, so I write him as monogamous as well.

Nothing. Nada. Not a thing. Say what you'd like about Bhaal but he sure knows how sculpt them out of his murder-meat.

(Thank you!!!)

#ask compilation #DU drow lore #bg3 spoilers

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chaotic-iguana · 8 months

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Hii! Again, congrats on 400 followers!💗 How about Joel Miller x Reader, with "Shut up and kiss me." for the prompt? <3 can't wait to see what you write! :)

wordcount: 1.2k

thank you for the ask and the congrats!! love u fr omg. let me know what u think!

Joel was being an asshole.

In a way, you suppose he always was. At least a little. Always scowling, grunting, biting out one-word responses. It’s why you and Ellie had taken to (affectionately) calling him a caveman from time to time, resulting in a sharp glare at both of you before he’d just shake his head and walk away.

Most of Jackson was afraid of him. This hulking, snarling figure who towered over them all, tension practically rolling off him in waves. His brother might be the leader, but Joel was the one with the real sense of authority to him. But you never truly got that side of him. None of that was for you. Ever. No, for you, Joel had reserved only his softest gaze. Large, scarred hands brushing gently against yours. Lips curling up - albeit slightly - at your offbeat singing rather than twisting in displeasure or growling at you to shut up.

Ellie had noticed it, too. Had giggled while teasing him about his childish crush. He’d batted her away, of course. Gruffly told her to go check on the pasta. But she was right, how couldn’t she be? You were the sweetest, prettiest thing he had ever seen in his damn life, but he never could find the words to tell you that.

And you might have been sweet - and pretty - but you were also stubborn. You refused to acknowledge any of what was between the two of you - that simmering, electric something lingering in the air when you were with him, leaving the taste of honey and the sweet scent of jasmine lingering in your mind long, long after. You wanted him to say it, for him to tell you what he wants. Waiting wasn’t a problem. Not like you had much but time.

But Joel simply didn’t know how to. He had lost far too much, far too fast. Only now, with Ellie, was he beginning to pick up the fractured pieces of who he used to be. He needed time.

And so the limbo continued, as it had for years.

You didn’t mind.

But then winter rolled around, and with it came February - specifically, the fourteenth. Maria, in her efforts to make life seem as normal and unaffected as possible, had held a Valentine’s dance, and scoured roses from god-knew-where for Jackson residents to gift to those they wanted to take.

And you had gotten one. Some kid (compared to him, anyways) named James had approached you when you were on your way home from patrol, and stuttered his way through asking you to go with him. You’d laughed, politely taken the rose, but had whispered to him that you already had a date.

Joel hadn’t heard the whisper, though. All he’d seen was you, beaming at the boy like you beamed at him. Laughing, putting a hand on his shoulder, taking the flower and leaning in. He’d looked away, then. Walked home, faster than usual, his step unfaltering. He refused to watch any longer.

But since then, which had been a week ago, he hadn’t even looked in your direction. Hardly spoke to you. He was like a stranger - paying little to no attention to anything you said, or ignoring you entirely. Brushing past you while you were mid-sentence. He’d closed himself off entirely. You were waiting for him to ask you to the dance, but when you asked Ellie what his plans were, she said he’d told her he was just gonna catch up on some sleep. Sleep? Seriously?

And now the dance was tonight, and you didn’t know what to do. You put on your cleanest clothes, did your hair in a half-up style that he’d complimented once, and waited. All night, at The Tipsy Bison. It was way past midnight, when everyone had gone home and you’d grown tired of nursing the same drink you’d been sitting with all night, snapping your head towards the door every time it opened. Most people had come, danced, drank, and gone home. And you were still here, like an idiot.

Tears of frustration building in your eyes, you didn’t even realise where you were going until you’d slammed your glass on the bar, wrenched the door open, and stomped your way over to Joel’s, now loitering outside his front door. You shuffled on your feet, unsure what to do, before the door swung open - making you step back in alarm.

And then he was stepping out , with a scowl on his face, brows furrowed as he crossed his arms over his chest and looked down at you.

“Can I help ya?” His voice was so fucking cold and you couldn’t even think through the stabbing pain in your chest. Before you knew it, you were choking on sobs, shaking on his doorstep. Instantly, his anger melted into worry, eyes wide and panicked as his arms curled around your shoulders gently. “What’s wrong? What’s happened? Did he do somethin’? Gonna break his fuckin’ face, swear to God.” And that just made you cry harder - because what in the fuck was he talking about? Who the hell was this “he”? You brought your hands up to your face, pawing at your eyes, but he gripped them delicately. “What’d he do?” His eyes were blazing now; fury evident in his tone. That was your breaking point, and you erupted, fueled by your anger and stumbling your way through a lecture somehow with sobs shuddering through you.

“Who the f-fuck is ‘he’, Joel? Who the hell are you talk-ing about? I was-I waited, Joel. You wouldn’t-you-you didn’t even ask me out to the dance, and it was fi-I was sad at first but then I was like- I thought m-maybe you were be-being shy. For whatever fucking reason. And then-“ you gulp in a shaky breath, swallowing to clear the snot in your throat before continuing. “And th-then I waited there. All-all night. For you. Why would there ever be anyone else? But you’ve be-been so mean and I haven’t done anyth-I don’t deserve it and I miss you. What-why are you angry w-with me?”

You could see your words sink in. His shoulders slumped, mouth pressing into a straight line as he looked down, hands falling. He was ashamed, and he looked like a schoolboy being told off as he did it. But then another one of your tears fell on his hand, and he was looking at you again.

“‘S all my fault, baby. You ain’t done nothin’. “ A deep breath. “I saw ‘m give you the rose. James. Saw you smile at him, real pretty, too. Thought you’d be with him tonight. Got inside my own head, y’know? Didn’t know how’t ask you to the dance, honey. Didn’t know how’t say it. Didn’t know how’t tell you I lov-“ and suddenly the large, stoic man in front you becomes a bumbling mess, trying desperately to cover up the words he’s been struggling to utter for half a decade.

He stutters for a few seconds, then takes a deep breath and closes his eyes, resigning himself to his fate. It takes you fisting his shirt at his shoulder for his eyes to snap open again, confusion written on his face.

“Shut up and kiss me, Miller.”

And for once in his life, he shut his mouth and obeyed.

hello loves, as always - thank you for reading. comment your thoughts or find me on ao3. stay hydrated and have a great day! taglist (message me to be removed, no hard feelings): @imherefordeanandbones, @theywhowriteandknowthings, @josephquinnswhore, @millerscoffee, @nostalxgic, @sscorpiiio, @pedrosaidsheispunk. @its-nebuleuse, @sofiparallel, @mandoisapunk, @bastardmandennis, @pawnshopb1ues, dividers by @reveriesources! go check them out they’re amazing.

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maryangelex · 7 months

Text

Never Let Me Go (Pt. 3)

John Price x f! Reader

Part 4

A/N: this is a long one!!! but here's the smut i promised ;) believe me when i say there's plenty to come.

Song is In My Feelings because of course!!!!!

Happy reading <3

Warnings: NSFW like always, smut, a bit dubcon (?), price is a perv and steals panties.

Tomorrow at 8.

Those were the only words occupying your brain ever since they came out of John's mouth. The feeling of his fingers against your temple, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, was still tingling on your skin a whole day later.

You had gone to work the next day thinking of nothing but the upcoming date. Your cousin couldn't be more elated for you, even telling you to get out much earlier than your regular closing time just so you could get ready. You shook your head at the request but did not decline it, knowing that you would need ample time to soothe your nerves and perfect yourself before meeting with John tonight.

During your shift, you didn't expect to see him because of your plans. But he made sure to make a quick appearance at the cafe, and you couldn't complain.

As you wiped down the counter, you caught a glimpse of the man's hulking form through the large windows at the front of the store. Your cheeks were immediately pulled by the smile that grew across your lips. As he walked in, he returned the expression; a kind tight-lipped smile that crinkled the corners of his eyes.

And although you loved the man's handsome face, your eyes were more fixated on his toned body, an image you had not been graced with since you met him. You knew those sweaters weren't doing him justice. John had athletic wear on, sporting a tight thermal shirt that contoured every bulging muscle on his arms and chest. His hair was dampened by sweat and his cheeks lightly flushed.

You practically drooled at the sight. Something in you told you that he was only here to show off, too. Again, you couldn't complain.

His body pressed against the counter, propped on his elbows for support as he leaned forward to speak to you. It only made his solid biceps bulge even more under his shirt, looking like they'd tear through the fabric if he shifted ever so slightly.

"Mornin', John," you greeted him politely, raking your eyes along his body briefly and subconsciously.

His smile turned into a sly smirk as if knowing the effect he had on you.

"Mornin', love," he said, "thought I'd pay you a quick visit on my run."

"Too eager to wait for tonight?" you quipped, as you took a bottle of water from the cooler behind the counter, handing it over to him.

He accepted with a light 'cheers' as he downed it quickly before saying, "I just can't go on 'bout my day without seein' ya."

You rolled your eyes at him, suppressing your smile from growing wider, but your cheeks betrayed you by staining in pink.

When he finished his water in a final gulp, with a heavy sigh of relief, he tipped the empty vessel at you in gratitude before leaving.

"I'll see you at 8 tonight then, love," he said with certitude. You scoffed, giving him an affirmative nod as you tried to play it cool. In your best efforts to hide the nerves raging within you.

At 5 in the afternoon, your cousin couldn't push you out of the cafe any more adamantly. You kept insisting that you should stay otherwise she'd kill herself managing the closing shift. But of course, she succeeded at pushing you and locking you out, shooing you away and saying "Go put yourself together for the man!"

You raced to your apartment, kicking your shoes off peeling every layer of your outfit off and tossing everything in your hamper, and scampered to the shower to wash yourself as if you were covered in all sorts of grime. You washed your hair, exfoliated, did steps of your skincare you didn't even know you had and coated yourself in body lotion to the point you could have slid through the bars of a jail cell.

Some three hours to go, you stood in front of your closet wrapped in a towel, sorting through every article of clothing you owned with the sound of the hangers scraping across the rack echoing through your empty apartment. You cursed at yourself when nothing was deemed fit for the occasion. If anyone saw you right now and didn't know any better they'd think you were about to meet the king.

John had texted you earlier about the location of your date. You had noticed in the time you two had texted each other that the man misused emojis and had no concept of abbreviations of slang; you found it endearing.

Pub on Wright Street. x

Was marked as read on your phone screen.

You settled for jeans and a top you hadn't taken the tag off, in your best efforts to remain casual, still trying to put up the facade that you weren't as eager as you were to go on a date with John.

Truth be told, you hadn't gone on a date in months. Maybe the whole year, actually. There just weren't any blokes that you wanted to give the time of day. None of them left an impression on you the way John had, with his kind smile and his crystal eyes. He was magnetizing, and the fact that he made it seem like all his attention was reserved for you made you feel like putting some effort on him was worth it.

In your remaining time, you dabbed some makeup on your face and put some finishing touches on yourself. You felt strange when you looked at your reflection like a different person was looking back at you. But it was in the best way possible; this person was someone more confident and sure of herself. You only hoped John saw the same in you at your date. You hoped this was worth the effort.

Though the pub was relatively close, you called yourself a cab to preserve your look, not wanting to show up sweaty and disheveled to your date. By the time you made it, it was still 20 minutes till 8, and the sight of John already being there brought an immense sense of relief. Like a true gentleman, he had arrived much earlier than you had agreed. Maybe he was as nervous as you were and needed time to collect himself. But someone as suave as him, who stood with a confident posture, most likely did not feel an ounce of worry, you thought.

He opened the door of the cab for you, stretching out a hand to help you step out. He took your hand in his, and you felt the roughness of his palm. A calloused hand held your much silkier one with a supportive grip as you stepped out of the cab and scanned your eyes over him.

God, he's stunning, you thought. The smell of his cologne wafted into your nostrils, a teakwood mahogany scent mixed with the smokey smell of a cigar. It was intoxicating, making your chest burn like a bonfire. He was dressed quite handsomely, like always, too. Nothing fancy, but the fact that it was him wearing the clothes made him automatically attractive.

You felt his gaze on you as well, except he was much more shameless than you when it came to his observations.

"Fuckin' hell, love, you look gorgeous," he crooned. You gave him an embarrassed look and lightly swatted at his arm, which still hadn't let go of your hand. He chuckled lightly at the effect his words had on you.

"You don't look too bad y'self, John," your voice was almost a whisper, and he gave you a flattered smile and a squeeze of your hand.

He escorted you inside the pub, a booth for the two of you had even been arranged. To call the place a pub was underselling it. It was more like a newly opened restaurant with the inspiration being a pub. You'd be lying if you said you weren't impressed, and maybe even a little bit embarrassed to think John would pick a place any less grand than this for your date.

"This is a really nice place, I feel underdressed," you confessed as you looked around at the wooden details and old-fashioned decor.

John scoffed at your statement, "You couldn't be more perfect, doll." He hadn't taken your eyes off you as he sat next to you in the booth, his knee lightly bumping against yours. The close proximity to his grandiose presence made you feel claustrophobic like you were witness to a greater power next to you. The warmth of his body was impossible to close, and his much larger frame made you feel shielded from the world around you.

John ordered for the two of you. Normally this was a turn-off for you, to have a man dictate what you should eat. But the fact that it was him and that you sensed no ulterior motive of disrespect on his part, made it almost attractive, like it was a display of his leadership.

And you were glad he was the one to order when the food and drinks came around. He confessed he came to the pub often because he wasn't the best cook; the most he could make himself was a decent breakfast but was clueless when it came to proper meals.

"I'll come around here for dinner and to your shop for the sweets," he proposed.

"Or you can come by mine and save some money," you blurted out with a sense of confidence you didn't know you had. The alcohol of the drinks he ordered was certainly taking effect on you.

John smirked at your response, a hint of pink dusted his bearded cheeks, "I'll take your offer then, love." His voice was sultry as he took a sip of his bourbon, his eyes not straying from you through a half-lidded gaze.

The two of you cleared the plates of food between conversations. The alcohol made the flow of your banter easier and less reserved. Your laughs went from timid chuckles to your more natural, louder guffaws. It made John beam whenever he made you laugh, watching you bear your true, uncensored self to him bit by bit.

When the waiter took the plates away, you were only left with your third round of drinks, maybe fourth, actually; you'd lost count. Your ears and cheeks were flushed red and your mind was woozy. John was hardly fazed in comparison, now reclined back against the seat with a long, beefy arm outstretched behind you on the booth, almost as if claiming you to the public. It made you feel smaller than you were compared to him.

He brought his refilled glass of bourbon to his lips, his blue eyes rested on you, pupils masking his irises like a waning crescent moon. Could be the dim lights, you thought, or something else. You didn't want to assume, but you wouldn't be upset if it was the latter. You'd be kidding yourself to think you weren't starting to get hot and bothered from the mix of liquor and the fact that the man you were crushing on was mere inches away from you.

There was a beat of silence for a moment between the two of you. John's stare was burning your skin like a laser, and you avoided his eyes in fear you'd be turned to stone from looking at him. You minded your drink until he spoke up.

"I've got a confession to make, love," he sighed heavily, glugging the contents of his cup before continuing, "don't want us startin' off without any secrecy."

Your eyes now snapped up to his face, giving him a puzzled look.

Fuck, so he is married, your mind immediately jumped to conclusion. Of course, he was married, this is just your luck! And who wouldn't want to marry a man this fit? His poor wife--

"Please don't tell me you're married!" you blurted out impulsively. John's eyes widened and he took a moment before snorting and erupting into a boisterous laugh. The man was practically in tears as he rubbed a knuckle across his eye, deescalating from his bout of laughter.

"No, love, no need to worry 'bout that," he clarified. He turned to look at you again, adoration in his eyes, as if you making him laugh was carving even more space for you in his heart.

"Right, erm, sorry," you apologized in embarrassment but couldn't help but chuckle a bit with him, a bit of relief washing over you.

"Truth is, erm, the day we met I wasn't really lost in your bookstore," he started as he rubbed a hand behind his neck, "I knew exactly what I was lookin' for, it gets borin' on leave 'n I had a good book in mind..."

Your face was still puzzled as you watched him get flustered.

"I know how awfully corny this sounds but, I saw you behind the counter 'n thought 'Fuck I've gotta find a way to talk to this pretty thing', so I made m'self look like an idiot so I could talk to ya."

You paused for a second, taking note of multiple things in his confession. One, he thought you were pretty from the get-go. Two, he was itching to talk to you. And three, he made the effort, as silly as it was, to approach you. This big ol' bloke was just a big softie.

His face contorted into a concerned expression at your silence, his body shifting and tensing. "I know it sounds odd but-- I mean--" he stammered, interrupted by the sound of your laughter.

"Oh, John," was all you could manage shaking your head in disbelief at his confession. His body relaxed and the smile returned to his pink face. Suddenly, you felt no sense of nervousness around him, given that he was pining just as much as you all this time, feigning as much nonchalance as you had been (more successfully, though).

Once your laughter toned down you mindlessly placed a comforting hand on his thigh. The solid muscle beneath your touch flexed, the feeling shooting straight to the space between your legs. But you peered up at him with glistening eyes, giving him an affectionate look.

His eyes locked with yours and he brought a hand up to your cheek, giving the fat there a light scolding pinch, "Can't believe you're laughin' when 'm bein' vulnerable."

You giggled, "How could I not!" you retorted. The two of you shared another moment of pleasant silence as you stared at each other, feeling like you had known the man in front of you for decades. Like you were two old lovers on their nth date tonight.

"Y'wanna get out of here, doll?" he cooed, and your response was a nod and a hum.

John paid for the two of you, of course, despite your adamant protesting. His excuse was that you had given him too many teas, coffees, and sweets on the house, and scolded that that was no way to run a business.

When the two of you exited the pub, you stood facing him at the front of the place. He had draped your jacket over your shoulders and was adjusting the front to keep you cozy from the chilly wind. You felt woozy on your feet but nothing you couldn't handle. John's radiated body heat mixed with your jacket and the alcohol in your system was keeping you warm.

Once he was satisfied with how he placed your jacket on you, he moved his hand up to your face. Again, he tucked a stay piece of your hair back into your eat, but this time he brushed the knuckle of his index finger over your cheekbone. Then it trailed to under your chin. You peered up at him with your doe eyes and you were greeted with those shadowy eyes. There was something else in them, though, something beyond kindness, with more intensity, maybe even desire.

It made you feel a burning sensation in the pit of your stomach, the heat radiated between your legs as well. And you wanted John to help you put out that fire.

The man whispered, "Let me take ya home, dove." And you gave him an approving nod. He took your hand in yours again, tangling your fingers together as he took you back to your flat.

The two of you stood outside the front door. John's body was towering close to yours and he looked down at you with the lustful glint in his eyes. Your cheeks burned and your body ached for him to make a move, any move. You just wanted to feel his touch once again. Your hands twitched at your sides.

His hand went up to your hair again, twirling a strand between his fingers this time. Then it reached up to pet your hair on the side of your head. It found its way back to your cheek, brushing his knuckles against the soft, flustered skin, before cupping your face in one hand. You leaned against his touch. His other hand joined at cupping the other side of your face, his thumbs brushing your cheeks. You could feel his hot breath near your face.

"May I?" he whispered, his voice husky and seductive yet gentle and considerate. You nodded in his hands and let out the softest 'of course,' granting him permission.

John didn't hesitate the second you gave him your approval and leaned in to plant a kiss on your lips. It was gentle but didn't lack an ounce of desire. He pulled back for a moment to savor the first taste of your lips. Your hands were shyly placed on his waist, feeling the tenderness of his body as they scaled up to his back.

You rose up on the tip of your toes to meet his lips as he leaned back in to kiss you a second time. Your gesture showed him you were just as eager, that you had just as much desire to kiss him again and again. It was more passionate this time, less reserved. His lips were buttery soft and you melted in the taste of him, in the feeling of his mouth on yours. You felt bold enough to let your tongue pry between his lips and he welcomed it with his own.

You emitted a soft hum within the kiss. One of John's hands snaked around your waist, pulling you flush to his body. He was a furnace, the feeling of his body slotted against yours burnt you like hot coals. Your hands draped over his shoulders, melding your body with his as he kissed you deeply.

You pulled away from the kiss momentarily, only to catch your breath. John held your face with one hand and kept you close. The tip of his narrow nose brushed against yours. His eyes held yours as his thumb rubbed your cheek once more.

You anticipated him to ask to come inside your flat. Well, you were praying he'd ask you if he could come inside. The heat between your legs was simmering, the wetness was physically palpable and you ached for him, partially blaming the alcohol for your body's intense reaction.

"I'll see you tomorrow, love," John purred, planting a goodbye kiss on your other cheek. It took a moment for you to catch on when he stepped back from you and you felt the cold from his absence. Your mind was dumbfounded, but you nodded hesitantly before turning slightly to unlock your door. John flashed you one of his kind smiles before he went on his way back to his apartment. You returned it out of politeness, to not make it obvious how confused you were.

When you entered your flat and closed to door, you leaned your back against it and let out a heavy sigh. You felt like a knobhead for thinking someone like John would just fuck you on the first date. He wasn't just some bloke that had a one-night stand and never called you back, not what you were used to, and you kicked yourself for even remotely thinking John would do the same. He actually wanted to take his time with you and put effort into you. You rubbed your hand over your face in frustration and let out a groan.

But quickly you decided to look on the bright side, though, bringing your fingers to your kiss-swollen lips as you savored the lingering taste of John, and the memory of mere minutes ago when he kissed you flooding back into your mind and making you squeal.

That night you fell asleep giddy like a schoolgirl at the thought of seeing him again tomorrow.

It was very early in the morning when you came into the cafe. The door of the cafe was unlocked but the sign was still flipped on 'Closed' so no customers would come in as you got the shop ready. You had already gotten everything behind the counter arranged; pastries set out, espresso machine cleaned, counter wiped. So you moved on to the shelves to do some light dusting over the books, arranging a few of them that had been misplaced.

You heard the ringing of the bell, letting you know someone had just come in. You knew it wasn't your cousin because she had asked you to take over for the day since she went on a girl's trip, so you assumed it was a customer and politely raised your voice to say, "Sorry, we're still closed!". You peeked over to the door to see if you were correct to assume it was a confused patron only to find John walking past the entrance. He approached you with an apologetic smile.

" 'S just me, love, sorry for showin' up so early," he said, standing in close proximity to you now between the bookshelves. You smiled at him with a faint blush; it was hard not to see him differently after last night.

"No worries, John," you said, but your smile faded as concern crept on you, wondering what he was doing here. He seemed uneasy, fidgeting hands finding comfort in the pockets of his jacket. "Something the matter?" you asked softly.

" 'Bout last night, doll," he started. Your mind was racing again, worrying that he regretted kissing you, that he felt he made a mistake in kissing you or even asking you out or pursuing you to begin with. You were about to tell him it was alright, that you could pretend nothing happened, that you'd forget about it and return to normal.

"I shoulda gone inside with ya," he sighed. Now you were even more confused.

"What do you mean?"

"I spent all night kickin' m'self for not...askin' you to let me come into your flat." His hands came out of his pockets as he stepped closer to you, his body inching against yours the same way he did last night. You froze looking up at him, taking a couple of steps back as he was almost pressing his tall body against yours. You were now trapped between his large figure and the bookshelf behind you. John's hands found their way to your waist and you felt a ragged breath against your face, the smell of cigars flowing into your nose. You shakily placed your own hands on his strong forearms. The proximity of his body against yours pooled arousal in your underwear.

"J-John, I don't--" you stammered, confusion still persistent in your mind. He wanted to come inside with you, the same way you did?

"I couldn't stop thinkin' 'bout you, dove," he purred, lips brushing against your own, the hairs of his mustache tickling your upper lip. "I know y'wanted me to come inside with you, I saw it in your pretty face... s'that right?"

You nodded more hastily than you intended; your heart was beating out of your chest as your breath hitched. Fuck, did you want him, did you spend the rest of the night thinking of him, of the things he could have done to you if he had come inside. Your hands stroked up his arms and up to rest on his shoulders, gripping and lightly tugging the fabric of his jacket, as if beginning him to kiss you again in the seclusion of the bookshelves.

He complied and gave you a deep all-consuming kiss that you drowned in like a flood. John pulled away but kept his nose against yours and whispered into your lips, "Let me make it up to you, so you can forgive me, yeah?"

Your eyes widened as you watched the man kneel in front of you. His palms massaged the sides of your body, stroking the tender flesh of your outer thighs. He peered up at you with pleading, dark eyes, like a man begging for God's forgiveness on a church pew. You felt his burning touch on your skin, the sensation making your core flutter and dampen even more.

"J-John, what are you--" you gasped when you felt the wetness of his lips over your thighs as he peppered kisses over the soft flesh. You didn't know what to do with your hands (or yourself, for that matter) so you settled them over his broad shoulders, unsure if you should push him away or if you wanted to pull him closer to let him do whatever it is he wanted to do.

" 'M just apologizin', pretty girl," he cooed against your thigh. His hands scaled up your thighs, slithering under your mini skirt, grabbing the waistband of your knickers and dragging them down painfully slow, making sure to graze his knuckles against your skin. You watched his movements and he watched your flustered expressions react to every one of his actions.

When your knickers reached your ankles he helped you delicately step out of them, and he pervertedly pocketed the garment with a light smirk tugging at his lips. "Don't worry, I'll give 'em back to you next time, sweetheart." was all he said in that regard. Your pussy twitched at the gesture, making you bite your lip coyly as a small moan escaped you.

John folded the hem of your skirt up lightly as he kissed the inside of your thighs, teasingly close to your sopping sex. He gave the plump flesh light nips to taunt you further, loving the sounds that came out of you every time he did so. His rough hands kneaded at the flesh of your thighs before hooking one of your legs over his shoulder, making your bare cunt more exposed for him, granting him access.

You gasped when he buried his face between your legs, your skirt masking the rest of his face except for those clear blue eyes that feigned innocence as they peered up at you. His lips kissed your sex tenderly, the same way they had kissed your mouth just moments ago. You let out a low moan at the sensation, his facial hair brushing over your vulva made you shiver. Another tender kiss was planted against your slit, followed by another, and another.

"John," you begged, desperation surging in you. And who was he to deny you anything? So to please the pretty girl's request, his flattened tongue slowly lapped at your lips. You threw your head back, a slow moan emanating from your throat, and your fists clenching on the fabric on his shoulders.

"Fuckk, your pretty moans, baby," his voice was muffled. Another slow swipe of his hot tongue, this time the tip of his tongue was pointed and it slid between your folds, caressing your pleading clitoris. It made you jump lightly, and it only prompted him to lick over the sensitive bud even more.

Now the man hungrily licked your pussy, paying utmost attention to your swollen clit. His hands firmly held your thighs as he smothered himself with your cunt. The pace of his tongue quickened, and not an inch of your pussy was left untouched by his mouth.

You were made a mess of indecent moans as John devoured you, your hips lightly rutting against his face. You mentally thanked the security camera guy for not showing up to fix them, and you prayed that everyone passing by would read the 'Closed' sign and that the bookshelves shielded any outsider from the sinful act going on between you and John.

John alternated between piercing his tongue into the entrance of your pussy and suckling on your desperate clit. His eyes closed as he lost himself in your pussy, humming in pleasure as he savored your taste and drank in your moans. His hands snaked up your torso to knead at the tender flesh of your breasts, rubbing his thumbs over your pointed nipples through the fabric of your shirt.

"Perfect fuckin' pussy, baby...so fuckin' sweet," he said, not removing his mouth from you. You whined, one of your hands coming to grip at the hair on the crown of his head, pressing him further against your cunt which made him moan and go absolutely mad. He grabbed the underside of your thighs and draped both of them over his shoulders; the only things supporting your body were John's strong arms and the shelf behind you. Your other hand gripped the shelf behind you to find some leverage.

John was drunk on your juices, fervently eating you out. One of his hands snaked under you to press two thick digits against your entrance. His lips sucked mercilessly at your clit as he pumped your pussy with his fingers now. You practically screamed his name when you felt the intrusion.

"Love hearin' you say my name like that, sweetheart," he slurred, his fingers curling within your walls and pressing against that spongey spot inside of you that made you roll your eyes to the back of your head. You were so fucking close and John knew it.

"Be good 'n cum for me, darlin', he moaned, becoming more and more desperate to feel you clench around his fingers, to feel your juices coat his face.

And you did just that. With a few more pumps of his fingers and more laps of his tongue on your pussy, you were sent over the edge. You let out a final choked-out moan as your body convulsed against the shelf. Your thighs tightened and quaked around John's head the same way your walls clenched tightly around his fingers.

He hummed against your sex, slowing down as he let you ride your orgasm on his face and fingers; your slick dripping down your thighs and onto his face. Those ocean eyes lovingly watched your face contort as you reached your high. But you were too lost in euphoria to even notice; your body was almost going limp in John's hold and all you felt was overwhelming pleasure crashing over you.

You cursed breathlessly, trying to gather yourself. As you slowly came to, you could hear John's soft praises against your thigh, "Did so good f'me, love... my sweet girl." He planted tender, innocent kisses against your flesh as he praised you. He delicately helped you stand up on your own. He rose up to his full height and held you, offering you support on your shaky legs.

"Alright, darlin'?" he said, to which you nodded your head and managed to find your bearings. John chuckled at the sight of your helpless self. Something sadistic in him enjoying watching you like this, depending on him, basically.

You looked up at him, your pupils were still blown and your face was hot. That damned kind smile of his was plastered on his face, but there was a hint of malice hiding behind it. Smug bastard, you thought. You couldn't find any words to say to him, realizing what you just let this man do to you in the middle of your store.

"All's forgiven, then, love?" he had the nerve to say, smoothing the flyaways on your hair and brushing his knuckles over your cheek tenderly. You nodded sheepishly. You didn't even know what you were really forgiving him for, you were never upset with him to begin with, but with the indulgent pleasure he had just given you, you didn't mind forgiving him more often.

You averted his gaze, opting to look at your feet in embarrassment. And it was then that you caught a glimpse of the tightness in his pants. His hardened member peered back at you in the confines of his jeans. You looked up at him, cheeks flushed, silently asking him if he needed you to take care of him in return when your hand reached to palm him. He hummed, but his hand engulfed yours and brought it to his lips, giving them a soft kiss, beard still damp with your juices.

"Leave that f'next time, pretty," he chuckled. Next time, you thought, if it was anything like this then you couldn't wait for next time. You were already pining for more of John after having just finished all over his face.

You moved your hand and placed it on his cheek wordlessly; he leaned into your touch as he looked at you lovingly.

"Can I kiss you again, John?" you stammered shyly, your tone hushed.

The man chuckled, "Of course you can," leaning in to crash his lips on yours. You tasted yourself in his mouth, smelled yourself soaked into his beard. The kiss was soft but prolonged as if he was getting ready to say bye once again.

The two of you stood there in silence for a moment. You completely forgot where you were and that you had a shift to start, but you didn't mind forgetting if it involved staying with John like this the rest of the day. Except John had to snap you out of your fantasy when he whispered to you that he had to go. You nodded your head, the most you could fathom to respond with lately.

The man gave you another chaste kiss on your lips, then a peck on your nose, and a last one on your forehead before he announced his departure and went on his way out the door.

You stood there recalling what just happened, burying your beet-red face into your hands as you squealed. The absence of your panties became evident all of a sudden as well and it only increased your ever-growing embarrassment. You decided no one was going to die over the shop being closed for the day as you gathered your things and dashed out the door, locking up before leaving, of course. No way you'd work comando with just a skirt, you thought, and no way you'd work after all that just happened in the very business you ran.

On your way back to your apartment you smiled to yourself, biting your lip as you thought about John. You thought about how no man in your life had ever done something like that, much less made you feel that good.

John was bringing out a side of you that you didn't know existed.

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waklman · 1 year

Text

Like A Princess

summary: more glimpses into your relationship with rooster where you give him the princess treatment instead.

pairing: bradley bradshaw x female reader.

warnings: very brief allusions to sex. 18+ blog in general.

a/n: continuance/epilogue to princess treatment (read for context!) missed this duo so i decided to bring them back but more extensively this time :). indepedent bf x princess treatment gf trope.

word count: 2.8k

something ‘bout you masterlist.

“Get on.”

“What?” Bradley watches in confusion as you turn your back towards him. But he quickly catches on once you start to bend your knees, lowering yourself in front of him. You want to carry him into the house.

“Nope. Absolutely not,” he shakes his head, waiting for you to get back up. But you don’t. “I am not getting on your back. Are you kidding me?” He scoffs, sounding almost offended.

“You saw me bring in twenty bags of groceries just last week, without making a second trip back to the car,” you proclaim proudly, still squatting in front of him. “So c’mere,” you call out to him again, blindly reaching behind you, searching for his legs.

“So?” he huffs, pushing himself further in the car, moving away from your yearning hands. Bradley’s well aware that putting up a fight is going to get him in trouble, but there’s no way in hell that he’s letting you transport him inside. “If you give me a piggyback ride, it’ll send us both back to the hospital again,” he protests.

You stand back up at his statement, spinning on your heels to face him, with two hands planted on your hips.

Bradley gulps, seeing your fingers drum against your hip bone–you don’t plan on taking no as an answer. “Tell me how you’ll get inside with that ankle then,” you press him, eyes drifting down to his injury.

The kind nurse—who you spent most of the night with, tightly bandaged him up, but it’s obvious that his ankle is still swollen under the wrappings.

Bradley takes notice of the glint of remorse in your eyes as you assess his sprained ankle. The ‘playful’ wrestling from earlier had taken an unexpected turn once you sent him flying off the bed, resulting in a last minute trip to the emergency room.

And though Bradley insisted that it wasn't your fault, you still found it hard to swallow back the guilt you felt every time you looked at him.

Bradley sighs, carding a hand through his hair—unsure of how to talk you out of this, he knows you're just trying to make up for the accident, in your own strange way. “Honey, if you lift me, we’re both going right down,” he tries to reason with you.

“You don’t think..I’m capable?” You pretend to deflate. If insisting won’t work on him, maybe some light manipulation would.

Bradley begins to sputter–just as you predicted, reeled in by your pout. “What? No of course not–Honey I just–”

Bradley bites down on his tongue—not wanting to say the wrong thing.

You take it as a chance to cleverly bat your lashes at him as he gives you an empty stare, trying to weigh the decision in his head.

And like always, Bradley can’t muster up enough willpower to combat your pleading eyes. “Let’s give it a try,” he sighs, admitting defeat.

You automatically spin around before he can change his mind, biting down on your bottom lip as your mouth stretches into triumphant grin.

“But if you can't even lift me, I’m walking on my own, okay?” he clarifies, hesitantly wrapping his arms around your neck. You hum, agreeing to his rule, attaching his legs onto each side of your hips–clamping two hands around the back of his thighs to support his weight.

After sucking in one deep breath, you easily lift him up in one go.

Bradley can barely process what’s going on as you begin taking determined steps towards the intended destination. “What the hell?! How are you—What?!” Bradley gawks at your strength, snapping his neck to look behind him, seeing his precious Bronco grow further from his vision.

“Holy shit, have I been dating the she-hulk this whole time?” He asks in disbelief, hung onto your back like a koala.

“..I told you..I could…do it,” you answer through short breaths, lugging him up the front steps. “Yeah…remind me to never get you mad," he lowly mutters, resting his chin on top of your head. The vibration of his throat can be felt against the back of your head.

You’re both in front of his door now. “Bradley,” you whine. “I would never lay my hands on you.”

“Okay? So who had me in that deadly headlock earlier?” He scoffs, still sour that you won the round with that move.

You give his thighs a quick squeeze through the denim. “Okay? So who wanted to fight like WWE wrestlers in the first place?” You remark.

Bradley blows air through his nose. “Whatever," he whispers under his breath. You don’t even have to see him to know he’s rolling his eyes too.

“Whatever," you mock him, imitating his deep voice.

“Now let’s get you inside, princess,” you finally declare—putting an end to the bickering. You hoist him further up your back, and Bradley gladly lets you, despite his protests from earlier.

While you remove one hand from him, searching for the keys in your pocket, Bradley moves to press a ‘sorry i’m being so stubborn’ kiss to your cheek.

You smile, feeling him rest his cheek onto your shoulder next. “..Thank you for takin’ care of me babybear," he shyly mumbles in your ear.

“What do you think you’re doing back there missy?” Bradley asks, eyes still trained onto the tablet in his hands.

“Nothing..” you mutter, halting all movement. But there’s really no point–your hands are already half way up his back, lifting up the back of his shirt. You’d been slowly trying to slip off the cotton tee–since getting him hooked onto the romcom, How to lose a guy in 10 days.

After strategically placing the device in his hands, it didn’t take long for Bradley to start making comments on how Matthew Mcconaughey’s character is a jerk for being annoyed by his girlfriend’s purposeful attempts of sabotaging their relationship. ‘Baby I’d so let you name my dick Princess Sofia if you wanted to–I don’t get this guy’s problem with it. He’s mad for no reason,’ he said.

You didn’t have the heart to tell him that he’s most likely the only man on earth that would let that slide.

Bradley’s attention is momentarily pulled away from the movie dialogue, feeling you move your hands around to his stomach, playing with the pudge there. Bradley hadn't been on base recently, due to his ankle–so he hasn’t been keeping up with the extensive workouts that came with being an aviator either.

His abs were quickly replaced by a little pouch, which you loved. “Can I rub your back?” You ask, looking over his shoulder to see his reaction to the scene.

Bradley purses his lips, reading over the subtitles. “Is that why you’re tryna’ distract me with this?”

“Is it working?”

“Maybe.”

“So can I? Rub your back?” You ask again, pinching his belly, seeing that he’s fully absorbed with the movie's climax point now.

“Only for a few minutes...” he absently mumbles, not realizing how you easily coaxed him again. You let out a light laugh at the face he makes towards the screen, the two characters are currently in an intense argument, there’s a spout of harsh words being thrown back and forth—and it’s causing Bradley clear distress.

You tug at the hem of his white tee, and Bradley swiftly pulls the shirt over his head, giving you free range with his naked back. The piece of fabric is quickly forgotten on the floor as he reaches for the tablet again, eager to see what happens next.

You start by working out the knots located on his shoulder blades first. The way he instantly rolls back his shoulders, leaning into your touch, makes you smile.

He doesn’t notice how much time has passed. You’ve been kneading his back in sections for more than just a few minutes at this point.

“Not there. A little higher please.”

“Look who’s enjoying himself,” you tease, kissing over the spot you just rubbed your thumb over.

Bradley frowns, dropping the tablet as the credits begin to roll. He reaches behind him, peeling your hands off his shoulders, now aware of how long you’ve been massaging him. “You spoil me,” he lets out a breath.

He adjusts himself on the couch, so that he’s facing you now. Bradley wastes no time, reaching his hands under your shirt, swiping his calloused thumbs over your tummy. “Your turn,” he says, grinning down at you.

“Hey.” You squint at him. “You just want my shirt off.”

Bradley raises his eyebrows at you. “So you will take your shirt off?”

“I think the stache is okay now, honey.” Bradley tries to convince you again, making sure to not move his lips too much.

You’re perched onto the bathroom counter, with him standing between your legs—Bradley’s hands are playing with the waist band of your shorts while you trim his grown out facial hair.

After learning that his first day back to work is tomorrow, you were set on preparing him for the special day, as if he was going back to school–and not preparing to join in on a serious mission instead.

“I want it to be perfect,” you coo, trying to line up the scissors to his mustache again.

Bradley’s gaze drops down to the tongue that cutely sticks out your mouth, you’re razor focused. “Doesn’t have to be,” he lamely replies.

“Yes it does,” you pout. “Wanna make it look just like your dad’s,” you settle, looking back down at Bradley’s phone on the counter. You made him pull up a picture of his father, so you could replicate the shape of the mustache onto his face.

Bradley tries to match the smile his dad is sporting in the picture, hoping it’ll get you to see the resemblance in facial hair. He squeezes your hips with his large hands, wanting to hear approval from you.

“Nice try,” you detect his ploy with squinted eyes, grabbing his jaw.

“It looks fine to me,” he retorts, shifting his view to the mirror behind you, checking himself out.

You furrow your brows, noticing a stray hair you forgot to trim off. “Not yet.” You slip your fingers back into the scissors again, snipping off that one piece of hair.

He replicates his dad’s smile at you again. “How do I look now?”

“Pretty. Like a princess,” you answer, leaning in to kiss the tip of his nose.

Bradley can’t help but to crinkle his nose, you kiss him so softly that it tickles the skin there. “Thank you for doing this for me,” his eyes soften, voicing his appreciation for you.

“I could spend the rest of my life doing this for you, if you just asked me to,” you answer honestly, sweetly smiling at him.

Bradley just blinks at you in response. The rest of my life. The simple confession that slipped your mouth rings out in his head, making him feel dizzy.

You start to play with the hairs of his mustache, brushing your fingers over the little bristles there, unaware of how your statement made Bradley feel like he got shot by cupid’s arrow. “I packed lunch for you by the way baby. Make sure to grab it before you leave tomorrow,” you remind him.

“..Bradley?!” You’re alarmed—not by his silence—but by the way his skin suddenly flares up. He’s completely flushed all the way down to his neck, and his pupils are severely dilated.

You panic, pressing your cold palms against the red splotches of his cheeks, holding his face in your hands—desperately trying to cool down the hot skin. “Hello? Earth to babygirl?”

“What’s for lunch?”

Bradley unwillingly scoots over, making room for Hangman to squeeze himself between him and Bob. “Nothing for you, if that’s what you’re asking.” Bradley grunts, defensively moving his lunch away from the blond.

“What did she pack for you, babygirl?” The blond taunts, slapping a hand against Rooster’s back.

Irritated by Hangman’s use of your pet-name for him, Bradley briefly gives him a look, before returning to his food, bringing an outstretched hand over his lunch box, obstructing Jake’s view of his meal for today.

Natasha coughs in her cup, pulling it away from her face. “Babygirl…? I thought she called you princes—”

“Protein wrap and strawberries cut into hearts.” Bradley abruptly announces, shoving the largest strawberry he could find into Phoenix’s already open mouth, shutting her up.

She roughly swallows the massive piece of fruit, throat bobbing as it travels down to her stomach. “Hint taken,” she says through clenched teeth, elbowing Bradley’s side. But it doesn’t affect him at all, he barely moves at Phoenix’s rough jab.

Everyone else at the table starts to snicker amongst themselves, reminded by the pet name they overheard you call him in the car awhile back.

“I think it’s sweet,” Bob speaks up, coming to Rooster’s defense, patting his mouth down with a napkin.

Every pilot at the lunch table snap their heads to Bob, intrigued by his decision to join in on the conversation.

Bob clears his throat, trying his best to not mind everyone’s eyes on him. “It looks like she was careful enough to pack something healthy for him, plus it’s the correct portion size to fill someone of his stature too. My momma—she uh, always said making food for someone should be considered a love language in itself.” Rooster smiles at him appreciatively, in which Bob timidly returns the gesture.

This had to be the most the quiet pilot has ever contributed to a conversation, and it causes a stir amongst everyone having their lunch break. Bob’s shared perspective makes everybody think to themselves—When was the last time someone packed them a lunch?

The rowdy table of aviators has fallen quiet, until Hangman decides to speak up first.

“Hey so, you and your girl,” he starts. Across from him, Coyote is desperately trying to catch his best friend’s attention, making faces at him, begging him to stop his sentence there.

“Have you guys thought about havin' a third?”

At first, Rooster doesn’t react. He just absently looks ahead at Fanboy, who starts sweating bullets, as if he was the one who asked the question.

Everyone else at the table pretends to be busy, deciding to watch the scene unfold from the corner of their eye, silently chewing on their food.

It’s spine chilling—the way Bradley starts to slowly twist his head to face Hangman. For a second, Natasha expects his head to spin all the way around, like the girl from the seventies horror film, The Exorcist.

“If I wasn’t freshly healed, I would mash you into Payback’s potato salad to the point no one could detect what chunk is Jacob Seresin and what chunk is a piece of potato,” he warns, coldly—causing Payback to drop his fork at the imagery.

"..So that's a no."

"It's a no." Bradley reiterates.

“Now where did you find a girl like her?” the familiar voice fills his ears.

Bradley knows exactly who it is, smiling to himself as Maverick slips onto the bar stool besides him. “Not sure, but I sure feel lucky.”

“Two beers then?” Penny asks, seeing the two men wait together.

Maverick nods, smiling politely at her before looking over to where Rooster has been staring off at.

Across the bar, you’re laughing along with the rest of the team. Each person has a rose tucked behind their ears, which you individually placed. This is your first time meeting his team, and you wanted to make a good impression, bringing everyone a flower as a thank you for looking after Bradley when you’re not around. The scene makes Bradley’s chest warm.

“She reminds me of dad.” Bradley quietly confesses, recalling the times his father brought his mother flowers to show his love. Bradley might be a carbon copy of his father physically, but you act more like Goose in every other way.

If this was a couple years ago, this would’ve made Bradley feel sad. Back then, any mention or reminder of his parents made him itch in discomfort, it was a sore spot for him for awhile. But that was until you came into his life.

You were unlike anyone Bradley’s ever dated. At first you were shy about it, not wanting to scare him away with the unusual way you took care of your partners.

But after a while, he noticed that you began to buy him flowers at any occasion. You even made an effort to open the door for him instead, refusing to follow the rules of ladies first. And you insisted on driving the Bronco, convincing him that he deserves to be a passenger princess too.

Bradley came to a quick understanding that you weren't doing it to people please, no. You did it simply because you felt like it, it was effortless the way you loved him.

At first, it was strange for him, being looked after like that. Bradley wasn't used to receiving gentle treatment. But with time—he learned to love the dynamic of your relationship, because it reminded him of his parent’s marriage. You took care of him the way four year old Bradley remembered Goose took care of Carole.

“Maybe he sent her your way, kid.” Maverick smiles, seeing the resemblance as you hook Hangman under the flap of your arm, messing up his perfectly combed hair.

And to their surprise, Hangman lets you do it, smiling ear to ear as everyone laughs harder, holding onto their stomachs. “I’m never the best at advice but,” Maverick chuckles. “..you should consider putting a ring on that, she’s special.”

“I plan to.” Bradley confirms, reaching into his pocket, holding onto the fuzzy box, containing a engagement ring inside.

He could spend the rest of his life with you too.

gif credits

update- happy to announce that this blurb turned into a series, read more on babybear and bradley here.

thank you for reading, and as always-reblogs are greatly appreciated!

taglist: @pono-pura-vida @teaminator @alana4610 @angellwingsss @nataddz @deliriousfangirl61 @lonelysoul50 @bookchik26 @little-wiseone @blueoorchid

#bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw x y/n #bradley bradshaw fic #bradley bradshaw imagine #rooster x reader #rooster fanfic #bradley rooster x y/n #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #bradley 'rooster' bradshaw #bradley rooster x reader #bradley bradshaw fluff #rooster fluff #top gun rooster #top gun fic

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icycoldninja · 12 days

Note

Sorry for all the requesting 🥺😭 This is gonna get dark!

May I please request headcanons for the Sparda boys + V reacting to their female S/O being kidnapped and tortured over a long period of time and they have to deal with the physical and mental aftermath when she’s finally rescued?

Ay, it's no problem. Here ya go, and enjoy!

Sparda boys + V X Fem!Reader kidnapped and tortured headcannons

Warning: As the title implies, there is some dark content coming up with themes of torture involved. If you are uncomfortable with these themes, DNI!

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

¤ Dante ¤

-Oh boy. First it was his brother, and now his girlfriend? Whoever dared do this to you is in for a world of pain.

-He doesn't wait around long enough for the kidnapper to send him footage of what was being done to you; the moment he realizes you're in danger, he's hopped on his motorcycle and is looking towards your location which he discovered with his demon instincts.

-He finds you tied to a chair with barbed wire, bloodied, broken, and sobbing. While looking upon your battered and bruised figure, honestly feels like crying himself.

-Oh, his baby, his poor, poor baby. He loved you so much and never, ever, in his wildest dreams, would have wanted to see you hurt like this. He nearly Triggered right there and then, but he held himself back for your sake. He didn't want to terrify you any further than you were now.

-He got you out of that horrible place as fast as he could, his limbs shaking nearly as violently as you were when he carried you out of the kidnapper's hiding place.

-"Hey there, badass. You can relax now, it's all gonna be OK now that I'm here."

-The moment you guys returned to Devil May Cry, he fed you as many green orbs and Ibuprofen tablets as he could without overdosing you. He didn't want you to feel the pain anymore; he wanted you to be smiling and happy again.

-Once the medicine kicked in and you were comfortable enough to sleep, he held you. He refused to let go of you. He clutched you as tightly as he could, tears silently running down his face. How could he allow this to happen?! How could he let you get hurt like this? What kind of devil-hunter extraordinaire was he if he couldn't even protect the only woman in the world he ever truly cared about?

-He was going to spoil you with attention and affection even before you woke up. He wanted you to heal from this, and wanted to be the one to help you heal.

-You are so precious to him, and now he's going to show you just how much in any way he possibly can.

-Expect long, loving cuddles, big hugs every time you walk into a room, and words of affirmation whenever you look down.

-He'll also tenderly treat your wounds and wrap them himself, telling you how strong and brave you are to have survived all that pain every time he does so.

-This whole incident was a massive fright to him; now he's going to hold onto you so tightly, there's no way he could ever lose you again.

■ Vergil ■

-He is so, so, scared, but he refuses to show it. Vergil remembers what it was like to be brutally tortured at the hands of Mundus, so he is enraged and horrified when he finds out the same has been done to you.

-He can't stop himself--and won't. Whoever did this to you doesn't deserve that mercy. He Triggers, and sails away to find you, doing so in a sheer matter of minutes thanks to his demonic instincts.

-He bursts into your kidnappers' hideouts, roaring. He hears your anguished screams and flips into overdrive a second time, literally tearing through the walls as he frantically searched for you.

-The noise scared you, making you think it was the kidnappers returned to torment you further. However, when you saw the hulking, icy-blue devil crash through the wall, your fears were put to rest.

-The moment he saw your battered, torn form bound to a chair with barbed wires jutting into your flesh, he nearly blew up the building and all that was around it.

-There was so much anger coursing through his veins, you could feel it emanating from him, even as he gingerly undid your bonds and scooped you into his massive, scaly arms.

-"Do not cry anymore, Precious. The nightmare is over now. I am here. You are safe."

-He portaled you out of there with the Yamato and immediately took you to the hospital to get your wounds treated.

-He also refused to leave your side for any reason, insisting on staying and watching the doctors work, even if what they were doing was unsettling; he'd seen and been through much worse.

-The entire time, Vergil sat by your bedside, either staring at you intently, or holding your hand. He didn't want to let you go, and most certainly didn't want you to leave his sight.

-The moment you awoke, the first thing Vergil told you was that he loved you. He sounded out of character, considering this was something he rarely ever said aloud, but he was so afraid of losing you, and the PTSD of Mundus's torture was returning to him--he wanted you to have what he never did when he was recovering: comfort.

-He stayed by your side until you were discharged from the hospital, and after that, drove you home, only to wrap you in his arms and cuddle you till you both fell asleep.

-You both would undoubtedly be having nightmares about this for weeks, but for now, at least you were safe in Vergil's arms.

□ Nero □

-He found out what had happened to you in the worst way possible. He received a video from the kidnapper.

-It depicted the kidnapper, who wore a mask to obscure his face, using a crowbar to break your arms and legs while you were suspended by your arms from the ceiling.

-Nero lost it; his pseudo devil trigger Triggered and he was out the door in an instant.

-He doesn't possess the demonic tracking abilities of his father and uncle, unfortunately, but he manages to find you after a good half hour of searching.

-What he walks in on is disgusting. You're begging for mercy, sobbing and screaming under the pain your various broken limbs were causing you, all while your kidnapper laughed.

-Nero wanted to tie this motherfucker up and give him a taste of his own awful medicine, but he had bigger priorities: you.

-He freed you, shushing you when you screamed out in pain, promising he's gonna get you all patched up faster than you can think and that everything is gonna be ok.

-"You can rest now, baby, I gotcha."

-Once he takes you back to Devil May Cry, the entire Sparda clan and their friends are by your side in seconds, with Nero at the forefront. They heal your wounds in seconds and Dante makes corny jokes to lighten the mood.

-Then, they leave you and Nero alone to converse in private. It's a good thing they did, too, because almost as soon as the room was empty, Nero burst into tears, trapping you in a hug and sobbing into your shoulder.

-You ended up crying along with him; the two of you just bawling into each other's shoulders.

-Nero promised to never allow something like this to happen ever again, and spent the remainder of the night lying next to you with his arms and legs wrapped your you like a giant koala on a beat-up tree.

-You were very thankful for this because honestly, you didn't think you could survive this stressful, traumatizing night without having Nero snoring by your side.

● V ●

-V was texted a sickening video by an unknown number, and the moment he opened and watched, he collapsed.

-The kidnapper, standing offscreen, was repeatedly striking younin the face, chest, hips, and other areas with a spiked bat before kicking you in the stomach and shutting the camera--or whatever he used to film the video--off after releasing some unhinged laughter.

-V was terrified. He had no idea how to find you from this meager information, let alone save you.

-Still, he was determined to try, and so, gathering up his cane, he limped along, Shadow at his side and Griffon doing reconnaissance a few feet away.

-After some time, they found you, lying on the floor in an unbelievably deep pool of your own blood, yet still fully awake.

-V would have knelt there and cried, but he forced himself to swallow the tears and lift you to safety.

-Oh, Wanderer...what have they done to you?"

-He brought you to Devil May Cry and patched you up to the best of his abilities, using as many green orbs as he could get his hands on.

-Though your physical words may have been healed, your mental wounds were anything but.

-You were in so much shock, you were shaking from head to toe. V saw this and wished there was more he could do to help, but for now, he would hold your hands, kiss your cheeks, and rest his head in your lap while you told him anything and everything you needed to get off your chest.

-He read to you, too, his soothing voice doing wonders to ease your anxiety and calm you to a point where you could sleep.

-As V watched you slumber, he made a silent pact to always protect you, however he could, for as long as he could. He never wanted to see you go through something like this ever again.

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melswifeasf · 3 months

Text

Safest in your arms pt 10

previous chapter || next chapter || series page

Pairing: Georgia Miller x fem!oc

Summary: fall fest was supposed to be a fun activity for Samantha but it turned into nothing but a huge disappointment.

Warnings: (18+) MDNI, cursing, age gap relationship (18 and 30) grooming.

HALLOWEEN WAS THE BEST time of the year which all six friends could account for. they could dress slutty, get drunk and go to parties the whole weekend. it wasn't until their sophomore year they ditched the whole 'binge scary movies and stuff their faces with candy' deal and started going out instead. they had wanted to go to a party that night but none of them had planned a costume and Ellen had said she preferred her daughter to just go out on Saturday instead. Samantha didn't push it, it wasn't like her to do so.

the group of friends were in Matthews like most weekends. they were all sitting on the couch except for Natalie and Oliver who were on the floor like they had been last time they were there the last they were there. it was almost midnight and she thought by now she would be with a certain blonde but her friends were very persistent on her staying and she couldn't say no. even then that didn't stop her from texting her.

🍑 : are you gonna be at the festival

tomorrow?

S: prob? depends on if my friends

are going

S: are you?

🍑: i have to since Paul is running for

mayor again, he needs everyone in

the office with him.

S: does this mean Georgia Miller is

going to dress up?

🍑: i have to do that?

S: ofc you do, ur in the Mayors office

you kind of don't have a choice

🍑: does that mean your dressing up?

S: for the festival? no lmao.

S: i prob will later though, i think we're

going to some party

🍑: will i be able to see your costume?

S: i'll send pics;)

🍑: i'll be looking forward to it

🍑: what will your costume be?

S: idk tbh, we're all dressing up together

but they can't decide on what it should

whilst she waited for a response from the blonde she put her phone face down in her lap and turned her head to look at her friends. she was laying her head on Jades lap, her hair was being played with softly. Nia had Samanthas legs on her lap and Matthew was sitting beside the brunette with a respectable space between them. it was understandable that they wanted to keep things between them under wraps, especially considering they were still taking things slow and Oliver was overly protective when it came to Nia and her love life. she only ever had one boyfriend during her Junior year but it only last six months because Oliver would always try and scoot himself in between them. it wasn't fair, Nia never did that with him and Nat.

"i think we should go as nuns" Matthew said and looked up from his phone. they all laughed.

"the day i see you in a nun outfit will probably be the day that i die." Jade said with a chuckle.

"you putting that on would be an insult to nuns and i'm not even religious like that," Natalie said.

Matthew rolled his eyes, "okay i get it, i like sex." he shrugged. Samantha wondered if he was actually offended or if he was just acting like that because he always did. a part of her would believe he was offended, especially since the girl he currently had a thing with was sitting right beside him and listening to everything. although that shouldn't matter, Nia knew who Matthew was since the day they met and it's not like all of that knowledge would disappear now that they were figuring things out.

"more like you get around." Jade mumbled with a small chuckle making the girl in her lap slap her arm softly in warning.

"what about the avengers?" she proposed, trying her best to differ the conversation from him and to something else. "there's six of them so the numbers check out" she continued.

Oliver scrunched his nose, "i don't think any of us want to be hulk"

"or hawkeye" Nia mumbled.

Samantha sighed, "okay. any other ideas?" they had been going at it for a while now and it was starting to annoy everyone in the room. it was just hard, none of them wanted to pick something basic but there weren't that many group costumes, especially with six.

"we could all just wear purge masks" Natalie shrugged making both Samantha and Nia grimace.

"ew that's like super 2019. that is the most boring shit ever" she said shaking her head. Natalie sighed.

"okay then i don't know"

the room fell silent once more as they thought about more ideas. Matthew was on his phone searching for ideas but he seemed to be coming up with the same things over and over.

"what about toy story" Nia said making the raven girl point at her in agreement.

"i can be barbie. she's hot" she said earning a small smile from Jade.

"true." she agreed.

"holy shit," Oliver muttered making them all look at him in confusion. "Matthew and i could be Kens and you girls could be barbie." he proposed with a huge smile. that didn't sound like a bad idea at all, she doubted anyone else would think of doing that. it just surprised her that Oliver was the one to think about that over everyone else. she'd expect that from Nia or maybe even Jade but Oliver? that was something she never saw coming.

"why are you actually kind of a genius" Nia said matching her brothers grin.

"i think i'm more of a raquel though," Jade said, her lips twisted to the side as she was looking at the space in front of her in thought.

"i totally see that" Natalie nodded then gasped as she looked down at her boyfriend in excitement. "we could be Ken and Barbie from the Toy Story movie." she said happily.

Oliver's grin grew wider, "you're a genius babe" he said and the blonde shrugged sheepishly before she leaned down to press a soft kiss on the boys lips.

"i'll be howdy Ken," Matthew said, his lip curling into a smirk.

"valid, valid." Samantha nodded, "i never thought i'd see you in a cowboy costume and honestly i love that for you"

Nia frowned, "but then what would i be? i don't want to be in some horrid 80's work out jumpsuits" she said sadly.

"you could match with me" Matthew offered, his smirk gone and replaced with a small smile that everyone else in the room messed but Nia couldn't.

"yeah, you guys would look great." Natalie said to try and encourage her friend. they really needed to come to a conclusion so they could get the costumes the next morning.

"that just leaves you," Jade said looking down at Samantha.

"i'll be og barbie. you know, with the pink dress? god i'm gonna look so hot" she sighed out a bit dreamily causing them all to laugh.

"i sometimes forget how obsessed you are with yourself," Natalie chuckled.

"whatever, it's called self love." Samantha bit back and threw up her middle finger at everyone in the room.

they all started to talk about what they needed to buy which wasn't much since most of them already had clothes that could go with it. the only person who didn't was Natalie and Oliver because he needed a hawaiian shirt. Samantha figured her dad would have one though she offered to try and look for one for him. Samantha would just wear a pink dress that she already had and wear glittery eyeshadow along with pink heels to really seal the deal.

Samantha didn't feel her phone vibrate any more meaning Georgia hadn't texted her back. she tried not to overthink it, the blonde was probably asleep by now. it's not that she needed to talk to Georgia every minute of the day but the blonde had been a bit distant since the morning and she wondered if she did something wrong. the day that they hooked up Samantha and her stayed up another hour before the blonde grew tired and fell asleep, as soon as she did Samantha snuck out through the balcony. it was thankfully still slightly dark outside, the sun had just began to rise so it wasn't completely light outside. things were fine even the morning after, their dynamic didn't change but she was starting to wonder if the blonde had just now started to regret it, the reality of it all finally sinking in. the thought alone made her stomach hurt.

now that she knew what being with Georgia was like, life before her seemed so boring. nothing compared to the night they shared, the chemistry, the passion and overall it was just so fucking hot and every time she thought about it a light shade of pink would cross her features. her overthinking was cut short by Jade who locked her phone and threw it on the empty spot beside her.

"guess what i heard," she said a small smirk playing at her lips. everyone stopped to look at the girl, each of them just as confused, including Samantha who was looking at her with furrowed brows.

"what?" Oliver chuckled.

Jade looked down at Samantha, "Sophie Sanchez and your sister are talking." she said, her smirk never leaving.

"holy shit, are you for real?" Matthew laughed in slight amazement. Samantha didn't say anything as she waited for Jade to respond to him. there was no way Max was talking to someone - specifically someone she knew and wouldn't tell her. the thought alone hurt her feelings more than she thought it would.

Jade nodded, "yeah. i heard it from Kate. i think she even invited her to some party Brodie's throwing." she laughed and anyone who had common sense knew she was making fun of Max.

the raven haired girl didn't even care to comment on that. all she could think about was the fact that her sister was talking to someone and she didn't bother to loop her in. maybe she was a hypocrite considering she didn't tell the girl about her ex girlfriend but that was different, she couldn't tell Maxine because she knew it would ruin a lot of friendships and she didn't think it was fair for that to happen when all she wanted to do was to be happy. Maxine didn't have that problem, it's not like Samantha would get mad if she talked to Sophie. she just wished she was important enough in Maxs life to have been in the circle. maybe she was a shittier sister than she thought she was.

the girls mood had drastically changed and the only person who seemed to notice was Nia who began to rake her fingers through the girls hair. "you okay?" she asked softly, her eyebrows furrowed in worry.

Samantha shook her head as she tried to form a smile, "yeah." she whispered.

both of them knew she was lying.

the next day the group of friends all rode together to the festival. they had all gotten everything they needed for their costume and there was a while until they needed to get ready so they decided why not go. Natalie Oliver were still parking the car seeing as there wasn't any empty parking spaces so they dropped the four friends off before driving off to try and find a space. as soon as Nia and Jade saw that there was fresh apple cider they each broke away from Matthew and Samantha leaving them on their own. they were each waiting for the two girls near the face painting station where Samantha could clearly see her sister and her friends.

what she had heard yesterday was still fresh in her heart and seeing her sister only made it sting even more. she never thought she would be left in the shadows of her sisters life and yet here she was.

she wasn't the only one overthinking though. Matthew glanced at the shorter girl briefly, his heart was beating faster than usual which he had never felt before. why was he nervous? he only felt like this before games. he sighed, "can i ask you something?" he spoke up breaking Samanthas stare in her sisters direction and directing her sight toward him.

she had an idea of what he would be asking but nodded regardless, "what's up?"

"has Nia told you anything.. about us lately?" he asked a bit hesitantly, he paused to try and get the words out without seeming too n invested.

Samantha shook her head, "about what?" she asked feigning confusion. she didn't want to throw her friends under the bus like that, especially not with the literal guy she was crushing on.

Matthew looked at her with 'seriously' look on his face. "you're her best friend and she hasn't said anything? i don't believe you" he said and crossed his arms against his chest.

the raven girl rolled her eyes, "if you already knew the answer then why'd you ask."

Matthew shrugged, "i want you to be honest."

"she has."

"what did she say?" he quickly responded.

Samantha looked at him with raised brows, not at all used to seeing him this desperate. "just that you guys talked during Sophomore sleepover." she said honestly. they hadn't really spoken since and she assumed it was because they were taking things slow.

Matthew nodded, his face turning so he was looking in front of him and not directly at the shorter girl. "that's it?"

"did you want her to tell me something else?"

he shook his head. "i just.. i know she likes me and all but i don't know if she would want to actually go on a date with me." he said scratching the back of his neck nervously.

Samantha's expression softened, she now understood that it wasn't just one of his usual conquest, he actually care for Nia. "i think she'd say yes"

"really?" he asked his head snapped back toward the girl. she nodded with a gentle smile.

"yeah."

the boy couldn't contain his smile so he turned back around, "okay" he confirmed. neither of them could continue their conversation considering the sole topic of it was walking toward them with a cup in hand. she was laughing at something Jade had said and Samantha didn't miss the way the boys eyes shinned at the sight. she loved them together.

the brunette and Jade approached them, each holding a cup of cider. "want some?" Nia offered Samantha as she held her cup out but Samantha shook her head.

"im good. thanks though." she said earning a smile from the brunette as she went back to talking with Jade.

soon enough Oliver and Natalie were walking toward them hand in hand, once they were caught up with the group they walked around a bit to see what they could do. there were some activities which they participated in which really just means Oliver and Matthew would compete with one another. they spent half an hour carving a pumpkin which both looked equally as bad, none of them had the heart to tell them that though. that thankfully didn't last long since they all went toward the stage when they heard Paul begin to announce who had won the decoration competition. they all knew who the winner was even before so it was really pointless.

Samantha could see Georgia up on the stage, their eyes met for a second, each of them sharing a smile before the blonde turned to talk to her coworker. the six teens were in the crowd, half of them whispering to each other whilst Nia and Matthew were watching Samantha and the blonde exchange small glances.

"bootylicious really takes the whole costume thing seriously." Matthew said with a small smirk knowing the name he called her would annoy her.

he was right, the raven girl rolled her eyes at him. "shut up" she mumbled making both Nia and Matthew glance at one another in amusement. she looked so hopelessly in love and yet couldn't see that herself.

"best window decoration," Paul announced, a small card being pointed at him so he could read off of it. he was wearing a suit that was unbuttoned to reveal a super man costume, he was even wearing a black wig and glasses to complete the look. "goes to.. Liz Chavez" he finished earning an applause from the crowd. they watched as a trophy was brought up to Paul before her gave it away to the winner. "winner of best apple pie," Cynthia which isn't a surprise at all. "to the surprise of no one, goes to Cynthia Fuller." as they all expected. everyone began to clap once more but neither Samantha nor her friends did.

"bitch," Jade muttered under her breath making them all laugh.

"careful, the witch might hear." Matthew quickly whispered before turning back toward the front so they could watch the red head take a picture with the mayor. Samantha saw the small and cold interaction between her and Georgia when she grabbed the trophy from the blondes hand. that made a smile form on her lips, she loved that about Georgia. the camera snapped a quick picture and the redhead pulled away from the mayor and behind him on the stage.

"and now a very exciting announcement from the mayors office. we are going to be renovating the Wellsbury public library." cheers erupted from the crowd once more, even from the six teens who were glad they were finally going to do something different in the town.

not everyone had the same reaction though, Cynthia walked back up toward the front of the stage clearly upset with what she had just heard. "but the library is one of the most historic buildings." she said.

"exactly. this is why it deserves upkeep." Paul nodded. "we're gonna be adding a third floor. we are going—"

he was quickly interrupted by the red head who sounded even more upset, "upkeep? sounds like your plan is to depreciate a beloved landmark." she said in a condescending tone then reached over to snatch the mic causing it to make a slight squeaking sound making everyone cringe.

"fuck." Samantha muttered knowing whatever was going down wouldn't be good.

"what Wellsbury deserves is a mayor with a vested interest in preserving that standards in this town. i mean, first the drugs, now the library. where does it stop?" she said. cameras were snapping pictures repeatedly, each of them wanting the hot new story for the day.

"bitch needs to get laid," Nia joked earnings snickers from the group.

"someone get her a broom so she can fly away." Oliver added making his girlfriend shove him softly, not able to contain her amusement at his words.

"green gardens actually allowed us to have a surplus that far exceeds—"

"i saw Mayor Randolph last night on a date." she interrupted him, talking louder to drown his words out. murmurs erupted in the crowd causing her to nod, "yes. with his assistant" she confessed pointing at the blonde in accusation.

the crowd fell silent at her words just like Samantha felt her stomach drop, her before amused expression replaced with a blank expression. the three oblivious teens began to whisper their surprise whilst Nia and Matthew looked at their friend worriedly. they glanced at one another, each of them trying to have a silent conversation so try and figure out what to do.

Samantha's eyes locked with Georgia who looked nothing short of regretful but she quickly looked away, turning her attention to Paul making that horrible feeling in the pit of her stomach intensify. this was why she had been super distant they day before. she probably couldn't find the balls to tell her that she wanted to end things then. it shouldn't even matter, they aren't even together but that didn't take away the absolute pain she was feeling in her chest. was this what all of her one night stands felt when she didn't talk to them anymore? was this her karma?

she chuckled softly, her head shaking in disbelief. she felt stupid for ever thinking her and Georgia could be anything but a simple fuck.

"let's go." she said dryly, not even turning to look at her friends as she began to walk away from the crowd. not even Cynthia making a skeptical of herself could make her feel better and all she wanted was to get that horrible feeling out of her body and never have to talk to Georgia again. the pettiness of her words didn't matter to her, she didn't care that it had only been two months since they met, or that they only had sex once and that they never agreed to be exclusive. it was the fact that Georgia didn't tell her, the fact that she kept her in the dark and even texted her asking if she would be able to see her after she went to the halloween party because Ginny would be out til late. did she think she could just keep her little date a secret?

no, fuck her.

none of them questioned her as they walked to Oliver's car, at least not until they were actually in it. "why'd we leave? i wanted to get my face painted." Oliver said when he began to pull out of the parking space. his words earned him a slap in the back of his head from his sister who was sitting directly in the seat beside him.

"ouch, what the fuck?" he said his hand rubbing the impact to try and soothe the pain. Nia shot her brother a look through the rear view mirror which cause him to shut up a second later. Samantha wasn't paying attention to Jade and Natalie who looked extremely confused by the whole situation.

thankfully Matthew was the one who solved the problem which meant more to Samantha then she could ever really express. "Sam was having an attack." he lied. well, it wasn't a complete lie, she was having a sort of anxiety attack but it didn't have to do with the crowd around her.

"are you okay?" Jade asked quickly after, she turned her head to look at her friend with worried eyes.

Samantha nodded softly, "i'm good. i just didnt take my meds today." which also wasn't a lie. since she stayed the night at Matthews she didn't have her pills. she was planning on taking them before going to the party since she wasn't planning on drinking, the idea of driving to Georgias house drunk was incredibly irresponsible but that wasn't the case anymore and she was starting to regret it. in fact the only thing that could make her feel better at this point would be blacking out so she didn't have to think about her shitty love life. funny how she went from not having one just a month ago and now it was more complicated than ever.

#georgia miller x fem!reader #ginny and georgia #georgia miller #georgia miller x reader #ginny miller #maxine baker #marcus baker #lesbian #gxg #safest in your arms series

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howlingday · 7 months

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everyone has jaune as a paladin or a fighter, lets see jaune as a barb everyone is terrified of this tall tattooed wild man and they think he's kidnapped ruby... they were just talking about their hobbies why's everyone so mean to ruby's new friend? of course also give us an obligatory jaune rage moment

"There he is."

Weiss and Yang peered from their hiding place to match their view with Blake. Ahead, their abducted leader sat across the fire, trapped by the hulking beast with his eyes on her. She looked like she was about to cry. Yang-

"Wait." Blake held her hand against Yang's chest. "We can't just rush in. Ruby could get hurt."

"Not if I hurt him first." Yang growled.

"Yang, he was able to take Ruby on his own." Blake reasoned. "And with Ruby already taken hostage, we can't risk any harm coming to her."

"Or any further harm." Weiss added.

Yang was angry, but she couldn't just rush in and vent them out on the guy right in front of her. She hated it, but she didn't have a choice. So she sat and waited, watching as her sister wept in front of her.

---------------------------------------------------

"That's so sad." Ruby sniffled. "And you couldn't do anything to stop her?"

"Pyrrha was always the better fighter." Jaune sighed. "Even if I wanted to, she would've found a way to stop me from taking her place." He traced his fingers down his arm, his digits kissing the spear and shield tattoos decorating his fallen friend and lover. They seemed to glow at his tough.

"Are they... magical?" Ruby asked.

"In a way." He gently smiled. "It helps me connect with her spirit." He chuckled. "Even now, she's ready to protect me."

"Can... Can I touch them?" He nodded, and she carefully approached him. He may have seemed gentle and kind now, but his earlier abduction of her made their friendship a little tenuous. He held out his arm, and she drew close, tracing her delicate fingers as he did. There was a magic in these arms, and the catalyst for their power were these tattoos. "Why did you abduct me?"

"Because I know you were there." Jaune answered. "And I didn't want a friend of Pyrrha to meet the same fate as she did."

"What do you- Whoa!" Ruby fell backwards, slipping in the mud. Jaune caught her arm, and she winced. "Ow!"

"Oh, sorry," Jaune said as he reached a hand out to steady her, "are you oka-"

"GET YOUR HANDS OFF MY SISTER!" Ruby fell on her back as a familiar voice signaled an explosion in front of her. Yang threw a bomb at Jaune's face, likely hoping it would ony slightly injure her and fatally wound Jaune for some protective reason.

"Yang, don't-!"

The blonde bombshell rushed into the taller blond, swinging a hard fist into his face for good measure. Enraged, her eyes glowed red as she continued to strike her foe, unarmed save for the gauntlets covering her fists. There was a thundering crack, signaling that bone was broken.

"Ruby, are you okay?" Blake asked as she kneeled next to her leader.

"I'm fine," Ruby stood up, "but you guys need to stop attacking! Jaune's not our enemy!"

"Who's Jaune?" Weiss asked.

A scream pierced the air, drawing attention back to the mentioned barbarian. Holding Yang in place by a broken arm, what rage she felt died as she was made helpless by him. She couldn't pull away, the pain unbearable at every attenmpt to free herself.

"Yang!" Blake ran in, swing her ribboned blade in a wide circle before launching it at the assailant. As the blade neared, it harmlessly bounced off with a deafening gong. Where it struck, the barbarian's shield tattoo gave an ethereal glow. "How did..?"

"Blake, get back!" Weiss ran past, closing the distance between her teammate and their opponent.

She thrust forward, narrowly missing as Yang was released. Rather than retreat, however, the mountain of a man instead took hold of his longblade, readying it to engage Weiss' rapier. Again, his tattoos glowed.

"STOP!" Weiss and the barbarian lowered their weapons and took notice of Ruby. "Just... let me explain!"

---------------------------------------------------

"Geez! You could've told me that you were just looking out for her!"

"I couldn't," Jaune said as he healed Yang's arm with his aura, "you broke my jaw."

"Yeah, well, don't be so scary next time. Or kidnap people's little sisters. How would you feel?"

"I would probably do the same thing." Jaune nodded, wrapping a bandage over her arm. "Of course, I wouldn't punch them in the face."

"Guess I'm more of a risk-taker than you." Yang stuck her tongue out.

"Not to interrupt your stupidity, but why exactly did you... carry Ruby away?"

"I needed to get her alone." Jaune said, raising many eyebrows. "Uh, to get her away from anyone who might be listening to you guys. That's why I grabbed her and not her stuff."

"What did you want to tell us?" Blake asked.

Jaune opened his mouth to argue, but there was no point now. They really were a team. He held back tears as memories of JNPR came to mind. Swallowing his pride, he spoke his truth.

"Do not trust Ozpin."

#rwby #dnd #rwby dnd #barbarian jaune #jaune arc #ruby rose #yang xiao long #weiss schnee #blake belladonna

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jaylienpotter · 8 months

Text

Part 4 of Let them be | 1k words

> Part 3 | Part 5 (to come) <

Credit to @starsarestories for suggesting including Hagrid in marauders fics!

Let people want none

"Comin'!" With a loud creak, the wooden door opened wide. "Ah, Peter! What'cha doin' here? Come in!" Rubeus Hagrid was a half giant who was Hogwarts' gamekeeper. He was extremely sweet, despite his intimidating figure. He had guided Pettigrew and Potter on their first day there and they quickly warmed up to the hairy man. Peter went to his cabin from time to time.

"Hello Hagrid. I'm honestly hiding from my peers, you're a calmer presence so I came here. Hope that's alright?"

"O' course! Hungry?" The man infamous for his cooking skills. If Hagrid invited him for tea, he felt bad refusing, eating the rock hard pastries he made. The flavour wasn't bad. It was just hard to chew.

"No, thank you."

"Tea?"

"Yeah, alright. Thanks." He prepared the tea and sat opposite to the student.

"So. What'cha hidin' for? Did ye get into a fight?" No, but he had been further from starting one.

"No. It's just… It's James. He keeps messing with me, saying I fancy this person. But I don't! And it's really frustrating…"

"Ye told him that already?"

"I keep telling him Benjy and I are just friends- Benjy is the one I'm talking about. Benjamin Fenwick, Ravenclaw, a year above." Hagrid nodded once, maybe he knew Ben. Or he was just being polite. "But James doesn't believe me. Says I'm in bloody denial. But I don't like Benjy that way!"

"Yer just not gay, that's alrigh'. Ye can be close to a friend."

"It's not that… I never fancied anyone. At all. Girls or boys. Sybill liked me at one point and she's sweet and passionate and pretty but… I just don't feel it. Maybe I'm broken…"

"Nonsense! Yer so young, ye'll find the right person, don't worry boy." Wormtail exhaled after taking a sip from the hot wonky mug.

"You don't understand, I… I don't think I'm capable of feeling that, you know? Like… everyone is coupling now. James is head over heels for Evans as usual. I think she's gaining a liking for him, which will make him impossible to be with. Marlene and Dorcas are a couple. Oh, Remus and Sirius got together by the way."

"Ah, did they? Good for 'em. I think they make a good couple."

"Yes, finally. They're two oblivious idiots. But anyways. Everyone is all lovey-dovey and I just… don't get it? I don't see what's so special about being in love. If anything it seems annoying and disgusting. And everyone is expecting me to join in but I don't want to…"

"Then don't. Simple. Ye gotta learn not to fall under pressure, Peter." He did have a point. Saying 'no' was a very difficult task.

"But what if I never feel fulfilled?"

"Lemme tell ye a secret, Pete. Ya don't need a partner nor family to be happy. I'm happy and haven't had a girlfriend since my years at Hogwarts. It's just been me and my animals. It's enough for me. Some people, like James, need love to feel fulfilled but not everyone. Some people don't care about it or do not wish for it. One example is Professor Mcgonagall."

"She's never had a partner?"

"Not as far as I'm aware. She much rather have her space and doin' other things. An' that works. Maybe it's what works for ye too." His head of house was a brilliant witch. Tired, for sure, but who wouldn't be when you have the Marauders as your students?

"I see… Maybe you're right. But how do I tell people? Everyone will think I'm odd."

"Just say ye don' feel that attraction. Ye prefer friendship. Or don't say nothin'. Ye don't owe anyone explanations, yeah? Do what feels best for ye." Wormtail relaxed. He needed to hear it. That he wasn't broken. He wasn't the only one like that. And it was okay.

"Thanks, Hagrid. I'm glad I came to talk to you."

"Anytime. Always good to have som' company. Ye welcome to come over whenever, alright?" The boy smiled and nodded, finishing his tea and saying his goodbyes.

"You won't believe it! I got my hands on an Incredible Hulk! Can't wait to read it!" He might not have been a scholar like Remus. And big literacy books were boring to him. Comics, however? He owned a huge collection. Marvel was his favourite.

"That's great! You'll have to tell me about it when you finish." Benjy was the only one really willing to listen to him ramble about the things he liked. James read comics too, but it was hard to have a conversation about it, Prongs always ended up being the only one talking, too absorbed to notice he was cutting off Wormy. It wasn't his fault, yet it still made the short boy feel invisible. Not with Benjamin, though.

"You can read it afterwards, if you want. And then we can discuss it."

"Thanks but I prefer it when you explain it. You're cute when you're excited." Pettigrew wasn't stupid. He knew his friends were right when they said Fenwick fancied him. He would just rather pretend he didn't know. Pretend it's not true. Live in ignorant bliss.

"Oh, thanks. So uhm… Have you been drawing?" Ravenclaws were mostly known for their intelligence and academic values. What people often forgot was how it was also the House of creativity.

"Yeah, here and there." A comfortable pause followed, the mood shifted as soon as the silence broke. "Pete… Can I tell you something?" Oh no. No… No, please don't confess. Please. Everything was going so well…

"Sure, what's up?" His voice sounded casual, even though his stomach took a toll. If this was anything like what people described as 'butterflies in their stomach', Wormtail was glad he didn't feel attraction.

"You probably know this already- or you don't and are oblivious. But… I like you. As in I fancy you. Have been for a while." The Ravenclaw probably wasn't expecting that reaction. Maybe a rejection, an unsureness or if he got lucky, a kiss. Instead he was met with sadness. Pettigrew looked down, leg bouncing from anxiety. "Please say something…"

"I can't…" Voice broken, much how he felt inside. "I-I can't love like that… It's not-"

"'It's not you, it's me', heard that one."

"No, Benjy! Listen to me, please… I don't think I'm capable of having romantic feelings. I can't bring myself to be interested in any of those things. Kisses grosses me, couples annoy me, the whole societal norms in regards to love leave me bloody fuming! I don't know why I'm like this. I just really don't like that sappy stuff. It's not for me. And if I did like it and feel romantic attraction, I would've definitely dated you. It just doesn't feel right to be with anyone… I'm sorry for giving you any wrong signals…"

"It's okay. I thought there was something, sorry for misinterpreting our relationship." No, don't go!

"No! Benjy there is! Just because it's platonic doesn't mean it's not special! You're my best friend…"

"I… I thought it was the Marauders?"

"Well… James is sort of on your level. But you've been climbing your way up, I feel. Remus is a good friend and Sirius too but… Nothing compared to you. You make me feel loved, like I'm worth something."

"You're worth the whole world…"

"Then let's not change things… I'd really hate it if you stopped being my friend because of this…" No, go back inside! Bloody tears!

"Okay. If that's what you want, I'm happy to just be near you. We can keep our Wednesday tea dates. Platonically!" The small boy chuckled. Benjy was the best, he made everything better. Wormtail could always count on him.

"I'd like that." Ben opened his arms wide and Wormy walked there in baby steps until his head was against his friend's chest. He let himself be hugged, taken care of. "Are you mad?"

"At you? Never."

"I'm sorry for this. You're truly special, Ben."

"So are you. As a lover or a friend. So are you, Petey..." They stayed like that for a while. And then they carried as usual, their bond the same as before, if not stronger. Things hadn't gone the way Benjamin wanted them to, but the Marauder knew he got touched by being called a best friend. And Peter meant every word of it. Not loving romantically didn't mean not loving at all. Platonic love was just as important, just as intense, just as real.

#Can u tell its inspired by Heartstopper?#Isaac is my beloved #I already hc Wormtail as aroace bfr #But then Ravenrock came along #So this is a mix!#Hope you liked it hehe #peter pettigrew #benjy fenwick #rubeus hagrid #Hagrid #marauders fic #marauders #marauders era #the marauders #marauders fandom #harry potter marauders #dead gay wizards #aroace peter pettigrew #We stan Hagrid

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recreationalfanfics · 1 year

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Hi there, is it okay to request Yandere Loki, Thor and Buddha with Gender Neutral or Female Bruce Banner Reader, also known as the Hulk? Reader snaps and beats up Loki, calling him a ‘Puny God’ and throws hands with Thor (I can see Buddha safe from Reader’s Rampage since he’s actually been nice to Reader and just has to sing a lullaby to turn Reader back to normal)

You don’t have to do this if you don’t want to, I just think Loki getting his ass kicked quite funny (Buddha definitely would think so) while Thor’s just confused and aroused 💀

NO, I WANTED TO WRITE SOMETHING FOR THIS BUT I COULD NOT BUT HERE ARE MY THOUGHTS. THIS IS A SLIGHTLY MORE SUGGESTIVE POST (NOTHING TOO BAD).

Okay so you're brought in to represent humanity and Brunhilde knows that you're about to hulk out and she just keeps it a secret. SO LET'S SAY YOU FACE OFF AGAINST LOKI BECAUSE HE'S A LITTLE INSTIGATOR AND HE TAUNTS YOU AND YOU JUST HULK OUT AND EVERYONE IS GOING: WHAT THE HELL- and Brunhilde is internally laughing because she has never seen anyone wipe the smile of Loki's face as fast as you did. Nor has she seen anyone literally wipe the floor with him as fast as you did.

This unknowingly brings three gods to become enamored with you:

The first one is surprisingly Loki himself, this man is a masochist as much as he is a sadist and while he absolutely was not expecting that, he just stares at you with deranged eyes filled with adoration because no mortal has EVER managed to do that to him before and he loved it. He will taunt you as both the monster and the scientist, trying to provoke you but you know he's got some sick desire to see you use your strength against him so you try not to let him get to you. Please, you brought out the bottom in him because now he's practically willing to do anything just so you could call him a "Puny God" again and grab him with your strong arms like he's absolutely no match for you <3. He's gonna be a harmless yandere with a Hulk! Darling because, yeah he's really creepy but he likes the way you hate him, the way only he is able to anger you, and loves the fact that below your shy and timid persona there's a monster just waiting to destroy everything underneath. The thought is so exciting to him!!

I honestly think that Thor was like: "Oh, wow, Loki's gonna beat them up" but then you turn into a monster and he's like: "WOAH, LET'S FUCKING GOOOOOO-" In fact, I might even go as far as to say that you don't even charge at Thor at first, Thor gets in the middle between you and Loki because he knows his cousin doesn't deserve to fight with something as powerful and dangerous as you, he does! So yeah he and Loki definitely fight about his interference but you unleash your rage on him and he loves it. Yes, he likes using his hammer but he enjoys how your strength is enough to power even a God. He falls in love with every punch and hit and yeah, no, he'd def be aroused. When the fight is over and you go back to your human form, he does appreciate how gentle and soft you are. Both brains and brawn put in one human, he absolutely can't get enough of you. He's not as creepy as Loki but he's still rather creepy, he watches as Loki antagonizes you again specifically so he can watch you Hulk out and have another exciting fight with you again. But also, like he'll chase Loki off when you're human just to follow you like a lost puppy. If you're in your lab and working on something and need something but you can't reach it, he scares you because his hand grabs it and he hands it to you and you're there like: "How did you get inside here- How did I not notice you." and he shrugs but asks if you either want to sleep with him or fight him and you're just baffled.

NO BUDDHA HAS AN ADVANTAGE BECAUSE THE OTHER TWO JUST MAKE HIM SEEM NORMAL AND TOTALLY HIDE HIS OWN YANDERE TENDENCIES FOR YOU. But yeah no, he also met you as a human first so he has an appreciation for you and your Hulk side. ALSO NOT GONNA LIE, THE LULLABY IDEA IS SO SWEET. Like, of course he let's you rock Loki's shit first but then you turn you attention to the audience and that's when he interferes, appearing in front of you and being all: "Hey, pretty girl. Remember me?" and you kinda stop and he takes your hand and puts in his own and you focus on it before you slowly return back to your human form. When you panic, he holds you and tells you that he stopped you before you could hurt anyone and comforts you. Buddha will teach you how to calm yourself in your anger but he also definitely uses it to spend more private time with you and keep those pesky Norse gods away from you. He will suggest doing calming stretches but of course, he'll stand right behind you with his hands on you to guide your movements. He also likes the idea of being the only one who can calm you down, if someone else is able to do it, he'll make sure that he ruins their relationship with you. He loves you and your hulk self and he also has you wrapped around his finger because as a human, you're so easily flustered and charmed by him and he knows that you check him out and as the Hulk, you are careful to never harm him in your rampages.

#Yandere Record of Ragnarok x reader #yandere loki ror #yandere thor ror #yandere buddha ror #yandere x reader #loki x reader ror #Thor x reader ror #Buddha x reader ror #NO ANON BC UR LITERALLY SO BIGBRAINED FOR THIS OH MY GOD-

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hearteyes-for-killmonger · 7 months

Text

Pranking Miguel

You thought stealing his serum would be a good idea. You were very wrong.

Idea: @theegoldenchild

Last one of the night you guys!!!! How y'all doing? Thanks for hanging with me this month 💕

Tags: Anger-bang, dominance, watersports

"SOMEBODY GRAB THAT NIGGA," you shout, barreling by a grouping of Spidermen. "GET HIM!" You're zooming at your top speed through the halls of Spider Society HQ. "Oh my God. He's gonna kill me."

Miguel is on your ASS, tearing through like a beast in pursuit. He's PISSED.

"GET THE HELL OFF ME," he growls, palming two foreheads and crashing them together.

You hear bodies thrown and shit breaking behind you, but you don't look back.

You hear him grunting. People drag from his ankles and throw themselves around his waist to stop him, but if 30 or so Spiderpeople can't tackle, stop, contain him, or AT LEAST slow him down, you can't afford to look.

"GET BACK HERE," he yells after you. He almost claws into the back of your suit.

You feel that touch in the middle of your back and find a new gear, hyperspeed!

"STOP RUNNING!"

"STOP CHASING ME!"

You're too afraid to stop. He didn't see his own fuckin face morph like a gotdamn vampire demon. WHY were his eyes so red?! WHERE did he get fangs and claws?! WHY WAS HE SO ANGRY?!?!

"GET THE FUCK BACK HERE," he grits, chillingly.

All you hear is If you stop, you're dead.

Stealing his serum as a prank seemed like a good idea at the time. You'd laughed with Miles, Gwen, Peter, Hobie, and Pavitr about it. Now, where were they? Stuck in holding cells like the anomalies. He only got madder and madder like he was sick or going Hulk.

"AHhhHHhh," someone yelps before you hear another crash.

"Dear God, SOMEONE GET HIM," you scream. Fearful of stopping, you ditch the serum and keep running.

"DAMMIT! You little-"

You don't stick around. You turn the corner, locking yourself in one of the labs to collapse and breathe. Your chest heaves because it's the fastest you've run in your life. Thankfully, he's not behind you. When you catch your breath and open the door, he's not there. You calmly make your way back, finding an HQ full of Spiderpeople but no Miguel.

He took that serum with him though, fuckin druggie.

"He is the most cracked out Spiderman I've ever met," you complain, freeing the others from their cubes. "You'd think it was insulin or an epipen. No, it's freaking drugs. May as well be crack."

Miles sighs. "I didn't think he'd get that mad."

All of you were surprised.

"He's probably embarrassed," Gwen says after a beat, "Someone should probably check in on him."

Silence.

You all look at each other, waiting on someone else to volunteer.

"What about Jessica," you suggest. She's like the pet to his teacher.

"It should be one of us, someone who was behind the prank."

"I vote you," you stare, since Gwen seems to know who ought to go. She glares back.

"Technically, it was your idea," Pavitr says, looking at you.

"Shutup, Pavitr."

"Show of hands, who says Dawn should go," Peter blurts, raising his hand. Everyone but Hobie raises their hand.

"Personally, I dun think we've done anythin' wrung."

Silently, you thank Hobie for having your back. Still, the majority has spoken and continues to push.

"Ugh, fine."

You don't want to, but you go where you know he is hiding, in his office.

"Miguel?"

"What do you want," he sneers, not even looking at you. He's delved into working on yet another gadget. Work, work, work. It's freaking Halloween!

"Why are you SO mad? It was a joke."

"No! It isn't a joke. As it so happens, I need that serum, and guess what? It's expensive as hell. Alchemax is already having trouble keeping it in stock. I don't have the money to replace it."

"Okay, well, I gave it back. It was a prank, grouchy. What was all that creepy shit? You were on demon time."

"Oh, you don't know?" He crosses his arms. "It's called a MUTATION. It happens when you get hit by a radioactive spider."

"No, THAT shit ain't normal. THAT shit was giving exorcist."

"I'm done with this conversation," he turns. "I can't keep allowing myself to be interrupted by an immature brat who thinks medical theft is a prank."

"Brat!?" You stare at the back of his head.. Maybe so... "Well, you are the ANGRIEST, CRABBIEST Spiderman I'VE ever met."

"And you're the laziest and most immature. Are we done?"

"NO," you approach. "I'll tell you when I'm done."

He ignores you, set on making the arm cuffs he's been working on electrify the webbing. Even you can see that his mind is distracted because YOU could make it work given a good 15 minutes.

"You're so jealous of Miles," you blurt, causing him to cease his tinkering.

"Ex-cuse me???"

"Miles has lightening," you say like it's a no brainer. "You don't, and he's also too fast for you." You didn't stutter.

He turns around slowly, walking closer and towering menacingly over you.

"You know, you ought to tread carefully because that neutralizing cube? I left one specifically for you."

"Ohhh, I'm SO afraid of the cube. You'd better HOPE I don't put YOU in a cube. Stupid ass cubes..." You knock over a hunk of junk that he calls a creation. It's easy to rebuild, 5 minutes, but it's the principle. He'll have to do it over is the point.

He hems you up like you knew would happen.

"Do you get off on antagonizing me?! Is that it?"

"Maybe," you admit, watching his face turn to stone.

"I will tell you this once and once only. I do not LIKE games. I do not LIKE you. Leave me alone now, before I MAKE you."

He releases his grip on the front of your top.

"Looks like you're gonna have to make me," you tease, fixing the wrinkles flat. You nearly yelp as he lifts you by the neck and pins you to the nearest wall by your throat.

"Don't.. Test me."

Submissiveness flashes in your eyes as you grip his thick wrist so as not to choke. This rage filled Miguel is kinda sexy... violent and hateful, but attractive. "Look at you channeling the Hulk."

He leans in closer to your face, staring down, his glare cold and sharp.

"You really enjoy this, don't you?"

You bite your lip, intrigued by his boxy dark brows and darkened features. "Maybe..."

He scoffs. "You don't enjoy it, maybe. You crave the abuse, don't you? Look at you squeezing your thighs together. You enjoy it too much."

You're already folding, clinging for more with a deep sigh that you don't have it in you to communicate. You have too much pride to say you want to be slutted out, but you're thinking it and hoping.

"You little vulgar animal."

'I am. It's me,' you think. You don't resist when he brings you down to your knees by the neck and gets out his dick with the rosy tip, shoving it into your mouth.

"That alone is enough for me to know how to use you." His hand palms the back of your head as he uses your mouth like a toy, hearing you slurp and gurgle. "This what you wanted? You feel like a slut yet? Come here," he pulls back with a controlled smack against your cheek.

He pulls you up by the hair, watching you assist by climbing up to your feet. He tosses you over the high-tech work table triggering a hologram, which he instantly disengages.

Was that Spider Byte? Did she just see y'all? It was only a second, but still. Can't NOBODY know this shit. You're ready to lock the door now before some bullshit like the Spider & Spider Mystery Agency busting in happens, but Miguel has already found a path past your mom jeans and bikini briefs. He's been busy back behind that wagon.

When the backshots begin, you can feel how much you be pissing him off by how tight he has your arms pinned behind your back with no mercy on his stroke, just straight dick ravishing your insides. No protection, no warnings, no warm-up.

"Fuck yeah," you moan taking it all like the good girl you're being forced to be.

"Yeah? This what you want?"

"Yeah," you mewl, your cheek pressed to the cold surface as you let yourself be used.

When he pauses, it's to spread your cheeks and spit between them on your ass letting it drip down to his dick to add lubrication, not that you aren't wet enough. He fucks you just like that with an asscheek spread in each hand before releasing them with a quick smack.

You feel a sudden urge to pee, not squirt, pee. You start to push away, but he grabs you, thinking you're trying to run. Fuck it. It feels too good to stop.

His next grip is your hair. You grip the edge of the table, being shaken by his simultaneous pulling and thrusting as he delivers jolting strokes you feel in your stomach.

"Fuck," you pronounce sharply, drizzling onto the table, your thighs and him.

"What was that?" He stops completely. It was warm and too much for a simple squirt. "What the- Did you just pee?"

"It snuck up on me. It felt too good to stop, and I couldn't hold it."

"...How old are you???"

"Come on!" You keep your position having already done it. There isn't any going back now.

He steps back to think about wtf just happened.

"You nasty, nasty, NASTY little-" He sighs, hesitating. "The hell with it." He steps forward again, sliding back in to finish the job leaving you completed over the table. "Now get yourself cleaned up and get the hell out of my office," he growls, dismissing you with a slap on the ass.

You look at the mess you left.

"I should probably clean that up first."

"Just GO," he points to the door. "If anyone asks, you were just apologizing to me in detail for that show of stupidity you call a prank."

"That's not technically a lie," you admit, changing quickly into the Spiderwoman suit you always have on you. It came in handy BIG.

"How'd it go," Hobie asks as soon as you walk out. You flinch, already guilty. He starts sniffing around you, so you put distance between the two of you.

"Pretty well, I guess. He was mad... Very mad. Yeah, he hated everything, BUT we worked it out."

"Hm."

Hm? What Hm? You feel like you're getting paranoid, but you don't wanna ask or say too much, or you'll look guiltier.

"Well, ya might wanna stop by Spider Byte's station, yeah? I'd be quick."

"Uh, yeah. Sure." You do not pass go. You just get there, and nothing seems wrong initially. Everyone else is normal. No one's acting weird.

"So," you fold your arms on her tech station.

"So," she deadpans.

You don't know what you're supposed to say to her exactly. You drum in quick 3-count and step back. "Anything going on?"

"Nope. Something I should know about?"

"Eh, guess not." Smirking, you start to walk away.

"I knew y'all had to have something going on, all that fighting."

"I knew it, you piss ant. How much to keep you quiet?"

"You think I'd blackmail you?" She clutches her pearls. "Gross. I barely saw anything, thank God."

You sigh in relief.

"I did see enough... Replacing my headphones could make it alllll go away."

"How much," you glare.

"I paid $300, so you pay..??"

"$400." You wire it to her on the spot, and she checks for it, having received it.

"What were we talking about??? Hey, how are you today! Happy Halloween!"

You have a sarcastic smirk in your eye. The price of being seen with Mr. Demon Hulk. You'd say never again, but that's a lie. Pissing him off has been a rush, and now that you know you can get under his skin, you're gonna do it.

... You need a shower now.

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