#i always forget to add this tag first

[finn0cchio]

everyone makes mistakes. Sometimes you spill water, sometimes you break a plate, sometimes you kill someone with lightning. It happened to the best of us

Every time i draw something zukaang related i think "let's see what Tumblr thinks of this one".

[be-an-echo]

Merry Christmas guyyyss🎄

[foxaoxarts]

BEE KISS TOMORR- *dead* /j

If anyone wants to watch me drawing this like a little victorian child then the timelapse is below the cut 🤣

(FLICKER WARNING. It's all through out so be careful!👍 )

[pnutsdotorg]

SHRIMP EATING FREAK CAUGHT ON FILM

[indulgnc]

welcome 2 my kink blog! N, he/him, 20, queer.

18+ ONLY!!!!

sorry if i rb ur same posts multiple times i have memory issues. <3

∩^ω^∩

STUFF IM INTO: sneezing (!), medical stuff, t4t, forcemasc, s/m, bondage, whump, crying, praise, degradation, intox (mostly weed), nonhuman/robots, blood <3, etc etc…

i will do my best to tag anything unsan/violent. please feel free 2 ask for anything tagged!

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

YES: dms, flirting, asks/anons, ocs (*´꒳`*)

NEUTRAL: emeto, omo, tickling, somno, pet play (in the trans way).. ask abt kinks not listed, im flexible! (^_−)−☆

NO: minors,inc*st or fauxc*st _:(´ཀ`」 ∠):

[bitterlyromantic]

miku !

[albatmobile]

The Art of Rehabilitating Snowbirds Chapter 5

𓅪 After not hearing from Roy or Jason for five years, you suddenly find yourself taking in extra income as a babysitter for Roy and Jason's child.

𓅪 Rated: M | TW: attempted assault  | 9k  includes: Damian helping u apply sunscreen before the angst, dinner w babs and Steph where they give u the inside info on past batboy feelings for u, Red Hood saves u from thugs, u wear Roy’s clothes

fem!Reader x Jason Todd x Roy Harper [masterlist]

Chapter Five: Lost in Translation | ao3 - wattpad

Damian ends up whisking you and Jon away on a yachting adventure, insisting you need to get out more. At first, you're offended, that is until you realize holding your tongue means going out of state on a yacht. Suddenly all previous offense dissipates.

Damian reminds you for the second time that, even though it's out of state, it's only a fifteen-minute drive. Whatever. It just sounds fancier. 

You’re only holding your tongue just this one time though, so Damian better not get used to it.

This is how you end up in Happy Harbor in the middle of the week, lounging on the top deck in the hot tub with Damian. Jon disappeared somewhere inside to get you guys drinks and check out the food, but he comes back soon after.

“Do you need sunblock?” You ask Damian, noticing his shoulders turning pink under the direct glare of the sun's 80-degree rays. He's about to open his mouth, probably to tell you to fuck off, but you know he'll thank you later, “You need sunblock. Come here.”

“No,” He spits out your name, dodging whichever way you move in the water all while avoiding your sunscreen-covered palms. “I don’t even burn,” he insists quickly when you get particularly close.

“Everyone burns, dumbass,” you leap forward to tackle him into submission, though you know he must’ve partially let you. With Damian subdued, you waste no time in spreading the cream across his burning, tanned shoulders. 

He eventually relaxes into your touch, even going as far as hopping up onto the ledge to give you better access to the rest of his upper body. Though, this new position now means you're eye level with his crotch. He doesn’t bother with fussing; he just stays still enough for you to rub it along the ripples of his muscular chest and back, making you wish you’d never offered. 

This ended up being a lot more than you bargained for.

It’s only as you reach the waistband of his trunks that he places a dark hand over yours. “This is where I draw the line,” he smirks and swiftly hops out of the hot tub to avoid you trying, keyword trying, to put sunscreen on his face. “I think you’ll need it more than I do.” 

You look down to see that you do indeed appear rosier than usual, though you’re not entirely sure it’s just from the sun. 

“Okay, so put some on me then,” you shrug nonchalantly. At least, you hope it looked nonchalant… You aren’t trying to let him know just how riled up you were after, essentially, feeling him up.

“Ew, gross,” Damian wrinkles his nose in disgust. “I don’t want to catch anything you’ve got.”

Your jaw drops, “But I just did it for you!”

“That’s because you wanted to.” He looks way too proud of himself. Way too proud. 

From where you stand, you can tell he’s definitely flexing his abs right now on purpose.

You roll your eyes at his arrogant display and push the bottle of sunscreen into his hands. You hop out of the tub and make your way over to the lounge chairs together, but he just pushes it right back at you.

“Just put this shit on my back, dude,” you huff in annoyance. “You may not care about burning out here, but I do.”

Instead of helping (because when has Damian ever been considered helpful?), he mocks you in a high-pitched voice, "Dude.”

Seriously?

Okay, well, two can play this game, Wayne.

“Aw, cute! That’s exactly how you sounded when I first met you,” you imitate freshman Damian saying your name but highly exaggerate the pitch just to piss him off.

“Did not.”

It worked.

“Did, too.” 

He aggressively snatches the bottle from your hand. “You know, for someone who doesn’t want to burn, it sure sounds like you want to burn,” he dangles the sunscreen like he’s going to drop it on top of your head, but you don’t give him the reaction he wants, so he eventually huffs and pops open the cap. 

You grin, dangling your victory obnoxiously in his face as you roll over onto your stomach to give him better access to your back. There's really no reason to, considering the string bikini you're wearing grants him any access he'll need, seeing as it doesn’t cover a whole lot of you in the first place.

“Damn, you’re so aggressive with it,” you whine as he digs in. Yes, digs into your skin to apply the cream. He seems to think that the sunscreen needs to be applied with a certain psi to be effective with the way his hands continue to push into your skin. “Please never become a masseuse,” you joke, but he significantly lightens his touch as he makes his way down to your lower back. You quietly exhale in relief. 

“I hire masseuses. Why would I become one?” His voice sounds slightly restrained.

“To give me free massages?” You state the obvious with a smirk thrown over your shoulder at him, not that he's looking at your face, though you note a twinge of amusement. 

“Seems like that's already a benefit of yours,” his fingertips lightly trail down to where your back meets the top string of your bottoms and stops abruptly. “I’m not touching your ass. Nice try, though.”

You laugh, grabbing the bottle from his hands to lather it on your backside while he watches. “Still looking at it, though,” you wink at him, reveling in how he bristles as he walks over to claim the lounge chair across from your own. 

“Hard not to when it’s that fat,” he curls his face into disgust as he puts on his sunglasses. “Might even be bigger than Nightwing’s.” 

“Enough with the compliments, Damian. You’re making me blush,” you tease him, kicking your legs up behind you like a girl writing in her diary. “Makin’ a girl feel all special ’n shit.” You flip over with a whine, “Also, you've never talked comics with me before. What’s up with that?”

“They’re for lame losers like you. Besides, I’ve never picked one up, but I do watch the news,” he reaches over and clicks a button on the side table. Almost immediately, two stewardesses bring out towels along with some sort of infused water for Damian and quickly leave without a word. You make a weird face. “What?” 

“You didn’t tell me it was chartered.”

“What do I look like? Someone with an unchartered yacht. Please,” he rolls his eyes from the lounge chair across from yours and tilts his Bottega Veneta sunglasses further up on his face. “Why do you keep looking constipated like that?”

“Nothing. Sometimes I forget you’re super fucking rich.” 

Not even in your wildest imagination could you have pictured yourself on a yacht with people to cater to your every frivolous whim. If anything, the most you’d hoped for was a full fridge and a normal family, but Damian’s wild experiences will suffice for now.

It just seems too unrealistic for someone like you to be able to enjoy crazy indulgences like this, especially when these same experiences don’t seem to affect Damian in the slightest.

“I don’t think I ever ended up hearing about how your meeting with Roy and Jason went,” Jon says, walking towards you and Damian with a tray of fresh drinks from the inside bar. Jon and you both felt very weird about the whole service thing, so you understand why he’d just want to serve himself. “Damian mentioned that you seemed a bit nervous.” 

You laugh. That's a complete understatement. 

“It went alright. Kid’s cute,” Damian tch’s at that. “What? She is! And Roy, well, he’s missing a hand since the last time I saw him, so there’s that.” 

You wonder if Damian will correct you. You wonder if he'll tell you that the prosthetic was also further up his arm, but he doesn’t and you're left to wonder just how much of his arm is actually gone.

“I told you he’s changed,” Damian’s face reads: ‘I told you so' clear as day. 

“Yeah, no fucking kidding. I still don’t understand why you couldn’t’ve given me a heads up buuut,” you sit up straighter to visually demonstrate to them how his prosthetic hand looked. “It was all black and like, had this like shooty thing right here,” you point to the top of your hand. “Or, well, it kinda looked like it, but I doubt that. Right?” Jon nods as if he has any idea what you're talking about. You appreciate his enthusiasm, nonetheless. “But he seemed pretty much the same other than that. Still hot as ever, though, obviously,” you waggle your eyebrows at Jon, mainly because Damian seems content ignoring the two of you ever since the topic had been broached. 

“Whatever,” Damian sips petulantly at his drink. It isn’t until Jon asks to see a picture that Damian sighs in annoyance. “Don’t let her pull into her smut, Jon. I’m more attractive than both of them combined, easily. Right?” He imitates your tone from earlier. 

You and Jon giggle at the jealousy in his tone as you show him pictures of Jason, Roy and you from high school. 

“You’ve always been really pretty.” He points at you in a picture taken while the three of you had been arguing at in the manor library. “But, yeah, I’d be hot and bothered too,” he says, pretending to fan himself at the sight of Roy and Jason. “Jeesh!”

“Shut up,” Damian slams his drink down on the side table next to him, removing his sunglasses with sharp malice. “Enough about those two dimwits already.” 

It’s silent after that. 

The waves lapping up the sides of the ship and the seagull's chatter serve as reminders of the resulting awkwardness now in place of the lively conversations which had previously masked them.

“It’s not that serious-” You attempt to give him an out and get the jovial atmosphere back but it seems he doesn’t care. “Damian, are you being for real?” His face leaves no room for debate. “Okay, fine. We’ll stop.” You try calming him down before he can really go off, but it seems it’s already too late. 

From the slight twitch of his eye and the telltale sign of his neck vein popping out, you have a very upset Damian Wayne on your hands. Well, you turn to Jon in alarm, the two of you have a very upset Damian Wayne on your hands.

You think he’ll remain quiet, content to glare at you for the rest of however long his pissy-fit lasts, but no. The combination of the hot sun coupled with too many drinks leaves Damian’s usual short temper even shorter.

“We get it,” Damian sits up, menacingly facing you from across the short distance of the deck as if you hadn’t even spoken. “You’re a desperate wannabe who clings onto unavailable people. Truly pathetic and completely high school, if you ask me.”

You don’t even know what to say.

Where was all of this coming from?

Jon seems to, for lack of better words, be in the same boat.

“Woah, Damian,” Jon searches Damian’s purposefully blank face as defends you from the uncalled-for outburst. “She’s your friend. Why are you acting like this?”

You’re still stuptefied by his abrupt hostility. You try to retrace your steps, seeing where the conversation had gone awry, but came up blank. All you’d talked about was Roy and Jason for not even a second… Wait. 

Was he really telling you to shut up over talking about them?

You think back to high school, when he never seemed to upset when you talked about them aside from a few eye-rolls and such, but now it’s like a completely taboo topic for Damian.

“She used to be my best friend.” It comes out cold and uninterested as if he’s completely over the conversation and you.

“Used to?” You finally spoke with a soft voice, barely audible above the overlapping waves against the boat. 

You’d done nothing but be at his side endlessly. You thought you understood him when no one else had, just as he’d done for you. So, why was he saying this?

Ever since Jason and Roy came back into the picture, it was like you could see flashes of the old Damian. The one who was always fighting for your attention over his brothers. It had always been comical to you, considering Damian had always had your undivided attention whether he realized it or not. 

“Like you haven’t noticed,” Damian motions to Jon, who doesn’t seem to know what to do with himself, but, then again, neither do you. You’ve never been on the wrong side of Damian’s ire like you are right now. 

“Damian, what did I do?” You can’t help the genuine hurt and confusion that drips from your every word, pleading with him to stop, “I’ve only been talking to them for a few days, so how could you already be replacing me?”

“Maybe I knew they’d be coming back and prepared myself,” he responds cryptically. If you weren’t already so upset, you'd probably roll your eyes at the blatant lie. 

You look at Jon, but he still seems just as baffled, “He’s been like this ever since the day after we painted.” 

It doesn’t take long to connect that what you thought was going on, was going on. 

The day after the penthouse party is when you’d gone over to dump about your Jason and Roy problems. Now, today he’s blowing up after you showed Jon an old picture. 

It's clear as day to everyone but Damian, it seems.

Why he's jealous of your complicated relationship with them, you have no idea.

“You’re so jealous, Damian. It’s really cute.” You attempt to cover up your hurt with nonchalance, giving him another chance to calm down.

He doesn’t take it. 

“Jealous? Me? Please,” Damian scoffs and tilts his head in just a way that causes his sunglasses to reflect a ray of the sun directly into your eye. This leaves you to dodge out of its way by lying back down. “Let’s not forget that you’re on my yacht,” He curses your last name. “Would you like a one-way ticket off of it?” 

“Would I be able to stay dry?” You ask tonelessly as you adjust your navy bikini top. You really hope whatever steam Damian’s letting off is almost out because you're running out of patience. 

It doesn’t help you're all quite literally trapped in the middle of the ocean on a boat together, either.

“What do you think?” He snarls.

“Whatever, man,” you snort. If he gets a free pass at being a dick,  “Jon.” He looks like he’d rather not be dragged back into one of your tiffs. “How do you put up with him?” You place a delicate hand over your bikini-clad chest. “How did I ever put up with him?”

He glares at you as if daring you to make him explain exactly why he even confronted you in the first place: you were a loser. Though you remind yourself, to be fair, Damian was somewhat of a social outcast himself, so he's one to talk. 

“Maybe those rumors they used to spread about you were true,” he falsely muses to get a rise out of you. 

It works. 

It’s simple but effective. 

No one knows how to push your buttons quite like Damian does and today is a prime example of this. You shoot up from your seat with fury burning in your eyes, coming to an abrupt halt at the end of his chair, wrought with rage. 

“You know they weren’t."  

How dare he insinuate he wasn’t your first, well… everything. 

You continue to stand over him, waiting for him to say anything, but he sits in silence with a small smile you so badly want to knock off his face. 

Finally, he yawns and you anxiously await whatever dumb shit he’s about to spew, “Who really knows?” 

"I've never even so much as had a boyfriend, Dami,” you respond through gritted teeth, reveling in how his face finally falls.

You definitely caught him off guard, but you’re not entirely sure.

He covers it up as soon as you take notice, stirring the pot to cover up the brief break in his rock-solid facade, "Then you really are a whore."

It’s as if you blackout because the next thing you know, you’re holding an empty glass. 

You come to just in time to see Damian, in a now soaked swimsuit, lunging at you with a devilish glint in his dark eyes as Jon desperately smooshes himself in between the two of you as best he can in an attempt to separate you both, but to no avail. 

“DAMIAN, GET OFF OF HER!” He shouts, drawing the attention of the deck crew, who move in to help Jon intervene. 

You don’t bother touching him; it’d be too dumb of a move. He’d obviously know any moves you’d use, seeing as he was the one who’d taught you the self-defense moves you know, albeit foggily. Supposedly, he taught you everything he knows, but with his ever-present ninja-like reflexes, you’re pretty sure he’s held some moves back from you. You don’t want to give him a reason to hurt you any further in a way he can’t come back from, so you turn your head to the side, exposing your neck to signal to him you're done dealing with his shit. Well, your shit because you’d technically started it. Ugh. 

He recognizes your white flag easily and swiftly gets up before anyone else can intervene, wiping meticulously at his swim trunks. “I think it’d be best if you left,” He says your first name coldly, but you don’t stick around to hear much else. 

If Jon could, you think the glare he’s currently sending Damian would disintegrate him on impact. He mutters to himself, sounding disappointed as he helps you gather up your things and onto the tender. Damian's long gone, having retired to one of the inside cabins soon after the ordeal ended. 

“I don’t know what came over him,” he confides to you, holding your hand steady as you step down into the tiny boat that's set to take you back to shore.

“Pretty sure it was a Mai Tai,” he gives you an admonishing glance in response that makes you wince. “Yeah.. Not my best moment.” It's as close as you’ll get to an apology after all the provoking Damian had done. 

“You both need some time apart, I think.” He looks extremely uncomfortable in the position he’s found himself in as mediator.

This whole situation’s fucking pathetic.

“Like a fucking break up or something. Come on, Jon. You see how ridiculous he’s being!” You throw your arms up dramatically, causing the poor deckhand near the wheel to duck out of the way.

“I know. You’ll just have to let him figure it out.” 

You sigh.

You’ve never fought with Damian like this over all the years and it's definitely left you shaken. 

You look down at the floor of the tender. “Tell him I’m sorry about the drink, I guess.” 

Jon nods, smiling lightly, “I was going to tell him that anyway,” He pats you on the back as he and retreats from the loading deck. “Take care of yourself,” he says your name gently as he makes his way back to the main decks, undoubtedly to look for your sulking friend.

You’re chartered back to land. As soon as your feet hit the dock, you make a desperate call.

•••

“Thanks again for picking me up on such short notice,” you shimmy into the passenger seat, smiling at Stephanie behind the wheel as you buckle in. 

She shoots you a grin with thinly veiled worried leaking from it. “Of course! Sorry, I had to bring company,” she winks at the redhead in the back through the rearview mirror. 

“Never apologize for bringing Babs.” You look back to Barbara in the back seat with a tiny smile. It's been a while since you’ve seen her anyway, so it's as good a chance as any to catch up with the redhead. You’re, admittedly, still getting used to seeing her with a wheelchair in tow.

“Yeah, Steph!” Barbara punches the back of Stephanie's seat playfully. 

“Sorry, sorry!” She giggles. 

“What were you guys up to?”

“Running errands.” They simultaneously glance over your attire and think back to your pissed-off, slightly frantic voicemail you’d left Stephanie half an hour earlier. Surely there has to be some reason for the call and your lack of clothes. “What were you up to?”

“Damian had a yacht thing.”

They glance at each other in the rearview again, sensing something's gone down.

“Sounds fancy,” Babs says.

“Mmm.” 

Another shared look.

“Want to grab something to eat?” Babs changes the subject easily.

“But I’m practically naked,” you gesture down to your skimpy bikini and crocheted cover-up.

“Oh, trust me, babe. We both noticed,” Stephanie obnoxiously wiggles her eyebrows at your exposed body. “God, you make me wish I was gay sometimes.”

Barbara snorts, “What’s stopping you?”

“That handsome GPD officer I was telling you about,” she sighs dreamily. “I keep running into him and… I don’t know, I just get this feeling about him.”

“What’s his name?” You ask, quirking a brow when Barbara giggles.

“She doesn’t know.”

“Oh, come on, Steph,” you now join in on Babs giggles. “Does he at least know yours?”

She snorts, “They always do.” The three of you cackle until Stephanie pulls up to an old Mexican restaurant. It's right on the outskirts of Gotham and super close to Jason and Roy’s apartment. “I’m craving Mexican and I’m driving so… Ta da!” She gives you both jazz hands as soon as the car’s in park.

“Works for me,” you shrug. “But that still doesn’t solve this,” you gesture downward where your tits are barely concealed by the tiny triangles. Your ass isn't much better off.

“I have a pair of stretchy shorts in the back that should fit!” She gets out to grab it while you get out to set up Barbara’s wheelchair. You help lift her into it and nearly drop her when you feel the tie on the left side of your bikini bottom come undone. 

“Damn, Barbara,” she moves to re-tie it for you with a laugh. “If you wanted me naked, all you had to do was ask.” 

She smacks at your hip to signal she’s done trying, “Time and date.” 

You throw your head back and lose it.

“Careful Damian doesn’t hear us." Stephanie comes back around the car to where you and Babs are and hands you the black fabric. "He’s a real possessive one.”

You snort. “Yeah, figured that out today.”

“Just today?” They both look at you in disbelief.

“What?!” You put on the shorts Stephanie gave you and tie the crochet cover-up into a wonky tube top over your bikini before heading in with your friends in tow.

Once inside, you order and they immediately begin to dish on your friend.

“So, you’re telling us that you really didn’t know Damian liked you?” They still carry the same incredulous looks they’d worn in the parking lot. “He’s like the weirdest little demon child to ever be spawned and you actually got along with him for literal years. It’d take a fucking miracle for that to happen if he hadn’t somewhat liked you.”

You think back to the night of the Joker incident and how he’d comforted you in a way no one had before. Your stomach knots at the intimate memory of a man whom you don’t even recognize after today. 

“Now you’re gonna tell me you didn’t know Tim liked you,” Barbara jokes lightly before clearing her throat awkwardly. 

She’d been much older than you and Steph, so she hadn’t become as close with either of you as she is now until around senior year. This also means, however, that everything before senior year she’s not as familiar with, hence her not knowing the turmoil you and Stephanie went through when you’d first met. Was it true that all of that initial friction had been inadvertently caused by Tim? 

You can see the hesitancy in Stephanie’s smile, but she eventually nods in agreement, “When Tim and I were dating, I was soo jealous of you.” 

No way.

“I was 15!” You exclaim in shock. 

Tim liked you?!

Of course, you’d looked at Tim that way. He was hot and didn’t think your obsession with heroes was cringy. Regardless, you’d always just assumed he saw you as his younger brother’s nerdy friend. Nothing more. Part of you still doubts he'd ever even looked at you that way, regardless of what Steph and Babs said. 

As for Damian? Well, you knew Damian had liked you at some point with all the, uh, things you’d done, but he definitely didn’t now… right? 

She shrugs, “You’re hot as fuck and you’ve always had big tits and a fat ass. How could I not be?” 

“I’m starting to think maybe you liked me too,” you tease her, causing her to laugh easily.

“Oh, I for sure did. I just couldn’t recognize it over all the envy,” she shoots you a smirk.

Your food’s just arrived when Barbara looks down at the ringing phone in her hand. She shoots Stephanie with a look she easily reads and quickly gets up in response. “I’m glad we got to catch up, but there’s been a bit of an emergency. Do you have a ride?”

“Sorry to bail like this, but we really have to hurry,” Barbara says, setting down cash and wheeling to the exit. However, Stephanie lingers to hear your answer to her question. 

“Of course,” you lie easily. They’d driven all the way to the state over to save you from Damian’s “Can I at least keep the shorts?” 

“All yours, babe!” She gives you a thumbs up and races to meet Barbara by the entrance. “Don’t even bother washing them before you return ‘em!”

You snort at her frat-like humor as they wave a final time and load back into the car. 

You would’ve been heading to Jason and Roy’s in an hour anyway, but you shouldn't be showing up like this. You stare down at your barely covered chest, to your ass that's hanging out of Stephanies workout shorts and know it's a dumb idea to walk through the rough side of town like this. You inwardly groan, realizing it’s not like you have a choice in the matter with the way Damian had dropped you. You aren’t upset with Stephanie and Barbara needing to leave like they had when they’d just dropped everything to pick you up, but you can’t help but feel an overall feeling of sinking abandonment. 

You sigh and have the waiter bring you boxes so, at the very least, you won’t have to worry about food for you and Lian. You pump yourself up as you begin your trek along the three blocks it takes to get to Jason and Roy’s place, but not before at least two cars pull over to ask how much you cost. 

You don’t bother to slow down for either car. You try to maintain a steady pace, but the further away from the restaurant and the busy street it lay on, the more uneasiness you feel.

When the Wayne boys had trained you all those years ago, they always reminded you to keep your eyes and ears open in moments like these. They said there's probably a logical reason for you to get an uneasy gut feeling, but nothing seems particularly out of the ordinary. You wave off your worry and continue across the street. 

Two more blocks.

You’re startled in the middle of the crosswalk by the loud, crackling sound of a motorcycle revving somewhere off in the near distance, but quickly pull it together like you hadn’t. You finish crossing the street, hoping you haven't drawn the wrong attention. You know you shouldn’t be jumping at dumb shit like that, especially when the only people you've seen on the streets have all been large groups of men. You think back to the last woman you’d passed, which had been an old lady right outside the corner bodega next to the restaurant two blocks back.

You take a deep breath and hold the food further in front of your cleavage to retain some semblance of modesty, but who are you kidding? It's bad. You look like you've drunkenly dressed yourself for a shift at the strip club and the fewer people that notice, the better.

You can see the corner building to Jason and Roy’s block and break into a light jog. You think you’re home free when you’re suddenly dragged into a dark ally. 

You make to scream, but a grimy, clammy hand hastens itself over your mouth. You don’t give them a chance to get any further as your training kicks in. You drop down out of the hold. The man gasps in confusion, but you don’t give him any more time to react before you pop back up, turning to kick him directly in the balls with a satisfying smush. 

“This one's a fighter, guys,” you’re panting slightly as you watch two more figures approaching from the corners of your vision. Regardless of how scared you are right now, you can't help but smirk at his deduction. "No way, freak's fuckin' into it." 

His fear is all the encouragement you need to give the doubled-over man a psychotic grin he can’t even see from his hurt position. His friends, however, can and make small noises of unease. 

“Oh," your eyes go wild. "You have no idea.” 

You set down the to-go bag gently and shake out your wrists just as the second goon begins a barrage of slow punches. You easily dodge them and parry them with quick, ferocious bursts of fists. 

“Agh!” He exclaims as you drive a hearty punch into his fleshy stomach, sending him backward into the metal casing of a dumpster that lies further down the ally. 

He’s still groaning on the ground, propped up by the dumpster, when the two other men gather their wits and team up to attack you simultaneously from both sides. 

You try to remain calm as you prepare yourself for their inevitable attack. 

You wait until they get right on you before lifting off the ground into a split kick that nails both men in the face. The momentum sends each man crashing into the brick ally wall on their respective sides. 

The dude on the ground shuffles to get to his feet, quivering, nearly tripping over his buddies to get away from you in his haste. 

“That’s right! Tell your creepy fucking friends,” you yell after his retreating form. You wait until he's out of sight before spinning into a proud little jump. “Oof!” Upon landing, you run into something extremely hard and extremely smelly. 

You stumble backward, sneezing at the offending scent. When you look up, you startle, quickly distancing yourself from the man in the motorcycle helmet, who smells vaguely of gunpowder.

You squint your eyes up at him, almost immediately recognizing his getup from the news. 

His name isn’t coming to you now, but you know what the costume stands for: Joker. You sure as fuck aren’t sticking around to find out if this guy is affiliated with that creep or not. 

“I think everything’s all good over here,” you hesitantly tell the man who’s yet to talk but is also currently blocking your only way out. 

“What are you doing out here?” 

You startle at his robotic voice and subconsciously take a step back toward the unconscious thugs. “I’m just going home,” you answer in a higher-pitched voice than usual, much to your chagrin.

Lowly goons you can deal with, but dual-wielding gunned, Joker-themed psychopaths? 

Yeah, not so much. 

You put up your hands in a lax surrender, slowly inching toward the bag of food that sits at the base of his ginormous combat boots. On second thought, cooking wouldn’t be too bad, right? You abort your mission, deciding big boy over here can have your stupid Mexican food if it means you don’t have to fight him.

“I won’t hurt you,” comes his robotic reply. 

Regardless of his words, you still feel like a deer in headlights. Your heart stops completely when he reaches near your frozen body to grab the bag. With your breath caught in your throat, you look up. His red helmet comes within centimeters of your face as he offers the bag of food in the direction of your cowering form. 

You stand instantly, finally feeling like you can finally think again once you stand over his still crouching body. You watch as his monstrously thick thighs stretch the fabric of his cargo pants sinfully when he stands, once again gaining ground on you with his incredible height.

“Cool. Thanks,” You say with a forced smile as you attempt to get around his thick, built body. “I’ll be going now, then.” You give a tiny salute but startle, leaving the action suspended mid-air at the sound of one of the men you’d kicked coming to.

It’s also at this moment that the pounding sound of footsteps becomes clearer. In fact, the thunderous noise seems to be rounding the corner when you finally pick up on it.

“There she is! This way.” 

You anxiously look up at the red helmet of the man standing next to you, hoping you can trust him. 

“Follow me.”

It’s all he says and, with your food in tow, you don’t hesitate to do exactly as he says. You trudge along behind his swift pace with your sandals slapping against the slush and muck of Gotham as he leads you deeper into the dark ally systems.

You follow him around an adjacent ally, only to be roughly pushed up against the dirty brick wall.

“Hey!” You push off the wall and against his hard chest, but he easily pushes you back against the bricks. You squirm against his hold, attempting to protest as he covers your entire body with his and searches for whatever sound he’d apparently heard. “Listen, I don’t think it’s that deep,” he shushes you, but you roll your eyes and continue in a slightly lowered voice. “I mean, muggings in Gotham are basically a given. How is this any different?”

He turns his head back to you. “You want me to leave you like this, or what?” He threatens in his robotic voice as he eyes your revealing outfit up and down in the little space that remains between your bodies. “What are you supposed to be anyway? A hooker?”

You think back to the others who’d thought the same and wrinkle your nose in disgust.

“Hey, fuck you, man.” This time, he backs away when you push him off you. “You wish I was,” you pull down Stephanie’s shorts to regain some semblance of modesty, but it’s in vain. With your head slightly turned to see if the shorts were covering, well, anything you see shadows floating across where you’d just come from. You immediately feel your heartbeat start to tremble. 

Just what the fuck is going on? Were these dudes really that ass-hurt about getting taken down by a girl?

The helmeted man sees the shadows at the same time you do and wastes no time in taking action.

It’s his turn to snort as he picks a different direction to walk in with a pace you can’t quite meet while walking, so you begin to jog next to him.

“Whatever helps you sleep at night.” He does slow his pace a bit, though, much to your aching leg's delight and your ego's chagrin. 

You ignore him and continue your best to keep up as you follow behind him. You’re definitely feeling more comfortable around the man after what seemed like genuine concern. “And I think I’d be okay, anyway. I mean, did you see the other guys? Yeah, plural. I totally had them.” 

You walk ahead of him when you finally catch sight of the populated streets that you’d been nabbed from and hasten your pace. 

“Yeah, but add ten more? You’re lucky I even saw you,” he's chastising you, you realize with an incredulous shake of your head. “I almost sped by you on my patrol route until I saw it was you- er an issue... happening.” 

You know he’s right, but you try to play it off. 

If you think about what could've happened for too long, you'll start to spiral back to your other close-call incidents. You shiver, quickly catching yourself, all while hoping he didn’t notice, but his unreadable helmet ultimately reveals nothing. 

Quick to switch the subject, you boop the middle of his red helmet where his nose would be and motion him to take the lead again, “Well, thanks for seeing me and everything, I guess.”

He nods at you, coming to a stop at a parked red motorcycle before boarding it. It reminds you somewhat of Jason’s old one, but this one looks a helluva lot faster. 

You make to get on, but he stops you, grabbing your finger, “No more boop’ing. Get on.”

You hesitate with slight amusement at him saying the word ‘boop.' “Two questions,” he motions for you to hurry the fuck up. “Do you have another helmet,” he nods and shuffles around under the seat before producing a black one for you. “Thanks. Okay, second question: are you good or bad?”

He scoffs at your juvenile question, “From your position what does it look like, ba-” 

You don't have time to question him cutting himself off because you suddenly hear the approaching sound of footsteps that've been steadily gaining on you and your unlikely savior. You waste no time in dropping into the remaining space on the seat behind the dude’s massive form and quickly put on the helmet he gave you. 

At least one of your questions had been answered. 

You shove on your helmet and quickly climb on behind his hulking form.

One of the first and last times, you remember bitterly, that you’d been on a motorcycle had been when you skipped school for the first time with Jason and Roy. You don't let the memory linger too long, quickly shaking the embarrassing thought from your head and promising yourself that you will not orgasm on this masked man. 

You blush at your thoughts, thankful he can’t see your flustered expression. “Well, your creepy voice doesn’t help any.”

“Listen, you got on my motorcycle. Might not be the best idea to piss off the driver.” The last part comes out somewhat rushed, like he's worried about something other than the thugs, but what exactly, you don’t understand. Nor do you fully trust yourself to be able to understand the stranger’s tone when it's all coming out robotic anyway. “I did save you, didn’t I?”

He speeds off, easily getting lost in the evening Gotham traffic. After a few turns, you begin to relax, breathing in the cool night air that whizzes by at the insane speed he's zipping around at. 

When you exhale, you feel the weight of the situation release with it, not realizing how much tension you've actually been holding in.

“Save is a big word.”

He just turns his head briefly at you before speeding up, leaving you to tighten your grip around his hard abdomen. 

Do not orgasm, do not orgasm. 

“Whatever you want to call it, but you are on my bike, so how bad could I be?” He screeches the bike suddenly, leaving you to slam uncomfortably into his back as he doubles back in the direction you’d just come from with a grating screech that reverberates throughout the streets. 

You’re absolutely fucking terrified. 

The lack of space between your bodies after his stunt isn't helping your other predicament either. 

“Well,” you begin one of your nerd ramblings to get your mind off of the current situation, “you appear to be the vigilante Red Hood. When he first appeared in comics, Red Hood was the original alias of the man that would later become Joker, but your helmet’s all wrong.” You bravely unwrap one of your arms from around Red Hood’s waist to tap against his helmet. He sharply turns halfway as if to say, “wtf? I’m driving, bro,” but you continue anyway. “Joker’s helmet was originally made from two-way stained red glass, while this is more of a motorcycle fetish look.”

“Glad my outfit finally has a proper label, then,” his robotic voice tones, sarcasm somehow evident, as he makes a sharp turn, seemingly to get back at you. You cling onto him for dear life and peek open one eye over his shoulder to make sure you're still alive before burying your face into his back. 

This is exactly where you stay for the remainder of his little joy ride.

Once he’s back to driving somewhat normally, you start up where you left off, peeling your cheek from the leather of his jacket to peer up at the side of his helmet.  “So, basically, I’m just confused if you’re similar to who you based your outfit off of or not. AKA good or bad?” You repeat your original question to him. 

From what you can remember from things you’ve seen online, it seems like not even the news can pin down this dude’s motive, but then again, you can’t completely remember. 

“My world isn’t so black and white,” you ask what he means, but he doesn’t answer again, instead focusing on slowing down to look around where he’s driven to. “Just tell me where I’m dropping you off, sweetheart.”

You squint your eyes at him, still not completely trusting his motives, “For sure.” 

You’d basically been at their doorstep when you’d been attacked, so now, after his little speeding stunt, you're well on the other side of town. You start pointing in the direction of Jason and Roy’s apartment. Once you get to the general area, you tell him you’re there even though it's actually two blocks early and hop off.

“Thanks again for ‘saving me,’” you use air quotes as you walk up to the random apartment building. “Bye now,” you give a little wave, expecting him to drive off and are perturbed when he just sits there and watches. The blank look on his helmet does nothing to ease you further. 

Even as you arrive at the keycard access door to an apartment that's not your own and won’t allow access to the keycard you have, he continues to sit there. Waiting. 

Who says chivalry is dead?

A quick glance down shows a seemingly amused(?) Red Hood, though you can't be too sure through the emotionless helmet. You wave to him again and turn around to face the door, pretending to fiddle around your beach bag, but he remains glued to the spot, looking at you with arms crossed. 

What kind of babysitter would you be to bring this potentially dangerous man to the doorstep of their apartment? 

At the same time, you reason, it would be somewhat worse to lead him back to your actual apartment where you lived alone. At least with Roy and Jason’s place, you’ll have two bulky dudes to back you up. 

You sigh and turn around to get back on the bike.

“You ready to tell me where you actually live, babe?”

You narrow your eyes at the familiar nickname, recognizing it to be what he’d cut himself off from saying earlier. Eventually, you get back on the bike albeit hesitantly and gesture further down the street. This time you only take him a block away before you just start walking, hoping he'll just leave. Even as you prepare your backup plan, you know it's complete shit. 

“One more down,” You mutter and wrap your arms back around him as he huffs robotically through the helmet.

“So, you won’t tell me where you live even after all I’ve done? I’m just trying to get you home safe and sound and you, for one, are making it extremely difficult,” he glances back at you incredulously. 

Did he completely zone out your explanation of him wearing Joker’s first costume? Joker’s name alone is enough to send shivers down your spine. After your run-in with the killer, you wanted nothing to do with the psychopath. Considering Joker was this masked man’s whole persona, he doesn’t seem all that trustworthy to you. 

Besides, you hadn’t even needed saving, anyway. You’d taken those three thugs down with ease after what Damian and his family had taught you. 

“Try not to sound so hurt, random vigilante.” You guess that that would be the most accurate term for the man in front of you. His silence seems to indicate his acceptance, at the very least.

“It’s just Red Hood, by the way.” Nevermind, you’d guessed wrong. “Not random vigilante.”

“Cool, whatever,” you say, hopping off his bike for the second time.  

This time, as soon as you reach the door, you turn and shoo him with your hands. 

If he could roll his eyes, you know he would’ve, but he does oblige you in driving off, leaving you with a vast sense of relief. 

“Bye, Red Hood,” you yell after him, then tug your food bag closer to your chest. 

You continue further down a block, hoping he isn’t still following you on his motorcycle, but the lack of revving makes you think the coast is clear, so you scurry home. Well, not home, you correct yourself, blushing at your slip-up. You mean to Jason and Roy's apartment. Duh... 

Once inside, you're met with Roy and Lian hunched over the stove, making some sort of pasta concoction. You, once again, remind Roy that if he doesn’t want his child poisoned, he needs to let you or Jason do the cooking. 

“The fuck is that?” You ask with a scrunched-up nose. 

Roy smiles wide and lopsided, “Something like a pasta carbonara. Right, Lian?” The girl nods confidently beside him and continues to stir the haphazard goop around the pan.

“Guess I’ve got Spidey senses for your shi- oot cooking, or something because I grabbed this on my way over,” you set the cold bag of food down on the kitchen island before returning to Roy’s side to give both of them side hugs. “Also, don’t ask about the outfit unless you’re going to give me something to wear,” you warned Roy sternly, who already seemed to be doing his best not to stare at your oddly provocative outfit. 

“Deal,” he winks as he begins to unload the containers. So much time had passed since you’d left the restaurant that you’d actually forgotten what everyone had ended up ordering. “Wouldn’t wanna ruin the show.”

“Your child is right there, you perv,” you look around the empty apartment. “Where’s Jason, anyway?”

“Seems like you weren’t expecting him,” he points down to the three containers he’d set up. “Or expecting to come over here, at the very least.” He doesn’t try to hide the way his eyes are traveling up the expanse of your body. "Maybe you were, though," he winks easily. "That's hot."

“Ah, ah, ah!” You tsk at him. “Give me some clothes, Roy.”

“Ugh,” he slumps off dramatically but returns moments later with one of his oversized slogan T-shirts and a pair of sweats. “Here, go change while I get her fed,” he goes over to where Lian’s attempting to put a fork into one of the styrofoam containers. “Lian, let me at least heat that up for you first!” 

You chuckle and huddle into the bathroom that's already regained a bit of its original messiness to remove your damp suit. You forego Roy’s sweatpants and end up going commando in Stephanie’s shorts and braless in Roy’s ‘World’s Sluttiest Dad’ shirt.

Roy looks up from Lian as you approach and quickly uses his prosthetic hand to cover up his eyes at the sight of you. “Oh, man. Jason’s gonna kill me,” you raise a brow at him and grab the plate he held out for you with his other hand. “Absolutely, utterly kill me.”

“He’ll have to get in line after the night I’ve had,” you tell him about dinner with Barbara and Stephanie and how you figured you were close enough to walk, but then all the thugs. “And, Roy,” you look him dead in the eye, “I kicked ass, like serious ass.” 

“Hey!” Comes Lian’s tiny voice. Roy banishes her over to the couch so you two can have a bit more privacy. 

“Sorry!” You shoot Roy an apologetic glance across the kitchen island, but he’s still focused on your story. “But I totally knocked these three guys out and then this dude in a helmet- Red Hood,” you trail off at Roy’s sudden increase in interest. 

He leans in, “Red Hood, you say?”

“Mhm,” you nodded. “He thought I was a hooker,” you laughed at the memory of what Red Hood had asked you.

Roy clasps his hands together, “Okay, so maybe Jason won’t kill me.” You tilt your head in confusion, not seeing the connection at all. “This is good. Anyway, continue,” Roy smiles brightly at you.

“So, remember when we skipped and took Jason’s motorcycle?”

Now, it’s Roy who’s confused. “You mean the time you came all over my arm? How could I forget,” he smirks at the exact same time your heart drops.

Oh, fuck no.

“ROY!” You short-circuit, ultimately forgetting how to function. “No, you did not know that this whole time.”

He grins slyly, “Oh, I didn’t?” He obnoxiously and extremely accurately imitates how you’d bucked back into his crotch and spasmed on Jason’s back with your head thrown back on Roy’s shoulder. “‘Oh, Jason, you’re so angsty and hot with your motorcycle and leather jacket.’” He pitches his voice impressively high. “‘Take me now!’”

You bury your head in your hands with a pitiful whine, “Oh my god, I want to die. I really want to die,” you look up with begging eyes. “Please never ever mention this ever again. Like, EVER,” you beg desperately, looking into Roy’s mirthful green eyes. “I don’t think I can ever come back from this level of embarrassment, dude.”

“Don’t worry. I’m pretty sure Jason’s forgotten about it by now,” he winks at you when you groan.

“Pretty sure?” You mumble pathetically. “A mercenary seems logical at this point, right?” You hide your face in your hands, wishing Roy would just leave for work already, but he's still picking at his plate.

“As long as it waits until we get back home from work, princess.” You quickly forget your shame at the sudden nickname. You still aren’t used to hearing him say your old nickname, but each time he does, you feel like a piece of you is complete. “Speechless? Yeah, I have that effect on the ladies,” you fake gag as he moves to stick his leftovers it in the fridge. “I gotta get heading out, though and you’re here early, so it works out perfectly. Jason’s gonna be mad he missed out on our date, though. That’s for sure.”

You deadpan, “Roy, I’m watching your child for money. It’s like the furthest thing from a date.” 

“For money, you say?” He wiggles his brows obnoxiously referencing your earlier (lack of) outfit. 

“Piss off. Don’t you have to put on your little business suit?” You try to tease his usual choice of stained clothes that always he leaves in, complete with those mysterious, heavy duffle bags, but he remains taking you in. It’s as if he’s peering deep into your soul with just a simple smile and you're embarrassed how quickly he makes you shut down. He’s never looked at you like this before. No, in the past, he never looked at you like he actually saw you, but it seems like he does now. 

It can’t have been anything you’ve said, surely.

“I should probably get ready,” his voice trickles out deep and raspy, causing you to unwittingly gulp under the sudden shift. 

Before you can bask in his attention, he quickly releases you from whatever spell he’d held you under as he walks past you and into the hallway. In his wake, you’re met with a whiff of his rugged scent.

“Don’t forget your briefcase!” You call to him in an even tone as he leaves the room to change, hoping it covers up just how much you’ve been thirsting over him. You go to the couch to finish eating with Lian, then take your dishes to the kitchen to wash them in the sink as Roy passes behind you in his typical work attire and matching bags. “Sooner or later, I’m going to start thinking you guys are serial killers or something with those heavy-ass bags you carry around,” you say as he unnecessarily passes behind you in the already tight space between the sink and the kitchen island. 

“You’d probably be right,” Roy maniacally cackles and settles into a typical villain pose. “MWAHAHA! ”

Lian squeals and runs over to Roy to grab at his cargo pant leg. “No, it’s more like this, dad,” she then proceeds to release her own, much cuter, evil laugh. 

You can’t help but smile at the adorable yet slightly concerning sight in front of you. “Definitely serial killers,” you conclude, trying to ignore Roy’s heat from behind you.

“Be safe. Don’t do anything I would do!” Roy ruffles Lian’s hair and then yours. 

He walks over to the door and opens it, but Lian refuses to let him leave. “Love you, dad!” 

“Love you too. Be good,” he smooches her on the head and winks at you one final time. “Live up to my shirt, princess.”

Your face drops instantly, “Way to kill the moment, Roy.”

“Why kill it when we could… alive it?” 

You snort, pushing him out the door, “Go before you lose the rest of your touch.”

“Ask, Jason- it never left, babe. I mean princess.”

You tilt your head slightly at the correction but continue to shoo him off. After all, why would he care about using Jason’s old nickname for you? 

One thing's for certain: you don’t understand anything concerning the two of them in the slightest.

A/N: is it getting hot in here??? hope u have a good day/ night!!

[next]  ||  masterlist ||  pinned || my ko-fi / tip jar

[swinging-stars-from-satellites]

thinking about how there's a window of time where Tim and Cass basically had the same haircut and like, I know I've mentioned the Concept™️ of them getting mistaken for biological siblings as civilians before but now I'm thinking about like.... what if various goons and villains thought they were bio siblings, but like, in-mask. obviously nobody puts together Black Bat/Orphan and Red Robin with Cassandra Wayne and Tim Drake-Wayne, but Red Robin and BB/Orphan have the same color and style hair, same slight, narrow build, and pretty similar combat styles — is it really a stretch to think that some people might think the two of them are related by more than just paperwork and a father's love?

[oldmanlogan]

guys the time we spend here truly does breed genius but its the times we live in that changes words' meanings.

[deus-ex-mona]

there’s a non-non-zero chance of success though… _(:3 」∠)_

[audisive]

♪ BROOKLYN BABY. (💌) – previous part

౨ৎ simon 'ghost' riley | reader

synopsis: the 141 believes the scot now.

tags: fluff, romance, soft!simon, you're basically their mom atp lol, bickering, there's a bet between gaz n soap, gaz secretly wants you shh, ooc characters, not proofread, price being the gentleman he is, he's seriously just watching everything unfold

       It's not always that Ghost is willing to let the 141 stay at his house for their traditions – which is just drinking beer and watching sports, really. In fact, he's always said something about his place being empty, so they always settled on someone else's. They stop asking after a year, and in turn, he stops having reasons.

It's not until Soap pops the question again when everyone else's houses are unavailable for a variety of reasons, his being that he left his faucet on and now his shitty apartment is flooded. You can only imagine the suspicion and shock when Ghost agrees (or, rather, simply grunts).

The drive is long, nothing short of 5 hours, and Soap spends the better half of it bickering with either Gaz or Ghost. He falls asleep by the next half, and when he awakes, he gawks at the lovely looking house before their car. There's two stories to it, a balcony, a front porch, and there's no doubt that there's a backyard.

Contrary to popular belief, no, it is not all black or plain at all. It's all equally surprising to them. The Brit isn't the type to care about the appearance and state of a house, usually. They do envision him in a mostly empty apartment with only a bed and a bathroom, though.

There's a delicate touch to where a rough man lives; the smell is almost heavenly when they enter the house. It's homely, the scent of newly washed sheets and lingering smell of food; there's a cat perched on the living room table that Ghost scratches the head of lovingly in a way that's so casual and natural. It's like they're at the gates of–

"Simon!" Heaven's bells ring in their ears, luring them into the doorway of the living room, and the sound of feet padding against the cold floor. There comes a soft-looking thing running into Ghost's arms, completely engulfing you.

You only notice the three familiar faces of your boyfriend's team members – though you know he considers them family if anything – when you pull away. An angel clad in only a cami top, shorts, and Simon's hand around your waist, you turn to look at the group with a surprised look on your pretty – Soap thinks that God, you're so pretty – face. "Oh, hi," you smile sweetly, obviously awkward at the silence and the staring.

"It's been a while," Ever the gentleman, the gruff voice is the first to speak up with your name uttered, the only who's actually met you – John Price. Soap is too enamored with the way you hold yourself and the fact that, holy fuck, even your name's pretty. Gaz raises a brow at the captain's greeting.

You smile once more – a genuine one now. "Nice to see you again, John."

"'S rude to stare, Johnny." Simon speaks out, a smirk under the mask. "Please excuse him, miss," Gaz adds, this beautiful man, and offers a charming smile.

"You must be Gaz," you hold your hand out, "it's a pleasure to finally meet you."

"Pleasure's all mine," Kyle forgets that a hand could be this soft and gentle, "and please, call me Kyle." He barely stops himself from turning your hand in his to kiss the back of it like one should to a lady so fair; his lieutenant has good taste in women, he'll give him that. And when you're out of the area, Soap is sure to rub it in Gaz's face. I told ye so! LT wis hidin' somethin' from us. A pretty something, that is. You don't miss the way he slips a twenty-dollar bill into the Scottish man's hand.

"Glad tae meet ye," Soap finally says, winking. "Understand why he wis hidin' a bonnie lass like ye from us." There's a mischievous glint in his eye, almost naturally so.

"A'm hurt, LT, but whit can I do? After all, we're just a couple o' brutes, arenae we?"

Simon watches in amusement, "you'll live." Soap is quick to move to your side as you lead the small group of hulking men through your shared home after that.

Simon is visibly more relaxed with you around. He's comfortable, that much is a given, with the way he's taking up most of the thankfully large couch with his manspreading. So is the 141. They're pampered like spoiled children (or pets, really) through the whole day.

Instead of just beer and faucet water, they're offered a variety of drinks in the kitchen that's enough to be considered a private bar. Instead of an empty belly unhealthily stuffed with beer and a mix of mediocre takeout, they're met with warm homecooked meals. They lose track of time quickly; the night falls by the time they've tired themselves out, and they've had not one, but two meals thanks to you.

(They're sure to commend your cooking skills and think of how lucky this tall brute of a man is blessed with a woman so soft and pliant and wonderful and– while Price is the one to be the most grateful, Soap compliments you the most. "A can practically taste the love." You laugh in turn.)

Gaz is the first to speak after a meal so lovely, they could simply just sleep on the floor comfortably and wake to the same smell of home. "It's a bit late, love, we should probably go."

"Thank you for having us," Price smiles down at you kindly.

"Ye've been lovely, bonnie." He wants to stay some more.

"Wait," you stop them, looking up at Simon for further approval. He's already looking at you with a reassuring brush of his thumb on the side of your hip and a nod. You turn your eyes back at them. "It's already late, you three should stay the night. We have enough room for everyone."

There comes, "we don't wanna intrude," then, "we can take care of ourselves, it's alright."

"Please, I insist." Your smile brightens, "I'll even cook breakfast before you leave."

The mohawk moves with a sigh, "now tha's just no' fair, lass. How are we gonna say no tae that?" You giggle. Only then do they find themselves tucked away in the guest room, and boy, you were right when you said it could fit them all if not more.

On the way to the bathroom in the late hours of the night, Soap catches a glimpse of light through the crack of your bedroom door to see his oh-so strong lieutenant, vulnerable in your arms. There's something natural about the way you cradle the large man and kiss his hair like it's part of your DNA, like you're programmed to do that 'cause Soap thinks you're simply unreal.

He's proud of his lieutenant, this lucky bastard. He turns another blind eye once more, but he's paid in full with another fulfilling meal by the morning.

[tangledstarlight]

sometimes i miss the major character death warning and have no one to blame but myself for skimming the tags smh

[lavender-devotion]

Hi Hi! I wasn't sure if you're open but can I request a Alastor x reader who is a charlie's older sister and she is alastor's fiance. They never told their hotel friends, basically they're in a secret relationship, until Lucifer arrived (from episode 5 dad beat dad) and announced she's engaged. but no body knew who her fiance was until alastor popped up behind her and pressed a kiss on her. Charlie's happy and Lucifer D:

As soon as I saw this request I immediately ran to make this meme, lmao I'm sorry 😭

anywho, here we go lmao

Summary: You’re Lucifer's eldest and, much like Charlie, you’re desperate to have his support and approval---he’s your dad, of course you are. So, when he finally visits the hotel, you can't wait to tell him that you're engaged. And he's overjoyed...that is, until he finds out that you're engaged to the Radio Demon. What happens when your fiancé and your dad start feuding over you, forcing you to pick a side? Your family, or the love of your life?

Tags: Alastor x Fem!Reader, No Use of (Y/N), Reader is Lucifer's Eldest, Secret Relationship, Lucifer has a heart attack bc Alastor, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, we're just gonna pretend Alastor has been at the hotel a longer time than in canon bc Plot, Charlie is a Good Sister TW: None <3 Word Count: 2.6k Read it on Ao3 <3

When you'd first met Alastor, you had been…skeptical of him, to say the least.

To be completely honest, you’d hated him—and that was putting it lightly. You hated how condescending he was, you hated the fact that he clearly had ulterior motives, you hated that he kept everything about himself a secret, you hated his damn smile, you hated…him!

And the feeling was definitely mutual.

Alastor hated your obvious distrust of him, he hated the fact that you neither feared nor respected him, he hated the way you’d constantly tell Charlie and the others to be wary of him, he hated the way you always seemed to get in the way of his plans, he hated…you!

And no matter how many lessons Charlie had on friendship and trust—lessons that she forced the two of you to attend, I might add—or how many lectures about how the two of you needed to get along or how much she begged the two of you to stop fighting, nothing ever worked.

But…then something changed.

At some point between then and now, the two of you began to soften and learn more about each other---often against your will, and your wishes---and you found...that you had more in common than previously thought.

You both preferred radio to television, you both had a love and penchant for cooking, you both enjoyed quite a few of the same novels, and on and on it went. And those similarities brought the two of you closer together and, although neither of you ever wanted to admit it, you actually began to get along. Eventually, after enough time had passed, the two of you managed to forget why you didn't get along in the first place---all of it becoming a distant memory.

Of course, one thing led to another, and now you were lucky enough to have a pretty little ring on your left hand---not married yet, but soon to be.

Obviously none of the others knew about any of this, by both of your wishes. You were both private people and, knowing everyone else, they would ask questions and the two of you would end up having to spill your entire life's stories to finally get them to leave it be---and even that wasn't guaranteed!

So, to avoid the drama of it all, you just...kept things quiet. Private.

It wasn't particularly hard---Alastor wasn't much of a PDA person, especially in public; neither of you were particularly big fans of pet names; your dates were always fairly simple; and the two of you had your own jobs within the hotel to attend to, so half the time you weren't even in each other's presence.

It was...nice. Having someone to lean on, being able to see another side of Alastor---and having him all to yourself. No one else had him like you did, and you preferred it that way. Of course, though, all good things had to come to an end.

Your and Charlie's father, Lucifer, was coming to the hotel for the first time and---knowing him---it'd be the last, so now was possibly your only chance to tell him about your engagement in person.

Part of you was nervous, considering that you hadn't even told him---or anyone else---you were dating someone and now you were just going to spring an engagement on all of them, but another part of you was relieved and excited. Obviously, you would miss the privacy, but who knew? Maybe everyone's constant curiosity wouldn't bother you as much as you thought, and you might actually end up enjoying a more public relationship.

One where you could kiss him whenever you pleased, instead of being forced to wait until the two of you were alone; one where you could wish him goodbye with an "I love you," instead of snarky "don't die" on the way out; one where you could simply blow off any potential suitors with an "I'm married," instead of having to convince them that you really weren't interested in dating. Maybe all of that would be nice too.

"Nervous?" Alastor asked, the static overlay of his voice drawing you out of your thoughts. You turned away from the mirror you were looking into, instead turning your attention to your beloved---his ever-present smile softening as he looked at you.

"A little, I just..." you sighed, "I just want this to go well, but---knowing my dad---he's going to freak out and it'll be a whole thing."

He chuckled and stepped forward until he was close enough to brush a stray piece of hair out of your face, "not to worry, my dear, I'm sure everything will go just fine."

"But-"

"And if it doesn't," he continued, "I'll be by your side to help you fix it all. You won't be alone."

You smiled and let him draw you into a chaste kiss, some of your tension dissipating in his presence. Somehow he always knew how to make you feel better.

"What would I ever do without you?" You asked, gently cupping his face.

He tilted his head slightly to press another kiss to your palm, "you'll never have to find out."

Suddenly the unmistakable sound of Charlie's voice made its way up to your shared room, introducing everything and everyone in the hotel to---who you assumed to be---your father. So there was no more preparing yourself for it, now you just had to do. Besides, maybe Alastor was right, maybe he'd take the announcement better than you thought.

There was only one way to find out.

----------

"WHAT??? HIM???"

He did not, in fact, take it better than you thought.

You tried to wait for the perfect time to break the news, but---of course---your dad had immediately spotted the ring on your finger- (a detail that, somehow, everyone else had missed) -and pressed you for more information, his actual reason for visiting long forgotten. By both him and everyone else, apparently.

Getting a meeting with Heaven was suddenly playing second fiddle to everyone's curiosity about who you'd been dating behind their backs---who you were now engaged to. So, after a lot of pressing and pressing, you'd finally relented and admitted that it was Alastor. Which had led to...all of this.

Charlie was vibrating off the walls, everyone else was in various states of shock, and your dad...looked like he was in the middle of a mental breakdown.

"You can't- I mean-" He laughed, more than a little hysterical, "you're not actually engaged to him, are you?"

Before you could answer, Alastor cut in---a sharp edge coloring his tone.

"Why wouldn't she be?"

Your father's attention switched from you to Alastor, practically seething as he looked at him. You couldn't see Alastor's face from your place beside him, but you could tell that the feeling was mutual by the crackling electricity that crawled across your skin.

"Have you ever fucking met you?" Your father asked incredulously.

"Yes, and I'm very lucky to have her," Alastor responded, punctuating his statement with a gentle kiss on your cheek---a kiss obviously done just to piss your father off, since you knew Alastor wasn't exactly fond of public affection.

The tension was thick in the air as the two just stood there, glaring at each other.

Then finally, your father laughed.

"Alright then..."

Jazzy, upbeat, music suddenly came out of nowhere, and—before you had any time to process what was happening—you were drawn into your father’s song and dance number, the world around you shifting to follow his words. 

“Looks like you could use some help, from the big boss of Hell himself! Obviously, since I don’t know how you could’ve felt that this–”

One voice, “Bastard!”

Two, “Jackass!”

Three, “Arrogant piece of shit!”

Back to your father, “–would ever make a suitable husband! Especially for you, did you forget?” 

He twirled you around until you were in an elegant dress and crown, falling backwards onto a throne.

“You’re a princess of Hell, so better yet! Rather than an old outdated crook—who’s probably just using you for your station, at least from the looks—why not let your dad give you pick of the lot?” He snapped his fingers, new people appearing with every beat, “men, women, or those in between; outgoing royalty or someone serene, anything but this walking tomato lookin’ prick—you could have anyone, so just take your pick!” 

A streak of shadow suddenly shoved your father to the side, Alastor appearing in his place with a charming grin—his shadow twirling around you like it was trying to hold you. 

“My dear it’s true that you’re one of a kind—everything anyone could ask for, a very rare find,” he knelt before you and kissed your hand, “I’m a very lucky sinner to call you my own, to stand by your side as you sit on your throne.” 

He then moved to sit on the arm of your throne, pulling you into his side, “however I have to agree that someone around here is a crook, but it’s certainly not me, so let’s take a look!”

The first person he picked out of the crowd was Charlie, his shadow minions bringing her forward dressed in her own royal attire, “your darling sister, who’s been by your side—supporting you through your troubles, high or low tide!” 

Next came the other residents, dressed in their own fancy clothing, although less detailed than yours and your sister’s, “your close hotel friends, do you dare suspect them? Even though they’ve proven they’d follow you to the end?” 

Finally he knelt in front of you again, dressed in his own royal attire and placing a golden ring on your left ring finger, “or do you truly think it could be me, your doting husband-to-be? Could I be the traitor despite the love, trust, and devotion I’ve given to you, or everything I’ve done to prove that my affection is true?” 

“Of course not! You know that, so why don’t you see?” Suddenly your father was shoved forward like a criminal, the shadows dressing him in peasant style clothing, “the only traitor around here is this snake, does he take you for Eve?”

“Excuse me?” Your father asked incredulously, pushing back the shadows and reappearing in his usual clothing.

“Trying to lead you to darkness with his tricks and lies, wanting you to be miserable and lonely instead of by my side.” 

“Hold on now–”  “All this unsupportive jargon, telling you how you should live your life,” Alastor practically snarled, looking your father dead in the eye, “no wonder that this bastard was left by his wife.”

Your head was left spinning as things quickly switched between your father playing a golden fiddle, to your fiance interrupting him on a vintage piano—the two practically seething at each other before turning their attention back to you.

First Alastor, “my dear, why don’t you pick your own path, instead of listening to this stick in the mud?”

Then your father, “why choose a shitty partner over your own blood?”

And that is how it went. 

“And pick a deadbeat father, nothing more than a dud? Wouldn’t you rather find happiness with the family you choose?” 

Over.

“Yeah, sure, pick a bunch of losers–” 

And over.

“Can you butt out of my song?” 

And over.

“Your song? I started this!”

Until finally– “I’m singing it, I’ll finish it!” 

You had had enough. 

“Oh you tacky piece of sh–” 

"JUST STOP!" You shouted, bringing their argument to a screeching halt and drawing a deadly silence into the room, "for fuck's sake---how can the two of you not see your own hypocrisy?! Even when it's sitting right in front of you!"

The two of them stared at you, wide eyed, but you kept going before they could respond.

"You're arguing over what's best for me, while not even fucking asking me what I want! This isn't even about me, this is about the two of you hating each other," you took a breath, desperately blinking back tears, "well you know what? BOTH of you are hurting me! BOTH of you are ignoring my wishes! BOTH of you are treating me like shit! And I don't want to fucking be around EITHER OF YOU!"

And without another word you turned on your heel and left the hotel.

----------

The moment you heard footsteps coming near you, you flipped around and snarled---prepared to snap at your father or Alastor, whichever one decided to come kiss your ass to one-up the other. But, instead, you only found Charlie standing behind you, a concerned look on her face.

You immediately turned away from her and wiped your eyes, not wanting your little sister to see you like this, but she didn’t seem to mind—just sitting beside you and resting her head on your shoulder as you sniffled.

After a moment, you broke the silence.

“I just…I don’t understand,” you said, voice shaking, “they’ve known each other for five fucking minutes and already hate each other. Why can’t they just get along for me? Do I seriously matter that little to them?”

Charlie was quiet for a moment, mind churning.

“I don’t necessarily think that’s it,” her voice was quiet as she spoke, as if she was thinking through each word, “I think that, for the first time ever, both of them are dealing with the fact that they might not be the most important man in your life and…I guess this is just their way of reacting to that.”

You turned to her, eyebrows raising, and she continued to explain.

“Family is important to you, Alastor knows that, but he hasn’t had to…complete, I guess, with anyone for his place by your side before—so, when dad showed up and openly disapproved of him, I think he just got scared that you’d leave him because of what dad thinks,” she took a breath, still thinking through her words, “dad, on the other hand, has always been the one who you’d run to for everything—if you were scared, sad, happy, or needed help, he was the one you’d go to. Now you have Alastor and that’s who you go to for everything, so I think dad just got scared that you wouldn’t need him anymore now that you’re getting married.”

“Congratulations, by the way,” she added wryly, squeezing your arm with a smile.

You gave her a small smile back, “how’d you ever get to be so smart?”

“I learned from the best.”

You sighed, “I just wish they’d get over themselves, I can—in fact—have more than one important man in my life, there’s not a fucking limit.”

“Yeah well…men can be stupid, I guess.”

You snorted and pulled her close, gently ruffling her hair, “you’ve got that right…between you and me, though, I like you better than both of them.”

Charlie giggled and hugged you, the two of you inseparable, just like when you were kids. You took a little longer to just breathe and enjoy the sweet moment with your sister, before finally releasing her.

She then got up and dusted off her suit, bright smile now firmly back in place, “now, let’s head back! I’m pretty sure Vaggie’s already got them working on their apologies, and I already have so many ideas for a new lesson plan on: selflessness and communication!”

You shook your head, but didn’t manage to quite hide your smile. Whatever happened, at least you would always have Charlie by your side…and Alastor and your father, if the two could manage not to kill each other.

“Those apologies better not be in fucking song format.”

“…I’ll text Angel.”

[11cupid-tarot11]

What would they say to you through text right now?

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1 -> 2

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- Cupid 𖥔 ࣪ ᥫ᭡ꗃ⋆࣪.

Pile 1-

"I need to figure myself out."

"Don't treat me the way you do, I don't deserve it."

"I can't talk to you right now."

"I don't want to be who I used to be. You deserve better."

"I love your breasts."

"I want to watch you pleasure yourself."

"I want to play between your thighs."

"I want to feel you."

"I really want to fill you up, so bad right now."

"Do you remember me?"

"I love you."

Don't forget to do the poll below! Take care<3

Pile 2-

"The way I have treated you was wrong."

"I am stuck in visions of us together."

"I'm obsessed with you."

"Don't wait for me please."

"I'm afraid to lose you."

"I love how you give in to me, even when you're mad."

"I want to finger you while I'm filling you up at the same time."

"Treat you like my princess again."

"You shouldn't have to wait for me to grow up, you don't deserve that."

"I'll sit alone everyday and reflect on myself until I'm ready to love you like you should be."

"Don't hide from me."

"Don't let anyone else see what's mine, even in separation your heart only beats for me, right?"

Don't forget to do the poll below! Take care<3

Pile 3-

"The heat between us is intense.x

"Will this ever change?"

"Emotions overwhelm me."

"The passion is too much."

"I can't let go of you."

"I want to watch you ride me."

"Your ass is so cute."

"I want to watch your ass while you ride me."

"I really can't stop thinking about your ass."

(lmao?😭)

"I want to live between your thighs."

"I love watching the faces you make while I fuck you."

"I want to see my cum all over you."

"I need to see how you look beneath me, how you feel, I need you."

Don't forget to do the poll below, take care!

Pile 4-

"My life is a mess right now."

"Please do what is best for your heart."

"I am scared of rejection."

"Why do I feel so lost?"

"I really want a home with you."

"you're my future."

"I want to provide you with everything you need or want."

"I want to watch you orgasm after orgasm."

"You'll be my queen in bed. I'll spoil you sweetheart."

"You'll always come first, I care about you so much."

Don't forget to do the poll below! Take care <3

I forgot to add pile 4 🙈 comment '4' down below instead! 🩷

[genshin-obsessed]

Could I request headcanons of Honkai men getting random hugs and kisses from their s/o?

Ooh I feel like I could do them all buuut I also don’t like doing tags lmao so forgive me. I’ll add anyone new, idm!

Characters: Caelus, Welt, Bladie, Jing Yuan

☆ Caelus

100% blushing but definitely infatuated. Caelus isn’t used to this type of affection but keep it coming.

He does get embarrassed if it’s in public. Will ask for you to refrain in front of strangers. Otherwise, small hugs and kisses the best in his opinion. Kinda ok around friends, just not too much.

Once he’s pretty used to it, which doesn’t take that long, he starts returning them. He does try his best to often try and catch you off guard because those are the most fun.

No, you can’t always tell. That’s the point!

☆ Welt Yang

Uhh he’s pretty sure he’s a little too old for that. But I mean, don’t stop.

Welt is a bit more reserved and so he’s not overly fond of PDA, but small things here and then aren’t too bad.

He actually likes returning it. Like, catching you off guard with a kiss and watching your eyes widen is so cute and exciting. Makes him feel all young again with that first love kinda feeling.

It does turn into a war behind closed doors. If you surprise him with a kiss, he’ll try to one up you like “no, I kissed you.”

☆ Bladie

He will 100% freeze up and just stand there for a second. Even after a while of this, he isn’t very used to it.

He likes it though. Like, sometimes he’ll expect it and just wait patiently. Then he gets sad if it doesn’t happen.

He tries to do the same, but he’s extremely awkward. Like, he’ll lean in and just get embarrassed. Then he’ll give you a quick kiss, turn away, and blush.

It’s extremely endearing and he’s definitely trying to be less awkward. It takes time- a long time- but any progress is better than none.

☆ Jing Yuan

Oh, so you’ve chosen war? Ok, well don’t forget this was started by you.

Jing Yuan is more than more than happy to fluster you with surprise make out sessions. You’ll be busy and bam! Make out session!

Don’t worry, he’ll never do that in public. He has class. But you let your guard down and well, that’s an opportunity. No, he's not sorry. In fact, he's all smug about it like "well, pay attention next time".

Goes without saying, he’s so for it. He loves it. He eats it up. Please give him all of your affection and love and YOU.

[sunfyresrider]

ミ♥︎OUR LAST SUMMER | NETEYAM SULI

❥Summary: You were never allowed to leave the lab, especially to venture off into the forest. However, one day you get a extreme urge to go to the river and that’s where you met him. The man who would surely be your downfall. ❥Word Count: 8k ❥Tags: obsessive tendencies, love struck Neteyam, mild manipulation, jealous!neteyam, interspecies relationship, wingman!Lo’ak, smut, fingering, oral, p n v, choking (slightly), mild angst. Am I missing anything? Lmk! ❥Author’s Note: This can be seen as a part one to a future fic of mine ‘Mated for Life’. S/O to me for finally remembering to add a word count LMAO. This is inspired by an older fic of mine so I’m kinda copyrighting myself😎

Neteyam knew from a young age everything would fall on his shoulders, that all the responsibilities of an adult would be his to bear. It made him pretty fucking miserable to be honest, but he would never let it show. It made him a better person in many ways, a better son, a better warrior, and a great brother. It did not make him happy nor did it make him forget the loneliness he felt.

Lo’ak always claimed he was misunderstood but Neteyam dare say he had it worse. No one viewed him as other than perfect, no one attempted to see what’s under the surface, and no one was there to love him in the ways he thought he deserved. Today was one of the days that proved he wouldn’t be anything other than the perfect soldier. Another day he had to take the blame for something he did not do.

His brother had snuck onto the battlefield and nearly killed them both. The second their ikrans landed his father had a speech to give to them both, even while his eldest son was bleeding. He took the blame as he always did, the yelling, the insults, and the beratement to protect his younger brother. How much more could he take though? After his wounds had been healed he found himself in the corner of the forest, knees pressed tightly to his chest.

Neteyam prided himself on not being weak but today he let the tears flows. He let the river attempt to wash away the burden that he had no choice but to carry. Neteyam wanted someone, just anyone, to understand him. That is what he prayed for from Ewya, even though the great mother did not involve herself in petty things such as this, he hoped she would this one time.

You had grown up on Pandora, your mother being one of the great scientists who worked with Grace Augustine and Jake Sully. She didn’t allow you to venture outside often like spider, you were too small, too precious to her to risk being harmed in the wilderness. In your opinion it was a load of bullshit and you deserved to play with the Na’vi kids just like him! Except now you were older, inexperienced, out of shape, and would probably die by a viper wolf attack.

Unfortunately for her you were born with rebellion in your heart and a strong sense of will. Dusk had fallen on the moon and the light from the windows inside the lab were beginning to fill the room's orange. It was one of the rare moments you were able to be completely alone. It was a strict rule to return to your room after biology lessons with Norm but you had plenty of time to stroll. Right now, your mother would still be aiding the warriors returning from the recent battle. It was prime time to make an escape and explore.

You first met Neteyam in a very compromising position, curled up by the stream and sleeping. There was a subtle stain on his blue skin from tears that were shed earlier. He looked pathetic, not in a bad way, in an abused puppy way that made your heart melt. How could you leave him out here all alone? Granted, he was twice your size and carried many weapons but that thought did not ease the ache in your heart. No one should ever be left alone to cry. You crawled next to him and gently placed a hand on his shoulder to shake him awake. “Neteyam?” You whispered into his ears.

His eyebrows began to furrow slightly, ears twitching in the direction of your voice. “Neteyam, wake up.” He jumped up and snatched your wrist, startling you. “Brother?!” His eyes scanned the surroundings quickly and you before settling with a confused expression plastered on his face. “S-sorry Lo’ak isn’t here,” you mumbled out. You knew the former vastly better since he visited the lab so often, all you knew of the eldest was stories.

Neteyam’s quickened breathing settled, his eyes scanning over your form. Which human were you? You were too pretty to be another scientist, too young to have lived here during the war. It took him awhile of staring at you for his brain to finally put it together, “star girl.” His hands released you slowly as his mouth hung slightly agape, why in Ewya’s name would Lo’ak hide you from him? He had seen you in passing once or twice but he didn’t realize you looked like this.

Neteyam never considered an alien could be beautiful but you proved him very wrong. You had the perfect lips, your eyes glistened with his reflection inside your pupils. Your hair fell perfectly, highlighting your pretty face. And from what he could see from your strange clothes you had a nice body too. “Lo’ak told me many things about you, all good so far.” He quickly cleared his throat, pulling his hands away to wipe the tears from his eyes. This was embarrassing, but he was going to push through it.

Two tiny, four fingered, hands cupped his cheeks. Your skin was warm, soft and distracting him from his original thought. “Are you alright? Was someone being cruel to you?” You regretted the last sentence as it stumbled out, he was just in a battle you idiot! Oh Ewya, help him because you sounded like the angels his dad spoke about. Neteyam was too dumbfounded to say anything coherent, maybe too starstruck by your presence.

You weren’t necessarily wrong, his father did hurt him deeply. His mother hurt him by not standing up for him either. The most perplexing part was you cared to ask, your tiny self risked being in these dangerous lands just to see if he was alright. Neteyam forced himself to nod slowly, not entirely sure how to react to such comfort.

Perhaps this wasn’t the best thing to do but your mother always comforted you in this way. You had even done this to Kiri a few times when she came to the lab to cry about her own problems. Gently, you swiped the tear tracks from his face, pressing two gentle kisses where they laid. “Don’t cry, you’re an amazing warrior, a good son, an even better brother. You finished your Rite of Passage before anyone else your age. You have so much more to offer than just those things and they’re just too blind to see it. And so many people love you like-”

“My child,” the sounds of your mother's cries echoed in your ears. Shit, she knew you had escaped. You let go of him quickly, preparing to run into her arms and feign innocence. Before you left though, you jumped onto him, arms embracing his frame the best they could. “You're perfect, okay? I’m always here to talk if you need it." You jumped to your feet, brushing off the dirt you had collected whilst exploring. "I gotta go... feel better!"

Neteyam sat up and watched you scurry away, his eyes were wide and time had stilled around him. Where the fuck have you been his entire life? His heart felt full in a way it hadn’t before, Neteyam’s stomach twisting around itself. The thoughts of your little hands, your little frame, your sweet voice and soft lips swirling in his head. You were so… perfect, so inviting… You had to be his.

He had never truly thought about having someone all for himself, especially an alien. But even the perfect son needed to indulge his own desires at times, even the hardened warrior needed to be held in times of sorrow. At this moment all he could think about was stealing you away, keeping you safe in his home, protecting you from the dangers of this world forever. He needed more, desperately and as soon as possible.

Neteyam pulled himself up, with a new found confidence he ran home. It was time he talked to his parents about finding a potential mate.

The talk went about as well as Lo’ak claiming his ikran. He mentioned he had found someone, and he was prepared to finally choose a mate. His parents rejoiced, the proud look they reserved for him finally returning. Until he mentioned that it was you, and the light drained from their eyes, the colors fading from their faces.

Neteyam’s idea was shot down faster than he could manage to speak it. You had an avatar body in that damn lab and he knew it! You could easily become one of the people like his father and be his mate. Why was his mother so against it? His father at the very least gave it some thought before succumbing to his mother’s rants.

It wasn’t her fault she was traumatized, but it was hypocritical considering his father was an alien when she met him. Fine, Neteyam was used to a challenge and he would claim you before they had another chance to say no. Hopefully this time around his love for you would override his fear of disappointing his parents.

✦•······················•✦•······················•✦

The next time he came across you was far after eclipse, everyone in his home was fast asleep while he made his move. It was incredibly hard to sneak out of the camp, even harder to sneak into the human camp. Your stupid cameras and metal monstrosities make it nearly impossible to creep through, let alone into you. Neteyam vaguely remembered where Lo’ak claimed you slept, in moments like these he was grateful his brother had his back.

The more he tiptoed around the camp the angrier he became, were you even real or was that a fever dream? He stumbled onto a group of tree metal homes stacked against each other. Carefully, he peeked his head into each one searching you out. To his disappointment the first two were occupied by a snoring Norm and a drooling Max. It took him one more attempt before he finally saw your sleeping figure.

You were so adorable, all bundled up in the things called sheets and holding a pillow tightly to your chest. It made his soul melt at the sight, Neteyam wasted no time welcoming himself inside, pushing the first door open and closing it tightly behind him. If he let any air in from the outside you may die before he got the chance to touch you again. Thankfully, the next door was easier and much quieter than the first.

Neteyam had to crouch as he approached you, ignoring how terrifying he probably looked. He outstretched one of his long fingers to brush a strand of your hair out of your face, admiring the peaceful view in front of him. If Ewya allowed it he could stay and watch you sleep all night but your air was already taking an effect on his lungs.

“Yawne… wake up,” he gently placed a hand on your shoulder, urging you awake. You were an incredibly light sleeper, your eyes shot open and you jumped back as if you were about to scream. Neteyam quickly shoved a hand over your lips, bracing the back of your head with the other before it crashed against the wall. “Shhh, shh yawne, it’s Neteyam.”

You crooked your head to the side, watching him closely. Obviously pondering why he invaded your space at such a late hour. “Neteyam,” you murmured into his hand, confirming if this was a dream or reality. A wide grin blessed his features, “good morning, baby girl.” He heard that nickname from his father, and by the blush on your cheeks it worked quite well. “What are you doing here?”

You rubbed your eyes, gazing out the window, “it’s after eclipse...” you drawled into a yawn. His entire body language shifted, excitement coursing through his veins. “I’m always too busy during the day to visit so I thought now would be the perfect time.” You sat up on your bed, he reached up and brushed the hair out of your face again. His eyes were completely memorizing, and he touched you with the gentleness only your mother did. “O-okay.”

Neteyam smiled at you with such kindness, even with his size you didn’t feel threatened in slightest. “I thought since you never get to go out I would take you tonight. Of course, you would be under my protection the entire time.”

Your face lit up, you could finally leave and see what’s outside these dull walls. But at the back of your head the sound of your mother's voice telling you what not to do rang strong. The fear of disappointing her was even stronger and the fear of potential punishment. “I- I can’t.”

“No one will find out, I promise.” His amber eyes peered up at you with the same heart wrenching expression as the other day. “You wouldn’t want to make me sad, would you? I- I just thought you would want to spend time with me.” It was manipulative, he knew but it worked flawlessly with you. Neteyam would make up for this one transgression later. “Fine, just wait for me outside please. " you said in a nervous whisper.

Neteyam didn’t take his eyes off you as you slid into your “outside” clothing, at some point he would need to get you actual ones instead of the odd human fabrics that cover too much. You hastily slipped your mask on, taking in a deep breath as you did. He hated that thing, hopefully soon he could get rid of it. A very subtle, almost unnoticeable feeling of butterflies filled your stomach as you exited the lab.

“You ready, baby?” The word sounded foreign on his tongue but music to your ears. You nodded in excitement, letting Neteyam grasp your hand and pull you along. He was gentle with you no matter how much excitement was coursing through his veins. You moved in unison through the thick leaves, granted he whisked you off your feet anytime you seemed to falter. The farther away from the encampment you got, the happier you became.

The forest was naturally lit with bioluminescent flowers, vines, and grasses of all kinds. The noise of animals coming out to play filled your ears and for once it did not frighten you. Neteyam was basking in your joy, your voice carried only the excitement of someone innocent to this world. And when you glanced at him? It felt like Ewya herself had sent you to make his heart ache.

To avoid any possible maimings or accidental injuries he kept you very close to him. If Neteyam’s arm was not around you then his hand was on yours. The warmth you radiated felt like his only life source. To your surprise, he was naturally funny and laid back. You had only assumed he was cold, stern and serious, this must be a side of him he only showed a few.

You spoke with him more than anyone, babbling about everything you saw, heard or felt. It may seem obnoxious to others but to him it was like a melody being played by a flute. Each time you squeezed his fingers he felt the blood rush to his head, pounding at his skull in the most beautiful way. You had completely and irrevocably captured his heart.

As the evening progressed the original point of this journey was almost lost to the daze you put him in. Instead of immediately taking you to the sacred place he opted for the stream where you originally found him, you could call it a second, better, impression. It was memorizing in the eyes of a girl who never got to leave her cave of comfort. The fish glowing beneath a gentle stream, a waterfall glistening under the light of several moons.

But this place would be the start of your inevitable downfall. It started off as a dare that turned into swimming half nude with a man twice your size. You let the water flow past you, cradling your body in its warmth. Neteyam was a better swimmer than you, granted you had never gotten the chance before. You chased him in circles below the surface, quickly becoming distracted by the fish that swam by.

The orange was your favorite, reminding you of the sunset. His favorite was the yellow, said it reminded him of you because yellow was the color of happiness and you made him happy… It was a very sappy way of flirting but it worked. Neteyam spent most of his time indulging you on what you wanted or asked the entire night and he did not mind for one second.

You asked him personal questions no one else dared to, further carving your way into his soul. If he thought he knew what love was before he was terribly wrong. Whatever you were doing to him was much worse in all the right ways. It was about the time he came to the realization, staring into your eyes and seeing your future together, you started to nod off. Your eyes become droopy, yawns escaping your throat every other sentence.

Neteyam would stay like this forever if he could, drowning in your existence. Your health was more important to him though and you desperately needed sleep to survive. You tried to fight him off when he said it was time to go, whining to stay here forever. It was cute, and he almost didn’t make you leave, until another adorable yawn left you.

He whisked you off your feet without protest, wrapping your legs around him so he could carry you home. You felt embarrassed at first, realizing you probably looked like a baby being carried by their mother. But then you began to feel his breath on your neck sending goosebump down your spine, long fingers wrapping around you to keep you in place. The low, deep, whisper of his voice telling you sweet nothings echoing in the walls of your mind.

A new sensation washed over you as Neteyam’s lips brushed against your ears ever so slightly. A sweet ache between your legs that progressively got worse the longer he held you. You attempted to pull away, embarrassed he could feel the heat, but he easily overpowered you. Neteyam was determined to keep you in place, as close to him as humanly possible.

He paused his stride, gazing at you for a moment and then back to the forest ahead. You avoided his eyes, but you could feel the smirk creep onto his face. He didn’t say anything on the way home, deep in thought it seemed. However, you could hear his breath becoming ever so slightly heavier.

Neteyam should be a good little soldier and take you home and feign ignorance. He noticed every sound, every look, every smell, every movement coming from you. The warm feeling across his waist that was driving him to the brink of insanity. His own arousal was bound to be noticed the second he put you down… How far could he go with you before he was stopped? You wanted him and why should he not give you what you wanted?

Sneaking back inside the second time was easier than the first, and this time he intended to stay a little longer than necessary. You were drowsy, too tired to change yourself into dry clothing. You probably told yourself he was used to seeing people in less clothes and that it was nothing to Neteyam. Oh how wrong you were. He managed to keep quiet though, attempting to avoid the thing between his legs.

“Time for bed, yawne.” You threw yourself onto the bed, melting into the mattress. Sleep evaded you, the wetness between your legs making it unbearable to get comfortable. To your surprise, he climbed on top, hovering mere inches from your face. “You okay, baby girl?” His ears twitched, Neteyam’s tail betraying his thoughts. There it was again, the foreign nickname that rolled off his tongue like honey.

You crossed your legs together tightly, “I-I’m okay.” He cocked his head to the side, bringing a finger up to brush your face. “I can help you if there’s something wrong,” he purred. You gulped, opening your legs ever so slightly to make a little more room, but that only made the ache worse. His knee found its place between your thighs, applying pressure to the one place you were trying to avoid.

You turned away and evaded his gaze. You felt like a complete idiot, a grown woman acting like a horny teenager, it was disgusting! However, when you looked back at him he was still looking at you expectantly, waiting for you to ask for his help. His knee moved forward once more, you bit your lip to avoid the sound attempting to escape. “I can show you what helps me, yawne.”

He whispered lowly, you didn’t have time to think, or reply before his lips were connecting to yours. You attempted to push him back, tell him no, this was wrong, and you could get in so much trouble. But the feeling of his legs between yours was easing whatever plagued you. A sound of pleasure escaped you before you could stop it, and that seemed to embolden him.

His lips pressed harder against yours, the sweetness of his mouth made your mind hazy. Neteyam’s tongue found itself entangled with yours, and you found yourself getting lost in the moment. The feeling of need was quickly becoming too much so you moved your hips against him, desperately trying to release the pressure.

Neteyam chuckled into your mouth, his fangs glistening in the light. “All you had to say was your problem was down there,” he purred. “I can fix that for you,” Neteyam’s voice turned into an exhilarating whisper, sending chills down your spine. You shivered at the feeling of his fingers gently slipping inside your waistband, hovering over the spot you really wanted him.

You grabbed his hand, your nerves getting the best of you. “W-what if someone finds out.” Neteyam moved forward, cupping your pussy . It was so wet and desperate for him, how could he stop? “I won’t tell if you don’t.” You closed your eyes, nodding your head. Neteyam kissed you once more, this time more rough than before. Internally, he hoped everyone would find out.

He slipped his finger inside of you, his eyes growing wide at how tight you were. He could feel the heat emanating from your core, and you were practically throbbing. Neteyam’s fingers were large enough to easily reach your sweet spot, stretching you out as he added another. You clenched around him, a high pitched sound leaving your lips.

He groaned at the sight of you, you were far too good to be true. Neteyam leaned down, gently nipping at your neck and sucking on your pulse point. His fangs occasionally gliding across your sensitive skin. Neteyam continued to pleasure you, fingers moving at a steady rhythm, a pace he knew he could keep up for hours.

You bit your lip to hold back your whines, each breathy exhale turning into a high pitched moan. The sound was like music to Neteyam, he couldn't get enough of you. His tongue snaked out of his mouth, tasting your skin as he left marks. He wanted everyone to know you belonged to him, in one way or another.

His thumb began to circle your clit, thankfully human anatomy was similar to his own. His tail wrapped around one of your legs, pulling it to the side, allowing him more access. You gripped onto him, burying your face in his chest to hide the embarrassment of the sound leaving your lips.

Neteyam kissed your forehead, nuzzling you softly as he quickened his pace. You clenched tightly around his fingers, bucking your hips against his hand, riding it out as much as possible. Neteyam had you pinned under him, mercilessly trying to pull out your orgasm. He was almost certain he would cum in his loincloth.

"You're doing so well for me, baby girl." He purred into your ear, his tongue darting across it as his hand worked you. His fingers consistently applying pressure at the spongy spot inside of you. His thumb continued to move across your clit, working it to match the pace. You gripped tightly to his broad shoulders, rolling your hips against his hand as you felt your body begin to give way. "Oh, I-I-I..."

“Hmm? Baby girl I can’t hear you.” His breath was hot on your neck. “S-sgood, Teyam,” your new nickname for him made him groan. His fingers continued to move, making your words come out more high pitched and incoherent than before. He nipped at your neck, biting it and sucking hard enough to leave a mark.

He didn't want to stop, he didn't want this moment to end. The feeling of your warm cunt tightening around him as your body tensed. Your nails digging into his shoulders, you back arching and hips bucking. His hand moved at a steady pace as your body began to unravel, letting yourself go. The euphoric feeling washing over you like a tidal wave.

Neteyam took his time as he eased you through it, gently bringing you down as he whispered sweet nothings. He peppered kisses across your face, murmuring how good you were to him as you relaxed. "Good girl," he whispered. He carefully removed his fingers, and your body mourned the loss of him. “You did so good for me, yawne.”

Your body was limp underneath him, your weighted breaths slowing. “I’m so tired,” you murmured. Shh, go to sleep, yawne. I’ll clean you up.” And he did exactly what he said, unsurprisingly. He took the time out of his night to carefully clean up the mess he made on your body and clothes. It was pathetic to admit but at some point, he came in his loincloth, and it was leaking out onto your sheets.

Neteyam watched you sleep peacefully until the light began to shine into the camp. He rushed back home and thankfully, no one noticed his disappearance. This became a routine between the two of you, and Lo’ak became his best wingman. He pretended to not know anything, made excuses, and visited you pretending like he wasn’t just going so Neteyam had an excuse to follow. For once he was very grateful his little bro was the way he was.

Things were looking up for you as well, Now you got to leave the human lab more often and you got to watch him train with the other boys. A few people noticed the way you watched him and how he watched you, the way he moved if you moved. It was kept quiet, as far as anyone knew you had no relationship. Neteyam was always teaching and showing you exciting new things, making you laugh constantly, showering you with affection you received from no one else. He worshiped you in a way you never thought possible.

Neteyam was completely beside himself, and it was going to kill him eventually. You told him you loved him, were proud of him and he was so much more than just the perfect son. You liked him for the reasons no one else did, seeing him for how he truly was and wanted to be. It was no wonder he was infatuated by your existence.

Neteyam, thankfully, found enough self-control to not fuck you. To do enough to keep you attached to him but not enough to ruin you completely. He was pretty positive he wouldn’t even be able to fit inside you anyway. It didn’t change the fact he thought about it every single day. It was hard to explain the things he was feeling but he knew he was stuck to you. Without you he wouldn’t be able to breathe, eat, or sleep like he used to. Neteyam’s existence would become completely meaningless without your presence.

But for now, it was new and perfect. Shiny like a freshly carved toy bound to break.

✦•······················•✦•······················•✦

All good things come to an end, you learned that after Quartich had returned and Neteyam was being stolen away to a reef clan too far from you. The moon stopped its rotation, all of the life you had being stolen away after he uttered the words goodbye. It was an indescribable pain, unrelenting and all consuming. It took weeks for you to be able to leave your bed, for the nightmares to cease, but the thoughts of him haunted you at every waking moment.

The only place you could find him was at the river, in memories. A part of you wished to go back, to have never left the lab and stayed oblivious to his existence. In your heart you knew he was bound to carve his place into it one way or another. Neteyam used to say how he prayed to the great mother for you and Ewya always finds a way. Day and night blurred together, you stopped counting the hours and let them fly past you. In your darkest moments you repeated a chant to yourself, a prayer almost, One day, Neteyam will come back for you.

He cried, a pathetic display, in front of his parents to bring you with. Neytiri was disgusted, but not enough to hate you as much as spider. He took that as a small win in a losing battle. Jake never faltered on his stance, only family could come unless you wished to put yourself in danger. All he received for his pleas was sympathy from his siblings and a harsh scolding from his parents. It felt as thought his heart had been torn from his chest, the air sucked out of his lungs. You would be here alone, without him, doing all the things you should be doing with him. Neteyam would be stuck in the middle of the ocean with strangers on a droll island.

He did not adapt to the way of water like Lo’ak did. His brother had finally found an environment to thrive in but he was completely lost without you. It was becoming harder to maintain the perfection his father strived for. Even whilst in mourning he had to care of everyone, protect them, comfort them and receive none of it in return. It was a hard life to live but what other choice did he have?

Neteyam only ever felt happy again when he drifted off in his sleep. He was always with you in his dreams, feeling, touching, hearing and smelling you again. For a few hours each night he was back in your room making stupid jokes and listening to rave about your newest discovery. It was always sunny in his dreams, even when it was nightfall. Each time Neteyam closed his eyes it was as if he was in the promised land… but everyone has to wake up eventually.

To ease the eternal ache, he started pleasuring himself more often. It would be a sad sight if anyone ever caught the once mighty warrior stopping to such levels but desperate times called for desperate measures. Neteyam fully intended on stealing you away one day, human or avatar body he didn’t care anymore. If anyone was against you he would kill them… except his own blood, of course.

When he connected to Ewya he saw you, crouched down by your mother in a body he didn’t recognize. Oh, your avatar, your mother is finally allowing you to use it. You were still ethereal in the new body, still tiny, but you looked much more like him. You felt so close to him, your warmth radiating through the connection. He was at peace again, for a limited time only. Neteyam was dragged away the second he felt a shift in the water… Kiri

“We’re leaving… now!” You scrambled to grab the med supplies before you leaped onto the helicopter. For all that it was worth, you hoped Kiri was okay. Still, a very selfish, disgusting, part of you was glad you now had an excuse to visit Neteyam. Norm wouldn’t allow you to go in Avatar form, too early to tell if it would last the long journey ahead. You nervously picked at your fingernails the entire way there, she would okay you knew it.

Neteyam could only watch as your little form rushed past everyone to get to his sister. He never left her side or yours for that matter, choosing to stay outside and watch you work. He couldn’t put into words how grateful he was for you, for the effort you were devoting to his family, to saving his sister. He felt a sliver of happiness just watching you again, seeing that you were alive and well.

You hadn’t given him the time of day though, too busy checking Kiri’s pulse and giving her an IV. If you were being honest with yourself this didn’t appear to be a normal human illness. Almost all people can wake up from seizures naturally, almost, as she wasn’t waking up at all. You didn’t know as much about Ewya as everyone else but if this happened whilst she was connected to the tree… then it was probably due to that.

Of course, you hadn’t voiced this out loud in fear of insulting Norm and his hard work. Also, Neytiri breathing down your neck had you too scared to move, a good mother, but a very scary woman. Eventually, you were all kicked out and you nearly fell on your face rushing onto the woven walkways. They were much more bouncy than you expected but a rather large Metkayina boy caught you before you dived head first into the ocean.

“You should be more careful, alien.” You gazed up at him with wide eyes, he was even bigger than Teyam! The last word was in Na’vi but you knew very well what it meant. Luckily, it wasn’t filled with disdain like it usually was, rather disappointment paired with curiosity. A strange thing you did notice was his hand remained on your shoulder, was this normal? “Thank you…” His head raised, eyes scanning you cautiously, “It’s Aonung.”

The crowd around the marui had finally begun to disappear and Neteyam was able to release a breath he didn’t know he was holding. He stood up from his crouching position, thanking ewya for saving his sister and welcoming her back to the land of the living. It was times like this he was grateful his dad pushed him so hard, if he was too weak, too careless, she could very well be dead.

Neteyam slowly stalked out of the marui, lost in his own thoughts. He knew you would love the ocean, the water, the creatures, and all of the plants you fawn over. His dream was to be able to show you it eventually, under more positive circumstances. For now, he would accept showing you what he could whilst you remained here. A childlike smile graced his features as he looked around, head turning in all directions to spot you.

“I’m going to kill him,” his eyes twitched and Neteyam’s hands unconsciously balled up into fists, granted they were not the same as those with four fingers. Aonung was touching you, talking to you as if you weren’t an alien. After all the bullshit he’d done to his siblings he had the nerve to touch you? He felt the bile in his gut rise to his throat as you smiled at something he said. “It’s a waste of time,” Lo’ak appeared beside him and if he was in his right mind Neteyam would have demanded to know where he has been.

Except he wasn’t in his right mind. “Fish lips,” his younger brother mumbled under his breath before turning to go into the marui where Kiri rested. Jealousy, rage, hate, hurt, Neteyam couldn’t put a name to everything that was boiling inside, but it was too much. You hadn’t even fucking glanced in his direction the entire night. Before he knew it his feet had carried him right behind you, his chest rising and falling with each deep breath.

“Teyam,” you exclaimed, more excited than you have been in months. Your smile fell when you noticed the way his eyes were staring daggers into the water boy, enemies perhaps? “Back off,” he gritted through his teeth as he poked at Aonung’s chest. Obviously, this wasn’t a fight the other was interested in. He glanced at you with a raised brow, if he had a brow, and back at your Teyam.

“Okayyy then,” he lifted his hands in mock surrender. “It was nice meeting you, human.” Aonung spoke to Neteyam more than you, his smirk directed only at him. You swore you heard him growl lowly, maybe the heat was getting to your head. He didn’t move as he watched the fish boy walk away, his tail swaying violently behind him. “Neteyam?” You turned to him, staring at his face after what felt like centuries.

“Teyam-” you were cut off as his hand wrapped around your wrist, literally dragging you away from the camp. You protested at first, slamming your fist into his arm, offended by how he was behaving. Did the reef people make him cruel? “Let. Me. Go!” you shouted at him, but your cry fell on deaf ears. The grip he had on you wasn’t bruising but his strength far outmatched yours and this was completely unfair. You whipped your head around to watch where he was taking you, the sandy beach quickly turning into heavy shrubbery.

It was beautiful at the very least, you told yourself to remain positive. There hasn’t been a time where you’ve seen Neteyam this angry, especially at you. He paused in his steps when he felt you were now far enough away from everyone. Neteyam let your hand fall to your sides, taking a deep breath, “you!” You flicked when he raised his voice, your fear only heightened at your sheer size difference. "Y-yea, me."

Neteyam huffed, his eyebrows furrowed and gaze piercing though you. “Why haven’t I seen you all evening” Normally, he kept all of his feelings under check, making sure to never express them in case they would upset someone else. Now, the anger radiated off of his shoulders and his words dripped with malice. His question came out as more of a demand, and you could feel your own anxiety spike up. “I was helping Kiri.”

“Helping? You were too busy swooning over fish lips to help anyone.” The words fell from his mouth faster than he could process, regret immediately flooding his system. You wished the ground would open up and Ewya would swallow you whole. “I- I-'' you choked on your own words, tears welling in your eyes. “You don’t love me anymore?” Your damned mask began to fog as you stumbled over your words.

Neteyam's hands were around your shoulders before you could even react, pulling you into him, “don’t cry please, you’ll suffocate to death.” His tone was gentle and he spoke softly, but you could still hear the pain in his voice. The tears came quicker now and your heart hurt. His large hands ran up and down your back in an attempt to calm you down.

"I- I'm sorry, I don't mean to," You sniffled, attempting to keep the tears in your eyes. Neteyam didn’t mean to make you cry, although seeing you like this for him was far better than watching you with the other. Shit, was this manipulation? He dropped down on his knees so you could almost be the same height, placing his hands on your cheeks, forcing you to look at him. “Shh, I still love you. I would never stop loving you. No matter the time we spend apart or the distance between us, you’re in my heart forever, yawne.”

He always knew the right things to say, it made your heart swell and warmth fill your body. Neteyam could make the worst situations feel okay. "I-I," Neteyam placed a hand over his heart, "you don’t need to say anything to me, I've upset you." You sniffled "I still love you too," Neteyam released a deep breath, his face turning stern once more. “Let me prove to you how much I care about you.”

It took minutes before you were laid out on the sand, your pants long discarded. Neteyam had your legs over his shoulders, devouring you. Your toes curled against the cool beach as the wind blew through your hair, the breeze from the water chilling the heat radiating off of you. It was a new sensation, his tongue rubbing circles around your clit. The feeling was foreign and intense, sending jolts throughout your body.

Your hips bucked as his fingers prodded at your entrance, forcing all three inside as an attempt to stretch you more. Neteyam growled in response, the noise sending vibrations throughout your core. His fingers pumped in and out of you, curling against the top of you to press into the soft spongy spot that had you crying out. Neteyam lapped at the wetness leaking out of you, drinking up every single drop of you.

His eyes met yours, you felt as if the whole world was spinning, a euphoric feeling bubbling inside you, building and building. Neteyam's tongue pressed against your clit once more and you felt the orgasm ripple through you, your walls contracting against his fingers and squeezing them. The pleasure was overwhelming and you couldn't do much but writhe and cry out as Neteyam brought you down from your high, licking you clean of your mess.

He pulled away and you whined at the loss of his body heat, until you heard the sounds of his loincloth falling to the ground. You pulled your head up off the ground and gasped, he was large, incredibly too large for you. His tip was a bruising purple, shining with precum. Your eyes nearly burst out of your skull, it looked painfully hard as his veins popped out. “T-teyam-”

Neteyam climbed on top of you, shushing you with his finger. “I’ll be gentle I promise,” he purred, his hand snaking down to his tip, rubbing the sticky liquid around the head before placing himself at your entrance. “I’m gonna claim you, mark you with my scent so no one else fucking touches you.” The head of his cock prodded at your entrance and the pressure was intense, your walls achingly slow stretching to fit him. "I can't," Neteyam pushed the head of his cock into you, forcing a choked cry from your lips. “Shh, just be a good girl for me.”

It hurt, yet it felt good in the most bizarre way, a tingling sensation shooting through your body as he pushed deeper and deeper inside you. “Oh ewya, you’re so fucking tiny, baby girl,” he groaned as he pushed deeper. His cock was stretching your walls, the pain slowly disappearing as you grew used to his size. You could feel him against the very base of your cervix, his hips pressing flush against your thighs. “F-f-fuck,” you choked out in a choked whimper, trying to get accustomed to his girth and length, it had to be the size of your forearm at least.

Neteyam began to pump into you slowly, giving you a few seconds to adjust to his length before snapping his hips and forcing the air out of your lungs, causing you to scream and arch your back. You couldn't believe the noises coming out of your own mouth, the moans and cries echoing around the beach. Neteyam moved painfully slowly, thrusting himself in and out of you.

He used one of his large hands to press against your stomach, feeling his cock move inside of you. “You feel that, yawne?I can feel myself moving inside of you. Fuck, you're so perfect, sweetheart, taking all of me inside you.” He hissed as his movements got faster and more erratic. The feeling was indescribable, the mixture of pain and pleasure that had your head spinning and mind hazy.

Neteyam couldn’t fit all of himself in you no matter how hard he tried, he settled for slamming into the top of your cervix, forcing a scream from your lips. He hoped everyone could hear you screaming his name from miles away. “You like that, baby?” Neteyam growled, you wrapped your arms around his neck, clawing at his shoulders. “Ssyes teyam, sgood,” you slurred your words, feeling the waves of euphoria begin to roll inside of you again.

His thrusts started to become faster, and your mind began going numb. Your cunt clenched around him as your eyes welled with tears. “Teyam, p-please. Please!" You stuttered between moans and whimpers. Neteyam wrapped a hand around your neck, squeezing softly. "That’s my girl,” his praise made you whimper for more. His cock was throbbing inside you, his seed threatening to spill at any moment. "Louder, yawne. Everyone has to know you’re all mine," he growled into your ear, putting emphasis on 'mine’. Your entire body was going limp beneath him.

Neteyam removed his hand from your neck, wrapping his arm underneath your legs, spreading them as far as they could go and angling you so that he hit the sensitive bundle of nerves inside you, pounding against it rapidly. Your vision started to turn blurry and you felt yourself begin to fall over the edge again, a new kind of wave washing over you, “F-Fuck! Tey- teyam- please in for me!"

Your cunt clamped down around him, forcing Neteyam to cry out, his thrusts becoming shallow and erratic. You could feel Neteyam release inside of you, ropes of hot cum filling your insides, mixing with your own fluids.

The sound of a twig snapping nearby pulled you both out of your haze, “Neteyam!” Jake’s booking voice echoed around the beach. Both of your heads shot to the left, staring at the mortified father whose eyes were boring into you. Oh, you were completely fucked.

✦•······················•✦•······················•✦

The walk of shame you both endured was the most humiliating moment of your entire life. It was an excruciating silent trip back home but at the very least Jake waited until you boarded the helicopter, with a traumatized look on his face, before he called your mother. Without a doubt he told Neytiri soon after and you could only imagine her utter rage. Norm and Max said nothing, opting to stare out the window and dissociate from the entire situation completely. You were extremely grateful for their silence.

You couldn’t imagine the scolding he was about to receive, the punishment he was going to endure. Your mom, although mortified, let you off the hook easily. No avatar for another month, and no Neteyam for the rest of eternity. That one hurt, you felt the same soul crushing despair as you did when he first left.

On the other side of Pandora Neteyam remained completely unphased. He took the yelling, the punishment and everything else like a strong man. In the end he had won, you were covered in his scent and no one was going to touch you again. As for your future together? He had a plan for that too. Neteyam had already practically mated with you no matter what his mother said and once you’re in that new body, he would run away and do it again.

You may not realize it yet but he was coming back for you. One way or another you were going to come to the reef with him, be a part of his family, bear his children, and never ever leave his side again. Even if it meant disappointing his parents one final time, but he had hope in Ewya that would not be the case.