#thanks for asking about it it holds a special place in my heart and i kills me that i can't post chapters of it like i could with a fic ;^;

[seithr]

top 5 blazblue character designs

YIPPEE BLAZBLUE

I feel like my tastes are known but I still will take this chance to gush a bit about the characters and design philosophy of em that Ive always been real fond of :)

No particular order here or else I'll be here all night formatting on mobile. More under the cut!

HAKUMEN it goes without saying I LOVE HAKUMEN'S DESIGN SO MUCH. The taloned tabi, the silhouette of wide pants and closefitted shinguards/torso. The faces/eyes scattered across his armour while the face is totally blank—made more unreadable and inhuman by the slats of neck guard. Fox-ears built into the helm shape to feel both animal and mechanical like antennae...and obviously the longass hair to sell the "tailed" look.

I remember reading really early on into liking BlazBlue—I can't remember the source, come maul me if I'm wrong—I read that Hakumen as a character and design was made when Mori was in middle or highschool, the idea of "what is really cool," and much of those ideas stayed. I not only really respect that and think its charming as someone who still likes MY own designs from that time, but, as it turns out, middle schoolers are still right. Hakumen is very cool. Augh. Fucking? Time travelling fox-robot samurai who's here to kill his brother to save him and also himself because his old self wanted to do the same thing for the wrong reason and thay thought disgusts him. Also him and Tsubaki in general make me start to choke (positive). God ok I have four more guys to discuss. Yes i also like Susanoo but I feel like thats a copout, I like that he's both animalistic and brutal martial arts as the God of War. Anyways CONTINUING

VALKENHAYN R HELLSING I will admit that he is an old man in a suit and that speaks to me but that he's one of the strongest beings alive as a old man in a suit ohh. And he's a werewolf ohhhh. Shifting just his body parts to kick and rip with his claws, quickly leaping back and forth between a normal bone-breaking jab or knee or biting and snarling—the dance between raw force and refined precision and a brutal tear's always been sooo cool to see and think about. I also think his ribbon in his hair moving to his wolfy tail is very cute. A man of sharp extremes from refined to flashing his fangs, human and wolf, cool and very cute. I like him :)

TSUBAKI YAYOI her uniform is so nice uruururururugh. Big cape and the way it drapes around her in combat like wings... Her sword and buckler/Izayoi looking so unique for being a "basic sword and shield for the hero"-type of deal! The eye on her hat's always been really striking too—the only "cold" colours being her and her uniforms eyes.....................Sparing a glance at Hakumen's recurring red eyes for no reason here. Knightly angel women and her flower-like "tassets" hanging off her clothes. Its a uniform which plausibly feels like it could be a uniform—she doesn't have anything uniquely "hers" or "for this female character" while still being really standout and clean. Her design's just really good guys. You can do so much.

Really want to mention her masked look too at least really quick here. my girllllll...

RAGNA THE BLOODEDGE well of course I really like his design. Yeah him being here is partially obligation because I love his character a lot but both things inform each other in the end. Mr Grim Reaper, Enemy of the World, red-and-black with a demon's arm on one side and a rebuilt one on the other. His big red coat and the oversize shoulders! The massive baggy pants—I love the silhouette he has. Blood Scythe/Aramasa/His sword transforming and able to clack around and shift's just. Always been such a cool design. Seithr-powered man, devil-smoke powered man, ashes of your own old dead self-powered man. Ragna is fucking cool auauauuuaghrhg.

And it DOES only make it more charming that he has a good heart, has a bit of a Kicked Puppy charm about him if you can pardon uhh that implication. He is just some fucking guy and he likes barbecues. He is sweet and cares for stray cats. His dad is a cat. He blows up the government regularly. He's a rebel who visually looks really clean if "intentionally trying to look like someone you should think is cool", which is both dork-charming and cute and also actually yeah cool because it's not a visual mess.

I like that his arm underneath is all belts and bandaged—Bloodedge only wearing half his coat for example is such a good look and it shows his clean black shirt underneath, which feels a lot like... Under that big eyecatching rebel coat of his (personality), Ragna's... Ragna, I don't know. I hope that makes sense. Knowing his personality makes me like his design a lot more than if I didn't I think.

As mentionned in Hakumen's block of text however: I already really like chuuni-ass designs, so combined in Ragna he makes me unwell entirely.

And last (I am running out of images allowed per post :((((( )

Kitty peepaw. I am cheating slightly here. I like the Kaka Kittens' big hoods too and think they're very cute and very eyecatching and I adore them always—the kittens especially being stompy little things that travel in packs are really cute. I love that Jubei, actual strongest thing in the world, has the oversized paw sleeves too. There's cat claws bigger than his body stored in what looks like emo kids' oversize hoodie sleeves. He's so simple and still the imagery of that coat gets reused several times over and it looks good every time. Orange kitty peepaw. AND he has an eyepatch, how can I not like eyepatches.

There are my 5 favourite BlazBlue designs :> Sorry if them all being C series or smth is boring wauh. I can spend as long as I want thinkinh about it but I do always seem to come back to these guys, give or take one change depending on the mood. Unchanging faves are Hakumen and Tsubaki for sure and forever though.

[uhbasicallyjustmilex]

favorite song of hamburg

i’m assuming that autocorrect is responsible for changing humbug to hamburg, and that you’re not actually asking what my favourite german songs are 😂 in which case:

crying lightning has to come top for me because it’s probably the song that got me to fall in love with am in the first place. i will never forget hearing it for the first time and just being absolutely captivated by the sardonic, witty unease of the lyrics and alex’s delivery of them. the atmosphere of the whole song resonated with me in ways i’d never seen expressed anywhere outside my own heart. it’s just - yeah i don’t even know how to put into words or describe it adequately. such a special song for me 💖 it was also so inspiring to me and helped me tap back into my own creative voice, because it was almost like hearing that song and how it expressed things in a way that felt so much like the way i experience things creatively - idk, it was almost like it gave me permission and freedom to access that part of myself again. god this has been such a ramble and probably makes zero sense because i haven’t really tried to articulate it before, sorry!

honourable mentions to the jeweller’s hands (its magic is truly unlike anything else), fire and the thud, and my propellor 💜

[timeturner-jay]

For the ask game, how about your favorite Persona 3 character? (This is cheating but I'm curious lol)

Hehe, definitely Minato on my end then, too! ;D

who? | only know their name | loathe | ugh | overrated | indifferent | dead | alive | secret third thing? | just okay | cute | badass | my baby | hot | want to marry | favorite 

And lmao, I'm glad we're in agreement about the things we highlighted for him, too! He deserves all the best things. (Which makes his fate all the more tragic, hahaha ouch. But at the same time... It does feel like the perfect ending to his story, doesn't it? :') )

[secret-third-thing]

You prioritizing three courts and then possibly adding more to the future really gives me video game vibes! Like the other courts are DLCs and the first three courts are main game campaign? I just thought that was cool :)

HEHE I'm glad it does give video game vibes b/c I am a game developer IRL and have been thinking about this based on the games I've made and played.

In an ideal world, I'd love to create this uber complicated, interwoven story a la Dragon Age or BG3, but I know that this is not an ideal world and I am just a solo writer, programmer, and producer on this story. And I am cursed with many wips.

I am not 100% on the format/structure at the moment, but I think what you're suggesting is likely what will happen. There's going to be a main throughline but you'll have three lenses (aka the courts) to use to explore the main narrative.

If I have the time/energy + people are interested I would totally consider adding other courts as potential lenses!!!

[riisume]

hewwo! i see that you’re into fire emblem and was wondering which games you’ve played? or your fave characters/ships? 👀

Hiiii! I haven't played too many games sadly. Only Awakening, FE3H(Didn't get past my Blue Lions playthrough but I made a good dent in it!), and a little bit of Fates. 😭Awakening was my first game and I'm too nervous to play the older ones, I'm REALLY bad at tactical RPGs and permadeath stresses me out, haha! But I'll totally list my favourite characters and ships from at least Awakening and 3H! I don't know as much about Fates as I'd like to- I love FE for the shipping and characters- Tbh it's the only reason I play the games, hehe.... I'm so sorry this might look a little long- * = Super fave Awakening Characters: -Lucina* -M!Morgan* -F!Morgan* -Ricken -Henry -Lon'qu -M!Robin -F!Robin Ships: -M!Robin/Lucina* -Henry/Ricken -Ricken/Nowi -Inigo/Lucina -Chrom/Robin(both) Three Houses Characters: (I'm a big Blue Lions fan, I'll try and not put everyone from there, LOL!) -Felix*** -Ingrid -Flayn -Dedue -Ashe -Jeralt -Ignatz -Linhardt -Seteth Ships: -Sylvain/Felix* -Sylvain/Felix/Ingrid -Felix/Ashe -Caspar/Ashe And I don't ship this, but I love Flayn and Felix shenanigans, I'd love to write about them sometime!

[demon-road-musings]

Hey, sorry it's been a while since i read the books and i cant find anything online, did amber save glen?

pls tell me i cant afford the books right now

CW SPOILERS BELOW!!!!

Amber does save Glen! She goes to hell (where Glen is, due to him being a vampire) and finds his soul imprisoned there. She also runs into Imelda's soul there and they talk and then she brings Glen's soul back to earth, where he is then a vampire and helps milo and amber on their missions. If youd like a full summary of the last book, I'd be totally down to summarise for you, because that's only a small side quest in it (although the post might be long because I'm not good at being concise). I was so so happy to see glen back though, I think hes such an integral part of the team and him dying messed me up so much when I first read the books. Justice for Glen!!!

[parfaitblogs]

hii, can I please ask a blurb of post prison spencer and shy reader? And sometimes he teases her but not out of malice? Like when she talks about something and doesn't look at anyone in the eyes to focus on what she's saying (that's what I do) and he moves his head in her sight so their eyes meet?

spencer reid x shy!reader. fluff/comfort. 0.6k words. post prison reid. use of "sweet girl". 

a/n: i wrote this in like ten minutes tops because there is something sooo special to me about comfort spencer. i literally loved writing this. i was giggling and kicking MY OWN feet. i'm all for angsty!doesn't know how to accept love after prison spencer, but i also need us to start the movement of fluffy!literally worships the ground you walk on after prison because you show him so much love and support he doesn't know what else to do spencer. i love him and you for this request thank u

spencer reid who likes to listen to you talk when he gets out of prison, because talking sometimes seems like too much for him. who will sit down with you on the couch that is so perfectly moulded for your two bodies, and let you talk your entire way through whatever movie he agreed to watch for you because you always talk better when your eyes are fixated on a screen.

spencer reid who will wordlessly nod along when you start talking about your day when you're in bed together, using your rambling as a distraction from the things that keep him awake at night. whose hands will probably be running through your hair while you talk animatedly with your hands, eyes staring up at the ceiling.

spencer reid who will go into the bathroom with you because "showering alone is so boring" and "i need someone to talk to!" who will then sit outside the shower and listen to you talk some more, a shower curtain separating your two bodies as you stare at the tiled wall in front of you, hands preoccupied with shampooing your hair. spencer reid who will sit with you in his lap in the study, arms around your waist. who will answer your questions about prison because you say them with such a softness he learns he cannot keep secrets from you. and there are stars in your eyes that tugs at his heart strings every time something he says upsets you. whether it be the things he did to survive or something as mundane as his daily routine that was so vastly different to your own. and because you never look at him, but when he talks you do, and he would do anything to keep your eyes fixated on him for longer.

spencer reid who will then ask you a question about your own time alone whilst he was in prison, watching as you avert your eyes almost instantly from him, staring at whatever you could pretend was interesting behind him. who’d entangle a hand in your hair as you speak, you not thinking anything of it until he is tugging on it to pull your hair back – so, so gently, because you had learned that even after prison, he treats you with the care one would treat chinaware. spencer reid who will raise an eyebrow when you stare at him silently in confusion, convincing you to keep speaking, only to slide his hand from your hair on the back of your head to your jaw, fingers tilting your head towards him because "you keep looking away from me, sweet girl. stop it."

spencer reid who will be so confused when you stammer out a response, losing all ability to speak because he's looking at you like that and his eyes are boring holes into your own, and your heart is fluttering and you're flustered and he realises why you never look at him. and he thinks it is so funny because "i've been your boyfriend for how many years?" and you protest that he must be an awful profiler if he's never noticed this before. and so he will poke your sides until you're a laughing mess, and then he will get all serious and hold your face in place and tell you to continue, rewarding you with a kiss on some part of your face every time you manage to get a sentence out, until the reward is so nice you're rambling like you usually do, but this time you're looking at him and he is so, so in love with you and he has to actively fight the urge to kiss you every half a second. and screw prison and screw trauma, because for a brief moment he decides it was all worth it to get you right here, right now.

your reblogs and replies are always appreciated dearly ♡

[gay-dorito-dust]

Hey um if it's cool could I request, Welt, Dan Heng, Jing Yuan, Gallager and Aventurine reacting to reader to questioning their interest in them?

An example: The confession

Them: I have feelings for you Reader: ... Um *shocked*.. I feel the same but.. *trails off* Them: but? Reader: *squints* you sure? About me? Please reconsider your choice. Them: ...

thank you if you decide to do this! No pressure though!

Jing yuan would raise a brow before vaguely asking you to come with him somewhere he had been meaning to show you for a while and thought that now was the perfect time.

The place where he takes you was just like any other flower garden you’ve been to before but from the way the light glinted off of the waters surface, to the way the flowers blossomed in a variety of unique colours, and other small things like that made the flower garden look ethereal.

Jing yuan chuckled at your expression.

‘You see why I brought you here?’ He asks.

‘…no, not really, why?’ You replied, looking at him in confusion.

‘I’m trying to show you that while you may not think yourself as anything special, much like this flower garden, there are a multitude of unique things tailored to you that make you shine in the eyes of the ones who views you highly.’ He responded as he lends his hand out for a bird to perch on and softly smiled as it moved up to his shoulder where it sat comfortably, trying its hardest not to fall asleep.

‘For every flower is a beauty to behold regardless of their shapes, their size or their colour that even a daffodil can be considered of equal beauty of a roses in someone’s eyes.’ Jing Yuan continues, looking at you from the corner of his eye to see whether his words were sinking in. ‘And my flower believes themself to be a withering daffodil but to me, they’re a rose unlike any other. Stubborn, strong willed, but.’

‘But?’ You echoed, nervousness creeping through your veins as Jing Yuan moved in front of you and leant forward so that he was right next to your ear.

‘But they refuse to accept words of their worth and beauty from someone who cares about them very much, but I hope to change that soon enough, if they let me.’ He whispers as he presses a kiss to your cheek and pulling away to plant a kiss to your forehead.

Dan heng

While he’s happy that you felt the same way towards him, but felt his heart sink when you told him to reconsider his feelings for you.

‘If you are not ready for a relationship, then I understand, but I wish that you wouldn’t look down upon yourself when you’re anything but what your mind is telling you that you are.’ He says as he holds your face, thumbs caressing your cheeks as his eyes shone with concern. ‘Just know that I’ll always be by your side to resolve any issue you may have, for I do not wish for you to be burdened by this alone when I can help lessen it’s impact on you.’ He adds.

Dan Heng would do anything and everything in his power to make you see just how much you meant to him, even if it meant asking March to pull up pictures where his infatuation with you was glaringly obvious.

He would bring you poetry books and read out verses that perfectly describe his innermost thoughts and feelings towards you and how he views you on a daily basis. Dan Heng feels as though he could never convey just how truly unique and magnificent you were on his own. He’s tried but compared to the works of acclaimed poets, it just lacked fluidity in terms of the flow of words.

Everything else fades away when you entered his peripheral vision, almost as though he was made to notice your presence no matter where you were, only to just stare at you with a look that could only be akin to someone who had just found their other half after so long.

Welt would sit you down somewhere and want to talk about it because he truly didn’t think that these were your own words coming from your mouth.

He believes they were someone else’s and he hated that you had started believing this person’s words as reality, when they were the furthest thing from the truth in his eyes.

He wants to help you unlearn what everybody else has thought of you in the past because it doesn’t matter, their words hold no weight until you allow it to. No one’s perception of you was in any way shape or form a reflection of the real you, for every person you’ve ever had a positive effect on posses a different perceptions of you.

The only person who knew the real you was you but it was obvious to Welt that you might’ve forgotten who that version of you was by worrying yourself to death about the thoughts and opinions of everyone else. So Welt was more then happy to help you see that you were so much more then what you think.

He doesn’t know who wronged you in the past but they’ve left everlasting damage on your tender soul, but he was going to do everything he could in his power to show you the you that he sees every time upon seeing you.

Gallagher

‘I’ve got nothing to reconsider when it comes to you sweetheart.’ Gallagher was quick to tell you as he grabbed one of your hands, squeezing it. ‘Nothing at all.’

‘But-‘ you started.

‘No ifs, ands or buts.’ He interrupts you. ‘You’re prefect the way you are and I won’t hear otherwise because I’ll always go out of my way to remind you as to why i care about you, okay?’ He says as he lifted your hand to press a kiss to the back of it. ‘Just let me take care of you and get rid of those pesky thoughts residing in your head by telling them to fuck off.’

You couldn’t help but chuckle at this as you allowed yourself to find comfort in Gallagher’s side as you were greeted by his bodily warmth that made you into melting further against him. ‘I just don’t want to be a bother to you that’s all.’ You murmured, insecurity making your throat tightened, rendering it hard to swallow.

Gallagher felt his heart break for you as he brought his arms to your waist to rub soothing patterns into your side as he presses his face to the side of your head, pressed reassuring kisses there as he whispered sweet nothings as to why you were perfect, beautiful, sweet and caring of all whom you come across, whether they were deserving of it or not.

Aventurine

He understands more then you knew because the moment you admitted to liking him in the same breath as berating yourself, he was about to ask what was it about him that you liked exactly.

You were both in the same boat that was about to capsize from your shared self hatred for yourselves, but Aventurine would be damned if he let you think of yourself in any negative light when you’ve been nothing but a beacon of pure, genuine light for him since first introductions.

He’d much rather be the one drowning in self doubt than you.

He’d have you stand in front of a mirror and asks what you see.

‘Someone who’s lost themselves along the way,’ you answered solemnly, ‘someone who’s lost sight of who they once were because they were too caught up in the opinions of others and waiting on them hand and foot, only to revive nothing but scraps.’ You added and Aventurine couldn’t help but feel himself becoming infuriated, not at you but at the people who have made you feel as though you were lesser than, who made you feel as though you should be outcasted because you didn’t fit into their narrative.

However the sound of your sniffling brought him out of his need to get back at these people for you and saw that you were beginning to tear up and was quick to wipe them away before they fell. ‘Don’t weep for people who don’t have a heart, for they’ll always think themselves superior by materialistic means that they will inevitably loose to time and bad decisions.’ He tells you as he rests his head on your shoulder, looking at you through the mirrors reflective surface. ‘You on the other hand have something that they could never hope to obtain via money.’ He adds.

‘And what’s that?’ You asked, looking into his eyes and noting that despite their dullness, they were still the most beautiful and expressive pair of eyes you have ever seen.

‘Empathy, humility, compassion, kindness and an appreciation for the simple things that many overlook and possess the ability to see the beauty in broken things.’ Aventurine replies, his voice becoming soft towards the end, clearly referring to himself, as he held onto you tighter as though you’d slip from his grasp much like everyone else had. ‘So don’t compare yourself to others who should be looking towards you as an example instead.’

You moved your head to properly look at him, not use to seeing this side of him, so serious and determined to make you see reason. ‘You really mean that?’

Aventurine smiles as he kisses you on the nose, chuckling. ‘Of course! You’re my good luck charm, I’d be hopeless and in a whole lot of trouble without you.’ He says as he presses another kiss to your nose, adoring your expression as you scrunched up your face, muttering under his breath. ‘Cute.’

[augustinewrites]

does gojo ever freak out or worry ab reader when she’s alone on missions? obviously she can handle herself & knows what she’s doing, but he gives the vibes that he’d be internally panicking 😭

“hey, welcome back!” gojo grins, quickly shoving a half melted spatula to the bottom of the trash can. 

“hi,” you murmur, tipping the bill of your cap down as you close the door behind you. odd. he doesn’t think he’s seen you wear a hat before. 

“how was it?” he asks, flicking off the stove and closing in to welcome you properly with a kiss. well, he attempts to. you immediately take a step back, avoiding his embrace. he definitely doesn’t remember a time you’ve ever done that.

“i’m all sweaty,” you tell him, toeing your boots off and heading straight toward the bedroom. you say hello to the kids before shutting the door, the lock clicking into place. 

“are you mad at me?” he asks as soon as he warps into the room.

“satoru!” you startle, staggering back into the door. “get out!”

“nope,” he hums, closing in on you. “we sleep in the same room and you know that i don’t respect boundaries.” 

with that, he reaches over and pulls the baseball cap off your head. 

“satoru, please don’t freak out—”

he freaks out. 

he grabs your chin so you can’t turn away, inspecting the sutures lining your temple. “this is deep! are you okay? why were you hiding it from me?”

you swat his hand away, frowning. “i’m fine, and i wasn’t hiding it. i just didn’t want the kids to see. speaking of, did you guys eat dinner yet?”

“what grade curse was it?”

“special. i thought i smelled something burning—”

“you’re only grade one. why would they—”

“only grade one?” you repeat with a scoff. “don’t say it like that. you know the only reason i’m not special grade is because the zenin’s—”

“because the zenin’s are holding you back until you join them. they’re dicks, babe. that’s old news,” he finishes, tapping his foot impatiently. 

“listen,” you tell him, pinching the bridge of your nose. “i just didn’t get out of the way fast enough. it’s just a cut. i’ve had worse.” 

“well, next time they call you up for assignment, i’m coming with you,” he decides. “we’ll get a sitter for the kids and make it like a date night.”

“whoa,” you interrupt. “you’re inviting yourself on my assignments now? “do you think i’m not good enough?”

“well when you come home hurt, yeah!” 

he regrets it as soon as he says it. 

and he hates the way you’re looking at him. you’re hurt, and it shows. “wow. thanks for the vote of confidence.” 

“hey…”

he says your name, reaching for your hand, but you pull away, shaking your head.

_____

freshly showered and changed, you pull your robe on, exiting the bathroom. gojo’s sitting on the bed, waiting with his head in his hands.

“you know i think you’re more than capable,” he says quietly. “i wasn’t making a dig at your skill. you’re incredible.” 

“i know,” you hum, dumping your uniform into the basket. 

he looks up at you, apologetic. “but if anything happened to you, and you were really hurt…it would be my fault.”

“that’s not true,” you say quickly, sitting beside him. 

“it is,” he insists. “and i could never forgive myself, because i’m supposed to be the strongest.” 

(and what’s the point of being the strongest if he couldn’t protect the people he loved most?)

“satoru,” you murmur, smoothing a hand across his back. “you have such a big heart. i’m dating you because of your heart— well, mostly your abs but also your heart. ou already take on so much for everyone. and i need you to trust that i can’t take care of myself. i don’t want to be another burden to you.”

wordlessly, he takes your hand and presses it to his chest, so you can feel his heartbeat. 

“you are my whole heart. if i lost you and i could have stopped it, like i could’ve stopped—” he purses his lips, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment. “i just can’t lose you.” 

“and you won’t,” you promise, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “now let’s go have dinner.”

“ah. about that….”

_____

“alright, dinner’s served!”

you the kids exchange a look.

megumi leans close to you, whispering, “can we get sick from this?”

“go on,” satoru encourages, picking up his own sandwich. “it’s a spam sandwich! i used to eat these all the time before i met—”

“you’re really lucky you met her,” the twelve year old grumbles, peeling the bread back to look at the burnt piece of spam.

tsumiki, ever the people pleaser, takes a bite and chews very thoroughly before swallowing with great effort.

“um…the smoke added a nice hickory flavour to the spam.”

“okay, we’re getting pizza,” you decide, shooting your boyfriend an apologetic look.

[newobsessionweekly]

She's my wife

Main masterlist | The Rookie masterlist

Tim Bradford x wife!reader Fandom: The Rookie

Summary: You are Tim's wife and join him to the station for the day, looking for a Metro recruit.

Fluff

A/N: I loooove this, I start to love writing fluff. Thank you for this request. I have so many ideas and I don't know where to start. Also, I'm looking forward to your requests. Thank you for your support and your feedback is more than welcomed and appreciated! Have a wonderful day, bubs and enjoy this story! Lots of love

Warnings: None, pure fluff, not proofread yet

Requested: Yes! Words: 3.8k Photo not mine, credits to the owner @renegadesstuff !

The familiar scent of stale coffee and printer ink hits you as soon as you step through the doors of the station. It's been years since you last set foot in that place, but the memories come rushing back with startling clarity. The station hasn't changed much—it's still a hive of activity, with officers rushing to and fro, phones ringing off the hook, and the occasional burst of laughter echoing through the halls.

As you make your way through the bustling room, you can't help but feel a pang of nostalgia. This place holds so many memories for you—the late nights spent poring over case files, the adrenaline-fueled chases through the city streets, the quiet moments of comradery with your fellow officers. It feels like a lifetime ago, yet the memories are as vivid as ever.

You pause for a moment to take it all in, your gaze sweeping over the familiar surroundings. The bullpen, with its rows of desks and cluttered bulletin boards, holds a special place in your heart. It's where you once stood as a training officer, guiding rookies through their first days on the job.

Tim Bradford was your favorite and a handful from the start—a troubled rookie who struggled to follow orders and grasp the basics of the job. You remember the frustration of trying to teach him the ropes, the countless hours spent drilling him on the rookie book, only for him to push back and resist at every turn.

You remember the determination in Tim's eyes, the way he refused to give up even when the odds seemed stacked against him. And despite his rebellious nature, there was something about him—a spark of raw talent and an unwavering sense of loyalty—that set him apart from the rest.

But amidst the nostalgia, there's a sense of purpose driving you forward. You're here on official business, after all— you were sent there to find a new recruit to join Metro. And while part of you wishes you could stay lost in the memories of the past, another part knows that you have a job to do.

You're greeted by familiar faces at every turn. The joy radiating from your former colleagues as they see you again warms your heart, and you can't help but return their smiles with genuine affection.

Among the crowd, you notice Tim watching you from across the room, his expression a mix of confusion and curiosity. You shoot him a reassuring smile, silently promising to explain everything later.

Lucy stands beside Tim, a look of bewilderment on her face. "Who's that?" she whispers to Tim, nodding in your direction.

Tim's brow furrows for a moment as he studies you, then he turns back to Lucy with a shrug. "That's Y/N," he answers simply. "She works with Metro."

Lucy's eyes widen in surprise, her gaze darting back and forth between you and Tim. "What's she doing here?" she asks, her curiosity piqued.

Tim gives a nonchalant shrug, trying to downplay the situation. "No clue," he replies, though a hint of curiosity lingers in his tone. "Maybe she's just passing through."

As Tim watches you from across the room, a wave of warmth washes over him. Seeing you here, in the midst of his workplace, brings back a flood of memories—of late-night patrols, of shared laughter, of the bond you forged as rookie and TO. Despite the hustle and bustle of the station, his attention is drawn solely to you, his heart skipping a beat at the sight of your beauty.

It's an understatement that he adores you. He loves you with every breath, every heart beat and he couldn't get enough of you. Since you were recruited for Metro, he missed you every shift, longing for you to make his duties more bearable.

There's a softness in his eyes as he approaches, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. Despite the secrecy surrounding your relationship, seeing you there fills him with a sense of comfort and belonging. In that moment, surrounded by the chaos of the station, all that matters is the connection you share—a bond that transcends the boundaries of your professional lives.

"Hey there," he greets you warmly, "What are you doing here?"

Seeing him there, in his element, reminds you of the journey you've taken together—from a rookie and his training officer to partners in both crime and love.

You return Tim's smile with one of your own, your eyes twinkling with mischief. "Oh, you know, just thought I'd drop by and say hi," you reply casually, purposely avoiding his question. "How's your day been?"

There's a twinkle in your eye as you meet his gaze, a silent acknowledgment of the love and understanding that binds you together. Despite the complexities of your situation, there's an unspoken agreement between you—a shared understanding of the sacrifices you've made for the sake of your relationship.

Tim chuckles at your playful evasion, rolling his eyes. "Smooth as always," he replies, though there's a hint of amusement in his tone. "But seriously, what are you doing here?"

You feign innocence, batting your eyelashes at Tim with exaggerated sweetness. "You know I can't tell you." you tease, knowing full well that your response will only fuel his curiosity further.

Tim lets out a mock sigh, shaking his head in amusement. "Fine, keep your secrets," he says with a playful grin. "But just remember, I know where you sleep at night."

You laugh at his playful threat, leaning in to give him a quick peck on the cheek. "Wouldn't dream of it," you reply with a wink, before turning your attention to Lucy, who's been watching the exchange with interest.

A curious expression played on her face as Tim takes the opportunity to introduce you. "Officer Chen, meet Y/N," he says, gesturing to you with a fond smile. "She's a pain in the ass sometimes, but if you ignore her, she's ok."

"Nice to meet you, Lucy," you say, your tone friendly and inviting as you offered Lucy a warm smile, extending your hand in greeting. "I've heard so much about you."

Lucy returns your smile, her curiosity piqued. "Nice to meet you," she replies, shaking your hand. "How do you know Tim, if you don't mind me asking?"

You glance at Tim with a mischievous twinkle in your eye, a playful smirk playing at your lips. "Oh, you know," you reply cryptically, earning a raised eyebrow from Tim. "We go way back. Let's just say he owes me a few favors."

Tim lets out an exasperated sigh, knowing full well that you're enjoying teasing him. "Don't listen to her, Chen," he says with a chuckle.

"You should listen to me if you want to survive him." you winked at his rookie " I created the monster and I'm the only one who knows how to defeat him."

Tim's eyebrows shoot up in mock indignation, his lips curling into a playful smirk. "Hey now, watch it," he retorts, feigning offense. "I'll have you know, she doesn't need any help from you."

You laugh at Tim's exaggerated reaction, shooting him a knowing look. "Oh, I'm sure Lucy can handle herself just fine," you reply with a wink, earning a chuckle from Lucy.

"Wait–" the rookie began as realisation hits "You are Tim's TO?"

You glanced at your husband, smiling brightly as he put his grumpy expression on, "Guilty as charged."

As Lucy's eyes widen in shock and excitement, she can barely contain her enthusiasm. Her mind is racing with questions as she tries to process the realization that she's standing face-to-face with the legendary training officer.

The rookie turns to Tim, her expression incredulous. "You never mentioned her before!" she exclaims.

Tim crossed his arms above his chest, a hint of irritation creeping into his voice. "Because my life is none of your business, Officer Chen," he retorts.

She faced you with a barrage of questions, her enthusiasm didn't wane, "What was Tim like as a rookie? I heard he wasn't so keen on following orders, is it true?"

You smiled at her, starting to like her more and more. She's definitely giving Tim a hard time. What you know from Tim and seeing her so curious and exited, you knew she has what it takes to be a successful cop.

Before you can respond, Tim interrupts, his irritation growing by the second. "Alright, that's enough, Chen," he barks, his tone firm and commanding. "Shop, now!"

"Yes, sir."

Lucy's excitement fades as she reluctantly obeys Tim's orders, shooting you an apologetic look before hurrying off to prepare for the patrol. As she disappears from view, Tim lets out a frustrated sigh, the grumpiness lifting slightly as he turns back to you.

"She seems nice," you comment, nodding towards where Lucy disappeared. "She's a good kid."

Tim sighs, running a hand through his hair as he considers your words. "Yeah, you're probably right," he admits, his voice tinged with uncertainty.

You reach out to gently squeeze his hand, a reassuring smile playing on your lips. "I know, and I know that sometimes a little kindness goes a long way," you say gently. "She'll appreciate it in the long run."

As Tim gazes at you, a mixture of admiration and gratitude flickers in his eyes. He's more than just a grumpy, hard-to-please man—he's a devoted husband, a dedicated cop, and a man who carries the weight of the world on his shoulders. Despite his tough exterior, there's a vulnerability in his gaze.

The sun filters through the windows of the station, its golden rays dance across Tim's face, casting a warm glow that accentuates his rugged features. He appears even more handsome in this moment, his chiseled jawline and piercing gaze illuminated by the soft light.

His sandy blonde hair catches the sunlight, creating a halo of golden warmth around his head. His eyes, usually sharp and focused, soften in the gentle light, revealing a depth of emotion that takes your breath away.

As Tim searched your face, you're bathed in a soft, ethereal glow, the sunlight highlighting the delicate contours of your face and the warmth of your smile. Your eyes, a mesmerizing shade, sparkle with mischief and warmth, drawing him in like a moth to a flame.

He peaked around at the officers, everyone minding their business, before he leaned in, his warm breath caressing your skin, sending shivers down your spine. His hand gently cups your cheek, his touch tender yet possessive, as if he never wants to let you go. You feel the soft brush of his lips against yours, a gentle yet insistent pressure that ignites a fire deep within your soul.

As the kiss deepens, you feel his other hand slide around your waist, pulling you closer until there's barely an inch of space between you. His touch is electrifying, sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body as you melt into his embrace.

His lips move against yours with a hunger that matches your own, each kiss a testament to the love and longing that burns between you. There's a raw intensity to his touch, a desperate need to be as close to you as humanly possible.

For a brief instant, time seems to stand still as you respond eagerly, your heart racing as you lean into the kiss, savoring the warmth of his embrace. Despite its brevity, the intensity of the moment leaves you dizzy with desire, longing for more even as you reluctantly pull away.

Before the moment can linger, Tim's attention is drawn to something behind you. With a quick glance over your shoulder, you realize that Lucy is watching from afar, a curious expression on her face, sided by her mouth forming an "o" shape filled with surprise.

Tim's lips curl into a wry smile as he leans in to murmur in your ear, his voice barely above a whisper. "Looks like we've got a little shadow," he says, amusement dancing in his eyes. "She's gonna be a pain in my ass all day!"

You laugh softly at Tim's comment, shaking your head in amusement. "Well, you did sign up for this when you became her TO," you tease, a playful glint in your eyes. "Just be nice, okay? She's just curious."

Tim rolls his eyes at your advice, but there's a hint of affection in his gaze as he gazes at you. "Fine, I'll try to play nice," he concedes with a grin. "But no promises if she starts asking too many questions."

As your husband heads off for patrol with Lucy, you find yourself seated across from Sergeant Grey in his office, the familiar surroundings offering a sense of comfort amidst the chaos of the precinct. His office is tidy yet lived-in, with stacks of paperwork neatly organized on his desk and a few personal mementos scattered about—a photo of his family, a commendation plaque from his years of service.

Wade offers you a warm smile as you settle into your seat, "Y/N, it's been a while. Think the last time I saw you was at your wedding?"

You nod in agreement, "It hasn't been that long. But you know Metro, it keeps me busy."

"Well, it's always a pleasure to have you around." Sergeant Grey's words of praise for your time as an officer at the station warm your heart, "You were one of the best we had," he continues, sincerity evident in his tone. "It's a shame to lose you to Metro."

As the conversation progresses, you take a deep breath before broaching the subject of your visit. "Sir, I'm here on official business," you explain, your tone serious. "Metro is recruiting, and I'm here to find the best officer for the job."

Grey nods in understanding, "I see. And do you have anyone in mind?" he asks, leaning forward slightly.

You hesitate for a moment before responding. "Actually, I do," you admit, your gaze meeting his. "I think Officer Bradford would be the best fit for Metro."

He considers your words for a moment before responding. "I have to say, I agree with you, Tim would make an excellent addition to Metro."

There's a hint of hesitation in your eyes as he speaks, and you can tell that he senses there's more to your recommendation than meets the eye. "Is there something else on your mind, Y/N?" he asks, his tone gentle but probing.

You paused, choosing your words carefully before responding. "Well, sir, it's just... I'm not sure if it's appropriate for me to recommend Tim," you admit, your voice tinged with uncertainty. "I don't want it to seem like a conflict of interests."

You found yourself grappling with a mix of emotions. There's a deep-rooted sense of pride your work, coupled with a genuine desire to see Tim succeed in his career.

"Trust me, Y/N, Officer Bradford's qualifications speak for themselves." he leaned back on his chair, "Don't worry about it. I'll handle it from here. We both know you and Tim keep your private life apart, and I'll make sure Metro knows this decision is based solely on Tim's achievements."

Sergeant Grey's words sink in, a rush of relief floods through you, washing away some of the anxiety that had been gnawing at your nerves. It's comforting to know that your integrity as an officer won't be called into question, that your personal connection with Tim won't overshadow his merits.

With a grateful smile, you nod in appreciation, the knot of worry in your stomach loosening with each word he speaks. "Thank you, Sir."

"Now go find your husband!"

In the dimly lit interior of the shop, the tension between Tim and Lucy was palpable. Lucy's curiosity burned bright, fueled by suspicions and unanswered questions.

"So..." Lucy ventured, breaking the uneasy silence. "I saw you and Y/N kissing, back at the station. Is she your girlfriend?"

Tim's jaw clenched at the inquiry, his gaze fixed on the road ahead. "That's none of your business, Chen," he shot back, his tone gruff.

Lucy persisted, undeterred by his dismissive tone. "Come on, Tim," she pressed. "You can't just brush this off. I obviously know there's something going on between you two."

But Tim remained stoic, his frustration simmering beneath the surface. "I said it's none of your business," he repeated, his voice terse.

Lucy gaze lingered on him, studying his face. She couldn't read anything but irritation caused by her intrusion into his private life. She searched his hands, no sight of any ring, so the possibility of you being his wife dropped.

"Do you like her?" she insisted.

"What's the proper procedure for securing a crime scene?" he replied to her question, avoiding giving any details about you.

"Come on. You can't avoid this forever. Are you and her just colleagues, or is there something more?"

Tim's irritation simmers beneath the surface, his frustration mounting with each passing moment. He had hoped to avoid this line of questioning, to keep his personal life separate from his professional one. But Lucy's relentless curiosity had pushed him to his breaking point.

"What's the recommended procedure for securing a firearm during an arrest?"

She couldn't shake the feeling of defeat, knowing deep down that Tim wouldn't give her the answers she sought. Despite her best efforts to uncover the truth about Tim's relationship with you, she found herself hitting a dead end.

"I saw the way you look at her. You have feelings for her?"

"When searching a suspect, what areas of their body should you prioritize for pat-downs?"

"Fine. I'll shut up."

Confusion clouded Lucy's thoughts as she struggled to make sense of the situation. She couldn't understand why Tim was so guarded about his personal life, especially when it came to someone who seemed to hold such significance to him. It left her feeling unsettled, a nagging sense of curiosity gnawing at her.

As he focuses on the road ahead, he can't help but feel annoyed by Lucy's persistence. He knows she means well, but he's not ready to share the intimate details of his relationship with the woman he loves. He just wants to focus on their job, to keep their partnership strictly professional.

As lunchtime approached, the bustling street food area near the station came to life with the sound of chatter and the aroma of sizzling food. Amidst the crowd, you found an empty table, enjoying the inviting atmosphere, with colorful umbrellas providing shade from the midday sun as you waited for Tim.

Your husband approached the table where you were seated, a sense of defeat hung heavy in the air, exhausted from all of his rookie's questions. A small smile tugged at the corners of his lips, as he leaned down to press a soft kiss to your forehead. The warmth of his touch sent a shiver down your spine, a tangible reminder of the connection you shared.

As the conversation turns to you, Tim leans in with a curious glint in his eyes. "So, what were you doing at the station earlier?"

"Metro sent me to find a recruit," you confess, your gaze meeting Tim's.

His eyebrows shoot up in surprise. "And did you find one?"

Angela rises from her seat, flashing a smile, "I hate to break up the party, but duty calls. I'll catch you guys later."

You nod understandingly, bidding her farewell with a wave as she heads off to resume her patrol.

You return your attention to Tim, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "Yeah. You."

Tim's eyes widen in disbelief, his expression a mix of shock and excitement. "Me? Are you serious?"

Nyla's figure blended into the bustling crowd as she disappears down the street with her rookie, leaving you and Tim alone.

You give him a knowing smirk. "Dead serious. They've been considering you for a while. Sending me down to the station was just a formality—a test, to see if I was ready for a promotion or something."

"You're getting promoted?"

"Uh-huh."

"That's awesome, babe. I'm proud of you."

As the lunch break comes to an end for Tim, he and his rookie prepare to go on patrol again. They stand by the patrol car, gearing up for their shift.

"Lucy, you're driving," Tim says, tossing her the keys with a grin. "Show me what you got."

Lucy's eyes light up with excitement as she catches the keys, nodding eagerly. "You got it, Officer Bradford. Shotgun!"

While Tim is in the shop, double-checking some equipment, you lean over the car door, catching his attention. "Hey," you say softly, a hint of concern in your voice. "Be safe out there, okay? And have a good time."

Tim gives you a reassuring smile, placing a hand over yours on the door. "Always am, love. Don't worry about me."

Just as the car starts to move, you lean in closer, your voice barely a whisper against the noise of the street. "And Tim... I'm pregnant."

Tim's eyes widen in surprise, his heart skipping a beat at the unexpected news. You placed a playful kiss on his cheek, before the car pulls away, you watch Tim drive off with a mixture of excitement and fear.

You were scared of his reaction, delivering him the news this way gave you time to process and turn all the possible scenarios upside down.

He meets your gaze one last time before the car disappears down the street, a rush of emotions flooding his mind—joy, excitement, and a touch of nervousness. But above all, there's a deep sense of love and gratitude for the life you've created together.

"Did you get your TO pregnant?" Lucy asks, her tone a mixture of surprise and incredulity.

Tim's jaw tightens, a flash of irritation crossing his features at the inappropriate question. He takes a deep breath, gathering his composure before responding firmly.

"She's my wife," Tim states, his voice leaving no room for further inquiry. "Now, shut up and drive."

He reaches up to where his uniform shirt collar meets his neck, pulling out a small chain with a wedding ring and some dog tags hanging from it. It's a subtle gesture, but one that holds immense significance—a symbol of the most important moments of his life, from fighting in Iraq and Afghanistan to marrying you.

Lucy's eyes widen in realization, a flush creeping up her cheeks as she realizes her mistake. Without another word, she focuses on the road ahead, her cheeks burning with embarrassment.

Meanwhile, Tim sits back in his seat, his mind still reeling from the unexpected turn of events. Despite the initial shock, a sense of pride and excitement fills him at the prospect of becoming a father. And as the patrol car speeds through the city streets, Tim's thoughts are consumed with thoughts of the future.

[httpdwaekki]

tummy | s.c.

wc: 2.7k

summary: binnie is feeling a bit insecure about he tummy, but you’re there to tell him how much you love it.

warnings: smut 18+ (MDNI), chubbyfem!reader, tummy praise !!!, petnames, hand job (m. rec), unprotected sex (use protection!!), crying, def more, read at ur own risk!!

a/n: happy binnie day!!! happy birthday to my favorite boy <33 and of course i had to do a lil something for his tummy :3 this is week two or binnie month w @straykeedz !! special thank you to @thefantasyden for doing a quick proofread for me <33. i hope you enjoy, remember to eat, drink water and take your meds, ily <3

자기야 = honey.

my library | bee’s vers | bee | binnie month | fundraiser

(photos not mine! credit to owners!)

you love binnie’s tummy, you never let him forget it, and you touch it every chance you get.

but you had noticed a slight change in him. he was wearing less compression shirts and would tense up whenever you’d even brush his tummy. you knew what was happening, you knew the feeling all too well.

you made it your mission to make sure he knew how much you loved his tummy. and you finally got your chance.

you walk into your bedroom to find him laying on your bed, fresh out of the shower, towel wrapped around his waist. the water droplets still drying on his tan skin - his soft tummy on full display. he had his legs hanging off the front of your bed, scrolling through his phone, oblivious to your presence.

you make your way over to where he was, grabbing his attention as you climb onto the bed. he moves his phone, focusing on you as you move to lay on his tummy. you feel him tense for a moment, before he relaxes, putting his phone down next to him, giving you a soft smile.

“hi 자기야.” he whispers, placing one hand on your cheek, the other laying the cover the rest of his tummy. you feel a pang in your chest as you glance at his hand, covering his tan skin.

“hi bub.” you whisper back, placing a hand on top of the one that’s on your cheek. you look at each other for a moment before you turn your head, placing kisses across his soft tummy, feeling him tense once more

your hand still holding his, thumb brushing his fingers in a soothing motion- you sit up on your knees next to him, taking his free hand in yours.

you lean down, placing more kisses, looking up at him through your lashes as you place your lips across his plush tummy. you pull away, moving yourself to straddle him, placing his hands to your soft thighs.

you lean down to become eye level with him, place your hands on his cheeks. his eyes are wide, filled with confusion, the slightest glint of unshed tears.

“you know you’re gorgeous right?” you ask searching his eyes for any refusal. “and that i love your tummy so much, it’s one of my favorite parts of you.” the tears now prominent on his lash line, he shakes his head slighty. your heart breaks a little, you feel a familiar sting behind your eyes.

“you know how you always tell me how much you love every part of me, especially my tummy because you know i’m eating good and healthy.” he nods his head as a tear slips down his face. you quickly wipe the tear, continuing the soothing motion.

“i feel the same way about you. you’re the reason i can look at my tummy and not feel completely disgusted with myself. because i see a piece of you in myself when i look in the mirror. and i could never feel that way about you.” you feel a tear slip down your cheek, ignoring it, focusing on the man in front of you.

you lean back, quickly ridding yourself of your shirt, exposing your chubby tummy to him. leaving you in only your pink panties, feeling vulnerable under his gaze. you place his hands on either side of your waist, before continuing, “is this ugly or disgusting to you?” you ask quietly, slightly scared of the answer but you knew he needed this.

he shakes his head quickly, more tears shedding in wake of the movement. “then why is it any different from this?” you place your hands on his soft tummy.

you lean down, placing more kisses to the area, rubbing gentle circles to his sides as you do. his hands fall to your thighs once again, drawing circles on each one.

you kiss your way up his sternum, giving his pecs a few stare kisses as well before each nipple. he inhales a sharp breath as you kiss the sensitive buds.

you kiss all the way up his neck, across his jawline, each cheek before coming face to face with him. “i love you no matter what you look like,” you pause looking into his eyes, “as long as you’re happy and healthy, i don’t care if you have abs or a chubby tummy. as long as you are alive and well i will love you and your body no matter what, okay?”

his eyes are bloodshot but full of love as they look into yours. he sniffles, nodding his head before you lean down, giving him a passionate kiss. you bring one hand up to his cheek, the other staying on his tummy.

his hand moves to your cheek, pulling you impossibly closer. after a couple minutes, you pull away resting your forehead against his, both of you catching your breath.

“i love you so much.” he whispers, his chest raising and falling as he breathes. you smile pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth. “can i show you how much i love you?” you ask quietly against his skin.

he nods softly, pulling you back to his lips once more. you slowly make your way back down his body, leaving kisses as you make your way down, sparing a few extra to his tummy. you carefully kneel in front of the bed as he sits up.

you undo his towel, revealing his semi hard length, his pink tip leaking slightly. you give his thighs soft kiss each, causing him to tense, inhaling sharply, looking down at you.

you kiss your way up his thigh before grabbing his cock, give his tip a kiss. you move up, placing a kiss to his lips. “relax pretty boy,” you whisper against his lips, your thumb brushing his tip, causing him to stutter. “i got you, 자기야.” he groans into your mouth, kissing you before pulling away.

“you’re gonna be the death of me.” he sighs, leaning back on his hands. you giggle, placing kisses on body as you stroke his dick, making sure to pay extra attention to the glistening tip.

“god i love your tummy,” you say quietly into the soft flesh, picking up your movements, tightening your hand slightly.

“ah- fuck.” he hisses, throwing his head back, a hand coming up to cover his face. you grab his hand on his face, lacing his finger through yours, placing the intertwined hands on his thigh.

you feel his tummy tighten under your lips, signaling him coming closer to his release. you kiss your way up his body once, making it up to his ear, nibbling on the lobe.

“i know you close baby boy,” you kiss behind his ear, “let go.” you place a kiss to his jaw, giving extra attention to his tip, sending him tumbling into his release.

he squeezes your hand, turning his head into you as he groans, his cum spurts all over his soft tummy and your hands. you stroke him through his orgasm, his breathing heavy as he comes down from his high.

you pull away, looking at the mess he created, wasting no time bringing your hand down up to lick the salty substance off your fingers. you keep eye contact as you pull the digits out of your mouth.

“god i fucking love you.” he grabs your cheeks pulling your lips back to his. you grab the edge of the large towel, wiping his tummy before he grabs your hips, manhandling you onto his lap. you let out a noise of surprise into his mouth and as he grips your waist.

your arms wrap around his shoulder as he pulls your legs to wrap around his waist, pulling back slightly. “hold on sweet girl.” he warns but barely gives you time to react before he stands up.

he tosses the towel to the side, before laying you on the mattress. he places a kiss to the white bow on your panties, moving up to your soft tummy. mirroring exactly what you did to him, placing soft kisses over your tummy, trailing them up your sternum, placing a kiss to each peaked bud.

his arms move to cage you in, kissing up your neck and jaw, coming face to face to you. you smile, your hands coming up to lay on his biceps, turning your head to give one a kiss. “hi 자기야.” he whispers, loving eyes, flicker across your whole face.

“hi pretty boy.” you whisper back, bringing your hand up to lay against his chubby cheek. your thumb brushes his soft lips as he places a kiss to your kiss, pulling a giggle from you.

“as much as i love you worshiping my body, i thought it’s your turn this time big boy.” you lean up, placing a kiss on his soft lips. you tap his bicep, “come on.” you say against his lips.

he sighs before flipping over, laying flat on his back next to you. you sit up on your knees patting his thigh, “scoot up bub.” he complies, moving to lay against the pillows.

once he settled you moved to straddle him, your clothed core pressing against his bare semi hard cock. you lean down, hands finding his plush tummy once more as your lips find his.

you rock your hips, as your lips move against his, feeling him harden beneath your soaked panties. he has one hand positioned on your thigh, the other on your cheek, keeping you close to him.

he moaned into the kiss, kneading the soft flesh of your thigh. you pull away, sliding your thumbs into the waistband of your pink garment. you move your leg to get up but he quickly brings a hand up to stop it.

you pause looking at him, silently asking him what was wrong. “sorry-“ he gently pulls your leg back to the bed, bringing his hands to your hips. “can you just- lean back for me for a second baby.”

you listen, leaning back, placing your hands between his legs for balance. your legs spread a bit at the action, revealing the darkened spot on your panties to him.

he brings his hand up to rest on your pelvis, thumb rubbing slow circles on your clothes clit. “ah.” you sigh at the slight stimulation, your breathing picking up. he slowly picks up the pace, “look you, my sweet girl, treating me so well.” he sits up, causing you to fall back a little further.

he places kisses in the little bow on your waistband before sparing a kiss to your tummy. “my baby deserves something too, no?” his circles becoming faster and tighter, just like the coil in your belly.

“ah- bin-nie” you stutter, the more the coil tightens. you’re breathing is heavy, your hips have amind of their own, grinding against the signle digit.

“come on, bunny, give it to me, give it to binnie.” his words causing the coil to snap instantly.

“ah- fuck!” you whine, bringing a hand up to your tit, squeezing the soft flesh, brushing your senstive nipples in the process. “binnie- ah.” you moan as he continues the stimulation through your high.

once you come down he takes in the now bigger darkened patch. he places a kiss to the soaked fabric before tapping your leg, helping you pull off the material.

once you relax again, back in your previous position, leaning on your elbows this time. he uses one hand to spread your lips, giving your bundle a flick or two, your legs spasm at the action.

you sit back up, meeting him face to face, pushing him back down on the bed, “this is still about you, you know?” you ask, rolling your hips, causing your wet core to slide against his hard cock.

“you ready?” you whisper, looking into his eyes. he nods leaning up to give your lips a peck. you reached down, pumping his length a few times before rubbing his angry, leaking tip between your wet folds.

“ah fuck bunny.” he hisses, his hands finding your thighs once more, gripping the flesh. you whine as you slowly sink down on his thick length, thankful for your arousal allowing for easier access.

once you’re fully seated on his cock you lay onto his chest for a moment, enjoying the closeness and getting used to the stretch. he brings his arm to wrap around you, placing a kissing to the side of your head before you lift it.

“hi pretty boy.” you say softly, smile spreading across your face. “hi pretty girl.” he replies just as softly, smile gracing his lips.

you place you hands firming on his chest, bouncing slightly, your mouth falling open at the sensation. “fuck.” you whisper, dropping your head in pure bliss.

his cock stretching you so deliciously, the postion making it so he hits that one gummy spot that makes your toes curl. changbin wasn’t doing much better, one hand on your knee, the other squeezing your tit, pinching your nipples.

“ah! fuck i’m so full.” you groan, feeling filled to the brim and loving every second.

his hand drops to your bundle of nerves, pulling a high pitched moan from you. you slide your hands down to his soft tummy, loving the way it feels under your touch.

“fuck look at you,” you look at him as you bounce. “my big boy making me feel so good, like no else ever could.” you caress the soft skin, feeling him tense under your touch as your own release approaches.

“fuck i love you so much.” he groans, before thrusting up into your, making you lost your balance and fall into his chest. “i love you too.” you moan.

“rub your pretty little clit for me baby.” you comply, to fucked out to think about anything but changbin and your release.

you bring your hand down between your bodies, finding the senstive nub, rubbing quick circles. you clench at the added stimulation, pulling a groan from the man below you.

“god it’s like you’re made for me.” you nod, tears feeling your eyes because of the pleasure and love you have for him. he wraps his arms around you, rubbing your back as you ride him.

“made for binnie.” you babble, your circles getting sloppier, boucy becoming hard as your legs give out.

he takes notice of this, wrapping his arms tighter before quickly thrusting into you, pulling a silent scream from you. your eyes roll to the back of your head as changbin pounds into you, chasing both your releases.

“ah! fuck i love you, you fill me up so good, mine.” you babble, pure ecstasy floods your veins.

“i can feel it 자기야, let go for me, show me how much you love me.” the coil snaps once more, you’re not even sure you’re rubbing your clit, your fingers just brushing it with every thrust.

he follows soon after, your release was enough to send him other the edge. “ah- fuck .” he moans in your ear as he cums. he fucks you through both your orgasms before he stills, keeping you on him.

after a few moments you finally places your hands on his chest, gaining some sort of leverage to look at him. you whine as you feel him shift inside of you as you move.

you place a hand to his flushed cheek, rubbing it softly. “i love you soso much, no matter what you look like, that will never change.” you kiss him passionately, wrapping your arms around him as best you could.

you both wince at the movement, both of you feeling senstive. “i love you too my beautiful girl.” he kisses the side of your face wrapping his arms around you.

after a moment or too he taps you butt (to watch it jiggle) to signal you to get up. you slowly make your way off him, his soft length slipping out of you with ease, his cum sure to follow.

once you both pee, get changed and change the sheets, you cuddle up in bed, laying on his naked chest, pressing kisses every few seconds.

“i love you, bin, not matter what you look like okay? you’re mine forever.” you mumble into his pec, placing a kiss over his heart as if to seal it.

“i wouldn’t want it any other way.” you whispers , placing a kiss to your temple at you both drift off in each other’s arms.

do not repost

(comments and reblogs are always appreciated <3)

[whoskimii]

OH, HOW I LOVE WHEN HE CHOKE ME !

★ fucking the shyness out of you ft. sukuna ! ★

˖˚₊ warnings ⋆. 𐙚 ˚ cowgırl, rough sex, sukuna (he's a warning himself), p ın v, unprotected (wrap it before you tap it), breeding, daddy kink, degradatıon, spankıng, spit kink, chokıng, two dicks mentioned.

˖˚₊ wc ⋆. 𐙚 ˚ 1.2k

“woman.” sukuna's voice echoed as you headed towards your chambers. you stopped dead in your tracks and slowly turned around to face your lord, your heartbeat picking up in speed considerably. “yes, you. c'mere.”

you looked around a few times, searching for someone. anyone. but you were alone with the king of curses.

“don't waste my time.” he clicked his tongue as he placed his hand under his chin lazily, staring at you with a disinterested expression. he waited for you to walk to his throne and when you did, he shifted and spread his legs.

he simply patted his lap, a silent indication that he wanted you to straddle him. you blushed, butterflies filling your tummy.

you knew it was wrong.

it was definitely wrong to feel this way about him but you couldn't help it. you felt special. special because the ryōmen sukuna was seeking out for you, a mere servant. a human.

as you slowly straddled him, not daring to meet his gaze out of shyness, he scoffed. “what's that, huh ?” he observed the teddy bear you were clutching tightly with an amused smirk. “a teddy bear ?” the words rolled off his tongue as if the concept of a plushie was foreign to him. “what are you, five ?” he asked sarcastically, tilting his head.

you blushed again, lowering your head further down as your hold around the teddy tightened. “i like it...” you managed to mumble. he cocked an eyebrow in mild amusement. “oh, yeah ? you like that stupid thing, mhm ?” he shook his head lightly. “guess i'll let you keep it. or else you'll throw a cute little tantrum, right ?”

his hand slipped under your clothing as his fingers began to toy with the waistband of your pink little panties. he stretched the fabric and let it snap back against your skin repeatedly. “you're a pretty thing, aren't you...?” he whispered, observing your lovely features. “thank you, my lord...” you muttered.

“and also a shy thing.” he stated. his sharp nails brushed against your cheek, surprisingly soft. “ruining such an adorable thing would be such a shame... don't you think ?” he smirked as he sensed your fear, mixed with your excitement.

he spread his legs wider, your soft body still situated on his lap. “get up.” he ordered. he hummed approvingly as you listened, staring down at you with a bored expression. “undress.”

your heart skipped a beat, your grip on the plushie tightening subconsciously.

“my king—” he clicked his tongue. “do not disobey me, human. undress.” he repeated, his patience thinning by the second. you slowly obeyed. when you stood in your panties, he nodded towards them. “take these off as well.”

you took a deep breath and let your underwear fall down to your ankles before stepping out of them. he hummed at the pleasant sight. “good. c'mere.” you crawled back on his lap, your lower half completely bare. "do the same f' me.” with little shaky hands, you freed his two cocks.

the sight made your soft cunnie clench but also shot a pang of anxiety in you. “i bet you can barely even take one.” he stated condescendingly. “so you'll focus on only one. it'll be enough for today.”

for today ?

“sit on it.” he ordered, running one of his hands through his hair. as you continued clenching your teddy bear to your chest, you slowly sank down on one of his massive cocks. the sharp sting made you gasp. “that's what i thought.” he rolled his eyes. “can you even take dick ?”

you swallowed, trembling on top of his lap. “i'm sorry, my lord, i'll try my best...” he scoffed. “sure you will.”

one of your hands left your plushie to grip his shoulder. you began moving up and down, your slickness making a mess of his cock. he clicked his tongue, which prompted you to halt. “what are you doing, woman ?” he cocked an eyebrow. “oh, i thought—" you babbled. “i fuck you. 's not the other way around.”

he grabbed your meaty hips, his nails digging into your skin. he bounced you up and down, slamming himself inside your messy hole again and again. you gasped, holding onto his shoulder tightly. with every single thrust, he hit your sweet spot harshly, occasionally prodding at your cervix. “ngh !” you whimpered, chewing on your bottom lip.

he kept his bruising grip around your hips, thrusting up into your warm pussy. “m-my king—” you babbled. “toys do not speak as they please.” he hissed.

he watched your tits bounce under the thin fabric of your shirt. “look at you,” he grinned. “what a fucking slut. acting shy but all you want is dick.” your jaw went slack as the grip you previously had around your bear loosened. “mphm !”

“open that mouth.” he murmured, wrapping his big hand around your throat and squeezing. as your jaw fell, he gathered a good amount of spit in his own before shooting it into yours. “swallow.” you instinctively obeyed. “daddy...” you hiccuped. he chuckled. “oh, daddy, mhm ? yeah. i like that.”

he leaned closer to your ear to speak but you were only focused on the lewd sounds your soaked cunnie made. “been watchin' you for a while, you know ?” the curse said. “you'd make a great incubator. you'll bear my legacy, huh ? you're gonna give me strong heirs.”

his words made you even wetter. he huffed. “i can't believe how much of a whore you are. could've told me sooner you wanted my cock.” you whined. “please—” he spanked you harshly. “what did i say, toy ?” you blushed. “i can't talk...” you babbled. “mhm. good bitch.”

“i'm gonna fill you up and you won't say a thing, right ? you'll thank me.” he licked your neck. “y-yes, daddy...” you bit on your bear to keep yourself quiet. “i'm close, 'kuna...” he smirked. “yeah ? you wanna cum around me, huh ? go ahead. it'll take better.” he grumbled, watching himself slide in and out of your sloppy hole shamelessly.

“i'm—” thrust. “gonna—" thrust. “cum—! mphm !” your eyes rolled back as you squeezed his shaft tightly, pussy clamped around his dick. your soft ass slapped against his thighs as you rode him vigorously, ashamed at how naughty you were being. he spilled himself inside of you, painting your walls white with his thick, milky fluid. “that's it... slut.”

once you came down from your high, you blushed. you took deep breaths, attempting to calm your heartbeat.

you were about to get off his lap but he scoffed, holding you tightly. "where d'you think you're going, human ? i said i ain't done breedin' your lil' hole. c'mere.”

based on this ask.

[makoodles]

ミ the mightiest

part 1 | part 2

🍓 pairing: neteyam x human fem reader 🍓tags: nsfw, aged up neteyam (obviously), jealousy, alien cultural misunderstandings, oral sex (f receiving) vaginal sex, size kink, voyeurism, brief na'vi oc x reader, mentions of reader sleeping with other na'vi men

masterlist

reblogs are always enormously appreciated!

notes: okay i had to split this into two parts because it surpassed the tumblr word limit 🙃 here’s part 1, and I’ll post part 2 in a day or two!

adult neteyam art created by the incredibly talented @cinetrix, whose work motivated me to write for adult neteyam in the first place!!

The tsahìk’s hut is cool and dark, offering a much needed reprieve from the hot balmy air of the day outside. It’s been a quiet day for you, though you can’t complain about that; it’s a pleasant change of pace from the usual hectic rush of people that usually pass through.

It’s one of the rare days that Mo’at has left you to tend to the duties of the healing hut alone; it had taken years to reach this level of trust with her, and you find yourself almost deliriously proud to be able to help out. Na’vi medicinal practices are very different to human ones, but your training in first-aid has given you enough knowledge and experience to hold your own when it comes to helping out with the smaller day-to-day ailments that tend to pass through the healing hut.

Besides, you’re always happy to give Mo’at a break. She had claimed that she needed time to commune with Eywa, though secretly you suspect that she just likes to take some time to herself in her old age. But that’s fine – you’ve always found helping out in the healing hut soothing, and your heart swells at the fact that Mo’at trusts you enough to leave you in charge, even if it’s only for a few hours.

It also helps when your patient is a big, hunky alien warrior with more muscles than brains, who sits in front of you as you smear a herbal paste over the scratches he had gotten in training earlier that day.

Txeyto is not an easy patient; he flinches when you prod his wounds, whines when you clean them, and complains as you smear the paste on his scrapes. It’s a little irritating, but the sight of his big broad shoulders and chiselled abdomen is enough to soothe the worst of your aggravation.

“Are you nearly finished?” Txeyto complains, flinching away from your fingers once more.

You bite your tongue and force a smile. Patience has never been your strong suit, and Txeyto is certainly testing the short reserves you have left. But he’s very handsome, and very skilled at archery, and you feel that his physical attractiveness outweighs the minor personality flaws.

“Yes, just another few moments.” You murmur, keeping your voice low and soothing as though speaking to a child.

Txeyto settles a little when you use the baby voice on him, and you struggle to keep your face blank at the ridiculousness of it all. Men are such children, even the big strong Na’vi warriors that should be above such behaviour. He’s lucky he’s handsome.

“How did you get these injuries, hm?” You ask, using a light touch to dab some of Mo’at’s specially formulated healing paste onto his scrapes. You keep your fingers as gentle as possible, but Txetyo still winces dramatically.

He perks up at your question, his tails swaying low over the floor where you’re both sat cross-legged. “I have been training very hard. I am one of the best archers in the village now.”

“No doubt.” You murmur distractedly as you work.

“But it is important for a tsamsiyu to be competent in many forms of combat, so I must practice my hand-to-hand combat also,” Txetyo continues, apparently forgetting to wince now that he’s talking. “Neteyam has been helping me train.”

Ah. You can’t help the face you make at that, and you’re thankful that Txeyto’s back is facing you so that he can’t see your expression. You also can’t help the way you cast a quick glance towards the entrance to the hut, as though worried that simply speaking the name aloud will summon Toruk Makto’s eldest son.

“Is that right?” You say, keeping your tone carefully neutral. “So, he’s the one that got you all scraped up like this?”

Txetyo’s shoulders flex under your hands, and you realise without looking at his face that you’ve stung his pride.

“I scraped him up also.” He grumbles, shifting to try and peer over his shoulder. “They are wounds to be proud of, as I got them in combat.”

You don’t think that a couple of minor scratches from wrestling around in the mud with one of the village’s biggest dickheads count as combat wounds, but you don’t argue. You just hum non-committedly, paying more attention to his bruises than is entirely necessary.

“You should be careful,” You say instead, running your fingers carefully over one of the bruises discolouring the pretty blue skin of his defined bicep. “It’s a shame to see these lovely muscles all bruised up.”

There’s a long moment’s pause. It seems as though the cogs in Txetyo’s head are working slowly, because he seems to be struggling to understand your flirty tone of voice. But when it finally seems to click, he turns his head to peer at you with wide, curious eyes.

“Ah,” He says, his shoulders squaring as he seems to preen. “You like them?”

God, he really is a little dumb. But that’s okay. You don’t necessarily need a man with brains.

“Mhmm,” You hum, allowing your hand to rest on the bulge of his bicep. “I like strong men.”

That’s true, if a little bit of an oversimplification. You’ve lived as a human on Pandora your whole life, but it was only in recent years since you’ve reached adulthood that you’ve started really paying attention to the people around you. And good lord, you had some impressive specimens to look at.

You find yourself drawn to their athletic and toned bodies, their radiant blue skin, their cat-like grace and agility. Maybe it’s because you had grown up on Pandora with no humans your age other than Spider, but you find yourself especially drawn to your size. The sheer size of their hands alone are enough to fluster you, especially when your brain is flooded with images of those big hands in other contexts.

And luckily for you, there’s no shortage of Na’vi that are interested in experimenting with humans, too.

Txetyo visibly perks up, his ears twitching forward as he finally seems to notice the way your much smaller hands are lingering on his body as you patch him up.

“I am very strong.” He says, tail thumping against the ground.

You fight the urge to sigh. He’ll never make a great conversationalist, but that’s alright. He’s big and strong and handsome, and you just want to relieve some tension.

“I know.” You murmur, your lips quirking a little as you shuffle around so that you’re kneeling in front of him, your knees pressed close to his thighs. “But I could still kiss your scratches better, if you’d like.”

Kissing wounds better is definitely a human colloquialism that Txetyo doesn’t understand, judging by the furrow of his brow, but he doesn’t seem to care. He reaches out and wraps a big hand around your waist, and you feel a pulse of arousal low in your belly in response.

“You like my muscles so much that treating my wounds has aroused you?” He asks, the smugness in his voice impossible to miss.

His pompousness is a little irritating, but you can ignore that because his hands are big and warm and it’s exciting to feel his palm start to push its way under your cotton tank top. The few Na’vi men you’ve been with before had been absolutely fascinated with the soft squishiness of your human breasts, so your breath hitches in anticipation as his hand reaches up to grope at your tits over your bra.

Okay, you can probably admit that you’re a little pent up. It’s probably a terrible idea to allow Txetyo to feel you up like this in the middle of the healing hut, but you’re horny.

If you’re telling the truth, you’ve been hoping for a chance like this all week – but there’s one thing, one irritation, that has been preventing you by interrupting every damn chance you’ve gotten alone with any man.

In fact, you’ve been interrupted so often and so many times that you’re almost expecting it, even as Txetyo’s big hands squeeze at your tits. He’s a little rough with it, but he’s so much bigger than you that you suppose that’s unavoidable – besides, his strength only adds to the thrill.

Then, just like clockwork, as though there’s some kind of sensor that goes off whenever you’re about to get some, there’s a rustling sound by the entrance of the hut before the little woven drape covering the doorway is pulled back.

And then, who else would be standing there, but Neteyam. One of the few people on the whole planet that can actually ruin your whole day just by showing his stupid face.

His eyes find you, but his expression doesn’t change as he glances over your flustered expression and the hand that Txetyo still has shoved up your top. He tilts his head, and it feels as though he’s examining every damn detail all at once; the ointment smeared all over Txetyo’s bruises from training, the way you’ve shuffled so close to Txetyo that you’re practically straddling his thigh, your unsteady breathing behind your mask.

“Ah. Am I interrupting?” He asks with a hint of wry humour to his voice, as though he hasn’t interrupted every attempt at getting laid you’ve made this month.

It has to be on purpose. That, or he has some sort of nearly supernatural sense for when you’re horny, because he always seems to show up every goddamned time. Somehow it’s gotten worse in the last few weeks, too. You’ve barely been able to get a moment alone with whoever you’ve been chatting up before Neteyam has appeared, snapping at them to get back to training or duties or whatever lousy excuse he’s been able to come up with in the moment.

“What do you want?” You snap, impatient and too strung tight to waste your energy on pretending at politeness.

A very delayed reaction finally hits Txetyo, and he scrambles to remove his hand from the inside of your top. His hand alone is so large that the outline of it is painfully obvious even through your shirt, and you close your eyes with a sigh as he clumsily pushes himself away from you in a rather ungainly attempt at pretending nothing was going on.

“Neteyam!” He blurts, his ears flattening against his skull. He’s clearly mortified at being caught in such a position by Toruk Makto’s son, and he overcompensates by attempting to scoot away as though he hadn’t even been touching you.

You try not to roll your eyes – you’re used to this, after all. You’ve been with several Na’vi men, but they all seem to have the same sort of embarrassment about actually being open with the fact that they’ve hooked up with you. You can’t be all that annoyed about it, you suppose. You understand where it’s coming from. You’ve been around the Omaticaya your whole life, and while the taboo of having Sky People around has faded somewhat, that doesn’t mean that anyone is actually willing to admit that they’ve been with you.

You’re used to it. It’s fine. You’re just a little mortified that Neteyam is currently witnessing the scramble for Txetyo to get away from you.

He’s watching the other man with his head still tilted to the side, his big golden eyes dark in the cool shade of the hut. A muscle in his jaw is flexing, like he’s trying not to laugh.

“I will- I will see you later?” Txetyo whispers to you as he stands. He probably intended for his voice to be low enough that it stayed between just you and him, but the hut is quiet enough that there’s no doubt Neteyam can hear him just fine.

“Mhm. Yeah.” You murmur back, watching Txetyo’s big broad back as he steps away from you, all hasty and flustered.

Txetyo gets as far as Neteyam, who’s still standing with his arms crossed in the doorway. Neteyam doesn’t so much as shift, his eyes dragging with lazy satisfaction over the myriad of scrapes and bruises that he had left on Txetyo during their sparring earlier.

Txetyo shifts on his feet, visibly nervous in the face of his future chief’s judgement. “Ah… Will we train again tomorrow, Neteyam?”

Neteyam hums non-committedly, before finally stepping away from the doorway. He brushes past Txetyo, and you wonder if he’s always so dismissive of his fellow warriors or if he’s just being an even bigger dickhead today for some reason.

“We will see.” Neteyam says shortly, though he’s not even looking Txetyo’s way.

Taking that as the dismissal it so clearly is, Txetyo nods awkwardly before disappearing out of the hut, leaving you and Neteyam alone.

For a long moment, you do your best to avoid looking up. You’re beyond irritated right now, made so much worse by the fact that your panties are kind of wet and you’re so fucking desperate for attention right now. The little wooden bowls knock together clumsily as you try to arrange them without looking up, but it becomes difficult when Neteyam lowers himself down to sit opposite you.

“The tsahìk’s hut is a bold place for such activities.” He says, and you don’t have to look up to know that there’s a stupid smug look on his face. “What would my grandmother think?”

As he sits down, he places a woven bag by your knee. You don’t need to look at it to know what it is; he’s always bringing stuff to the healing hut for his grandmother. Herbs or medicinal plants, fibres for weaving bandages, even animal bones that he had whittled down for needles for suturing.

Even you can grudgingly admit it’s thoughtful; but he only ever seems to bring it when you’re around. It’s like he just wants to rub it in your face that he excels at everything he does – it’s extremely annoying.

You finally look up, your face already scrunched in a scowl. “What do you want?”

He raises his hairless brows at you, an expression he no doubt learned from his father. “I would like my cuts from training treated. What else would I be here for?”

And now you know that he’s just messing with you, because while Txetyo was covered in bruises and abrasions from his tough training session earlier, Neteyam doesn’t have a single visible scratch.

“What exactly am I supposed to treat?” You ask, voice tight.

Neteyam shifts, proffering you his shoulder, and you see a single scrape along his otherwise flawless striped blue skin. You purse your lips, staring at it in mild disbelief.

“You can’t be serious.” You say, deadpan.

But it’s clear that Neteyam is serious, because he’s already stretching out on the comfy woven rugs of his grandmother’s hut as if he belongs there. It’s obvious that he has no intention of moving – he must have come here just to torture you.

You blow out a frustrated breath, the inside of your respirator mask fogging up briefly before rapidly clearing. Neteyam is infuriating. He gets under your skin in a way that no one else does, as though he knows every goddamn little button to press just to aggravate you.

Maybe it’s just a by-product of having been raised as next in line to lead the Omaticaya, or of being Toruk Makto’s oldest son, but you’ve always found Neteyam closed off and distant.

Truthfully, you can’t say for certain if he’s always been this way. When you were young teenagers, you hadn’t had much contact with him; he was always busy with his own training, and then the whole Sully family had left for Awa’atlu. When they had returned, several years later, Neteyam had been more reserved, and yet somehow even cockier and more confident than ever.

“I don’t understand you. There’s no need for you to get this scrape seen to, and you know it. You just like wasting my time.”

He just watches you as you complain, his eyes hooded and dark in a way that honestly leaves you a little heated. He doesn’t deny it, which only irritates you further. You knew he was just trying to annoy you!

“It’s your job to treat wounds when you’re here, isn’t it?” He asks, and you can see the way his tail is lazily undulating behind him, skimming across the woven carpet. He’s enjoying arguing with you.

You huff out a put-upon sigh, before grabbing two of the jars. The ointment is naturally antiseptic but it goes on with quite a sting; you try not to feel satisfied about that as you coat your fingers in it before dabbing it onto the scrape on Neteyam’s shoulder. You’re not as gentle as you’d usually be either, your patience is too thin for you to be considerate with him right now.

But this is not Txetyo. This is Neteyam, and he doesn’t so much as flinch as you rub the paste over his still sluggishly bleeding scratch, even though you know it must sting. You try not to feel irked by his stoicism.

As you work, Neteyam’s head rolls back. In a move that’s almost imperceptible, his nostrils flare and he scents the air. You assume it’s the fairly astringent scent of the herbal paste you’ve just pulled out that’s bothering him, and you raise an eyebrow at him.

“Problem?”

His lips quirk, though he manages to keep his expression neutral. “No. I am simply enjoying being under your tender care.”

You narrow your eyes at him. He’s mocking you now.

The fact that he had walked in on Txetyo’s hand up your top as he groped at your tits feels like a heavy unspoken weight in between you as you dab at his minor wound. You keep waiting for him to bring it up, to laugh at you for it, but he remains stubbornly quiet as you work, his golden eyes watching you in quiet contemplation.

In fact, he’s never brought up any of the times he’s interrupted you right before you got with someone. He’s caught you in varying levels of undress, with Na’vi men over you, under you, holding you, touching you, kissing you, but somehow just before anything good actually happened. Every time the men had scrambled away from you as though you were something diseased, mortified at being caught with a tawtute by Neteyam, a man that (for some reason you can’t comprehend) they seem to have an awful lot of respect for.

In the beginning, you were inclined to come up with excuses for him; he was Jake Sully’s oldest son, and was inevitably going to keep track of his peers and where they disappeared off to when they had duties that they should be attending to. But now, you think he’s doing it to spite you specifically. It might be a bit of a self-centred thing to believe, but you’re almost certain of it.

You shift on your knees beside him, raising yourself up a little to ensure that you’ve covered all parts of his scrape. You don’t want him returning tomorrow to complain that you didn’t do a good job.

You have to bite back another sigh as you do so, your thighs rubbing together in a way that sends a sharp jolt up your spine. You’re horny and needy and so, so resentful of the fact that you’re now treating the same man that’s the direct cause of your state right now.

Neteyam’s attitude wasn’t the only thing that changed in his time away, however. You have to keep your eyes fixed carefully on his bruising shoulder, because if you didn’t you know that your gaze would wander, and that’s a dangerous game to be playing in the presence of someone as perceptive as Neteyam.

But it’s difficult not to look. Time and ocean air has been kind to him; he’s grown as tall as his father, and whatever sort of training or work he had been doing with the Metkayina has resulted in broader shoulders and a more sturdy build than is typical of the Omaticaya. It’s galling to admit, and makes you feel as though you’ve eaten something sour and unpleasant, but Neteyam is hot as hell.

He might be aggravating and smug and too cocky, but no one in their right mind could deny that he’s attractive. Not even you. Especially you, if you’re being honest with yourself, considering your penchant for enormous blue alien men that could snap you in two with a pinkie if they felt so inclined.

God, you really have to think about something else. You’re so wet that your panties are starting to get uncomfortable, so you focus determinedly on the resentment that’s still simmering over the fact that Neteyam had interrupted what was promising to be a very productive encounter with Txetyo.

Neteyam shuffles a little where he’s sitting in front of you, and your eyes track the way his muscles bunch and shift under his vibrant blue skin. Damn, but seeing Na’vi musculature up close never gets old, even if it’s Neteyam.

You’re almost finished with dabbing paste on the tiny scrape (and you hate to admit that it had taken you longer than it should have due to your distraction), when Neteyam half-turns his head towards you.

“My back is sore, also.” He murmurs, though his eyes remain downcast.

You pause, staring at him. “Okay. And?”

There’s a moment where the two of you just look expectantly at each other. When nothing comes of that, Neteyam speaks again.

“You are playing healer today, are you not?” He asks, and his left ear twitches oddly. “Or is your attention all reserved for Txetyo, hm?”

Your cheeks heat in humiliation and your jaw clenches. You knew he wouldn’t be able to help himself from making some sort of stupid comment.

“Lay down.” You snap, prickly and embarrassed.

“Yes ma’am.” Neteyam purrs, probably all satisfied that he’s gotten under your skin. He reclines, all of those lithe muscles flexing and bunching as he rolls over onto his stomach.

You grab another pot of ointment, and then take a moment to steady yourself.

You know that he’s winding you up on purpose, just like always, but you can never figure out why. He doesn’t treat you like any of the other men in the village do – they might enjoy fucking you, but they’re rarely caught dead in public with you, worried about what it might mean for their own reputations.

Neteyam is bolder, more confident; though the burden of responsibility that he carries is unmistakable, he never seems to get caught up with the petty whispering and musings of the village people. It’s just unfortunate that he seems so set on bothering you.

Your mouth goes dry as your eyes drop mindlessly over the expanse of his long, pretty back. His skin is stretched tight over lithe muscle, little luminescent white freckles glinting like little stars. He looks so smooth, though the flawlessness of his body is marred by thick pale scars that litter his skin, courtesy of the near legendary battle with the RDA that you hear happened off the coast of Awa’atlu.

You glance down, flustered. Fuck. It would be so much easier to hate him if he wasn’t physically perfect.

“Problem?” Neteyam’s voice is a little lower in register than it was before, perhaps because he’s lying on his stomach with his head pillowed under his crossed arms.

You twitch. Shit. You had gotten distracted, and had lost yourself staring at him.

“No. Shut up.” You blurt reflexively, dipping your fingers into the oily ointment used for easing sore muscles.

Neteyam huffs quietly, a sound that could be a grunt or a laugh, but doesn’t bother responding. It makes you feel as though you’ve lost a game you didn’t know you were playing.

Antsy and on edge, you lean forward and survey his strong back properly. When he's laying out in front of you like this you can see the way his back is knotted with tension and his shoulders are hiked up around his ears. It doesn't look too bad, but it can't be comfortable either.

You take one more moment to admire the musculature of his shoulders, before gathering yourself and dipping your fingers into the ointment. It's balmy against your fingers and smells a little bit like blueberries, and begins to tingle when your hand is entirely coated.

"Where does it hurt most?" You ask, your voice quiet.

In the silence, you can hear Neteyam’s throat click when he swallows.

"My neck and shoulders." When he speaks, his voice is a little deeper than expected.

The very first touch to Neteyam’s back pulls a quiet sigh out of him; it sounds like relief.

Considering his size, it takes surprisingly little to have him melting under your hands. Your fingers spread under his scapula, finding a knot in the muscle and pressing in hard. It takes a bit of finagling, but after some firm pressure you feel the muscle begin to soften beneath your touch.

Gaining confidence, you return your kneading fingers to his neck. He really is terribly tense, and shivering spasms flit up and down the muscles of his back in regular intervals as you drag the warm palms of your hands over him. As your fingers work into his tense muscles, he lets out quiet little grunts that are muffled by the cradle of his arms.

“Why were you so hard on Txetyo during training?” You ask as your fingers dig into the tense tissue of his back. Your voice is unintentionally loud in the quiet of the hut. “He looked as though he had been attacked by a thanator when he was here earlier.”

Neteyam just grunts. “Txetyo is an overconfident skxawng. He is not nearly as skilled as he thinks he is.”

You click your tongue, dissatisfied with that answer. “I could say the same about you.”

Just like all your attempts to insult him, your words seem to bounce right off him. Stupid thick-skinned bastard. His pretty mouth tilts up in a smile.

“I have the skills to back it up, paskalin.”

Your lips purse at the name, your cheeks hot. God, he’s such an asshole.

When you exert pressure as you run your fingers down his spine, Neteyam grunts softly into his arms. The sound is startling in the quiet, interrupting the steady rhythm of your quiet breathing.

"Does that hurt?" You ask. Your voice comes out a little shakier than you’d like.

"No." Neteyam’s voice comes out in a low, gravelly rumble. The sound of it almost startles you into snatching your hands away, but you manage to refrain yourself. "Keep going."

You just swallow thickly, and try to keep yourself on task. “He just wants to be better. He was excited to train with you–”

“Lower.” Neteyam groans, shifting under your hands.

You clench your teeth. Really, you should probably just walk away from him. There’s no real need for you to be doing any of this. He’s not even injured, and who knows whether he’s telling the truth about his back being tense.

But you’re stupid, and you’ve never been good at walking away, from either fighting or fucking. This strange encounter feels as though it lies somewhere in the middle of those two things. Your palms drag down to his lower back, and he flinches briefly before melting under your touch.

His body is so big that it’s difficult to get a good angle to knead properly at his tense muscles, and before you can think too hard about it you swing your leg over his hips. You settle back, perching your weight cautiously at the base of his spine.

It's a braver move than you would usually make, but you try not to second-guess yourself — like this, you have so much more leverage to rub at the rigid sinews of his back. You drag your knuckles down the length of his spine and he groans into the cradle of his arms.

You try to ignore the excited flutter in your belly. It’s just Neteyam. You’re not actually getting turned on from this; the only reason you’re so affected is because you had been horny with Txetyo. You shift where you’re sitting on his back, but you have to force yourself still almost immediately, because the friction nearly makes your lungs seize.

“Comfortable?” Neteyam murmurs, and you can hear amusement in his voice.

“Shut up.” You say reflexively, before scowling. “I can’t believe you interrupted me and Txetyo just for this. You have, like, one bruise–”

“It’s a very sore bruise.” He murmurs lazily, sounding unbothered. “Do you think squeezing your tits might help? That seemed to help Txetyo feel better.”

You pause, jaw dropping in indignation. “I– shut up!”

Neteyam makes a noise that sounds like a snicker, and you dig your fingers down the planes of his back vengefully. His waist narrows into an elegant taper, and when you reach the part of his back where his ass begins to swell, you exert firm pressure against the base of his tail.

If you had done it to a human, you know it would have hurt. But instead the tightness of the muscle unfurls under your fingers, and Neteyam gives a long, low groan. The sound is delightfully gravelly, and you take a breath as you feel molten heat ooze down into your belly and settle between your legs. It’s not a reaction you had been expecting.

You sit back onto his lower back, avoiding his tail. From here, you have a truly captivating view of how slick his back looks from the ointment, and how his skin glows in the dim light of the hut. His body really is perfect, and your eyes track over the taut shiny scars that litter his skin.

“Mmm. May I get up? Or do you want to sit on me a little while longer?” Neteyam’s low voice breaks you out of your stupor, and you’re horrified to find that you’ve just been sitting there with your wet panties pressed against his back beneath your thin shorts.

You scramble off him quickly, flustered and clumsy. It had been a bold move to straddle him in the first place, and now you feel very stupid about it.

“You should apologise to Txetyo.” You blurt, just to say something into the silence.

“Why are we still talking about Txetyo?” Neteyam has always been a relatively tolerant and even-keeled man, but you can hear irritation beginning to bubble up in his voice.

“Because–” You start to say, but then Neteyam rolls over so that he’s laying on his back.

Now that he's lying on his back, stretched out all long and lithe, your eyes rove over his face and then down his throat, his chest, his stomach, his hips. Your eyes catch on the protrusion between his legs and stick there, your mouth dropping open in surprise when you see that his loincloth is tented.

“Because- he… you were too–” You try valiantly to finish your sentence, but your thoughts have scattered to the wind.

He’s hard. Why the fuck is he hard? Is that just from you rubbing his back? Oh my god, what are you supposed to say? It feels like his hard-on is staring at you.

Neteyam pushes himself up into a sitting position, his hands planted on the woven rug behind him as he pushes himself up so that he’s sitting looming over you. Once he’s upright, Neteyam flexes his shoulders and groans slightly as he goes. It doesn't sound like a pained groan, thankfully.

The movement brings him closer to you than you had been expecting, and you end up freezing. Like this, you can see the way his expression has smoothed into one of relief. His shoulders are looser too, no longer held bunched up around his neck.

Neteyam doesn't seem to notice your close proximity, nor the way you have tensed at the lack of space between them. You’re not touching, but you’re so close that you swear you can physically feel the air between you.

“If Txetyo is so upset about being beaten by me in training, then he should focus on getting better instead of slinking away with his tail between his legs and trying to screw you in a corner of my grandmother’s hut.”

You gape at him like an absolute idiot, floored by the acerbity in his tone. You’ve always thought Neteyam was a bit of a dickhead, but that was mostly because of his nearly insufferable need to always be the best. Always the best warrior, the best son, the best brother, the best future Olo’eyktan. The best role model to his peers.

“So that’s what this is about.” You say, your voice coming out distinctly accusatory. “You don’t like that your friends are fucking a human, is that it?”

Neteyam doesn’t even bother answering. He just rolls his now loosened shoulders and watches you carefully. He doesn't tell you to back off, or wrinkle his nose at you, or act as though he's repulsed by you. He just stares at you across the miniscule space between you, and that only angers you further.

“Is that why you keep interrupting whenever I’m with any of the other tsamsiyu?” You demand, fists clenching. “What, you don’t like that your friends find a tawtute attractive? Is that why you keep cockblocking me?”

Neteyam huffs a quiet snort, as though he thinks you’re being stupid.

“I hear what some of the Na’vi in the village say, about how it’s shameful to be with a tawtute.” You hiss. “I just didn’t think you’d be one of them.”

And if you’re honest with yourself, it sort of hurts. Neteyam has always gotten on your nerves with his confusing mix of overconfidence and jagged insecurities, and he had really infuriated you when he had started to interrupt all of those illicit little meetups you had planned with some of the boys in the village, but you hadn’t actually thought that he had any disdain for you like some of the other Na’vi.

And then you do something so stupid that it shocks even you.

Your eyes drop back down to the tent in his tewng, eyeing it thoughtfully, before reaching out and running your fingers over the hardened outline of his cock through the fabric with purpose.

Neteyam hisses, and his hips actually lift off the floor in an attempt to follow your touch.

“God, you’re a hypocrite, aren’t you?” You breathe, fighting to keep your voice casual. “How can you judge your friends for fucking around with me when you’re this hard after just a backrub?”

“They’re not my friends.” Neteyam grunts, his jaw clenching as his head tilts back. His hips rock into your hand.

Your touch goes firmer, and then your hand slips under his loincloth. You’ve had plenty of sexual encounters with Na’vi men, but this is different.

This is Neteyam. This encounter feels like proving a point. A very sexually charged point.

His cock is silky smooth and hot to the touch, and you feel a little drunk as your fingers close around it. And damn, it feels big. All Na’vi cocks are big compared to your hands, but this… feels different. You were aroused anyway, you’ve been feeling pent up all damn week, but now that your hand is on his dick your nerves are fizzing up.

It’s a surprise when Neteyam’s big hand settles on your waist to tug you closer, and you feel your stomach swoop when he pulls you forward. You don’t release his cock even as he pulls you to settle over one of his thighs, your legs slotted in between his, and you can feel him harden even further beneath you.

You wonder absently if it's really you that's causing his very obvious arousal or if it's just a natural consequence of the massage; either way, when his hips flex up towards you, they press right in between your legs.

You shiver almost violently, the sensation of him pressing hot and hard against your core frying your nerves and wiping your thoughts clean. The part of your brain that had been screaming about what a bad idea this whole thing is has become muffled now, and your own hips jerk against his.

“You’re such an asshole,” You say, though your voice comes out reedy and breathless. “You of all people don’t have a right to talk shit about those guys just cause they’re into humans, especially when your cock is this hard, and especially considering where your dad came from–”

He lets out a soft, quiet noise as you move against him, and uses his grip on the back of your top to pull you tighter against him yet again. “Don’t talk about my father when you have my cock in your hand.”

It takes what feels like a monumental effort to wrench your hand away from him, and he lets out a wordless grunt of dissatisfaction as his hips twitch in an effort to follow your hand. It’s delightfully pathetic, and you feel your ego swell at the sheer sense of power that washes over you; it’s a rare feeling, especially when you’re faced with a big blue alien almost twice your size.

“You should apologise to Txetyo.” You sound like an out of breath idiot. “It’s not like you can judge him for being with a tawtute when you’re that hard from me just touching you.”

Neteyam just stares at you, his jaw clenching and his honey eyes dark as he takes several breaths through his nose. You’ve never seen him like this before; you’ve never seen any of the men you’ve been with like this before. It looks as though he’s holding onto a thin veneer of control, and you wonder if he’s angry with you, if you’ve perhaps pushed him too far.

“That was never the issue.” He says and fuck, his voice has gone so gravelly. “And don’t pretend that you’re not wet beneath those clothes of yours. I can smell it.”

Your thighs squeeze together as you swallow hard, struggling to maintain your aura of indifference and no doubt failing.

“That’s because of Txetyo.” You say, and it tastes like a lie on your tongue. “You interrupted us.”

Neteyam laughs quietly and humourlessly. His expression suggests that he doesn’t find anything about this conversation funny, and his hand is still splayed across your back. You’re so damn conscious of how big his palm is as it spreads across your spine. Why the hell hasn’t he let go of you yet?

“Ah, I see.” Neteyam murmurs. “You would have fucked him in my grandmother’s hut?”

Your mouth is so damn dry, and you swallow compulsively. “It’s not any of your business who I fuck.”

Neteyam’s smile is grim. “Txetyo would fuck his own shadow if he were nimble enough to catch it. You have terrible taste in men.”

You rear back. You’re surprised by how much that hurts. Living as a human on Pandora is lonely, and it’s not like you have people lining up outside the human outpost looking to spend time with you. If you want any sort of companionship or intimacy, you have to accept any attention that you can get. And sure, most of that attention comes from men that only want to get their dicks wet, or the experience of being with a tawtute, but it’s better than nothing at all.

“Well, we can’t all be the Olo’eyktan’s son.” You say, your voice stiff and cold. “We don’t all have countless suitors throwing themselves at our feet. Some of us have to accept attention from whoever’s interested.”

Neteyam’s expression shifts, an odd look appearing in his eyes, and your stomach swoops. You don’t think you could bear to see pity in his eyes, so you pull away from him, shaking his hands off.

“Your scratch is fine.” You say, your voice thin and a little thready. “You’re all treated.

“Hey–”

As you stumble to your feet, Neteyam reaches out as if to stop you. You dodge his hands, unable to look him in the eye.

Panic is starting to set in now; what had you been thinking, touching him like that just after he had chided you for flirting with Txetyo in the tsahìk’s hut? God, you feel like such an idiot. He must think you’re so pathetic.

Like a coward, you turn on your heel and flee out of the hut. You need air, you need to be out of the cool darkness of the hut, you need to be away from the overwhelming weight of Neteyam’s presence. Through the blood rushing in your ears you can distantly hear Neteyam call to you, but you’re too desperate to escape from the whole humiliating interaction to stop and listen.

You stagger out of the hut, squinting at the evening light; it seems blinding after spending all day in the dim musty air of Mo’at’s healing hut. You pat at your rumpled shirt and creased denim shorts, flustered and frenzied as you try to straighten yourself out.

“Tawtute?”

You jerk, gasping, and whirl to find that Txetyo is sitting on a log a few feet away from the hut, apparently waiting for you to finish up with Neteyam. You feel like you’re burning up from a mixture of mortification and confused arousal and you’re certain that Neteyam is about to follow you out.

“I– I have to go!” You blurt, already stepping back towards the forest.

Txetyo frowns, obviously bewildered, but he doesn’t stand. “Don’t you want to–”

You don’t wait for him to finish. You’re already fleeing, disappearing into the trees as you run the whole way home.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ

It might be a little cowardly, but you avoid the village for days after that.

You stick to the outpost, watching Norm and Max and the other scientists work. You try not to die of boredom, and you try not to overthink and overthink and overthink.

But you have too much time on your hands as you slink around the outpost, and you can’t stop feeling guilty about abandoning your attempts to help Mo’at out in her healing hut.

You also can’t stop thinking about the shift of Neteyam’s muscles in the low dim light, or the silky hot feel of his cock in your hand, or the soft breathy grunts he had let out as his hips rocked. It feels like the experience has actually rewired your brain, as though you’ll never recover from it.

Growing up on Pandora as a human has been lonely. The only other human your age is Spider, who had become the closest thing you have to a brother – and you love him even when you feel like throttling him, but sometimes you just yearn for more.

You want companionship, you want understanding, you want romance, you want sexual intimacy. You don’t think it’s too much to ask for, and if you have to turn to big nine-feet-tall Na’vi warriors who just want to say they’ve had the experience of sleeping with a tawtute, then that’s… fine. Even if it’s only temporary.

Part of you is honestly relieved when Spider finally manages to force you out of the outpost and back to the village. It’s a relief to get back into the forest, to the village, to the life you’re used to. The outpost has nothing on the vibrancy of the village life, and you feel as though you can breathe for the first time in days upon stepping back into the village, even if it’s through your respirator mask.

There’s been a big hunt today, and the village is buzzing with excitement. You pass by several willowy Na’vi covered in celebratory paint, and follow the sound of the heavy thumping of drums.

The evening after a hunt is always a joyful affair, and you gradually start to relax throughout the night. You feast on collected fruit, hum along to some of the music, and sit comfortably with Spider all evening. At some point you’re joined by Lo’ak, which you don’t mind either; Lo’ak has always been the kind of outcast that fits comfortably between the edges of you and Spider. Those edges have smoothed out as he got older, but he’s always been a cool guy to hang out with.

When he’s not joining Spider in ganging up on you, that is.

“So– so wait, wait, let me get this straight,” Lo’ak is waving his hands as though trying to settle down a group of rowdy children, even though it’s just the three of you present. “Neteyam walked in on you fucking again, but this time it was in grandmother’s hut–”

You’re sat around the large campfire in the middle of the village, tucked away from the main celebrations. Part of you is flourishing being in this environment again, but another part is withering at this damn conversation. You glance around nervously, hoping that no casual observers can hear you guys talking.

“Txetyo only had his hand up my top!” You hiss hastily. “We weren’t actually– and we would have gone somewhere else when it came down to it!”

“Txetyo is a dickhead.” Spider complains, leaning heavily on your side. He’s so frequently dwarfed by the Na’vi that it’s easy to forget that he’s over six-feet-tall and corded with muscle, and his bulk is heavy.

Irritatingly, Lo’ak leans into you the same way on the other side, though he’s more careful about leaning his full weight, and you end up crushed in between the two idiots.

“He isn’t.” You protest, pushing back against their weight. “He’s–”

“Nah, he is.” Lo’ak interrupts before you can defend him. “Total skxawng. You know he keeps telling people he’s the best archer in the clan? And yet he didn’t manage to catch anything in today’s hunt–”

You try not to wince at that. It’s impossible to miss that while Txetyo may not have been successful in the hunt today, someone else is being lauded for their skill and success.

Neteyam has been given a place of honour by the fire next to his parents, and the careful swirls of paint all over his body can’t hide the proud glow on his face. Under the smooth veneer of Neteyam’s smiles and cheer was the jagged edge of his inferiority complex, his need to always be better and to be liked. Funnily enough, his insecurity has always been your favourite part of him. It felt real in a way his cockiness didn’t.

You can’t stop yourself from glancing over. Night has already fallen and there are many couples dancing, the flickering firelight sending wild shadows across the gathering. But even in the unsteady light, you catch the intense golden stare of Neteyam watching you from across the circle.

You hastily turn your face away, pressing your lips together tight as you try to pretend like you hadn’t been looking in the first place.

“–He’s better than Art’alak, at least.” Spider says, continuing on the conversation that you had checked out of for a few moments. “That guy was awful. I mean, what did you even see in him?”

You roll your eyes, sinking further back into the stupidly heavy weight of Spider and Lo’ak in a silly attempt to hide yourself from view. It almost definitely doesn’t work, and you can still feel the weight of Neteyam’s stare on you, even as you fixedly ignore him.

“Pretty sure we don’t want the answer to that one, man.” Lo’ak says, snickering.

His eyes glance around, before flashing across the gathering as though he can also feel Neteyam’s attention. You frown as Lo’ak hastily removes his arm from around your shoulders, even leaning away from you a little.

“I’m allowed to want company.” You say loftily, though you’re certain that your voice is a little shaky.

It feels like your skin is heating up under Neteyam’s eyes, and you feel yourself getting shifty. Why won’t he just look away?

Lo’ak obviously notices his brother’s attention, because he leans a little closer so he can speak quietly in your ear.

“My brother can be unbearable,” Lo’ak murmurs, “But he’s not a bad guy.”

“Gross.” You wrinkle your nose playfully at Lo’ak’s rare display of sincerity about his brother and he hisses at you, swiping at your head.

It’s all in jest, which is obvious given how gentle his hands are with you, and you laugh and lean away.

“I just– I don’t understand him.” You sigh once your laughter has tapered off. “I mean, I get that he doesn’t approve of the whole interspecies thing, but it’s like he goes out of his way to catch me in embarrassing situations. If he finds it gross, why seek it out?”

Lo’ak purses his lips and avoids your eyes. “Uh…”

“Anytime he shows up, the guys I’m with go running.” You continue, your brows knitting into a frown. “I mean, it’s getting ridiculous. Why can’t he just mind his own business?”

Lo’ak’s eyes dart over your head, and you just know that he and Spider are sharing a look together.

“He doesn’t– I wouldn’t say he disapproves of interspecies relationships–” Lo’ak says, but he fumbles a little in his attempt to get his words out and darts another panicked glance across the fire towards where Neteyam is sitting with their father.

You just scoff, crossing your arms defensively across your chest. You feel a little vulnerable talking about this; usually, you’re content to suffer through the embarrassment of having your sex partners pretending they don’t know you in public alone, but since Neteyam had started walking in on you, now he knows that they’re doing it too.

“He scolds them like they’re children whenever he walks in on us, talking about how they’re neglecting their duties and all that,” You mutter, scowling. “But it’s obviously because he’s annoyed that his friends are messing around with a Sky Person.”

Spider shifts at your side, making an odd sound beneath his breath. You turn to look at him, but he’s staring rather fixedly at a tree branch overhead. Lo’ak clears his throat, similarly looking off to the side to avoid your eyes.

You frown. It feels as though they’re hiding something from you, and the thought is unsettling.

“What?” You demand, sitting forward and staring intently at them.

“Nothing,” Lo’ak protests, but his voice is a little too high-pitched to be believable. “Uh… It’s just… well, I really don’t think that Neteyam has a problem with interspecies relationships. Our dad came from the Sky, too!”

You think that Lo’ak probably intended for that to be reassuring, but instead you find your stomach sinking miserably.

“Oh.” You say, pursing your lips. “So it’s me that he has a problem with.”

“No!” Lo’ak protests, but then he pauses. His mouth opens and closes as he struggles to form a response under the weight of your narrowed eyes.

When no explanation comes, you end up just averting your gaze and looking towards the fire. It’s stupid, but you’re not sure what you were even expecting. Neteyam has always been perfect in his personal life, his duties, his relationships within the clan, his looks. It’s hardly a surprise that he’s developed a distaste for you – you know what Sky People represent to the Na’vi, after all.

Across the gathering, two Na’vi girls are shooting looks at Spider. You almost think they’re looking at him in disgust, but when Spider catches their eye and smiles back they both look away giggling.

You click your tongue and roll your eyes. You wonder when exactly it was that the Na’vi your age stopped seeing you as human nuisances that haunt the village, and started instead seeing you as people with possible sexual appeal.

“That is just unfair.” You intone dully. “You get Na’vi girls flirting with you from across the campfire, and I get Na’vi boys fucking me in corners and then pretending they don’t know me. And that’s only if I don’t get rudely interrupted by Lo’ak’s asshole brother.”

“Men.” Lo’ak says in a disparaging tone that sounds as though it’s meant to be sympathetic, but it falls short as he’s biting his tongue to keep from laughing. “Maybe you just have bad taste.”

Spider laughs too, though he’s still looking in the Na’vi girls’ direction. There’s a pink flush in his cheeks, and his smile looks distinctly pleased.

“Yeah,” You grumble, sinking down where you’re sitting. “I’m hearing that a lot.”

The conversation moves on then, Lo’ak nudging at Spider over your head and grinning as he recounts the highlights from the hunt earlier that day, but you’re distracted. You hardly even hear a word they say, too busy staring broodingly into the fire.

Luckily, neither Lo’ak nor Spider mind your silence. They’re perfectly content to fill the quiet themselves, chatting and babbling and joking over your head.

You’re drifting, lost in your own thoughts until you hear Lo’ak and Spider go quiet. You glance over to them, only to realise why they’ve stopped talking – Neteyam is walking your way.

You stiffen, eyes narrowing behind your respirator mask as he comes to a stop before you all. He greets his brother and Spider briefly, distractedly, before his big amber eyes settle on you.

All you can do is wait, tensed. You have no idea what he’s going to do or say, but if he says something about that day in the healing hut you might actually scream.

But Neteyam doesn’t immediately say anything. He crouches in front of you, his gaze as measured and even as ever, and proffers a wrapped utumauti leaf to you. For a moment, you just stare at it as though it’s something venomous.

“A portion of yerik meat,” Neteyam clarifies, not even blinking as he watches your face. “From the hunt earlier.”

Oh. Now you see. He’s just showing off, like he always does. He’s always doing things like this, just to show off his skills, his prowess, how strong he is. It’s irritating; everyone already knows how great he is, and he’s already practically revered throughout the village. You don’t know why he keeps trying to flaunt his greatness in front of you, other than the fact that he must love to annoy you.

Spider nudges you in the side, and you reach out to take the wrapped meat from Neteyam’s outstretched hand.

“Thank you.” You say, a little tersely.

Neteyam just nods, his tail coiling. He watches your face for another moment, and all the unspoken tension between you from the other day seems to swell to unbearable heights. His ears twitch, and then he glances over his shoulder to where his parents are sitting by the fire. They’re watching, which makes you feel itchy and embarrassed.

“I should return.” He says simply, before standing and nodding at you, then Spider and Lo’ak, before straightening up and walking back to his place by Jake, his tail swaying low.

There’s a long moment of silence, where you can feel Lo’ak and Spider staring at you.

“Don’t.” You say sharply when you see Lo’ak’s mouth open, and he closes it with a click.

This feels embarrassing, as though Neteyam is mocking you somehow. It’s not the first time he’s given you food, always making sure to let you know he caught it himself. It’s like he has a damn pathological need to show off his skills, to try and prove himself, to prove that he’s better than anyone else. It’s aggravating, even more so now that Lo’ak has made it clear that it’s you that Neteyam has a problem with.

Eventually, Spider and Lo’ak return to their conversation and you pull back, sitting silently between them. You pull your mask off for a brief moment to nibble at the meat. You’re a little irritated to admit that it’s delicious, and you sit back to lean into Spider’s side as you chew at it sullenly.

You’ve just begun to wonder if this night is a total bust altogether when you catch movement out of the corner of your eye. You raise your head, surprised to see the sight of Txetyo stepping towards you.

At your side, Spider and Lo’ak share a look before sitting up straighter.

“Tawtute,” Txetyo greets, nodding his head at you. He casts a single cautious look towards Lo’ak, before focusing on you properly.

He is keeping his voice purposely low so that no one else can hear, but you can’t bring yourself to care. This is the most public setting that any man has ever actually approached you in, and you can feel your expression brightening already.

“Hello.” You murmur, smiling sweetly at him. The last time you had seen him had been right after you had fled the tsahik’s hut, right after you had touched Neteyam– and no, you are not thinking about that right now.

“I would like to speak with you.” Txetyo murmurs, his voice low as he darts one more quick look between Lo’ak and Spider before settling on you again.

You brighten. You’re under no illusions about what Txetyo wants to ‘speak’ about, and you can safely assume that there will be little to no talking involved at all.

Yes. A distraction. This is exactly what you need.

“Sure.” You say, your lips curving up in a coy smile as you unfold yourself from where you’ve been sitting between Spider and Lo’ak.

“Uh–” Lo’ak starts to say, but you’re already beginning to step away with Txetyo, who’s beginning to lead you away from the gathering.

Maybe it’s a little impulsive, but you’re feeling reckless tonight. You can still feel Neteyam’s eyes boring into your back as you follow Txetyo towards the treeline, but you determinedly refuse to look. The celebration should be enough of a distraction to keep him busy and away from you for a while so you can finally get laid.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ

You resist the urge to check the time on your battered old wristwatch as Txetyo slides down your body and repositions himself between your legs.

It feels like such a long time since you’ve hooked up successfully with anyone, with no interruptions, which is probably why you’ve been so affected by all-things-Neteyam recently. You were hoping that this encounter with Txetyo would restore you back to normal, to get rid of all the thoughts of Neteyam’s intense golden stare and pretty face and silken hot cock that are absolutely haunting you.

Yet, so far, the night’s been less than stellar. Txetyo had led you away from the celebrations, and you had to try hard to pretend like you don’t see him looking around compulsively to make sure that no one else has seen him leave with you. You had followed him into the trees, and had brightened up when he took your hand as soon as you were out of sight of the gathering.

Before you knew it, you were on your back on the forest floor with your panties around your ankles and your dress rucked up around your waist as Txetyo loomed over you on his hands and knees.

Txetyo is handsome, and he’s big and strong and he’s not opposed to hooking up with a Sky Person, but he’s not much for conversation and it seems like he’s only really got one thing on his mind. Apparently, your list of criteria might be a little lacking, because Txetyo’s also proving to be woefully bad at sex.

He spreads your legs and buries his face there. You blink at the canopy of glowing foliage overhead, grimacing. Honestly, you’d think that anything tongue-adjacent would feel good against a clit, but that’s just not true. Txetyo seems to have an affinity for moving his tongue rapidly and aimlessly against you, resulting in nothing better than the occasional teasing — definitely by accident.

You shift a little, try to angle your hips so that Txetyo’s mouth is over your clit, but he doesn’t seem to pick up on what you’re attempting to do at all. He just moves his mouth away, jabbing his tongue sort of aimlessly at your left labia.

“Could you– a bit higher–” You say, trying to shift again.

Txetyo’s mouth is rather sloppy against your pussy, but you’re not actually sure what he’s doing down there. He seems to be missing every possible nerve ending that might feel good, which is actually a little bit impressive.

You sigh, and just resign yourself to getting bad head. You let your head thunk back against the mossy forest floor, your legs hanging off of Txetyo’s big shoulders as he hunches between your thighs.

It’s almost imperceptible, but the quiet ‘crack’ of a twig breaking underfoot has your head snapping around in a panic.

Though night has fallen, it’s never truly dark on Pandora. The moss beneath you glows faintly, illuminating the outline of your body as you lay there with Txetyo getting busy between your legs. The trees and foliage around you are similarly phosphorescent, your surroundings all lit up in luminous vibrance.

Pandora’s bioluminescence is beautiful; it also means that you can see Neteyam’s figure all dimly lit up as he leans against the trunk of a tree about fifteen feet away.

Neteyam’s head is cocked to the side as he very obviously takes in the scene before him, his head turning to scan up and down your body. His little luminous freckles are lit up and glowing, and it’s impossible to miss the fact that his golden eyes are fixed on you, so intense that it’s almost breathtaking.

You almost scream. You mean to, but instead you moan, completely by accident, and Txetyo groans between your legs.

You don’t know what to do. You’re gaping at Neteyam, who seems all too content to just watch you, meanwhile Txetyo is totally oblivious. He’s still doing nothing right, but something deep inside you pulses.

Moments later, much to your horror, Neteyam takes a small, tentative step forward. He stands only a few feet away, behind Txetyo and in plain view of you.

Go away! You mouth, staring at him in disbelief.

Neteyam scratches his head, feigning confusion, and then he takes another step forward.

He doesn’t say anything. Why isn’t he saying anything? It’s not the first time he’s walked in on you in a situation like this, but usually by this point he’s started making snarky comments, which in turn makes the men you’re with scramble away from you like you’re diseased.

Your dress is pushed up clumsily around your stomach, exposing your pussy. There’s a man between your legs. You’re in the process of getting fucked and Neteyam is watching, goddammit.

It definitely, absolutely is not hot. And yet… your hips twitch, and your breath hitches.

“That feel good?” Txetyo asks, peering up to grin at you. Your attention is dragged back to him and you blink, dazed.

“Yeah,” You lie. “So good.”

“Mm,” Txetyo hums in satisfaction, slipping two fingers into you. “Good.”

You grunt at the stretch of his thick fingers, breathing deep. His mouth returns, his fingers jabbing kind of aimlessly, but it hardly matters. Your attention is locked on Neteyam, and it’s somehow making Txetyo’s useless attempts feel somewhat invigorating.

“Oh god,” You gasp. You’re so confused. Part of you is still waiting for Neteyam to speak up, to make a sound or to clear his throat. Something. But he just watches on, his pretty eyes dark.

“Mm, so pretty,” Txetyo murmurs from between your legs, still blissfully unaware of your onlooker. “Can I fuck you now, tawtute?”

Despite yourself, you find your eyes darting over to Neteyam. The stupid fucker is still looking, and when he sees that you’ve looked at him his lips quirk. Your whole body flushes deep with heat, and you try to pretend like you aren’t taking direction from him; usually, his appearance would have stopped this entire encounter dead in its tracks. But you’re continuing, and the fact is, you feel as though you need his permission or something.

“Y-yes.” You say.

Neteyam purses his lips, and raises his non-existent brows. Fuck, what does that mean?

“How would you like me to–”

“Just like this.” You blurt. It feels, for some reason, as though you can’t risk Txetyo noticing Neteyam. This is the only way you can see Neteyam without Txetyo noticing him, anyway.

Txetyo shuffles up your body, his bulk dwarfing you. There’s a moment’s struggle as he’s lining himself up against your pussy, groaning low as he pushes into you. The stretch is intense, and a little painful, as always; you never quite get used to the bone-deep satisfaction of that achey biting stretch in your cunt.

The stretch is satisfying, like it always is, but it’s not necessarily special. Txetyo is not as evenly proportioned as he looks, and his cock is smaller than other Na’vi you’ve been with. That is, mostly, a good thing; it means he can fuck you without lube, which you usually have to use to accommodate the shocking stretch of taking a Na’vi cock. It also means that you adjust to having him inside you a little quicker, your muscles easing gradually around the intrusion of his dick.

What is special (or at least unusual) is the fact that Neteyam is still watching. You stare back, maintaining a bewilderingly intense sort of eye contact. Txetyo groans as your cunt clenches down on him, and he lowers his face to bury it in your shoulder; like this, your view of Neteyam is completely unimpeded.

“Ah! You’re so tight,” Txetyo hisses. “This is okay?”

“Yes,” You gasp. “You can move.”

And by God, does Txetyo move. He jerks in and out of you with a complete lack of coordination. You bounce and flop against the luminescent bed of moss beneath you, occasionally throwing a hand over your head to try and anchor yourself to a tree root behind you, just to stay put for a second or two.

Neteyam is undoubtedly amused. He has a hand pressed to his mouth, and the skin around his eyes is scrunched up with mirth. At one point, when Txetyo starts humping into you so desperately that you grunt, wincing, Neteyam doubles over himself completely, laughing silently.

“Oh, oh,” Txetyo groans. “Tawtute, I am going to– you are so tight, so hot inside–"

You smack one of Txetyo’s hands away from where he’d been rubbing determinedly at the side of your vulva. You rub at your clit instead in fast, harsh circles, staring at Neteyam desperately. You don’t actually know what you’re looking for, or what you want him to do… but you want him to do something.

Neteyam reaches down to palm the bulge at the front of his tewng that you hadn’t even noticed until now, and you moan. You rub yourself even faster, attempting to angle your hips in any way that could increase your pleasure from Txetyo. It seems impossible, but you manage to catch one or two good strokes.

“Please, please—!” You gasp, eyes wide as you maintain eye contact with Neteyam over the wide bulk of Txetyo’s shoulders.

Neyeyam moans. It’s low, barely noticeable under Txetyo’s own strangled sounds, but you hear it clearly. Your body seizes up and then you’re coming, gasping high and quick as you drink Neteyam in with your eyes, frozen under Neteyam’s gaze in turn.

“Unnng,” Txetyo grunts as he comes too, thrusting into you through the last shocks of his orgasm.

You barely even blink, your eyes fixed wide open as you tremble, your breaths shaky. Neteyam doesn’t break eye contact either, watching you so damn closely that it feels bizarrely as though he’s watching a show you’re putting on, as though all of this is for him. The worst part is you feel as though you’d be lying if you said it wasn’t.

Neteyam silently turns and slips away through the foliage, and Txetyo flops onto the mossy ground beside you moments later, breathing heavily.

“That was good.” Txetyo sighs, his voice thick with satisfaction.

You don’t reply, still staring at the place Neteyam had disappeared into the trees. You’re partly unable to believe what just happened and partly turned on beyond belief, just knowing it did.

What the fuck?

[whocaresstillthelouvre]

Dispose Of Me

Pairing: Javier Peña x Female Reader Rating: Explicit. 18+ (Minors DNI) Summary: Javier Peña needs you... and you're moving away in two weeks. Warnings: Smut, unprotected p in v sex (be safe IRL), oral (f receiving), reader is picked up, Javi can't stop smoking, post S3 Laredo Peña, feelings. Words: 1,800

A/N: @ohheypedrito asked me to write Javier and this is what I came up with. This is my first time writing Javi, so I hope I did him justice. @undercoverpena posted this mood board a couple of weeks ago that matched the exact vibes of this piece, I even went in and added the last line because of it. Thank you to @pascalispretty for beta'ing.

Masterlist

___

His new life haunts him. 

Fix a fence, wire the new security light, drive to town to pick up more feed, crack a well deserved beer open at dinner, fall asleep in the bed that’s too small. 

Wake up and repeat. 

Funny how the simple life feels like it’s killing him. 

He lights a cigarette, the nicotine drowning his inner turmoil; a billow of smoke suspires out of his lungs, floating away into the night sky. He wishes he could follow it far away. 

He needs you. 

___

Three quick raps against the door shocks you out of your mindless channel surfing. Javi. You fight a smile before checking yourself in the mirror, lying to yourself that you didn’t buy all the new silky lingerie for him. 

You lie to yourself a lot. You haven’t fallen for him, you don’t think about him all the time, other men have made you feel this special, you’re not going to miss him once you leave.

A quick shake of your head and a wiggle of your shoulders helps steel yourself before opening the door. Your breath hitches at the beauty… Javier Peña, the handsomest man with the biggest brown eyes and tightest Wrangler jeans you’ve ever seen lunges at you and wraps his arms around your barely covered figure. 

“Usually you call, wha–” a searing kiss interrupts you, his plush mouth sets a hungry fire inside you. 

Your body leaves the ground as Javi lifts you up into his hold, your legs instinctively enveloping his hips, hands taking hold around his thick neck as he walks to your bedroom. His lips don’t leave yours as he effortlessly navigates around your moving boxes. 

“Need you baby,” he pants against your neck. “Need you so much.” 

You’re thrown on the bed, mouth agape, lungs panting for air still recovering from his kiss. Javi swiftly undresses, his orange shirt and blue jeans fly across the room and land on your reading chair.

He flicks the light on, flooding the room with sweet tangerine hues. He stands at the foot of your bed, broad body looming, pouty lips parted underneath his downturned mustache. He’s the picture perfect example of a man in charge, standing immobile with his hands on his hips; the only movement is his wide brown eyes roaming your body. He swallows, his Adam’s apple bobs in his toned neck. The tension radiating off of his body reaches out and grabs your heart, making it pitter patter even harder against your chest. 

“I need you,” he whispers, his frame casting a shadow over your quivering body as he slowly climbs on the bed.

A kiss is placed against your temple; he inhales the citrus scent of your conditioner and sighs. His mouth moves down your face before parting your lips with his, his sharp nose pressing into your cheek when he deepens the kiss. He tastes of coffee and cigarettes. You melt into the bed under his weight, his tongue swirling around your mouth drinking down your gasps and mews. A soft groan rumbles out of his throat when you suck his tongue into your mouth. 

He’s different tonight. His kisses feel more desperate, the weight of him presses harder, his eyes stare harder, his voice sounds gruffer. 

He bunches the pink silk of your tank top up before covering your breast with his large hand, kneading it in his hold. 

“Javi,” you moan, feeling his hardening cock press against your panties. 

“Do you just sit around your apartment dressed like this every night baby?”

He licks his way down your neck, sucking and nuzzling his mouth against the curve of your collar bone. 

“Most– ahh– nights,” you whimper. “Usually wear it in case you call or knock on my door.”

“Fuck,” he growls. His cock grows more rigid, pressing harder against your now aching core dripping wet and waiting for him. 

His lips perch against the skin stretched across your chest, leaving a gentle kiss right where your heart beats.

“I can feel your heartbeat against my lips, hermosa.”

He cups your breasts between his hands, encompassing his head in between your flesh, his inhalation of your scent sends goosebumps through your skin… as if he’s trying to memorize every part of you before time runs out. He pulls back, tongue peeking out to wet his lips, dark eyes under pleading eyebrows staring into everything you have- body, mind, heart and soul. 

”I need you,” he rasps.

You pet his hair, running your fingers through the soft waves. 

“I know,” you whisper from your heart.

Javi. 

He turns his head, laying a wet kiss against your nipple before sucking it into his mouth. A breath of a bite hits against your sensitive skin, your fingers tug at his hair. A throaty groan encourages you to pull harder. 

He licks a stripe across taking your other nipple in his mouth– another bite, another hair tug, another throaty groan. 

He rubs his hard cock against your core, his precum soaks against your drenched panties. 

“You’re already so wet for me, aren’t you baby?”

An ache rolls through your entire body.  

“Yes Javi.”

“Yes you are, baby. Want to taste you first.” 

He settles between your thighs, jet black hair shining against your skin. 

His tongue dips in your folds, swimming through the lush wetness you’ve spilled for him. 

A lap up, a lap down, his tongue striding all along your sensitive skin. 

You sink in the abyss of his touch.

“Mm close Javi,” you sob. 

He moans a reassuring sound. His head undulating a reassuring nod taps his nose against your clit. Your hands claim his hair, pulling him even closer into you, your hips grinding against his face riding the wave of pleasure. 

You fall off the horizon, diving into the depth of your orgasm. Javier Peña is not only a giver, but also a taker, taking everything your pussy will give him. You swell underneath him, your hands pulling his soft hair, your voice screaming his name. He drinks you down like he’s a shipwrecked man.

You float atop your coral sheets, Javi’s soft kisses to your thigh anchoring you from drifting farther. 

___

“I-I need you Javi,” you muster.

His head pops up from between your legs, beautiful mouth shining with your sweetness. He licks his lips savoring the heady taste of you before he covers your body with his, crushing you, firm muscles pressing into your skin. 

“You need me?” His cock ghosts against your entrance that’s begging for something to clench around.

”Yes Javi.”

”Okay hermosa, okay.”

All at once you’re filled with Javier Peña. His hips meet yours when he plunges himself fully into your heat.

Your lungs squeal as you wrap your legs around his lower back, giving him more access to all of you. He’s deliberate in his pace, slow thrusts adoring you with each push and pull. His lips take purchase of your mouth.  

You immerse one another in the sway of each other’s bodies. 

“Two weeks,” he grunts against your lips. “I don’t think I can live without your pussy, baby.”

Your fingers clutch his taut shoulders; you don’t know if he meant to let that information out.

“I’ll miss you so much,” you confess, getting lost in his divulgence.

“Shhh, don’t talk like that,” his lips mold the words on your skin. His thumb finds your clit and rubs a slow circle around it instantly replacing your sadness with a jolt of pleasure. 

You gasp at the sensation.

“Need to make you feel good,” Javi pulls away, he stares into your eyes, “in your body and heart baby.” 

“Jaaaaaviiii,” your exhale is replaced by his name. 

He drives harder into you, your legs tighten around him, your hands grip his skin harder. 

Your bed rattles against the wall, the metal headboard clangs against the plaster. 

THUMP

“I”

THUMP

“need”

THUMP

“you.”

Your knuckles turn white against his skin as he pounds into your pussy. His eyes don’t leave yours, you’re drowning in the pools of his dark brown eyes as you orgasm, squeezing his cock and pulling him down with you, flooding him with your release.

He bites your name as he pulls out, your legs thudding against the bed as he draws his orgasm out. His focus doesn’t leave your face as thick white ropes fall on your stomach. 

Your body rocks against the soft waves of the bed, lulled to a higher place of being from Javi’s care.

He flops down next to you panting for air with his forearm resting over his forehead. 

You turn and cuddle into his side, resting your head on his broad chest.

“I need you,” Javi whispers so low you swear he’s only saying it to himself. 

Your world shifts, he tells you everything in those three words he keeps repeating. Time is frozen as you both stay silent.

___

You reach for Javi in the darkness and find your bed empty. A deep timbred sigh behind you catches your attention. You roll over blinking your bleary eyes open, gulping at the sight ahead of you. 

He stands naked by the window, a puff of smoke dissipating in the warm summer air breezing in from the open window. The sunrise paints his body in glowing umber. 

“You know I don’t like it when you smoke in here Javi.” He stamps the cigarette out and walks over to the bed. His body gleams from the yellow street light buzzing outside your window. He sits on the edge of your bed and lifts your legs into his lap. 

“You know I don’t like it when you move a thousand miles away and don’t ask me to follow you.”

“I can’t ask you to do that.”

“You’re not asking me to do anything if I want to do it.”

“But, your dad?”

“He tells me I can leave at any time,” his hand strokes your leg, “I just haven’t had a reason to… until you.”

“Javi, don’t be ridiculous. You can’t just pick up and move away. What are you going to do there?”

“I already called the office, there’s a job waiting for me there. I just have to tell them I want it. Baby, I need you.”

___

“Good morning, I’m Javier Peña, the new head agent here. Shall we get started?”

Javi sticks his hand in his suit jacket pocket, discovering a piece of paper.

He smiles when he sees your note: Good luck on your first day! See you at home. Xxx

He reminds himself to buy you a bouquet of flowers before heading home. 

[misspygmypie]

Meet & Greet... and more? Pt. 4

Pairing: Lando Norris x reader Words: 2179 Click here for Part 3

Please do not repost, thank you, and leave some feedback :)

Lando stood in the paddock tapping his foot impatiently as he checked his watch for what felt like the hundredth time. Today was race day and while the adrenaline from the race was always thrilling it was the thought of seeing Y/N and her son that made him particularly excited this morning.

Oscar walked in and his eyes widened as he saw Lando practically bouncing on his toes. “You’re really pumped today. I take it you had a good evening with them?”

“Last night was amazing. We had dinner together and Noah fell asleep on my lap. Y/N and I had a fantastic conversation too! I’ve been thinking about them a lot. I just can’t wait to see them today.”

“It’s great to see you so happy about it.”

Before Lando could respond Y/N and Noah entered the hospitality area. Noah’s eyes were wide with wonder, soaking in the sights and sounds of race day. Y/N looked relaxed and happy, her smile warm as she scanned the room.

“Good morning, champ” Lando called out with a grin, waving enthusiastically. Noah’s face broke into a grin as he spotted him, he wiggled himself out of his mom’s hold and moments later got scooped up by the young driver. 

“Are you gonna win today?” he asked with earnest curiosity.

Lando’s eyes twinkled as he held Noah close. “I’m going to do my best. It’s wonderful to have you here cheering me on!”

Noah nodded solemnly, his tiny face serious. “I’m sure you’ll win. You’re the best!”

“He’s been saying that all morning,” Y/N joined in, “I think he’s your biggest supporter.”

“There’s just one little thing missing,” Lando replied before putting the boy down and darting off towards a table in the back. He returned a few moments later, carrying two neatly folded shirts. One was a child-sized shirt and the other was slightly larger but still snug. Both shirts had the name Norris and the number 4 printed on the back. Lando handed Noah his shirt first. “I thought you might like to wear this today.”

Noah’s eyes grew wide in awe as he took the shirt. “I always wanted one of those because it’s got your name on it!”

“That’s right,” Lando said, crouching down to help Noah put on the fabric over his head and helping him getting his arms through the small holes. “Now you have one and you’ll be my lucky charm.”

Once Noah was all set Lando turned to Y/N holding out the larger shirt. “And this one’s for you. Just in case you want to show a bit of support too.”

Y/N accepted the shirt with a grateful smile. “Thank you, Lando. This is really sweet of you.”

As she slipped it on the Brit felt his heart beat faster. Seeing Y/N in his shirt, the fabric hugging her figure perfectly, made his pulse quicken. The way she looked in it was effortlessly stunning and the sight of her wearing something so personal to him sent a rush of warmth through him. 

Noah beamed, his shirt fitting perfectly and he looked up at Lando with stars in his eyes. “I’m going to cheer so loud for you!”

Lando chuckled, then led them into the garage, where the atmosphere was already buzzing with activity but far more controlled than in the paddock. 

He led them to a quieter corner where he had set up a special area for them. “I thought Noah might like to be even more involved,” Lando said with a grin. He handed the boy a pair of large, padded headphones. “These are for you, they’ll let you listen to everything that’s going on in my car. How cool is that?”

“Wow, really? This is so awesome!”

“Enjoy the race, buddy, I’m going to get suited up now,” he directed at the boy and took a step toward Y/N. “Before I go, I just want to say thank you for coming and supporting me.”

He opened his arms and, without waiting for a response, pulled Y/N into a gentle hug. As he held her close he softly placed a light kiss on the top of her head. “It means a lot to me that you’re here.”

Y/N, surprised but touched, hugged him back and smiled. With that Lando headed towards his car, leaving Y/N and Noah in their special viewing area. 

Will, Lando’s engineer, had been observing the interaction and an idea popped into his head. “Hi, Noah! I hear you’re going to be our special guest today. Do you want to help me with something very important?”

Noah smiled at the man and listened to what he had to do.

_____

Once Lando was in his car and settled for the race he heard a crackling over the radio. “Hello, Lando! Can you hear me?”

The driver’s eyes widened in surprise and a chuckle escaped him as he realized who it was. The sound of the young, enthusiastic voice was both adorable and unexpected. “Wow, Noah, is that you?” he said, his voice warm and amused.

Noah’s voice crackled through the radio with an endearing, high-pitched cheerfulness that immediately brightened the garage. “Yes, it’s me! I’m doing the radio check. How do you hear me?”

The crew, used to the serious tone of race day communications, paused and exchanged amused glances. The atmosphere in the garage was noticeably lighter as Lando laughed quietly. “Loud and clear, Noah. You’re coming through perfectly. How’s everything on your end?”

The 4-year-old, clearly delighted that the radio check was such a big success, did a little happy wiggle in his seat. “Everything’s good and everyone’s working really hard. Good luck, I’m cheering for you!”

“That’s great to hear and thanks buddy, I’ll do my best out there.”

“Great job, Noah,” Will’s voice came through next. “You’re all set. Lando, we’re ready to go when you are.”

After spending the first half of the race in the garage Y/N and Noah decided they wanted to see more of the cars and found their seats in the spectator area. They watched as the cars whizzed by, the sound of engines loud and Lando’s car flying past them near the front of the pack. Y/N felt her heart race with every lap, her gaze flicking between the track and her son’s excited face.

“Look, Noah! Lando’s in the top three” Y/N pointed out as they approached the final laps.

Noah’s eyes sparkled with excitement. “Go, Lando! You can do it!”

As the final lap of the race drew to a close they were on the edge of their seats, eyes glued to the track. The roar of the crowd was deafening as Lando crossed the finish line in second place, securing a spot on the podium. Y/N’s heart swelled with pride and she glanced down at Noah, who was practically vibrating with excitement.

“I knew he could do it, mommy!”

During the podium ceremony Lando stood proudly on the second-place step, a beaming smile on his face. His eyes scanned the crowd and after searching for a little while he locked eyes with Y/N, raising his hand in a friendly wave, his grin widening.

When the ceremony ended, Y/N and Noah made their way back to the paddock, eager to see Lando once more. They finally spotted him chatting with his team but his attention was immediately on the boy he saw running towards him, his small arms outstretched.

Lando’s eyes lit up and he quickly scooped Noah up, lifting him into a warm, enthusiastic hug. 

“Hey there, champ” Lando said, his voice filled with affection. “You did an amazing job earlier and I’m so glad you’re here.”

Still holding Noah, Lando turned towards Y/N with a smile that spoke volumes, embracing her tightly. The hug was unexpected but warm and genuine and it made Y/N’s heart skip a beat.

Lando’s team, who had been observing the interaction, exchanged knowing looks. They noticed the connection between Lando and Y/N, something that went beyond the typical fan-driver relationship. 

After a few more minutes of conversation Lando took a deep breath, his gaze softening as he looked at Y/N while Noah was being entertained by one of his team members. “I was wondering… would you be interested in having dinner with me? I’ve arranged for a babysitter at the hotel, so Noah will be in good hands.”

Y/N’s eyes widened in surprise, the invitation somewhat surprising her. “I’d love to,” she replied smiling, her heart fluttering in her chest, “but is it really okay with the babysitter?”

“Absolutely,” Lando nodded with a reassuring smile. “I want you to enjoy the evening without any worries. What do you say?”

Y/N glanced at Noah for a second and then brought her attention back to the young man in front of her. “I’d be happy to join you.”

“Perfect,” Lando said, his smile broadening. “I was hoping you would agree.”

_____

An hour and a half later Lando paced restlessly in his hotel room, his mind swirling with nerves. The dinner with Y/N was rapidly approaching and despite the excitement he found himself overwhelmed.

His phone buzzed and for a second he feared it was Y/N telling him she couldn’t make it and was relieved when he saw it was a text from his team mate.

Oscar: Hey, mate! Heard you’ve got a big night ahead. Need some company or advice?

Lando let out a deep breath and quickly responded. 

Lando: Yes, please. I’m losing my mind right now.

A few minutes later there was a knock on Lando’s door. He opened it to find Oscar standing there with a reassuring smile. “Thought I’d drop by and help you out. How’s it going?”

Lando stepped aside to let him in, still fidgeting with the buttons of his shirt. “I’m a mess. I’ve never been this nervous before a date. What if I mess up?”

Oscar took a seat on the edge of the bed and glanced at Lando’s outfit, a smart but casual ensemble consisting of black pants and a simple white dress shirt. “You look great. Seriously. What’s got you so worked up?”

Lando rubbed the back of his neck, his eyes flicking to the mirror trying to smooth out some crinkles in his shirt. “It’s just, what if Y/N doesn’t feel the same way? I mean, I haven’t known her and Noah for very long. What if I’m reading it all wrong?”

Oscar leaned back, crossing his arms thoughtfully. “From what I’ve seen she seemed genuinely interested in you. And Noah adores you, kids usually have a good sense of these things.”

“I hope you’re right,” Lando nodded slowly but still looked unsure. “It’s just… I can see a future with them. Even though it’s been such a short time, something about them feels right. I mean, Y/N is so incredibly beautiful, inside and out. And Noah, he’s just the cutest kid ever. I can’t stop thinking about how perfect they are.”

Oscar raised an eyebrow. “Wow, you really are smitten, huh?” He asked amused,” who would have thought that Lando Norris, the ladies’ man, would be here thinking about settling down?”

Lando blushed, running a hand through his hair. “Yeah, well, I didn’t expect it either. But it just feels different this time. I’ve never felt this way so quickly about someone. I mean, Y/N is just… she’s so kind and genuine. The way she smiles and the way she talks, it’s like she lights up the room. And Noah, he’s just this perfect little kid. I’ve barely known them, but it feels like there’s something really special here.”

Oscar chuckled, clearly enjoying Lando’s heartfelt monologue but wanting to reassure his friend. “If you’re feeling this way, I’d say it’s a good sign.”

“Yeah, but what if I’m getting ahead of myself? What if I’m imagining something that’s not really there?”

“Look, sometimes you just have to take a leap of faith. It’s clear you’ve made a great impression on both of them. Just be yourself tonight, trust me, that’s all you need to do.”

Lando took a deep breath, trying to absorb Oscar’s words. “Thanks, Oscar. I guess I’m just overthinking things.”

“Yeah, that sounds about right,” Oscar said with a grin. “Now, let’s make sure you look sharp. You’re already halfway there.”

With Oscar’s help, Lando made final adjustments to his outfit and took a few moments to steady himself. The tension in his shoulders eased slightly, and a hint of confidence began to return.

“Alright,” Lando said, looking at himself in the mirror with a determined nod. “I think I’m ready.”

Oscar walked up to his friend, giving him an encouraging nod and brotherly pat on the back. “Good luck, mate. Go and have a great time. I’ll be here waiting to hear all about it.”

Lando smiled, feeling a renewed sense of calm. “Thanks, Oscar. I appreciate it.”

_________

Click here for Part 5!

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[imaginealpha]

9, 25, 69

Battle Cry - Imagine Dragons

Stars are only visible in darkness / Fear is ever-changing and evolving / and I, I've been poisoned inside / but I, I feel so alive

Candy - The Blasting Company

The cities they will burn / and families will crack / The hate that drove us from our homes / will drag the living back / and limping from the darkness / with our hatred in our tracks / a long and lonely shadow there / can never be undone

Run To Me ( from the "Home" soundtrack) - Clarence Coffee Jr.

Fell for you once, I'll dive again / through heaven 'n' hell against the wind / We love like simple people do