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screampied · 5 months

Note

hi hi!! Can i req a choso with him being gentle and sweet at sex w reader? :( like he would always be careful and always gives reader praises ahdjshsjeh </3

꒰ warnings . . choso x fem!reader, soft dom choso, praise, size difference, missionary. mdni. wc: 1.1k

choso has to remind himself of how much bigger he is compared to you.

the way his broad frame effortlessly towers over you, especially during intimacy. he’d never wanna break you, his precious girl.

you’d be laid against your back, a perfect position so he can look at you right in the eyes, compliment you with a plethora of sweet sweet praises, kiss you, and even moan in your ear, making sure you know how good you’re making him feel.

“m-missed you,” he’d softly pant—his tip just shakily hovering against your slickness, he licks his lips with a hand gently pressed down against your tummy, a smooth stroke before he speaks in a cute drowsy voice, eyes half lidded. “look at me. here, hold my hand baby. please. ‘s okay.”

you reach to hold his hand, and a tiny smile tugged against his lips, he leans into your neck before he moans at the sudden squeeze your walls give him.

adjusting to him and that feeling always makes him do that thing where he moans out your name against your neck, playfully seeping his teeth against your shoulder. “g-god, don’t let go princess. jus’ hold onto me, okay? i’ll please you good, promise.”

“o-okay.” you swallowed, intertwining your fingers with his, and his fingers were surprisingly cold. the moment his touch ran and collided against yours though, oh how hot and warm he felt.

choso could praise you all day.

his strokes weren’t rough but they were just enough of a good amount to drag out sweet whimpers from you, he’d be pressed up against your ear as his length expands throughout your cunt, prodding against a few of your most sensitive spots to make your legs involuntarily lock around his slim waist.

“hold onto me, jus hold onto me.” he’d hum, and he was whining even more than you. softly licking a stripe up your neck, your right arm hooked around his shoulders, cutely clinging onto him in a romantic missionary position.

choso swallows thickly, peppering many kisses on your face, then it lead down towards your neck and collarbone — before he pauses mid thrust just to say, “oh…you’re jus’ so perfect.”

the way you’d immediately grow flustered at his words, averting your eyes away before lightly squeezing on his arm, moaning for him to keep going because you could still feel him harden and twitch inside of you.

“r-right, sorry baby. just had to admire you for a second…”

his tone was so smooth, almost bittersweet with the way he spoke to you. choso couldn’t help but sneak kisses on your mouth throughout his sloppy thrusts. his hips moved and went at its own reasonable pace — you always found it attractive how he couldn’t stop himself from deliberately moaning into your mouth. he’d always do it whenever his lips went against yours.

“you’re doin’ so good, s-so good, look at how pretty you look underneath me.” he’d mumble, raising his chin up to kiss your forehead.

while in the position, he couldn’t help but be a bit handsy to say the least. just running the very soft tips of his fingers against every curve and inch of your body….slowly.

taking in your breathtaking frame — a word he’d always use around you because that’s how he viewed you. “good girl, are you getting close? want me to s-slow down?”

“no,” you’d moan, wrapping both arms around his neck now. his movements of his hips, a good yet tad bit of a quicken pace had you bite your lip, his body heat, the sheer warmth of it had your mind just spinning. you merely lost your train of thought before you feel yourself approaching a release and your head goes back. “c-choso,” you’d whine out. and the way his eyes immediately light up at hearing his name come from your sweet mouth. “….think ‘m gonna cum, ‘m close.”

“me too, baby,” he’d rasp, his jaw tightens a bit before he leans in to kiss the side of your mouth. his ears—at least the very tips of them grow out to be so hot, feeling your pussy just grip around him and hug him close. “you look so pretty like this, y’know?”

“you’re just saying that.” you shyly utter.

“noooo i’m really not,” he cracks a smile before gasping once you drag his waist closer against you, making him hit against you just a tad bit deeper. “eheh, baby, you’re so frisky. are you sure this isn’t too rough? don’t wanna—”

you cut him off by bringing him into a kiss, it’s like his mind goes straight blank whenever you do that. the way your tongue runs across his, one hand stroking his cheek—for a moment you swear you could have heard him purr, his hair was down so it just prickled against your forehead.

you pull away before moaning, “i’m okay, i promise.”

“yeah?” he’d say, a tiny pout making his lip quiver.

“yeah.” you reassure him, reaching for his hand to squeeze it.

“…okay,” he inhales a breath. you were so cute it was almost too much for him. the way you brush a thumb against his hand, giving him kind eyes that this was what you wanted. he gives you a final kiss on the top of your head before he starts talking you through your orgasm. “just relax, okay? this is all about you, not me. wanna make you feel good.”

and he was so intent on doing that, he studied your facial expressions — the way your eyes would roll a bit in pleasure, your body language and how you’d fail to stay still, squeezing down on his hand.

“i know baby,” he murmurs, kissing the bottom of your chin. “you’re doin’ amazing, just let go for me, hold on tight ‘n don’t let go alright?” and the way his tip, his tip alone massages your inner walls has you stuttering on empty blank words, your mouth was a straight empty canvas. “look at me, hey hey don’t look away,” he whispers. “wanna see those pretty eyes roll when you cum.”

“f-fuck,” you’d babble out, hugging him, if one can consider that hugging. his body weight hovers against you, just rocking back and forth and it was so lewd, his thrusts against you were so sensual it left you with a good taste in your mouth. “okay, okay. c-choso, fuck, h-hold me.”

“i got you.” he’d whisper, it was almost like he sang it. the moment you came, feeling the immense pressure that was building up finally release itself, your legs spasmed and your orgasm was ripped away, you stared at choso before turning away and he smiles to himself. he brings a hand up to your head — a brief head pat, massaging your scalp a bit with his fingers before sharing a deep kiss with you.

he slowed down completely, just slowly rocking against you as your legs twitched, wrapping against his waist and never letting go.

“good girl,” he says between kisses, he tastes so sweet — peppering your entire face with kisses until he cracks a smile from you. “my good girl.”

#★vegasbaby.#choso x reader #choso kamo smut #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #choso smut #jujustsu kaisen x reader #jjk x you #jjk x reader #anime smut #female reader

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gauloiseblue · 2 months

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You always joked about how you'd find out what's beneath his mask someday. Literally and figuratively.

He'd scoff at your attempts, or suggestions to lift up his sniper mask. Some of them caught him off guard, to the point he almost did it if not for his logical mind. But some of them were downright ridiculous, that he couldn't help but snort.

Maybe you already accepted it from the start, that he would never give in, but it had become a harmless jest at this point, so you might as well keep it going.

Until he gives you permission.

The thing is, it doesn't make you happy—it scares you to death instead. He once bit off someone's finger when they poked it in the place they shouldn't have touched. So what's behind the mask couldn't be worth the pain.

At first, you thought of it as a warning. Yet he wasn't showing any signs of threat. He even pulled you closer, so you'd get a better view of him.

His mask stays on, but he lets you touch his face. Your hands hover an inch away from his veiled visage, before you test the water with a touch.

He doesn't flinch away, or charge at you like a venomous snake. He stays still, letting your hands cup his cheeks.

"Didn't you say you wanna feel my face?" He said as he brought you closer, causing a shiver down on your spine.

"I did," Your lips trembled slightly, "I'm doing it."

"You're not doing it right." He tugged your paralyzed hands onto his chest.

You're confused when he firmly grips both of your hands, before slowly sliding them under the hem of his hood.

"Inside, maus." He commanded you, "Tell me what you feel."

And so, you complied.

You reach into his mask, and touch his neck tentatively. For a brief moment, his muscles tense under your fingertips, before they come down relaxed.

"Oh." You murmured as you pressed your palm onto his nape, "You can certainly survive a fighter jet ride."

He doesn't give you any response, so you take it as a cue to continue.

Your hands creep up higher, until your fingers reach the soft bones of his ears. They seem small in your grasp, smaller than they should, for a man of his height. A quiet smile spreads in your lips, as you imagine the tiny shells that frame both sides of his face.

"I'm surprised you have clear skin." You commented when you caressed his cheek, feeling the texture of his skin, "I thought you'd have a problem with it since you always wore a mask."

"Not always." He replied, nudging you to roam further, "I took it off whenever I'm alone."

"Did you take care of it?"

"No."

"How unfair." You chuckled, "I want to have your skin."

He keeps his eyes on you, and you feel the need to clear your throat, before you trace the lines on his face.

"You have a big nose." You mused as you ran your finger down from the bridge of his nose, "It's crooked."

He hums, while his eyes follow your uncertain gaze.

"Why you stopped?" He called you out, and you jumped upon hearing them, "There's one place you haven't touched."

You bit your lips, trembling, as you lowered your hand, until you felt the soft lumps on your fingertips.

They form a thin line, before they split open, inviting your finger inside. Your breathing becomes labored, as he takes a hold on your hand, guiding your thumb into his mouth.

He doesn't break eye contact the whole time, and you're too paralyzed to look away. You feel the sharpness of his teeth as his lips are closing around your digit. You have anticipated the guillotine falling on the head of your thumb, yet what comes after is a soft brush of his tongue.

It was rough, and drenched with his saliva, that it formed a string at the time your thumb left his mouth.

"König—" You gasped when he dragged his lips down to your palm, before stopping on your wrist. Pressing his tongue on your pulse point, where the skin barrier is so thin, that it feels as if he's tasting your flesh.

"Scared, maus?" He muttered, his teeth scraped against your skin, "Are you scared of me?"

You stare at him, as your instinct screams at you to nod. But you shake your head, despite the tremble in your hands.

"Then you'll do as I say." He wraps his arm around your waist, leaving no room for you to run, "Take off my mask."

Your eyes widened, not believing what you just heard from his mouth. Alas, his glare is enough to confirm the truth.

He guides your hands to his mask, pushing it up in a manner that's close to unveiling a white cover. And once the mask is lifted, you have no time to admire him as he slams his lips against yours.

Your cry of surprise is swallowed by his mouth, as he pushes his tongue between your lips. You can't do anything but cling to him, as he presses your body down with his, until your back is flush against the cushion.

When you open your eyes, what greets you is a pair of eclipses. Gone was the cruel Colonel, as he's replaced by a voracious brute.

The moment he opens his mouth, you know you'll be devoured by him.

#i wrote 2 konig fics in one day there's something wrong with me #cod #cod mw2 #call of duty #konig x reader #könig x reader #könig cod #konig mw2 #is this cannibal core?#idk girl #yandere konig #there's something about fingers in a mouth...........#i'm normal i swear #I've fixed the 3rd person pov. just noticed it now. oopsie my bad

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luveline · 3 months

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Hi honey! I hope you’re taking care of yourself ❤️ I love love LOVE how you write! Can I please request bombshell reader x Spencer telling the team she’s pregnant 💕

thank you for requesting! <3 fem, 2k

“Spencer?”

Your quiet tone has his attention faster than any shouting would’ve; he expects high energy from you, and your murmur scares him half to death. He backtracks from the bathroom with his toothbrush still in his mouth, toothpaste dripping down his fingers as he yanks it out and asks, “What?”

“Is this okay?”

You chew your lip and turn to the side, illuminating your problem with a hand framed under your tummy. Your skin peeks out from the bottom of your shirt.

The wonder of you is that you’ve always been beautiful, always, in Spencer’s eyes at least if not the entire world’s, because of how you present yourself, and of course because of your big heart. Your smile, the way you talk, all of it is beautiful and, most of the time, measured. Your clothes are carefully picked, and now you’re changing and your clothes need to change with it —your bump has appeared faster than Spencer realised it would, and you haven’t had time to upgrade your wardrobe. The cases are endless and you’d been more interested in doctor’s appointments and house viewings than clothes shopping.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, perhaps a bit useless, white frothy paste sliding down his chin.

You smile momentarily, nervous on your feet as you adjust your shirt. “I think I look very pregnant.”

Spencer goes back into the bathroom to finish brushing. “You look mildly pregnant,” he agrees loudly over the rush faucet. He spits, wipes his face, and rinses his toothbrush.

“Compared to my usual non-pregnant look, I mean,” you say.

“It’s just that shirt’s a little tight,” he promises. “We’ll find something.”

You probably aren’t going to find something, you both realise. You stand in front of him in one of your soft bralettes, the ‘S’ of your pendant on your rising chest, shirtless and likely to stay that way. “Oh,” he says, tapping your bump gently with his knuckle. “Maybe it got bigger overnight.”

“I think so,” you agree, taking his hand where it hovers to press to the top of the slope of the bump. You’re holding his hand more than you’re protecting the bump, a perplexed frown on your lips as you kneed his fingers in yours.

“We don’t have time to go to the store, but we could be late,” he says.

“What if we have a case?”

“That’s a better reason to go shopping.”

You pout for a kiss, leaning up to press your lips to his wry smile. “No. Do you still have that maroon sweater? The one that didn’t fit you right, with the v-neck?”

Spencer helps you into said sweater though you don’t need his assistance, smoothing down the wrinkles carefully. It hides the too-short hem of your white shirt underneath, and paired with the collar, Spencer couldn’t be more in love with you. “You’re dressed like me five years ago,” he says.

“Like it?” you flirt, your cheeks apples with your smug smile, your hands under your chin.

“You really are glowing.”

“Don’t tempt me into kissing you stupid,” you say, still flirting, voice dipping into that warm, sweet place that probably caused the bump between you in the first place.

“You’re lucky I don’t kiss you stupid,” he jokes, putting an arm around you for a quick hug. “Too bad we need to work to save to buy a stupid house instead.”

“Have a stupid baby,” you mumble happily, your face pressed to his chest. He kisses your cheek.

You’re both in incredible moods when you finally make it to work, tethered together from the parking lot to the elevator to the BAU office. There’s been a lot more hand holding since you found out you were pregnant, though you’re trying to keep it private just a little bit longer. Hotch gets antsy about pregnant people in the field (though he’d never force you to stay home), and the others can tend to be overbearing.

You are excited to tell them. Spencer’s your family, the team is as good as, and they’ll all be so, so happy for you. At first you’d been waiting for the twelve week milestone for practicality’s sake, but now you’re just waiting for the right time.

“Clothes get lost in the move?” Morgan asks.

You aren’t telling them about the pregnancy, but you’re honest about other things. They know you’ve moved in with Spencer, and that you’re looking for a house. Morgan would’ve been offended if you hadn’t told him. He’d offered up a bunch of his properties to you both for viewing and promised a very good family and friends price point, but they hadn’t been perfect enough. It’s just a starter house, he’d argued, mostly unoffended at your pickiness.

He doesn’t realise that you and Spencer wanna raise a baby, and you want as perfect a home as possible for at least the toddler years before you start looking to move up the ladder. A family home.

“Very funny,” you praise, letting Spencer pull back your chair for you as you sit down. You feel the new extra roundness of your bump and wonder why nobody else has noticed it either. Spencer certainly can’t stop looking at it. You catch him all the time, and at night, alone and in bed, you let him run his hand up and down the hill of it, clearly amazed.

“It looks good on you, mama,” Morgan says.

You laugh. “Doesn’t everything?” you ask with an exaggerated smirk.

“Yes,” Spencer says.

You dip your head back in your chair. “This is why I love you.”

“Devotion,” Spencer guesses, wiping at a smudge of makeup under your eye tenderly.

You put your hand on your stomach. It’s weird how things change and don’t at the same time. You feel like you love him so much more now you’re a family with him, but you loved him endlessly before. Moments like this were plentiful and warm as sunshine, the undulating care in his touch a practised exercise at this point. You let your eyes close. He strokes your cheek.

“Hotch wants everyone in the conference room,” JJ says, announcing herself and her towering cup of coffee as she breezes past the bullpen.

You follow her upstairs to the conference room. Rossi, Hotch and Penelope are already waiting, everyone accompanied by their own creature comfort (coffee, coffee, and tea, respectfully). You and Spencer take seats opposite Hotch and Rossi, hands held together as always, his left in your right, his thumb kind against your knuckles.

“The jet is still pre-loading from last time, so we can’t leave until late tonight, but we will be leaving,” Hotch begins, nodding at Penelope. “Until then, we’ll work the case from here.”

She nods back and clicks onto some severely disgusting photographs.

You work through the facts together. Emily arrives late with apologies soon forgiven, your team a well-oiled machine. Of course, without being there, there’s only so much you can do, but it’s never not useful to have these discussions and to spitball with one another.

Spencer gets stuck in his head. You fight the urge to kiss his cheek as he’d kissed yours this morning and decide on a more work appropriate show of affection, popping down to the kitchenette to make him a cup of coffee.

You aren’t drinking coffee or anything caffeinated for the baby. You aren’t thirsty, but Spencer will worry if you don’t make yourself a drink too. You fill a glass with water from the sink and make your way back up the steps to the conference room.

“It looks like there’s a racial motivation,” Spencer’s saying to Morgan.

“Sure, but with only two victims so far, it could be coincidence,” Emily says.

“Or not,” JJ says with a frown.

“I think our killer would show it more, if it were,” you suggest, “there’s usually some aspect of overkill with hate crimes we aren’t seeing here.”

You put the cup of coffee down in front of Spencer and sit in your chair. The sleeves on his sweater are too long. You push them up for the tenth time.

“That’s Spencer’s?” Emily asks, having noticed your struggle.

“Oh, yeah. I’ve been sort of scatterbrained, I forgot to put a load in the dryer.”

“Is your go bag ready?” Hotch asks.

No. “Yeah, it’s fine. You don’t like my new look?”

“I’ve never known you to wear clothes that don’t fit,” Morgan says.

“What are you trying to say, Derek?” you ask, propping your face in your chin.

“You’re getting sloppy in your old age.”

You turn to Spencer, beaming, and he shakes his head at you immediately.

“And what’s with the water?”

Your smiling turns deer-in-the-headlights. “What?”

“You don’t drink coffee anymore?” Morgan prompts.

That piques the interest of Emily and Hotch simultaneously, but you know you’re caught when realisation colours JJ’s gaze. She stares straight at your glass, then your face. You can practically see her profiling your behaviour these last few weeks, the sudden trips to the bathroom, the worse than usual reluctance to be away from Spencer, and the sudden propensity for safer practice in the field.

You smile. You’re caught. You see Hotch’s expression and know he knows it, too.

You give Spencer a little nudge with your thigh, as though telling him, You say it. You know he wants to.

“You can’t have more than three hundred milligrams of caffeine when you’re pregnant,” Spencer says, his pride unmissable in the slight lift of his chin, “it disrupts midterm foetal growth. Our baby might come out too small, which isn’t what we want, obviously, so she can’t drink coffee. Not for another six months, at least.”

“Wha– wha– what?” Penelope asks, the physical manifestation of a kettle about to boil over, excitement bubbling and raring to explode as she grips the table. “You’re pregnant?”

“With Spencer?” Emily asks, though she’s laughing before she’s finished.

You frame his cheek with one hand and lean in to kiss it gently. “Who else?” you ask.

The best part is watching everybody hug Spencer. You’re happy they love you and you accept their congratulations and their love with pleasure, but seeing a room full of people thrilled for him finally getting the life he’s wanted, and knowing you’re at least part of the reason, is pretty sweet. You put your hand on your baby bump and take a mental picture of him under Morgan’s arm, his cheeks pink, his smile achingly wide.

Still, he cuts through his moment to reach for you. “Maybe someone else will be able to convince you to slow down,” he says, hand moving to your stomach protectively.

You pretend to think it over. “Maybe in a month or two.”

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer and bombshell reader

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wh0reforcoriolanussnow · 4 months

Text

When in L.A

Summary: while on a walk with your boyfriend, the both of you experience a horrible interaction with one of Jacob’s supposed fans.

Warnings: r is referred to being Australian but ofc you can change it :)

Wc: 574

A/n: decided to post a fic before i officially start school again tomorrow 🥹

enews

Liked by jacobelordiupdates, elordifan, and 3,098,261 others

Jacob spotted with his girlfriend y/n out in LA today!! The Aussie couple were playing around with their dogs while Jacob took a few photos of her :)

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user1: oh to be her 😫

user2: she’s so so pretty and seems so sweet ahh

user3: I wonder how they met lol

↘️ user4: pretty sure they knew each other since they were at school in Australia 😂

user5: did not know she was Australian? Omg what?

user6: when is it my turn 🥲

user7: thought he’d be dating someone famous but oop

↘️ user8: didn’t know celebrities had to only date other celebrities?

You and Jacob amble through the streets of Hollywood hills, the chill energy of the neighbourhood surrounding you as you take your dogs Layla and Freddie for a walk.

You’ve been friends since high school back in Australia and only started dating around 2 years ago when you visited LA and caught up with Jacob. And it was only a couple months ago you moved across the world to be with your boyfriend.

You weren’t foreign to the recognition Jacob garners, fans occasionally approach for a quick chat or photo, and for the most part, it’s a positive experience for the both of you.

A young woman, probably in her early 20s, spots Jacob from afar, her eyes widening with recognition. She hurries over, her excitement palpable. The two of you stop as he comes up, “Hi Jacob!” She excitedly greets, her phone ready for a selfie.

Jacob flashes his signature smile, “Hey, how’s it going?” The fan smiles widely, her full attention on your boyfriend as you stand to the side, “Great! Can I take a photo with you please?” She asks, “Yeah, sure.”

The fan, seemingly disregarding your presence, abruptly hands you her phone. “Take the photo for me,” she demands, her tone leaving no room for refusal. Caught off guard by her directness, you manage a surprised “Uh, sure.”

Even you could tell Jacob was caught off guard by her rude behaviour, his eyebrows slightly knitted. You reluctantly take the phone and frame the photo as the woman poses with Jacob, her hand around his waist as he respectfully hovers his hand on her back.

She glances at you with a dismissive look, as if you’re merely an accessory to the moment. “Make sure it’s good,” she commands, refocusing on Jacob as he visibly becomes agitated.

Despite the awkwardness, you snap the photo with a forced smile. The fan snatches her phone without a word of thanks and strides away, disappearing from view.

Jacob, sensing your discomfort, lets out a sigh. “She seemed nice” His voice laced with sarcasm as you chuckle. “They’re not usually like that, trust me.” He remarks, irritation evident in his voice.

Jacob puts a reassuring arm around your shoulders, “Don’t let it get to you. I didn’t even really smile in the photo,” He says with a cheeky grin as you couldn’t help but laugh.

Later that day, Jacob takes to his instagram page that he mostly posted work related things, and shared a photo of the two of you with your dogs, along with a thoughtful caption.

jacobelordi

Liked by yourusername, alexademie, sadiesoverall, jacobelordiupdates, and 8,038,297 others

Hey everyone! I don’t usually post things like this but it needs to be said. I love meeting you all in public, and I’m always grateful for your support. However, let’s remember to be respectful to everyone, including the people I’m with. Shoving phones in someone’s hand, demanding for them to take a photo and being rude isn’t cool. Let’s keep it a positive experience. Much love to you all!! ❤️

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yourusername: 🐶💗

↘️ jacobelordi: love you!

↘️ user1: awe 😭

rachelzegler: so glad you’re bringing this up!!

alexademie: PREACH 🙌

user2: I seriously don’t understand people who call themselves “fans” and do disrespectful shit like this

user3: Is this about the incident that happened today??

↘️ user4: yup. It’s all over Twitter and tiktok rn

↘️ user5: the “fan” is getting slandered so hard rn

user6: wait I’m so confused. What happened?

↘️ user7: basically a “fan” came up to Jacob and Y/n and demanded y/n to take the photo for them and she was just overall rude

user8: so funny how Jacob isn’t even smiling in the photo 😭

↘️ user9: HAHAHAHHA I WANNA SEE THIS PIC

↘️ user10: it’s on TikTok!!

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wlntrsldler · 3 months

Text

poisoned mercury (smut blurb) | r u mine?

MDNI! 18+. no tags for this one.

a/n: can be read alone (the only context you need is that luke calls reader 'five star') or as part of the poisoned mercury series!

series masterlist | set after just friends

r u mine? by arctic monkeys

the kiss started slow, like the two of you were trying to soak in the moment, content with the feeling of having your bodies connected. luke’s hands were hovering over your waist, testing the waters, unsure how far he could take it. you, on the other hand, weren’t shy. your fingers tangled in his curls, softly tugging, almost taunting him to let go of his apprehensions.

you pressed your lips harder against his own, a groan escaping his lips at your consent. his hands gripped the skin of your hips, rougher this time, pushing your bottom half against his own. you gasped against his lips, pulling away briefly to catch your breath, “luke.”

“say my name again,” his voice dripped in agony like he was in excruciating pain that it took him this long to hear his name from your lips like this. he wanted to hear it again and again and again, in shallow breaths, in broken murmurs, as you kissed his lips.

you left pecks along his scar before running your tongue over its ridges. it was primal, almost only fueled by desire and lust, but when you pulled away to view the hazed look on his face, you knew that it was never going to be purely physical with luke. something more intimate than your bodies pressed against each other remained. it always will. he pushed you against his chest, foot kicking the door to your room shut, “luke.”

“fuck, five star,” luke groaned into your collarbone, sucking and nipping at your neck, “you drive me fucking crazy.”

you tilted your head back, giving him more access. his lips sucked on the expanse of your exposed skin, moaning loudly as he soothed the red marks with the warmth of his tongue, “feeling’s mutual.”

you took his hand in yours, leading him to your bed. the back of your knees hit your bed frame and you fell with a soft thud, shoving the decorative pillows on the floor. luke leaned over you, the silver chain of his necklace dangling in between your bodies. his lips were raw from kissing, his hair mused in a messy way that had you weak in the knees, and his eyes were darker than you’d ever seen them. your hands shoved his flannel off his shoulders, sighing when you felt the bumps of his biceps flex under your touch. gods, he was painstakingly attractive.

once his flannel was discarded on the floor, he leaned back down to continue his attack on your lips. his arms were on either side of you, caging you in as if he wanted you to stay there, under him. you weren’t planning on leaving. you tugged on the neckline of his white t-shirt, pulling him flush against your body.

luke laid on top of you, hand snaking to cradle your jaw as he kissed you. he could get lost in this feeling. now that he’s had a taste of you, he didn’t think he could ever stop craving you. he was drunk. he was addicted. he wanted more.

“off,” you sighed into his mouth, tugging on his white shirt. “please, need to feel you.”

“jesus,” luke whined, tongue darting out of the corner of his lips. he pulled his shirt off, tossing it somewhere in your room. he was making a mess in your pristine room, but right now he couldn’t bring himself to care, not when you were looking at him like you needed him. “you can’t say things like that.”

your eyes left his face for a moment, looking down to trace the lines of his abs and his v-line. luke’s breath hitched in his throat as you dragged your finger right on top of the button on his jeans. you leaned in, placing kisses on his stomach, eyes looking up at him. you looked sinful like this. dazed with your siren eyes, silently pleading for him to make a mess of you. luke could never deny you of what you wanted, especially not this.

your pretty manicured fingers reached up to his chest, scratching just enough to turn his skin red. luke hissed, having to look away from you for a moment. you opened your legs, letting him slot himself between them. his cock was hard against your thigh and you moaned at the feeling. your noises were driving him crazy. he hasn’t even touched you yet, but you had a fucked out look on your face already.

when you took off your top, luke couldn’t help but pounce on you. he buried his face between your tits, pulling down the bra you wore to leave hickeys along your skin. he wanted to mark you, leave you reminders of this night for the next few days.

he inched closer to your nipples, looking up at you in permission. you nodded and luke wrapped his lips around the hardened buds. he relished in the feeling of your back arching, pushing him closer to your chest, and the feeling of your fingers finding their way back into his head of curls. he closed his eyes, as if he was dreaming, and if he was, he didn’t want to wake up from this. he’ll gladly stay here forever.

your hands fumbled with the zipper of his pants and he took that as a sign to do the same with yours. he trailed sloppy kisses back up to your lips where you were met with all teeth and tongue. you were both breathless at this point, but neither of you cared. oxygen be damned, this is what living feels like.

“fuck,” luke muttered when he saw the wet patch on your underwear. his cock was straining against his boxers, pre-cum leaking against the fabric. he grinded his hips against yours, letting out a whimper at the contact. “can i go down on you?”

you flushed at his request, turning your head to the side in shyness, “you don’t have to.”

“i want to,” he whispered, getting on his knees. he kissed your thighs, coming closer to your cunt after each one. he bit his lip, brushing his thumb against your slick-covered underwear. he waited for your answer, patient despite the pain of his hardened cock. he used his other hand to push against it, trying to alleviate some of the pressure. “been dreaming about eating this pussy for weeks, five star. wanna make you feel good.”

“yes,” you panted, nodding.

luke’s smirk returned to his face as he pulled down your underwear. a string of your arousal connected the cloth to your pussy and luke wanted to dive in and stay in there for hours. his pupils widened when he saw how wet you were for him. without another word, he placed his tongue flat against your cunt, licking and rubbing against your clit. you thrashed around on the bed, overwhelmed by the mastery of his tongue.

luke’s chin was already covered by you, but he wasn’t going to stop there. he ran his middle finger and ring finger down your slit, coating them with your arousal before putting them inside. he rutted his cock against the softness of your plush blanket, trying to get some sort of friction. he could cum like this, watching you be overtaken by waves of pleasure because of him.

his fingers moved expertly inside you, scissoring inside, stretching you out deliciously. you were tight around his fingers and his mind could only imagine how you would feel around him. the images he was conjuring up weren’t helping his situation. his cock was dripping, red, and angry, trying to find its own release. he used his other hand to push his boxers down, rubbing the tip of his cock with his thumb.

he looked up at you, moaning into your cunt as he watched your face contort in pleasure. there was a thin layer of sweat on your skin, making you glisten under the light of your room. luke removed his hand from his boxers and pressed his arm against your tummy, keeping you still. your fingers tugged on his hair, “luke, i’m close.”

he pulled away for a second, “yeah?”

“yeah,” you whined, craning your neck to look at him. he was covered in you, eyes lidded like this was the hottest thing he’d ever done in his life. and it was. nothing could ever compare to this, luke thinks.

he returned his attention to your clit, licking the bud until you were convulsing against him. you came with a loud whimper, repeating the only word your brain remembered. luke. luke. luke. he was convinced this is what he’ll hear when he ascends to heaven, the sound of your voice moaning out his name after he made you cum.

you had to pull him off of you. he wasn’t stopping after giving you a mind-blowing orgasm. it was like he forgot about his own release for a moment, only focused on making you feel good. you pulled him by the chain of his necklace to connect your lips once more. you groaned when you tasted yourself on his tongue.

your hands pulled down his boxers before wrapping your hand around the base of his cock. luke threw his head back in pleasure at the feeling of your soft, small hand pumping his cock, thumb collecting the precum on his tip. you whispered, “can i return the favor?”

“as much as i would love that, five star. i need to be inside you,” luke replied, twitching as you ran your finger along the bulging vein on his cock.

“next time, then?”

luke didn’t know it was possible for him to get harder than he was right now, but the implication that this will happen again, that the next time your pretty, pink lips would be around his cock, made his muscles tense. he breathed out, “yeah, next time.”

you smiled at him, all sultry and desperate, before leaning over to your bedside table to pull out a condom. luke reached out to grab it from you but you shook your head. you ripped the foil with your teeth and rolled the rubber on his cock, slowly, jerking him off in the process. he was going crazy.

you moved around on your bed so your head was resting on the pillows. luke followed you, hovering over your naked body. he’ll take his time with you next time, keep you like this for hours, but for now, he needed to be inside you. when the tip of his cock entered you, luke had to pause. the tightness of your cunt made his head spin.

“more,” you murmured against his skin, arms clinging around him as if you needed to be grounded. “please, i need more.”

he pushed deeper into you until he was all the way inside. he groaned loudly when he felt your walls constrict around him. luke felt pure bliss being inside you like this. he thrusted in and out, moans and the sound of skin slapping echoing throughout the empty room. he looked down at where the two of you connected, cursing at how he could see the bulge of his cock inside you. the sounds you were making were pornographic.

“s’big, luke,” you sighed, eyes rolling to the back of your head. your hair was sprawled across your pillows, small braids in your hair already coming undone. the makeup you wore smudged around your eyes as tears fell. “you feel s’good.”

your words were slurred like your brain was shutting down from the pleasure you felt. luke knew he sounded similar, “fuck, five star. your pussy is perfect. made for me, yeah?”

“yours,” you choked out, digging your nails down his back. you could feel his muscles stiffen. luke loved how it felt on his skin. he knew there would be marks left on his back that would have him fucking his fist thinking of this moment every time he sees them. he wants this moment etched in his brain forever.

“mine,” luke said, arms giving out. he pressed his chest against your body, continuing to thrust into you with fervor. his lips found your neck again, adding more marks to his earlier additions.

you were feeling so many things at once. it was almost too much, too good. you were quickly being pushed to your ends again. you sucked on his earlobe, the cold metal of his piercing soothing your tongue. you pressed your lips against his ear, voice broken as you spoke, “i’m coming.”

luke didn’t want this to end, but he was close, too. it was hard not to be when you were taking him so well, whispering dirty words in his ear, and looking the way you did as he unraveled you. you shuddered when your second orgasm of the night hit, a string of curses as you made a mess on his cock. luke lifted himself up from you, sweat dripping down his forehead, “i’m close.”

“want you to finish in my mouth, please, luke,” you begged, wide-eyed.

“shit,” he pulled out of you, taking off the condom on his cock as he jerked himself off. he didn’t let himself blink, not wanting to miss a moment of his. he guided the tip of his dick to your parted lips, hips stuttering as white ropes of cum covered your eager tongue. luke took his thumb, cleaning up the corners of your mouth. he let out a smile as you swallowed his load, opening your mouth for him to show him that you wasted no drop.

luke collapsed on the bed beside you, spent and empty. he wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you to his chest. he kissed the top of your head, soaking in the feeling of your body warmth against his own. you hummed in content, placing your head on his chest.

“so,” he trailed off, looking down at you with a teasing smile, “there’s a next time?”

you rolled your eyes, pushing yourself away from him, “not if you’re gonna be annoying about it.”

luke let out a laugh, pulling you back to him. he grabbed the blanket on your bed and draped it over the both of you when he noticed you shivering. he placed a tender kiss on your lips, placing his forehead against yours, “i’ll try not to be, five star.”

#frances writes #poisoned mercury #luke castellan #luke castellan imagine #luke castellan pjo #luke pjo #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan fanfic #luke castellan x yn #luke castellan x y/n #luke castellan x you #luke castellan smut #percy jackson #percy jackson fanfic

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my313 · 2 months

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𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ perv!huening kai

mdni 18+ only!

⋆ pairing: bobarista!kai & bobarista f!reader

⋆ summary: your shy and unbearably handsome new co-worker seemed normal. that is, until you catch him peeking through the back door to watch you change.

⋆ genre/themes/warnings: pervy!kai, no strong dom/sub themes, semi-public masturbation (m), getting caught (?)

⋆ word count: 1.7k

a/n: ITS TIME HE IS FINALLY HEREEEEEE. might do a pt 2 cuz im not very satisfied w this and i need them to fuck JDKDJF 😭 tysm to @boba-beom for helping me brainstorm <333 enjoy :3

kai never meant to keep this habit up.

the first time was an accident. it was the one time you both were doing the closing shift, and like the nice boy he is, he let you get changed out of your work clothes first.

by the time he finished, you still weren’t out to greet him by the counter. kai decided, he’ll just take a slight peep at the back since he needed to discard his apron and hang it up anyway. it’s like the universe set the pieces perfectly in front of him, because the locker room door seemed to creak softly until an opening formed.

there’s been a number of times where he’s tried to make his broad frame smaller, curling behind the wall while watching you take off your shirt, memorising the colours and patterns of your underwear. kai could probably recite it the same way he does the boba shop’s menu – probably even better. it’s no wonder that you’re the first thing on his mind when his fist closes in on his length, and the last when he’s hiccuping your name while spilling for the third time every other night. the guilt only catches up to him when he feels the slimy ooze of his cum sliding down his stomach, wincing at the feeling.

he says this each time, something along the lines of, “i just passed by!” or “the door was open anyway…” to his own conscience. he knows you’re not hearing anything he says to justify why he starts to stay outside the locker room five minutes longer, ten minutes more — why he urges you to change clothes first, and why he keeps signing up for shifts that line up with yours.

at first, you thought kai’s constant efforts of being around you while blushing and barely being able to look at you was a small crush. something that dissipates once you undergo the weekend rushes, but kai continues his advances.

he makes you your favourite bubble tea and watches intently as your lips latch onto the thick straw then suction out the pearls. he helps you arrange boxes of ingredients when you can’t reach the tallest shelf, always hovering behind you and says he’s just “making himself useful.”

what you don’t know is that he’s grown an odd liking to watching your lips plump up against the roundness of the straw, fueling his feverish dreams of having you on your knees and doing the same to his cock. you don’t know that when he offers to ‘make himself useful’, he’s often thinking with his dick. he’s dazed by the delicious view of your skirt riding up, inwardly cheering when he catches a glimpse of where your thigh high socks squeeze the fat of your thigh.

on other days, he goes mad from seeing your shitty tights rip from the smallest movements. he pictures ruining them entirely, your face pressed against the very same lockers where he watches you undress.

the first time the bells started to ring in your head that kai may not be as innocent as you think, you’re just a bit shocked.

you recall the door being slightly ajar, and in hopes that your co-worker was still at front, you slung your bag over and went out, only to be greeted by kai’s blushing face and obvious boner. your eyes met for a brief moment, and while you expected some sort of explanation, kai only flashed an awkward smile like always and walked past you.

“s-see you tomorrow, yn.” he said, as if the huge elephant in the room wasn’t ghosting over your skin as he made his way into the locker room. if you hadn’t looked down, you would have thought you just caught kai in his natural state – flushed pink and too shy for his own good. but that definitely changed your mind.

so, you decided to run a few experiments to test your hypothesis.

the next few weeks consist of essentially testing your potentially perverted co-worker. it should be a harder pill to swallow, finding out kai had been watching your half-naked body for a good ten minutes per day. yet, you find yourself taking pride in the way you make kai act. you don’t bother to check if the door closes fully behind you each time you go change.

kai’s on his first toilet break of the day. he blames you and your choice of outfit. lately, you’ve been coming in in mini skirts and thigh highs, and today, you’re in one of his favourite pleated skirts and another one of your flimsy tights.

he swears you’re doing it on purpose, because on restock day, you’re typically grumpy and wearing sweatpants and a hoodie. but just the other day, you were fishing out the packets of pearls from the delivery, bent over with your cute, strawberry-printed panties immediately drawing out a “g-gonna take a break real quick!” from kai.

as if masturbating to you in the privacy of his bedroom wasn’t enough, he’s developed a sick routine of jerking off in the unkempt staff toilet. kai spends more of his lunch hours with his hands enveloping his cock at the thought of you than actually taking a break.

when it’s time for you to leave, your normal routine ensues. you go into the locker room with kai not-so-discreetly following behind, acting as if he’s double checking if the stock in the back is the right amount.

today though, kai doesn’t know what overcomes him. maybe it was the fact that you wore a matching set; pretty pink lace adorning your skin, holding you in places he wishes he could get his filthy hands on. maybe it’s the fact that you’re half-naked for a good five minutes, distracted on your phone to even proceed switching to a comfy sweatshirt.

within those five minutes, kai’s palming himself over the thick material of his jeans.

in the next two, he’s fumbling over the zipper and hastily unhooking the button. his cock is very obviously staining his briefs, leaking profusely and begging to be freed.

kai is quick to fall prey to his urges; what really does it for him is the way you bend over to pick up something that fell to the floor. he doesn’t notice nor care what it is. it’s tunnel vision from here on out, eyes trained on the plushness of your ass, deliciously cradled by your panties and pushed out for his viewing.

his mind is overtaken by obscenities. everything from smothering his face in your cunt to your knees faltering from how he’s made you cum.

he pictures his leaking tip soiling the crotch of your panties, imagining how he’d rut in and out between your thighs, like some makeshift fleshlight, before pulling your underwear off. his eyebrows scrunch at the thought of your skin covered in streaks of white. he thinks that you’d look up at him with wide eyes that ask for “one more?” even when he’s given you his load over and over, grunts morphing to sensitive whimpers.

kai’s body is on overdrive; eyes threatening to shut as his mind drifts into familiar territory but not wanting to miss the sight in front of him. his teeth are digging into his bottom lip to the point of tasting blood, while his arms are starting to give out from the speed he’s stroking himself at.

when you finally snap out of your phone break, kai takes it as a sign to speed up more than he already is. his hips chase after his tight fist, desperate to finish before you find out about his little secret. his stomach caves from the spike of euphoria until it peaks and he can’t stop himself from shooting out ribbons of his cum, his bottom lip surely taking a cut from how hard his canines have sunk into the skin.

he finally releases his bottom lip and takes a quick breather, cautious about whether you’ve put your clothes on. kai scrambles to rip a tissue roll to wipe the floor when he sees you absentmindedly smiling at your phone and walking towards the door.

he leaps into the staff toilet in a rush, just before you step out of the locker room.

you’re still on your phone when you move to the front of the shop, waiting on kai before taking your leave. glancing up at the toilet door from where you’re seated, you stifle a laugh as you think back on the delectable view you caught a peek at earlier. you shake your head at your co-worker’s antics, finding it a mix of silly, pathetically weird and also… sexy? hot?

kai makes an entrance with his apron snug against his body. you try to hold back a full-blown laugh and settle for a polite smile instead, waving your hand at him. “i’m gonna head out now– oh, wait,” your eyebrows knit together upon seeing the fresh tear on his lip.

you rush to his side, pressing your chest against him as your hands reach out to his face. your thumb rests on his bottom lip but you can feel his cheeks heat up against your other fingers. you know what you’re doing, and kai knows that you do. he’s thanking his self from five minutes ago for putting on this apron, because if not, you’d be stuck feeling his awakening hard on again.

“did you get hurt today? i didn’t see this earlier.” you frown, pressing your thumb against his bottom lip. he winces slightly, trying to pull away. a breath is stuck in his throat, the closeness rendering him to just a couple of meek nods or shakes of his head.

kai finally manages to get you back in your space. he shakes his head, “o-oh.. yeah! just– just cut my lip while eating earlier..?”

“be careful next time, yeah?” you chuckle, playfully bumping into him with your hip. “that face is our best seller!”

he laughs nervously, “that’s all you..!”

you’re leaning towards him again, coy with your hands folded behind your back. just enough to have him hitching his breath and anticipating more, but not so much to touch him.

you smile mischievously, hinting at what you just saw earlier. “both of us then? we put on a good show, hm?”

he gulps, “uh– no, you’re definitely much better.”

“i dunno,” you tease, finger tapping your lip almost mockingly as if pondering. “you’re a quick thinker.”

oh shit. you knew.

#from.313 #313.hardhours #313.hyuka #huening kai x reader #huening kai drabble #huening kai x you #txt scenarios #txt x reader #txt imagines #huening kai hard thoughts #huening kai hard hours #txt hard hours #txt hard thoughts #huening kai smut #txt smut

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messylustt · 11 months

Note

a fic wherein miguel is webbin his way across the city when he stumbles across the reader flickin the bean????? and is paralyzed by the sight and smell??? and self-indulges???? if you’re picking up what im putting down??

anyways I love your fics, they literally bring me to tears every time, no exaggeration. <3

sweet self indulgence — miguel o’hara. mhmmmm. butterflies fr.

at first he thought the city noise and smell was betraying him. but no. he picked up the faintest whimpers and mutters, along with a scent he seemed to be able to taste. sweet. so sweet. he can’t help but veer closer to the high window, the dark sky concealing his large frame. maybe he should have noticed the small hitches of your breath, and realise how the tempo was just like how you always sounded when you were injured, or tired.

his low gaze caught your figure, laid out on your bed, the sheets ruffled, and your hand low, low down your body. now miguel knew he should leave, forget that he was ever here in the first place, but then he easily catches another moan fall from your pretty lips, your back slightly arching off the bed. his red eyes were glued to the way your thighs clenched around your hand, he couldn’t see you entirely, and it was terrible how bad he wanted to.

you were in a lose shirt, edged up to just under your breasts. and that’s when your legs began to widen, your eyes screwed shut as your breathing chose it’s own mismatched beat. miguel’s eyelids flutter as his gaze darkens at the view you’re now unintentionally showing him. he can see your hand, your fingers that are rubbing your swollen clit in circles. he gulps down saliva at the state your poor abused pussy is in. a mess.

an utter mess of your arousal and clearly some of your spit. you’re desperately trying to reach a high you’ve been chasing, as more mumbles of soft words leave your lips. miguel listens harder catching the words “please…oh god…please, i need….mm.” miguel’s breathing is now matching yours at your cute pleas. he’s now aching in his suit, imagining how sweet you’d actually taste. you smelt good, sounded good. what were you thinking about? miguel can’t help but lean closer to the cracked open window, mesmerised by your hands movements as he tilts his head. he just wanted to…

your legs are slightly shaking as you keep them bent. he could help with that, let them rest them over his shoulders. and the way your free fist was clenching around your sheets…his hair could substitute. you looked almost in pain with how your brows knitted together. you so badly wanted to cum and miguel knew that your fingers wouldn’t be enough. because as you slipped two in, he knew you weren’t reaching the spot you wanted to.

the sound of your clenching hole was making him almost dizzy, his tongue running along his fang, to cut—to make sure he wasn’t dreaming. “mm…” you sounded do pitiful, as you tried to finger yourself quicker. you just weren’t quick enough. miguel’s claws flexed in an itch to help. just help you out. you couldn’t be mad at that, could you? i mean look at you. such a desperate little thing that only wanted to feel good. “such a pretty little thing…” he mutters only for his own ears, as his claw drags across the windowsill.

“no…god…i just — ” you plead, wanting to reach that pleasure that your fingers were just barely providing. your legs are moving along the sheets as you turn your head to the side. your body was racked with heightening pleasure. you wanted to reach that peak. and with your eyes shut tight, and your turned away head, you don’t notice the helping hand hovering up your thigh, until you feel the slightest touch of a claw.

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crescentbelle · 1 year

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Liability

Miguel O’Hara x Fem Reader

Angst

Word Count: 1.2K

Summary: After a failed solo mission, Miguel’s punishment makes you feel as if you’ve become a liability.

finished this at 4am with my botchy Spanish skills so please forgive me.

It had been two weeks since your last fight, and equally two weeks since you had stepped foot out the careful watch of your boss, Miguel O’Hara. You weren’t given the luxury to mistake his hovering. His mindset was clear, you weren’t to be trusted.

One slip of a web was all it took, the anomaly you spent the last month tracking down slipped away, snatching your travel watch on the way out. You let the time pass crying out of frustration and being pushed down by a glitch each time you rose from the cracked pavement.

Maybe it was the amount of time it took for you to muster up the courage to tell Miguel you lost him again, or the fact that he then spent the next two days cleaning up the mess the escapee made. Either way, you had committed your biggest mistake since joining the famous group of vigilantes. Not that you could say their band together was infamous to any universe, but that’s what they were to you, and you had utterly failed.

One of Miguel’s star players had let him down, made a mistake so embarrassing to his reputation, that he couldn’t trust you outside his view. Banished to the filing of any and all reports that came through; that was the dignified job you took on. The only thing keeping you sane was to believe it was all just a humiliation tactic from his end, the more you fought against it, the more he succeeded. At this point you didn’t know what to think. The man barely spoke to you, even on his rarely chipper days.

Sat crossed-legged in a chair; you continued the boredom-striking task. Click drag. Click drag. You missed the moments when Hobie came to visit, the small times where you got genuine interaction and not awkward stares.

“you’re free to go now.”

Silence strung together with tension rose thick in the air. Will that ever fade?

He didn’t turn to look at you, his broad frame still turned to his own screen, eyes cold and cruel as ever. God, he really did find you pathetic after this one.

A beat passed. You always wondered if you should thank him, but that just seemed stupid. Thank you so much Mr. Miguel O’Hara for another silent day stuck at your brooding side. You chose the silent approach, slowly uncurling from your awkward position.

Making your way to the door, you heard him call on Lyla, muttering about a mission he needed to put another man on, one that wasn’t you.

“Just take her name off as an option, I don’t want her out right now.”

The words broke you down, weirdly in a way that no other snide comment from the man had before. Since you arrived all you strived for was the acknowledgment of your skills, to show you could become useful. Now, it feels like the rug had been pulled from under you. How long until you get sent back home? How long until Miguel admits you have become a liability?

Please just say anything else, anything so I know you don’t hate-

Miguel calls your name, sharp and devoid of any readable emotion.

“you’ve forgotten your day pass. That’s the second time this week.”

You gritted your teeth, “Thank you.”

“Try not to do that again, you’re glitching has gotten worse.”

That was it, The final stroke. Storming forward, you swipe the scanner off the desk, cheeks burning red with emotion. “You don’t have to scold me like I’m a child, Miguel.”

“Trust me, I know I don't.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I’m not doing this right now, you can leave.”

Beat.

“It was one mistake! How does that constitute shunning me away?” Your body was hot, a magma bubbling into adrenaline. With a racing heart, you refused to back down. Everyday sitting in his office like a lap dog for all your friends and accomplices to watch, you couldn’t take it.

The man’s shoulders stiffen, his body toughening to a cold, ridged stance. Slowly, his gaze fell onto you. There they were, those piercing eyes.

That silent tension melted into something thicker and harder to hide from, fear. Fear that radiated off you in waves he could sense like a strike to the face.

“You don’t get to make those choices,” His voice spoke as a mutter, like he was hiding a seething tone from slipping out. “You don’t get to tell me how I choose to keep you safe.”

“You don’t get to talk about me like I’m not right here! I’ve always been on top of things- ever since I got here. Why do I slip up once and you get to treat me like I’m in idiot? Am I that humiliating for you?”

Beat. This one is too long, his eyes shift for just a moment, caught between thoughts. It’s a second of weakness that makes you apprehensive.

“I’m not letting you on any more missions.”

No-

“You’re sending me back.”

He shakes his head, dejected. “No, I’m not- just shit. Please don't make this harder than it has to be. For your sake.”

“Are you kidding me? You're asking me to never fight again!”

“Please-”

You take another step forward. “You’re asking me to throw away what I was built for! This is my meaning, why are you doing this to me?”

With the confidence he had left to muster up, Miguel stalked over to your frame. This was the closest you had been since he picked you up out of the alleyway you pathetically collapsed in, and the desperate feeling followed. To beg and kick like a child until he let you back in. It felt horrific and you wondered if he felt it too.

“I cant help it. Por favor, no te quiero lastimar. Please don't make me risk you again.” His hand moved up, close enough to your cheek that it makes your senses tingle, before its dropped down to his side again. “Please.”

“You’re hurting me.”

Beat.

With what feels like an instant, you’re being pulled into his chest. his broad arms caught you in his embrace, a hand coming to rest against your temple. Its simple, but it makes your heart ache. Never have either of you come this close. This is that desperate feeling bubbling up again.

You wonder if you should have pushed away; told him he's pathetic and walked away from this cryptic language you now share. But you cant anymore, not with his touch like this.

“I’m sorry.” The mumble of his words reverberated through your body like a purr.

A single drop of a hot liquid hits your forehead and manages to roll down onto his thumb. You scan up to his face. That stoic stare he managed to always hold stood strong, staring off into a void like there's something better to worry about. But his eyes watered and the trail of a tear glimmered on his pronounced cheek.

He guided your head back down to lay against him again and moved his gaze to the side, anywhere to avoid the way you look at him now.

“Don't leave, okay?”

#miguel o'hara #miguel ohara #miguel o'hara x reader #spiderman 2099 #spider-man: across the spider-verse #across the spider-verse spoilers #spiderman #angst #fanfic #fanfiction

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euseokz · 4 months

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@ sungchan — you’re my favorite drug, i always get the best highs out of you ;) . cws : unprotected sex . nipple sucking . creampie . some aftercare & cockwarming . wc : 0.7k+ . genre : smut

BOYFRIEND! SUNGCHAN who gets absolutely drunk on you anytime you fuck.

his eyes will get all glossy, heavy with arousal, all while his hips piston into yours mercilessly, the only thoughts clouding his brain always somehow related to his lust — how good you feel wrapped around him, how much he wants to cum inside you, how he can’t hold himself back while drilling into you even if he wanted to. he fucks you so well, hitting every spot he needs to make you cream around his cock while still begging for more, only fueling him further.

sungchan’s frame will be hovering over yours, one of his elbows propped by your side so he can hold himself up while his free hand is placed on your hip, his fingers digging into your skin. his gaze will be completely focused on where you two meet, on how well your cunt swallows him, the way your slick mixes with his pre-cum around his dick, leaving it with a thicker, glistening coat over it with each thrust. you’re absolutely soaked, and if that wasn’t enough to let him know you’re just as aroused as him, the way your pussy clamps down around him would give it away, the way your clit twitches begging for attention giving him no other choice but to press his thumb over the soft bud, drawing slow circles over it, his attention still mainly on his thrusts in and out of your hole though. sungchan’s almost mindless touch still heightnes your pleasure immensely, making your thighs tremble and your walls clench down harder around sungchan’s cock. it’s almost mesmerizing how focused he gets when he fucks you, his head slowly getting overtaken by thoughts of wanting to make you two cum as fast and as hard as possible.

it would be rare that he’d do so, but sometimes sungchan’s eyes would wonder elsewhere, leaving the sight of his cock drilling into you and usually following up to your face, wanting to see your expressions, to see how pretty you look taking him. you always handle it so well, moaning so prettily for him, he can’t help but also wanna see your fucked out face. he’ll praise you for it, rambling about how you’re his pretty girl, how proud he is that you take him so well, how beautiful you look all fucked out for him. it only boosts your own arousal, making you desire more of him, thirsty for everything sungchan will give you. he can’t help but feel his cock twitch deep inside you when he notices your expression, almost as if your determination and desperation for him only makes him also want you more. you’ll get absolutely lost on each other, so drunk off of your own lust for one another that, in that moment, absolutely nothing else matters, no fully coherent thoughts coursing through your brains.

sometimes, when he was getting closer and his thrust were getting sloppier, sungchan would drift his gaze towards your chest too, watching as your breasts bounced up and down in synch with his movements. he loved it, loved to watch every part of your body react to him — how your thighs trembled, how your stomach flexed, how your nails dug into his arm, how your back arched, and even how your boobs bounced. it was irresistible, such a pretty view, so he wouldn’t think twice before wrapping his lips around your perky nipples, sucking on them softly, basically absentmindedly, but still eliciting loud moans to escape from your lips because of it, that stimulation added with how his cock felt stretching you out, pushing in and out of you roughly, and with the how his thumb still pressed over your clit enough to make you reach your high, screaming his name shamelessly as pure bliss hit you like a train, each orgasm always somehow seeming greater than you remembered the last one sungchan gave you being.

noticing your state, and feeling how much tighter your pussy suddenly felt, sungchan too would reach his high, warm cum filling you up, painting your inside white while he still kept moving, starting to slow down to help you both ride out your orgasms. you’d both feel so drained by then, brains hazy and bodies feeling heavy, your minds still somehow only able to formulate thoughts about one another. sungchan would get so clingy by then, wanting to hold you, to feel you close to him. he’d stay in the same position, his lips no longer on your nipples but his head still resting on your chest, both of his arms lacing around your waist and his cock still inside you, softening wrapped around in your warmth, stopping his cum from spilling out.

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wearebarca · 1 month

Text

Captured // Alexia Putellas x Original character

Part 1 part 2 part 3

synopsis: Rosalie has never stayed too long at the same place. When the opportunity of a lifetime presents itself critical moment in her life, the photographer decides to once again leave behind what she knows and joins the staff of Europe's best football team.

word count: 3,5K

18 + (eventually)

A/N: Hello, Spanish is from google translate so please be nice. French is my first language so all should be good on that part. Enjoy.

Her fingers were hovering over the multitudes of cameras lined up in the bookcase of her small living room. The balcony doors were opened and the cool night air filtered in the little apartment, along with the chants and cheers of the sea of supporters passing in the streets below. Nights like these had quickly become her favourite since moving to the heart of Barcelona. She would usually sit on the balcony and watch as the supporters would celebrate their club's win, filling the night air with happiness and excitement but tonight was slightly different though. An important match was currently being disputed at the Johan Cruyff Estadi, one that all the Barcelona Femini fans were looking forward to all year. El Classico was always an electric night and Rosalie had decided to experience this night out in the streets, instead of the comfort of her balcony chair.

Once out in the streets, She was immediately hit by a wave of excitement. She was instantly swept in a sea of chanting people, all wearing jerseys and scarves with their team's logo. The crowd was so dense that all you could see were flashes of red and blue making the task of focusing on one subject a difficult one. She finally managed to exit the crowd and find a bench near a bus stop, high enough to have a clear view of the scene unfolding in front of her. This new vantage point allowed you to take numerous portraits of fans, capturing groups of friends in the middle of drunken laughs and barça chants. She instantly knew when the final whistle was blown and Barcelona had won the match. Excited screams could be heard all around and the ground was slightly shaking from the people jumping around in an ecstatic frenzy. Rosalie lowered her camera and took a moment to soak it all in. These were the moments that reminded her of why she had chosen sports photography as her career. This feeling of unity between fans, the shared excitement and hope as well as the solidarity displayed among the supporters even during darker times. Sports was something that brought people together, made them temporarily forget about their lives. She considered herself lucky to have a job that allowed her to capture such moments.

Once back in the safety of her apartment, she plugged her camera to her computer and while the shots she took were transferring into her laptop. She pulled out the wine bottle that was already opened and sat on her couch. Next to her was a pile of clothes that consisted of her vintage oversized brown leather jacket, a tight black t-shirt and dark brown pleated pants. She had specifically picked out this outfit for her first day in her new job. Her camera bag sat next to the pile, only her laptop missing. Everything was ready, perfectly organized, almost obsessively. The stress of this new beginning was keeping her up which led the young woman to work on the shots she had taken during the night until she fell asleep in her living room.

The drive to the training stadium wasn’t too long. She had left incredibly early to avoid traffic and ended up parking her car at the stadium and walking around the block. It wasn’t long until she stumbled upon a small cafe, not too far from the training center. The place looked cosy and inviting with all the plants and the picture frames. Upon a closer look, she noticed that they were all pictures of what she guest was regulars enjoying their coffees. The thought of so much history hanging on these walls made the French-Canadian smile as she went to stand in line to order.

Her Spanish was rather shaky which made the barista and the woman behind her chuckle lightly. But nonetheless she managed to order and pay without going completely red from embarrassment.

“Americano para Rosalie” The french name sounds so foreign when spoken in the language and Rosalie almost felt bad for the barista and made a note to herself to use her spanish nickname when ordering in the future.

She picked up her coffee and as she was turning around to exit the small shop, her body collided with a solid one, making her spill half of her own coffee on herself.

“oh Déu, ho sento, estàs bé?”

A tattooed had grabbed her elbow in an attempt to stabilize her, but the damage was done. The cup that was previously secured in her hand had spilled more than half of its content on her shirt and bag. the tattooed woman turn to her partner “ Ingrid can you grab napkins please”

She immediately took the napkins that were handed to her and started to dab at her bag in an attempt to prevent the liquid from seeping in and mess with her equipment. Busy trying to dry the coffee that had fallen on her work bag, Rosalie had failed to notice who exactly had bumped into her, but the names mentioned during her short encounter were oddly familiar. “ Are you ok? Did any get in your bag?” A tall dark haired woman was standing right in front of you with a worried smile and Rosalie could not believe her luck. She simply shook her head and smiled at the Norwegian while throwing the napkins away.

“ I’m Ingrid, we’re very sorry about this, Maria’s a little clumsy.” She laughed at her own statement, knowing very well that “ a little” was a bit of an understatement.

“ It’s ok, I can’t say that I was really looking where I was going” Rosalie said as she followed Ingrid outside the cafe to a small table near the entrance. The Spanish woman exited the shop shortly after them with a tray with four cups of coffee.

“ Asked the barista for your order, here you go.” The Spanish woman said with an apologetic smile on her lips.

“ Thank you, you didn’t have to do that”

“ It was only fair since this one can’t be bothered to be aware of the world around her” she said, giving a playful glare to her partner.

“ I’m Mapi, .” .

“Oh I know who you are,” she said with a smile on her face. She wasn’t new to the football world, having played all the way to her college years. After graduation, she had gotten herself a job as an assistant photographer in the NWSL in America. She had travelled all around the United-States and became one of the best known sports photographers. Three years into the job, Rosalie received a call that would change her career forever.

Arsenal W.F.C was desperately looking to revamp its image and put the club on the map. Management had come across some of Rosalie’s dynamic shots and had contacted her to offer her a spot in the new media team that would follow the girls around during the season. Seeing this as the opportunity of a lifetime, she moved across the ocean. This was the opportunity of a lifetime and she absolutely loved it. She had built her strongest friendships over there, had fallen even more in love with job and football, but also experienced her most gut wrenching heartbreak. After her breakup, she had stayed with the team to finish her contract and then packed her flat without knowing what she would do next. She knew that going back toArsenal would not be a good idea since she would have to see the face of the woman that had broken her trust everyday, so she gave her notice and left a month to go hiking in Andalucia. It would be during this trip that she would get the call from FC Barcelona Femini. She would accept on the spot and after a quick apartment search she would have all her belongings shipped to her new address and fly straight to Barcelona, without anyone knowing about her new beginning.

“ Sorry that came out a little strong, I’m Rosalie Marineau, Barça’s new photographer.” She shook both their hands and started the few blocks walk towards the training facility.

“ Oh it is a pleasure to meet you, we were wondering when the new photographer would start. We were all excited after seeing some of your work with Arsenal, very impressive.”

“Thank you so much but I should be the one who’s excited, it truly is an honour to work with such a strong and dedicated team Like Barça, I really can’t wait to start.” the woman said with a beaming smile. The walk back to the stadium was filled with conversation about the upcoming season, Rosalie's career and even strayed to her college football career. As the group reached the entrance of the training grounds, a voice made itself heard in the hallway.

“ustedes chicas llegan tarde” A tall blond was leaning against the wall right next to the locker room door. She was wearing the gray half zip training shirt with matching shorts and her hair loose, fanning over her shoulders. Her arms were crossed, her boots in one hand and a stern expression was plastered on her face. In her mind, there was no way that this woman was not the captain of this team and indeed, a few moments later, Rosalie was standing face to face with Alexia Putellas.

“ Quince minutos antes no significa tarde, Ale” The sigh that left the Catalonian’s lips was long and the look that came with the sound would make anyone shrink right on the spot. She propped herself up and with even sparing a glance in the direction of the photographer, she turned around and entered the locker room.

“Maria, you might want to follow her, you don’t want her getting worse.” Ingrid said, pushing her girlfriend towards the same door the blond had previously disappeared in. The Spanish woman let out a sigh of her own before also disappearing into the room. “ Come with me, I’ll show you to the management's office.”

As Rosalie had predicted, her morning was all about paperwork officializing her new position as the head of the photography department. Ingrid ended up staying the whole time and even offered to show her to her new office. The office was located on the second floor of the building, which seemed a lot calmer than the lower level. Upon entering the office, Rosalie was surprised by how spacious the place was. The space was divided into two sections. The first had all the proper equipment at her disposal to hold photoshoots. Everything was brand new and of the highest quality, with some of the equipment still wrapped in their boxes. The second was closest to the windows, which gave a perfect view of the pitch, and was half hidden behind screens to give the feeling of being in a completely different room. A desk with two large screens and a laptop launchpad, a comfortable looking chair and a small sofa occupied the space.

A big smile was playing on Rosalie’s lips as she took in the space she would now work in. “ I hope you will feel right at home here.” Jonatan Giràldez said as he came to stand beside the photographer. “ You can set up if you’d like, I’ll send someone to collect you so you can meet the team before lunch.” He said, once again extending his hand for her to shake. “ Welcome to the family, Senorita Marineau.”

After a quick hug from Ingrid and a promise to talk more later, Rosalie pulled out her laptop and took a seat at her new desk. Looking out at the pitch she found the two women she was hoping to see. During her contract with Arsenal, she was asked to follow some of the players to the Lionesses camp to capture their journey. That’s where she had met her closest friends. When she met Keira Walsh, it was like something in the universe clicked. The rest of the England squad used to joke that the two of them were the same person but in different fonts, and they might as well have been right. The two women had the same awkward sense of humour and were able to guest what the other needed or wanted with having to express anything.

Upon meeting the younger French-Canadian woman, Lucy Bronze had immediately felt a strong feeling of protectiveness. This feeling grew even more when one night the Canadian woman had shared with their small friend group that she wasn’t close to her family. Maybe it was because she knew that the girl had nobody to count on, in England or even in her home country, but the woman started to treat the younger brunette like she was part of her family. She was like a big sister to Rosalie and loved the girl fiercely. The couple had become Rosalie’s family during her years in London, but the distance made it hard for them to see each other outside of camps. Still the girls kept in touch regularly and had facetime movie nights on a weekly basis. They were in fact the first ones Rosalie had told about her move, and she would be lying if one of the big reasons why she accepted so fast was because she knew her two best friends were playing for this team.

Setting up her stuff wasn’t long. She had brought a few picture frames, mainly pictures of her, Lucy and Keira, of her, Beth, Viv, Leah and Lia, her closest Arsenal friends, that she put on her desk and plugged her camera and laptop to the screens. She still had about an hour and a half before lunch so she decided to finish editing the pictures from the night before.

She knew someone was making their way towards her office just by the sound of football boots on the hard floors. Still, too engrossed in her work, Rosalie did not lift her head until a very familiar voice spoke.

“You know, if you missed us this much, you could’ve called instead of stalking us all the way here.” She could recognize that strong northern accent anywhere. Leaning against her door frame, in the same training kit that Alexia was wearing, Lucy was smiling brightly at her friend. The smile on Rosalie’s face lit up the whole room and warmed up the English woman’s heart. It had been a while since she had seen her friend with a genuine smile on her face. She almost tumbled over trying to catch the smaller woman who had jumped in her arms.

“Shouldn’t you be training?” A quick look behind her showed the pitch empty.

“Everyone is in the gym, we figured we’d come get you to meet everyone now.” She said dragging the girl out of her office.

“Wait a minute,” she made a beeline to her office to grab the usb key containing the picture she wanted to give the media team and followed the woman out in the corridor.

“How are you settling here? You know, we feel bad about not helping you move.” Rosalie understood perfectly well why Keira and Lucy weren’t able to come give her a hand. With the away games, training and media duty, the women were swarmed and didn’t get a minute to themselves. Still, the lack of extra pairs of arms and someone to push her meant that a lot of boxes remained untouched.

“Don’t worry, I’m good.” She said with a small smile. By the look the older woman was giving her, Rosalie knew that her little lie didn’t go through. But Lucy chose to drop the subject knowing that pestering her friend was not the way to go in this situation.

“I'll show you around the training center but first, everyone is in the gym so we can start there.” She said walking ahead of the brunette. “ The trainers wanted you to know that you have access to it whenever you want and if you'd like they can help you with your training.”

“ What do you mean?” The French-Canadian was confused as she caught up with the taller woman.

“ Well… when the news of your arrival came out, people started to ask questions. They found out who you were through management and they apparently told the girls to talk to us because we knew you.” Lucy said in an apologetic tone. She knew that even though her friend was well known in her field, she liked to keep her life private. “ We didn’t say much, don't worry, but we have some grade A stalkers in this team.”

“ Oh mon dieu ,what did they find?” The brunette said, hiding her face behind her hands. She didn’t have anything crazy on her social media, but she did have a couple pictures from her college football career that looked a little weird along with some pictures of her races, triathlons and marathons that were surely not her best angles.

“ Everything darling,” Lucy said laughing, “ They especially loved the beach pictures and the triathlon ones, you made quite the impression, Frenchy.”

The girl could not be more mortified. Those pictures were not bad. In fact, she was quite proud of them, but it was the fact that the whole team had seen her in her bikini or dying during a race before actually meeting her. She simply wasn’t a fan of the fact that they knew so much already. But then, it was only fair, she thought, since their whole lives were plastered in tabloïds and discussed in social media all the time. The difference was that the photographer had never been in their position.

Lucy chose this exact moment to open the door leading to the gym and Rosalie’s ears were instantly flooded with rapid spanish banter and that freshly cut grass smell that she loved. The room was extremely bright due to the fact that it had direct access to the pitch, which meant that a slight breeze from the outside kept the gym cool and fresh. Almost every station was occupied by players, sometimes alone, but mostly in pairs. The first one to notice their arrival was none other than Mapi, who was helping a certain captain keeping her balance on a platform. She waved excitedly which caused the blond to lose balance and almost fall to her face. The look she sent the Zaragozian would have scared anyone in their right mind. When she realized that her look didn’t get the reaction it deserved she turned her gaze to the source of her training partner’s distraction, only to lock eyes with the photographer.

The contact didn’t not last long since the commotion had caught everyone’s attention. They quickly formed a half circle around the girl, seemingly waiting for her to say a few words.

“ hola,” Rosalie wasn’t a shy person but she was definitely intimidated by the women in front of her. A smile from the couple that she had met in the morning was the little push she needed to continue. “ My name is Rosalie Marineau and I am Barça’s new head photographer. I am very excited to work with all of you. " she said smiling "Don’t worry, I’ll always get your best angle.”

Smiles filled the room and everyone stepped forward to introduce themselves. The first to reach the woman was Mariona who shook her hand and welcomed her. Next were Patri and Pina who both looked like over excited children. They both gave the girl hugs and started to ask different questions only to be pulled away by Irene and Aitana. The taller woman had a warm smile and a very calm demeanor that instantly made Rosalie feel at ease with her. The smaller woman pulled her in a hug and asked her about her move and how she was settling in this new city.

A voice she knew all too well interrupted the conversation and arms wrapped around the photographer from behind. As soon as she smelled the familiar perfume, the Canadian spun around and wrapped her arms around her best friend. “ Hello Frenchy''

Keira didn’t let go of the woman and gave an apologetic smile to the two Spanish players who smiled and left, understanding that this was a private reunion. “ I had to fight Lucy to go get you but the old hag still has some spunk in her.”

The comment made Rosalie laugh and pull away without letting go completely of her friend. At this moment, Lucy arrived next to the blond and gave her a small shove. “ I heard that.”

A few other players came to introduce themselves but Keira and Lucy stayed by the brunette’s side. When the last of the girls left, the photographer turned to her friends only to see them looking over her shoulders.

“ Hola, I don’t think we have been introduced”

The photographer turned around swiftly only to freeze on the spot at the woman before her. Words seemed to escape her as her lips parted but no words came out. Alexia Putellas was a woman with a commanding presence and piercing eyes. She towered over the photographer by a few inches and even with a polite smile on her face, she held herself with a confidence that would make anyone shrink beside her. A sharp elbow in her ribs shook up the girl and prompted her to finally speak.

“ Oui, Bonjour mademoiselle,”

#alexia putellas #woso imagine #woso fanfics #barcelona femeni #alexia putellas x y/n #lucy bronze #keira walsh #woso community #barca femeni #futfem

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jobean12-blog · 2 days

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Hello friend! I'm here on a Pedro Scout Asknado mission. 🫡😘

What's your dream date with your dream Pedro character?

Getaway

Pairing: Joel Miller (no!outbreak Joel)

Word Count: 564

Summary: You and Joel enjoy every minute of your vacation.

Author's Note: Thank you so much my sweet friend! What a fun ask! I took this as more of a getaway than a date because one date just wouldn't be enough and the beach really is my favorite (a dream!) and I think I read somewhere Pedro loves it too- so we'll just pretend Joel does as well haha! It was hard to leave Javi behind but Joel is my #1. Thank you again and I hope it's cool I wrote a little blurb for it! Just had me thinking how nice it would be to have this time with him! Have a lovely weekend! Hugs and love! ❤️❤️❤️Thank you all so much for reading! Much love always! ❤️❤️❤️Divider by the lovely @firefly-graphics thank you Daisy! 🥰

Warnings: Soft, sweet and fun fluff, little spicy bits too! :)

“Are you almost rea…?”

You walk out of the bedroom just as his words trail off and dissolve into a low rumble.

“Darlin’.”

“What?” you ask. “I’m ready! Let’s go! The beach awaits!”

He groans and grinds his teeth. “Let’s skip the beach.”

With two long strides he meets you in the hallway and wraps you in his arms. He steps back until he has you pinned along the wall, his lips hovering above yours and his body pressed close.

“No way!” you say. “You’ve been waiting for the beach all year.”

“Are you gonna be wearing these the whole vacation?” he whispers against your lips as his finger slips under the flimsy strap of your sundress.

“I have a few with me…”

His eyes close with a pained expression and his hand slides down your arm to grab your waist. The press of his hips to yours shows you exactly what he’s thinking and you nibble his bottom lip before soothing it with a kiss.

You take his hand and slip from his grasp. “Come on!”

He follows you with a pout, his curls falling in front of his face and framing his soft brown eyes.

“Joel?” you ask when you feel him staring.

“Hm?” he says, clearly distracted and staring at your ass.

You tsk lightly and continue setting down the blanket.

“I could use some help you know.”

“I’m enjoying the view,” he murmurs.

“The ocean is beautiful,” you counter.

He chuckles and leans forward, grabbing you around the waist and pulling you down into his lap.

“What’s beautiful is your ass in that bathing suit darlin’.”

“I thought it was the sundresses that drive you crazy,” you tease.

He gathers you closer and slides his hand over your ass, his gaze growing more heated.

“It’s you. You drive me crazy darlin’.”

“You’re not holding back are you, Mr. Miller?” you whisper, staring greedily at his mouth.

“If you don’t stop looking at me like that Mrs. Miller, I’m going to have to drag you back to the beach house.”

“Is that supposed to be a threat?”

You flatten your palms on his chest and stand.

“Where do you think you’re goin’?” he calls.

“For a swim!”

You wade out into the warm water and turn, watching your husband approach. He dives under the water before you can get your fill but when he breaks the surface again and droplets glisten along his tan skin, your breath catches.

He reaches you and takes you in his arms.

“You’re stunning,” he whispers letting his eyes follow the trail of a drop of water as it travels down your neck and into your cleavage.

“I was just thinking the same thing about you.”

You kiss his neck, his skin warm and salty and then run your hands through his wet and slicked back hair.

“I’m not sure I can take much more of this,” he murmurs, catching your lips as they pass his. “I think it’s time for a beach break.”

“Like I’ll ever say no to you.”

Tenderness sweeps through his intense expression and your fingers continue to smooth over his damp skin, the droplets of water on his shoulders tickling your fingertips.

“I’m one lucky son of bitch, aren’t I, darlin’?”

“We both are,” you answer and curl your fingers into his dark hair to pull him in for a kiss.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller #joel miller x you #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x y/n #pedro pascal #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller imagine #pedro pascal x reader

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callme-holly · 8 days

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Hi! Wow, do I like your writing. It's really creative and honestly makes me so happy. I was wondering if I could request like what a sleepy morning with Dallas would look like? I just feel like he'd be super clingy when he's half awake, you know?

Anyways! Love your writing and keep doing you🤩

𝐒𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐩𝐲 𝐌𝐨𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 [𝐝𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐧 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫]

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 - so sorry that this took me so long to get back to - I've been swamped with revision lately and stress levels have been high. I will try my best to get round to all the requests in my inbox but updates might be a little slow. As always my asks are still open for requests!! 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 - 1.2k words 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 - none

The room is surprisingly cool despite the fact that it is mid-summer; the temperature is already hovering on the borderline of unbearable as the sun slowly creeps up into view over the horizon.

At some point in the night, the thin sheet that Dallas keeps draped over your bodies has been lost, sitting in a crumpled heap on the hardwood floor below, forgotten and discarded, leaving you both exposed to the harsh rays of light seeping in through the window.

Dallas is lying on his side, curled towards you, one arm slung loosely around your waist in a protective gesture, his body radiating warmth against yours. His hair falls in light wisps, framing his face, and for once he looks peaceful, that wall he always puts between himself and everyone else falling away in sleep. It's a rare sight, indeed, to see his face wiped completely of that cocky smirk or that guarded expression that usually marres his features, but a welcome one nonetheless.

Shifting slightly, you push yourself up onto your elbows, stretching out your limbs and groaning quietly in protest. A grunt sounds from beside you, Dallas muttering something unintelligible as he shifts closer to where you are, wrapping both arms around your torso in an attempt to pull you back down next to him, though without success.

He seems oblivious to the time, seemingly not caring whether or not you’re late to your job, and you can’t help but run your fingers through his hair, your nails scratching gently at his scalp, in an attempt to rouse him but only earning another discontented noise response.

“Dal,” you mumble, pressing a quick kiss to the top of his head. “I gotta get up.” But it seems that your attempts fall on deaf ears, and Dallas only pulls you closer to him, burying his face further into the crook of your neck, still refusing to budge. His lips press firmly against the bare skin of your collarbone, pecking repeatedly at the skin.

“You ain’t goin’ nowhere today, doll,” he mumbles, his voice deep and muffled. “It’s too early.” He continues peppering kisses around your neck, his hand sliding lower, fingers teasing the hem of your shorts, and fingertips lightly dancing across your stomach.

You realise there's no point in arguing with him. He's far too stubborn for his own good, and once he’s got his mind set on something, you best believe he’s doing it. And right now, he’s decided that what he wants is you all to himself, and you aren’t going anywhere until he lets you go.

Your resolve wavers slightly when you feel his teeth graze against the skin of your throat, and a small involuntary shiver runs down your spine as a result.

“Dallas,” you try again, pushing at the arm wrapped around your waist in a weak attempt to pry him away, resulting only in him tightening his grip on you further.

“It’s only eight thirty,” he says, still not moving an inch from his position, his breath hot against your skin. “Your shift doesn’t start ‘til nine.”

You let out an exasperated sigh, kissing your teeth and trying yet again to pry his arms loose, determined to still be out the door on time. “I still have to get ready. If I’m late, I’ll be fired; you know that.”

He grunts again, looking entirely unamused as he raises his head slightly to glare at you. His eyes are still heavy, glazed over with sleep, and you can’t help but chuckle fondly at the sight.

“Just call in sick,” He mumbles, his tone almost petulant. “What they don’t know won’t hurt them." And with that, he turns over, pulling you along with him despite your feeble protests, effectively pinning you underneath him.

For a few moments, neither of you move, just lying silently together, staring out the window at the rising sun before it finally breaches over the horizon, bathing both of you in golden light. Dallas’ hair appears almost white in its hue, like a halo encircling his head. It’s funny, really, you think; he looks so angelic in that moment, but every soul who has ever laid eyes on him knows better. Dallas Winston is certainly no angel—far from it, in fact. He’s cold, tough, and mean—a guy who takes pride in his scars and imperfections.

You can’t help but wonder how you ended up with someone like him—someone so roughed up and hardened by the world. But then he smiles, flashing you that stupid, crooked grin that drives you crazy, making the butterflies flutter wildly in the bottom of your stomach.

“Enjoyin’ the view, doll?” He asks, his words a lazy drawl that sends a chill down your spine despite your warm cocoon beneath his strong chest.

Your cheeks flush pink, the colour standing stark against your skin, and you roll your eyes, unable to keep the smile off of your face.

“It’s alright,” You reply nonchalantly, not willing to make the greaser's head any bigger than it already is, trying your best to starve off his rapidly growing ego. The blonde gives you a wolfish grin, eyebrows raising as if waiting for you to go on.

“Just alright?” He challenges you, leaning closer so that his lips are practically brushing against your ear, his breath causing goosebumps to break out across your exposed skin.

“Mhmm... Just alright,” You hum, forcing yourself to meet his gaze evenly, trying your best to keep your voice steady. “Now let me go.”

You struggle to pull yourself free, but he holds fast, his grin widening and his hands sliding slowly downward, palms skimming across your sides, before coming to rest on your hips, hands rough against your soft skin. “No can do, dollface.” He offers you a helpless shrug, and if it weren’t for the smug look written all across his features, you would almost believe that he is being entirely sincere. However, you also know that he is just as troublesome as he is charming, and that being sincere is something Dallas Winston hardly ever does.

Still, your resistance wanes after he places gentle kisses along the column of your neck and shoulder, and you can't help but melt at his touch, closing your eyes as you lean into him, allowing your head to fall backwards and resting on his broad chest, feeling the rhythmic beat of his heart.

“Just a couple more minutes,” he mumbles, his breath fanning across your skin as he trails open-mouthed kisses up your neck, nipping playfully at your throat and grinning wildly.

“Fine,” you concede. You don’t really want to get up yet anyway, not when you could just stay here with him. Sure, you’ve now only got roughly fifteen more minutes until you have to be leaving for work, but you can cross that bridge when you get there.

For now, you want to spend these last few fleeting moments wrapped up in the thin sheet Dallas keeps draped over the both of you, relishing in the hushed silence that hangs throughout the room, rare yet forever welcome, just like these soft moments.

They’re rare, but oh so precious, and even though this isn’t exactly how you’d imagined spending your morning, you couldn't imagine having it any other way.

𝐚𝐬𝐤𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐧 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐬!!

#the outsiders #the outsiders x reader #the outsiders headcanons #the outsiders preferences #the outsiders imagine #dallas winston #dallas winston x reader #dallas winston headcanons #dallas winston imagine #darry curtis #sodapop curtis #ponyboy curtis #johnny cade #two bit mathews #steve randle

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mae-is-crazy · 1 year

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Wow. This is it. This is the final installment to (what I wasn’t expecting to be a series) Tiny Hands. Thank you to the original requester (who submitted their request anonymous) for giving me my kickstart on this platform. Thank you to all of the readers for your funny comments that pushed me to continue writing. I cannot wait to show you what else I have in store. So (will a word count well over my expectations) I present to you TINY HANDS PART III

Tiny Hands (Neteyam x Fem! Human Reader) Part III

Synopsis: One life ends. Another begins.

(This story is unedited. Edits will be conducted at a later time).

Neteyam wakes in the middle of the night without Y/N at his side.

The first thing that hit him was confusion. He figured she had just scurried off to check her Avatar body (like it had just woken up and walked away, which of course wasn’t possible). Nothing to worry about. He mentally shrugged to himself, before snuggling deeper into the mattress and closing his eyes.

The next thing was fear. Neteyam’s ears perked up towards the bathroom door when he heard light sniffling on the other side. He sat up, giving himself a second to catch himself before he heard a quiet sob. Without even thinking, the boy leapt from his spot, tossing the blanket too small for his frame aside and almost slamming into the door. It was locked.

“Y/N?” He croaked, hating how weak his voice sounded. He knocked on the door a few times as he rested his head against the door. “Y/N, are you alright?”

The soft crying sounds stopped, but he got no answer. He knocked again. “Y/N?”

“I-I’m okay.”

Relief. He sighed, letting his forehead laze on the door. “Please, let me see you.”

Neteyam listened for the sound of her breathing. It sounded more like hiccups. She didn’t open the door for a few minutes, but when he heard the lock click, Neteyam wasted no time as he slammed the door opened, looking for his Y/N.

What he saw shattered his heart. Y/N was hovering over the sink, her hands covering her trembling lips that threatened to let out more sobs. Her eyebrows danced up and down as they scrunched together, tears staining her already deathly pale skin.

God, she looked terrible.

“Oh Y/N…” Neteyam stepped closer, kneeling down to her level and letting her collapse into him. She wrapped her bony arms around his broad shoulders, resting her head into the crook of his neck as she continued her bout of crying. Neteyam held the girl close, resting his head on top of hers as he sent her soothing shushes and back rubs. He tried to tell her the things she loved to hear- “It’s okay”, “Maway (BE CALM)”, “I’m right here”- the things that settled her down. But the frantic huffing did not stop.

Neteyam forced Y/N to pry her arms from around his neck, He cupped her face in his hands, brushing away the tears from her red cheeks. “Tell me. Tell me what is going on.”

Y/N shook her head, trying to hide her face with her hands, though Neteyam was quick to peel them away, squeezing them around his own. “Nete, I-I-I can’t do it.”

“Do what?”

Y/N waved her arms around her in a flustered frenzy. “This whole thing is just becoming too much. I-I can’t think straight.” She turned towards the mirror, cringing at the red puffy skin circling her glassy eyes. Neteyam stared at her reflection, noticing how even kneeling his forehead reached past the view of the glass. He studied the girl not even half his size here to him, the girl he promised to protect for as long as she had lived.

In this life, or another.

In this body, or another.

It no longer mattered to him.

Neteyam cleared his throat, watching Y/N wipe her nose. All this time, she’d been persistent about seeing this thing through and joining The People as full Na’vi. She never showed any sign of doubt or weakness, even throughout all of the needles and painful reactions to medications Neteyam could never pronounce correctly. But now, finally, after all this time, she allowed herself to share with her lover what he always knew was there.

“I can promise you she’s more scared than she lets on. She needs someone to be there for her.”

Neteyam rested his head on Y/N’s chest, her heartbeat settling, but only slightly. “What worries you? Why now?”

Y/N played with Neteyam’s hands, measuring the length from her wrist to the tip of their middle fingers. Neteyam grinned lightly at her childish toying. “You were right.”

“What do you mean?”

Y/N looked away from her reflection with a scowl. “People haven’t come back in the past. I’m just worried that’ll happen to me too.”

Neteyam sighed heavily through his nose, nodding with understanding. He wondered what his father was thinking his last night as a human. Knowing that everything you knew about yourself and your lifestyle would be forever and irreversibly changed. Knowing that it could kill him. There were no takebacks with this.

“I do not believe Eywa brought us together just to take you away from me,” Neteyam reassured.

Y/N dropped her hands to her side, her crying subsided. She leaned more into Neteyam’s body with a weak yawn, and he took that as his signal to head back to bed.

There was no way for Neteyam to reassure Y/N. There was nothing he could say or do to prove to her that she would be his no matter what happened. At the end of the day, it was them against the world.

When the two settled in bed, Neteyam tucked a loose strand of Y/N’s hair from her face, looking deep into her still somewhat teary eyes. She stared at him with an intensity that had his heart fluttering.

“Try and get some sleep,” he whispered, planting a featherlike kiss on her forehead. She says something that’s muffled by her pillow.

She does sleep that night.

Neteyam doesn’t, waiting for her to wake up crying again with his arms ready to reach out and cradle her.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“You’re telling me you’ve never danced before?”

“Of course I have,” Neteyam says, taking a quick huff from his mask before stretching by the window. The day was early, the sun just barely reaching past the mighty trees of Pandora, but high enough to shine through the lab.

Y/N rolled her eyes from her spot on the mattress. “Yeah, but not like that.” She points to the television, where a black and white film was playing. Neither of them was really watching it; the background audio was just an easy way to fix the thick tension and fear in the air. A human man and women stood underneath a lamp post in the pouring rain, hands interlocked and swaying to a light cello melody in the night.

Neteyam scratched the back of his neck, bringing her a small steaming portion of chowder. It was the only food Y/N could keep down lately, much to the girl’s distaste. She stuck her tongue out as he sat next to her, handing her the bowl. He nudged her, encouraging her to take a bite.

“Last time I have to eat this crap,” Y/N huffed, scooping herself a pitiful amount and trying her best not to make a crunchy face at the bland flavors. “No, but seriously. That’s just sad.”

“What? The food or my lack of human dance knowledge?”

“Both.”

Neteyam chuckled, focusing on the two Sky People. The television was fuzzy and jittered every few seconds, but he could made out the particular choreograph, gliding to the side, watching for each other’s shoes. The women’s head rested on her man’s shoulders, letting him hold one of her hands while the other rested on her back.

The Na’vi boy stood up, holding a hand out to Y/N. She sat back, tilting her head as he stepped in front of the screen.

“Dance with me.”

“What?” She giggled with a mouthful of chowder. Nevertheless, she set her bowl aside, taking his hand and standing up. Her legs gave out on her, and with a ‘Whoop!’, she came tumbling down, not before Neteyam studied her, helping her regain her balance. He looked at the T.V. once more, watching the pattern the actor’s set themselves on with their foot placement.

Neteyam lifted the girl off the ground, letting her wrap her arms as tight as she could around his neck as he set his arms across her back. He took slow steps, feeling her feet brush against his knees with each step. Y/N sighed into Neteyam’s body, letting herself go limp in his hold.

God, he would miss this. Holding her close like this, her itty-bitty body against his large frame.

Y/N hummed along to the tune, a tune Neteyam was not yet familiar with. It wasn’t like any of the instruments they had back at home, nor was it as feverish or fast-paced. It made swaying to the song chords feel like floating in water. Effortless and natural. It soothed the young couple’s hearts.

Neteyam and Y/N kept this up even after the movie finished, when the main menu song would loop itself every twenty seconds. Eventually that shut itself off too, leaving the only sounds in the room being Neteyam’s light footsteps and the two’s rhythmed breathing.

Y/N tightened her hold around Neteyam. “You know I love you, right?”

Neteyam’s heart fluttered, and he could hear his tail tap against the mattress at he continued dancing. “Yes.”

“I just wanted to remind you.”

He pulled away from the girl, bending down to her level to cup her face in his hands. She looked unnervingly dull, trying her best to give him a smile but failing miserably.

“You’re going to be okay,” he reassured her (and himself). “I know it.”

All she could do was nod.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The night had come.

Jake walked in front, forming a path for Neteyam as he carried Y/N bridal style close to his chest. She shyly kept her face hidden; her bare body being just barely covered up with vines from the woods. She was quiet the entire trip leaving the lab, through the Omaticaya village, and to the base of the Tree of Souls. Jake approached the roots of the grand tree first, carrying Y/N’s limp Avatar body in his own arms, gently placing the lifeless body on the ground.

He turned to his son with a firm nod, stepping aside as Mo’at came into view, watching Neteyam hesitantly set Y/N down. For a moment, she didn’t release her hold around his neck.

“Woah,” she whispered to herself, looking at the massive crowd behind Neteyam. The entire clan was sit cross crossed on the mossy landscape. Neteyam didn’t bother looking, prying her fingers apart and off of his back. She tried to sit up until Mo’at placed a light hand on her shoulder, a gentle demand to lay down. Neteyam watched fog begin to build up in her mask as she breaths became heavier and erratic.

He pet her hair, leaning close to her ear so that only she could hear him. “I love you so much Y/N. I am so proud of you.”

She chuckled nervously, reaching a trembling hand and grasping ahold oh his. He held her tiny hands in his large ones, holding them tight with a weak smile. He needed to be strong for her.

Strong heart.

No fear.

“You will sleep now,” Mo’at announced, and on cue, Y/N’s eyelids grew heavier. At first, she tried to fight it, but Neteyam cupped a hand to her cheek, still holding one of her hands in his.

“See you in a minute,” he promised.

It looked like Y/N wanted to say something to him, but she never got that chance before letting her eyes shut and her body fall asleep.

Neteyam held his breath now, allowing himself to succumb to the fears that he’d been trying to hide from Y/N for years now.

It was all in Eywa’s hands now.

“Ting mikun ayoheru rutze,” Mo’at began as The People swayed in unison. Everyone rested a hand on each other’s shoulders as the ground began pulsating to a beat, almost like a heartbeat.

“Srung si poeru, Ma Eywa,” the clan spoke together. The bioluminescent ground beneath them rippled to the base of the Spirit Tree. Spider watched from afar, as he was not allowed to partake in the sacred event, keeping to himself as she silently sent prayers for his sister.

Neteyam continued to kneel by her side, mumbling to Eywa as he wished for his lover to come back to him. He watched with teary eyes as both Y/n’s human and Avatar bodies lay unconscious. A lit of undergrowth rose from the ground, connecting to the back of both vessel’s necks.

To most all around him, Neteyam was extremely calm. Though Jake and Neytiri could see the boy’s face, and they too began to fear not only for Y/N but for their son.

They knew that, if he didn’t have Y/N, their son would be gone forever.

What if this was the last time he got to see her beautiful eyes?

What if he could never show her the true wonders of Pandora? Never see their secret world in the floating mountains, to show her how to fly her own Ikran, to never watch her eyes light up as she connected to the Tree of Souls for the first time.

He wouldn’t be able to live with himself.

And Neytiri understood every single thing he was feeling.

“Pori tireati, munge mí ngai” Mo’at continued, waving her hands over Y/N’s human body and dancing them to the Avatar body a few steps to the left.

The clan continued to repeat themselves, much louder this time in hopes their words could be heard by their goddess. “Srung si poeru, Ma Eywa!”

Netyeam could feel himself breaking out in a nervous sweat, tightening his grip on her hand when he felt her fingers twitch ever so slightly.

“Ulte ting ayoer ni’eyng ngeyä ya! Tiviran po ayoekip! NA NA’VIYÄ HAPXI!” Neteyam’s grandmother stood over Y/N’s still Avatar body. Neteyam rested his forehead on the small hand he held, forcing his eyes closed in hopes of calming his pounding heartbeat.

Mo’at’s eyes rolled into the back of her head as she lowered his voice, “Eo Eywa oe’ia. Eo Eywa oe’ia. Eo Eywa oe’ia.”

“Come on Y/N,” he whined gently. “Come back to me.”

He felt her hand go slack under his grip. He straightened his back, snapping his eyes shut. He saw how her chest stilled and the muscles in her body relaxed completely. Under less tense circumstances, he would’ve melted at how peaceful and innocent she looked.

But he wanted nothing more for her to wake up.

He shot a panicked face to Mo’at, who instantly snapped out of her trance, directing her calls of action to the clan before her, “Lu hasey!”

It was done.

All he could do was wait.

Jake was up in an instant, followed quickly by Neytiri, who placed a supportive hand on his shoulder. She felt like this was a sick joke, watching her son in the same stop she was all those years ago when it was her love. Everyone watched as the young to-be Olo’eyktan remove the human girl’s breathing mask, the seal going off with a sharp hiss and placing it aside. He connected his forehead to hers, already feeling how clammy her skin was. He placed his free hand on her face, a hand that was the size of her entire head.

Jake watched his eldest son give one last squeeze to Y/N’s hand before moving to the Avatar body on his left, positioning himself in the same spot next to her, reaching for a much larger, blue hand. It fell limp in his hold.

This was the first time he’d seen her Avatar body so close. His heart settled slightly when he saw the mole that had made if from her human body to her Avatar body. He placed a kiss on one of her cheeks, tilting his head as tears began to build in his eyes again. It blurred his vision, and he didn’t care that his family could now see that.

“Hey,” Neteyam spoke to the girl that couldn’t hear him. “Come back to me, Y/N. Everybody wants to meet you.”

Neytiri smiled at the boy’s words, beginning to hope herself to the new member to the clan to wake up.

Jake knew of the debilitating journey that was passing through the eyes of Eywa, but he would be there to welcome you with open arms, when you were ready.

And, after a few more minutes, it happened.

Neteyam could feel her hand twitch in his.

She let out a light moan as her eyes moved underneath her eyelids.

Then they opened.

It wasn’t the traditional Na’vi yellow or tawny. No, they were hers. He sent a silent thanks to Norm and Max for letting her keep another part of her past body. It was the same sparkling E/C she’d always had, and Neteyam couldn’t hide the light chuckle as he watched her eyes lazily wonder around her surroundings. She wiggled her feet and yawned, looking at her boyfriend.

“I told you everything would be okay,” Neteyam smiled.

Y/N’s eyebrows scrunched together as she slowly moved her head to look around. Neteyam’s heart skipped a beat; had she forgotten where she was? Who she was?

Y/N took a deep breath, but immediately, stopped, her eyes widening in a fierce panic as she slapped her hands to cover her nose and mouth.

Neteyam shook his head, trying ot take her hands away from her face. “Hey her hey, it’s okay. It’s okay. Breath.”

She shook her head, her eyes meeting the blue skin of his hands… or, her hands. She blinked once twice, three times, before pulling her hands away from her mouth. She gasped as she realized the large blue skin was now on her, apart of her, forever and always. Her mouth sat ajar, and Neteyam wasn’t sure what to do.

Jake could sense the nervous energy from his son, so he stepped closer. He crouched down next to his eldest son, giving a reassuring nod.

“How do you feel,” he asked.

Y/N looked into his eyes. They looked soft and inviting, and she looked over at Neytiri, she continued to receive welcoming smiles.

Though rumbly, Y/N gave him a light “I feel weird,”, resulting in a gentle laugh from both Jake and Neytiri.

Neteyam leaned his forehead against hers, each closing their eyes. She could feel his warm breath on her face, letting herself sink into his touch. “I’m so proud of you,” he told her.

That night, the Omaticaya people celebrated. They had a feast, crafting mouthwatering dishes for their blessing from Eywa herself, dancing to traditional songs into the night. Tuk dragged the girl around, showing her off to the tribe and bragging about how she’d braded the new clam mate’s hair shortly after her ceremony (the braids were terribly uneven, so Neytiri had to pull her aside and do them when her daughter wasn’t looking). Kiri and Lo’ak bickered when they tried to find the ‘perfect’ hammock for her to sleep in, but Neteyam silently know that they’d be sharing a space tonight. Spider couldn’t stay long, but he congratulated his older sister on her successful soul transfer.

Towards the end of the celebration, Neteyam and Y/N slipped away from the shriveling crowd. They raced into the night sky, replaying the same motions that occurred all those years ago.

“God, I’ll never get over this,” Y/N huffed from behind Neteyam, clinging to him with a vice-like grip.

Neteyam shrugged teasingly. “You’re going to have to soon. You will need to get your own Ikran now that you’re Na’vi.”

“Why would I do that when I have you to fly me around?”

He turned to shot a playful grin, but caught himself when he looked into her eyes. Her braids thrashed in the wind as she kept her eyes sealed shut, though creasing her eyebrows at the sudden shift in Neteyam’s posture. He finally got a good look at her freckles, which were lighting up the night. The pattern rested mostly on her forehead, with only a few scattered along the bridge of her nose. There were even less on her cheeks, but her bright eyes made up for that. They were new and different compared to the standard Na’vi, and it made the girl all the more precious to Neteyam.

They landed gently on their secret floating rock, Neteyam hopping off first, reaching out to Y/N, only for her to scoot off the flying creature and stepping onto the ground by herself. She huffed before stretching, letting her bare feet graze the soft landscape. He watched her, only just noticing how he barely had to look down at her. Just this morning he was about at his hip height wise, but now he was maybe half a foot taller.

She met his eyes with a quick smile before taking the lead. “Man, I’ve missed this place.”

Neteyam hummed in agreement. He would never admit it, but he hadn’t returned since she’d gotten sick. It just didn’t sit right with him to savor this wondrous getaway while his other half was withering away, curled in pain in her dark and lonely bedroom.

She ducked over hanging branched, skipping through the feet as the world lit up with each step. She lightly brushed her fingertips against dense foliage, getting used to the way her arms stretched further than she was used to. She looked back at Neteyam with a wide smile, her shiny white fangs revealing themselves.

He quickened his pace, grabbing a hold of her tail and lightly tugging it, causing the girl to stop in her place and instinctively slap he boy on the arm. Neteyam gave a face pouty face, Y/N sticking his tongue out as she dashed into the night. For only being in her new body for a few hours, she was quickly getting the hand of it. Even Jake commented on it earlier, watching Lo’ak and her chase each other through the campgrounds like raging lunatics.

“Jesus, and I thought Lo’ak’s energy was enough,” he joked as he walked to bed with his mate. “That boy’s got his hands full with that one.”

When Y/N’s lungs could no longer keep up, she hunched over a familiar pond, resting her hands on her knees as she took deep breaths. Neteyam, who would run for many more miles, stopped at her side, grinning at the already exhausted girl.

“My feet hurt,” she spoke in between breaths.

“Your body is still like a baby. You need to take it easy.”

Y/N rolled her eyes, straightening herself out. She collected her breathing with a weak chuckle, feeling her heartbeat relax.

But it quickly sped up again. The deep intensity in Neteyam’s narrowed eyes made the air feel thicker. He moved closer, their chests almost brushing against each other as she planted both of his hands on her waist. She reached around him, putting her head on his chest. His heartbeat was going the same speed at hers.

“Y/N,” he whispered her name like it was a secret. Her knees practically went weak from underneath her.

“Neteyam.”

Then… she started swaying?

She moved her head up, forgetting how much taller she was now and almost whacking his chin, His freckles doing a terrible job at hiding the light blush developing up his neck and to his cheeks. Y/N used every fiber in her body to lock her eyes on his mesmerizing eyes and not down at his lips, which were slightly agape.

The two began stepping every few seconds, Y/N still unsure of what was happening.

Neteyam’s chest rumbled against Y/N as he began humming a tune, and then it hit her like a train.

It was the same song from the movie this morning. Of the two people slow dancing into the night, bathed in light as they embraced in one of the most intimate forms of love.

Y/N gave Neteyam a goofy, toothy grin, letting herself pick up on the tune. She accidentally stepped on the taller man’s toes with a quick apology, which he didn’t even adnowledge. He removed one hand from her hip, placing a tender brush of his palm against her cheek. The two stared at each other, a newfound appreciation and respect for one another.

After all they’d been through, they finally made it.

After many nights of tears, pain, uncertainty, the two young Na’vi never crumbled under pressure.

They two could now live comfortably as one, just as Eywa had planned all along.

Neteyam planted a soft kiss on Y/N’s lips. It was delicate, like an insect’s wings, and they sat there just long enough to feel her warm skin against his. Between the two, kissing was their way of showing gratitude, respect, appreciation. From light pecks on the forehead every morning to more intense, intimate touching, the vulnerability the two shared with each other was a sensuous joining of souls, regardless of which body they housed.

Y/N pulled away first, flashing an innocent smile with wide eyes. “Oel ngati kameie, Neteyam.”

He breathed out, resting his forehead against hers as they continued swaying in a sloppy rhythm. The Pandorian wildlife was their personal symphony, playing the two lovebirds a one-of-a-kind tune. He rested his hands behind her back, just under her braided queue.

For the first night in years, Neteyam could finally breathe. Here, in this moment, on this perfect night, he had the most incredible women in his arms. He though about this night for many, many eclipses, wondering if they’d even make it this far. There were too many nights where he couldn’t sleep, only focusing on the frail human girl’s lumber some breathing. For the longest time, she couldn’t even walk out of her room without stopping to breathe, leaning against the doorframe as Neteyam rushed to her side to return her back to bed.

But now, she was here, standing on her own two feet, in this body much stronger than she ever was. She took in the air around her with no effort, no more tears of pain or fear of not waking up to see the next day. She was here, she was beautiful, she was alive. With him.

And he would make sure to keep it that way for as long as they lived.

“Oel ngati kameie, Y/N.”

(Bellow are the individuals that requested to be tagged when this finale released. Thanks guys!!)

@y2kakyo @iloveavatar @fangirl-2610 @nneteyam @perfectprofessorloverapricot @sassy-persona @wren9fvlcver @answer-the-sirens @liltjr @ntyilh @in-luvais @hydriko @doyouevenlovemeworld @irissfoot @forassgard @tsibba01 @anstark @lazyladybug18 @laurens0 @rosie-186 @O-tatiana-0 @kyleimd @keneanna266 @fangirl-2610 @casedoina @wheremygorliesat @mata0-Omata @kaite-tibo @persondoingstuff @yanitazai @erikaar @ethaiper

#avatar #avatar 2 #avatar fandom #avatar fanfiction #avatar movie #avatar the way of water #avatar twow #fanfic #fanfiction #jake sully #neteyam x y/n #neteyam x you #neteyam #neteyam x reader #Mae-is-crazy #tiny hands

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ivelleciel · 7 days

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IRIS BENEATH THE SUN

Chapter One: Betrayal Genre: Mafia!Haechan, Mafia!NCT, Biker Haechan, Step on me Haechan, Haechan Dom

Pairings: Haechan x Reader (Iris)

Warning: Smut, Violence, Vulgar Language, Mention of blood, MDNI

Intro: Where a girl finds herself trapped within her brother's protection. One would find it a blessing but for Iris, it's suffocation- and she's someone who would often like the thought of being choked, but simply not like this. Raised within thick walls inside the perimeters of their mansion, She finds herself treasuring every opportunity she gets whenever she is given volunteer work for the people in need outside the city of glass she was born in. Fun and Exciting is how she always saw these trips, it was until darkened windows of SUVs blocked their way from going any further in the middle of the desert. It was the only land of nothing dividing the city and the suburbs and yet they were stopped by armed men, six- seven? she couldn't count as she was too in shock, scared even much more so when her side of the vehicle opened and a pair of gloved hands pulled her away from your handmaiden's side. "Giselle!" Iris cried and a bag was hovered over her head and the last thing she remembered was Giselle's screams, Men simultaneously giving orders to her bodyguards and a gun going off. Then there was black.

"Ha ha. So funny. What then? Bore myself to death by my room's window? waiting for prince charming to save me? No thank you. Give me twenty more of these tasks and consider me the happiest sister ever." Mumbling her last words as she fix her hair to a half-do with a claw clip. Iris saw Johnny's sad gaze through her mirror before he could mask it with a stoic smile. She sighed and faced her brother, leaning in to hug herself tight on his chest.

"Stop babying me.. It's only for a few hours. What's the worst that could happen?"

"I heard there are many forest spiders in the village. Thousands." Johnny exaggerated, trying to coax her with her teasing by blabbering stupid things and then he sighed when Iris only hummed her soft chuckle, unconvinced. "... you're just the only family I have left."

"And so are you to me." Iris sighed, looking up to her brother with an exhausted expression. "But mom and dad would have wanted us to live life with more meaning than in fear.."

"I know.." Johnny sighed, tapping the cap Iris had on before marching to her room's door. "Well chop chop city girl. They're not gonna feed themselves." Chuckling as they make their way downstairs, Iris gave one last look at the frame by her bed. Her late mother, late father, Johnny and herself. Smiling by the lake that held many memories for her and Johnny, some of which they didn't know would end in a tragedy.

Iris saw Giselle, one of her many good friends, packing extra necessities for Iris and the trip. Back hugging the petite frame, Giselle squealed, too focused on her task in hand to even notice Iris before glaring at the girl. "Silly! What if I dropped your anxiety pills?" she heard Gigi clicked her tongue, Iris resumed with a bratty smile to where Yuta was by their white van. "Everything settled Yuta?" Yuta, clasped his armed weapon on his belt and smiled at Iris, an unspoken answer to which Iris nodded to before getting up inside the van. Settling on the middle seat, between the window spot and the collapsing chair, she earned a perfect view of Mark.

A container in one hand and the other with what looks like an ammunition box, being stored inside another case. "Put the Magazine under the compartment along with out other containers yeah?" Iris could hear him order Jeno in which the latter obeyed to. She couldn't help but gape at Mark and his focused stance. If Iris was a completely eye-roller at Johnny's protectiveness then with Mark it was all heart eyes and red cheeks. Who wouldn't if the male holds glory to the uniform Johnny assigned them to. Camo pants and Army green fitted shirt is one of the fun treats Iris would look forward to with these programs, along with the nurturing feeling of helping other people.

She heard a throat clearing beside her and Iris just continued gawking. "Can a man get any more handsome?" Iris sighed, pouting her lips when Mark left her view to head inside, presumably to bid farewell to Johnny and reassure him that He and Jaehyun would take good care of you and the task in hands. "I wouldn't know, I'm not the one drooling a pool over here." Iris bit her lips, side eyeing her friend with a snort. "Oh please, as if I don't notice how you look at Yuta?" Giselle smacked Iris arm for that playfully before scooting herself on the window seat. "House Rules. We can't date co workers, but nobody said that about drooling over them." Giselle tossed her hair to tease Iris before being silence by the large frame towering by the sliding door. "Everyone ready?" Johnny mused, eyeing all the equipments and bags in the back seat before giving one last stern look at Iris.

"You behave-" Iris groaned when she saw Yuta, Mark and Jeno exchange smiles behind. "I will! It's not like I won't come straight home. Please stop." Iris whined further before she let Johnny ruffle her hair, backing away from the door to close it himself. Yuta and Jeno positioned in their seats in front. She only got lucky twice that she get to have Mark accompany her in the van.

Two vehicles were to transmit from their mansion. One where Jaehyun and Mark would carry with weapons and their tents and boxes of goods, And one where she's on with Giselle, Yuta and Jeno. It was always four guards with too many weapons. Johnny sees it as not enough but Iris claimed it was more than enough given that it was only her in the vehicle and nothing really ever happened to her despite Johnny's protectiveness.

Somewhere along their trip, Iris was sitting comfy by the window of the collapsing chair with Giselle passed out and a pillow on her lap. She just woke up from her nap and noticed that they were far from near the town they were heading to and yet also too far from home. She checked back as she pushed an air bud in her ear, the van Mark and Jeno are in behind them with safe distance. She played a soft song, ready to day dream about Mark and what would it be like if he was in their van instead of Jeno- that is until she saw a motorcycle beaming his headlights, asking to pass through and overtake. A male in all black sits on the Kawasaki Ninja H2R. Black skinny jeans, black boots, chains for necklace if she knew any better and a black shirt underneath his leather jacket.

His gloves switched the lever of his bike causing it to roar as he zooms pass them, earning a scoff at Yuta. "Cocky motherfucker." he muttered before she hears Jeno chuckle. She could have sworn that the rider could see her through their tinted glass, staring right back at her but that would be silly because again their vans were tinted, to its most darkest available shade at that. Shaking the silly thought away, she went back to staring out her window and enjoying the scenery as they drove through the desert.

"Target: Flower is in position. 800 meters away from the bullseye."

Static was heard from the other end before he heard the stern voice call back at him.

"We are ready to engage."

Haechan responded with a 'Copy.' before speeding away from the white vans. Certain that he was out of view, he parked behind a boulder , big enough to hide his motorcycle and himself as he positioned a chain of spikes across the road, plan B in place in case "Plan A: ambush" failed- to which it often doesn't, the cocky side of him crediting himself to the lack of mission failing when he's part of it. All he has to do now is wait and upon calculating he has enough time left for a quick smoke. Sitting his helmet on his bike and pulling out the Marlboro stick from his jacket's pocket he lit it up and waited as he leans on the boulder.

Puffing a few smoke, He heard screeches of tires and screams came after that.

Haechan made his way to the scene, stepping on Yuta's back as he tackled on the ground by Jaemin and Jeno wounded by Chenle on the leg.

"Boss said to spare them and just take the girl." Jaemin said as Renjun struggled to open the van's door. "She's won't let me open it-"

"Don't make another move!" Mark was able to free himself from Xiao Jun's grasp, wounded and bleeding on the side when Mark kicked him off but Mark was far from okay as well, with a gash on his lip and an open wound on his arm. Mark aimed the gun on his hand to Haechan, making the tanned skin male chuckle.

"You must be Mark." Mark unfazed by how Haechan knew he his name remained in position. "Don't worry. We won't hurt your princess, lover boy." Mark was then knocked out by Jaehyun from behind. One last look of betrayal from Mark and he was passed out on the ground.

Haechan nudged Renjun away and pulled the door open. Iris yelled and kicked when Renjun tried to manhandle her out to which he succeeded and Giselle screamed behind her before she was knocked out as well by a cloth to their mouths and nose.

Haechan watched as Iris gaze lands on his. Flicking the cigar away before leaning on her with a smirk. Her eyes beamed light brown as she tried to make out what Haechan looked like as he towers over her in front of the sun. 'Familiar' is what her last thoughts were before everything went black.

note: visit @Ivelle_Ciel on ao3 for faster updates ˆ̑՝̮ˆ̑❤︎

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shoyoist · 2 years

Text

— 𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐎𝐎𝐄𝐃 : hanma shuji.

content: fluff + somewhat suggestive bec that's just how shuji is. he's got a couple new tattoos, which r inspired by leepoon-06's amazing art (linked at the end).

— . ｡˚ ♡ just waking shuji up for work & giving him kisses.

"my love," you whisper, shutting off hanma's alarm for him, after the third time it had snoozed itself and rung again.

the man doesn't stir where he lays on the bed beside you, wide shoulders hunched together as he curls up under the blankets, his blonde-and-black curls tousled over his forehead as he buries his face deeper in his pillow. "shuji? you need to wake up."

there's a moment of silence in which you wait for him to respond, knowing that he is awake, before a muffled groan issues out from between the pillows. "doll. call 'saki and tell him i can't come in today."

"today's meeting is important though, baby." you hum, placing a hand on his back.

it's been a while since you've woken up to see your husband still asleep beside you.

the lazy kisses he presses to your face and neck to wake you before he leaves for work are sweet. and opening your eyes to a hazy view of him grinning down at you, all dressed up, smart and handsome in a pin-striped suit and gold rimmed glasses is a delight—

but really, if given a choice, you'd wish to wake up and turn around to see him sleeping in your bed over that, any day. but still, you respect and support him in his work, no matter how dangerous it is and how often it keeps you apart. and you know you can't let him sleep in. not today. "shuji, you know you can't miss this one."

"i know." he grumbles, voice deep and hoarse with sleep. turning around, he pushes the blankets away as he shifts to lay on his back with a sigh. "but i don't fuckin' wanna go."

the early morning light casts a dim glow through the bedroom, lighting up hanma's pale skin, and you get a beautiful view of the tattoos he's got across his chest.

there's another moment of silence, before you wrap an arm around his waist, over his stomach, and pull yourself up against him.

gently, you press a kiss to each of the inked snake heads that sit on his pectorals. "you'll be fine, you big ass baby."

"aw, fuck you." he mutters, pulling a face at you that just looks cute with his unfocused, sleepy stare and messy hair. then, he sighs, and turns towards you a little. "more."

"more, what?" you play, and he rolls his amber eyes at you, the bright gold of them flashing with mock annoyance. "c'mon, shuji. tell me."

it's the exact same thing he'd said to you last night, as you lay pressed to the sheets under him — and he remembers it with a fond chuckle, before he locks gazes with you again, smiling softly. "more kisses, babydoll. give them to me."

"where's the word?" you tease, placing your hand on his muscled stomach and lifting yourself up by your other elbow, looking down at him with a mimick of the mischevious smirk he always gave you.

"please." he says, surprisingly obedient, and you mumble a 'good boy, shuji' — before you kiss him again, lips on the sharp curve of his jaw.

he lets out a contented sound that's almost like a purr, closing his eyes and laying back as you kiss him. you feel him flinch when you exhale into his neck, tickling him a little, and you giggle when he gives you a warning pinch on the cheek.

hovering over his frame now, you cup his face with your palm, and move his head aside to kiss his shoulder, where the tattoo of the snake coils with the leaves of a pair of roses that are inked onto his back.

he barely breathes as you make your way down, lips trailing his collarbones and chest, relishing in your soft touches and mumbled praise. "so handsome, shuji."

his muscles are relaxed, and his skin is warm from having been nestled under the blankets for so long. "lovely," you tell him. "my shuji's a lovely sight to see in the morning."

"fuck," he says, large hands finally moving to slot themselves at your waist. "you know this isn't helpin' me get outta bed."

"these are good morning kisses." you chide, tapping him on the cheek, at the lift of his cheekbone. "you're supposed to get encouragement from them, and get up for work all energized."

"it's not working." he protests, flashing you a lopsided smirk as he runs his hands down to your hips for a squeeze, before bringing them back around your waist. "it's making me wanna do something else."

"you'll only get that after you come home from work." you shake your head, crawling over to give him one last kiss on his lips, short and sweet. "now go."

"that's a more convincing deal." he chuckles, sitting up as you rolll off of him, back to your side of the bed. "but," he pauses. "all those kisses on my tattoos, and only a couple on my face? just one for my lips?"

"your tattoos are pretty." you answer, settling back into the sheets and closing your eyes.

"you're prettier," he smiles. "when i wrap these tattooed hands around your lil' throat."

your heart jumps at the tone of his voice — but you've practised restraint. giving him a stern look, you nod towards the door that leads to your shared bathroom. "go. now. or you'll be late."

he lets out a laugh, before sliding off the bed and stretching his body out, arms in the air almost brushing the ceiling with how damn tall he is. "fine, whatever my doll wants. better be good 'n wait for me to get back home to you, though."

"of course i will." you reply, and after a pause, you add, "and you better be good and come back home to me, too."

hanma knows what you mean, and though he doesn't look back at you as he says it, the solemn tint of promise in his voice tells you he means it. "i will. i love you, baby."

"i love you, too." you say, watching as he grabs his towel and walks into the bathroom, the muscled panes of his chest and back covered in inked art, snakes and roses adorning his pale skin, where once there were only two tattoos — sin and punishment, on the back of his hands.

your husband conveys sin and punishment towards the rest of the world, with those hands of his, and once he's done, he comes home to you and offers you his heart and his soul, with those very same hands.

tells you he loves you, and that he'll do his best to stay with you forever, with the same mouth that parts to wish death to his enemies.

and of course, you accept. you'll kiss him good morning and shower him with cheesy praise like this every day, if it meant he would love you, and come back home to you every night.

you'd do anything. if it meant he would stay with you forever.

inspired by @/leepoon-06 's out of the world, absolutely gorgeous shuji art.

#☆༉ rekha™#☆༉ dulciloqui.#hanma fluff #tokyo revengers fluff #hanma x reader #tokyo revengers x reader #hanma shuji fluff #hanma shuji x reader #tr x reader #tr fluff #tokyo revengers headcanons #tokyo revengers drabbles #hanma drabbles #hanma shuji drabbles #hanma headcanons #hanma shuji headcanons

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