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makoodles · 1 year

Text

ミ tìtunu

part one | part two | part three (nsfw) | part four (nsfw

🍓pairing: tsu'tey x human fem reader

🍓word count: 9k words (oops)

🍓warnings: alien courting rituals, misunderstandings, accidental sexy touching

yoooo i was not expecting people to like this ahhahahaha but thank you all so much for all your lovely excited comments! they've been so fun to read and honestly pushed me into writing this faster! pls forgive me if i forgot to tag you (i tried to include everyone that asked) 🍓 masterlist

reblogs are always enormously appreciated!

Tsu’tey is beginning to wonder if he had received some irreparable damage to his head in the fall from the sky that had nearly killed him all those months ago. It’s the only explanation for what’s gone so terribly wrong with him.

After his failed first attempt at courting, you don’t come back to the village for a few days. It’s probably a good thing, Tsu’tey tries to convince himself; he needs to decide what it is he truly wants, and how far he’s willing to go to get it. But even though he tries to use the time to himself productively, he finds himself on edge and impatient.

His foul mood is clear to the whole village to see, and so it’s only a matter of time before someone confronts him about it.

It’s just his luck that the person who approaches him about it is Jakesully.

“So,” The new Olo’eyktan drawls as he sidles up to where Tsu’tey is watching a group of young warriors training with their longbows, “Word has it that you’ve chosen a mate.”

They may be brothers in arms and tentative friends, but that doesn’t mean that Tsu’tey is pleased to have him poking around his business. His ears flatten back in a wordless warning to back off, but Jakesully pays no heed to it.

The bastard is grinning, as though this is the most entertained he’s been in weeks. “Word has it that your chosen mate is human.”

“Do not speak on matters you do not understand.” Tsu’tey bares his teeth in a move that is bold at best, considering he is speaking to his clan chief.

But Jakesully just laughs, his stupid shoulders straightening. He has become so confident since becoming one of the people, and Tsu’tey envies him for it. He was sure of himself just like Jakesully once, but now it seems like all he does is doubt himself.

“Relax, brother.” Jakesully says casually, leaning on one leg as he follows Tsu’tey’s gaze out towards the young warriors. “You are too tense. How could she want someone so grumpy?”

Tsu’tey turns to him then, his tail coiled in a tense loop as he glares. “She is a demon.”

Jakesully just rolls his eyes. It's a gesture so human that it’s almost jarring. Sometimes it’s easy to forget that he is alien, just like you.

“Everyone sees the way you look at her.” Jakesully says, raising a brow at him. “It’s a different kind of scowl than you give everyone else.”

Tsu’tey doesn’t think that he scowls that much. He tries to force the frown off his face as he turns to look at Jakesully head on.

“It does not matter what you think you see,” He bites out, frustrated and on-edge with embarrassment. “She is tawtute. Sky demon. She does not see, cannot connect with the People or with Eywa.”

Jakesully is nodding, but he still has that infuriating smirk curling around his mouth that suggests he understands Tsu’tey’s feelings better than Tsu’tey himself does.

“That hasn’t stopped you so far, has it?” He points out with a faux-innocent tone that is utterly unconvincing. “I mean, you certainly seem happier to show her around and explain things to her than you ever were with me.”

“That is because she listens, Jakesully.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Jakesully waves this away as if it’s inconsequential, before his expression shifts.

The next look he levels at Tsu’tey is uncomfortably sober.

“Look. I know that you’ve been having a hard time since...” He trails off, and his eyes dart down towards the harsh, ugly scars that cover Tsu’tey’s torso from where the brutal human weapons called bullets had nearly torn him apart. “Look, who cares what anyone else thinks? The People are still wary of the humans left over, but they’re looking to you as an example on how they should act. You could set a precedent here.”

Tsu’tey clenches his jaw as he stares out at the warriors. Instead of answering, he shouts out to one of the younglings near the edge of their makeshift firing range. “Netu’li, keep your elbows up.”

Netu’li fixes his posture, and the next arrow he looses hits home in a perfect bullseye. Tsu’tey nods in satisfaction.

Jakesully is still staring at the side of his face, and Tsu’tey realises that there is no way for him to escape this conversation. He takes a breath, and tries to ignore the resentful embarrassment coiling in his belly.

“She did not accept my advances.” He mutters, his ears flattened against his skull.

Irritatingly, Jakesully doesn’t seem bothered by this in the slightest.

“Oh yeah?” He drawls. “Hm. Well, I never thought you’d give up so easily. I’m surprised.”

Tsu’tey flicks a quick glance his way. What a ridiculous, painfully transparent attempt at goading him into admitting the interest he’s been trying to deny. The worst part is that it might actually be working.

“I did not say I was giving up.” Tsu’tey says sharply, well aware that he’s playing right into Jakesully’s hands right now. “I am just… I am thinking.”

Jakesully raises his stupid eyebrows, but Tsu’tey is studiously avoiding looking at him now. This whole situation was mortifying enough when it was all going unsaid; now that it’s being discussed, Tsu’tey feels like climbing inside of a yomioang plant and never coming out.

“Well,” Jakesully sounds smug, which should be a warning in itself, “You’d better do some thinking quickly, because I believe that’s her coming now.”

Tsu’tey straightens quickly, and tosses a look over his shoulder. Sure enough, your familiar figure is standing awkwardly by the treeline. It seems as though you’re reluctant to step further into the village; you’re fidgeting with your fingers, eyes darting around until they finally find him.

Something in his lower belly leaps, and he finds himself taking a sharp inhale through his nose at the sight of you. It’s been days since he’s last seen you, and he had been beginning to wonder if you would ever seek him out again. The sight of you here is a ridiculous sort of relief, one that he doesn’t even want to fully think about. Even better is the fact that you look alright, you look healthy. It doesn’t seem as though he’s done lasting damage to you with the meat.

You smile at him, and even from across the village he feels his heart thump against his ribcage. Perhaps you don’t hate him after all.

Aware of your eyes on him, Tsu’tey hefts his longbow from his back and shoots an arrow. It flies straight through the target, and hits it with a heavy, satisfying thump.

Jakesully just laughs. “Wow. Impressive.”

“Be silent.” Tsu’tey grumbles, his tail coiled tightly around his leg. He is anxious in a way that is entirely unbefitting of a warrior, and he resents you for being the cause of it. “I do not wish to speak to her.”

“Oh, come on!” Jakesully tilts his head back, shaking his head as though Tsu’tey is nothing but a child. “I thought we just talked through this!”

Tsu’tey ignores him. He can feel your gaze on his back like a weight, and though he stands straight and tall he cannot bring himself to turn around and meet your eyes. It’s all too much – even from across the camp your presence needles at him, and he hasn’t even decided on what he’s going to do just yet.

Jakesully’s eyes on the side of Tsu’tey’s face don’t help very much either. “Where’s all your confidence from the other night gone, when you practically declared what you wanted in front of the whole clan?”

Tsu’tey’s tail lashes restlessly. That had been a moment of pure madness. “It was rash of me.”

Jakesully just makes a face. “Whatever. Look, if the People could accept a skxawng like me as Olo’eyktan, why wouldn’t they accept your interest in a human mate? They respect you; they’ll respect your choices.”

It’s a reasonable point, but Tsu’tey remains stubbornly silent. It rankles, the way that Jakesully is trying to insert himself into his business. Tsu’tey’s thoughts and feelings about you are confused and conflicted, but they’re private. The way Jakesully speaks about you as though he knows you makes Tsu’tey’s skin prickle.

“I must think on it.” Tsu’tey says at last. It’s a weak response, but he just wants to buy himself some time.

Perhaps Jakesully is right. Tsu’tey has always been strong-willed and stubborn, and has always known exactly what he wanted. Now though, he's floundering. Now he doesn’t know what he wants, and he’s casting about desperately in the hopes that someone will advise him on what to do. After having his life and expectations so soundly upended, he just wants to make his clan proud. He wants their approval, but Jakesully is right – when has he ever given up on anything just because it posed a challenge?

“Fine.” Jakesully says, jarring Tsu’tey from his thoughts. He had nearly forgotten the Olo’eyktan was still there, and it’s unnerving to realise that he’s being watched with a smug sort of smirk. “I’ll keep her company for today, then. Considering you need your space.”

Tsu’tey’s jaw clenches hard but he does not protest. He can’t, not after making such a big deal out of not wishing to speak to you today. His pride is hurt, and all he can do is double-down on his position. Besides, Jakesully is mated to Neytiri, and Tsu’tey knows that he would rather die than stray from her.

That doesn’t stop him from turning his head as Jakesully leaves his side, watching with sharp eyes as the Olo’eyktan approaches you. Even from this distance, he can see the little smile on your face through your mask as you tilt your head up towards him. The sight of it causes something to curdle in his low belly.

That should be him on the receiving end of your sweet little smile. It’s a selfish thought, but one that he can’t quite shake off. The sense of possessiveness surprises even him, and he watches with narrowed eyes as Jakesully leans down to say something to you.

When Jakesully’s stupid five-fingered hand touches upon your shoulder to lead you away to somewhere else within the camp, Tsu’tey feels his tail whip around his ankles in aggravation.

I will try again, He thinks wildly as he turns back around to stare unseeingly at the practicing warriors in front of him. And this time I will not fail to impress.

Now that Tsu’tey has reached the decision to court you (officially), there is much to be prepared. He has never been one to take half-measures, and initiating a courtship is certainly no exception. You may not be Na’vi, but he will court you with all the respect and courtesy as he would if you were one of the People.

Part of him wonders if his decision is written across his face somehow, because the People of the village seem to know. When he begins searching for materials to make an official courting gift for you, he begins getting help from unexpected places.

Some of the children have started leaving pieces of twine and plant fibre in his treehut, and he is pleased to find that it is of good enough quality to begin weaving immediately. The old woman, A’nayla, who is the best at carving beads in the whole village, slaps his hands away impatiently when he attempts to pick out a number of beads for your gift. She directs him instead to some of her shiniest and most vibrant beads, and refuses to make any trades. A gift, she had insisted, her old face crinkling in a knowing smile as she had waved him away.

He feels supported, even more so when Neytiri visits him in his treehut one evening after dinner. It has been a few days since you visited the encampment, but Tsu’tey is determined to have everything in good order before he approaches you in earnest.

When Neytiri enters the small hut he had built in the trees when they first settled in this encampment, she takes a moment to peer around with a neutral expression.

Tsu’tey has been sitting on the woven mat in the middle of the room, but he looks up and waits for his old friend to speak.

“My Jake has told me about your intentions with the tawtute.” She says after a long moment, stepping forward and sinking down to sit in front of him with her legs crossed. “Many people speak of it in the village.”

Tsu’tey’s ear twitches at that, embarrassed, but he just focuses back on his weaving. There’s no point denying it; he does not plan on hiding it for much longer, anyway.

“Yes.” He says simply. “My first attempt was… not successful.”

Neytiri hums. He thinks he can hear an undercurrent of amusement. “Yes. I saw.”

His ears flatten in earnest at that. He had hoped that no one had witnessed that particular humiliation, but that’s no matter. People will soon forget, and he will soon have you distracted with his second (and surely more successful) attempt.

Her eyes fall on the half-finished woven piece in his hands, and she eyes it carefully. “That is too big. She is small, remember.”

“Of course I remember.” He snaps, before raising the half-finished jewelry to his face and squinting at it. “You think it will not fit?”

“Give me.” Neytiri demands, and stretches out her hand.

Tsu’tey passes it without complaint. They have known each other since birth, certainly long enough to forgo any passing formalities and niceties. He trusts Neytiri with his life, his best-friend and once-potential-mate, and he finds himself waiting with his tail curled protectively beside him as he awaits her judgment; not only on his half-finished gift, but also on his choice of a mate.

“This decision I have made,” He says suddenly. “To court the sky demon. It is madness, isn’t it?”

“Yes.” Neytiri speaks with hardly a hesitation, though she doesn’t raise her eyes from his weaving. She starts picking out a loop where he had made a mistake, and begins reweaving it with deft fingers. “But I will not be the one to judge you for that.”

“And Mo’at?”

“She thinks you are a skxawng.” Neytiri says easily, “But she loves you like a son.” The next look she darts at him is quick and sharp out of the corner of her eye. “Out of everyone in the village, your heart was the most firmly closed against the Sky People. Does that not make it all the more meaningful, that you have chosen a sky person as your mate?”

Tsu’tey is silent. He used to think that he knew exactly how his life was going to work out; he would be Olo’eyktan, he would mate with his first love Sylwanin, they would be happy and prosperous and strong together. But that future evaporated like mist before his eyes; not all at once, but gradually, until he could barely see the vapours. His reality is very different now; he clings almost desperately to the idea of you. There have been many people that Tsu’tey has not been strong enough to protect, but you are so small and soft – you need protecting more than anyone he’s ever known, and he’s determined not to let you down.

“She will accept,” Tsu’tey murmurs, before casting an uncertain glance in Neytiri’s direction. “Do you think so?”

“I see her look at you.” Neytiri murmurs back, her mouth curving. “She will accept.”

That brings a rush of relief so sudden and unexpected that Tsu’tey feels it like a physical blow. He keeps his head bowed in the hopes that it will not be so obvious, and hums absently as though he’s only half listening. It’s not enough to convince Neytiri, but he hopes that it works to recoup at least some of his pride.

“You have redecorated.” Neytiri comments, though her eyes stay focused on fixing the small section of the necklace that Tsu’tey had messed up. “Your kelku is inviting.”

That pleases Tsu’tey, and he sits up straighter. Decorating has never been a strong suit of his, and it presented more of a challenge than he had initially anticipated to decorate in such a way that it would appeal to a human. He knows you are very interested in the plants of his planet, considering the amount of time you spend studying them, so he has effectively cushioned the rough wooden walls and floors with softer wide leaves. From the ceiling hangs intense blue eanean flowers and hippophae leaves, lending a soft phosphorescent glow to the small space.

“Humans are weak,” Tsu’tey grunts. “Soft bones, fragile skin. She needs soft surroundings, too.”

Neytiri hums her agreement, before finally lifting her head. In her hands, the knot in the half-finished necklace has been unpicked and resolved. She hands it back, and Tsu’tey takes it cautiously into his hands before peering carefully at her work. Her hands are far more practiced in the art of weaving than his; she has done a wonderful job.

“Thank you.” He says quietly. He is appreciative on several levels; for her weaving, for her company, for her support.

She seems to pick up on what he isn’t saying, as usual. “You should approach her again soon. My Jake says that she is sad – she thinks she has upset you, and that you are angry with her.”

Tsu’tey raises his head sharply at that. He’s not sure if he’s more displeased at the idea that you are upset or the fact that you have apparently been confiding in Jakesully. It is difficult to push past the feeling that you should be confiding in him, that he should be the person offering you comfort. But how could you approach him when he was part of the problem?

“I will find her tomorrow.” He decides. The thought of him losing his chance is sickening – he can’t afford to wait until everything is perfectly prepared. He will just have to do his best with what he’s got so far.

Neytiri grins at him, her lips peeling back of her teeth in a way that is both joyful and intimidating.

“Sìltsan tìtaron.” She says, and Tsu’tey finds himself grinning back without conscious thought.

It is a customary saying in their tribe, used for both chasing prey and courting mates. Good hunting.

When the next day dawns, Tsu’tey curses himself for feeling nervous.

The last time he felt this way was the night before his iknimaya, when he was a fledgling warrior. Even then, he was so confident, his ego inflated by the simple fact that he had never experienced a loss before.

This time is different. He finds himself anxious in a way that he is utterly unused to experiencing, and it makes him bare his teeth in frustration as he bounds down from his treehut into the village properly. It is already a hive of activity, and the familiar buzz of conversation and laughter eases some of the tension out of his shoulders.

He will take this slow, he’s already decided. Slow and careful.

The thought of you refusing him is something that he can’t bring himself to consider; he needs to show you that he is strong, that he is thoughtful and caring, that he can provide for you and keep you safe and make you happy. He has to convince you that there is no one who can care for you better than he can.

Finding you is easy enough; the human scientists that have remained on the planet follow a routine, and you are no different. Besides, as some of the children in the village tell him, you have been lingering close to the village for days now. Ostensibly you are studying the plantlife, but Tsu’tey knows that you have likely been waiting to catch a glimpse of him. The realisation has a hollow feeling of guilt gnawing at his stomach, but he tries to push it aside – he will apologise soon.

He finds you in the forest, only a little while outside of the village. You are not alone; as is standard procedure, you are accompanied by three other scientists and a dreamwalker.

Norm is as awkward as ever in his Avatar state, discussing whatever he is reading from his demon technology with wide eager eyes. Tsu’tey is familiar with Norm now, mostly against his will – Jakesully is fond of the scientist, and he has been invited to take part in village life on several occasions. Tsu’tey will begrudgingly admit that the dreamwalker is respectful of Na’vi life and culture and he has come to accept his presence both on his planet and around his people, but seeing him around you is making him fidgety.

One of the scientists is armed (and the sight of the gun makes his skin itch from the memory of bullets tearing flesh) and Norm is at least Na’vi-sized, but that is the extent of the protection they have brought. Tsu’tey’s fingers twitch. It is not enough. You are so small and fragile, entirely unsuited for his world. Don’t you know that? Don’t you know how dangerous it is to be out here like this with so little to protect you?

You’re so preoccupied with the helicoradian you’re studying that you don’t seem to notice anything else around you. Your head is bowed, your eyes bright and shiny with interest as you inspect the orange pigment dusting the leaves.

The dappled light that filters through the trees casts shadowy patterns across your face in a way that is nearly mesmerising, and he ends up staring at you for a longer moment than he had originally intended. You are strange-looking and alien to him, and yet his fingers itch with the desire to touch you.

Tsu’tey leaps from the branch he had been watching you from, and lands neatly on the balls of his feet. His movements are nearly soundless, and none of the humans raise their heads. They don’t seem to sense his appearance at all.

His brow furrows in dissatisfaction. Anything could creep up on you, and you would not see it coming until it was too late.

He reaches out one leg and steps purposely on a twig. The snap is resounding, and the man with the gun whirls around and hoists the weapon higher, aiming at Tsu’tey’s chest.

He just bares his teeth in warning.

“No!” You yelp, throwing your hands up as soon as you realise what’s happening. “Don’t shoot him!”

Despite the situation, he’s sure that he looks quite smug. It feels good to experience you standing up for him, even if he doesn’t really need it – he could knock this puny little gun-toting tawtute into the dirt with a single backhand if he wished, though he refrains. He’s trying to be on his best behaviour.

“Fuck!” The little man yells, clearly spooked. “What does he want?”

That makes you falter, and you look up at him with uncertainty. It seems like you’re waiting for an explanation as well. All of the scientists are silent are apprehensive, eyeing him cautiously as they wait to see what he’s going to do. Their eyes linger around the knife strapped to his waist and the longbow strung over his shoulders.

Norm is looking at him with raised eyebrows, his ears perked up. Judging by his expression, Tsu’tey assumes that Norm has guessed exactly what he’s doing here.

“I wish to speak with you,” He tells you in Na’vi – he knows that some of the other scientists will be able to interpret his words, but it brings an illusion of privacy all the same.

You blink, but hesitate. When you don’t agree immediately, Tsu’tey feels his ears pin back. Your uncertainty is surely a bad sign for him – has he misjudged how upset you were?

He turns to the other humans and narrows his eyes at them. “Leave.”

They burst into motion satisfyingly quickly. The moron with the gun looks as though he is about to start arguing, but Norm hooks the long fingers of his demon body into the back of his collar and tugs him away. For once, the scientist is not being a nuisance.

You’re still standing there, turning to stare in apparent bewilderment at your comrades, who are practically fleeing. “What-”

“Come.” Tsu’tey says. Now that it’s just the two of you, he loses some of the edge in his voice.

When he turns away and begins to lead you into the forest, you follow after him without complaint. Out of the corner of his eye, Tsu’tey can see you twisting your hands nervously. Your clear anxiety has him frowning – he wants you to be comfortable with him, not on edge.

Once he’s determined that you’re both far enough away from the other humans that they could not hear you, he turns to you. You’re already looking at him, fingers twisting as you bite at your lip.

Calm and steady, Tsu’tey thinks to himself. Just apologise for ignoring her.

Apologising does not come easy to him, but he rolls his shoulder and takes a breath before opening his mouth.

“I’m sorry!” You blurt before he can make even a sound.

That throws him, and he ends up staring at you with his mouth ajar for a long moment like an absolute moron. Why are you apologising? This isn’t how this was supposed to go.

“I didn’t mean to get sick,” You continue, a little desperately, “I really did appreciate your hunting, it was very impressive and the meat was very nice, I swear I didn’t mean to come across as ungrateful-”

Oh no, are those tears he sees shining in your eyes?

Tsu’tey feels as though he’s been frozen in place. He knows that his face is stuck in a confused scowl, but he can’t soften his expression no matter how hard he tries. Panic starts to curdle in his stomach. He may be a seasoned warrior, fearless in the face of fearsome opponents, but he finds himself at a total loss in this situation.

You just keep going – his silence seems to be making you even more upset. “I never meant to offend you, and I’m so, so sorry if I have. I never meant to make you angry-”

Finally, Tsu’tey manages to find his voice. “I am not angry.”

Even he has to admit that he doesn’t sound particularly convincing, but he’s never been an eloquent person. How does he explain that he’s not angry at you, he’s frustrated with himself? Right now, with you staring up at him with your eyelashes all wet and clumped together as your lower lip trembles, he feels like kicking his own ass.

He needs to make his move now, he realises wildly. Be conciliatory, he thinks. Let her know you are interested.

His voice sticks in his throat, but he manages to push the words out. They come out slightly strangled, but semi-confident all the same.

“Would you like to come fishing?”

You hesitate, and Tsu’tey feels his heart seize in his chest – you’re not going to turn him down, are you?

“Would I-” You begin, face crumpling. “What?”

Despite all the similarities in your bodies and faces, Tsu’tey finds himself floundering when it comes to reading your expressions. Is that disappointment? Confusion? Anger? It’s so difficult to tell with your tiny blunt ears and lack of a tail.

“Fishing.” He repeats. His own tail lashes restlessly, the only part of his body that moves at all. “Come and watch me fish.”

It doesn’t come out quite as smoothly as he had planned in his head the night before, sounding a little more like an order than an invitation, but Tsu’tey thinks it’s a victory just to get the words out at all.

You look a little lost, but you nod all the same. Your tears are blinked away, your expression smoothing a little. Is Tsu’tey imagining it, or do you look hopeful?

“I- alright.” You swallow, and your hands reach up to tug at your hair in what appears to be a compulsive sort of movement. “Yes. Fishing. Right.”

Tsu’tey barely stifles his reaction. A success. He can’t stop his ears from pricking up, but otherwise he tries to appear neutral – he doesn’t want to scare you off.

“Come then.”

Just like before, you follow him readily through the jungle. He is careful to keep his back to you – it is a display of trust, to show off his conviction that you will do him no harm. It is mostly symbolic in your case, considering that you are unlikely to cause him any real harm even if you wanted to, but he is determined to carry out these courting rituals correctly even if the rest of this courtship is unconventional.

His ears are pricked the whole time for signs of danger or any other signs of life approaching, and to ensure that you are close behind as the two of you make your way towards the river winding towards the Omaticaya stronghold.

“You don’t have a fishing rod.” You say when you both finally reach the river.

Tsu’tey has no idea what you’re talking about, but it sounds as though you’re doubting his ability to fish.

He frowns, turning to squint at you – is this a challenge? Do you require him to prove his prowess right away? Displays of physical prowess and skill are part of the courting process, but he had thought that he had already done that with the hunt you had witnessed. But then again, the meat from the prey of that particular hunt had made you sick – perhaps you had decided not to count that hunt as an official courting display.

You stare back at him, looking perfectly innocent, if a little confused.

Fine. Tsu’tey straightens his back, and pulls his bow from his back. If it’s a display of prowess that you want, that’s what you’ll get.

In one smooth movement, he draws, nocks, and looses an arrow. It lands true, hitting home in the sleek, smooth body of a large fish that has just darted out from behind a stone lodged in the riverbank.

You let out a startled sort of sound, but lean forward quickly as Tsu’tey strides into the water and reaches for his catch. He had been planning on drawing this fishing display out a little longer, but it seems that you’re a demanding little thing. He doesn’t mind that; if anything, it will make satisfying you all the more exciting.

He retrieves his catch and holds it up for you to see. The fish is a large one, and it glints in the sweet sunshine that streams through the canopy of trees above you. It is a catch to be proud of, but he is careful not to be too pleased with himself until you react.

You laugh at the sight of the smooth glinting silver surface of his catch, clapping your hands together.

“Oh!” You call out, and you sound delighted. “Amazing! You make it look so easy!”

The praise sends a pleasant warmth effusing through his chest, and he feels a slow, hesitant grin begin to spread across his face.

“I am good at providing.” He tells you earnestly, stepping forward. He snaps off the long shaft of the arrow before proffering the fish towards you for your inspection.

You glance down, still smiling, but you don’t look particularly closely at his catch. That dulls some of his satisfaction – he glances down at the fish himself, wondering if there was something about it you found lacking.

“I know.” You murmur, tilting your head as you gaze up at him with lidded eyes. “You’re strong.”

His ears twitch like a child’s, and he nods, pleased. Hearing those words coming from the person he has chosen as a prospective mate fills him with a type of excitement that he has never experienced before. As a tawtute, you cannot connect with Eywa or with the People; but in this moment, Tsu’tey feels as though you see him anyway.

He swallows, and sets his catch aside in the pouch at his waist. He feels flustered in a way that is entirely unlike him, and he has to push his reactions down deep. He doesn’t want you to think of him as a silly little youngling – he wants you to see that he has taken this decision to court you seriously.

Time for the next step.

“We are close to an area where the Tsahìk gathers her herbs for medicine,” He says, clearing his throat as he turns to look at you with wide, earnest eyes. “I have offered to collect some for her. Would you like to help?”

Plants have always fascinated you – he knows that the original reason that you came to his planet was to study the wildlife and the flora. He waits, hoping that he’s right in thinking that this is something you will enjoy.

Your strange, sweet little face brightens. “Really?”

Tsu’tey nods, relieved by your reaction. “You would like this?”

“Yes!” You breathe. For the first time since he had approached you, you relax in earnest and Tsu’tey finds himself mirroring you.

He reaches out and cups your elbow as he helps you step over a log, and he doesn’t miss the little shiver and quick glance that you send towards his hand where it’s wrapped around your arm. It seems like you’re just as taken with the size difference between you as he is, and his lips begin to curl in excitement at the realisation.

This is good, He thinks, biting at the inside of his cheek. He is very slow to remove his hand, and you make no move to shake him off. Very good.

Tsu’tey does not want to speak too soon, but he feels as though his courting attempts are going very well indeed.

You had loved gathering the medicinal herbs with him, even more than he had hoped – you had badgered him with questions, curious about the names of the plants and their properties and their appearances, and you had bounded along at his side with a bright grin the whole time. It had pleased him greatly to experience your interest in the ways of the Omaticaya and the life of his planet; it was proof that you could be taught, that you were willing to learn.

And most thrillingly of all, you were receptive to his advances. Over the next couple of days, he continues with his cautious attempts at approaching you with little gestures.

When he gives you flowers and pretty leaves, you take them with brilliant, near-blinding smiles. Every time he shows off by flexing or practicing wrestling with the other warriors, you watch with interested eyes and tiny smiles. Whenever he tentatively touches you, small brushes to your shoulders or hands or waist, you never flinch away – on several occasions, you lean into him.

He tries not to let it go to his head, but it’s difficult. Since he’s started to admit his urges and his attraction to you, he swears it’s gotten worse. It feels like all he thinks about is you. He’s distracted during training, during his duties, during meals. He thinks about your reactions to his offerings, to your smiles, your scent, your voice. It really does feel like an illness, but it’s one he’s beginning to come to terms with if it means having you close by.

It’s beginning to get more difficult to keep his hands to himself. Traditionally, at this point in a courtship it would be acceptable for a courting pair to exchange flirtatious touches and other little intimacies, but Tsu’tey is aware that this is not exactly a conventional courtship.

He’s trying to be careful, to avoid spooking you or making you uncomfortable or uneasy, but it’s beginning to wear on him. Though he’s getting bolder with his little touches, it’s not enough to quench the skin-hunger growing in him.

But no matter. The courtship is going well, and moving at a good pace. The next step is one of the most important ones.

His carefully woven courtship necklace has been completed. It is customary to present a potential mate with a statement piece of jewelry, and Tsu’tey has spent several late nights fussing over the finishing touches. He recognises on some level that he’s stalling; it’s not in his nature to be nervous, but he’s beginning to grow nearly obsessive about getting the necklace as perfect as possible. It has been crafted to fit you exactly, with fibres and beads selected by him personally based on what he thinks you would like and what he thinks would suit your features.

The finished product is eye-catching, and Tsu’tey feels nearly delirious at the thought of it decorating your neck.

He crushes any semblance of nerves as best as he can, just like he might have done before a big hunt.

Of course you will accept his mating advances. Why wouldn't you? He is a strong warrior, a protector, desired by a great number of women. He could likely pick any woman he wanted out of the available women in the clan, and they would be honoured. Why would you be any different? You may be difficult to read at times, but he has laid his intentions out loud and clear and you have not shied away. You would accept him.

His mating necklace for you feels like it’s weighing him down as he steps through the village. It’s tucked safely into the pouch at his waist, though his hand keeps drifting to his hip to check that it’s still there. He’s not unaware of the looks he gets as he makes his way towards the edge of the encampment, but he ignores them. No doubt many of his people have guessed at what he’s up to, but he can’t give them his attention right now; he’s too focused on you, now that he spots you sitting next to one of the large pxiut trees.

Your head is bowed over your silly little notebook, lost entirely in your own world. Tsu’tey’s steps slow as he approaches you, taking the opportunity to drink in the sight of you while you’re unaware of his gaze.

His eyes track over the curves of your strange features, the slope of your alien nose, the arch of your neck. Your features may be exotic, but he’s finally beginning to admit to himself what he’s been trying to deny for a while now – you’re attractive to him.

He likes your weird little face, your odd five-fingered hands, your thick silly accent when you speak his language. He likes that you are so much smaller than him, he likes that you are soft.

He appreciates that you are patient with him, too. He knows he can be gruff and surly, and most people find him off-putting or intimidating, especially when they don’t know him. But you – you’re so calm and sweet, and you never seem to care when he’s stoically silent beside you. Most of the time when he’s around you, most of his brain-power goes into trying to keep his hands to himself, and he doesn’t have much intellectual power left to attempt conversation. He’s content with simply listening to you about whatever it is you wish to talk about, occasionally chiming in to ask a question or just to hum gently to show you he’s listening.

As he watches, you shift where you’re sitting and reach up to scratch absently at your neck. Beneath your odd human garments, your skin is glowing lightly with a thin sheen of sweat. Tsu’tey finds his eyes tracking over your exposed skin like a moron, and he clenches his jaw as he pulls himself together.

You're a warrior, you're a warrior, you’re a warrior, he chants in his head. He would not be cowed or intimidated by a tiny human.

You raise your head as he approaches, and a smile unfolds across your face. Your expression is bright, full of pure innocent happiness just to see him. He wavers, and nearly turns right back around.

“Hey, big guy.” You call out, setting your notebook aside as you beam at him.

You’re waiting for him to join you, he realises. He jolts forward, his previously confident stride turning a little jerky under your sharp eyes.

“Hello, little demon.” He murmurs, keeping his voice low and level.

You bite at your lip, still watching him with that little smile on your face. He watches you back just as closely, even as he sinks down to sit next with you. Your smile melts into a little look of surprise; usually, when he comes to you it’s so he can invite you somewhere else, either to show you something or to give you something. Joining you as you just sit is new for both of you.

For a moment, you’re both quiet. It seems like you’re waiting on him to speak, but he stays silent. He’s trying to compose himself, to appear cool and calm as he reaches his hand towards the woven bag slung around his waist.

Finally, he says, “I have something for you.”

It comes out impressively calm and level. While he’s not a man prone to nerves or to doubting himself, this is entirely new territory for him. When your expression brightens into a look of excitement, he feels a new little seed of confidence build in his chest. You’re anticipating his gift, you want it.

When he slips his hand into his bag, you sit up onto your knees so that you can watch him. Over the last few weeks, you’ve gotten used to receiving little flowers, plants, beads, or little carved figures. You accept each one with your usual brilliant, sweet smile; the thought of how you may smile at him when he gives you the necklace makes Tsu’tey’s tail flick eagerly.

He pulls it carefully out and hands it to you. As you take it your fingers brush his, and he twitches slightly as he stares at how small your hands are next to his.

“Oh,” You breathe, lifting up the necklace to eye level so you can get a good look at it. “I… Really? For me?”

“Yes.” He says simply, his eyes sharp and alert as they drink in every minute flicker that crosses your face. What are you thinking?

“It…” You begin, and then pause. Tsu’tey is just beginning to feel like crawling out of his skin when you slowly continue. “Tsu’tey, it’s beautiful.”

You so rarely say his name, choosing instead to call him variations of big guy, and he feels a near physical jolt run down his spine at the sound of it in your mouth. He wants to hear you say it again.

He just hums, still watching your face. You are examining the necklace intently, fingering the beads and the weavework, and he feels his pride inflate the longer you inspect his work. You are giving real, earnest thought to his offering rather than simply making your decision rashly. He respects this, and revels under the careful consideration you’re giving his proposal.

“You like it?” He murmurs. His voice comes out rougher than he had intended, and you jerk your head up to look at him.

Like this, your faces are very close together. Tsu’tey had leaned closer unconsciously as you were examining the necklace, and he makes no attempt to back off. Likewise, you make no attempt to retreat either, blinking up at him from behind the odd clear surface of your bubble-like mask.

“Yes,” You whisper, a shy, cautious smile beginning to bloom across your face. “Did you make this yourself?”

Tsu’tey just huffs. What sort of fool wouldn’t make their mating offering themselves?

“Of course.”

“Oh.” You bite at your lip. You seem to be trying to suppress your smile, though he can’t imagine why. He wants to see it, now more than ever.

You are certainly not racing to give him an answer. Your fingers trace over the beads, taking your time to admire the craftsmanship. Your obvious appreciation is certainly inflating his ego, but the longer you go without giving him a firm answer, the more agitated he gets. He hides it as best as he can, aiming to appear cool and unflappable. He is a warrior – he doesn’t want you to think of him as someone who is easily ruffled.

When you finally turn to look up at him, your eyes are shining. He can’t help but sit up a little straighter, watching you very carefully as he awaits your decision.

You proffer the necklace back to him, and Tsu’tey feels his stomach positively plummet. He truly hadn’t considered what he would do if you refused him.

“Will you help me put it on?” You ask, a little shyly.

The relief nearly bowls him over. Tsu’tey swears his stomach jolts so violently that he nearly makes a truly undignified sound. You are not refusing him – you wish for assistance.

“Yes.” He says lowly and seriously, taking the necklace back.

You beam again, then turn your back to him and bow your head to give him access to your neck. Tsu’tey’s heart thumps dully in his chest at the display of trust and vulnerability, though he keeps his face carefully still.

As he reaches out and slips the necklace around your neck, he gives in to his weakness and allows his fingers to drift over your shoulder. Your skin is so soft, your frame lacking the lean hard musculature that is so common among his own people, and he allows himself a moment to admire the feeling of you beneath his hands before finally beginning to tie the two ends of the necklace together.

He can feel you breathing carefully beneath his hands, the steady rise and fall of your chest matching the thumping rhythm of his own heart. The blood is rushing through his ears as his knuckles brush over one of the knobs of your spine at the base of your neck and you shiver in response.

Success, his instincts are screaming at him. Success.

When he finally pulls his hands back, you turn to look at him through your eyelashes behind your breathing mask. The corner of his mouth twitches as he eyes the way the necklace sits above your collarbones; a perfect fit.

It probably goes without saying that you have accepted his advances, but the customs of the Sky People are odd and he wants to make certain.

“You accept, then?” He asks, reaching out and settling his fingers over the woven fibres of the necklace. You’re small under his hand – his fingers reach one of your shoulders and his palm reaches the other, dwarfing you.

Your head tilts, a little frown creasing your brow, before you smile and nod. “Of course I accept it. It’s very lovely. I’m honoured. I didn’t know that you made your own jewelry.”

The last piece of mating jewelry he had crafted had been a bracelet for Sylwanin. It’s not something that he wants to think about right now, so he shrugs roughly.

“I do not, usually. This is different.”

“Oh.” You say, a little breathlessly.

Tsu’tey’s tail twitches recklessly. It’s time for the next step.

“I would take you to my hut.” He begins cautiously, watching your face. “It is finished now. I have made it comfortable.”

You blink, and take a careful breath. He wonders what you’re thinking.

“I would like that.” You say quietly, your eyes drifting towards his tail, which is twitching as he awaits your answer.

Triumph soars in his chest, and a slow smile begins to spread over his face. This feels better than any hunt, any accolade, any success he has previously enjoyed. This one is his and his alone – you see him, you want to be his just as he wants to be yours.

You appear to get flustered, and look down at his twitching tail in an apparent effort to distract yourself. You watch the movement, your own lips beginning to curve, before you reach out to touch it.

Tsu’tey goes entirely still, his eyes flaring wider in surprise. He doesn’t pull away, watching intently as your fingers trail over the thin, sensitive skin of his tail. It is bold of you, so bold it nearly steals his breath away.

“You’re like a cat.” You say, and laugh.

Tsu’tey has no idea what that means, and just continues to stare at you. You’re still holding his tail in your warm, soft hand. The fact that he isn’t pulling away seems to embolden you even more, before you start to bite your lip as you look up at him.

Tsu’tey takes a soft, quiet breath – do you even know what you’re doing to him right now? Desire is beginning to pool, dark and hot, in his belly as your fingers stroke absently over the thin skin of his tail, your liquid eyes gazing up at him with that shy, enigmatic little smile playing over your face.

Slow and steady, he tells himself firmly, fighting to stay composed. He doesn’t want to scare you away by moving too quickly, but your soft warm hands and sweet little smiles are making it terribly difficult. He wants to touch you back, but he doesn’t want to startle you.

“Sorry,” You murmur, apparently growing self-conscious. You begin to pull back. “I didn’t mean to-”

“You may touch me.” He interrupts before you pull too far back. He has been intimate with women before, but this moment with you feels infinitely more intimate and illicit than anything he has experienced before.

You watch him in return, eyes bright. Is he imagining the excitement on your face, mirroring his own feelings?

Slowly, you trace up his tail. His skin shivers under your touch, but he doesn’t pull away. In fact, he leans in a little closer as your fingers move from his tail to his chest, tracing over the lighter stripes on his skin. It feels as though your touch is leaving trails of heat in its wake, and he fights to keep his breathing steady and even as your eyes follow the path of your fingers.

His own fingers twitch, but he keeps his hands to himself. He wants to give this to you, to allow you the opportunity to be in charge of this moment. You’ve always been curious, and watching you exploring his own body only stokes his desire – but he holds back. He will be patient, and he will take this slow. He wants to do this whole thing right.

Your fingers trail down over the defined muscles of his abdomen, and he flexes entirely on instinct. You must like what you see, because your smile turns bashful as you trace your way around his waist.

He’s so preoccupied with watching your face that he doesn’t watch where your hands go next. It means that he is taken entirely by surprise when he feels your delicate, small fingers wrap around his kuru.

His back goes ramrod straight, his eyes flaring wide in shock. It was an innocent touch, only wrapping around the protective braid curiously, but the sheer fact that his prospective mate, wearing the mating gift he had made, holds the most intimate and sacred part of him in their hands has his toes curling into the dirt where you sit.

A jolt of pure, liquid elation jolts down his spine. No partner of his has ever touched his kuru – it was saved specifically for a mate. And though you may not be capable of making tsaheylu with him, the sheer sensation of you holding this sacred part of him nearly makes his vision white out.

“Oh!” He hears your voice say as though from a distance. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to overstep-!”

He’s sure his pupils are blown wide, his ears alert and hot. He wants to reassure you that your overstep is most welcome, but it feels as though his brain has half-melted.

“Tsu’tey?”

He comes back to himself, though his thoughts are still scattered. As he regains some of his awareness, he realises that his desire is beginning to grow obvious beneath his loincloth.

Fuck. He was meant to be taking it slow! He couldn’t invite you to his hut and then grow so visibly aroused in front of you; it was not honourable, and he did not want you to feel pressured.

He lurches backwards, nearly sprawling in the dirt. It’s a graceless movement, ungainly and unlike him, but then again all of this is entirely outside of his realm of experience.

You’re staring at him with wide eyes and an open mouth, your hand still raised in midair.

“I have to go.” He says sharply, pushing himself to his feet. It’s all he can think to do to preserve both of your dignities before he ruins his careful courtship plans with his own reckless desires.

“But-” You start, your face crumpling. “Am I still invited-”

“I must go,” He repeats, hastily angling himself so that you can’t see his front.

He takes several firm steps away before hesitating, then turns back to look at you. “Tomorrow. You may come back tomorrow.”

You still look utterly bewildered, but Tsu’tey hurries away all the same. As he goes, he adjusts his tewng as surreptitiously as possible.

Despite his tactical retreat, he feels more optimistic than he has in a long time. As he approaches the village he feels a feral triumphant grin begin to grow over his face. That likely could have gone smoother at the end, but overall he finds himself feeling impossibly pleased with himself.

He has succeeded at his attempt at courting a human, and he has done so without Jakesully’s help. You have accepted all his gifts, you agreed to come and see his hut, and judging by the way you had groped at his tail and his kuru, physical attraction certainly wouldn’t be a problem for either of you.

It has left him excited for tomorrow, and yearning for more of your soft little hands against his skin.

#tsu'tey x reader #tsu'tey imagines #tsu'tey #avatar 2 #avatar x reader #avatar way of water #na'vi x reader #na'vi x human #alien x human #avatar 2009 #terato

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ohmyeyesmyeyes · 1 year

Text

everyone's a ferrari fan

fc: eileen gu

charles leclerc x professional skier - social media au

warnings: swearing

liked by redbullracing, lauraharrier and 672,976 others

ynofficial: completed sponsor duties and broke three hearts in the process 💔💔💔 i apologise to those affected

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fan1: danny? scotty? WHO IS THE THIRD????

chloestroll: me

scottyjames31: don't throw off the trail i want to see where this goes

fan2: the full circle has been complete

fan3: chloe🤝yn🤝scotty🤝danny

fan4: my multiverse of madness

danielricciardo: traitor

scottyjames31: she most certainly is

ynofficial: 🕵️

liked by lance_stroll, jginorton and 621,972 others

ynofficial: scottyjames31, danielricciardo this you??

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danielricciardo: well...you caught me there

scottyjames31: oops

fan5: babe who was the third person you were on about?????

fan6: honestly i'm here for the mclaren slander

liked by ynofficial

landonorris: erm excuse me??

ynofficial: you're excused

charles_leclerc: but who do you actually support?

danielricciardo: i actually would like to know this 👀

chloestroll: me too 👀

pierregasly: me three 👀

liked by charles_leclerc, shaunwhite and 72,859 others

scottyjames31: holy fuck us snow siblings had a great weekend

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fan8: what did you do for her to lowkey look that annoyed?

danielricciardo: wdym that’s her normal face

ynofficial: 🖕🏻

scottyjames31: i told her to imagine a certain someone naked

chloestroll: i apologise ynofficial

scottyjames31: she told me she didn’t have to imagine it

danielricciardo: 😧😧

chloestroll: never mind then

fan9: WHO WHAT WHEN JAYYDHW

fan10: IS THIS CONFIRMATION

ynofficial: guess so

ynofficial: BUT CONGRATULATIONS SNOW BRO!!!

scottyjames31: CONGRATS SNOW SISTER!!!

charles_leclerc: you guys killed it!

liked by ynofficial and scottyjames31

liked by danielricciardo, ynofficial and 87,815 others

scottyjames31: i see you, ynofficial, and i embrace it. you do not intimidate me.

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danielricciardo: probably my favourite delivery that i've ever done

ynofficial: but what about the goat?

danielricciardo: ok i take it back

fan11: GUYS WHAT GOAT

chloestroll: trust me, you don't want to know

fan12: ok but the snow siblings' sense of humour>>>

scottyjames31: it's genetic.

ynofficial: and i'm the funniest

danielricciardo: i agree with ynofficial

scottyjames31: you'll find the divorce papers in the mail shortly

ynofficial: NO YOU CAN'T TAKE MY BROTHER IN LAW FROM ME

lance_stroll: um

ynofficial: not you honey 💚

fan: i'm confused at this family dynamic

liked by ynofficial, pierregasly and 528,916 others

charles_leclerc: late dump from austria ⛷️⛷️

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fan13: late dump?? austria?? you mean where y/n and scotty just competed??

fan14: holy shit i think he does

pierregasly: what do you have a personal photographer now?

charles_leclerc: stop stirring the pot mate 😂😂

fan15: pierre like this comment if charles is hiding something

liked by pierregasly

fan15: you should all know that he liked my comment

tiktok posted by scottyjames31...

comments:

danielricciardo: you forgot to tag ynofficial technically she now has her own source of information...

fan15: DANIEL WHAT

scottyjames31: that's supposed to be a secret 🤫🤫

liked by fan16, pierregasly and 2,285 others

f1tea: charles leclerc spotted this weekend with mystery girl! identity is unknown - feel free to comment any ideas

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fan17: PIERRE??? WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE???

fan18: keeping tabs on his bestie

pierregasly: keeping tabs on my bestie indeed

fan19: she kind of looks familiar like i think i ran into her on the grid a few races ago

fan20: am i the only one who thinks that could be scotty and danny's friend?

fan21: BABE 'SCOTTY AND DANNY'S FRIEND' IS MISS Y/N L/N GIVE HER SOME RESPECT

liked by carlossainz55, charles_leclerc and 761,961 others

ynofficial: everyone's a ferrari fan

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fan22: this choice of pictures is unusual like i can't explain it

fan23: babe all this information coming from different sources rn is giving me whiplash are you or are you not dating charles leclerc?????

scottyjames31: see that's just not true

ynofficial: even if they say they're not, they are ferrari fans

scottyjames31: please don't my loyalty is already being pulled in two ways

fan24: not y/n posting both charles and carlos to try and throw us off her scent

fan25: okay there's no way she's not dating charles - scotty's tiktok and then the pap photos??????

liked by pierregasly, chloestroll and 971,925 others

ynofficial: why do people keep asking if i'm dating charles leclerc?

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scottyjames31: sheesh idk i'm scratching my chin trying to come up with something here

danielricciardo: BOMBASTIC SIDE EYE

pierregasly: fun yacht trip?

charles_leclerc: who even is charles leclerc?

fan26: nah you're playing now that's cruel

fan27: THE BACK THE BOAT THE HAND KJBSCVE

liked by ynofficial, scottyjames31 and 751,962 others

charles_leclerc: it's me guys. she broke my heart the day she spent with red bull 💔💔 but we're healing and moving on from that bump in the road. side note: my do i love this woman

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pierregasly: ynofficial give me back my boyfriend

ynofficial: but you already have him on weekends!!!!!!

landonorris: i'm sorry i must have missed something here

danielricciardo: keep up

redbullracing: we lost another trouper to the tifosi 😭

fan28: please they're so fucking hot idk who to look at

fan29: fr i'm torn

fan30: mother and father 🧎🧎

fan31: i'm worried, scotty's being quiet

scottyjames31: i hope you can fight, leclerk

charles_leclerc: i'm under strict instructions not to fall for your bait, lames

danielricciardo: everyone needs to know that the post y/n put on where me and scotty were sat on a porch wearing cowboy gear, y/n had just told us she'd been dating charles for 7 months, and that was 3 months ago

ynofficial: scotty's a little salty rn

scottyjames31: *protective

scottyjames31: actually you deserve each other, you're both unnecessarily dramatic

ynofficial: chloestroll

chloestroll: please scottyjames31 you need to look in the mirror

liked by chloestroll, scottyjames31 and 981,185 others

ynofficial: BUT I LOVE THAT MAN LIKE NOBODY CAN

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scottyjames31: you don't understand my ears were bleeding from how many times you played don't delete the kisses by wolf alice before you met this gorgeous thang

fan31: what does she listen to now?

scottyjames31: taylor swift mostly

fan32: nobody understand me i'm breaking down rn

fan33: y/n in her fan era

fan34: these are quite possibly the most SCRUMDILLYICIOUS pictures of this man that i have EVER seen and i love it so much

pierregasly: charles has entered his wag era

charles_leclerc: and i'm never gonna leave 💪

charles_leclerc: it's a lifestyle, brian

danielricciardo: OH THEY GROW UP SO FAST

fan35: i've lost track of this group of people now

fan36: lance stroll🤝chloe stroll🤝scotty james🤝y/n l/n🤝charles leclerc🤝daniel ricciardo🤝scotty james

#charles leclerc x reader #f1 social media au #charles leclerc social media au

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carboysandbikemen · 1 year

Note

Fernando being your dad’s best friend or something and someday he can’t help but give in to your teasing even though there’s a bit of an age gap and it feels wrong… but he finally decides to fuck you, calling you his good girl🫣 Very unhinged I’m so sorry x

Never apologise, this is the unhinged content I crave!!! -🐝

Also TY for all of the recent Fernando asks!! Glad to see people are just as unhinged about that insane little man as us. Will be writing more Nando content in due course!

Good Luck Charm

Warnings and tags: 18+ obvs, age gap, daddy kink, praise, unprotected sex, Fernando was made to eat pussy fight me, disclaimer I don't speak Spanish and had to use google 😬

Word count: 3,142

The security guard checks your pass, looking you up and down slightly but pasting on a smile and waving you through. To be fair to him you do have an unprecedented level of access for someone who is rocking up to the paddock alone.

Going along to GP's isn't exactly new to you, after all you've been coming to them ever since you were little, and more recently with your dad to support his friend Fernando.

Weaving through the paddock to find Fernando feels like second nature, only having to ask two of the Alpine crew you vaguely recognise where he is before finding him.

Honestly? You've been shamelessly flirting with him whenever your dad wasn't in earshot for a couple of years now. Partly because well, it's Fernando, he's ridiculously hot, but also because it's become almost a game of how far can you push him before he snaps. This time though, this time you're determined to cross that line. It's all or nothing.

"Hi." You announce yourself, peaking from behind the door where Fernando is sat with one headphone in his ear, the other dangling at his chest.

When he looks up at you, the frown on his face quickly turns into a smile and he pulls the other earphone out, standing to greet you.

You meet him halfway, pushing yourself into his open arms to hug him, pressing your body against his as you go up onto your tip toes just so you can fall back down again, sliding yourself against his toned chest.

When you pull apart he raises his eyebrow at you questioningly, but you brush it off, smiling with faux innocence.

He looks over your shoulder, as if checking that it's just you before asking, "Your father?"

"Oh he couldn't make it, I thought he told you it was just me this weekend?"

You're pretty sure you told your dad to tell him that you and a few of your friends were planning to go. All part of the plan to tease Fernando a bit more without anyone to interrupt you.

"Ahhh yes, I remember, you are meant to be bringing friends no?"

"Oops, I forgot to ask them." You say, biting your lip and looking up at him cheekily.

He gives you a knowing look and you raise your eyebrows as a challenge. Instead of chastising you, or falling for the bait he shakes his head.

"No matter. I'm sure you will make friends." He smiles at you like he's in on the game and he's here to play. "I could introduce you to Esteban again."

You can’t help the way your nose scrunches up at the thought and Fernando laughs at you, deep and open and you want to grab his stupid face and run your hands through his hair but you pull yourself back to the present.

"Are you ready for quali?" You walk around his room, feeling his eyes on you without looking at him, touching his desk, running your fingers over it before picking up his Kimoa cap.

"Always."

He's waiting for you to make the first move, he's almost daring you to, stood there with his arms crossed.

"Hmm. Maybe you need a good luck charm?"

You put the cap on your head.

"And what do you have in mind hmm?"

"I can think of a few things." You say, biting your lip and looking up at him, trying to get across an innocent suggestiveness that you think might just be working, as he steps closer to you.

"Why did you come here alone?"

"I think you know why." You lean in closer to him.

He doesn't move.

"Cariño, you are making this difficult." He's almost gritting his teeth.

"It doesn't have to be."

"Dios me ayude," Fernando sighs under his breath, and you don't know what he's saying but you can guess you're about to finally FINALLY get what you want. "You know we can't."

He doesn't sound sure though. He doesn't sound sure at all, so you close the space between you.

"Fernando." You breathe out. He slips his hand up to your face and you think he's going to touch you but he just grabs his cap back, flinging it across to the desk again.

You huff out a frustrated noise and he smirks down at you.

"Yes?"

"Please." You're so close you can smell his aftershave and you decide that it doesn't matter anymore, this game, all you need is for him to fuck you. Desperately.

"Please what, little one?"

He slips his hand under your chin, tilting your head up so you're forced to look into his eyes. With his thumb, he traces your bottom lip.

"Tell me what you want." He prompts again.

"Please fuck me." You whisper, and he smirks down at you, slipping his thumb inside your warm wet mouth.

Obliging, you wrap your lips around it, rolling your tongue over the pad. He lets you do this a few times, before drawing his thumb back, pulling at your lower lip. He looks at you for a second, before leaning in and gently pressing his lips to yours.

You practically sigh into the kiss, feeling him move one of his hands up to the back of your head and the other down to grip at your waist, pulling you into him.

Gently, he bites at your lip, slipping his tongue over the cusp of your lip before drawing back. You try to follow him but he moves his other hand down to grip the other side of your waist.

"We should stop this."

"No!" You practically shout, pressing yourself against him, watching as his face lights up with a grin and his grip tighten. You should have known that as soon as you got him to give in, then the game would be flipped. He has you right where he wants you. Although, it very much still feels like you're winning.

"This worked up already? Cariño, look at you, just a kiss and my hands on you and you're already desperate. Maybe you cannot take it." He sighs dramatically, thumbing his hand under your shirt and running his fingers along the bare skin of your hips.

"No I can, I can take it." You assure him. Then, to prove your point, you quickly throw off your top and bra, leaving you standing topless in front of him, his hands still toying with the skin above the waistband of your trousers.

He huffs out a small laugh at your antics, which you only find mildly insulting, and runs his hands over your stomach and up your chest, thumbing your nipples briefly making you squirm.

"What did I say hmm? Desperate." He brushes them again and you let out a small gasp. "Look at you."

"Please. Just... fuck me." You say again.

"Patience." He pinches one of your nipples and you have to squeeze your thighs together. "Go lock the door. Take your trousers off, and come sit." He gestures to the sofa and you feel the heat rising on your face as you comply, quickly locking the door and shuffling out of your trousers.

As you go to take off your underwear he stops you.

"Leave them on."

He guides you until you're sitting down on the sofa, legs spread as he kneels in front of you. Slowly, he runs his hands up you thighs, the touch light and teasing until he reaches the seam of your underwear.

"Did you tease me on purpose?"

"What?" You're struggling to think about anything except his hands on you, so so close to where you want.

"Every time you visited, or I came over and you bent over in front of me or touched my arm or said suggestive things. Was it all on purpose?"

"Yeah." You breathe out, and he grips your inner thigh a little harder. "It was."

"Okay." It's said so flippantly but you can’t help but think that something’s coming, some sort of reprimand or punishment for your behaviour but right now all you want is his fingers on you.

"Okay, I want you to come at least twice before I'll think about fucking you. You can be a good girl, no? I think thats fair."

He moves in before you have a chance to reply and nips at the skin of your thigh with his teeth making you gasp. He makes his way up the inside of your thigh, his beard scratching against your sensitive skin and you can't help but squirm, pushing your hips up to try and get more contact. In response, he just presses his hands down on your hips, steadying you.

When he gets between your legs he stops.

"Fernando." You whine at him. "Come onnnn."

He huffs out a laugh at your antics, moving his hand down to brush lightly over the fabric of your underwear, causing your whine to become a gasp.

Pressing a little harder, he watches as the fabric dampens underneath his touch, smiling as you moan for him. Still holding you down with one hand, he starts to play with you, running his fingers over the dampening fabric, dragging it against your clit as he presses down.

"Look at how wet you are for me. Such a good girl." He pushes the fabric into you slightly, the rough feeling making you moan this time, a choked needy little noise.

"Can I..." You start but you get cut off by a circle of your clit.

"Hmm?" He says innocently, as if he isn't playing with your covered pussy like you're a little toy to amuse him.

"Can I take them off?"

"No."

He continues as you huff out a frustrated whine, needing his fingers inside you desperately.

"They're staying on until you come in them. I want to see you ruin them."

With that he doubles down, leaning in to mouth at your pussy over the fabric, the warmth and drag of the fabric nearly making you scream out. You can feel it building up, your legs tensing slightly as he holds you there so he can have his fun.

"Please..." You ask, desperately needing just a bit more pressure.

"Please what?"

"Please daddy." You respond. It slips out of you with ease, seeming almost natural and it takes you a second to notice he's raised his eyebrows at you, clearly not expecting that from you.

You feel your face flush and start to turn red as you mumble out a 'sorry'.

"No, I like it." Is all that Fernando says, gaze darkening. "Be a good girl and come for me then."

With that he sucks at your clit over the fabric and presses them into you a little as you finally feel yourself come, wrapping your legs around his head as he rides it out with you.

"Thats my good girl." He grins at you. "Ruining your pretty underwear for me."

He peels them off and you lift your hips for him so he can pull them down.

He looks at them thoughtfully, then up at your mouth, before shaking his head and throwing them aside, almost as if he was contemplating gagging you with them.

The thought makes you almost ready to go again.

"Look at you spread out and dripping for me."

He spreads your legs with his hands and runs his thumb over your dripping pussy, but avoiding your oversensitive clit.

"I need you to fuck me." You huff out.

"Ahh but you have to come again before that, no? Or did you forget."

You groan at his smirking face, throwing your head back. It doesn't last long though, as Fernando slips two fingers straight inside of you, hooking them upwards as you clench around him and let out a high pitched little noise at the feeling.

Without warning he puts his mouth directly on your clit, rolling his tongue over it as he keeps his fingers still, feeling you tighten around him as you moan and whine.

You can't help but thread your hands through his hair, pulling on him tightly as you press his head into you.

It's almost too much, you're too sensitive.

"The noises you make." He says in wonder, pulling away to look up at you. "I bet boys your age don't know what to do with you, no? You need me to fuck you properly?"

You can feel tears forming in the corners of your eyes. He's right, no one has ever been like this. Sure, you've had sex before but no one has ever played with you like this, with such focus and skill to make you come so fast. No one has ever made you come multiple times.

His fingers are still in you, slowly fucking in and out of you now, and you can't help but wonder what it will feel like when he finally fucks you properly.

"Ye... yes." You manage to choke out, losing your grip on the ability to talk, your mind solely focused on the drag of his fingers in you and the pressure of his thumb against your clit.

"You're dripping onto the sofa Cariño, look at the mess you make." He punctuates it with a particularly fast thrust of his fingers, making you tighten and whine at him.

He speeds up, watching his fingers disappear into your wet little pussy for a moment before nipping at your thigh slightly and then running his tongue over you, up around his fingers and pressing against your clit.

You thrust your hips up and he lets you move against him, his fingers fucking into you fast and hard as you grind yourself against his face. You don't give him any warning this time, the feeling building suddenly. You tighten your thighs around him as well as the grip in his hair as you come again around his fingers.

"Fuck." You sigh as you come down, his fingers still toying with you gently before pulling out and wiping your own wetness on your thigh, the sight making you scrunch up your nose.

"So good for me." Fernando mumbles and you feel yourself blush at his words. "Do you think you can take me now?"

"Yeah, I can daddy."

"Good girl."

Before you can even begin to recover, Fernando has stripped out of his clothes and moves you until you're straddling him, his hard cock resting between you.

You get the idea, raising yourself up so you’re positioned over him and he pulls you in for a kiss as he guides his cock along the wetness of your pussy.

Slowly, you lower yourself down, feeling him stretch you out as you gasp into his mouth. He lets you take your time, biting at your lower lip as he also groans at the feeling of your hot wet cunt.

Grabbing your hips, he experimentally pushes you down a little and you whine, looking him in the eyes as he raises his eyebrow at you in a silent question.

You think you know exactly what he's asking so you nod your permission. He smiles, but more gently this time, grabbing your hips tighter and pushing you down faster than you'd been moving.

It feels so full when you finally take all of him inside of you, letting yourself adjust to the sensation as you sigh into his neck, running your teeth gently over the skin and mouthing gentle bites.

He palms at your ass, moving you in small rocking motions against him until you feel like you can move again, slowly picking up speed until you're practically bouncing on his cock, watching him close his eyes and groan at the feeling.

It gives you a little more confidence as you speed up, placing a hand on his chest to steady yourself.

One of his hands moves to thumb at your clit and you momentarily stutter in your pace, clenching around him as he tightens his grip on your hip in response.

It's almost too much, you're too sensitive from before and the feeling of him filling you up is like nothing you've ever experienced. You can feel your legs starting to shake and will yourself not to stop.

Fernando must notice though, as without any warning he picks you up, cock still buried deep inside of you, and lays you flat on the sofa, moving your legs so that they're resting on his shoulders, practically bending you in half for him.

"You're so tight mi amor."

You can’t even form the words to reply, too focused on the feeling of him fucking into you, controlling the pace as he slips a hand down to brush over your nipples, pinching them slightly before moving down to play with your clit.

It's so overwhelming that you can’t help the tears pooling at the corners of your eyes. Fernando is saying something, maybe in Spanish, maybe he's calling you his good girl again, you're not quite sure, all you know is that every time he circles your clit and thrusts into you you're dangerously close to losing it again.

You don't want it to end yet, it's Fernando, you've wanted this for ages and now you finally have it and you don't want to give him up.

It's no use though, he thrusts into you a little deeper and thumbs at you a little harder and you're gone, crying out his name as you come around his cock. The way you clench down around him sets him off as well, and before you know it you can feel him coming inside of you, filling up your pussy so much that when he pulls out you can feel it start to drip out of you.

He gently sits back down laying your legs out gently over him as he rests a hand on your inner thigh and runs his fingers over you gently.

"You were so good for me y/n. Look at you laid there, perfect for me." He slips his hand between your legs and gently gathers some of the come dripping out of you and fucks it into you a little bit making you squirm.

"Fernando." You breath out. "I cannot come again. I just can't."

He huffs out a laugh.

"Sorry, sorry." He mumbles, fucking his fingers in again, just the tip but enough to make you gasp. "I just cant help it. You look so pretty filled up for me."

"I can't believe we just did that." You say it mostly to yourself, but Fernando laughs again, this time a little more incredulously.

"If I get pole after this, if you're my good luck charm, we might have to do it every weekend."

You know it’s a joke but still, you can't help but fantasise about being his little good luck charm all the way up to a third world championship.

#fernando alonso smut #fernando alonso imagine #alonso smut #alonso imagine #f1 imagine #f1 smut #fernando alonso x reader #fernando alonso #x reader

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mngo-jii · 10 months

Note

Im thinking Daniel and sick reader...(im sick right now. if u can't tell 🤕)

“HOGWARTS ISN'T IMMUNE TO COMMON COLD.”

synopsis: daniel attempts to wake you up from a seemingly deep slumber, only to discover you're sick.

tags/warnings: mutual pining. in a seperate ask, anon cleared up that they wanted a female reader! additional warning: this sucks

wc: 2.1k (oops)

✉️: i hope you get well soon, anon! on another note, i didn't mean to make this so long uh 🧍🏻‍♀️

Daniel walks you to class every morning.

It's a tradition now—an unspoken one for sure. Given that you two share a house and are "well-acquainted" (according to him).

Though the boy had always insisted he'd prefer brewing potions to making friends, he has quite the number of them, much to his surprise.

That surprise was planted by you, and what it had sprouted into made you two considerably close. So, beyond the shadow of a doubt, you two definitely aren't only "well-acquainted." Hell, definitely not just friends, either—from what the others could see.

Needless to say, they notice the faint blush coating your cheeks when you two are alone (you two definitely aren't alone if they had known that).

Or the awkward glances you two exchange at the dance practice. ...Not to mention the constant fumbling of your hands when you two are the ones conversing at a group discussion. They have eyes, you know.

Indeed, you two are close. Up to the point it had made your friends raise an eyebrow at you every so often. And that had Robyn raising an eyebrow at him right now.

"Daniel? Where're you going? Class is this way, stupid."

He gives her a look before making his way down the Grand Staircase, "I forgot to get [Y/N]." Robyn leans onto the railing, watching him sink into the lower level of the tower. "I'll see you at class," he says loudly, enough for her to hear.

"Oh?" Robyn grins, "Looking for your girlfriend, I see!" She yells from above, causing the heads of passersby to turn. Daniel flinches and looks up at her like she's crazy. He wishes he was up there right now to flipendo her, but she had already ran off with a hasty See you, then!

A few onlookers still have eyes on him. He feels as though he's shrinking under their gaze.

"...'Bit young for you to be courting a lady, don't you think, boy?" One inquisitive painting utters to him, and he pretends not to hear beyond his loud groan.

The unfortunate boy couldn't control the thudding of his chest as he entered your house tower, and was unable to keep his calm long enough to escape his fellow housemates' worried stares. At some point, he was forced to reassure them that he was fine and merely somewhat agitated by "something."

Courtship? He doesn't plan on marrying you... Much less date you! What absurdity was the portrait blabbing about? Blasphemy, he mumbled.

He's out of his trance when he recognises a roommate of yours scurry by. "Hey—"

The girl casts a doubtful glance across before halting when she realises he called to her.

"Where's [Y/N]?"

"Asleep," She answers, "I tried getting her up but she kept insisting on sleeping. '5 more minutes' turned into half an hour, I was starting to risk getting late."

Daniel ponders for a moment before turning his heel to depart, quickening his step.

By the time he has gotten to the Girl's Dormitory, he steps on his own brakes, cautiously checking if anyone else is there.

He's well aware that you and him are late to class by now; everyone has already left. Daniel rushes into the dormitory and makes a mental point to reprimand you later.

He approaches your dorm room door and knocks, "...[Y/N]?"

…Nothing. He knocks firmly this time, repeating your name. After two more unsuccessful efforts, he twists the doorknob and enters.

His eyes briskly scan his surroundings—a lump under a certain someone's bed is breathing like the stillness of the ocean waves. Daniel can't believe you could sleep peacefully at a time like this.

He huffs at the sight in front of him, eventually marching his way towards you.

Despite his irritation, he gently prods you while whispering your name so as not to alarm you.

"Good riddance. Are you trying to skive off school and lose us some house points?"

You groan and wriggle under the covers. "[Y/N]," he scolds.

Daniel watches your eyebrows furrow deeply.

"I can't, Daniel—" Your voice breaks, alarming the boy above you.

In a panic, he hovers above you, "Are— Are you crying…? What happened? What's wrong?" He reaches out to wipe stray hairs off your face.

The risen temperature of your forehead hits his fingers, which raises suspicion in him. He softly presses his knuckles over your skin to double check.

"Oh."

"Huh…?"

"You're ill."

You croak out, shifting around on your bed to find a better position, "That explains everything."

He sighs, long and heavy. "You need to get new roommates, those ones clearly don't care about you."

"They do…" You mumble in an attempt to protest.

"Don't argue."

He ponders for a bit, weighing his choices.

"Are you okay with being alone here for a bit? I'll inform the teachers about this and be back by lunchtime, I promise." He accentuates his word of honor. You whimper, but manage to nod at him.

After offering you some fast guidance on what to do for the moment, and encouraging you to do simple things—like to constantly drink the water on your bedside table of which he provided for you—he scampers out of your dormitory and contemplates praying a little.

Ideally, the scolding and penalty he receives will be mild enough to allow him to come see you later. But more significantly, that your fever doesn't worsen during his absence for the full four hours.

At last, it's 12 o'clock. Daniel hurried to collect his books once class ended, tucking them under his arm. He briskly moves past a few students in his path and dashes out the door.

"Daniel!" Lottie scurries towards him.

"Where's [Y/N]?" She exhales, restless after endlessly running about, "I was supposed to paint her today, but I haven't seen her all morning." She says, devastatingly.

"She's sick today. I got late because of her…" He mumbles. "She's probably going to feel better by then, so you should check on her later."

"You're on her way to her right now, right? Can I come with?" Lottie practically pleads, clutching her sketchbook to her chest. Daniel hesitates.

"What— I'm— On my way to Potions class. She says she wants to be left alone," He turns away and decides he has wasted too much time, "It's best to respect her wishes."

"Oh. Well, you're not coming to the Great Hall for lunch first?" She calls out to him as he ascends the stairs.

"No," He barely replies, given how far away he is now. And soon he's gone somewhere she can no longer see him.

Lottie brings her hand to her chin, deep in thought.

It took a while, but he shakes the small bottle of healing potion between his fingers.

He must be having a particularly lucky day because there aren't any other students in the dorm at this particular time. Though a not-so-lucky one for you… But he digresses, that's what he's standing at your doorway for.

Daniel knocks even though he knows you won't answer. However, it makes little difference if it serves to let you know of his presence rather than to startle you.

You're once more sound asleep when he comes in. He casts a sympathetic glance over you as he walks, taking note of the empty glass of water. Daniel regretfully looks down at his feet, wishing he had given you two glasses, or three.

"Daniel…?" You mumble. He comes back to his wits at the sound of your voice, and he crouches next to your bed to get eye-to-eye with you.

"Hi," You mumble.

"Hi," He coos.

He sits up higher now, kneeling on one knee, "You should get up. I got you a healing potion."

He'd definitely lie about it to be something else at another time, but he's too fixated on helping you feel better at the moment. And you're too sick to process that he had made it for you.

You whine a bit, but you sit up as he instructed.

Daniel stares at you and instinctively reaches out to brush down your bed hair.

Your eyes are still shut tight, and eyebrows furrowed in an attempt to tame your headache—obviously that wouldn't work.

Your eyes are only just beginning to open as his thumb and index finger softly grip your chin. On another hand, he's holding up a bottle of which you immediately catch on to be the said healing potion.

"Open up," he utters.

You do, and the opening of the bottle is brought to your mouth, the potion now coming into contact with your tongue.

You grimace. You don't like the taste of it.

Daniel takes notice of your reaction and swipes his thumb encouragingly.

You feel your senses sharpen after the last gulp, and the headache you had recently felt is weighed off of you. Nevertheless, you're still a touch under the weather.

"That's good," he says. "You should rest, still. It's not good to go running about right after taking the potion."

He hadn't taken his hand off your chin.

"Daniel—" You gently grasp hold of his other arm. "Please, can you stay with me for a while?"

Over the few hours of tossing and turning, there had been multiple times where you were at the verge of tears from being alone in such a horrible state. Normally, you would like to be left alone, but you wished your best friend was there to aid you.

Before any of you could react, your door pushes open on the spur of the moment. "[Y/N]? I brou… Oh wow."

Lottie stares at the situation in front of her, thoroughly befuddled on what she should do or say.

Immediately, you and Daniel retreat away from one another, leading you to hiss at the abrupt movement and Daniel moving forward in an effort to aid you.

"I'll just leave this here…" She says, placing the bowl of French onion soup on an adjacent table.

"Um…" Daniel starts, only to be interrupted by you.

"Oh, Lottie! I apologize for being absent today, I know you were supposed to paint me…" You try to brush the earlier scenario off with a timid grin. "What a shame, I was looking forward to it."

The girl by your doorway blinks before coming to her senses.

"Y-Yes. But it's all right! Daniel said you'd be fine in a few hours, but I couldn't bear not checking on you. I… Guess I should have done as he said, yeah?" She sheepishly smiles at Daniel, who's kneeling away from the both of you in humiliation.

"I really can't help but wonder why you didn't take [Y/N] to the Hospital Wing." Lottie comments, taking one last glance at your sleeping figure before quietly shutting the door.

"It— Well, remember when half of Hogwarts caught a cold? Did the Hospital Wing really do anything about it?" Daniel protests.

"That's because the Hospital Wing couldn't handle more than five-hundred students at a time, Daniel…"

Lottie shoots him a smile as they begin walking, "You care about her a lot, don't you?"

Daniel bounces back from the little embarrassment of discovering she's correct. "Why wouldn't I? I'm her friend. I did better than the roommates who left her there."

"I guess so…"

Silence descends over the two with nothing but the clacking of their shoes against the floor. It's a little straining, if they would be honest. Given that the prior incident was so casually dismissed as a typical occurrence— between two apparently friends.

Worse is none of you had even bothered to clear up that whatever she had witnessed was none of the sort.

Lottie clears her throat, "I feel like I should ask the question everyone has been keeping locked on the back of their throats."

Daniel raises an eyebrow at her, unaware of what she's implying.

"Are you and [Y/N]— You know…" Lottie flushes slightly at having to pose the question herself, only to smile broadly at the boy's sudden flushing of the cheeks.

"W-What are you implying?" He croaks out. The two of them had come to a halt by now.

Lottie brings her palm to her lips, attempting to contain her laughter at Daniel's newly discovered state. She decides not to further embarrass him out of pity for how he must be feeling helpless at the moment—which he is.

"Nothing—" She snickers, turning her heel and walking ahead, "It's nothing!"

Daniel observes as her silhouette vanishes into the hallways. And for a brief moment, he hesitates.

But he finds himself standing at your doorway once again, deciding that maybe—just maybe—he'll stay with you for a little while. Or… for whatever long you choose.

At least, just hope he doesn't get caught by the Prefects.

a/n: see?? im writing guys!! also i read my old writings and let's just say i croed ❤️ if only that amount of talent was back

#(*ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ꕤ*.ﾟ— written by lnr #hpma x reader #daniel page x reader #hogwarts magic awakened x reader #hpma #hogwarts magic awakened #daniel page

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lou-struck · 1 year

Text

Shaping Hearts

Osamu Miya x reader

~ Onigiri Miya has a line out the door, but it's owners thoughts are elsewhere.

WC: 1.1K+

a/n: This was a WIP i forgot about posting for Valentines Day...oops

Onigiri Miya seems to be trending on Instagram…again.

When you first set up your boyfriend’s restaurant on social media, you did it just to help him get the word out a bit more and maybe get featured on a few food bloggers' websites, but now thanks to 90% Osamu’s fantastic cooking and about 10% his gorgeousness. The page has gained thousands of followers.

Curiously, check some of the most recent tagged posts and see that Osmau’s usually pristine triangular rice balls are shaped into plump little hearts.

“Cute,” you murmur as you scroll through the pages of aesthetically pleasing rice ball pics. It’s a nice little change for the holiday, but you are confused as to why Osamu hadn’t told you about his little plan earlier, especially since you could’ve made a promo post about it on the account.

But as your cab driver pulls in front of the beloved restaurant, the long line that stems out the door and around the block tells you that Osamu is more than busy enough today.

You pay your cab fare and walk towards the front door of the restaurant past the groups of young people who, from the conversations they are having amongst themselves, are there for much more than the food.

You hear a few people grumbling about how you are walking past the line, but you continue onwards.

Pushing open the doors you slip into the restaurant and feel the warmth of the heating system on your skin. You pass the full tables of people eating their heart shaped onigiri's and talking amongst themselves. Everything feels so homey it warms your heart. This is exactly what Osamu had dreamed of when he first opened Onigiri Miya.

Making your way to the kitchen you open the door slowly so you don't startle your boyfriend. Who is hunched over one of the prep tables, a steaming bowl of rice and a tray of fillings on either side of him.

He scans the tickets as they come in shaping the rice balls and stuffing them with care and smoothing out the little heart shape before sending them off to the pickup counter, despite the crowd his eyes are lidded and he his lips are upturned in a soft smile.

His motions are fluid and practiced, and he softly sings along to the cheesy love song on the radio as he works, Knowing he is in the zone you take the opportunity to surprise him.

“Hey Samu,” you say, sneaking behind the counter and wrapping your arms around his beefy muscles.

“Hey darlin’,” he says shooting you a sleepy smile. “What brings you here? Didn’t ya have plans?”

Nuzzling deeper into his arms you feel the softness of his soft t-shirt on your skin. “I guess I missed you,” you hum, noticing the way his shoulder slump in relaxation. “And we just met for some drinks,”

“Drinks?” he parrots. "It's a bit early for that isn't it?"

"Nope, its after five." you say watching the cute look of confusion on his face.

He curses under his breath and turns his head a bit to glance up at the clock, his tired eyes making out the placement of the tiny hands and shakes his head “There’s no way it’s that late.”

You raise a brow in concern “What time did you think it was?"

He shrugs, "I dunno, it felt like I was still in the lunch rush. I haven't had time to take a breather since I was on the phone with ya.”

"You do have quite the crowd out there." you say giving his shoulder a little squeeze. "Probably because of the little promotion you are doing today."

“Promotion?” he asks, letting that adorable look of confusion take over his features.

You nod, "Yeah, the heart-shaped onigiri you have been making, they are all over Instagram today." you explain gesturing to the tray of little rice hearts on the table.

A pink flush covers his cheeks as he stares down at the balls picking one up carefully. “I-i didn't realize they were hearts.” he mumbles.

Your eyes widen a bit as you look at the man in front of you. "But you have made hundreds of them today, how could you not know?”

He lets out a little chuckle and brings the tray to the counter. "I just...you know... get into the zone when m' cookin."

“Yea, but you’ve never made hearts before.” you tease “What exactly were you thinking about in,” you lift your hands and make little air quotes with your fingers. “‘the zone’”

“Someone special,” he smirks, placing his on your waist and pulling you into his chest and peppering your neck with gentle kisses that tickle your skin. “

Turning your head, his kisses come to land softly on your lips and you smile. “I guess you missed me, too Samu.”

“Obviously,” he grins, his teeth graze his bottom lip and his eyes stare down at you hungrily. Looking all too ready to spend the dinner rush lip locked with you.

And you would’ve let him.

“H-hey, Mr. Miya,” one of the servers stammers from the window, “how are we doing on those tickets?”

“ shit, “he sighs, glancing out of the corner of his eyes to see the influx of tickets that keep getting sent to the kitchen and the line that stretches out the door of the restaurant and around the corner. “I guess I gotta finish these off."

“Probably,” your murmur internally cursing to yourself as he pulls away. “ The only thing worse than a crowd is a hungry crowd.“

“Ya got that right.” He smiles, taking a ticket off the line and scanning its contents. “The sooner I fill these orders, the sooner I get to spend some time alone with ya.”

“What can I do to make that happen sooner?” you ask tilting your head to the side.

“How about you give me a kiss every time I finish a ticket?" he asks, giving you that little lopsided smile that never fails to send butterflies into your stomach.

Glancing at the dozens of tickets that your boyfriend has to go through you nod thinking it sounds like a pretty sweet deal. “I-i can do that.”

“Good, M’ countin on ya.” he smiles and slides a heart shaped onigiri over to you. "Here’s a little somethin to keep yer energy up. We’ve got a long shift ahead of us.

You take a bite of the cute little rice ball with a grateful smile, "It's so good Samu," you beam "I don't know if it's the heart shape, but I can definetly taste the love."

"It's all cause of you darlin'" he smiles "I rice ball ya."

"I rice ball you too," you grin at his corniness and take another bite. And as you feel the love it was cooked with dance on your tongue you prepare to help your boyfriend complete order after order.

#Haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu osamu #osamu miya x reader #miya osamu #osamu x reader #x reader #hq #hq x reader

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cosmos-coma · 2 months

Note

Hello there! 👋😀

I was thinking of Bucky who volunteers with the elderly (considering his real age ) headcanons, please ! 🧓

No pressure of course ! 🫡

You. You get me. 😁♥️

Bucky Volunteering With the Elderly HCs

So I think it actually started at Sam’s request.

He understands Bucky to a good degree, being a trauma counselor and one of his few, but closest friends (despite the bickering lol). So he suggests Bucky get out into the real world again since that’s what helped Sam. He recommended Bucky reconnect with real people, and people from his own time at that.

Sam of course goes with him for his first visit. And while Bucky is a little nervous/awkward at first about how this will go he’s quick to loosen up

“Oh! Aren’t you a handsome one!” An old lady tells him, “how old are you now?” And he just smiles, “oh I turned 107 a few days ago.” The nurses of course think that it’s a joke, but the old people are the truth of it.

"Oh! So, you remember Joan Bennett and those silly weather prophet toys?" The old woman said excitedly. "Remember her?" Bucky says with a big smile, "She was my first crush. My mom and sister loved little women when it first came out."

All the older ladies adore talking to him, telling him all about their newly single kids (who are all like 60-70) and reliving pleasant memories of decades gone by. But Bucky does also make a point to visit with the men and old Vets and such too, where he's finally able to relate to someone outside of Steve. Though the old folks often forget some of the hard times (for which Bucky is glad for) they do get to recount a lot of good laughs and shenanigans they got up to In their respective squads.

Bucky doesn't even realize that by the time he's done and ready to leave that it's already been 4 hours. Sam even went to get lunch and come back.

After that Bucky makes it a regular thing. If he's not off doing missions and has a good chunk of downtime he'll go volunteer to spend time with the them. The staff and nurses of course absolutely love him and thank him profusely for his time and the way he's really lifted up the patients moods lately.

He also makes a point to remember people's birthdays. Bringing them flowers or a piece of pie from the diner down the road. He's also not above sneaking in some contraband either (mostly beer, nude magazines, and harmless prank items)

Of course becoming friends with old people also has its draw backs... and Bucky's heart breaks whenever he loses a new friend so quickly. He'll make a stop in at the funeral or wake, say his condolences and such, but doesn't usually stay very long. Honestly he's just happy to have known them in the first place.

But! To end on a happy note: you know the staff gave Bucky his own little locker or coat hook to put his stuff away in. He's in there so often that they actually print out a little name card and everything (Sam might be a little jealous).

________

(Oops! forgot to add the taglist!)

General Bucky Taglist:

@writingmysanity @simpxinnie @goldylions

If I missed or accidentally tagged you lmk! Wanna be added General Bucky taglist? Please ask/DM me!

#writing this out while donating blood so I have a distraction #bucky imagine #bucky headcanon #bucky #bucky barnes imagine #james bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #Bucky barnes #James barnes #the winter soldier #winter soldier

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mrsjavierp · 4 months

Text

Where You Belong?

Chapter 7 - Torture

Javier Peña x latin!f!reader

Summary: Running away from life as you always knew to start a new position as Head Chief on a DEA Office, far away, on Colombia. There, you'll face violence, as you never thought you could. There, you'll meet Javier Peña, your stubborn agent...

Warnings (to the whole fic): +18!, angst, smut, cheating, last relationships, drug dealing - Narcos Universe (not so accurate), bad spanish, english is my second language, use of Y/N and Y/LN. No physical description of the reader, only your clothes (sometimes). The POVs are shifting between reader (first person and Narrator - 3rd person)

(If I forgot anything, tell me, pls!)

Word Count: 2,6k

A/N: I'd love to know about you're thinking about it so far! Your opinion is really important! Tks <3 Btw, I'm tagging @pedrostories! Babe, let's show'em why we're so much in love for that man!

Obs: Oops, I did a "past x present situation" again, so, anytime you see something written like this, is past. If not, it's just Javi's memory about the night he won't (and can't) forget... And neither can you, reader <3 Let's be honest, how would we forget a night like that?

***

Narrator's POV:

Javier went to see how Steve was doing, after Connie left.

The apartment was a mess, with empty bottles all over.

If ever Steve were sober, it was before his girls went back to Miami.

He was so depressed... Made Javier think about his family as well, but in a different way: if it was him and Lorraine, would he try to do some or anything?

Steve sniffed and cleared his throat, handing Javier a beer, bringing him back from his thoughts.

"Have you, uh... Had anything to eat in the last 24 hours?" - he asked.

"About Y/LN..." - Steve ignored Javier. - "Do you think she's gonna send me back? Did she say anything?"

"To be honest, I think if she was going to send you back, she'd have done it already. We know she doesn't put up any shit."

Steve sputted.

"Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Do you think I am out?"

"I don't know." - Javier answered.

"Well, I ain't ready to go home yet, Javi. I'll tell ya that." - Steve threw the top from his bottle away. - "Damn it! She's fucking..."

Javier got up, he needed to do some or anything.

"Take a shower. Sober up." - he suggested to the friend. - "I'll get back to you."

Steve sighted, sitting back down.

"Thanks for talking to Y/LN again, man." - Steve thanked, while Javier was driving to their new office. - "I mean that... You saved my ass."

"One more fuck-up, Murphy..."

"Oh, I know." - he responded.

"Is it gonna happen again?" - Javi asked, worried.

"I don't know. I really don't." - Murphy seemed lost in thoughts.

"Let's hope for the sake of our careers that is the first and the last one."

Shortly after they arrive, you show up by helicopter, wearing a black tight suit, heels and sunglasses. Javier was already shivering.

Making an effort to change his focus, he said to Steve:

"Get ready to get your balls snippet." - and they both smirked.

Steve and you sat down at your office, his expression was awful: sad, bitter, hangover.

“So Connie left… You’re upset, knocked a few back to numb the pain and then decided to take it out on some Wall Street pendejo”

“Yeah, something like that.”

“Isolated incident?”

“Yeah.”

“You still don’t trust me? That’s fine. But if I’m gonna have your back, I need to know that I can trust you. Otherwise, I have no problem sending you back to Connie in Miami… Am I making myself clear or do you need a drawing?”

“Loud and clear, Jefe.” - He sighed.

“Dismissed, Murphy. Go to work.”

He got up and left your office.

He was just a ghost… A resemblance to what he was, when Connie was here. God, you felt sorry for him.

Hours later, you sat down at the bar, close to your office, after all those hours, alone.

You just wanted peace.

So much happened and you also got quite some happening.

Steve and his bullshit, Escobar on the run, Crosby up on your ass...

"A Dry Martini, por favor. Seco." (A Dry Martini, please. Extra dry.) - you order.

"¿Señorita, dry martini? ¿Seco? ¿Estás enferma?" (Miss, dry martini? Extra dry? Are you sick?)

"No, amigo... Soló necesito olvidar algunas cosas." (No, my friend… Just need to forget a few things.)

He knew your drink was a neat scotch, he never saw you drinking any other thing.

You hated how the gin burned while going down your throat. You could almost remember when Javier fucked your throat at the same time you used your vibrator because he wanted to see how you've done by yourself... He convinced you to pick it up at your place because he needed to ruin you, as you did to him...

"Díos mio... I don't wanna remember anymore, please, make it stop..." - you whispered like a secret prayer, closing your eyes.

About 2 hours later, taking off his tie, Javier walked into the same bar.

He sighed, so frustrated, so hurt, so pissed off.

Lorraine just had put the cherry on top: she wanted to leave Laredo to Dallas or Austin, because... He didn't even understand why. She asked for more money, his visit for a few days... The only good thing on that call was his baby boy, Lucas, who your so called wife insisted on calling Luke. Sometimes, he felt a little prejudice from her against his latin origin.

And she demanded again! Javier was trying to delay it, but she was coming on strong at him.

The worst part is… He didn’t care about Lorraine. Not that he ever did in the first place, but…

In reality, he was just sad...

Sad that he spent an intimate long night fucking you and... Nothing.

You just disappeared. Left him hanging.

Javier didn't even get to listen to you masturbating anymore.

He asked for a scotch, neat.

Just like he purred to you that night…

Sometime that night, you sat down on the armchair by his bedroom window, lit up your cigar, while he served you a glass of whiskey. You wore nothing but your red panties...

Javier kneeled down, again, for you.

There you were, smelling like your cigars, whiskey, sex... And Javier.

His hands worshiped your figure, opening you for him, again.

"Javier, I'm a little occupied..." - you said to him, almost purring.

"I don't care. I need to touch you. Go ahead with whatever you drink or smoke. It's sexy as fuck."

He loved that your scent was just like his. Make him feel like you belong to him, only him.

“When I'm done with you, you're gonna smell just like me… Like my come, my perfume, my spit, my sweat… You ruined me, cariño. I'm just returning the favor.”

“Javi…”

“You know where you belong, don't you?” - his index and middle fingers entered you again. You moaned. - “You belong with me, cariño. I'm not letting you go.”

“Oh fuck…” - you moan. - “You also smell just like me, Javi…” - his eyes widened, surprised. - “You also smell just like my french perfume, my spit on your dick, my sweat on your skin… My come all over you…”

You were so distracted you didn't even notice when he walked in and sat across from you.

When he spotted you, Javier went up to you.

"Martini, Y/N? Gotta say, did not see this coming."

"Bite me, Peña." - you responded through your teeth.

"I wish I could, cariño, but you won't let me get near you. I miss you. Don't tell me that you don't remember or you didn't like it." - his mouth came closer to your ear and murmured: - "You came so many times in my mouth that shirt I wore still smells like your cum, even after I washed 3 times already... Wanna know where it is?"

You sighted slowly, catching your breath, eyes closed.

"My bed, cariño. Right where you left your red panties, where you belong. Where you should be." - he continued to whisper in your ear.

"Peña..."

"No, not Peña. Call me Javi, babyboy, obedient soldier, anything but as if we were working… We both know that’s not under your obligations."

You looked at him, in pain.

"I-I-I can't. We gotta be a part, Peña."

He hit the bar with his fist.

"Bullshit! You may be an award winning actress, but you can't pretend any of that. I remember it all too well... I remember you telling me that was a fucking dream and you didn't wanna wake up! I remember you melting under my touch..."

You laughed.

"Peña, I quit smoking and drinking whiskey because of you."

"Why?"

"Because it tastes just like you." - aside from the scotch, he smoked cigarettes, not cigars. Your eyes are almost in tears.

He looked at you with those puppy brown eyes.

"Cariño... You don't have to..."

"Yes, Peña. I do... You don't get it, do you?"

"Actually, no, I don't. Enlighten me, then." - Javier responded, rude. He couldn't bear to be hurt one more time. He wanted to be yours and you to be his, only his.

"It was a mistake, Peña. You're overthinking what happened... I... We..." - you didn't know how to say or justify. You were lying and you were such a lousy liar... Javier could see right through you.

"Don't! Don't you dare to continue to say anything like that!" - it was his time to respond through his teeth. - "You don't get to do that! I won't accept these lies! You're not fooling me nor anyone… Days ago you were moaning and coming all over me... Now you want to take it back? News flash, you can't! You can’t change the past, you can’t change the fact that we fucked worse than rabbits, cariño. I told ya, I’m greedy as fuck." - his voice went from pissed to almost cooing at you.

You were feeling awful. Guilty. You shouldn't want Javier so badly, but you wanted.

"Peña, I'm your boss. We've got a job to do. I can't get involved with you, it was a mistake!"

Javier's heart was pounding. You couldn't do that to him.

You tried to get up, but your liquor betrayed you, almost throwing you on the ground, but Javi picked you up before you got hurt.

"Vamos, cariño. I'll take you home, vecina." - he said.

You only cuddled with him, holding up all you could.

Javier helped you get inside, paying attention to what you needed: You needed to eat, to take a shower and lay down, unfortunately, too drunk to do it alone.

First, Javier prepared a bath for you, a warm one.

"Peña, I just dumped you... You don't get to see me naked again." - you said to him, while you were sitting on the closed toilet and he took off your shoes.

He laughed. You were a cute drunk.

"Don't call me Peña. I already told you. Right now, I'm not calling you by 'jefe' or 'Y/LN' either. You're cariño, hermosa or even babygirl."

You began to take off your clothes, while he took off his jacket and folded his sleeves.

"I like cariño, Javi..." - you almost purred. - "I shouldn't. But I do..."

"Good. Cariño will be, Hermosa."

He helped you finish undressing and getting in the tub.

"Oh, it's gooood. Thank you, Javi..."

He remained outside it, just taking care of you, not letting you lay down too much or sleep.

When you finished, he covered you with a towel, leaving you alone for a few minutes to look for some medicine, as hangover prevention, and some food.

A little like him, your fridge only had whiskey, water and a leftover pizza.

You two were more alike than any of you wanted or expected.

He used the oven to heat it, at the same time you put a red and lacy nightgown.

"Oh, fuck, cariño... Had to be this one?" - he asked you, trying not to sound so horny.

"It was this one or none. Pick your poison, Javi."

He sighed. What a fucking brat you were, even drunk as a skunk.

"Sit, please. There you go, eat it. Where do you keep your painkillers?"

"My bedroom..."

"Finish your dinner, cariño. I'm going to give you some, we've got work to do tomorrow, you need to bring your A-game."

"Peña, I always do. Don't mess with me."

He snorted. Feisty one you are, as usual. He liked that about you.

You finished your slice and he took you into bed, made you take your medicine. He didn't lay down, he just sat next to you, observing.

"He never took care of me like that, you know?" - you revealed, almost sleeping.

"Who, cariño?"

"Ben..."

"Who's Ben anyway?" - Javier asked, pretending not to be curious, but you were too drunk to notice anything in his voice.

"My ex fiance... A cabrón... Malparido." - you cursed.

"Remind me, cariño, why?"

"You know... All the cheating, all the lying..." - you yawn. - "I'm tired, Javi..."

"Sleep, cariño. Buenas noches, hermosa... I'll bring breakfast tomorrow morning, before we go to the office."

But you slept before he even finished his sentence.

Javier left you safe and sound, at your apartment.

However, he never felt worse.

He wanted to be with you, more than sex. More than he ever wanted to be with any woman.

The problem is...

He's also a cheating bastard. He also fucked half of Medellin and Bogota.

He doesn't deserve you and he knows it.

Javier doesn't care.

He's not going to give up on you: on the contrary, he's going to solve all that he can before you ever find out...

But how? How is he going to keep Lorraine away? How will he manage his boy's custody?

Too many questions, no answers.

“One problem at the time…” - Javier told himself, crossing the hall and entering his apartment.

He looked around: all in order, but you were missing. He wanted to do it right…

Javier laid on his sofa… But it smelled like both of you. He got up and sat at the table in the kitchen, Lorraine’s letters organized in a box.

Pandora's box, as he joked sometimes to himself.

“Fuck…” - he cursed. - “How am I going to pull it off?”

Next morning, he knocked on the door, anxious.

The seconds before you opened it felt like hours. He was bringing you breakfast from Mrs. Hernandez's café: arepas with cheese and eggs, mantecada, marquesa and, of course, black colombian coffee.

You open, holding back a smile, wearing a black dress and boots.

"What are you doing here? Something happened?" - you sound surprised.

Javi smiled, coming in as you let.

"Yes, cariño, I told you I would bring breakfast... I don't get the surprise. Wait, you don't remember? You were that drunk?"

"Oh, fuck! I forgot... Sorry, by the way."- you said as Javi entered your home.

He pulled you into his embrace, after putting the food at the table, and held you close, smelling your hair. - "I miss you so much, cariño... Don't push me away, please." - he begged.

You took a deep breath, Javier's scent was so good, so masculine and strong... You miss him too, but how can you manage it all?

You look deep in those puppy eyes.

Fuck, you hate that effect on you.

"Can we talk about it later? I'm very thankful that you brought food and took care of me last night... But things are not that simple. I don't quite remember, I was really drunk. But I do remember that I said I dumped you."

He laughed, stroke your hair.

"Not exactly... But you did reveal a few things, including that you quit smoking and drinking whiskey because of me."

You turn your face away. You felt a stupid girl, alcohol in and truth out. Your own mind betrayed you.

"Oh, fuck. Peña, I... Really, let's eat. After work we can talk, okay?"

He agreed and you both set the table. It was all delicious, he brought everything you like.

"Was Ben at least thoughtful during your hangovers?" - he asked, casually, with a smirk on his lips.

"Peña, what the fuck? How dare you? That's none of your business!" - you screamed towards him.

How and what does Javier know about my ex? - you thought.

"Cariño, you're the one who brought him up last night. I was just curious..."

"Peña, you have no right! Leave my home! Right the fuck NOW!"

"Y/N, what the fuck?! What the hell happened to you from last night to this morning?"

"I got sober, my senses got back to the right place. And you know what? I was only delaying what I was going to say. We're not getting together again. That night was a huge mistake!"

"Your car is in the garage, by the way. Keys in the ignition. See you later, jefe." - he picked up his coffee that was on the travel mug and left your apartment, not looking back.

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omaano · 55 minutes

Text

SW Hades AU Status Update

I wanted to make a dedicated post about what I’m currently working on for the Star Wars meets Hades AU that looks more consistent than just sharing bits and pieces whenever I’m tagged in a Last Line Challenge. Because what else do I have but the poly sketch requests and this AU for my weekends? (If nothing else I know that the Hades AU has got me XD)

For now Obi-Wan and Maul are stuck at the same stage: they are both lined, have their base colours down as well as the two adjustment layers of coloured lighting.

I suspect if I were ever to get through the agonozing few hours of shading Obi-wan’s face it would be mostly smooth sailing from there. The problem is that there are at least 2 - if not 3 - separate stages where the shaded face looks like I have no idea what I’m doing, and you need to get through the whole thing before it really comes together 😅 on the other hand Hades 2 has a lot of the directional shading I might need for his character art so that might help to get me there.

It also needs to be said that Obi-Wan comes with the extra disadvantage that is the entire background behind him. I’m really hyped to line it finally, it is quite a challenge, but at the same time I’m slowly coming to the realization that I have no idea how I will colour it. Hades backgrounds are so so pretty and full of details and gorgeous colours, and while I’m not delusional enough to think I could match that on first try… I still wish I could, you know? At the same time I will have to erase or recolour a lot of my lines, which will hurt quite a bit, I imagine. I’m so bad at killing my darlings 😅 also I hate laying down flat colours. I just find it very difficult to immerse myself in that process, while lining and shading can have their flow.

I had covered up so many lines and details in Maul’s spider parts it’s a miracle I didn’t cry XD However, tips on grouping my shadows and allowing the shape to speak for itself and the details in them are very helpful and on point.

Worrying over writing dialogue for them is also not as far down my to-do list as I wish it were. I have a good enough idea for a quip for Obi-wan, but Maul? He’d need a whole melodramatic rant of his own XD

Aphra has gotten some new lines and I had fixed the satchel I had forgotten the last time I shared the rough sketch for her, thanks to the new character art for Hades 2! Seeing Odysseus and Hermès’s updated looks were great helps here, so I might as well move on to lining her, and finally adding another female character to the roster on top of Ahsoka!

And then there is the biggest update on these little guys below! I will need to clean up the ones I had drawn for Cobb and Boba (and Din) well over a year ago, but with these my version of chtonic companions are done, and thanks to @lesquatrechevrons I have a full list of keepsakes for each character as well. I’m not very good at drawing these little tchotchkes (I say with Rex’s blaster right there LOL) but I hadn’t been very good at lineart or cell shading when I started this project either, so through forced practice I’m determined to change that :D

(It’s not a screwdriver under Boga, it’s one of Cody’s antennas. “It will grow back, don’t worry,” he says as he snaps it off his pauldron and hands it over to Din. Rex backs him up on that one without question. They can't lie for shit but trolling the shiny is their thing.)

Additional fun fact: the reason why I’d picked up the chtonic companions concepts was because I’d been poking at minor details in the background behind Maul (aside from the Chaos doors), and I started adding credits and recoloured nectar to the corner (before I realized that they wouldn’t be visible once the character interaction comes up oops), and I tried to figure out to whose keepsakes Maul would react favorably. I also mixed up companion dolls and keepsakes, so that’s why the Ahsoka doll came to being (I also forgot that that one belongs to Rex, and not Ahsoka herself but uh… they are close enough that they should count by proxy anyway. It’s not Obi-wan’s cup of tea and that should be enough!). Also bless @mapleowl18 for suggesting Lil Soka as companion for Rex ❤️

So this is the current state of this AU project right now. I have my lists and notes, a few scribbled pose ideas in my sketchbook for Sabine (she might be next, unless Bo and her Nite Owls make a comeback), Satine and Omega (with Batcher), as well as some angry scribbles and question marks for Quinlan (who has apparently made his way back into this AU even though he didn’t get a little icon of his own originally orz), and Obi-wan The Second that would stand with Cody post reunion, but I cannot make that one work for now 😅

#I have absolutely nothing for a very long time and then a lot of SOMEthings - this is how we roll apparently #I wish I could spend as much time on these as I wanted to and keep dreaming about them but my attention span still sucks T^T #I will try to make posts like these a regular thing what do we think?#maybe that will keep me on track #hades au #my art #obi wan kenobi #darth maul #doctor aphra #star wars fanart #wip #work in progress #long post #artists on tumblr #sw fanart #hades au update

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cadriona · 1 month

Text

tagged by @lisascumslut78, thanks for the tag!

1. how many works do you have on ao3?

uhh at least 43? 39 are unanon'd, but at least 4 are anon'd i forgot the exact number lol

2. what's your total ao3 word count?

537,345 somehow????

3. what fandoms do you write for?

Mostly Genshin impact! but other fandoms that i've written for are trigun stampede and naruto lol, and then atla by dint of crossover and two unmentioned as they form a crossover that i want to discard to the back of my mind

4. what are your top 5 fics by kudos?

1: 5 times Ningguang saved Beidou and the 1 time Beidou returned the favour (genshin) 2: Mora for a myth (genshin) 3: [redacted] (naruto) 4: Beidou walks off the gangplank (by accident, really) (genshin) 5: Yelan: Spymaster, gambler, self-proclaimed matchmaker (genshin)

5. do you respond to comments?

Yea!! although sometimes it takes a bit to kick my brain into gear to mass respond. Typically needs the right frame of mind, but then i can chug through replying to quite a few!

6. what is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

either Take my heart for it was already yours or Your soul's drowned into silence, No one will rouse you, both genshin with MCD ahaha oops

7. what's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Fever, soup, and tiny baby chirps maybe??? i've quite a few with happy endings but this one was pretty cute

8. do you get hate on fics?

Probably! but people have been nice in the comments section and i love all my readers dearly :D

9. do you write smut? if so, what kind?

ahaha yes >u> um. uh. in my defense generally its inspired by art (taro's art specifically) or for event weeks so imgoingtoduckoutofthisquestionnowplsandthanks

10. do you write crossovers? what's the craziest one you've written?

Yea! The one thats most out of nowhere is Rebirth, Revision, and Revolution, an atla x genshin fic where post apocalypse in genshin verse due to celestia, ning, beidou, yelan and keqing have been reincarnated into the elemental nations! i... really need to finish it lol, there's 3 chapters of *hopefully* 4 up, but the Book of Fire is not cooperating

11. have you ever had a fic stolen?

not exactly? i know there are counterfeit fic sites and at least one of my fics are there, but idk if that counts

12. have you ever had a fic translated?

yea! with the funniest tags too

13. have you ever co-written a fic before?

I... don't really recall doing so?

14. what's your all time favourite ship?

BEIGUANG thank you my queens for rekindling my joy for writing

15. what's a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

the naruto fic, the beiguang vigilante fic, the anon'd trigun fic, uhhh oops

16. what are your writing strengths?

not entirely certain! i think im usually decent at balancing humor in the right situations and worldbuilding?

17. what are your writing weaknesses?

actually getting the brain to settle down to write ok while true, setting that aside, probably not knowing what to cut (i tend to want to put all the details i can think of in the fic, which isn't really conducive for a variety of reasons)

18. thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

depends on if i'm actually familiar with that other language or not, and how easy it is for the reader to get at translations (hover text or subscripts, depending), i myself probably won't be capable of doing so.

19. first fandom you wrote for?

...naruto >u>

20. favorite fic you've written?

mora for a myth for all the worldbuilding i got to cram in! and maybe in that vein, the atla x genshin cross :D

tagging @yuniemaki, @canonical-transformation, @xnarja, @fishareglorious and anyone else who wants to give this a go!its currently past 1am so i can't really remember names rn, sorry orz

#tag game #cadri's rambles #fic author tag game #also when the fuck did i cross over half a million words on ao3 0_0

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tickle-bugs · 1 year

Note

For the warmup prompts can you do Beetlejuice and Lydia (platonic! I do not ship them romantically in any way whatsoever) with the dialogue of “I bet I can get you to say my name.” If not, I totally understand!

So for people who haven’t seen/listened to the musical the vibe is completely different from the movie LMAO less “this is our weird uncle beetlejuice the family won’t talk to him he’s wanted by the feds and can’t come within 500 feet of the house” and more “cool but still weird cousin beetlejuice who collects strange rocks, is always in danger of being actively actively on fire, and is wayyy too into dark humor”. It’s a good show! If you like comedy musicals with a rock lean to the soundtrack, you’ll probably like it. It’s got a Little Shop of Horrors sensibility to it, I think.

If anyone tags this as ship w/ Lydia and Beetlejuice I will crawl out of your screen like the girl from the ring and gnaw on your bones I’m so serious

AU where the plot of this show doesn’t take like. A week LMAO. Basically Lydia hasn’t said BJ’s name yet but she also hasn’t decided what to do with her dad yet. So they’re at an impasse. Lydia regularly goes to hang out in her haunted attic and lament because Delia won’t go up there, thus making it safe. Beetlejuice keeps doing Say My Name-style ad pitches to get Lydia to summon him properly but he’s not very good at it.

EDIT: FORGOT THE BODY HORROR WARNING OOPS!! It’s very mild but just in case anyone needs it <;3

Full-Time Spectres

Lydia’s life is far from conventional, perfectly so, but she’s started to adapt to the strangeness in the walls of her house. She doesn’t have the one ghost she wants most of all, but she’s got three that do just fine for entertainment and scheming purposes. She’s gotten used to the cold spots, the occasional flicker of the lights, and Adam’s habit of walking through walls rather than doors--he figured out that he could and never wanted to stop.

Some things she’ll never adjust to, though, like her attic being strewn with scraps of brutalized board games.

Monopoly’s been pinned to the wall with a knife, Ludo sits perfectly still on a shelf with suspicious-looking green liquid in the shot glasses, and a chess board hovers in the air, eternally aflame. It’s a massacre and she doesn’t know where half of these things came from.

“What’s, uh…what’s happening here?” Lydia kicks the door shut behind her. The door creaks open. She kicks it closed again with a frown.

Adam looks up and squints at the door. His eyes dart around as if he can see the schematics of it and diagnose the problem from halfway across the room. Lydia allows herself a tiny smile.

“Adam’s teaching me to play checkers.” Beetlejuice beams, which is unsettling in itself.

“Well, I tried to reach him to play chess, then a few other things…it didn’t go well.” Adam pushes his glasses up his nose and surveys the board in front of them. He captures one of Beetlejuice’s pieces with a triumphant little ‘aha!’.

Beetlejuice takes a long, pensive look at the board. Very thin tendrils of smoke curl out of his ears as he tries to decide which piece to play. Adam, sweet Adam, goes to help him make an advantageous move, but Beetlejuice shushes him.

“What are you doing?” Lydia sidles over to Barbara, who fumbles with an old lamp. She sets it down before she can shatter it.

“Well, it was going to be a surprise but…” Barbara gestures excitedly to a small nook in the attic. She’s rearranged various boxes of her former belongings to build a shoddy sort of booth. A heavy, ugly floral curtain hangs precariously over the doorway.

“It’s a dark corner!” Lydia gasps sarcastically.

“No—well, yes, but it’s supposed to be a kind of mini dark room? I don’t know much about them but I know you’re always taking pictures.” Barbara shifts awkwardly.

Oh. Oh.

Lydia cradles her camera in her hands, running her thumb along the outside. The pebbled texture is a kiss to her fingertips. If she concentrated hard enough, she can remember the feeling of her mom’s warm hands over her own, showing her how to hold the camera.

“If you don’t like it—“

“You made this for me?” She whispers. She tries to swallow the lump in her throat.

“Still workin’ on it, but yes.” Barbara gestures lamely.

“You…didn’t have to do that.”

“Yeah, well, I’ve got nothing but time. Might as well use it right.” Barbara shrugs. Lydia bounces on her toes.

“I’ve still, um, gotta clear out all of our junk. Adam and I don’t need it anymore, not really, and you need room to breathe. I know it’s not much, but--”

Lydia crashes into Barbara for a hug. She’s icy to the touch, but her touch is the most comforting thing Lydia can imagine. Barbara pulls her in close, cradling the back of her head with her cool hands. There is no heartbeat in her chest, but Lydia can feel that it’s not empty.

A memory of her mother prickles at the back of her mind. She pushes it down.

“Do you want help?” Lydia pulls away and looks towards the dark room, ignoring the twinge of grief in her gut. She can see its potential around the edges.

“It’s your surprise! You can’t help with that!” Barbara gasps, affronted.

The curtain falls heavily from the hooks and thumps into the ground. A plume of dust kicks up and Lydia coughs.

“Okay. Maybe you can.” Barbara scratches her head. Together, she and Lydia hoist the heavy curtain back into precarious-looking hooks embedded in the wall. As they back away from it, silently begging it to stay in place, Beetlejuice sits up ramrod straight.

“Adam, Barbara’s throwing away your coin collection,” Beetlejuice gasps and points over Adam’s shoulder.

“What? They’re vintage!” Adam whirls around. Beetlejuice moves a bunch of pieces around, making a bunch of captures, and eats a piece for good measure. He winks at Lydia. She fondly rolls her eyes.

“You know I would never.” Barbara says. Adam deflates. She kisses his forehead. He grumbles a little but accepts it.

When Adam turns back to the board, Lydia has the express joy of watching him go through the five stages of grief in real time. He looks from Beetlejuice to the board in sheer despair.

“Why do you keep eating the pieces?” Adam puts his head in his hands.

“Because, Adam dearest, it makes you mad.” Beetlejuice pats his shoulder solemnly. Lydia snorts.

“Well, I’m officially out of games.” Adam pats his thighs and stands. He ambles over to Barbara and appraises the curtain. He puts his hands on his hips and starts muttering about supports and tracks. Lydia tries to follow along but her eyes near-instantly glaze over.

“Sooooo, Lydia.” Beetlejuice slides over to her. “Have you given my offer any more thought?”

“You still haven’t given me a convincing argument. Calling yourself ‘the worst of the best’ isn’t exactly a glowing review.” Lydia wrinkles her nose.

“These two like me!” Beetlejuice points at the Maitlands. Barbara gives a teasing ‘meh’ gesture just to see him splutter in offense. She laughs softly.

“I’ll admit, I’m coming around on him.” Adam chuckles.

“Thank you, Adam. Mwah.” Beetlejuice blows a kiss in his direction. Adam turns a little pink and goes back to working on the curtain. Barbara whispers something in his ear that makes him turn even pinker.

“They like anyone. I’ve met cardboard with stronger opinions than them.” Lydia scoffs, then turns. “No offense.”

Adam and Barbara both shrug.

“Fair point. Counteroffer: you hate your dad, I hate your dad, let’s kill him.” Beetlejuice gives his most enthusiastic jazz hands. Lydia stares at him blankly.

“Denied.” She pushes his hands out of the way.

“On what grounds?”

“On the grounds that you suck. Your fate hinges on me and you can’t even get me to say your name. You spend all your time cheating at board games because you need me more than I need you. That’s pretty lame for a big, scary demon,” Lydia says mockingly, curling her fingers into claws. When Beetlejuice gives her the finger, she gives two right back with a smirk.

“Lydia, be nice,” Barbara chides, goosing Lydia’s side. She yelps and smacks her hand away.

Beetlejuice gasps. Lydia slowly meets his sparkling eyes.

“No.” Lydia points at him. Beetlejuice smiles slowly, wicked and full of mischief.

“I’ll kill you. I’ll bring you back to life just to kill you--”

Lydia steps back, Beetlejuice steps forward, and all hell breaks loose. Lydia springs over a pile of Maitland junk and ducks under Adam’s arm. She shoves him into Beetlejuice’s path.

Beetlejuice simply picks Adam up and deposits him elsewhere like a Maitland mannequin. He squeaks and leaps out of the way of their chase.

The two of them circle each other around an unbuilt dining room table kit, Lydia just barely keeping out of arm’s reach. She bolts past a dilapidated spin-your-own-yarn kit and dives through Barbara’s legs to hide behind her.

Beetlejuice stops and visibly considers the consequences of doing the same. Barbara gives him a withering look. He tries to circle around her, but Lydia’s excellent at moving her around like a meat shield. Beetlejuice visibly starts scheming.

Barbara looks at Lydia, looks back at him, and slides out of the way.

“Barbara!” Lydia screeches in outrage but there’s not enough time to screech and run. He grabs her and pulls her into a bear hug.

“Thank youuuu, Babs!” Beetlejuice grins at her. She shakes her head fondly and honorably discharges herself from the battlefield.

“Hey Lydia…I bet I can get you to say my name.” He cackles evilly. Lydia hisses at him, but damn it, she’s already giggling nervously. He swoops his hands over her stomach, wiggling his fingers but not quite touching.

“B-Beetlejuice!” She squeaks and rocks up onto her toes in lieu of running.

“That’s one!” He singsongs, finally touching down on her stomach. She folds into his hands—unwise, really—and curses Beetlejuice to the high heavens and below.

“Think we should help her?” Adam leans over to Barbara. They both watch Lydia worm around in Beetlejuice’s arms, not making much of an escape attempt despite the volume of her threats.

“Nah.” Barbara moves a crate of nearly-unused embroidery hoops out of the way with tender care. The curtain collapses again. Both Maitlands sigh.

“Beetlejuice, you fucker!” Lydia growls, but quickly loses it to laughter. He’s doing this infuriating little pinchy-thing to her sides, one that makes her leap clear off the ground each time. She tosses her head back and cackles, her whole face scrunched with the force of it.

God, she hasn’t laughed like this since…well, it’s been a while. She’d forgotten that she could.

“Eh, that probably counts. One more!” Beetlejuice finds a deathly spot on her lower ribs and decides not to leave it alone.

“Beeeeeeeeeeeee--AHHH!”

“Hm, yeah. See, now we’re gonna have to start over.” Beetlejuice tasers her sides, right at that spot, and feigns disapproval. Lydia makes a noise at a pitch audible only to dogs and demons.

Crunch.

Lydia’s foot connects directly with his face in a frankly-stunning high kick. He drops her roughly. Something goes flying across the room and hits the wall with a quiet thump. Barbara gasps sharply and covers her mouth in shock.

Beetlejuice touches his nose—or rather, the space where it used to be, and a thick hush falls over the attic. Everyone’s eyes drift to the nose, now fallen among jars of the most rancid-looking kombucha on the face of the earth. It twitches plaintively.

He laughs, loud and boisterous. His lack-of-nose whistles as he does. Adam picks up the fallen nose and gags before tossing it to Lydia and wiping his hands on his shirt.

“Got your nose,” Lydia giggles weakly, depositing it into Beetlejuice’s hand.

“Nice shot.” Beetlejuice chuckles, uncomfortably nasally, and shoves his nose back into place with an awful crack. He takes a long, wheezing inhale and gives her a thumbs up.

“So…” He sidles close to her, bringing back the jazz hands.

“No.”

“Yeah, that’s fair.” He sighs.

“Lydia, are you alright?” Delia’s voice curls faintly up the rickety staircase. She climbs up, but not all the way—Lydia can tell by the shuffling of her awful shoes.

Everyone freezes.

“Lydia?”

She opens her mouth to answer Delia and Beetlejuice squeezes her sides. She yelps and whirls around, but he doesn’t even have the decency to feign innocence. He just does it again, waiting for the precise moment she goes to speak.

“Y-Yeah, I’m o-okay.” Lydia wrestles with Beetlejuice’s hands, her voice shaking with barely-restrained giggles.

“Oh god, please don’t make me come up there.” Delia’s ‘whisper’ is anything but. Beetlejuice snorts.

“I’m fine! Just, uhm, doing spring cleaning.” Lydia calls back, stomping on Beetlejuice’s foot. He doesn’t even flinch.

“Okay.” A long, heavy pause from Delia.

“You can go now!” Lydia yells. Delia’s heels click quickly down the stairs, back towards the dreary living.

“You’re insufferable,” Lydia hisses at Beetlejuice, punching his shoulder. He holds his hand over his heart and gives a grand, sweeping bow. When he stands up, he smacks his head against the dagger in the wall. Lydia snickers at him.

He turns around like a penguin, never one to do things normally, and makes a delighted noise at the pierced Monopoly board. He pulls the knife out of the wall and pokes his finger with it a few too many times, fascinated with the sharpness of it.

He stretches, makes a bunch of vague measurement and aiming gestures, then lobs the knife straight upwards. It lodges into the ceiling with an enthusiastic ping! The blade warbles with the force of it.

Beetlejuice slaps the Monopoly board down on the floor and plops down in front of it. Adam bemoans the state of the attic ceiling as Barbara consoles him.

“Wanna play?” Beetlejuice snaps his fingers and the board changes, shifting into black, whites, purples, and greens. Graveyard moss creeps along the edges of the board. Monopoly components spawn into existence on the board, appearing in puffs of fog and comically-quiet wails of the damned.

“Sure.” Lydia sits opposite him. She pokes at some of the moss. It sprouts to meet her touch.

“If you get stabbed, you lose?” Beetlejuice casts a cursory glance to the still-wobbling knife. The blade shifts slightly out of the ceiling.

“Deal.” Lydia sticks her hand out to shake. Beetlejuice takes it with gusto.

“You guys wanna play?” Lydia turns to the Maitlands. Barbara and Adam look at each other, communicating in that telepathic way of theirs. Barbara grins and leads Adam over to the board to sit.

“I call thimble!” Adam reaches for it. Beetlejuice swats his hand. Adam reaches again. Beetlejuice swats him a little harder.

“You can’t have the thimble. I’m the thimble.” Beetlejuice pinches it between his fingers.

“Can I have the thimble?” Barbara leans close to Beetlejuice and looks up at him through her lashes. Lydia never would’ve guessed that a demon could blush, but sure enough, Beetlejuice’s face takes on the slightest bit of color.

“I sense that I’m being manipulated.” He narrows his eyes.

“Is it working?” Barbara smiles.

“Yep.” He slaps the thimble into her hand. She passes it to Adam. He beams. Beetlejuice rolls his eyes but his gaze lingers on them for just a bit too long.

“Well played, Babs. Well played.” Beetlejuice scoops up the racecar piece and frowns at it. Its tiny metal form melts and reconfigures into a small hearse. Satisfied, he places it right next to the cat piece—Lydia’s, of course. Barbara takes the top hat with pride.

When Beetlejuice jumps Adam for his extra get out of jail free card—of which there are a suspicious amount in Beetlejuice’s version of the game—Lydia laughs and swipes a bit of Beetlejuice’s money. Adam’s hiccupy cackles are the backdrop for Barbara robbing the bank in broad daylight, taking as many bills from the tray as her heart desires.

Lydia’s life is certainly very strange and painfully unusual, but she wouldn’t trade it for the world. She can only hope that her mom will love being part of the attic’s menagerie of ghosts and ghouls as much as she does.

#this...this got out of hand #rewrote it twice so it might be a bit of a mess but i think i got to mash together the concepts i was leaning between #hope u enjoy it anon!! thank u for this!!!#my fics #beetlejuice musical #ticklish!lydia #lil bit of adam at the end too but im not gonna tag it #lydia deetz #adam maitland #barbara maitland #beetlejuice #not gonna tag delia either but bless her heart #not explicitly ship but. i think adam barbara and beetlejuice hold hands sometimes idk #tried to include a couple easter eggs/references i hope ppl enjoy those hehe #also bj is just so much fun to write. funky lil freak

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scoops404 · 2 months

Text

Taking a break from my Powerpoint Presentation (it's google slides but whatever) preparation to circle back to the thing @jestbee tagged me in - my fic graveyard

Before even looking, I don't think I have many. I can think of one big one, but we'll see if there are more when I open it up.

I organize mine by year, so here is 2022:

"5 times Dream called George baby accidentally + 1 time it was on purpose"

HAHAH i forgot about this. 2,500 words. I think I stopped writing it because it didn't feel like it was going anywhere and I got distracted by something else. I think this was right before I got sucked into writing Curse and Cure so my brain went entirely into that and forgot this one... oops

"Trans GNF fic" 11K - I really liked this one actually but I let a few trans friends read it to do a sensitivity beta and um it didn't really pass? they gave valid criticism and to fix it I would have had to kind of scrap most of it and I didn't really want to do that because my brain thought of another idea so I went and did that instead. This was going to be FWB cunnilingus fic very heavily pwp - so maybe it's for the best. I'd rather scrap it than write anything hurtful or offensive, so maybe in another universe ((also, this is the one I was thinking of that I never finished))

"Secret Santa 2022 Fic" 400 words. It never got off the ground because my giftee left the fandom and I wasn't really feeling it anyway (wrote Deep in Dream instead and won't apologize for that) but it was going to be very we-didn't-know-we-were-dating and closely canon compliant (but then i kinda did that with Just One Touch).

"2022 Halloween Exchange" (35 words lol) this also got canceled because it was around the time of the drituation, BUT -- my giftee was @extrasteps who I didn't know at the time when we were assigned, but is now very dear to me. But this was going to be soulmates, george as a witch/seer vibes gnf flying to orlando. george has visions and can see other people's soulmates but doesn't know he can't see his own so when he doesn't see Dream as his soulmate, he thinks they aren't soulmates until they meet and.... I wasn't quite sure where i was going with it but it would have kicked ass

Okay, I guess I have more than I remember...

"The Whether" 2,500 words - this one was going to be about dream's exploration of his sexuality and using George (with permission) as a safe space to explore that by flirting with him off-stream, etc. But like an explicit conversation is had about it where dream makes sure George is okay with that and then he just fake flirts his way into falling in love with George. Delves into physical -- George is like you keep questioning all this stuff, so just suck my dick if you want to try it. You know, because he's such a good friend. This one is absolutely Scoops bonkers crazy because Dream does a drodcast and like talks it out loud and realizes on the drodcast that he's actively in love with George. Peak comedy. I don't remember why I decided not to finish this one, might have been because someone I'm friends with was writing something similar and I didn't want to inadvertently copy so I put it on the back burner and then just forgot about it. in this era of Scoops, I can see that if I talked about this one, then people would have hyped me up and I would have ended up writing it fully probably.

2023:

"George's Pretty Privilege" 660 words. This was like one of those small things I had to write after finishing a big project i'd been working on for months (in this case, deep in dream) for something to be completely different. The idea was all the times George used and then realized his pretty privilege. I didn't finish this one because it was kinda boring and then something else caught my interest. Oh! We did a Spin The Wheel challenge and that made me write Shine Here To Us and that took all my attention away

That's it for 2023, besides a Merthur fic I've been working on forever so I don't consider that one "dead"

I don't even have 2021 on this laptop, but I know of at least one - Dream surprises George in line at a con while he's still faceless and pretends to be a fan. I almost uploaded that one.

Anyway, those are my dead and gone and not being resurrected fics. I hope you enjoyed. I got pretty good in 2023 of picking projects that I actually wanted to invest my time into and work to finish them. Taking that energy into 2024.

If you're a writer, feel free to do this as well!! And feel free to ask any questions you want about any of these ideas :D

#scoops writing

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specialbrewbutterbeer · 2 years

Text

RECALL | Pt.3 (Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw X Reader)

Word Count: 6166

TW: Alcohol consumption, very slightly suggestive content near the end

A/N: I hope you enjoy the third part! I have at least two more parts in progress which should round it out nicely and I'm excited to post! (Also this is a repost cos I forgot to add tags earlier, oops)

Feedback is always a needed and welcome thing!

REQUESTS

MASTERLIST (PART ONE) (PART TWO)

Sugar awoke to that familiar early morning sound of jets taking off outside and low sun coming through the slats of her blinds.

She groaned, breathed in deeply and stretched out her back as she sat up. She heard it crack and click, symptoms of sleeping at a cheap plyboard desk instead of on the comfy, if over priced, memory foam mattress that she'd let a salesman in the 'Mattress King Emporium' convince her to buy about six months back.

So far it hadn't been worth the money- she'd not slept on it all that much.

She was a workaholic- like most people on the base were really.

Last night she'd not meant to have fallen asleep in her office- she'd planned to go home and sit in front of her TV and drink a couple beers, watching reruns of NCIS, before heading to her nice, soft, warm and definitely cost more than it should have, bed.

She stood and grabbed her car keys, locking her office door behind her. She rubbed the back of her neck, trying to massage the stiffness out of it and walked along the corridors; lacking the usual authoritative stride. She was accompanied by the distinct sound of her keys jangling as they hung from her fingers which knotted around the keychains.

It'd been a few days since the whole fight between Bradshaw and Seresin, and she'd been run off of her feet with work.

She'd been writing reports and going over old ones, data sheets and mission documents. She'd been writing emails back and forth to the Admiral, who seemed to never sleep and replied to them with remarkable speed. She just worked and didn't bother to look at the clock.

It was still early, she had clothes in her trunk, she could still salvage the day without going home to shower and change.

She came through a heavy fire door at the bottom of a stairwell that took her straight out and into the fairly bare parking lot.

As she pulled her hand from the bar of the door and let it shut with some force behind her, Bradley looked up as he heard the thud.

He was stood with the drivers door of his old Bronco on the further side from her. The driverside door was open as he rooted around his bag looking for something, so he could spot the door (Y/n) had emerged from through the windows of his vehicle.

He didn't mean to watch as she walked across to her own car, but she seemed so different compared to what she usually put across. She leant on the side of her car, rubbed her temples and frowned as she sorted through her keys in her hand until she reached the right one, and twisted it in the lock on her trunk.

She grabbed a duffle bag and slung it over her shoulder, sighed, holding the trunklid open with one arm, before shutting it, locking it and turning tail.

He didn't think much of it, and yet couldn't wrench his eyes off of the woman for more than a few moments before they drifted back to her as she walked. He felt his gaze was somewhat pervase, so shook his head as she neared the front door and zipped up his own bag, having not found what he wanted. He moved on to searching through the glove box instead.

(Y/n) headed to the locker room. She didn't usually do this, but today she needed to.

She undressed, leaving her clothes on the bench, and stepped into a shower cubicle.

She was pretty confident no one would catch her- it was early enough that the pilots would almost certainly not be here for a little while. Long enough to shower. She hadn't seen any of them in the parking lot either- though it wasn't like she wasn't like she was looking. Her head had been swimming with work related things and ached from having slept on a pillow of paperwork.

The warm water was welcome as it dripped down her nose and fingers and down her legs. It soothed all her aches and she felt, for a second, that she could breathe.

She didn't let on very often how properly stressful it was to do her job. There was a tremendous sense of responsibility, and she was glad she could count on one hand the amount of times she'd had to lock her office door, close the blinds and sob as she filled in end of service and notice of death paperwork for someone much younger than herself- but there was always that looming threat that it was going to happen again- under her watch.

Over the years she'd come to know everything about this programme, the jets, the people. She was a pin to a gear in this machine, and a vital one. She was in charge of so much, and this whole RECALL thing had flipped what she usually delt with on it's head. Where she usually could predict, she was blind- what she knew had changed quicker than anyone could adapt.

The report templates she filed and time frame was foreign to her and to compound the stress, changes that usually she'd be able to work through, and be supported through by Admiral Kazansky were a hundred times harder now that he was ill- there was only so much he could do and (Y/n) was inheriting lots of the workload.

She was good- Simpson was good- but there were things that Kazansky did that were the extra mile, more personal and in-depth with the program that she helped to conduct in tandem with the legendary Iceman- in line with his own workaholic tendencies and the fact that TOP GUN was like his baby, he devoted himself to the details and extras that meant he knew everything and he could constantly improve TOP GUN- that was what she was suddenly doing on her own.

She loved her job- she really did. But sometimes she almost wished she had a husband, a couple kids, a stupid great lollopy mutt of a dog to greet her at the garden gate. Something to tie her down- cos right now she was full of tension and stress and anxiety. Plenty of things she didn't like to show outwardly. Things she was hired to help alleviate in everyone else around her.

She massaged shampoo into her hair and let the suds run down her.

She'd now officially not been home for over 24hrs, which didn't seem so long- but she only lived a 20 minute ride away.

Soon though she was done, and had to wrench herself away from the soothing running water, stepped into the cool and steamed up air of the rest of the locker room and wrapped herself in a towel.

She sat on the bench, towelling her hair so it wasn't so dripping wet, and then moved on to attempting to fix her face.

She held up her blush compact, which had a mirror in the lid, and began to put on some minimal makeup- a little eyeliner, and mascara, concealer, bronzer and blush, blend with her fingers and try and feel put together was the plan.

As she did, she heard the latch of the door. She turned her head to see Lieutenant Bradshaw.

(Y/n) smiled a polite smile, which was returned, before she returned to the task at hand- with a quite 'good morning Rooster' as she did.

"Mornin'" He replied, his smile fading inexplicably slower than hers- though she couldn't see it. She'd never called him that before- not just in passing. Once or twice in reference to him, or in a more professional capacity- but not just because she could. Usually it was 'Lieutenant', 'Bradshaw', and the last time they'd really spoken he'd nearly fallen over when she'd actually spoken his name- one that very few people were left to call him by.

He got called Rooster everyday, but not by her. And maybe just because he'd never heard it from her, it was now special.

He went to his locker, just a few feet from her, as she faced away from the door, and him.

Slowly he sorted through his things, he was here earlier than the others- truthfully- because he couldn't sleep. He'd got enough sleep, but not as much as he'd have liked and when he woke up early this morning he'd decided just to go in to work and get a head start. He planned to look over some notes, study the territory again.

He hadn't expected to find (Y/n) here.

Well, maybe in the building- but not here.

He shoved his bag in his locker and stood there, leafing through his notebook and sorting out some loose pages.

There was something quite domestic about it as they coexisted in the same space alone. For the both of them it was as close as they were going to get to domestic bliss any time soon.

It was a little odd, but slightly comforting- certainly not awkward.

As Rooster took out a last couple of things, before presumably heading to leave, (Y/n) was sure she saw, from the corner of her eye, as he turned to her- and paused as if he was going to say something.

He didn't, he just turned and left.

The day wasn't going to get anymore normal.

(Y/n) returned to her office, feeling a little more of herself, fresh and as ready for the day as she could be.

She sat, wading through paperwork for a couple of hours, often distracted for a few seconds, but no more than that, by the jets as they took off and landed. She did note, from the sound as she worked, that none of them were the F-18's that the RECALL team were using.

She was going to investigate it, but she had so many reports to write up- she'd decided not to.

A knock on the door disturbed her.

"Come in." She spoke, not realising she was half mumbling as she did- focused on making sure she was copying data points correctly.

She didn't look up until the person was stood in the centre of the room, she just quickly scribbled down the last few numbers first.

She was surprised to see it was Capitain Mitchell stood neatly in front of her, hands behind his back.

She didn't know where everyone had recently got the idea to be quite so formal at all times with her, she was certainly respected, but not usually treated with this level of firm seriousness. Maybe it was that all of this team were older than the usual TOP GUN students or the workload, but usually she did manage to engrain herself better than this.

"Captain?" She asked, putting her pen down and standing.

"Sugar-" He seemed to hesitate as he spoke her callsign.

She laughed.

"I know, it's a weird one to get used to. I'll answer to just about anything- like an old dog." She smiled, breathing out, though still tense.

"Right-" Maverick nodded, a smile tipping at his mouth.

"How can I help you?" (Y/n) asked.

"Well- you deal with all our HR? Don't you?" He asked.

"I am your HR department on legs." She chuckled and nodded.

"Right- then team bonding is kinda your thing?" He asked, relaxing a little.

"Oh- I'm all over it." She grinned, then paused a moment. "Don't tell me- you're cooking something up?" She tilted her head.

"Yeah, something like that. Dogfight football, on the beach." Maverick nodded. "And we were hoping you'd join us?" He smiled.

"We?" (Y/n) scrunched her nose a little and cocked an eyebrow. Mav turned and opened the door, then looked to the young woman.

"Do you mind?" He asked, now with a grin, motioning to the door.

She nodded, with her own smile and rolling her eyes- but moving outside of the office anyway.

Mav followed and lead her to the window at the end of corridor.

He opened the latch and slid it open, looking out to the parking lot.

He leant out, and gave a thumbs up- with a tremendous grin on his face.

This was greeted with a cheer.

He stepped back and (Y/n) just looked at him. He nodded his head to the window, so she looked out; to see the entire team stood in the parking lot.

When they saw her, a series of whistles, whoops, shouts and applause- which she returned with a wave and a laugh.

She scanned the group- it was Hangman, Coyote and Payback who lead the whistles, Bob waved back and smiled, Pheonix whistled and shouted the loudest of anyone, Fanboy pumped his fist in the air like he was in some kind of victory dance, and Rooster, he applauded and cheered- but for some reason her eye was drawn to him for just a second. Just a moment, and he seemed to stop.

(Y/n) shook her head with a laugh and looked back to Maverick- who shrugged.

"They're pretty keen on you." He told her.

"I was told you'd be trouble-" (Y/n) couldn't help but laugh. "So- the beach?"

Within five minutes she'd abandoned her paperwork to supervise the exercise- and had her gym stuff out of her trunk.

On the beach, she had changed into something more appropriate for the situation, and tied her hair completely out of her face.

She stood there, her sunglasses on her face, along with a smile. It wasn't wasted time being here- the more she knew about the team the better. Or that's how she was justifying it anyway.

She watched on the sand, quite enjoying looking at something that wasn't a piece of paper covered in words and numbers.

She cheered on the teams, and was happy to remain doing just that, wiggling her fingers into the warm sand and soaking up the sun- the fresh smell of the sea filling her nose.

Or she was until Hangman walked up to her, in a short break between games.

She squinted up at him as he stopped in front of her, a sly smirk on his face, he paused, then moved so that his shadow shaded her face and she could see properly.

"Hey Sugar-" He smiled, hands on his hips. "You gonna play the game?"

"I'm not nearly as fit as all you- I think I'm better suited to spectating, or I'll be trampled." She laughed as she moved her sunglassed to sit on her head.

"Aww- come on now; what if we went easy on you Sugar?" He cocked an eyebrow and held out a hand.

"I'd love to say yes- but-" She smiled but shook her head.

"Hey, you're our HR department, aren't you? You and the Captain want us to bond? Fine, but we all gotta bond, and you're part of the team." He spoke, with utter confidence. She just shot him a look of 'yeah- sure.' "What if I said it would affect my mental health, to see you, sat here, not joinin' us? As HR, you wouldn't like that, would ya?" He smirked. (Y/n) had found, despite his sarcasm and comments, he was the playful one of the group- just not in the traditional sense. He was competitive, reckless, bold and could make anything a game. Reminded her of someone else with a similar reputation.

"Well then I suppose I couldn't say no, could I? Just one game." (Y/n) laughed, and took his hand.

"Alright." He nodded, and pulled her to her feet, but didn't let go of her hand. "You do think you're part of the team, don't ya?"

"If it all goes wrong, then it'd be my fault- so yeah I'd like to think so." She smiled, a little confused.

In a split second, Seresin pulled the young woman in and into a firemans lift, with a good laugh on his lips.

(Y/n) let out a quick squeak but couldn't help but laugh- not having expected it.

"Good think nothing will go wrong." Seresin nodded and turned, walking back to the group with, effectively, one of their bosses slung over his shoulder like it was nothing.

"Is this how you treat all women, Hangman?" She laughed, giving in to it.

"No- of course not." He laughed, like it was obvious. "Just the ones on the team who try and get out of playin'."

"Bagman! Put the woman down!" Phonix called out. "Are you insane!?"

(Y/n) could only laugh.

Jake planted her down in the sand, and the moment she was out of Hangman's hands- Phoenix punched him (not very hard) in the arm.

Quite quickly (y/n) realised she'd ended up put down directly in front of Bradshaw.

She turned and found that they were just inches from eachother.

She managed to fumble an awkward hello, before Hangman called her and she turned on her heels, catching the ball that he'd thrown to her.

It really wasn't long before she was in the competitive spirit, and even Maverick had joined in. She wasn't a tall person, so most of these guys, who were considerably taller than her even when she had heels on, towered over her.

Even so, she was quite sprightly; despite this competitive disadvantage and never really ever having been much of a sportswoman.

She enjoyed herself, had a smile plastered over her face the entire time and one game turned very quickly into many more than that.

It was nice, seeing the team get along, work together- it was like overnight they'd become her absolute dream.

She looked over at Maverick, and wondered how she could have doubted him. Well- she'd not really, but she had been worried- and those are two different things. She knew he could do it- she trusted her boss, Admiral Tom 'Iceman' Kazansky had never, in her experience, been wrong; about anything. And he hadn't been about this. It was just- the ease at which it could be done that she had worried about, what the consequences might be.

But whatever Maverick had done, or said, it'd worked, and she suddenly had much more faith in how the whole thing might run smooth. Or smooth enough.

She stepped off of the pitch for a moment to catch her breath, and just watched, pulling her hair back from her face again.

She couldn't help but be particularly pleased in how her pet project seemed to actually be becoming human. It was something she was thinking as he walked over to her- how he seemed a great guy. How his smile was great, and how attractive he was when he wasn't so miserable and formal. God, that felt so unprofessional to admit to herself, but she was only human.

She was so lost in that thought that she didn't process that he had his eyes fixed on her, and was actually coming toward her.

"Hey-" He spoke, a small smile on his lips.

"Rooster." She nodded a greeting, a matching smile on hers. "Are you gonna be shirtless everytime we talk? Is that a thing now?" She teased and he laughed. "This is what you're actually like then?" She smiled as he stood beside her. This was her chance, to actually just talk to him for a second- not lecture him, not be so professional and formal and disciplinary. She'd be lying if she said she'd not been looking for the chance.

"What? This?" He laughed. "Nothing like me at all." He spoke sarcastically, an eager twitch at the corners of his mouth.

"You think?" She looked up at him, sweat on his brow, low sunlight hitting him perfectly. He was a picture. "Well..." She spoke as she stepped forward and back into the game, turning and walking backward away from him. "Feel free to show me more, Rooster." She grinned, even convinced herself to manage a sly and slightly over cocky wink, before turning and getting stuck right back in.

In that moment, he really didn't know if she meant that- or if it was just another way to make him open up; in other words, was it said because she could or because it was her job? He didn't know if it mattered. Undeniably now, the fuzz in his stomach entirely stemmed from the words she said and how well she said them.

For a moment, it seemed they were both eachother's challenge.

When she spotted Simpson talking to the Captain a while later, she jogged over, the smile on her face she couldn't wipe off.

"Sir-" she tried to retain some kind of professionalism in the eyes of her boss.

"Miss (L/n)" Simpson nodded, a slightly stern scowl on his face. "This is going well, then?" He spoke, unsure of what he was looking at.

"Yeah, you could say that." She nodded, watching the game rage on ahead.

"Is, this- going to help with our mission? Sugar?" He asked, he tensed his jaw with hands on hips. It was clear he wasn't convinced by these methods.

"I think so, Sir." (Y/n) nodded, very confident. "I think we might just about be finding our feet here." She had her doubts, and fears, she was certainly keen to have it all over with- but she had more belief in these men and women every time she spoke to them, sat in on their breifings and listened to them. "I think RECALL might actually work, Sir."

"I trust your judgement, Sugar." Simpson turned to her.

"Thank you, Sir." She smiled and gave a nod as he departed.

As she stood in the sand, glistening with sweat, as everyone else was, she had a thought. Heatstroke was never going to do anyone any good. Thankfully, she had a solution in mind.

She turned and headed up the deck of the bar, a sweet smile on her face and greeted Penny. She'd met her many times before, frequenting the Hard Deck on many occasions before and after the elder woman had purchased it.

Her absence wasn't noted until she walked back up the beach, balanced elegantly on her hand, a drinks tray, filled with ice cold bottles of beer.

Even then, a sharp whistle was required to draw attention, as she watched as the team finished rallying around Bob, who had presumably just scored. Rooster slapped him heartily on the back and he put him down off of his shoulders, as did the others.

"Refreshments folks?" She grinned as their heads turned.

"I didn't think HR would condone drinking on the job?" Coyote raised an eyebrow.

"Well- if one of you would like to tell me the time?" (Y/n) asked with a tilt of her head.

It was Fanboy who took up her request, looking at his watch.

"18.01?" He spoke.

"Exactly, so technically the working day has ended, and I have no moral or professional dilemma in this round being on me." She grinned and nodded.

Happily they all took a bottle, thanked her and were glad to have something cold to drink in the evening heat.

She hugged the tray to her chest, a satisfied smile on her face as she watched the group gather in chatter.

"You know, I don't think it's very fair..." (Y/n) heard and startled, turning quickly to the source.

"Rooster!" She laughed and shook her head, looking up at him. "What is?" She questioned, looking him over.

She was almost blushing as she stood there, a bead of sweat rolled down his temple, his classic aviators perched on his nose, though they'd slipped down enough that he could see over them.

He was unforgivingly good looking and now (Y/n) could really take it in.

"That you know every intimate detail about me and my life- and I don't know barely anything about you?" He spoke, calmly, and (Y/n) suddenly felt the dynamic shift into something more equal.

He glanced up to the bar, where the rest of the team were heading inside.

"Come in? I'll get you a drink?" He spoke, not moving his eyes back to her- fearing she'd simply say no, and hoping that, in that eventuality, averting his gaze would preserve some of his dignity and not pull threads in his self esteem.

"Alright." She smiled and in a snap Bradley couldn't help but look at her. He was almost suprised at the answer.

So they walked into the Hard Deck, Bradley slipping a t-shirt over his head and pulling it down over him, as some of the others had also done. The team were spread around the room, a few at the pool table, Maverick keeping a parental eye on them all, scanning the place from behind the bar, where he was helping Penny.

The pair sat at the bar, nearer one end, far enough away from the others that it was quiet enough for a conversation.

"I really don't know everything-" (Y/n) shook her head as she sat beside the pilot.

"Well I only know what I can- assume." Bradshaw said slowly but quite purposefully.

"And- what can you assume?" (Y/n)'s interest was piqued.

"Well... You've gotta be pretty smart-" He began.

"Thank you-" She muffled a small chuckle and nodded.

"And you know how to talk to people, you, uh, certainly told me-" Bradley nodded, raising his eyebrows and leaning back on his bar stool. "I think you probably said all the right things."

"That's my job- saying the right things." (Y/n) softened, her smile twitching a little. "Go on, what else?"

"Yeah, well- You're not married, or engaged? No rings." His eyes drifted to her hand, where indeed there was nothing aside from a plain and practical watch.

"Nope. Who's got the time these days?" She nodded and confirmed his suspicions and hopes.

"The only other thing I know for sure then-" Bradley paused for a second and leant in, whispering as he spoke next. "is what shade of lipstick you wear." He pulled back and laughed a little, and (Y/n) grinned, giving a confused look. "I noticed it this morning. Growing up with just my Mom I spent lots of time in drugstores waiting for her to pick out mascara and nail polish." He smiled.

"Some would call that a pretty intimate detail." (Y/n) almost teased.

"I think it's pretty inconsequential." He shrugged, his own smile on his lips, looking down at his drink.

"What do you wanna know then?" She asked, leaning an elbow on the bar and her head in her hand.

"Hmm... I'll start with: What you want to drink?" He looked up at her and grinned.

"Just another beer is fine." (Y/n) nodded.

"Alright, a beer it is." He nodded and got Penny's attention. She swiftly delivered another drink to the pair. As she returned to Maverick at the other end of the bar, who had just noticed the pair in isolation, they shared a subtle knowing look. "Now, Sugar-" He turned to her as he pushed her drink to her across the bar.

"Yes, Rooster." She nodded.

"How'd you end up here? Managing Top Gun?" He asked, quite genuinely.

"Well," She paused for a moment to collect the story. "I had a job just out of highschool, that was in a dentist's office- I was a secretary, one day in walks some great big military type, begs me to find an emergency appointment for his kid, I get him a slot for within the hour. He gives me his email and tells me he owes me a favour and to contact me if I ever need anything. A couple years later I find myself without a job and I'm running out of options, about to be thrown out of my apartment, loads of debt, and I get in touch-" She explained herself.

"And he helps you out?" Bradley nodded.

"Yeah- Pretty much." She laughed.

"Who was it? Not Admiral Kazansky?" He asked.

"No, but you're close- Ron Kerner?" She spoke the name, quite sure he'd know it.

"Slider? His wingman?" Bradley was as pleased as anyone would have been the coincidence that had brought her here.

"The very same." (Y/n) grinned. "He said the best he could do for me was a job out in California, an old buddy of his was running a flight school, was needing some administration staff and he could put me in touch with him." She took a sip of her drink. "I didn't know any better, had no other options, and of course it turned out to be Kazansky and Top Gun. Slider had put in a good word for me and I got the job, moved out here and worked my way up. That was... Nearly seven years ago?" (Y/n) sighed and realised how much time she'd spent in California.

"Wow, it's- that's- Do you still keep in contact with Kerner at all or?" Bradley asked.

"Yeah- sure I do! I'm god-mother to his youngest kid, they have me over every thanksgiving, since I'm usually too busy to get home." She grinned, reflecting on the whole thing. She hadn't seen the Kerners for a while, swamped with work, but made a mental note to send a message and ask after her god-child.

"That's neat- A good story too." Bradley nodded.

"Yeah..." She paused and looked to him. "I guess you got into the job cos' of your Dad?"

"Uh- yeah, mainly." Bradley nodded and then did a double take. "Wait- seven years?"

"Yeah 2012 I started as an administrative assistant. 24 and still fresh faced- no idea what I was doing." (Y/n) nodded.

"You were here as I was going through Top Gun." He stated, suddenly his mind swirling with his previous stint at Top Gun, trying to mind a snapshot within a memory that might contain her.

"Uh- Yeah I must have been." She thought on it and nodded. "I'm not surprised we didn't cross paths, I was hidden away in a corner of the office doing paperwork till- well must have been not long after you graduated." She turned the bottle about in her hands, from label to branding to 'don't drink if pregnant, don't drive after consumption' warnings.

"Then this drink is overdue." She looked up at him with a small smile, almost shy and more mellow than her usual fire spitting sarcastic persona. "If I'd have met you back then I certainly would have bought you a drink." He nodded and peeled his eyes from and out into the room to give a faux sense of nonchalance.

"I appreciate it." She spoke with a nod.

(Y/n) let her eyes drift silkily down his profile. The droplets of water and sweat still on his skin and dewily in his eyelashes. The slight coarseness of his skin, the tones of it. The muscles that pulled his lips into the slightest nuance of a romantic smile. Any loose strands of damp hair which pressed to his forehead.

But she thought he was pretty sweet, and if he'd done what Jake had earlier in the day, she would have melted like butter for him.

She almost hated the atmosphere between them, building up into what it was. It was unprofessional, and she knew full well she shouldn't feel the way she did, and yet it wasn't so easy to deny.

"Do you think I should go back to being your boss now? Or stick around for a game of pool?" Bradley looked to the woman. "Cos I reckon I could win back the cost of my round." She smiled a mischievous smirk.

Rooster just gave a smile and shrug. He wanted to tell her he liked it when she wasn't his boss. He'd especially be lying if he didn't like the idea of what he could do if they were both people with less professional integrity.

Her smile grew and she held in place for a second, before she jumped off of her barstool and put her hand on his arm, or went to. Actually she held his wrist and he allowed himself to be lead to the pool table, acutely aware of the placement of her hand and savoured it before she let go and before anyone else seemed to notice their closeness for that one second.

By the end of the night (Y/n) had won fifty dollars total and had finally felt like she'd made some sort of ground in actually getting to know her team.

And for once she enjoyed herself.

And at the end of the night, when they all had to admit they'd drunk just enough to let their inhibitions go and enough to head home...

Standing in the parking lot of the Hard Deck, the sun hadn't fully set. There was a sweet honey glow in the sky.

She stood waiting for her cab, leaning on the wall by the door, a little tipsy smile on her face.

She thought she was alone, Penny and Mav weren't in sight but couldn't have been far away. She was sure she'd seen everyone make their own ways home, and she just closed her eyes and felt the buzz of the alcohol and the slightest tingle on her lips as she chewed them.

For a second she thought she was dreaming as she heard the twinkle of a piano.

It took her a good few seconds to realise that it was coming from inside, shifting between tunes she recognised, from Auld Lang Syne, to Paul Simon, Bad Moon Rising and Queen and then finally it settled into something.

She stepped into the doorway and observed quietly, but with a flutter in her chest and a heat in her cheeks. He had no idea she was there.

"Sugar-" She heard in a familiar, mumbled, singing voice. "Ah- Honey, honey-" She could hear the smile on Bradley's face though she couldn't see it from the angle she was at. "You are my candy girl, and you got me wanting you."

She stepped in, knowing the drink meant she wasn't thinking about her job and what she should or shouldn't do.

The creak of the floor boards as she did make him glance up for just a moment.

"Honey, Ah-sugar, sugar." He continued on, as she got closer and eventually came to stand by him, leaning on the piano with a shine in her eye.

His voice drifted off as his eyes drifted to her and his fingers were slowly distracted from playing.

He pulled them away from the keys as they were wordlessly magnetised to eachother, he reached out and placed his hand ever so gently on her waist, and she just stepped into the touch.

He had turned on the paino stool, now perpendicular to the keyboard and looking up at her.

His large hands, warm but worked and not soft, guided her hips forward, into him.

Soon she had straddled him, and they were entangled in a hot and sweet affair.

He tasted sweet, sweeter than she could have dreamed. Maybe that was just the element of risk and inherent risque nature of their actions as she pressed her fingertips into his jaw, and felt his on her waist, hips and over her own hands as he held them in place.

Rooster could have been manipulated like clay by her. Enough drink was in the two of them that it wasn't shameful, and the fuzz and electricity in their stomachs and throats and fingertips was amplified by a hundred.

That was until (Y/n) felt a lump rise in her throat, she felt her heart beat just that bit harder in her chest, and she just wanted it to be harder to breathe and harder to tear herself away and she wanted everything a young woman might want.

She felt a pang of momentary sobriety which brought all the morals and rules and fears flooding back into her mind.

Then she paused, her hands cupping his cheeks, and just pulled away.

She breathed, and looked the young pilot in the eye.

"I think-" She whispered as he looked up at her with sparkling puppydog eyes, desperate, hungry and achingly, deeply wanting. "Bradley- I think- I'd better go back to being-" She tried to speak the words though they felt quite torturous.

"My superior?" He finished for her.

She nodded.

"Yes." She half whispered, part breathed and nearly simply mouthed.

She let him move to softly place his hands over hers, pull them from his cheeks with a sigh.

He looked down as he held her hands.

He turned them slowly and nodded.

"Right." He turned a slight smile up to her.

She backed off, and headed to the door with a sweet smile shared between them.

"(Y/n)?" Rooster called out.

"Mhm?" She glanced back at him, trying not to let on how she wished she could turn that part of herself off that made her stop and go back to him.

"Sorry." He spoke, not having moved a muscle. She shook her head and mouthed a 'don't be' to him as she did. "No- I know I should have thought about it first, but I don't want this to- to affect anything. Not the mission, or anything else." He was incredibly genuine. "I'm sorry."

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