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#which are making angry duck sounds

marvelfilth · 2 months

Text

Her idiot

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x f!reader

Warnings: none

Summary: your night out with Thor and Valkyrie leaves Natasha worried unimpressed.

Masterlist

“Nat-”

“No.”

“But-”

“But no.”

“Just let me-”

“Shut up.”

Your mouth promptly snaps shut, the sound of teeth clattering echoing through the empty Compound.

You're being dragged to Natasha’s room, or you hope you are - you wouldn't put it past Natasha to lock you in one of the holding cells in the basement. You kinda deserve it. You can admit that even in your current inebriated state.

She drags you upstairs once you reach the end of the hallway, your shoes squeaking on the concrete, making you grimace with each step you make.

You're also starting to get cold.

You're not stupid enough to tell her that.

Wanda's head pokes out of her room, her eyes bleary with sleep and her expression pure confusion. Her eyes grow twice their size once she sees the state you're in. And then she laughs, shaking her head.

“You're so dead,” she whispers when you pass by and ducks back into her room lest Natasha unleashes her wrath on her.

You gulp.

Yeah.

You probably are.

Natasha halts her stride, opens the door to her room, and pushes you inside.

“You better not get any of that on my carpet,” she growls, tugging off your drenched shirt.

You're thankful you've had enough of a mind to leave your heavy winter coat by the lake before you decide to-

“Off.” Natasha gestures at your feet, putting a stop to your musings. You shrug off your dirty boots, carefully leaving them by the door. As carefully as you can, that is. The room is spinning a bit, and Natasha's face is a little blurry around the edges.

Then, she tugs down your jeans, making you wince as the harsh wet fabric slides down your legs. She looks at you, unimpressed.

“Sorry,” you whisper, hugging yourself.

You're starting to shake, a little bit. And your teeth won't stay put. Or is it your jaw?

Natasha sighs and leads you to the bathroom. It's already full of steam and the bath is full of bubbles, and you sag in relief, almost tearing off your underwear in haste to jump in.

You moan the second you sink into the warmth.

“You do know how stupid that was, right?”

You nod, wishing you could hide from her gaze.

“Then why?”

Your cheeks redden, not from the warmth, but from the sheer embarrassment. Now that you've sobered a little, none of the fun and entertaining ideas Thor and Valkyrie proposed sound fun and entertaining.

She sighs again, and starts gently threading her fingers through your hair, untangling the knots she finds there.

“You're not drinking with them ever again.”

“Okay.”

“And you're not going anywhere near that damned lake anytime soon.”

You wince at the memory of falling through the thin layer of ice after successfully making it halfway across the lake - just like Thor dared you to - and then swimming under said thin layer of ice the remaining half of the way and emerging on the other side, right in front or very angry and very concerned Natasha.

You're probably gonna-

“And you're sleeping on the couch.”

-sleep on the couch. Yep.

“Yes, ma'am.”

“You're an idiot.”

“I am.”

She snorts. “It's very hard to stay mad when you're being so pliant.”

You bite on your lower lip, keeping a bashful grin from emerging. You decide to test your luck when the fond glint in your girlfriend's eyes intensifies.

“So no couch for me, then?”

Her eyes narrow, lips pursing. “You can sleep on the floor if you'd like.”

No luck. Ugh.

“Okay. Couch it is.”

She hums, leaving your side to retrieve a warm fluffy tower. You get up, almost falling into Natasha's arms when you slip. She wraps the towel around your shoulders, holding you against her chest.

“I love you,” you mumble into the crook of her neck, your body buzzing with love, warmth and remnants of alcohol. “So much.”

“And I love you. Even when you're being an idiot, which is-”

“Always?” You interrupt with a grin, pulling away just a tad to see the expression on her face.

Her eyes sparkle in the low light, the lines of her face all soft. “Yes. Always.”

#natasha romanoff x fem!reader #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x you #black widow x you #black widow x reader

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my-love-is-sunlight · 3 months

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one piece men react to you screaming their full name

ft. Ace, Zoro, Sanji

SFW, mentions of alcohol and smoking, gn reader

Masterlist

𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑ .ᐟ ᡣ𐭩

Ace

“PORTGAS D. ACE” your voice resonates through all the walls, rooms and every nook and cranny from the Moby Dick. The mentioned stood frozen at the dinner table fork still full of food, he knew better than to run away

“What did you do now?” Marco asked eyes wide open

“Nothing!… that I remember” Ace scratched the back of his head trying to make memory of his recent activities, searching for whatever may had upset you

Marco laughed in disbelief “You’re a dead man” he said before taking another sip of his drink

You entered the room, stomping your way to your clueless boyfriend “May I have a word with you?” The tone and the politeness of the sentence made Marco fear for his dear friend. Ace nodded before he stood up and followed behind smile beaming in hopes you’ll have some mercy. A chorus of teasing ‘UUUUH’s were heard as you exited the dining room.

“Have I told you how radiant you look today?” Ace leaned over to kiss your cheek but you ducked making him loose his balance

“Don’t start with me Portgas” a shiver ran down Ace’s back, both from fear and… something else.

“You did this” you held a pillow cover in front of his face “You burned my only bed sheets, and you’re getting me new ones even if you end up in debt with everyone on this ship”

Ace was attracted to you all the time, but there was something in the way you would always stand your ground and how gorgeous you looked right now that was knocking him out of his feet. He placed his hand in the one were you held the pillow cover and pulled you in for a hug

“Im sorry sweetheart I’d get you new ones on the next island, you can borrow mine for now” you rolled your eyes and sighed, he got you wrapped all around his finger and he knew it, you couldn’t be mad at him for long

“Of course I’m taking yours, you sleep at my bed every night anyways… but wash them first” Ace picked you up and pampered your face with kisses “You look so hot when you’re angry

Zoro

“RORONOA ZORO” you screamed while exiting to the deck where he was working out, all of the straw hats looked back at Zoro in fear, Sanji holding in a laugh

Few things made this man flinch but he couldn’t help but catch himself lose balance when he heard his full name exit your lips in such an angry tone followed by your big stumps getting louder as you got closer

Everyone wrapped up whatever they were doing and ran off to the kitchen, leaving Zoro to face his demise alone

“What now?” He played it off trying to sound as nonchalant as he could not even looking your direction

“How many times have I asked you to not leave your sake around my desk?” If looks could kill your boyfriend would be a dead man

“Where am I supposed to put it then?” He scoffed crossing his arms in front of his chest, he looked at you for a second and his heart clenched at the cute way your brows furrowed and your arms rested on your hips

“Oh! I don’t know maybe, just getting silly here, IN THE PANTRY WHERE IT BELONGS!” Zoros condecency was driving you insane making your tone scale

The swordsman noticed how you were getting tense and teardrops threaten to run down your cheeks, he sighed a little embarrassed he had made you this upset. He cupped your cheeks while he apologized in that soft tone he reserved just for you

“I’m sorry I forgot to put it away last night, it won’t happen again I promise” he drew comforting circles around your cheek as he whispered

“It got all over my notebooks” oh so that’s why you were so shaken up

“I’ll clean it up baby” your boyfriend kissed your forehead as he made his way to the kitchen for a towel, as he opened the door every crew member fell comically on top of each other, they were ears dropping as they do.

Before Zoro could complain, your sweet laugh was heard at the distance which made him smile a little “You should listen to her mosshead” Sanji muttered which made the swordsman’s smile drop and scream back at him

Sanji

“BLACK LEG SANJI” even though you were screaming at him, the cook couldn’t help but feel his heart flutter at the way you wouldn’t use his birth last name as you knew he despised it and what it stand for, instead raging while using his public name.

You stormed in the kitchen eyes fixed on him, even angry Sanji thought you were breathtaking

“Yes my world?” he beamed a smile at you which you didn’t know if it annoyed or charmed you

“What have I said about smoking indoors?” Sanji felt the air get stuck in his throat, his eyes drifted from yours in shame

“I uhm-“ he laughed nervously as you got closer and closer cornering him against the counter, both hands caging him while they rested on said counter

“You know damn well I hate when my clothes smell like cigarettes, now imagine how I feel when my whole room stinks” you grabbed Sanjis tie to move his face closer to yours without breaking eye contact, you knew exactly what to do to make him a nervous wreck

The blondes heart couldn’t help but skip several beats at the way you were acting right now, he felt bad about upsetting you but he could get used to this side of you

“My apologies love, you know I cant manage to go without a smoke and sometimes I don’t want to leave your side” he twitched when his gaze met yours as he tried to explain himself

“Well you better start to manage” with a torturous slow move you took the cigarette that hanged from your boyfriends lips and threw it on the floor before stepping on it to take it out “Or I’ll move out of the room” you smiled teasingly while exploring his handsome features, stopping at his lips.

The cook turned all shades of red and pink breathing heavily, squirming a “Yes ma’m” before you kissed him passionately and breaking it abruptly

You winked at him before leaving the poor poor man absolutely stunted and a hot mess

𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑ .ᐟ ᡣ𐭩

Hi! This is my first time doing this type of format so tell me what you think and feel free to request. English is not my first language so correct me if I made any mistakes.

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ohbo-ohno · 7 months

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Kinktober Day 24 - Sex Toy(s)

Ghost x Reader - 1.5k (on ao3)

summary: Ghost is focused solely on your pleasure when he comes home. (Reader POV)

cw: overstimulation

note: this is basically just a ghost version of my soap x reader from day 2, so if you like this consider checking that out!

Ghost is always greedy when he first comes home from deployment.

You can’t help but feel a bit bad about how… you-centered the sex always is, but it’s hard to complain when he holds you down by the thighs and feasts on your cunt for hours on end. Seriously - you’d thought you might die of dehydration the first time you passed out and woke up to him still buried between your legs. He’s a demon.

Simon’s not a particularly open man, and you haven’t been together long enough to justify pushing for more from him, but as best you can gather (or assume), he goes from laser-focused on whatever missions they’ve got him doing to laser-focused on you.

All that militaristic focus, all the desire to serve, focused right on you. Sometimes it feels like you might drown beneath the pure force of him, but he drags you back up.

You’re having fun with whatever this thing between you and Simon is. At some point you know you’ll have to either cut it off or push for more, but for now you’re content to see him for just a few days every few months.

And, well… it’s easy to let yourself get dragged into him when he is home.

You never gave him a key, but somehow you’re unsurprised when you come home from work one day to see him relaxed on the couch, mask already pulled up to his nose.

You’re even less surprised when you’re pinned to the wall hardly a heartbeat later.

You certainly don’t mind - Simon’s a fucking fantastic kisser, all nipping bites and harsh sucks, pressing his whole weight into your face while he holds your body flush with his. The two of you stumble against each other as you make your way to the bedroom, falling into the walls.

You jerk away from him at the sound of a picture falling, just managing to glance over your own shoulder. “Simon!” You scold, slapping his shoulder when he lifts you up the wall and glues himself to your neck.

“I’ll… fix… it…” he promises between bites, sucking hickies across the column of your throat. You’d like to snap something back at him, but he manages to find every spot that makes you melt. It’s impossible to complain, so you decide you’ll get him back later and wrap your legs around his waist.

“You better,” you still manage, ducking low until you can find his lips and drag his attention back to your mouth.

The next minutes flash by as he carries you to the bedroom, slowly stripping each of you of your clothes. You find yourself dropped onto the bed in only your granny panties, Simon nearly tripping over himself as he tries to kick his jeans off.

You can’t help but giggle at the sight of this big strong military man falling over himself to get to you. “Need some help there?”

He glares as he finally gets his pants off and crawls over you, but the little spark in his eyes dulls the anger. “Just lay there all pretty, don’t need you to do anything here.”

You snort at that, situating yourself comfortably against your pillows. “Did you miss me, or just my body?” You smile at him to show you’re not angry, that you don’t mind that this is the extent of your relationship for now.

He holds himself above you with a hand on your thighs, presses an uncharacteristically soft kiss to your lips. You’re nearly positive you hear him whisper “Both,” before he pulls away, but you don’t get a chance to ask about it before he’s diving between your thighs.

Here’s the thing with Simon - he doesn’t eat you out to make you feel good, he does it because he likes it. Which means that he very rarely warms you up, instead just dives tongue first into your core and feasts.

You and your needs become secondary to his hunger for your body, and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

It’s easy to melt into the pillows, resting one hand on the back of his head for just a bit more contact as he forces your thighs to the mattress, holding you spread open for himself.

He moans nearly as loudly as you do when he first dips his tongue inside of your hole, his eyes rolling back in his head.

“Missed this,” you pant, scratching lightly at his scalp.

He pulls away for half a second, shooting you a look that you can’t quite decipher. “Me, or my mouth?”

That shocks a sharp laugh out of you, and you catch the smile playing at his lips before he buries his face between your folds again.

“You’re…” you pant, shifting against his tongue when it flicks just right over your clit. “You’re a hell of a lot better than- than my vibrator. Less expensive than batteries, too.”

He lifts his head again - a bit shocking, since he usually ignores all of your sounds when he first comes home like this - and you can see an eyebrow cock beneath the mask. “You have a vibrator?”

You give him an unimpressed look. “I’m a grown woman, Simon. Of course I have a vibrator.”

He ignores the snark in your tone and pushes himself up to his knees. “Where?”

You wiggle underneath him, trying to draw his attention back to your dripping center. “Why does it matter? You’re here now, so c’mon-”

He lands a sharp blow on your inner thigh, making you yelp and then pout up at him.

“Faster you tell me, faster I get back to making you come.”

You sigh, knowing he’s not going to leave this alone. “Fine, it’s in the top drawer of my nightstand - you know, where everyone keeps their sex toys?”

He gives you another harsh tap as he leans over. “Less sass,” he rumbles, digging through the drawer.

“You wouldn’t be here if you didn’t like my sass.”

He doesn’t respond, which strikes you as slightly odd, but you brush it off when he settles back between your legs with your hitachi in hand.

You raise your eyebrows as he settles onto his stomach, shifting so he’s eye-level with your pussy. He spends a few long moments fiddling with the hitachi, flicking between different speeds and vibrations. He’s so focused on the toy that you can’t help but giggle.

“Having fun?”

He looks back up to you, a rare smile fully lifting lips. “Y’won’t be gigglin’ like that in a few minutes, love.”

You hum, shifting your knees a little higher to spread yourself further open. “Big words, Si. Sure you can live up to it?”

It’s both the wrong and right thing to say - wrong because his eyes narrow and you just know he’s going to destroy your pussy, and right for the same reason.

You let yourself go boneless when he laves his tongue up your center, letting yourself fully relax into the pleasure. Sometimes Simon will spend hours working you up just to refuse to let you come, but never when he’s first home. You doubt he’ll break his pattern now.

And he doesn’t. He gets you off once before he even uses the vibrator, two fingers inside of your hole stroking against your g-spot while his tongue flicks over your clit quickly, drawing you right into a shivery orgasm that has your nerves sparking.

He doesn’t let you come down before you hear the soft buzzing or the hitachi, and then the near painful buzzing right against your overworked clit.

You nearly shoot up the bed, mouth open and eyes wide at the shock of pleasure. It almost hurts so soon after your first orgasm, rush after rush of sensation sending you toppling over another peak before you’re even aware.

“Not gigglin now, hm?” You hear him say, but you’re too drained to bother snapping back past a little tug to his hair. He pushes his fingers into you more harshly at that, and you moan again.

You carry on like that for what could be hours, for all you know. He alternates between using his tongue to thrust into you and sucking your clit between his lips to give you a break from the wand.

You’re sure that he mutters a few things every time you reach that deliciously horrible climax, but the blood rushing through your head and the low sound of vibrations blocks his voice out. All you can really hear - all you can really feel is the pleasure, the way your thighs shake by your sides, the drool slipping past your lips, the slick spreading across your thighs.

It’s a special kind of torture. The wand doesn’t get tired like Simon’s jaw, it’s merciless against your most sensitive parts, and Simon has no qualms with holding you down and forcing you to take it all for him. It’s both horrible and heavenly, painful and euphoric.

At some point, the world goes dark. You let yourself slip into a half-asleep state, knowing that you’ll wake up in the same position, your favorite military man glued to your pussy.

#sorry this is late it Bored me #ghost cod #call of duty fanfic #cod fanfic #kinktober #kinktober day 24 #bo writes #ghost x you #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #kinktober 2023 #ghost riley x reader

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writeforfandoms · 5 months

Text

Let It Snow

Find my John Price masterlist

This is for @glitterypirateduck winter challenge! I took inspiration from the song Let It Snow, because who wouldn't want to use this man as a source of warmth. Really.

John Price is your neighbor. Just your friendly neighbor. Nothing more.

At least, until the heat in your flat dies.

Warnings: Swearing, fluff, sweetness overload, really this is all just cute and fluff.

Word count: 2.5k

You still weren't quite sure how you'd fallen into this thing with John Price. You'd moved in to the flat next to his, the shared wall between the two of you giving you only hints of his life. Mostly, there was silence.

But sometimes there was the rumbling of a deep, lovely voice. Singing. The muted sounds of a TV. Music.

The first time you talked to him, you were coming back from a date that had ended badly. You still weren't sure whether to be angry or upset, and had settled on some potent mixture of the two.

John Price was standing outside, shirtsleeves rolled up past his elbows, heedless of the chill of the evening. He nodded once to you, gaze sweeping over you.

“Evening,” he greeted, neutral pleasant.

“Hi.” You managed a smile. “Haven't had the chance to introduce myself yet.” You held out a hand to him, giving him your name.

“John Price.” He shook your hand, firm but not painful. Quick.

“Nice to finally meet you.” You glanced beyond him to your door, the temptation to cry rising as upset won over anger. “Hate to run, but…”

“Of course.” He stepped back, out of the way. “Have a good night.”

You bit your tongue to keep the bitter words trapped, simply nodding to him before stepping past him. Your hands only shook a little as you unlocked your door and stepped inside.

You kept your emotions to yourself until you showered, hot as you could stand. Then you allowed yourself some release.

After that, it became much more common to see him, at least when he was home. You passed him frequently when you came home, and once or twice he rescued you by getting the door when you had bags of groceries.

The two of you circled each other, pleasant and friendly and not much else.

Despite his charm, despite his kindness, despite his obvious good looks… you couldn't believe anything more. He was friendly, and that was all. He was neighborly, and that was all.

Even if he was good-looking. Even if the way he looked at you made you both self-conscious and want to preen. Even if you developed a little crush on him despite your best intentions.

And you held on to those thoughts all the way up until your heater broke.

You stood in the middle of your flat, shivering, bundled up in layers and silently cursing the snow outside. And cursing the landlord, who promised he'd get the heater fixed… in a couple days. Three, or maybe four. But you'd be fine, right?

Which left you seething and debating the merits of buying a space heater, if you could find one. It was late in the season, but maybe you'd be lucky…

The knock on your door startled you, and you about jumped out of your skin. Who…? Frowning, you stepped forward slowly, hands trembling from the cold and nerves.

John Price stood outside your door, arms crossed loosely in front of his chest.

“John?” You blinked at him. “Can I help you?”

“Actually, might be able to help you.” He scratched at the hair on his jaw, brilliant blue eyes holding you captive as easily as breathing. “Heard something ‘bout your heater through the wall.”

You warmed, ducking your head briefly, even though you knew you had nothing to be ashamed of. “Ah. Heard that, huh?” You huffed a little laugh, shaking your head. “Sorry, I forget how thin these walls are sometimes.”

“Don't fret,” John assured you. “I'd offer to take a crack at your heater but I might make it worse.”

You smiled, torn between amusement and embarrassment. “It's fine, I think I'll just go find a space heater.”

John paused, not moving from your doorway, one hand hooked at the collar of his shirt, gaze fixed on you. “Or,” he offered slowly, weighing each word as he spoke. “You can stay at mine.”

You blinked. Twice. “...Beg pardon?” You must have misunderstood him. There was no way–

“I've got a second bedroom,” he said, shrugging, like it was nothing. Like it was that easy. “You're welcome to it. Be awful cold without heat.”

You swallowed. That was… a lot. And far too generous. “I couldn't, that's too kind.”

His lips quirked in a smile, the first real one you'd seen from him. “Yes you can,” he countered. “It's just a few days, yeah? Won't bother me, I wouldn't have offered otherwise.”

You bit your lip, torn. It would be warmer to stay with him, and cheaper. “Are you sure?”

“I'm sure.” He even nodded for emphasis, holding your gaze.

“Okay.” You breathed in slowly. “Thank you, I appreciate it.”

“Gather up whatever you need,” he said, something pleased in the tilt of his lips. “Just knock when you're ready.”

“Thanks.” You waited until he stepped back and turned towards his own door to close your door.

Not that it helped at all with the temperature.

Clenching your jaw and trying not to think about it, you grabbed a bag and some clothes. You weren't going to impose on him any more than necessary - you'd come back to shower and take care of your own things. And you'd be fine at work.

Your first knock on the door was tentative, almost too soft. You shifted your weight from foot to foot, a little anxious. You knew enough about John Price to trust that he wasn't a crazy murderer, or anything like that. He'd always been friendly.

You were mostly sure you could trust him.

The door opened, warmth spilling out over your half-frozen fingers. John had shed his jacket, leaving him in a soft-looking shirt that clung to his chest in ways you tried not to notice.

“C'mon in.” He stepped out of the way, ushering you in. You couldn't help but shiver as the warmth of his flat cocooned you, your skin tingling where it was exposed. “Bedroom's this way.”

You followed him quietly, though you couldn't help but look around curiously. The flat was sparse but clean, walls mostly bare. Simple furniture in the main room, very little decoration.

It felt a little impersonal… except for the book on the couch, the couple dishes in the sink.

John led you back to the bedroom, nodding you inside. The bed was made up all in pale blue, with an extra blanket folded at the foot of the bed. Honestly, this was better hospitality than you'd gotten from some family members.

“Thank you, really.” You paused in the doorway, still clutching your bag.

He smiled again, easy as anything. “My pleasure. Get warmed up, I've got the kettle on.”

You couldn't help but smile at his retreating back. He was too kind.

It didn't take long to warm up enough to be comfortable, and you even shed a layer to be more comfortable. “Should I keep my shoes on?” You called from the doorway, uncertain. You couldn't recall if he'd been wearing any.

“Nah, leave ‘em.”

You kicked your shoes off but left your socks, padding out to the kitchen to a charmingly domestic scene. John stood with one hip leaned against the counter, mug in one big hand, another steaming gently in front of him. He was also wearing socks, thick gray ones.

“Got milk and sugar, if you'd like.” He nodded to the mug to be clear what he meant.

“Thanks.” You fixed your cuppa and clutched it between your hands, fingers tingly-hot as they finally fully thawed. “Can I at least treat you to dinner?”

He tipped his head down a little, smiling. “Won’t say no to that,” he murmured.

Discussing food was surprisingly easy with him. He seemed happy to go along with whatever you wanted, although true to his word he didn't argue with you about paying.

The first night passed easily, with bits of conversation between the two of you. You caught him looking at you more than once, something soft in his gaze. Like he couldn't believe you were here.

You warmed under that gentle gaze, the little embers you'd tried to smother in your heart catching and trying to grow.

Two days passed in the same kind of ease. His flat was bigger than yours, and set up backwards as far as you were concerned. The second time you opened a door expecting the loo and got the linen closet you swore loudly. John just laughed at you, leading to a round of playful bickering.

(“It's not my fault that this is all backwards!”

“Well perhaps if you looked before you opened the door you'd realize it was on the wrong side.”

“Perhaps if this place was oriented correctly I wouldn't have to.”)

The two of you got along quite well, better than you'd expected. Better than you'd ever hoped. The ease with which the two of you conversed fanned the little flames secreted in your heart.

The fourth morning was clear and cold, faint light coming through the window in your room. You dressed, even more glad to be in John's nice warm flat when a perfunctory look out the window showed snow still falling.

“Morning,” John greeted you, flashing you a smile, hair still a little rumpled from sleep. You tried not to be charmed.

(It didn't work, you were hopelessly charmed by him.)

“Good morning.” You couldn't help but smile at the sight of him. “How long have you been up?”

“Couple hours. Tea?”

You hummed your assent, though you drifted to the kitchen window to look outside. Snow drifted down in fat flakes, languidly coating the world in white. “How long has it been coming down?”

“Started in the middle of the night.” John pulled out the mug you were beginning to think of as yours. “Don't have to go anywhere today, do you?”

“Fortunately, no.” You shivered at the thought of having to go out in the cold. You kind of hated when it got this cold - the snow was pretty but ice made for treacherous commutes to work. “You?”

“No.” The mug clinked as he set it next to you. “Got everything I need here.”

You turned, just catching the tail end of his teasing little smile as he stepped back. You blinked at him but didn't push, not quite sure if you wanted to know.

Tea was perfect to keep you warm, and you settled near John. He shifted enough to press his knee to yours, and you just relaxed into it.

He'd gotten you used to little touches over the last few days, and you didn't quite want to admit how much you loved it.

“Care to make a day of it, then?”

You blinked at John, curious. “What do you have in mind?”

“We could watch that movie you've been wanting to watch.” John's lips twitched in amusement. “More tea. Order in for lunch.”

“You're going to spoil me,” you teased, although you were only half teasing.

“Only if I'm doing it right.” He smirked, watching you as you ducked your head, fiddling with your mug.

“You don't have to, you know.” You looked at him out of the corner of your eye, gripping your mug a little tighter so you wouldn't fidget with it.

“What if I want to?” He tipped his head a little, watching you, blue eyes intense.

You warmed under that look but resisted the urge to hide. “Well… that would be a different story.”

Emboldened by your reaction, John moved closer, his thigh now pressed against the length of yours. “I'd like to spoil you for longer than just the few days it takes to get your heater fixed.”

“Would you really?” You blinked at him, a little incredulous and a fair bit flattered.

“I would.” One of his hands landed over yours, big and warm and calloused. “Would you let me?”

You swallowed. Part of you wanted to say yes, wanted to bask in the warmth of him, wanted to give in. But you were scared. There were so many things that could go wrong…

“I don't know,” you whispered, your fingers curling under John's. “I could try.”

“That's all I ask.” He leaned a little closer to you, so close he could probably feel the thump of your heart. “Just need to talk to me, hm? Tell me if anything is too much.”

You nodded, swallowing, eyes wide as he held your gaze. “Okay.”

“Good.” He backed off again, slowly pushing to his feet. “Go get the movie set up, I've got tea handled.”

You blinked, feeling almost bereft as he stepped away. But you shook the feeling off, instead going to the couch to set up the movie.

It only occurred to you long minutes later, when John brought your tea fixed how you liked, that you'd gotten very comfortable here very quickly. But so had John. He'd learned your preferences faster than you'd expected.

“Warm enough?” He asked, voice a low purr as he settled next to you.

“Yeah,” you answered, which was mostly true. Your feet were chilly, but that was manageable.

He eyed you for a moment, and you had the feeling he knew exactly what you didn't say. But he didn't say a word, just grabbed a throw blanket off the back of the couch and draped it over your lap, fussing over you in a way totally foreign to you.

Foreign… but nice.

Halfway through the movie John paused it to discuss lunch. You ended up not ordering in - snow was coming down harder now, a thick coating of white obscuring streets and sidewalks. Neither of you wanted to go out, or force anyone else out.

“We'll find something here,” you said with a shrug, unconcerned. “I've got food at mine, too.”

John hummed, one arm settling around your waist. “Could do cheese toasties.”

“Are you offering to cook for me?” You couldn't help your smile, or the way you leaned in closer to him.

“Can’t make anything fancy,” he murmured, smile small but warm. “But I can do this.”

That smile finally did you in. You kissed him. Nothing more than a brief press of your lips to his, just enough to feel the warmth and pressure, the gentle scratch of facial hair. He looked a little stunned when you pulled back… for all of two seconds. Before he kissed you again, one big hand cupping your cheek.

“Is this okay?” He whispered when he pulled back, scant space between the two of you.

“More than,” you assured him, hands resting against his chest.

He hummed, the sound vibrating against your hands, and kissed you again.

If this is what him spoiling you looked like… Well. You could get used to this.

Even if it kept snowing like this. You weren't worried about being cold anymore.

#john price x reader #john price x you #f!reader #codholiday2023

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uneditedidiot · 10 months

Text

i can see you - jamie tartt x reader

jamie tartt x gn!reader

summary: Jamie can’t stop imagining you pressed up against the wall and his mouth on yours…will he act on it? Based off the song I Can See You by Taylor Swift from Speak Now Taylor’s Version.

word count: 1.4k

Warnings: COULD be considered NSFW so maybe MDNI (18+) just in case, implied smut, Jamie pining after you, language

A/N: I started this the day Speak Now TV came out, but I didn’t get the chance to finish it until now cause I was moving and didn’t have internet. This gets a LITTLE spicy, so enjoy. :) also THIS GIF 👀

’Cause I can see you waiting down the hall from me

And I could see you up against the wall with me

And what would you do?

Baby, if you only knew

That I can see you

Well…Jamie was fucked.

You stood down the hall from him talking with Keeley about the big press conference coming up for the team, making sure you’d scheduled everything for the boys that you needed to.

Jamie couldn’t hear the conversation, just stood gazing at you with a soft expression by the water fountain. He’d told himself that staring probably wasn’t the best idea, as you had a rule that you didn’t date people on the team, but he couldn’t help himself. Everything you did, everything you said, even how you moved…he was hopelessly in love with you.

He had imagined this scenario at least a hundred times. You’d walk down the hall to him. He’d wrap his arms around you, one hand on the back of your neck, the other on the small of your back, and pull your lips to his. Then you’d slide your hands up over his shoulders, reciprocating the passionate kiss, and he’d walk you slowly backwards so that you were pressed against the wall at the mercy of his hands and mouth. And that’s where you would stay; bodies pressed together in a way that made you both want each other even more, ready to find an empty room at a moments’ notice. Then after you’d both spent at least an hour (if not more) drawing pleasurable experience out of pleasurable experience out from each other, you’d both confess your love for the other.

He shook himself out of this enchanting imaginary moment when he saw you laugh at something Keeley said, pat her shoulder, and start walking down the hall towards him.

“Fuck,” he hissed as he noticed you notice him staring. He spun quickly on his heel, pretending to fill up his already full water bottle.

He heard your footsteps approaching, then silence as you came to a halt in front of him.

“Uh, you realize your bottle is already full, right?” you teased.

He glanced up, stopping the spout from sending more filtered water cascading over his hands into the drain. He felt his cheeks grow warm.

“Erm, can’t ever be too hydrated,” he heard himself stutter. “Coach Lasso is always gettin’ on me to drink more water, so…here I am doing that.”

You wrinkled your eyebrows in a confused smile, which sent butterflies fluttering about in his stomach. You were just so cute…

“Ted wanted me to let you know that he’s going to call you up to talk about your assists this month,” you told him. “And Roy wants to talk to you in his office after the conference. Something about…” You checked your phone, frowning in puzzlement. “...Uncle’s Day?”

“Shit,” he cursed. He averted his eyes bashfully. “Yeah, I might’ve…intruded a little on Phoebe’s holiday with him.”

You rolled your eyes good naturedly. “Oh come on, you know Roy. He acts like he’s some untouchable, rough-and-tumble, aggressive bear, but on the inside, he’s like a cute, angry little duck.”

Jamie let out a huge laugh. He was afraid it might have sounded too eager or loud. The self-conscious, nagging voice in his brain told him that it was dumb to laugh like that at such a small joke.

But you clearly enjoyed that he found your joke amusing. Your face went slightly pink, looking almost a little embarrassed.

“Should I tell Roy you’ve just compared him to a duck?” he joked.

You feigned an attitude but your smile was evident. “Alright. Go ahead. What would he do? Yell at me? He does that anyways.”

“Yellin’ is that man’s love language, I swear.”

“What’s yours?”

His breath caught in his throat. “What?”

You held his gaze confidently, eyes darkening slightly as you asked yet again, “What’s your love language?”

Jamie’s heart was stuttering. His brain had needed a moment to catch up to what you were asking.

“I, erm…” he stammered. His eyes bounced around, not able to meet yours. “For meself, it’s probably…eh, physical touch and, uh, words of affirmation.”

He finally was able to make eye contact. You clearly were paying attention, nodding as he finished speaking.

Jamie decided to be just as bold. “I told you mine, so you tell me yours.”

You smiled back. “Physical touch and quality time.”

He smirked, flirting back. “I’ll make sure to keep that in mind.”

“I’d hope so,” you grinned, patting him lightly on the chest. Then without another word, you walked back down the hall, glancing back a few times to make sure he was watching. His chest tingled where you’d touched him.

Oh MAN…Jamie was really fucked now. Had you been thinking of the same things?

He questioned the interaction over and over again in his mind throughout the rest of that day. He knew he was distracted, especially during the press conference. Ted had to get his attention multiple times so he could answer questions that had just been asked of him.

But after the conference was over and the work day had ended, Jamie decided to act on things.

He stood by the water fountain, waiting for you to come down the stairs to go home. He tapped the top of the cooler anxiously.

You’d both been very professional with each other up until that conversation earlier. He’d never been tempted this much to act on his feelings. He knew that if he had acted on them before, you’d have become an addiction for him, which he couldn’t afford at this point. But, again, that was before the flirty exchange about love languages earlier.

Footsteps.

There you were.

He inhaled sharply, butterflies in his stomach fluttering like mad.

He saw you appear, bag in hand, staring down at your phone as you stepped down from the last stair.

He called your name. You whipped around, puzzled. Your face lit up when you saw him.

“Jamie,” you said, “what are you still doing here? It’s like seven. I thought all the players had gone home.”

He smiled lightly, coming closer to you as he spoke. “There’s not many of us left. I think Sam and Isaac might still be here, but…I have something else I need to do before I leave.”

Your confused expression only grew. “And what’s that?”

He stopped right in front of you, faces inches apart. You made no effort to move away from him, just stared back at him. Your eyes flickered to his lips.

“This,” he replied softly.

Jamie crushed his lips to yours. The reciprocation from you was instant. You dropped your bag to the floor.

His hands wound around your body, hands caressing as much of you as possible. Your arms went up to his neck, one hand on the back of his head, the other over his shoulders.

Your mouths moved hungrily against each other, trying to feel as much of each other as possible. It was like rain had finally come after a drought. You both realized how much you’d wanted each other.

Jamie was licking into your mouth. You slid your hands to tug on the collar of his sweatsuit jacket. His fingers were tracing the sliver of skin between your t-shirt and jeans. Your whole body was on fire.

Jamie wasn’t thinking straight. He backed you into the wall of the hallway, pressing your body against his. There was no space between you at all. His knee moved between your legs, pressing up. You whined against his mouth. He smirked into the kiss and groaned.

This was exactly what he had imagined so many times before.

His lips trailed off yours down your chin and neck. He licked and bit and kissed his way to your jugular. His left hand went up the back of your shirt to trace your spine in an agonizingly delicious manner.

Your breathing was heavy, trying to find some relief on his knee as you ground down. His mouth was relentless on your neck. It was everything you’d wanted for so long.

You fiddled with the zipper of his jacket, pulling slowly down. His mouth was immediately back on yours, but he unzipped the jack quickly and slung it off.

He was only in a tank top, leaving his arms bare. You dug your fingernails into his biceps as he kissed over your jaw to behind your ear. He felt fireworks under his skin where you traced.

You let out an involuntary moan. He pulled away, grinning widely, lips still inches from yours.

“Shhhh,” he whispered. “Can’t have you alerting everyone here what we’re doin’, love. Not a sound...”

You pulled his lips to yours again.

In between kisses, you suggested hoarsely, “boot room?”

Jamie pulled back again. You could feel his breath against your chin. “Are you sure?”

You nodded, blushing, still giving him some of your signature sass. “Obviously. I wouldn’t be suggesting it if I wasn’t.”

He pecked your lips once more, grabbing your hands and immediately leading you away to the boot room to act the rest of his fantasy…and yours.

#jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt x gn!reader #jamie tartt imagine #jamie tartt fanfiction #jamie tartt #ted lasso fanfiction #ted lasso (show)#ted lasso imagine #jamie tartt x y/n #jamie tartt x you #i can see you #speak now tv #i can see you imagine #uneditedidiot #ted lasso #jamie tartt fluff #jamie tartt fic

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hoshigray · 1 year

Text

So here's the scenario: Toji is your hot dilf apartment neighbor. You moved in next door to him, and you two hit it off as good neighbors ought to be. You're already in a relationship, but that "unfortunately" leads to a rocky end. But have no fear because Toji is here!

A/n: Just a lil' smthn I have to write out for a fic I'm about to write and not post bc I'm hella busy this week;;;w;;; But anyways, here we go, and I hope you enjoy! This was a lil rushed so sorry for typos or incorrect grammar!!

Cw: soft dom! Toji x fem! reader - it gets cute the first half but smutty the next, so minors DNI - makeout session - daddy kink - pet names (baby, good girl, mama/ma, sweetheart, sweetie, princess) - praise - missionary position - his dick touches your cervix - mention of violence and blood on Toji's end.

Wc: 1.7k

Dilf! Neighbor Toji...

...who rolls his eyes when he realizes someone will live next door to his unit. You first meet him on the day you move, happily introducing yourself to the tall man. Once he saw you, Toji was captivated by your kind tone and inviting atmosphere.

...who slowly but surely gets to know you as the days go on. You share moments of your life, and he shares some of his. You find out about his children, Tsumiki and Megumi, who you propose to babysit if he ever needs it, which is considered. Toji is told about your boyfriend whom you've been seeing for a long while. He pulls back from this information, but that doesn't mean he can't look at you when he pleases.

...whose children are the sweetest around you. Tsumiki enjoys playing and being around you, while her younger brother, Megumi, practically follows your every move like a baby duck. The more you spend time with them, the more you play a role in their life, and Toji can't help and think what if you were in their lives.

...who briefly meets your boyfriend and immediately catches a bad vibe from him. When he doesn't call or text you back after literal days go by, when he doesn't give you a ride to work even though you'd do so for him, even Toji's kids avoid him when he's around.

Oh, but the worse case of all was when Toji caught that little devil bringing another woman inside your apartment.

He wanted to do nothing but screw that man's face down, painting the hall with his blood. But he knows you'd be horrified, or worse, faint at the petrifying scene. So now, he stays quiet and waits for the perfect time.

...who loves the beautiful sound of your angry voice through the walls, with your door bursting open and your boyfriend's feet scampering down the stairs. Toji opens his door to see you breathing heavily, tears leaking on your face that's hot with anger and shame.

It hurts him to see you so broken, so he brings you inside for a cup of tea. It's up to you whether to talk about the issue; he knew you only needed company.

...who notices you hang out with him and his family without having to invite you over. Rather than going to your own apartment, you spend more time in his, playing games with his kids and making lunch for them or watching over the place while he's off doing hitmen business (which you don't know about yet).

He's not complaining at all, though. He welcomes you and would rather you be by his side than some other bastard who'd break your heart again.

...who enjoys it when it's just you two. The two of you are watching a movie together at Toji's, and the kids are at a sleepover.

You're lying next to him, your head resting on his shoulder with his hand stationed on yours. The television had your attention for quite some time until you felt someone's eyes looming into you. As you turn to see Toji, his gaze captures your eyes, and a smirk is thrown your way.

"What are you smiling about?" You raise a brow at him and chuckle.

A brow is raised in return. "Ya know you're very pretty, right?"

You bashfully look away from him. "Oh, stop it," you mumble as you can feel your face get a little hot. Toji snickers, the rise and fall of his chest causes your stomach to do flips.

"C'mon, don't be like that." He grips your shoulder to bring you closer, and his free hand gently pulls your face back to him. "I mean it, sweetheart. You're so fuckin' beautiful. You don't know what you do to me."

Your breathing goes slower, and your eyes can't seem to leave his green orbs. "What do I do to you?" Your voice drops down into a whisper.

There are no words. The two of you stare at one another as the movie fills the silence.

Toji's eyes don't leave yours, gaze so sharp as if you aren't allowed to either. The uncomfortable lack of response was gnawing you alive, and all you could do was hope for something to end this.

And then something does happen. Toji moves his face close enough for your nose to lightly brush his. Your body went rigid.

His chuckles were too low for your brain to function in this situation. "Nervous, huh? Close your eyes, baby. I'll take care of you."

You blink. Is this really happening right now?

Hesitation is present, yet your eyelids curtain your eyes. Toji grins harder in satisfaction and fulfills your silent request as his lips land on your anticipating plump ones.

Jerking a little, you reciprocate and kiss him back, your hands placed on his chest for some support. He brings one hand down to your back while the other holds the back of your neck, deepening the kiss as his tongue governs over yours.

The kiss is broken, in addition to the shaky breaths you inhale to steady yourself. Toji peers at you through a haze, drinking in your soft expression and the cute whimpers.

He grins at you. "So beautiful fr' me, sweetie, so fuckin' beautiful." He kisses you again, and the sound you make when he bites your lip has him wanting more. "Damn..." Toji grabs the TV remote to mute the television and cups your face with his big hands. " C'mere, mama," he says, his lips taking control with lustful haste.

You yelp into his mouth when you lose your balance, and Toji takes the initiative to lay you on the couch. Comfortable with the new position, your hands can roam around his back that hides under the black turtleneck, and your legs hold onto his waist as he rocks into your throbbing core.

Toji is absolutely relishing this moment. All this time, he could only watch and respect your prior relationship. But the more you smiled at him, played and cared for his children, wished him luck on his missions, and even visited his late wife's grave to pay respects, his resistance was hanging by a thread bound to snap.

And now that he has you in his grasp, mewling and squirming under him and softly gasping out his name in ecstasy, Toji would be even more idiotic than your ex if he let such a darling like you whisk away after all you've done for him.

It took a few moments for the makeout session to end, the two of you gasping for air instantly. You look at Toji, only to be met with the most breathtaking picture of your life.

The light from the TV highlights a side of his face, with his lips a little swollen and red from all the kissing that transpired. Strands of his slick black hair gravitate downwards away from his forehead. His emerald eyes are hooded softly, but the intense gaze isn't hindered as the feeling of hunger is portrayed through them.

You chew the bottom of your lip in anxiousness, and Toji laughs breathlessly.

"See?" He caresses your cheek. "Told you I'd take care of you, princess."

...who can hear the vibration of your phone ringing on the bedroom floor, with the caller ID titled your ex's name. But it doesn't matter to Toji. No, sir. Because at this moment in time is when you deserve his full attention as you're crying and panting heavily under his bow, your figure pressed into the bed as he drives his cock deep inside of you.

Salty tears on your face are wiped away by his calloused fingers. "Hnnngh, shit, shit, shit," curses fly out through gritted teeth as he slows his pace down. "Haaaah, damn, baby. You're grippin' me so hard, I ain't goin' nowhere."

He has you under him in missionary, but it wasn't the first position of the night. You're in your third round, and your body is aching. Your lips are swollen and plump, your legs twitch around his sweaty body, and your abused vulva is now a slick-covered mess extending to your inner thighs. The base of his cock has formed a creamy ring, evidence of the connection between your sexes, along with the sounds of skin slapping against each other.

"Ahhhh, haaaah, Daddy, please—Mmmph!!" You feel the tip of his length brush your cervix, you clamp into him harder, and Toji hisses at your inner grasp around him.

His sultry voice is weighed with exhaustion, but his tone still affects you. "Fuck, ma, I'm gonna— Aishhhh, oh fuck," his groans fill your ears, and a shiver is sent down your spine. "Where do you want it, sweetie?"

"I-I'll take the pill! Ahhaaa, please, Daddy, inside, inside!" Your words are slurred, but you choke them out for him to hear your demands.

"Heh, of course, for being such a good girl fr' me, mama." Toji's thrusts get erratically faster and harsher, your poor cervix being abused by the merciless intrusion of his dick.

Your eyes roll upwards as you let yourself go. You spasm around his girth and wait for him to finish. Toji hammers into you a few more cruel thrusts and then exhales out of heavy groan, eyebrows scrunched together as he releases himself into you.

Once you two come down from your high, he slowly moves off you and pulls his cock out. The cold feeling of cum and slick mixed together dripping out of your puffy cunt has you gasping.

Toji presses his forehead against yours and praises you for being such a good girl. You let out a worn-out chuckle and kissed his nose. The two of you lay together for a bit, harnessing the sense of bliss and peace as your bodies sink into the mattress when sleep succumbs to you both.

...who looks forward to you moving into his unit permanently, as well as Tsumiki and Megumi, counting the days for you to always be beside them. You fit the role of a family member by bringing them together. Toji realizes this and enjoys the thought of you being with his family, especially when the worst comes to worst. And even then, he'd lay down his life for your and his family's sake.

When the time comes, maybe another little being can join this happy union you've created, and Toji will be fully prepared.

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autisticlancemcclain · 8 months

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“What the fuck do you think you’re doing.”

Vaguely, Lance registers that he’s far too loud, that his dead-of-night shout has people peeking out their doors, rubbing groggy eyes. He knows he should tone it down and handle this gracefully and he meant to, thought about it in the hour or so he spent crouched but his door, waiting, straining his ears for the sound of Keith’s silent footsteps, convinced something would go down tonight.

Correct.

Keith jumps, duffel bag slipping off his shoulder and thumping as it hits the floor. He whirls around to meet Lance’s eyes and the shock melts quickly into stubbornness, into something defensive and irritated.

“Go back to bed, Lance,” he says evenly, and Lance envisions punching him. Lance envisions gripping the sleeve of his jacket and holding him in place. Both visions fight for standing ground in his mind, blurring into each other. His fists curl at his sides and he has to hold himself back, physically, root himself in place.

He thinks about saying, I know you’re afraid.

He thinks about saying, you will always have a place here.

He thinks about saying, please don’t leave me.

He says, “You’re running,” and it comes out sharp and accusatory, and there is a hiss from somewhere beside them, quick inhale through the teeth, but the world feels narrow, blurry around the edges, and Keith is the only one in focus, the only one Lance can see.

Keith’s face drops into something menacing, something as flat as it is furious, something familiar and almost comforting.

“Coward,” Lance spits before he can say anything. The cruelty of the words leaves a bitter taste in his mouth and he relishes in it, sucking it off his teeth.

He watches as Keith’s shoulders shift, an aborted lunge, as his chest inhales and exhales with a measured and practice breath. Watches as he calms himself, visibly, yanks himself back from the edge. Lance prepares to yank him right the hell back.

(Anything to keep him from going. To distract him, enrage him, occupy him.)

(Anything to make him stay.)

“You don’t know a goddamn thing about me,” Keith says, angry and short, less fiery than Lance expected, more controlled than he’s ever seen.

Lance panics. Keith tears his eyes away and bends down, wrapping his hand around the forgotten duffel bag strap, swinging it back over his shoulder. He turns and walks — stomps — away, heading down the hall, towards the hangars. Leaving.

Lance loses control of his mouth. A sound fights its way out of his throat, something croaking and furious and desperate, and like a cork shooting off a champagne bottle there is nothing he can do to stop what comes next.

“Your voice cracks when you lie.”

The anger has practically fled from his voice. In its place is pleading, begging, vulnerable. He chokes it back and tries to swallow and it does nothing, it bubbles out of him, spilling down his face and dripping onto the floor and soaking his bare feet, the ankles of his silk pajama pants. It comes all the way back up to his neck and chokes him, instead.

Keith freezes.

The champagne keeps bubbling.

“You — duck your head when you smile. And when you’re confident you snap your fingers on your left hand. When you read you mouth along to the words, except when you get really into a book, which is always, and then you stop. You always end up hiccuping after you eat because you fucking — hoover them back, you animal.“

Lance sniffles. The lump in his throat gets harder and harder to speak around, but the urge didn’t go away, the intense need to spill his guts, to slice himself open and spill at the ground by Keith’s feet.

Stay. Stay. Stay.

“You’re not as elusive as you think, you fucker.”

He forces himself to stop, then, bites his tongue until he tastes blood, until the words stop flowing. He inhales big and long and holds it, lets the air go stale in his lungs, lets his heart start to pound.

“I want to go,” Keith says, back still turned.

His voice cracks on ‘want’.

Lance gasps an exhale. “You’re a fucking liar.”

Keith’s turn is slow, and Lance can’t help but think it’s on purpose. To torture him, to test him. To say I don’t believe you. To say when I turn back you’re going to break character.

It’s heartbreaking, a little. And the heartbreak is written all over Lance’s face, and he watches as Keith sees it.

“You saw the problem first,” Keith argues, weakly. Lance hears what he doesn’t say: I’m leaving or else you’ll have to.

And Lance knows he was the one to go to Keith with his pinky finger extended and wide worried eyes. He knows he was the one who planted the idea of leaving in Keith’s head, never meaning for him to be the one to go but expecting him to try anyway. He knows he’s the one who’s standing here, in the middle of the hallway, arguing around the subject, half-conscious of his friends’ stares, their acknowledgment that more is being said than just their words.

And Lance shoves that all back, and says: “I told you I’d be your Red.”

Paladin. Your Red Paladin. But the words don’t come all the way out.

Keith swallows. “I know.”

“I won’t be anyone else’s.”

“…I know.”

Lance’s hands shake. “So you can’t leave me, you motherfucker.”

The duffel drops to the floor again. This time it’s intentional. This time it’s shoved off Keith’s shoulders.

He takes three great strides forward, grasping Lance’s face in his perpetually burning hands, and shoves their lips together, bruising.

“If I leave then the math checks out,” he whispers, pulling back, eyes closed, breathing heavy. His forehead is pressed to Lance’s like he can beam his thoughts into his brain.

Lance sighs. “If you leave I’ll follow.” His eyes flutter shut. “You goddamn suck at math.”

Keith snorts. “A little.”

“Stop trying to fix my problems without me.”

“It’s — I want to. Fix your problems.”

“I want you here.”

“…Okay.”

“Promise me, Keith.”

“Okay,” Keith says again, quieter. “I’ll stay, Red.” He kisses Lance again and this time it’s soft, loving instead of desperate. “I’ll stay.”

———

animatic by @jiveyuncle

#vld #voltron #lance #lance mcclain #keith #keith kogane #klance #s4 klance #red paladin lance #black paladin keith #klangst #keith angst #lance angst #langst #my writing #fic #longpost #THERE IS ART NOW???

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yawntu · 1 year

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Tsyeym

A/N: Yo I thought I posted this last night, took shrooms. Finally just woke back up came and checked and was like no way no one has interacted w this fic and then realized i never pressed post. Rotxo deserves more love so I decided in a little fic for him. Switch x Switch couples are just my cup of tea. This is not my fav but I am a sucker for love and romance. It’s grammarly proofread but not beta read 🤭 (might be looking for another beta reader)

pairing(s): Rotxo x f!Reader, platonic!Ao’nung x f!Reader (briefly)

word count: ~8k

warnings: NSFW / MDNI, Size kink, stomach bulge, face sitting(f!receiving), Cunnalingus, Cumswaping maybe?, Spit, he’s a messy eater you can’t tell me otherwise, beach sex, Jealous!Rotxo, he’s just so sweet and pretty, Unprotected, love taps on your butt, “girl” is used, it’s pretty soft for the most part, he’s obsessed and def a simp

na’vi glossary: sayrìp : handsome, skxawng : moron, tsyeym : treasure / precious

Playfully scrapping had become increasingly popular amongst your friend group since you had been introduced to each other's cultures all those years ago. It was commonplace to play amongst yourselves. Just earlier in the evening you and Ao’nung had just almost spoiled your dinner by shoving each other's faces into the sand after a slap-boxing horseplay over some crustacean turned into a rather enthralling spar that had both of your fathers rooting for and coaching from an imagined sideline (and mothers who were doing more yelling and hooting in excitement then offering tactical advice).

Rotxo had even watched in amusement as it seemed Ao’nung had succeeded in neutralizing you with a knee on your back. Unfortunately, Ao’nung had been a fool and got off of you to turn to his father with a grin. It took you only seconds for you to contort yourself into a crouch and launch yourself into the back of his legs sending him forward onto his knees. His shock gave you enough time to maneuver both of your palms onto the back of his head and dramatically push his face right down into the sand,

“That is for punching me,”

And Rotxo couldn’t help the pang of jealousy at the fact that your pretty thighs straddle his best friend's back. Or the fact that jealousy grew into a painful lump in his throat when Ao’nungs arm hooks behind him to support your frame as he almost barrel rolls half onto his back to pin your thigh under his body and halt your assault with a laugh.

All your family and friends are laughing at the two of you, and your mothers coo as they watch you wipe sand off of Ao’nungs face. Rotxo couldn’t stop the bitter resentment that bubbled in his chest at the sight. He hated feeling this way. He hated the way you made him feel not quite like himself.

Which is why he does his very best at keeping it hidden. Not that it’s hard for him to forget the resentment he feels for you the second you give him your attention. Even only hours after the disgusting display of affection with his best friend. When you kindly ask him to accompany you on a walk he can’t even think about how upset he had been. Even now while your chiding voice disrupts the peacefulness of your walk and the beauty of the light beginning to set over the reef.

“You’re mad because I will not spar with you?”

He cuts off your words. The duck of the young warrior's head, so he could speak to you face to face as you walked down the beach only insults you more. Had he been on the side closest to the soft waves you’d have no doubt shoved him onto his ass into the assaulting water. Obviously that is what you were angry about-

“Is it because I cheat when I fight Ao’nung? If he is so stupid as to keep turning his back on me after all this time then he is at fault,”

You sound genuinely confused as you try desperately to make sense of why Rotxo would rough house with Lo’ak or Neteyam and even Kiri but not you. It’s funny how conceited you sound even as you’re practically bouncing next to him and pestering him like a bug. Rotxo knew a little better than most though regarding the inner workings of your mind. It wasn’t that you were conceited- you were just stupidly confident. He didn’t doubt, however, that one way or another your small frame would beat him simply because he knew you wouldn’t dare give up until you did.

“Besides the fact that I vividly remember when you bit Tinangey in the cheek,” Rotxo try’s to defend his unwillingness to hit you with an annunciation to his story by holding two of his second knuckles to the apex of your cobalt cheek. Long, thick fingers curled against your glowy skin. The same place you had bitten the longed-haired, round-faced, barely tolerable boy all those years ago when you fought. Though in your defense Ao’nung and the group of boys had started a very real fight, and you had only followed in your brother's shadow of retribution.

“And I happen to hit much harder than Ao’nung does,” he adds.

For a second, Rotxo feels like he exudes your same confidence. It’s not an unwarranted comment, however. Ao’nung was less than a head taller than him, but Rotxo had grown into quite an impressive specimen. Wide and as immovable as the waves that crashed outside of the reef you do not venture past. That was more than half the reason why you wanted to spar with the Talioang of a man so terribly.

“You are no fun,”

He can’t help but frown at your words. He knows you aren’t serious- would you spend as much time with him if you did not find entertainment in him? The same insecurity that causes resentment to bubble in his stomach rears its ugly head once more. For a second he feels like he could believe that you had been aware of how he felt and that you used him for validation.

“You should be more thankful to me,” he chides, baring his fangs slightly in a half grinned snarl, “that I refuse to knock any more brain cells out of you,”

You complain he doesn’t horseplay with you the way the others do, but at this moment he organically wraps one palm around the back of your head to pull you into him slightly, so he could cruelly rub his knuckles against the crown of your head.

Because he does roughhouse with you. Rotxo always played with you. Was always there to entertain you because the idea of other men wrapping their hands around the pliable flesh of your flowing form made the ugliest parts of him surface. If it wasn’t Rotxo entertaining you it was your siblings or his best friend. As he had not made any formal claim towards you out of his nerves, unfortunately, had to tolerate it regarding his future Olo'eyktan.

You’re just a terrible little cretin that found delight in the chaos you left in your wake. It’s why you, Lo’ak, and Kiri get into so much trouble. It’s why you poked at Ao’nung. He can swear there’s a part of you that does it just to cause strife in his heart.

He can’t be bothered with pondering over the legitimacy of his accusation partially out of fear that he’s projecting, and perhaps you are just like Ao’nung. Though mostly it’s because of course you are swatting your delicate little hand at him and grumbling about how you’re smarter than him and that he was the stupid one to think otherwise.

It’s endearing how you walk backward as the two of you playfully bicker and fight. Though like always- Rotxo is catching your intended slaps and redirecting your arms to swoop past him. Sometimes even grabbing at your forearms so you can’t help but be pulled around haphazardly by him.

“You are so fucking annoying,”

Your shriek comes as Rotxo almost effortlessly maneuvered you to spin forward and walk ahead of him, while he pinned your arms across your chest. You both stumble over each other's feet as you can’t help but laugh over the fact that he’s made your arms an effective straight jacket. You wiggle and writhe and it halts his walking while you try to dig your heel into the top of his foot. It only results in one of your wrists being let go of and you being spun around like a toy by him.

He had half let you stumble while he used the momentum of your arms to spin you, but he was quick to grab hold of your other wrist, propping you right up.

You were out of breath from the game but you were thankful for the view he presented you with. The violets and oranges of sunset suited the aquamarine of his skin. Dancing between the intricate tidal markings on his body, and forcing your eyes to dance across the defined arms, chest, and neck that were covered in bold black lines. You feel a little silly, being so flustered before him with your whole face purpled. You can help it because he looks pretty at the moment. Absolutely beautiful like always. Like no one you had ever seen before.

Rotxo is quick to heave you up in the air and shake you around. Ruining the view that had just begun to calm you down. Riling you into hysteric laughter while playing with you as if you weighed nothing. You shake in his arms and toss your body around like a mad-woman and you’re cackling just like one.

When he begins to feel merciful you land on your feet, with his arms still pining your hands and arms against your ribs that are rapidly rising and falling. With the welcomed breaths you instantly go back to chastising him.

“That is not sparring, fish-boy! You were just being an imbecile.”

You’re snapping an arm fee so you can poke him in the chest. He can’t help but roll his eyes at your attempt and take your hand to lightly ‘smack’ your face with it.

“You are ridiculous,”

He tried to emphasize his words with a similar assault by your other hand but you offered resistance,

“If you just took me seriously I-“ you’re cut off as you struggle to keep him from playfully making you hit yourself. Thrashing your head around wildly. And he’s just laughing above you because he thinks it’s stupid that you assume he just thinks you can’t fight and that’s why he won’t spar with you. For Eywas sake he watches you win regularly.

It’s like you could read his mind without tsaheylu and the mention of your victories emboldened you. He hadn’t even noticed your leg raise to wrap around his locked knee leisurely supporting his weight while he tormented you.

He had buckled backward under the weight of his massive frame embarrassingly quickly. You had expected him to let go of your wrists as he fell, but he did not. Opting to drag you down into the sand with him.

He tries to control the mauve that dances across his skin but this is the reason he didn’t spar with you. He can tell himself it’s because he hates seeing you get hit, and that his heart breaks and chokes him any time he thinks about striking you even in that situation.

He knows however, it’s because he can’t be this close to you. He can already feel his ears perking up towards you and his eyes relaxing while he stares up at you. How pretty. Your sapphire skin was dazzling under the cool violets and dwindling oranges of an almost completely set sun. The stars had even begun to twinkle behind you between the other shining moons.

“You are the worst,” your pants finally die down, to match your soft glare,

“Is that so?” His cheeks dimple as he grins wildly up at you as you adjust to straddle his chest more comfortably.

“Yes. I swing at you and you don’t even try to hit me back.”

And there’s another attitude laced plop to his chest. More follow as you use said pops to enunciate your following words,

“You just toss me around like I am useless and cannot fight! You know I can. Yet you only fight my brothers, how are you meant to get better if you don’t-“

He stops listening to your scoldings. He doesn’t care what you’re saying when his heart beats against your inner thighs. When he can feel the pudge of your hips practically pooling on him begging for him to grab at it. Why couldn’t you connect the dots? Why were you so stupid? He can’t help but laugh at you, there’s even a bit of a bitter snide behind it. Even though he thinks it’s endearing how badly you wanted to prove yourself to him. He cuts you off abruptly,

“Go and fight with Ao’nung,”

And it’s got your pretty siren eyes widening at his words.

“What does he have to do with anything,”

The sight of his sea-foam eyes rolling into the back of his head has your snarl fixed down at him,

“Can’t step on the Olo'eyktan’s toes can I? Huh?”

He has an expression you’ve never seen cross his face before. Not on Rotxo’s. Not the sweet boy who you had spent so much time with,

“What are you talking about, Ro?”

Ro. You dare call him Ro at a time like this. It makes him sit up on in elbow, grabbing at the top of your now elevated thigh,

“What do you mean what am I talking about? Why do you need to spar with me when you can practice with him? Unless it’s just some weird mating thing you guys have going on-”

He’s never seen your face screw up quite like it is now. Red-faced at his accusation not out of embarrassment but out of anger. Angry that he’d made such a brazen accusation. The first outbreak from Rotxo leaves you stumbling over how to answer him, and you notice he looks hurt at your stunned silence.

“Yeah, ‘course that’s what it is. You make it quite obvious-“ and you feel him start to move under you- probably to get up and apologize and tell you you had to walk back to the village now because even with the hurt salted embarrassment he feels now he’d never leave you to walk back alone. Never let you be in danger. You know that and it makes you more upset,

“Don’t tell me what I do and don’t make it obvious. I am not your fucking ilu- you do not know what I’m thinking.”

Your left hand reaches for the wrist of the hand that holds your thigh while your right pointer and middle fingers aim down at him accusingly.

“So you have no interest in him?”

Rotxo is speaking faster than usual. A trait you had noticed followed Rotxo anytime he was too hyped up. He was the softest boy you had ever known yet the gentle buzz of adrenaline that leaked out of his too-quick breaths reminded you that he was in fact a Metkayina warrior.

“Mhmm,”

You’re honestly surprised it has taken you this long to notice the mutual affection he had harbored for you. Blinded by your insecurities, the sight of him frantic over the idea of your affection belonging to someone else made you squirm.

“I suppose he would be a fine mate now that you mention it-” and you smile down at him, hoping he knows you’re kidding. That you just don’t know how to talk about your feelings “considering no one else seems to be all that interested in me,”

And you feel him go ridged under you, round eyes fixated on your own. You think he’s annoyed a little bit, staring dumbfounded at you. But you feel his fingers dig into the meat of your thigh.

“Was this your plan? Torment me into doing what you want?”

You don’t know if it’s the chill of the eclipses sea breeze or the fact that Rotxo’s voice was as modulated, deep, and mesmerizing as always, yet his face held the same intense stare that the Metkayina warriors were renowned for. You’re embarrassed at the way you twitch as he props both hands on your thighs and adjusts himself back into laying straight back.

“Nu-uh, but is it working?” And you're purring above him, flicking your tail across his stomach. It only added to the overstimulated feeling throbbing at the front of Rotxo’s skull. An uncomfortable pendulum swinging him between ecstasy at the sight of your pretty form sat on his chest and misery over the fact that he still couldn’t shake the insecurity that you were toying with him.

“No-“ He curses a crack in his voice with a swallow, “I will just stay tormented,”

His hands are warm as they paw at the top of your thighs. He can’t help but feel like he’s on fire at your position, at least the sand was starting to cool in the dark. It helped keep him from sweating below you even as he pants at the sight above him. Your knees are pushed under his arms and nestled against his ribs and he worries you can feel his heart pounding. You made the air hang hot around his head.

You’re nervous at how intense his dusk sullen aqua eyes maintain their contact with you but he doesn’t have a choice- if you scooted up less than a foot you’d be sat right on his face- there’s nothing he’s ever wanted more.

“Lost in thought?”

He cringes at your voice. Not knowing how you always get him like this. How you always have the high ground. He doesn’t know why he’s honest with you,

“I do not want you to fight with Ao’nung like that anymore.”

And you grin at him and place your palm on his cheek,

“Is that so? That means you will spar with me now?”

He couldn’t wrap his head around your obsession with being hurt? Did you pester everyone to fight with you like this? The thought makes his body move on reflex, craning his neck enough to open his mouth wide and comp down onto the exposed skin of your thigh. You bounce on his chest, pulling at his hair back with a whine in response.

“If you are jealous you can just say so you do not have to bite me, you child.”

He can only smile because it’s his hair you’re yanking at. You’re sitting on him and-

“I’m not jealous. Not in this moment anyways,”

One of his hands slides up your hunched forward torso, and he’s pulling you down by the woven fabric of your top. You’re not sure if he’s pulling you down to kiss him. You figure with the state of things though a kiss wasn’t an unwelcome advance, and you’re not surprised when his head lifts to kiss you back.

It’s better than any silly fantasy you had ever let yourself drift into because he’s warm and real and he’s kissing you like you’re fragile because he wants you to feel safe enough to be fragile. He wouldn’t have wasted so much time becoming a competent warrior if it wasn’t to keep you safe.

“How could you think I’d want to share a brain with Ao’nung huh? I’d kill myself.” you smile against his lips, “as if I’d ever want him over you,”

And he knows you’re not lying to him as the fluff of your tail tickles against a throbbing vein in his lower stomach. How could you be lying when you’re hunched over uncomfortably while you straddle him just so you could purr into a kiss? His big hands cradling your cheeks makes you ignore the ache in your spine, and you thank Eywa he’s so big as to add ease to the position.

By some stroke of luck, his hand travels down your spine as if to soothe the ache while your tongues swirled against each other. Despite the trembling ache that plagued your lower stomach at the endearing turn of events, Rotxo kisses you, softly. As if you’re not dying for him. Even though you straddle him his chest and move against him to relieve the pressure he inflicts on you. You’re very obviously making out with him. Willingly letting his mouth explore yours at his own pace. You can’t help but slide down his torso so you could lay on top of him properly.

You couldn’t get over how wide you still had to spread your legs to straddle his waist. Even though you laid over him caging his body under yours he engulfed you. You need to breathe far earlier than he does, and he finds it cute how you huff against his lips to catch your breath.

“You’re not going to let Ao’nung touch you anymore, ya?”

And he can’t help the dopey pitch of his voice as he catches your lips in a quick kiss. Not when you’re beaming down at him.

“Only if you touch me instead,”

You sound so coy considering you’re giggling above him. And when you enunciate your words with another kiss he can’t help the obnoxious chortle that leaves his lips- that’s until you bite at his bottom lip slightly,

“You are too bossy,”

But he kisses you the way you want him to. Pushing his nose against yours. He doesn’t think he can like anything more until he feels your hips grind against the lower abs of his stomach- that tighten and flex at the feeling of your now twitching core.

The confidence the both of you had mutually worked up to had you lost in your own world. You know it’s unbecoming of you both to be caught in such a situation but you had enough confidence in your privacy and even less confidence in your own self-control to do anything about it.

“Sit on my face,” it comes out as a gaspy whisper between your clanking teeth while you grind against him, “Let me take care of you instead,”

It makes you whimper above him and he swears it’s some sort of nirvana.

“I-I’ve never-” and you are mad at how wet the inside of your mouth is and yet it still offers no solace to the lump in your throat

“No’ gonna make you,”

You’re not sure if the sound of him slurring into your mouth makes you moan or the fact that your tail finds and runs across his erect member behind you.

“Obviously want you to,” and his palm is on your cheek, “wanted you on my mouth since you plopped down on me,”

He’s kissing you between his words and you know he means it. You can hear it in his voice. He just about died of excitement when he felt you propping yourself up on your knees.

Now that you’re back up he can admire your pretty body once again. He thinks this is the first time he’s ever seen you not take the lead. It made him blush- realizing how shy you had suddenly become. He’s gentle when he reaches for your thigh again, sliding up until his fingers reach the fabric of your tweng,

“Can I?”

You wondered how the sun would rise in the morning when it was trapped in his smile. Looking up at you as if you were Eywa herself. How could he possibly think you don’t want him to untie it?

You don’t know how to say yes without embarrassing yourself, so you do what any rational woman would do when the love of their life was laid between their legs. You reach up to the fabric tie of your beaded top, and let it fall from your body, plopping down in the sand next to you.

You can’t ignore the throb that plagues you at the widening of his eyes, how they instantly drop to your breasts. The only cover from his eyes are the few strands of hair.

You’re almost shocked at his fumbling fingers. Too excited to uncover you and too large for the delicate fabric, yet like all things that required a gentle hand- Rotxo succeeded at his task quickly. Obediently you let his palms guide your hips up. He is rewarded with one more sway of your tail over his quickly hardening length as tosses your bottoms in the opposite direction of your top.

You're breathing heavily when he cranes his neck to look at your most intimate flesh,

“Oh, Eywa,”

He can feel himself leaking all over his stomach at the sight of your bare cunt against his torso, and the warm feeling of you dripping could drive him to madness.

“C’mere, give me you.”

You listen of course. He feels bad that he likes you best like this. Tentatively crawling up his large chest to place your legs on the side of his head.

He doesn’t feel bad for enjoying the view of you hovering above his face. He can’t believe he had done this. He can’t believe you’re swollen, sticky, and wet for him.

His hands are wrapping around the fat of your thighs to pull you into open-mouthed kisses against your thighs. You’re mad it feels so good- he’s not even touched you and yet your thighs twitch where he kisses.

You reward him with a real moan at the quick swipe of his tongue from the bottom of your leaking hole right across your clit. Though he didn’t truly know what he was doing, he knew what he wanted to do. That was enough. You seemed to like what he was doing regardless. He likes kissing you. Feeling the way your lips twitch against his. His tongue finds a comfortable rhythm exploring your folds. You tasted like nothing he had ever eaten before. He couldn’t compare you to anything else- and there wasn’t a thing in Pandora he’d rather in his mouth.

Though you're panting and wiggling your hips in front of his face he still wants to give you more. Wants to wrap his arms around your thighs and take care of you the way you should be taken care of. He doesn’t know why he has such a need to take care of you, especially since you had caused him so much grief. He knows you’re more than willing and capable of handling him mating you without any of this - but he can’t help it. He wants to spoon-feed the world to you; do everything for you. Even if it means doing all the work to get that pretty pussy of yours to cum in his mouth.

His desire to take care of you is probably why one of his big hands finds your hips. Why it slides across your smooth skin and his thumb hooks under your tail to push you down and forward onto his wanting mouth.

“I said sit-” he speaks into your cunt, the vibrations of his voice making you clench your stomach.

He can feel his dick jump at the way you cry at the feeling of him grinding your sensitive pussy against his wanting mouth, legs clamping down against his blood-rushed ears. When he finally slides his tongue into your twitching hole again he can’t help but reach down to squeeze at the base of his throbbing dick. Just for a second, he could pretend you were clamping down on his cock and not his rapidly exploring tongue. You’re too busy following along with the motion Rotxo’s hand around your tail provides for you to notice what he’s doing, however. When you’re so blissed out that you lean back to brace your hands onto his chest he can’t help but take in the sight of your thrown-back head. Your hair was behind you now and he could watch the night sky illuminate the swell of your breasts. He can’t be bothered to feel bad at watching you so vulnerable and unaware when he’s the one to cause it.

With the added space of you leaning off of him slightly, he was able to drag his face across your leaking cunt as if he were a starved animal ripping into a meal.

You feel dirty- for the way your head quickly snaps forwards to watch the way he shakes his head back and forth between your legs. There’s no hiding the mess below you at this point. The twinkling night does little to hide the slick connecting you to him. And you feel yourself leak even worse when his relaxed eyes blink open and he catches you staring at him. When he slows his movements to take in the look on your face.

“Ro- don’t- Rotxo-“

Embarrassment is evident in your voice despite the fact he feels like his face is burning brighter than yours. He can’t seem to wrap his head around the fact that you’re sitting on his face, you’re letting him eat you out.

He wraps his lips around his new favorite part of your body, sucking the nerve into his mouth with a cruel pop. Kissing it after you cry out,

“You feelin' good?”

His words are soft, as you feel his thumb caress the underside of your tail. You only try to sit back down on his face with a wiggle of your hips. Rotxo has finally found a happy middle ground where he felt confident with you, however. Gripping your tail tighter to keep your greedy cunt off of his face.

“Answer me,”

And with his words comes a gentle graze of his sharp teeth against the pulsating sticky skin of your clit. He’s never heard you make the noise that responds to his assault. A cry or a hiss he wouldn’t know- but it was his new favorite sound. He’s only licking you- it’s only at the work of his tongue that your legs are shaking so prettily on his cheeks.

“Yes- yes you know I am-“ You start, “can you keep going now?”

It’s the fake polite voice you use that makes him scoff. He finds it endearing how badly you try to grind yourself against him in the same rhythm he had previously helped you with. But with his grip on your tail, and the punishingly slow strokes of his tongue against your slit you stayed bubbling on the edge. You’ve never been so pliable for anyone before, he thinks. He’s never seen you so whiney over anything.

“Rotxo please!”

Your please is a little too mean. It wasn’t you asking him to make you feel good. You were being bossy and rude. Red face screwed up in frustration as if you had still been scolding him for the fact he wouldn’t hit you. Maybe it’s why his other hand leaves your hip for a second to swat at the fat of your ass.

Between you sidling forward onto his face, and the fact that your pretty little tail wagged across his painfully hardened cock he couldn’t help but moan right into you.

The guttural moan of his deep voice sends a shock wave up your body that has one hand digging into the sand next to his head and the other hand pulling at the mess of curls on top of his head. Maybe he understood your annoyance at his stubborn desire to hold back before. Because right now you are doing the same.

All he wanted was for you to cum. So one hand returned to your pretty tail to help you grind your clit against his face. It was cute how you tensed at the feeling of the tip of his fingers that had risen up against the hole that so willingly leaked all over him. You don’t even give him a chance to ask if you’re okay with it before you sink back into his fingers, ruining the kiss Rotxo had just begun assaulting your clit with.

The sight of spit connecting his swollen lips to your cunt, and the feeling of one of his finger reaching deeper in you than you had ever been able to touch makes you tremble above him. He’s rocking you against his face while he begins an almost punishing assault on your hole.

In his defense, he wasn’t truly aware of how punishing the pace was. The only thing he was focused on was the steady ripple of your ass against his knuckles. So blissfully unaware of how much louder your voice had gotten. The wet sound he was greeted with as he slid a second finger inside you only spurred the speed of his hand more.

“I- I… Ro I feel-”

And he feels the tip of your tail softly lay across his aching cock as though to anchor yourself as you arch forward into his face, thighs trembling. He moans at the ache of his scalp as you pull him into you and he can’t help but open his eyes wide.

Eywa is Rotxo glad he did. He knows he’s going to remember this for the rest of his life- the view of your pretty legs choking him in a vice grip and pussy clenching up on his fingers while you practically scream. You don’t listen to yourself though, not when you’re preoccupied with the sound of him slurping against you. As if he’s never enjoyed something more- and he’s smiling against you as he alternates, scraping his teeth against you, and sloppily kissing you though your orgasm. All while his fingers still slowly curl inside of you.

You feel like you should be embarrassed, panting above him- trying to force oxygen into your deprived lungs and brain. He doesn’t make you feel awkward though. Not even for a second. Not while he’s petting your thigh and smiling up at you between his movements.

“You’re alright?”

The hum of his voice was questioning. You couldn’t help that part of you felt as though he was telling you that you were alright though. Maybe that’s why you felt so at ease.

“Better than alright,”

Your coquettish grin has him pawing at your thighs to scoot you back down off of him. Even though he’s never enjoyed doing something more than taking care of you, the feeling of your tail twitching against the tip of his throbbing cock had raised an unfamiliar pain in his stomach. Besides, the sinful sounds you had been making for him; the pretty dazed face had coaxed you into had made him confident enough to not want to be under you any longer.

You instinctually wrap your arms around his neck as you feel him begin to sit himself up. One arm wrapped tightly under your ass (giving himself the luxury of wrapping one of his meaty palms around the meatier fat of your ass) to keep you from sliding down into his lap until he had sat up completely, and could position you comfortably.

You can’t help but smile at how disheveled he looks. His hair is all askew from you yanking at it and his face is completely blushed and wet from all the effort. The way the corners of his lips twitch into a smile by the time your bare slit makes contact with him is almost mischievous in a way. As if he was expecting the gasp that falls from your lips as he drags you down across the tweng that painfully constricts the parts of him that hadn’t hardened out of it. It finally relieves some of the pressure knotting at the pit of his stomach. You could never wrap your mind around how sitting on his lap could be so calming yet intimidating. You can’t help but reach for the sand covered curls at the back of his head pulling desperately to fill the gap the height difference caused. Wanting nothing more than for him to bless you with another kiss.

Of course, he obliges. He doesn’t think he could ever deny you a single thing now. Not when you’re grinding down onto him while kissing him. Dragging the fabric across the both of you, and Eywa when you run your tongue across his lips with a giggle he has to stop himself from cumming between the both of you.

Feeling the way his tip leaks against your belly button has your heart beating so impossibly fast that the rattling it causes in your rib cage hurts.

“We do not have to do anything else,”

He doesn’t want to remind you. He really does not. He wants nothing more than to sink you down onto him- but he doesn’t want you to feel pressured. To feel unsafe. If you had never touched him again he’d have lived happily with this moment like gold in his memory. He thanks Eywa however, when you whine at the insinuation, thread your fingers around his kuru, and your pretty snarl makes contact with his own teeth.

“Don’t make me go and find Ao’nu-”

You don’t even finish your hiss before he swats at your ass again, appreciating the way your skin recoils, and thighs tremble at his sides and for you to yelp into him. How dare you say his name with your hand where it was? Has he been too nice to you these years? Too gentle with you?

“Watch it,”

You had heard Rotxo growl before. Never at you- but you had seen what he was capable of when he did get aggressive with people. Yes, he was a sweet and gentle boy- but he was also rowdy, brawling, and all too bellicose. But because he was normally so saccharine to you, you had forgotten all about the rest of Rotxo. Big, honorable, and strong Rotxo who you had seen slam down elder warriors with years of experience on him like they were weightless. Those same muscular, intricately tattooed arms were now using the fat of your hips and ass to grind you down against him. As if to make up for the cruelty of your words your other hand reaches down, and though you had frustrated him he can’t help but buck his hips into you at the feeling of your hand sliding down the hood of his cock so you could run a thumb across his exposed tip.

“I want you. I thought I was being pretty obvious. Reya makes fun of me for it.”

You don’t know why you whisper to him, you don’t think you had ever been as soft-spoken before.

“I am just stupid-”

And his frustrations leave him at the feeling of your hands loosening around both his hand and kuru. He can’t help but slide his face against yours, slotting his nose against yours. He breaths against your face once before he speaks,

“You are not a stupid girl,” and there’s a kiss placed on your cheek under your eye as one palm raises to cradle the opposite one, “you are at least smart enough to undo a knot, yeah?”

He keeps his usual warm and syrupy baritone voice, yet there’s a condescending undertone to his voice that shoots straight down to your core. It makes your ears flatten against your head, and your eyes widen. He was almost bitter that all it took to intimidate you was to imply he wanted to impale you on his cock. Why did he waste all this time becoming such a revered deep-sea diver and warrior?

“Or are you, pretty girl?”

There’s more jest in his voice; his heart swelling at how cute you were when you weren’t being a menace. So cute in fact that he can’t help but kiss the crown of your head as he watches both of your hands reach down to untie his tweng. He supposes he could have just yanked it down, but he can’t help the rush that flows through him at the sight of you doing it. He swears he’ll ride this high for months- felt like he could fight a nalutsa all by himself.

That’s until he sees you sit up on his knees and realize what you’re going to do- what you want to do. It finally sinks in for him. You want him. Your fingers are on his kuru, your cums on his face- you chose him. Suddenly the sea breeze isn’t enough to keep him from overheating. He’s too aware of the sound of the waves and the sand that covers his back and hair and the fact that-

“Sayrìp,”

His eyes instantly leave your swollen pussy and raise to your face, locking with your eyes obediently. You smile up at him and he’s sure his pupils are as wide as yours.

“Are you okay?”

How can he not be okay when you're kissing his mandible? Teeth teasing against the pulse you’ve risen should drive him to dizzying madness but only acts to ground him back into reality,

“Jus’ cannot believe you’re here with me.”

It gives him a chance to swallow the lump in his throat,

“Who else would I be with, skxawng?”

And you're grasping at the base of him to hold his heavy leaning cock steady; he whines at the sight of your spit drooling past your pretty lips and hisses at the feeling of it plopping against him. He supposes you could use all the help you could get if you hoped to take him.

As you slide the girthy blunt tip against your slit he rewards you with a moan. A deep sound that reverberates against his chest. It makes you all too eager to try and sink down onto the tip.

But Rotxo’s arms are stronger than you and he doesn't want you to do that, so he uses that strength against you. Despite being so giving and nice on the regular, rolling over and letting you boss him around and do what you wanted he was going to mate you the way he wanted to, and you were going to take it.

When the jolt of his hands moving to hold your hips in place makes your pussy flutter against his tip he has to remind himself of that before he loses all of his resolve and pushes you down onto his length in one swift movement. The thought made him cringe. He didn’t waste all this time opening you up for him just to hurt you,

“You going to let me mate you, tsyeym?” He asks

If you think you could roll your eyes without invoking the hunter's wrath you would have. He was acting as though you hadn’t been pulling and tugging on his prettily kept braid since you had first felt his imposing length against you.

“I am not above begging,”

Though you’re chuckling softly in his ear your fingers are dancing down his kuru, and when your finally twirl the ends of his hair covering his tswin around your slender fingers he can’t help but slide just the first couple of inches of him into you. He can’t tell if he feels your fingers caressing his nerves more or the far too-tight ring of your pussy sucking him into you.

“Ma’Rotxo-”

Your free hand braces yourself down on his bicep, digging your fingernails into his flesh as if you’re the one overstimulated.

“Thought you were tough, huh?” He chides, “Wanna fight with me but can’t even take me bullyin’ my cock into ya, huh?”

If you were mean you would have tugged on his braid, giving him a semblance of the perineum sting you felt at the girth of him-

“Don’t be an asshole to me, Rotxo.”

You’re trying to be bossy still and it doesn’t suit the fact that your body feels so pliable in his hands. He doesn’t even dignify you with an answer, not when he wants you to be flush against his hips. Not when he wanted you to feel as much of him as you could before he made you feel even more. He feels a little bad that you’re so small in comparison to the Metkayina people. Though an embarrassing part of him loves the idea of spending the rest of his life drilling into your warmth until you’re molded to him he worries about how sore you’d be in the morning. He promises himself that he’d be extra kind to you tomorrow- tend to anything you could want. He will take care of you as a thank you for the way you were about to let him use you.

You couldn’t think of a time when Rotxo hadn’t taken care of you- this felt no different. So when you feel one of his hands caress you on the mission to reach around your body and pull you apart further so that more of him could slide inside all you do is huff and give into his guidance.

“Look at you,”

He sounds winded at the feeling of you clenching against him. You’re surprised he enters as easily as he does. Surprised the pressure doesn’t hurt as bad as you feared it would. Especially when one of his thumbs moves over your clit in soft quick motions,

“Just gotta relax a lil’ more.”

His eyes are fixed down; watching you take him inside of you. He doesn’t even care anymore that the end of his braid is held in your soft hand. He ignores the uncomfortable throb that shoots through it. He only has to endure seconds more of it before he’s rewarded with the slippery plap of your hips meeting. He feels bigger than ever when your hands leave their respected body parts to grab at his cheeks. He’s sure you meant to kiss him but you only managed to moan against his open mouth.

“That’s my girl,” he kisses you, “Took it all so good.” another kiss,

“Fucking Metkayina- too big,” Of course, you’re grumbling right now. Of course, you have a grumpy little voice even when he’s in your guts.

“You are rude,” one of his arms wrapped around you and pulled you flush against him, partially to appreciate your warmth but mostly so he could reach around and grab your own braid.

“Shouldn’t even touch this now, huh?”

His soft eyes give him away, and he knows you know him too well. You know that once you pull his braid over his shoulder that he’d rush to bring yours closer.

You were right of course, he’s quick to hold the bioluminescence of your tswin’s tendrils painfully close to his own. There’s something that makes your stomach tighten painfully at the sight. There was something so exciting about the fact that you were so close to being with him- all you had to do was dip your hand forward. The thought has you rolling your hips down against him to alleviate the throb of your clitoris. It’s all he needs before his other hand leaves your hip to grab your wrist that holds his tswin.

“Look at me,”

You’re so good for him. So obedient when your eyes instantly snap from where your hands almost make you one- to his eyes. He thinks you’re so beautiful. Sultry and warm and so undeniably wild. So easily he gives into the magnetic force that’s been trying to convince him to pull your tswin into his.

He thinks his heart stops at the way your eyes haze over and you melt into him. The way you practically purr as he feels his lap grow wetter. Now you were all of those things- but you were also his.

“Oh, Eywa,”

He feels bad for how roughly his one arm pulls you into him, he feels how much fuller it makes you feel but he has to feel your heartbeat against him. He thinks this is bliss- that he can’t get anything better than this. Then you begin scooting your hips back and forth against his. His hands are too quick to reach for your hair, digging his fingers into it.

The pretty way your face screws up as your pace quickens has him star-struck. The echo of your pleasure tickled his lower stomach. He can’t help but lift his hips to meet yours; the slapping sound of skin as you bounced against him is enough to spur him into near madness. Both of your throats are caught- stunned in silence over the sheer amount of feeling tsaheylu adds.

He feels bad because he knows you feel so good going at your own pace and using him to fill yourself to your heart's content. He can’t focus on that guilt when he has such an uncontrolled need to be on top of you. His hands halting your hips have you confused, and you’re only more shocked when he’s heaving you up and tossing the both of you until your back is against the sand and your hips are hiked on his firm thighs.

He doesn’t even give you a second to take in the change, slipping himself all the way into you in one fluid movement, palms returning to the fat of your hips so he could roll and grind down into you. He loves the way you clench as he rolls across your g-spot. The view is beautiful, and the way your hands reach between your thighs and rub your fingers against yourself for him only drives him further into ecstasy.

“So pretty for me,” He loves how easy it is to make you clench and throb. “My pretty mate,”

His eyes are fixed on the way your breasts bounce at the power of his thrusts and the way your stomach bulges. He knows if he focuses on your pretty face he’d be finished the way your wide eyes don’t focus on anything and the dark purple stain of your blush. He’s never quite seen your markings glow so bright. He’d never live down finishing before he even got a chance to fuck you properly- before he could really appreciate the view. So he grabs at your hips and wiggles you side to side in an effort to stimulate you further,

“Let me fuck you for real now baby,” and his hand travels up your legs that are bent against your bodies, straightening one leg over his shoulder so he could kiss your calf. How could you say no when he asks so sweetly while he was so deep inside of you?

“Please? Can you please move again?”

He forgot you could be so polite when you want to be. He’s all smiles, starting at a comfortable pace. His speed picked up quickly as he could use your whole leg as an anchor, but he still stays relatively shallow. Just to give you enough time to adjust before he picks up a punishing pace.

He knows he’s fucking you entirely too loud. He knows the way you moan under him is entirely too loud. He knows the nighttime waves aren’t loud enough to drown out what he’s doing to you but all it does is spur him on. He wishes you’d be louder but he knows you have more dignity than he does.

How can he slow down when you’re telling him he’s so good? You’re gasping as he falls forward onto one hand for more leverage. Still holding your hips up by one leg so he could slam into you. The change of position has you dragging sinfully across him and it almost distracts you from the sound of his grunts. It was magnifying seeing him worked up over you- he wasn’t even in a rut and had desired you so deeply.

“Gon- Shit. Roxto 'm gonna cum,”

The way he reacted to your words is what sends you over the edge. The way he hunches over and begins to slam into you while his eyes bore into yours. The sloppy sound of you cumming all over him and your eyes rolling into you head bring him closer more than the feeling of you clamping down on his cock. He didn’t think you could squeeze tighter and it’s embarrassing how easy you make him cum. Just barely enough time to slip out and shoot himself all over you.

He means to hit your stomach honestly, expecting it to pool where you had been slightly folded. Except he had forgotten how worked up you had gotten him- how badly he had wanted to cum in you. The sheer amount that painted your warm stomach and azure boobs should have embarrassed him but the sight of his cum shooting further and globbing on your chin and lips consumes him. You lay half folded under him, grasping onto him while you panted. Covered in his cum. No one could get near you without knowing you were his.

He can’t help but act on his desires and lean down to cage his big arms around you. Running his tongue up your chin and across your lips. You taste the salt on his lips when he immediately kisses you, and at the bite of his teeth, you’re opening your mouth so he can spit him into your mouth.

It should be raunchy and make you feel like a whore but he does it so softly and kisses you so libidinously that the swirl of his tongue against yours has you both purring into each other's mouth.

You’re perplexed at how quickly he’s back to sweet Rotxo. Kissing you gently and caressing skin that just knew the punishing grip of his strength.

He’s tall when he sits up on his knees, and now that he’s not hunched over rutting into you it truly dawns on you just how much bigger he is than you.

He scoffs as he looks around him and you’re almost confused until you watch him lean over to grab both of your bottoms before he’s grinning down at you and scooping his hands under you.

His cheeks hurt from smiling at the sound of you giggling foolishly at him as he heaves you into the air. You're both red-faced and covered in sweat and sand and he can’t wait to walk into the cooling water with you in his arms.

#rotxo imagine #avatar x reader #avatar the way of water #avatar fandom #avatar smut #rotxo smut #rotxo x reader #atwow rotxo #rotxo fluff #he’s so babygirl #i want him #aonung x reader

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klausysworld · 1 year

Note

A random idea, Klaus is really (murder spree) angry Elijah and Rebecca are trying to talk reader into leaving with them but she tells them no, that she knows Klaus won’t hurt her, they are both in shock as they watch her walk up to Klaus speak to him and he totally calms down.

Thanks.

Because I love you

As I approached the abattoir i could hear glass breaking, a whole lot of screaming and a very distinctive yell, Klaus. Suddenly Rebekah came rushing out, the door swinging dramatically behind her as she ran towards me

“Y/n he’s gone mad, we need to leave now, come on in the car” she spoke in one breath grabbing onto my sleeve as tugging me along

“What happened? Is he okay?” I asked concerned. Suddenly Elijah appeared next to us covered in blood

“He’s prepared to kill every being in this city if not all of America itself for the best that we go away for a bit- you especially, you’re human” he took my hand and tried to coax me into the car

“No what? What happened? Did someone hurt him?” I question, another crash sounded, another scream.

“Look we just need to get out! It’s not safe when he’s like this!” Rebekah whisper yelled starting the car

“Jesus you two are meant to be a thousand years old, I’m going to see if he’s okay” i started walking back but Elijah was directly infront of me again

“Y/n i beg you to reconsider, he will hurt you” i frowned at him and moved around him

“He won’t lay a hand on me” i nodded to myself walking forward a little more confidently. I heard the car stop and both of their footsteps following behind

“He might drain you-“ Rebekah started

“He won’t” i cut her off

I walked in to see bodies nearly everywhere. I quickly ducked as a whole ass chair flew through the air and smashed into the wall behind me. I blinked a few times at it before making eye contact with an apprehensive Elijah who light shook his head ‘no’

I took a breath and turned back to the direction of pain filled terror. I stepped over and/or around the body parts leading to a fuming Klaus, blood splattered everywhere and a white oak stake in his hand that pointed at a man i had never seen who was crying a river

“Klaus?” I asked softly, his head whipped round to face me, his deathly expression dropping as he lowered his hand

“My love you need to go home” he told me, his adams apple bobbing

“Can you put the stake away…why do you even have it? I thought it was destroyed remember?” I asked stepping closer to which he moved backwards

“They want to kill me, it would seem that they discovered another. They need to pay for the harm they have caused and the lives they have threatened” his words grew harsher with each word, his gaze hardening

“Elijah and Rebekah are afraid, please calm down” i whispered and he growled

“My siblings are weak! They will not stand and defend themselves! Defend me! Or you! These people they threatened you! They will die and i do not care if i have to kill off the entire world to make sure every last pathetic excuse of an enemy is dead”

My lips pulled together in a thin line before i spoke again

“Look at him Niklaus, he’s crying, are you even sure that he was apart of this? There’s a dead old man in the corner, i do doubt an 80 year old human could have charged at you with white oak”

“He was collateral” he mumbled

“I thought you were going to try and limit the collateral” i took a few steps closer

“I can’t, not with this” he uttered

“Please, some of these people have families, they have people they love. Klaus i love you, if someone were to kill you and say it was collateral i would not accept that”

“That is why i need to kill everyone so it just cancels out” he frowned

“You’re making a bigger mess, just give me the stake, you trust me right? I’m going to put it somewhere safe so you can’t get hurt. Then you can stop because nobody can kill you without it” he sighed and looked at the weapon hesitantly

“But they can harm you” he whispered almost incoherently

“Then be with me, just stay with me” i held my hand out to him, he nodded nearly unnoticeably and dropped the stake in my hand.

“Let him go please” I instructed and he let go of the man infronts throat, letting him drop to the ground sobbing

“We’re going to go upstairs, calm down for 10 minutes and then I’m going to help you clean this up”

“We are not doing anything of the sort, you should never have to touch such horrible things” he growled

“This is not something anybody should have to do but you made the mess and you will clear it up and because i love you, and so i will help” i yelled back at him. He fell silent and his eyes dropped

“I’ll do it myself” he murmured

“We will help” Elijah called from behind us, i turned and smiled sadly at him, Rebekah was already lifting a body from the ground. Both looking both shocked, terrified and confused at the same time

“No, I’m afraid this is something he needs to do without you, please just relax, no more drama, take a day off” i took Klaus’s hand and pulled him up the stairs to the bathroom. I filled a bucket with warm water and grabbed a cloth

“There’s not much point in a shower until we’ve gotten rid of everything so ill just wash your face” I muttered seeing him glance to the shower

“Okay” he whispered lifting his head to make it easier to wipe clean

Once finished he looked at me silently for a minute or two

“Are you upset with me” he asked quietly

“No, I’m upset with the situation” I muttered

“You’re disappointed” he whispered

“I just don’t like all the death but i understand why you got angry, you just need to wait a minute and think before you act. Please don’t let me find you like that again, Elijah thought you would hurt me.” I stoked his cheek bones with my thumbs

“Did you…think i would hurt you?” He asked softly

“No, you wouldn’t touch me” I confirmed and he sighed, his head growing heavy in my hands as his eyes closed for a second

“I love you and i…i trust you” he uttered

“I trust you too, and you know that i love you. Now are you ready to grab a sponge for the floors…and walls and furniture and-“

“I got it, ill grab a few sponges” he muttered pushing his forehead to mine

“You know if you do it without complaining ill give you a reward later” i whispered to him

“What kind of reward?” He asked with a smile

“Perhaps you can take out your frustration on me? I may even get on my knees for you if you deserve such treatment” a low growl came from his throat as his arms circled my body

“Then we should really get started”

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just-my-latest-hyperfixation · 5 months

Text

Eddie Munson's second chance

Written for the @steddieholidaydrabbles, day 14

Prompt: Angst with a happy ending

Rated: G

CW: referenced child neglect/abuse

Tags: Modern AU, Royalty AU, Royal Steve Harrington, Rockstar Eddie Munson

Notes: Continued from day 11. This was angstier in my head, but Eddie is a silly goose.

Eddie Munson is no stranger to fucking up. He's long accepted that. It's just a thing that happens.

Sometimes, you'll miscalculate a stage dive and have to cancel the rest of the tour.

Sometimes, you'll get so caught up in your stupid rockstar stuff, you'll forget about the youth center you founded to give other kids a better childhood.

Sometimes, you'll meet an adorable guy named Dustin at said youth center, and rant about how useless the monarchy is, only to find out that Dustin isn't Dustin at all, but Crown Prince Steven Harrington, aka the future king, aka owner of the saddest pair of puppy dog eyes that Eddie has ever failed to get out of his goddamn head.

Which brings him to his current predicament, sitting on the edge of his bed, waiting for Chrissy to pick up the phone. She does after the second dial tone, which is pretty impressive for three in the morning.

"We must cancel the royal visit," Eddie blurts before she can ask what's wrong.

"Eds," she yawns. "We've been over this. Just because you can't stand the guy-"

"That's not it," Eddie groans. "Listen … I met him yesterday? Only I didn't know it was him? And I flirted with him and he was really cute but I couldn't keep my fucking mouth shut and now I can't ever see him again because I don't wanna rot in some dungeon, understand?"

"No," she says. Damn, it sounded perfectly logical in his head. "But this doesn't seem like something we should discuss on the phone. Stay put, I'm coming over."

They don't cancel the royal visit, but Eddie refuses to make an appearance. Instead, he watches from behind the curtains of the office window like a creep. The Prince looks dashing in his tailored suit, smiling for the cameras, joking with the kids, listening to Chrissy with polite attention as she shows him around the place. Eddie loves her so fucking much, will be forever grateful that she filled in for him.

Even if she tied it to one condition.

He watches how she whispers something into the Prince's ear, how his smile melts into an angry frown. How they both turn to stare at the window. Eddie flinches away from the curtains, heart in his throat.

He wonders if the dungeons have WiFi.

"You have exactly ten minutes," says the bodyguard. It’s the same one from yesterday, the one called Hop. Eddie doesn’t reply, just nods stiffly. Hop looks at him like he's contemplating murder, but then he ducks out of the room with a muttered all clear.

Prince Steven steps in. The door clicks shut. Silence descends.

"Well," Eddie finally mumbles. "I guess this is the part where I bow and grovel."

The Prince snorts. "Please don't, Mr Munson. I'd rather you save us both the embarrassment."

Eddie winces, because ouch. That stings more than it should.

Neither of them says anything for a long while. The clock on the wall keeps ticking.

"So," Eddie rocks awkwardly on the soles of his combat boots. "Who's Dustin?"

Those plush lips twitch into a smile and those pretty eyes light up. For a moment, Eddie glimpses the boy from yesterday.

"My housekeeper's kid. He'd be so mad if he knew I met you and didn't get him an autograph."

He says it with genuine concern, like he's honestly afraid of getting shit from a little kid, and Eddie can't help but grin.

"Don't worry, I won't tell."

This gets him a huffed laugh.

"He'd love this place, it's really cool."

When Eddie looks up, the Prince is looking at the picture frames on the walls, photos of smiling kids and drawings in crayon and watercolors. Eddie sighs and joins him, stares long and hard of a picture of Max on her skateboard.

"Thanks. I, um … grew up around here, and I wanted to give these kids a safe space. Where they can just … be children. I never really had that myself."

A thoughtful hum. Those hazel eyes are soft with an expression that looks weirdly like longing. Eddie remembers watching stories about the royal family on his uncle's rickety TV set. A solemn-faced boy his own age trailing behind his parents outside of private jets, in lush parks and gilded halls. Always in expensive suits. Always well-behaved. Always way too grown-up.

Well, shit.

"Listen, your highness …"

"Steve is fine."

"Listen, Steve …" Eddie lets the name linger on his tongue, finds that he likes the feel of it. "I guess I've been a bit of a dick."

A hint of that bitchy little smile. "You guess correctly."

"Whatever," Eddie huffs. "I'm trying to apologize here, so may I? Or are you throwing me in the dungeons?"

"The …" Steve blinks. Then, his mouth starts to curl. "We, um … don't actually do that anymore. Unless you're into that, then I'm sure it could be arranged."

Eddie sputters and Steve bites back a laugh.

"If you really wanna make up for it," he then says. "I hear your concert next week is all sold out? Dustin would love backstage tickets."

Eddie frowns.

"Dustin as in the kid or …"

"Steve?" Hop cracks the door open. "Time to go, c'mon."

Steve smiles, bright and sunshiny. "On my way."

He turns to Eddie, grabs a pen and a notepad from the chaos on the desk.

"Backstage tickets, two of them. I'll be expecting them by tomorrow."

When Chrissy bustles in not five minutes later, she finds Eddie in the office chair, staring morosely at the still drawn curtains.

"Eds? Everything okay?" Eddie just groans and hides his head in his hands, so she crouches down in front of him, hands on his knees. "He didn't give you shit, did he?"

"Shit? I wish. No, it's far worse than that." Eddie cackles hysterically and unclenches his fist, presenting a crumpled piece of notebook paper. "He gave me his number."

Part 3

All my holiday drabbles

#steddie #steve harrington x eddie munson #steve x eddie #steddie brainrot #steddie fanfic #fanfiction writer #fanfiction #fanfic #my writing #steddie holiday drabbles #hype's holiday drabbles

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mediumgayitalian · 3 months

Text

The infirmary door creaks slightly as Nico pushes it open, wood swollen in the summer heat. He freezes, listening for the sound of angry curfew harpies, but luckily there don’t seem to be any around (they tend to camp around the Hermes cabin, understandably).

The infirmary is much darker than it usually is, letting the three or four people in it overnight rest. Some softer lights are on at the nurse’s station, making the blonde head under them glow. Nico pads forward, steps a practiced silence on the clay tiles. He can’t see if Will has his hearing aids on under his hair; he probably does, because Nico can’t imagine him on duty without them. Either way, he makes sure to approach the medic from in front, tapping the counter when he’s close enough. Will doesn’t startle, only glances up, flashing a smile — he heard.

“Hey, darlin’,” he greets.

Nico rolls his eyes, firmly holding back the smile that tries to force its way on his face. “Hey.”

“Nightmares?”

Surprisingly, no, although maybe that’s just because Nico couldn’t fall asleep at all. After the third hour of trying — which was, frankly, remarkable, he should get an award for staying in his bed the entire time like the Mature Person He Is — he gave up, figuring he might as well put all his annoyance to good use. And Will, for some reason, is endlessly amused by Nico’s complaining, so it’s his personal mission to make the stubborn boy crack. One day, gods help him, Nico will turn that usually sunny grin into a scowl, just so he can make an irritating Apollo-related comment about it.

(He’s hoping for the same eye twitch he gets when he attempts any ‘Underworld-y stuff’).

“Something like that.”

Will hums, but doesn’t press. After a minute he gestures to the spinny chair behind the nurse’s station. Nico takes the hint, ducking through the half-door and sitting on the old leather.

He likes the infirmary at night. Maybe it’s a strange place for him to find so much peace — ghosts often linger here, many of them pained, and it always smells of rubbing alcohol and eucalyptus — but he likes it anyway. It’s less visually sterile than a hospital, more akin to an apothecary, and the whole place always feels warm. Will’s off-tune humming echoes quietly as he works, mixing with the soft snores of the few patients and the repetitive grinding sound of whatever poultice he’s currently preparing. If Nico wasn’t so randomly wired, the sounds would lull him to sleep. They have before.

“Prepping for tomorrow,” Will explains when he catches Nico looking. Some of the softness on his face fades as he tightens his jaw. “I’m sure we’ll need it.”

Nico uncurls slightly from the armchair, peering curiously forward. He’s not sure what’s more intriguing — whatever healing magic Will is prepping, or the uncharacteristic bitterness in Will’s voice.

“…Need what?”

“Everything.”

“Oh, well, thank you, that clears things up nicely.”

Will snorts. His grip on the mortar loosens.

“C’mere, then, I’ll show you.”

When Nico is close enough, he sets down the pestle, revealing very fine, almost bleach-white powder.

“Shells,” he reveals, pointing to several still-whole ones. He smiles slightly. “It’s the kids’ job to gather ingredients, and this is probably their favourite. They’ll play with the naiads for hours to get enough, Gracie’s always tuckered right out after.”

Nico matches his small smile. Gracie, Will’s youngest sibling, is a cute kid, obsessed with mermaids. He imagines collecting seashells from the Greek version of mermaids is practically a dream come true.

“What’re the shells for?”

“They’re pure calcium carbonate, basically. Good for dyspepsia, which won’t help for capture the flag, but also good for caustic burns, which will.”

Nico nods. He has, for some reason, spent enough time around the apothecary to pick up more than a few medical terms – largely because Will talks like he swallowed a pre-med textbook, which isn’t that far off from reality.

“Why use shells, though?” He gestures to the powder Will is still crushing, even though Nico can’t imagine it getting any finer. “Why not just have Chiron order the stuff? It’d probably be easier.”

“Yeah, but it wouldn’t work as well.” Apparently finally satisfied with the crushed shells, Will tips the powder out into a much bigger bowl, then sets it aside. He carefully selects six of the whole shells and begins to crush them – Nico winces, because the first few cracks are much louder than he was expected in such a quiet room. “Whatever Chiron ordered would be crushed by machines, in a factory, probably made from chalk or limestone. It would still function as an antacid, sure, but –” Will pauses for a minute, facing Nico fully. His voice is softer, and he has to lean in to catch it. “Seashells held living beings. For years, they were homes. Maybe for an entire lifetime. And they were gifted, willingly, by spirits of the sea, and then crushed by human hands. At least three exchanges. There’s magic in that, and that makes them more powerful.”

As Will crushes the new shells, Nico steps up beside him, reaching into the larger bowl and digging into the powdered carbonate. The granules are finer than sand, fine as sugar – he buries his hands in them and concentrates, and in seconds he can feel the tiny remnants of spirits in them. Not souls – there is no human death lingering here – but thousands and thousands of fractured pieces of something that was once living. His arms tingle, goosebumps raising all over his flesh.

“Huh.”

Will grins. “Yep.”

Nico watches him out of the corner of his eye as he works. He is totally focused on his work, face slacking again as he sinks into the motions of it: twist, twist, scrape, check grain size; over and over, again and again. His arms must ache. It’s something like three in the morning, he’s been on duty since ten. Nico knows him too well to assume he’s been sitting idly for any of that time.

“Why don’t you ever play capture the flag?” he asks, surprising himself. He’s not usually one to break silences. Will tenses slightly beside him, and the rest of the words come tumbling out of his mouth, although he was unaware he’d been holding them in so tightly. “I mean, you’re always on shift. I know you’re in here a lot, but you like training, usually. Especially stuff where you get to run around. I would’ve guessed that –”

“I know that capture the flag is important,” Will interrupts. His hands have gone still. Nico snaps his mouth shut immediately. “Obviously. Everyone needs to keep their skills sharp.” His presses his lips together. A particularly loud snore from one of the patients makes them both look over, and it’s a long time before he speaks again.

“But I don’t like when we play war against each other,” he says. He turns to Nico and smiles humourlessly. “I know it’s dumb. But it just feels…I dunno. I’ve treated the injuries after the fact for years – too many of them aren’t accidents. Besides, I’m more help here, anyway. Chiron’s a field medic, anything more serious will need the infirmary.”

He abruptly turns back to crushing the shells, clearly ending the conversation. He has also begun humming again – aggressively and upbeat. The tension is gone from his shoulders, but his knuckles are white against the grip of the pestle.

He is not telling the full truth, Nico thinks. Will is a bad liar. All Apollo kids are, but Will especially – he squirms.

But Will is his friend. And Nico can take a hint – or maybe a silent begging to drop it.

“What time does your shift end?” Nico asks. “Six?”

Will slumps in relief, shooting him a genuine smile. “Yeah. Austin’s taking over for the morning while I sleep, then I’m back again at 2, just before the game starts.”

“I’ll stay up with you, then.”

“Absolutely not, doctor’s orders, Nico, you need to sleep –”

Nico places his hands over Will’s shaking ones, fleeting. His stomach erupts in a way he’s learned to ignore. The tremor in the medic’s hands finally stills, grip loosening.

“I’ll stay up with you.”

“Yeah,” Will says finally, starting the pestle up again. “I guess that’s fine.”

———

part two

#i have lore again #i love lore #pjo #percy jackson and the olympians #hoo #heroes of olympus #pjo hoo toa #nico di angelo #will solace #will/nico #nico/will #solangelo #deaf will #pining nico #pre relationship #ctf au #fic #my writing #longpost

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ohdeersthings · 1 year

Text

Beautiful Sounds

Neteyam x Metkayina!Deaf!FReader

Summary: Neteyam finds a way

Warnings: Fluffffffff for daayyys, angst 👀 we are caught up in our feelings, not proof read

A big thank you to @iikatsukii for this idea! I hope you like it, I tried my best 😭😂

Part 2 to this little beauty:

Neteyam thought he could never love anything so much until he met you. Learning your clans ways brought new insights to how the world can be so different but still beautiful. You were an example of that.

Even though you couldn't hear, you learned how to dance with elegance from the vibrations in the sand, he saw the patience you had with children, taking the time to guide them and understand what they needed, sometimes better than their own parents.

What really took his heart was how you found the simple joys of everyday life. The look of bliss on your face when the ocean sprays you with its salty mist, the contempt in your eyes as you looked at your family and friends. The love you expressed through your hands and body when you hugged or kissed him.

He thought you deserved to hear more than anyone, which is why after two months of communicating and deliberation with Norm and Max, they finally made the first set of hearing implants for Na'vi. A beautiful aqua to match your skin tone, and water proof so you could hear underwater as well.

As Neteyam watched from the shoreline as you raced your sister on Ilus, he couldn't help but feel nervous. He's practiced so hard with you and the others with sign language and yet he still continued to mess up sometimes. You never got angry or upset, just flashed your beautiful smile and repeated what he was trying to sign so he could practice again.

He'd especially been practicing for something special to you when the time came right, of course getting past Tonowari and Ronal wouldn't be easy. Taking one last glance at your figure, he turned and headed for the Marui pod that he knew your family resided in.

~.~

Ronal hissed and threw a shell at Neteyam which he ducked out of the way of, "You dare ask me such a question! That demon device will ruin her!" Tonowari just shook his head at his mate, she was nearing the end of her pregnancy and was very cranky.

"It'll help her hear! She can finally here all of you and everything around her!" Neteyam raised his hands in the air, trying to calm the angry pregnant woman. "Ronal, maybe she should give it a chance," Tonowari reasoned, Ronal growling lowly.

"You want to change her? You asked us mere days ago to mate and now you want this!? I pray to Great Mother to have the strength to not bury you alive! Skxawng!"

"No I don't want to change her! I want her to experience things that I know she longs for," Tonowari placed his hand on Ronal's shoulders giving her a look to calm down. Ronal did so, but not happily.

Both turned towards the young man, which he took as a continuation, "I promise, I love everything about her. The way she looks at the horizon with longing, wanting to go there and explore. The way (Y/n) wants to join in on everything everyone is doing but knows she can't hear everything, you may not have seen it, but I can. I hate that she cannot experience the wonderful sounds of the world, but if I could help her make one thing...The thing I know she may long for the most happen, I would crawl through viper thorns to do so, so please, let me try this," he begged at this point, taking a knee before the leaders of the clan.

Glancing at eachother, Tonowari spoke for both, "Very well, if she wants to try it, you have our blessing," Neteyam grinned, thanking them as he ran out the Marui pod to find you.

"You know he would never hurt her, Ronal?" Tonowari smiled at his mate gently, who rolled her eyes in annoyance, "Maybe Eywa will give me strength to not bury you, Tonowari,"

~.~

You huffed air laughing as Neteyam grabbed your hand, dragging you through the trees that surrounded the island.

Tapping his hand, he turned to you so he could watch, 'Where are we going?'

'Somewhere private' he replied, your smile wide as you let him carry on guiding you.

Coming to a beach front, your eyes saw a wonderful sight of a hand weaved blanket on the beach with some delicious fruit you adored. The sun was almost the horizon, the beauitful shades of orange and pink beginning to shine on the clouds and sky.

He led you down and helped sit you on the blanket, his eyes holding nothing but love for you. You returned the gaze, hand caressing his face as he lightly pecked your lips.

"I have something, for you," he gestured, you nodding, eyes staring at his figure so you wouldn't miss anything.

Pulling out a blue box from his hip bag, he opened it to reveal two small, weird looking devices. Your eyebrow furrowed, glancing up at him confused. Was this a forest thing? Why did it look like something sky demons made?

"Oh right, um," Neteyam mumbled to himself, licking his lips as he put the box down, hands moving slowly as he thought each sign out.

"These," points to the box, "help you, hear," he tried to keep it short and to the point. Yet this only confused you more.

"I cannot hear, how can these help me?" Your hands were moving quickly, 'I don't understand-' he took your hands into his, holding them close to his chest to try and regain your attention, your eyes narrowed with unease and confusion.

He let go slowly, his hands moving the same time as his lips, "These go in here," he gestured to your ear, "and when turned on, they let you hear," you slowly nodded, Neteyam picking up the box and holding it to you, the sunset reflecting of your eyes as you nodded to him.

Closing your eyes as you felt his hand gently place the small things in your ears, the other holding your cheek in reassurance.

He pressed on something, a small high pitched noise filled your ears which made your eyes shoot open. You looked around frantically, hands covering your ears and the devices from the shock of hearing something for the first time.

Neteyam placed his hands over yours, holding your head as your eyes turned to him with fear. He breathed in and out, eyes trained on yours as you began to copy him, slowly relaxing.

You both moved your hands, your ears twitching as you heard something else. A soft roaring and crashing sound that made you look to the water, eyes filling with tears as you signed, "waves?" His face lighting up and nodding, taking your hand as he helped you up.

You stared out into the giant mass of blue, the sound of the waves flooding every sense you had. The distant calls of birds and animals soon followed, all overwhelming but yet so majestic in your eyes.

Your hands came to cover your mouth and muffle your sobs as you began to cry. The world sounded different than you had ever thought, it sounded better.

Neteyam wrapped his arm around your shoulder to comfort you. Your shoulders slowly stopped shaking as you gazed up at him.

"(Y/n)" he whispered, your face morphing into one of disbelief. He sounded as gorgeous as he looked.

You tapped his lips, a grin on your face as you turned your body to face him completely now. "You can hear me?" He asked, your smile wide as you nodded. "There's something I want to ask you. I thought I would ask like this, but I want to ask you in your own way," he gently caressed your face as you nodded, feeling a small rush of adrenaline from all the excitement.

You never thought he would go through all this trouble for you, this just showing you how much he truly cared.

He held your hands, giving them a squeeze before taking a step back to see your whole body. Also incase he had to run from rejection.

'You are so beautiful,' he started, your eyes narrowing in curiosity, wondering where he was going with this. You were very flattered though as you shyly shuffled.

'When I look at you, I think of home' he started fumbling a little bit, but you smiled at him which gave him strength to keep going. "I want to spend the rest of my life, with you,'

Your mind suddenly went blank, realizing what he was asking, 'Will you be my mate?' He finished with a shy smile, but you were only staring at him with a blank expression.

A cold shiver ran down his spine, you weren't saying or doing anything. Just starting at him.

"(Y/n)?" He asked softly, taking a step forward to grab your fingers, but you jerked back suddenly, your ears flattened as you turned and ran.

Neteyam could only stare heartbroken as you disappeared from view, the sun now down below the horizon.

~.~

'You did what!?' Tsireya signed, but you didn't see it as you were hiding your face in your hands in shame. Tsireya tapped you, your glossy eyes looking at her disbelief ones. 'You left him without an answer? I thought you loved Neteyam!' 'I do!' You began, teeth gritting together, 'why would he want me?' You sobbed, tears begging to flow passed your waterline, Tsireya looking at you in empathy. 'I cannot hear, I cannot talk well, I only babble like newborn baby,' you began to hiccup, 'He gave me these to help me hear, I wish to talk to him like he can with me, but my voice is ugly,'

Tsireya grabbed your shoulders, her look fierce as she shook her head, "No! Your voice is beautiful and unique!" She knew you didn't take the sky peoples devices out, so you could hear her.

And hear her you would.

"Neteyam begged mother and father for weeks before they agreed! He planned these hearing devices for months. He loves you, all of you!" Tsireya exclaimed, your whimpers making her hug you close. "If you wish to speak to him, we will help you," Tsireya declared, her heart breaking for her older sister.

(Y/n) spent her whole life looking after others, even with the loss of hearing. Tsireya felt a few tears slip through her own eyelashes as she's never seen you this upset before. You were always smiling for everyone, the first one out and the last one in. You never told anyone how you truly felt.

Tsireya promised to Eywa she would make it right.

~.~

You avoided Neteyam for days, diving out of sight when you caught a glimpse of the oldest Sully sibling, your heart filled with guilt. You never meant to hurt him, but how could you face him before you were ready.

The Sully siblings, aside from Neteyam, knew what you were doing and tried their best to help both sides, but they still felt bad for their oldest brother.

Your own siblings helped you morning and night in getting your words more precise and clean, the pronunciation being the hardest as you technically never had to speak Na'vi or English before.

You sat in that beach shore cove Neteyam had brought you to only days prior, your eyes clenched in frustration as you tried again.

"oil ngatee kameee," the simple phrase of 'I see you' fell from your lips as you groaned in your throat. You were never going to get it, they sounded slurred together and it was hard to understand.

Taking a deep breath, you closed your eyes and tried again, "oel ngati kameie," this time it sounded better, but you really had to think and enunciate with your lips.

Head falling into your hands, you felt a few tears slip out. Why did Neteyam choose you? There are better girls, ones who weren't at a disadvantage like you were.

Standing up, you turned to see Neteyam right behind you.

You gasped inwardly, taking a few steps back. Neteyam only stared at you with a inquiring look, but you could see the hurt in his eyes too.

'I'm sorry,' you signed, looking down so your bohemian knotless braids covered your face. You couldn't face him. 'I'll leave now,' you made to scurry past him when he grabbed your hand, your breath hitching as you were frozen in place.

He carefully walked around to face you, his face looking solem at your stiff body. 'Why?' He questioned, you feeling tears staring to build up. 'Many girls better than me,' you answered, his shocked expression taking you off guard. 'No one is better than you, I only want you, now and forever,' he signed passionately, your tears streaming down your face as you shook your head.

'I sound like a baby, I cannot talk like an adult,' you desperately tried to get him to see, but he only shook his head at you.

'I have never heard your voice, but your quiet huff bring music to my ears. My heart yearns for yours so that they may beat together. Make their own sound, together. As one," Neteyam emphasized, never seeing you look so down heartened as you did right now.

Lo'ak had finally cracked and told him that you'd been practicing your voice and speech so that you could be better. Better for him. When all Neteyam wanted was you. He was so lost these last few days, never seeing you and his thoughts running wild on why you rejected him.

'Please, I stand here with my heart for you. I only want you, (Y/n)," he whispered, pressing his forehead to yours, his eyes closed in pain as he wished you could see yourself how he does.

"Neteyam," you whispered, his eyes shooting open as your lips twitched. "Yes," you said answered, his face changing rapidly between emotions.

"Y-yes? Yes you'll be my mate?!" He exclaimed, his eyes turning glossy as he realized you'd just spoken to him. You laughed and nodded, Neteyam cackling as he picked you up and spun you around.

"She said yes!" He yelled out, both of you now laughing like idiots as he fell back, both of you landing in the sand.

You rolled over, lips connecting with his with urgency as he gave it right back. Both of you in each other's embrace, fitting perfect together like a puzzle.

'I love you,(Y/n)' he signed, eyes filled with adoration cause you to smile back shyly, "I love you, Neteyam,"

Even though Neteyam had given you the blessing of being able to hear, the most beauitful sound you'd ever heard was his voice.

You couldn't wait to listen to it for the rest of your life.

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

@eywas-heir @jimfiqs @minkyungseokie

@bealone-prm @thecrazyswamp

@he110hon @urforevermore

@iikatsukii

#avatar #avatar the way of water #avatar: the way of water #neteyam #neteyam x metkayina!reader #neteyam x reader #neteyam x y/n #neteyamxdeafreader #neteyam x you #neteyam x na'vi!reader #neteyam x oc #atwow fanfiction #atwow imagines #atwow angst #atwow x reader #atwow neteyam

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jenicaclarisse · 3 months

Text

NOZEL SILVA

What’s it like dating the serious and disciplined nozel silva

writing: canon info, fluff to fluff, relationship headcanons and husband nozel being a cutie pie cause he is. Do not see many fics about him so I’ll do it ✋

Fragile - Laufey

MEETING:

Getting to know him was awkward but yet interacting with him left you a feeling of curiosity and intrigued of his mysterious nature. How he kept to himself and remained poised to reflect his high status. You assumed he was the serious type and he is wholeheartedly

Overtime you noticed his mannerisms, despite his love for wine he couldn’t handle it very long as you noticed his usually straight back being slightly more hunched as the night grew.

“I assume you can’t handle your wine very well Mr. Silva.” You sat at one of the chairs provided by the bar.

Nozel didn’t notice you at first as he stubbornly took one more sip of his glass. He looked at you with a raised brow and crossed his arms.

“Women shouldn’t comment on a man’s capacity to handle alcohol.”

“So it’s the truth?”

Nozel nudged his lip forward.

“Silence yourself.”

Despite that, you giggled at his expense as his cheeks flushed from the alcohol. He asked what was so funny and you replied was his face. Nozel quickly palmed at his face as he looked at you once more.

“I think I have seen you from the past.”

“Oh? Do enlighten me.” You replied.

He proceeded to tell you of his sightings of the times he had caught you walk by and or during your missions where you were with your squad.

That night he asked you of the things you experienced as a magic knight. You replied hastily as his questions came right after the other. All the time his face was adorably serious, he couldn’t even finish his wine.

In return, you asked him what he liked. He gestured to his wine.

“Wine.” He simply said.

“But you couldn’t finish it though.” You remarked.

“Then don’t ask what I like” He crossed his arms.

You laughed at his face as he decided to down half of the left over wine from his glass.

“And now you did finish it”

Nozel gulped down and nudged you to the side in slight annoyance.

“It will do you well if you silenced yourself”

You laughed once again as he now faced away from you with a gruffy sound coming from his throat.

As the night came to a close, you and him left the bar as you clutched your bag from outside the establishment. Nozel turned to you.

“I look forward… to more conversations with you.”

Despite yourself, you managed to peak the interest of Nozel. Although there wasn’t a personal meeting for much later, the both of you indulged in correspondence via letters

There he expressed his interest clearly, answering whatever you have asked in the letters you have sent. He very passionately agreed to your whims and there you learned that he can be sweet

If the flowers at your doorstep wasn’t enough then surely the desserts, dresses and jewelry can surely change your mind.

He brought you to many dates most of which was flying over the city of clover as per your request. But on times where you preferred to not tire out nozel by flying out into the sky for hours on end the both of you settled for a nice dinner, roasted duck.

Soon you began to realize that Nozel did have a cute side. He was slightly clumsy and even socially awkward at times, how he’s not completely aware that animals tend to dislike him and the way his braid makes him even more angry looking

You even teased him. “Angry bird” you call him

You ask nozel to teach you spells on times where he had free time which he very begrudgingly agreed to do.

You often pull at his braid and he slaps your hand in annoyance. But sometimes, sometimes he may let you braid it yourself.

One thing you noticed much later was the fact that he had a fan base! Everytime he appeared near the plaza or on times where he had to fight you would often hear cheers from the crowd. Mostly women.

But you rest assured. Knowing that man was yours.

———————

Nozel Silva is so fine smhhh

#nozel silva x reader #nozel silva fluff #nozel x reader #nozel silva #black clover x reader #black clover #nozel silva x reader fluff #black clover fluff #black clover x reader fluff

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house-of-slayterr · 4 months

Note

beloved <3 what are you Halsin headcanons??

ps do you also like the polymance w Astarion? i wanna know your takes!! <3

Omg ok it’s happening!!! Ahhhh!

Halsin:

Halsin attempts to be a gentle man in his conscious actions. He wants to be soft and cause as little unnecessary harm as possible. That being said, with his size that’s a difficult thing to be. I feel he grows frustrated easy when he accidentally breaks things (or people). But on the flip side, if you unleash his rage, this hardly a way to put a lid on it. He’s a large beast, and as such, it seems so are his emotional states. He is terrifying to the enemy and it’s such a harsh contrast to him off the battle field when he’s safe and happy. It’s something I think sets him aside more than the other companions.

Halsin is also a patient man. It takes a lot of patients and self control to be someone with his gifts. The world is lucky his quicker to compassion than to draw his claws, and bear his teeth. I feel like he’s one to give several warnings.

He’s a very goofey guy. This man has a full belly laugh like good old American Santa Klaus. All of camp can hear it when you make him laugh. The best place to be in the world is with him lying on his back, and you on top of him during a sunset as you try to tell little stories to feel his chest rumble. It lulls you to sleep like a purring cat after awhile, like a sleeping agent for your heart, calming it in all the chaos. (Bear cubs can purr like cats sometimes and it’s adorable)

He’s an old romantic. I feel like this man like to try to play things by the book in his head. He knows what relationships are supposed to look like and sound like and he sounds so stiff when he starts off by using his “script” it works because by the gods does he have that shit down to pretty much a sex science at this point, knowing exactly what to say to get what he wants. But that’s not what draws you in. It’s the potential of getting the spontaneity out of him. Getting him to say things he normally wouldn’t, how he normally wouldn’t. Add people he normally wouldn’t. He’s a very flexible man, he’s happy as long as you’re happy. But his best flirting comes when he’s tried, or angry, or those rare moment he gets jealous. Lord help you if Halsin is jealous and the solution is he can’t just have both of you- good luck walking anytime soon.

He’s very in tune with his emotions. He’s a sensitive guy. I mean he loves ducks for fucks sake. This man is precious. He will treat you as if you are such too. Everyone is small and fragile compared to him. He’ll protect your body, mind, soul and feelings with his life. Defend you with his last breath, do anything just to bring a smile to your face. This man is nothing if not devoted 100% to what he does. He starts to become in touch with your emotions too. Being able to sense them from halfway across camp and always comes running ready to be your Druid in shining armour

Now Astarion is a different beast literally , literally… he is a vampire. I wouldn’t say there’s much in common between vampires and Bears. I’d say other than their insatiable appetites. This spritely little elf is more akin to a cat than a bear.

The dynamic is different apart of course, but if you’re with Halsin first, he’ll notice. He’s not an idiot, far from it actually. He pays close attention to his darling and their needs and wants. Especially when it comes to body language. He wouldn’t exactly be mad you’re attracted to Astarion, he can’t blame you. He’d be more upset the longer he observed this attraction grow and you either said or did nothing about it.

I know I said earlier Halsin is a patient man, but one thing he’s not patient for is watching you “suffer” which might be a dramatic word in this case (Astarion would find it quite fitting, you suffering without his love) he will call you out on this attraction quite quickly and ask as politely and openly as possibly what you want to do about it. It’s no secret the wood elf may also find said vampire attractive.

Astarion would agree too it, not without some fuss at first, calming theatrics of wanting you all to himself but it’s fine to share with some “oaf” as if he too is not attracted to the Druid. Honestly if you keep your sanity during this phase of the relationship, congratulations love, you’ve survived the hardest hardship in all of Baulder’s gate.

But once that awkward phase is over. RIP your legs again. RIP your everything actually. Bestie are you sure you want to do this? A bear and a vampire. In love and obsessed with you… wanting to ravage you body at your earliest convince pretty much multiple times a day when they can? Yeah yeah- you’re totally sane, totally cool, totally normal. The rest of your companions aren’t looking at you like you’re the scariest motherfucker to ever walk this earth. Between the bite marks and the claw marks, and let’s be honest now you’ve probably dislocated a hip at least once- how are you feeling? Truly. That being said, they do go easy on you sometimes and give you a break and let you watch them go at each other , and boy is that a sight. (I’m not drooling, you’re drooling)

It’s the after sex but that’s really what you carve though. The part that makes you feel safe and whole and loved. They wouldn’t dare part from you even if the entire camp was engulfed in flames in that moment. Nothing could pry them from their lovers side. They look at you like you put the moon on the sky, the your he very reason their hearts beat, like you’re the only reason they’re still fighting (probably half the reason they’re still standing, let’s be honest, you’ve saved they’re asses more than enough times and they’re so greatful for that) but it’s these moments that you crave. There simple, full of love and lust and simple honest words and looks and touches. Everything so easy, and feels right.

It would be a moment like this one of your boys would choose to make this arrangement permanent. Perhaps Astarion with an off handed comment. Something about “well maybe we should just wed eternally, I hear honeymoon sex is even better” he would grin like a vampire at a blood bank. And it would be silly, but it would be genuine. Halsin would make him try again and give you something proper later if you asked. Or on the flip side, after a hard battle, Halsin would scoop you both up in his arms kissing you each deeply and say “we ahh like join our hearts as one, so we never fear one it’s like to be apart” and even though the situations not ideal and you may be exhausted and covered and dirt and blood and whatever else, it’s the three of you and that’s what matters.

The sleeping arrangements are simple. It’s always Halsin’s tent. That man in massive. Astarion won’t admit it but he creeps into his tent about halfway through each night, never wanting to start on his arms but always craving them. And you sleep happily on top of him, squishing both your boys as close to you as possible. And they wouldn’t have it any other way. They love you and you love them, it’s plain for all the world to see.

AN: sorry if this is bad, I don’t own the game, all I have to go on is fan fics, behind the scenes, fan info, and watching my friends play the game and info dump about it. If anything is inaccurate I’m so sorry 😭 I tried based on how I view them at least.

#Halsin #baulders gate 3 #halsin x astarion #astarion x reader #halsin x reader #bg3 headcanons #polycule

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luimagines · 7 months

Text

Good Guardian (1000 follower raffle)

Our second place winner was @twistedfairytalefantasy and they asked for romantic FD. Who was I to deny them? XD

Masterlist

Content under the cut!

You were walking along the path with the group of heroes when disaster struck. In an instant you were pushed to the ground. The sound of raining arrows and the pounding of thunderous hooves echoes around you. It was disorienting and chaotic and everyone was yelling.

Somewhere in the midst of this, when you had managed to get some of your bearings, you felt a hand grab onto the back of your shirt and effortlessly hoist you onto your feet. Large, strong hands gently brush over your shoulders and push you into a small alcove under a tree. The voice that leaves the larger than normal man is deep, commanding and leaves no room for argument of debate. He sounds angry. “Stay back, Jewel. I shall return shortly.”

“Oh- Ok…” You curl in on yourself. What else are you supposed to do? With a tone like that, it would be easy to get lost into the implications. His voice alone was enough to send shivers down your spine and yet this was not the time.

You sat down between the roots of the tree. You’re not sure what would have created a hole like this, but it was large enough to hide inside. Maybe it was a fox?

The sounds of battle raged around you. You could hear the boys nearby but they all seemed to have been handling things on their own just as well. Somewhere in the distance, you could hear the Fierce Deity taking out copious amounts of monsters. You knew that he would protect you. That was his purpose, his duty, the very breath in his lungs.

Suddenly you heard the unmistakable snorts of bokoblins coming in your direction. The hole you were sitting in was big, sure, but not deep enough to fully hide yourself in. You were a sitting duck if you didn’t move out of the way. You got to your feet in an instant, crouching down, hoping that the bushes and tall grass would hide you further.

It doesn’t.

The pair screech in devilish delight at the sight of you, raising their clubs high. Fear shoots through your veins like ice and you take off running. Naturally, they give chase.

You don’t even think about looking at your surroundings. You barely have enough breath to spare to scream for help. The only thing that you can get through your head is that you have to lose them- somehow.

One of them throws their club with better aim than you would have given them credit for. It hits your head with almost deadly precision. This time you yell and are knocked down to the ground. It’s familiar to the second this whole mess started. You’re disoriented, you’re on the ground- but this time you’re alone and in pain. And injured.

You have to push yourself up, but you can seem to figure out your left and your right to get back to your feet in time. You can vaguely feel something arm and wet going down the back of your neck and down your back. Strange, isn’t it?

Their snorts and cries surround you instantly and you're being pulled this way and that. It doesn’t help with the struggle to figure out which direction you’re facing to begin with. You get hit again. Your arms come up to weakly block the hits, covering your face and your head the best you can.

Another hit- then another- then-

“GET AWAY FOUL BEASTS!”

A deafening scream from the bokoblins. A soft quiet beat as they disappear from the space surrounding you. You hear footsteps rushing to your direction. But you know the voice. You know those steps. You’re afraid you’ve disappointed him.

His hand comes to your shoulders, gently, shaking. “My Jewel… My Darling… Speak, please.”

You flinch, turning in a way that has your back yelling at you. But you have to face him. Kinda. You can’t seem to open your eyes at the moment. There’s too much going on in your head and on your body. “...I’m sorry.”

“No.” He says. You can feel the Fierce Deity pick you up, like a treasure, and begin to move away from the spot to what you assume would be the makeshift camp. “I have failed to protect you. You shouldn’t apologize. I have failed my singular purpose.”

You bite your lip and try not to cry. It hurts. There’s so much pain. He takes notice, putting you down as gently as he can back onto the ground. He gently runs his hand over your face and your hair. He frowns and reaches to the back of your head. You swear he growls at the sense of your blood on his hands. You shiver again. It was a reminder that he is no more human than the creatures that attacked you.

He stands up. You hear it and panic, reaching out on an impulse. “Fierce-!”

He catches your hand and tenderly brings it back to your body. “I must go. I will fetch the healer. Stay.”

You open your eyes at last- not missing the unadulterated loathing on his face. His blade is unhitched from his back and he runs back into the battle with more ferocity than before. You can hear him yell. You can hear him scream. You can hear him take out all his pain and frustrations on the monsters that attack your traveling group.

The battle is over within the next five minutes. Many of the group have returned since the Fierce Deity has chosen to act upon his name sake. They felt that it was better (and safer) for them to get out of his way. Then they see you and you’re instantly tended to. You’re healed and bandaged up and given a quick meal to regain your strength.

The Fierce Deity returns solemnly. He’s still upset. It’s clear that the battle ended faster than he would have preferred it too.

He avoids your gaze.

You have to hold yourself back from whining as you make your way over to him. “...Fierce…”

He does not answer you.

You feel as if you might cry. You don’t want him to beat himself up about this. In the end, he had rescued you just like you knew he would.

“Fierce… look at me… please?” You try again, reaching for his hand.

He removes his hand from yours, albeit gently and sits down against the tree in a huff. He looks away from you again.

Your voice gets quiet as you kneel next to him. “Please don’t do this. I’d miss you.”

You reach for his hand again and this time he allows you to hold him. You crawl closer, sitting on your knees next to him. “I’m ok now… Look…”

He does, in fact, not look. Although his grip on your hand tightens marginally. “...I failed you.”

“You did no such thing.” You stress and crawl onto his lap. His shock is evident (as well the rest of the group but you’re ignoring them). “You saved me. How could that be worth pouting over?”

He appears taken aback. He clearly wasn’t expecting you to use those words. “...I am not…. Pouting…”

You smile, seeing the cracks in his carefully placed mask. “Yes you are. My Good Guardian, I had full faith that you would have come to my rescue. I’m just sorry that I worried you in the process.”

A non comical sound leaves him then. He reaches up to cup your jaw, gently reaching once more to the back of your head. He stays, fiddling with your hair gently before he pulls back to investigate his fingers. “...No blood…”

“All gone.” You agree, happy that the group helped you out with that.

He looks up- or rather- he looks directly into your eyes. A new facial expression comes over him. Before you have the time to piece together what it was, he takes your shoulders and pulls you toward him. He hugs you, wrapping his arms around you, keeping you securely on his lap. He buries his face into the crook of your neck, ignoring his massive size as he clings to you.

“...Never again… It… can not…”

He doesn’t finish his sentence. You hug him back, gently teasing the hair on the back of his head in hopes of soothing him. You hum and let him have his moment in relative peace. “...I don’t think it will. It’s alright.”

You pull back and he lifts his head to meet you head on. You kiss his cheek and move to get comfortable against him. You can feel his heart pounding but you’re not entirely sure what the cause was.

The Fierce Deity looks down at you and adjusts the way he holds you. He lets you rest against him and tenderly runs his hands over your back. It’s a light, feathery touch. As if he wants to ingrain in his head the way you are. Healed and cleaned.

“...Jewel-”

“Hush, Darling. Rest.”

#legend of zelda #fierce deity x reader #lu fierce deity #implied lu #linked universe #linkeduniverse #technically

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