#yeah i cracked open crush for this | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

roosterforme · 3 months

Text

Stateside | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley made a mistake last summer when he left for his deployment without ever asking you out, and then he thought about you a lot when he was gone. He was stateside again for less than a day when the other guys coerced him to help with a fundraiser at the Hard Deck. A friendly wager with the squad might not be the only thing he wins by the end of the night.

Warnings: Fluff, angst, drinking, swears

Length: 4500 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

Check out my masterlist for more. Banner made by @thedroneranger Written for Pick Your Poison

Bradley had barely been stateside for twenty four hours when he woke up in his bed at noon to an array of texts arriving all at once. Five months on an aircraft carrier in the middle of the Pacific Ocean with nothing much going for him left him surprisingly exhausted. It wasn't that he didn't want to see his friends, he just needed a full day to himself to readjust.

He groaned and rolled over after glancing at his phone and seeing the words Hard Deck in a message from Jake. He closed his eyes again after tossing his phone aside, but about ten seconds later, he cracked them open again. If there was one thing he had consistently thought about over the course of those five months, it was you. Your bright smile, your perfect laugh, your navy blue tee shirts that said The Hard Deck across the front.

When he reached for his phone and checked the message from Jake, he sat up in bed and rubbed his eyes. Maybe this could be an excuse to see you again sooner rather than later.

Hangman: Hey, we need you to come to the Hard Deck tonight. It's the annual charity event, and Bob can't make it. We're short a bartender. And don't try to bitch out of this, Phoenix told me you're home.

Bradley covered his face with his hand and thought long and hard about this. The real bartenders would be there to help which meant there was a chance you'd be one of them. If he volunteered for this, then maybe he'd find himself in close quarters with you for a few hours instead of the other Naval officers he'd been stuck with for months on end. Just the idea of accidentally bumping into you while pouring a beer had him texting Jake back.

Yeah, I'll be there.

Even though he was still pretty tired later in the afternoon, Bradley took a shower and then spent some extra time on his hair before dressing in his lucky shirt. That five month deployment was the reason he didn't ask you out during the summer, and now he was nervous to see you again. He had good intel from Penny that you'd been single the last time he saw you in August, but what if you had a boyfriend now? Or worse, what if you didn't even acknowledge him when you saw him?

He groaned as he looked in the bathroom mirror. Hours, possibly even days... that's how much time he'd had you on his mind while he was away. And for what? A crush on a girl who was probably too young for him? A cute bartender at the Navy hangout who definitely got asked out nightly? Shit. He was a lost cause.

And now he was going to be late if he didn't leave right away. He grabbed his keys, and headed out to his Bronco which he had missed dearly. So if nothing else, he'd get to cruise around later after the event. But on the ride to the bar, all he could imagine was how you'd look in the passenger seat, smiling at him at every stoplight and singing along to the radio.

"Fuck," he grunted as he parked next to Jake's truck before heading inside. He let his heart fill with hope as he strolled in to find Penny, Jake, Javy and Reuben behind the bar with two bartenders. But neither of them were you.

"Rooster!" Reuben cheered, and soon he was being clapped on the back and high fived by the guys he hadn't seen in months. It was nice, but he couldn't help but think that his smile would have been more genuine if you were here.

Jake smirked. "So glad you left your perch and joined us."

Bradley laughed as he gave Penny a hug. "Come on, man, I literally just got home."

Penny smiled up at him. "Thanks for filling in. It'll be great." Bradley really wanted to ask her about you, but then Penny patted him on the cheek before turning to reach under the bar top. "This will be a breeze for you guys," she said, handing matching shirts to the four of them. "Just a basic bar menu tonight. No super fancy cocktails. Just beer, wine, some pre-made sangria, and a few different kinds of shots."

Bradley started to unbutton his lucky shirt before pulling the new one on in its place. He smoothed his hand along the front of the blue shirt that said THE HARD DECK FIGHTS CANCER, and he noticed the two bartenders glancing at him. They were both cute but decidedly not what he had been hoping for tonight.

"Hey," he asked them with a nod. They smiled in response, so he decided to just go ahead and ask them about you.

"She quit a few weeks ago," the first one told him. "After she graduated from law school."

"She moved, too," said the second one. "Left San Diego."

Shit. He was too late after all, nodding in response to them as he pressed his lips together in a firm line. He'd never been any good at this kind of thing, which was why he always fell into casual relationships. What should he have done? Asked you out, gone on a handful of dates and then tried to persuade you to wait five months for him? Just for him to get deployed over and over again? That wouldn't have been fair to you.

But he didn't feel like it was fair to him either, because right now he was having a hard time even remembering exactly how pretty you were and the precise tone of your laughter. Probably for the best. At least he only needed to do this event for a few hours before he could leave and go for a long drive. He swallowed down his disappointment and turned toward the guys who were in the middle of conversation.

"How about a side wager?" Javy asked, tossing a bottle of vodka up into the air and catching it over and over again. "You know, for the charity?"

"What did you have in mind?" Bradley asked as Penny went to peek outside. "Because I doubt Penny will let us strip for charity again after last year. The two of you scuffed up the bar top," Bradley added, gesturing at Jake as well.

They both started laughing like idiots before Jake said, "Nah, let's give Penny a break this year and just tally up our tips at the end of the night. Whoever donates the least amount of tip money to the charity is the loser."

"Oh, that's a great idea," Javy said as he ate the orange slices and cherries that were meant to garnish the drinks. "What's the punishment for losing?"

Reuben smirked and said, "Loser has to report to the tarmac on Monday in his underwear. Instant push ups from Mav."

"Deal," Jake said.

"Absolutely," Javy agreed.

Three pairs of eyes settled on Bradley, and he slowly said, "Okay." If he strolled out of the locker room in just his underwear and boots on his first day back from a long deployment when he was supposed to sit down with the admirals and Maverick and have a debrief, he'd probably earn a greater punishment than just a few push ups. But it was for the charity, so he'd do it.

But he soon learned he'd made a mistake after Penny called out, "Let's get started," and propped the doors open. The first person through the door was Reuben's wife, followed by Javy's fiancee and Jake's girlfriend. And all of her sorority sisters.

"Shit," Bradley grunted. "Did you make me come here just so I would lose?"

Javy was handing out pint glasses that they could use as tip cups as he smirked, and Bradley was wondering if there was any way he could actually stuff his discreetly with cash from his own wallet.

"You'll be just fine," Jake drawled as the jukebox came blaring to life. But even the music was mocking him as Slow Ride started to play, and Bradley had people in front of him expecting him to make them drinks.

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Jake's girlfriend open her purse and start stuffing Jake's tip cup full. "I feel like that's considered cheating," Bradley told her, and she rolled her eyes and smirked before tucking five dollars into his cup as well.

"Don't tip Bradshaw, Sweets," Jake complained. "We made him come here as a buffer!"

"I knew it was a setup!" Bradley groaned as he listened to someone ask him for some wine and some beer. That was easy enough. He knew how to do that. Or at least he thought he did, but then one of the bartenders who had volunteered for the night told him he poured too much wine into the glass.

Then a woman asked him for a green tea shot, and he stared at her blankly. He leaned closer to Javy and asked, "What the hell is in a green tea shot?"

"I don't know," he replied as he poured two pints at the same time. "But you better figure it out, because your tip cup is still practically empty."

"Shit." He was scrambling to flag down the young bartenders again when he froze. He only caught a glimpse from the corner of his eye, but he knew it was you simply by the way you moved and the color of your hair. And then you sat down in the only empty stool left at the bar and smiled at him, your voice drawing his eyes up to your perfect face.

"Rooster. You're back."

The little thoughts and fantasies he'd indulged in while deployed had nothing on the real thing, and he knew he was blushing as you smiled and waited for him to respond. But it had been months since he'd been this close to you, and now he was really beating himself up for not trying to make you his sooner. Because if you were his, he could do all the things he wanted to do right now. Like kiss you.

"Rooster," you repeated with hesitation in your eyes, your voice softer, nearly drowned out by the jukebox.

"They said you quit," he blurted out as he leaned on the bartop, curious as to why you were here tonight. "And that you moved."

Your eyes went a little wider as you nodded, your smile still soft. "I did. You asked about me?"

"Can you make me a green tea shot or not?"

Bradley begrudgingly switched his focus to the woman next to you and sighed. He was about to tell her he didn't even know what that was, or that maybe she should fuck off so he could talk to you, but then you reached out and ran your fingers along the back of his hand.

Your touch was brief but intentional, and all of the irritation seemed to ease out of his body as his gaze snapped back to yours. "Yeah," you told the other woman as your finger grazed his knuckle one more time. "He can make you a green tea shot."

"I don't even know what's in it," he told you, with a helpless smile, trying to fight the urge to reach for your hand.

You kind of shrugged as you said, "I do. I'll talk you through it."

Bradley's smile grew which left you giggling as he said, "I'm kind of helpless back here. Nothing like you."

"Well, you can learn from the best," you told him, reaching out to squeeze his wrist before pointing to the many liquor bottles behind him. "Irish whiskey and peach schnapps," you told him, leaning on the bar now, so close that he just couldn't bring himself to turn away from you.

"Okay," he said, memorizing the exact color of your eyes. "Thanks for doing this."

You bit your lip and smiled up at him, and when Bradley moved just slightly closer, he thought he heard you whimper. Your eyes were full of emotion that reflected his own as you said, "Focus, Rooster. Irish whiskey and peach schnapps."

He nodded once and then finally moved away from you as he scanned the bottles and grabbed the two you told him. "Good," you said, pointing to the mini fridge and saying, "now get the sweet and sour mix. It's in a pink jug. Yeah, you got it. Now you need a half ounce of each."

Bradley listened to you explain how to use the shaker while he gave you another helpless look. "I'm just a simple beer or bourbon drinker," he said as he strained the drink that his customer had been waiting several minutes for into a shot glass.

You laughed and said, "I know you are, and it's kind of endearing that you don't know what you're doing. Now top it off with a splash of Sprite."

Bradley grabbed the soda gun, pressed the little green button and then looked up at you again. "This is endearing?" he asked, finally sliding the shot to the annoyed woman who unenthusiastically put a dollar in his tip cup and turned away.

"Very," you promised him. "And now I want you to make me a kamikaze shot."

He gave you a bland look, but his heart was pounding. "Are you joking right now?"

Bradley was hyper focused on your lips as you said, "Not at all. You can handle it. It's vodka, triple sec and lime juice. I prefer Finlandia. Impress me, and I'll leave you a nice big tip for the charity."

Then he groaned. He had forgotten about the wager and the other patrons looking for drinks and just all of it. He raked his fingers through his hair. "Thanks, but I'll probably still end up in my underwear at work on Monday morning."

When he pushed away from the bar again, your eyes dipped down to his jeans before snapping back up. "Underwear?"

"Yeah," he grunted as he reached for the type of vodka you liked best. You told him how much to use, and he dumped it in a shaker. "The guys coerced me into volunteering tonight. I literally just got home from deployment, but here I am... their scapegoat," he said, arms held out at his sides. "They threw out a side bet based on tip money, and next thing I know, all of their wives and girlfriends show up with a bunch of cash."

While he shook your kamikaze shot, he watched you turn first to your right and then to your left, eyeing up the overflowing tip cups in front of Reuben, Javy and Jake. Your lips parted, and you gaped at Bradley, but your eyes looked a little devious now. "You know, all of this makes a lot of sense since the guys made me come tonight."

Bradley carefully poured out your shot and asked, "What do you mean they made you come?" He realized his voice sounded annoyed, but how did they all have your phone number anyway? He'd been standing here thinking about asking you for it, but they were apparently already texting you.

You accepted the shot and took a small sip to taste it. "They kept messaging me earlier today, saying I absolutely needed to be here tonight. They said it was important I made it to the charity event." Then you tipped your head back, and Bradley was treated to the soft looking expanse of your neck as you swallowed down the rest of the shot he made. When you were done, you set the glass down and licked your lips as you dug some money out of your pocket. "That was delicious."

While you loaded his cup with all the cash in your pocket, Bradley tried to ask you where you lived now. If the guys were bugging you earlier today, you couldn't be that far. But before he could get a word out, you pushed yourself up so you were kneeling on the bar right in front of him, and he looked up at you as you grinned down at him.

"Don't worry, Rooster," you said as you ran your fingers through his hair. "I got you." Then Bradley was reaching for your hips. He didn't fucking care if the place was packed, he was ready to haul you off to the back hallway and ask you if he could kiss your pretty lips. You beamed at him as his hands met your body, but you just cupped your fingers around your mouth and shouted over the music, "Come get your drinks from Rooster! He knows how to make everything! But kamikazes are his specialty! And he's hot!"

His eyes went wide as you slipped out of his grasp and back onto your stool while an influx of mostly women queued up in front of him. "What did you do?" he asked, trying to mentally process an order for a cosmopolitan while stumbling over you calling him hot.

"I'm helping you not embarrass yourself at work. Keep the vodka out. Grab the Cointreau and a martini glass. We're about to show the guys what's up."

Bradley struggled through drink after drink as quickly as he could, but you never gave up on him. Occasionally you'd slide things out of his way or point out where he could find something he needed, and at some point you grabbed a second pint glass for his overflowing tip money. And all the while, he stole as many glances at you as he could while he worked.

When Penny eventually walked behind him, patted him on the shoulder and said there was less than an hour left of the event, she also shared a smile with you. But there was no hope. The other guys were already working on their third tip cups each. "I don't think I can make up the deficit," he groaned, pulling up the hem of his shirt and wiping his brow with it.

"Oh, that's a great idea," you mused, leaning across the bar and pulling his shirt up higher. "Take it off."

He stared at you as you tugged on the fabric. "Take it off?"

You nodded, the moevent exaggerated as you said, "Absolutely. Take your shirt off." As he looked around awkwardly before pulling his shirt over his head, you cupped your hands around your mouth once again and said, "He has six pack abs!"

Now the guys were glaring at him. "So do I!" Reuben complained.

"Don't you dare take your shirt off!" his wife told him, pointing at him in warning.

Bradley knew his cheeks were flushed, and all he really wanted to do was talk to you and hopefully kiss you. And he really wanted to do all of that with his shirt on, because he felt a bit like a stripper now as you reached for a third tip cup. The cash was filling it up quickly, and he smirked as he thought about Reuben, Jake or Javy in their underwear instead of him. And it was all for a charity after all.

"Make him use the shaker!" you urged a woman who looked like she was in her seventies and holding a crisp fifty dollar bill. "Make him flex."

Bradley groaned your name which sent you into a fit of laughter, your second empty shot glass still in front of you. "This isn't right," he complained half heartedly as he shook the older woman's Mai Tai with flexed abs and biceps.

"It is so right," you told him, and he appreciated that you were scoping out the other guys' tip cups instead of looking at him right now. "Keep going. It's going to be so close." And then that fifty ended up in Bradley's cup when he handed over the cocktail, and you said, "Or maybe not!"

"Last call for the fundraiser!" Penny shouted over the crowd, and Bradley almost sighed in relief when the last few people ordered beers and a glass of wine. And then it was all over, and he had a huge amount of cash in front of him along with you. But he didn't care about the tips as much as he did getting to finally talk to you. The fundraiser was technically over, and you were looking at him the same way he was looking at you.

When he took a breath to suggest you and he go for a walk, he felt a hand on his bare back. It was one of the young bartenders who was helping out, and she said, "I can count up your tips for you," with a smile.

"Nope," you said, reaching for his cups yourself and shooting her a glare. "I'll do his. You go help Coyote." You didn't move again until her hand slipped off of his back and she walked away, and then you looked at Bradley and asked, "What are you going to do for me if you win?"

He watched as you quickly sorted the bills into efficient piles as he pulled his shirt back on and leaned against the bar. It had quieted down significantly, and now Penny was taking a few drink orders while everyone else seemed to move to the tables. He felt like he had a moment of privacy with you as he said, "I guess that depends. Apparently you moved away, Sweetheart."

"I did," you confirmed with a smirk as you counted up his twenties.

"But you came back tonight."

You rolled your eyes, still smiling as you moved to the pile of tens. "I'm not too far away. I took a full time job and moved to Del Mar. The guys told me I needed to be here tonight for a special surprise. They said something I had been missing was returning. So I came down."

Bradley's fingers flexed on the edge of the bartop. "They did?"

You looked a little vulnerable as you stacked the bills in one pile and said, "Eight hundred and seventy one dollars."

He nodded once and pushed the money aside without really looking at it. "You'd been missing something, Sweetheart?" he pressed gently, heart pounding in his chest.

You bit your lip as your eyes drifted closed when he rubbed his thumb across your cheek. "I guess I must have asked the guys one time too many if they knew when you'd be back from your deployment."

"Oh," he rasped as you looked at him again. "You missed me?"

"Yes," you whispered. "I was going to ask you out, but then you were just gone. And they told me you were deployed, and I thought I really missed my chance. And I didn't even know if you were single or not, so I-"

Bradley had heard enough, so he kissed you. Just a soft press of his lips to yours, but you practically crawled onto the bar to get closer to him. And it was better than he spent the last five months imagining it might be. He could taste the vodka and lime on your tongue as it met his. Your fingers gently combed through his hair again, and he moaned, "I missed you too, Sweetheart."

Your laughter was soft and sweet as your nose brushed against his, and then he jerked back a few inches as Reuben shouted. "Yo, Rooster! There's time for that later, man! How much tip money did you make?"

"Eight hundred and seventy one," you replied as your fingers trailed down his scarred cheek to rub his mustache before you pecked him on the lips. The three guys groaned in unison, and Bradley watched your face light up in a beautiful smile.

"This is not why we told you that you had to come tonight!" Jake whined, pointing at you and pouting. "You were supposed to distract him, not help him win! He was just supposed to turn into a bumbling mess and admit he has feelings for you!"

You turned away from Jake, and you asked Bradley, "So, do you have feelings for me?"

He huffed out a laugh before he hopped up to sit on the bar, swung his long legs over to the other side and hopped down again. You jumped from your stool and into his arms when he said, "I thought about you the whole time I was away, Sweetheart. I wanted to ask you out in the summer, but I didn't think it was right to hope you'd wait almost half a year for me to be stateside. For us to be together again."

"Bradley," you moaned. His hands found your hips just like earlier, and this time he pulled you snug against him while your fingers teased through his hair. "If a guy is worth waiting for, then I'd wait forever."

He kissed you again, tasting and nipping the lips that he'd dreamed about. Inhaling all of your sweetness that his mind didn't do justice to when he'd been away. Feeling your smile against his lips for the first time.

"Let me ask you again," you said, pausing between kisses. "Since I clearly helped you win the bet, what are you going to do for me?"

"Anything you want," he said immediately as you started to push him toward the door with a grin.

"How about we go for a long drive? And we can talk about how the next time you're deployed, your girlfriend will be waiting patiently for you to return?"

Bradley scooped you up, sending you into a fit of laughter as he carried you directly to his Bronco.

------------------------

Bradley was exhausted on Monday to the point where the travel mug of coffee you sent him with did nothing to keep him from yawning out on the tarmac at 8:00. But every yawn ended with him smiling as he thought about how perfect the weekend had been. In the very early hours of Sunday morning, you'd agreed to be his girlfriend. And now he was waiting for the cherry on top of it all.

He didn't have to wait long as he stood between Reuben and Javy, the three of them looking nearly identical in their matching flight suits and boots, standing at attention in front of Maverick. Then Jake came strolling out, and Bradley instantly started laughing.

Maverick turned, took one look at Hangman in his boxer shorts and combat boots and said, "I don't even want to know what's going on here, I just want five hundred push ups."

Jake's eyes looked like they were going to bug out of his face as everyone else tried their best to hold in their laughter. Bradley took his phone out as discreetly as he could and snapped a picture of Jake panicking on the tarmac before he dropped down onto the ground and started on his punishment.

"Everyone else to your jets," Mav barked, and Bradley didn't stick around to hear him say it again. Instead he texted you the photo of Jake along with a short message.

Couldn't have pulled it off without your help, Sweetheart.

------------------------

The way I would die of this man just casually started calling me his Sweetheart. I love that he swept the guys to win the bet! Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

@hotch-meeeeeuppppp

@chassy21

@solacestyles

@daisyhollyxox

@wintercap89

@blog-name6996

@bcon24

@chaoticassidy

@avada-kedavra-bitch-187

@katiebby04

@marantha

@averyhotchner

@abaker74

@heli991113

@k-k0129

@noz4a2

@tallyovie

@shanimallina87

@little-wiseone

@ccbb2222

@lilyevanswhore

@xoxabs88xox

@thedroneranger

@cherrycola27

@fanboyswhore9

@xomrsalliej4787xo

@desert-fern

@sylviebell

@wkndwlff

@horseslovers2016

@gennyanydots

@mattyskies

@hookslove1592

@blahehblah

@sadpetalsstuff

@local-spidey

@schoollover

@lex-winchester

@magicalmorg

@nicole01-23

@jessicab1991

@happyrebelruins

@samsgoddess

@ughthisisntright

@bellaireland1981

@sagittarius-flowerchild

1K notes · View notes

vixensbrainrotts · 4 months

Text

TR men reacting to little kids wooing you

Content: reactions

Tropes: established relationship

Warnings: none (lmk if im wrong)

Summary: A little boy, perhaps four or five of age comes waddling over to you two whilst you're out on a date together and offers you a flower, confessing his spontaneous love for you. How does your man react to that?

Vixen’s two cents: hi! This has been sitting in my drafts forever so i need to get it out cause it’s collecting cobwebs. It’s sort of a random idea but whatever, i found it entertaining. Also im editing this in the car and its giving me a stroke why is the road so fucking uneven? If you have any ideas for me to write please please please my requests ans messages are open! Yeah, let me know if there are any other characters that fit those types and enjoy!

(Takemichi, Chifuyu, Souya, Hakkai, Shinichiro, Sanzu (I don’t care what anyone says. Shy Sanzu is forever on my agenda), Inui)

Nearly deceased type, it took him so long to get you. How HOW is this little ass kid wooing you better than he could ever dream of? What the actual fuck was happening? He couldn’t believe his eyes when that actual toddler came up to you with a flower, the stem freshly plucked, and a glimmer in the kid‘s hopeful eyes. The boy had almost serenaded you the way he sang praises to you: „excuse me miss, you’re really pretty! Would you accept my flower please?“. And what was even more unbelievable, was when you giggled and accepted the flower giddily. Then the little boy crossed the line: „can I have a kiss in return Miss?“. And you did. You pecked the cheek of the boy meek two minutes after meeting him! Unbelievable! It took him 3 dates to even hold your hand. Outrizzed by a five year old.

(Nahoya, Mikey, Baji)

Ready to fight the kid. He's deadass about it too, rolling up his sleeves and cracking his knuckels and snapping the kinks in his neck, looking menacingly at that poor little boy. He doesn't care that this may be the kid's first crush, he'll crush him in return. You were his damnit and he was gonna prove it to anyone who tried him. Kids included. When you pull at his arm though, prompting him to calm down, he stops a little. What do you mean you dont want him to establish his dominance? He's genuinely stumped and just kinda stares at you for a second, watching you intensely as you lean down to the boy, whispering something in his little ear and taking the flower from him. The boy giggles at you, his former horror dissipated, instead replaced with a furious blush that spread all the way down his neck and up his ears. He blew you a kiss before skipping away, giddily going back to whatever he was doing beforehand. Your boyfriend turns you around by the shoulders immediately and gives you a harmless glare. “What the fuck was that about?” But he doesn’t get a response, as you just wrap your arms around him and laugh. “You’re so cute when you’re jealous!” Well… that wasnt the answer he was looking for but he’ll take it.

(Ran, Shion, Draken, Benkei, Wakasa)

Sitting back and watching the show. He finds the little kids advances hilarious and will gladly watch the little shrimp try to win you over whilst you’re trying your hardest not to burst out laughing. “So sweets, how old are you anyway?” The boy asks you with a smirk on his face. “Too old for you.” You answer incredulously, just about ready to cry from laughter. “No no no baby, no one has to know! It can just be between the two of us and that’s fineeee!” He draws out the syllables and leans one elbow on table you and your boyfriend are sitting at. Your boyfriend all the while has probably pulled out a phone, discreetly filming the whole thing whilst leaning back and hiding his tears. You shoot both boys an amused look and then answer the awaiting kid. “Come back to me in a few years and maybe we can arrange something, yeah?” The little kids eyes widen as he looks at you with a determined smile. “Yes! You won’t regret it! And I’ll beat up your wannabe boyfie over here once I’m strong enough too!” He exclaims and runs off leaving you howling in laughter and your boyfriend, who is suddenly enraged by a child, fumes silently, sending daggers across the room. “Relax baby.” You reach a hand over the table to hold his, wiping the tears from your eyes. “Don’t touch me.” He hisses and puts the phone down, crossing his arms in fake offense.

(Hanma, Kokonoi, Izana, Rindou)

The false hope typa guy. In this case, the boy made the mistake of coming up to HIM and innocently asking for your name. “Why, you like what you see?” Your boyfriend uses language much too mature for the little kid, but he gets a timid response of “yeah, she’s real pretty..” nevertheless. Your boyfriend chuckles and pats him on the shoulder. “I say go for it, I’m sure you’ve got a chance with her!” The little boy has wide eyes and an open mouth “Really? You sure she doesn’t have some super big ‘n scary boyfriend?” He has to suppress laughter when he answers. “I’m sure she doesn’t, go talk to her, ask her for her name and tell her that I said hi too.” And with that, he’s sent the kid on his way. Your boyfriend watches him shyly go up to you and pat your leg slightly to get your attention. He watches you smile down at the little boy and talk to him, your eyes widening and laughing when you exchange a few words with the kid. When he sees fit, he comes stalking over to the two of you and wraps his arm around your waist and smirks at the kid. “Hey there.” You greet your boyfriend and turn to look at him. “Have you met—“ he guesses that you’re about to introduce him to the little boy but he doesn’t care to listen, and leans down to shush your lips with a long, over-the-top kiss, even going as far as to cracking one eye open to look at the little boys horrified face before finally pulling away. You’re a little dazed and very confused when you look down and find your little admirer gone. You throw your boyfriend an accusing look but he only raises his hands in surrender, claiming innocent with a smug smile on his face.

2K notes · View notes

loaksky · 1 year

Text

— 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘣𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘶𝘴

the deets — in which you, a quiet healer in the tribe, have the biggest crush on the upcoming leader. sometimes you think the feelings could be mutual. until one night in the glowing forest shatters that.

the who — neteyam x fem omatikaya!reader

the word count — like 7.6k (jesus h. christ)

the tags — idiots-to-lovers (it's teyam, he's the dummy), childhood friends-to-lovers, one-sided pining (reader is a softie).

the warnings — language, a lil kithy kithy, neteyam's emotionally constipated, but he redeems himself! reader's kind of a pushover, but it comes full circle!

the notes — first post for avatar & i'm really excited but a lil nervous bc like ??? i haven't written fanfic in SO long. i imagine neteyam & reader to be a few years older in this fic (eighteen or nineteen), but at the same time the circumstances could fit their current age as well. finally, this is written in a heinous blend of second / third. don't know how to explain, but i think it flows okay? if you like it please leave a request or let's have a chat! (also barely proofread oops).

YOU AND NETEYAM HAVE ALWAYS BEEN IN DISTANT ORBIT. Many would argue the two of you are cut from the same cloth; quiet, noble, mature, but you couldn't feel even more disconnected from the tribe's golden boy even if a chasm would crack the earth between you.

It's why you think it's silly that you'd develop such a yearning, your heart thudding like a war drum every time his amber eyes flit to yours. There's never any weight to his gaze, just fleeting glances among frequent observation, but you can't help but stare.

It doesn't help that his youngest siblings cling to you like a second and third skin, chattering excitedly about whatever piques their immediate interest. You just listen and hum your acknowledgements, a comfort to the two as you move through your studies.

Oftentimes he's sent to fetch his siblings, clearing his throat outside of the tent's flaps to announce himself, then wiggling a few fingers through the opening before peering in.

He's always in a hurry, never biting when you offer him opportunities to linger. You understand, how busy it can be when the whole clan begins to rely on you. So you bask in the short-lived moments in his space, skin scented with salt and the tang of the foliage.

But there are moments when you truly think he sees you. When you cross paths during clan meals, and the smallest of smiles twitches in his lips when you cut fruit and he's the first you offer to. When it's time to train to shoot your bows and he adjusts your form with a brief brush of his fingers on your elbow. When all of the older healers are unavailable and he shyly peeks his head into your tent for a quick patch up.

Nevermind the small tells stored in your short-term, but the little slivers of time when you were both growing into yourselves. When you were seven and he'd carried you to the elders when you hurt yourself. When some of the older kids in the clan would pick on you for keeping to yourself and he'd tell them that it was unbecoming and cowardly to pick on someone weaker than them. When he picked a flower during a group excursion into the deep depths of the forest and stuck the glowing stem in your satchel.

You had fallen so hard for Neteyam and your only hope is that he'd be at the end of the fall to catch you.

“You're not listening, ________!” Tuk whines and you look up from the scrolls you unfurled from the basket moments before she walked in.

“Sorry,” you murmur. “I have a lot on my mind.”

There's a small giggle from somewhere else in the tent and you peer from Tuk to Kiri who beads an anklet on her own.

“Yeah, like big brother,” Tuk teases, turning her attention back to her own beadwork.

Kiri's face splits into a grin.

“You've been lost in thought a lot more recently,” she observes. “Could Tuk be correct?”

You don't bother to deny it, the obvious flush in your cheeks a dead giveaway. Kiri's always been perceptive and the more you fight her on it, the longer she'll draw it out.

“I think it's worth a shot,” Kiri says. “Neteyam’s always had a soft spot for you.”

It's a million degrees hotter in the tent.

“You don't have to do that,” you say quietly, slouching in your seat.

“Do what?” Kiri challenges.

“Pretend I have a chance.”

Kiri makes a face.

“You do!” she argues. “Neteyam's just shy.”

You're silent for a moment, fingers twitching over a tear in the scroll. You want to believe her, tell her that you think it could be worth a shot, too. But you scent him before you hear him, and then you hear him before you see him.

Four blue fingers wiggle in the tent's opening before Neteyam is poking his head inside.

“Tuk? Kiri?” his voice rumbles. “Ready?”

Kiri glances at you as she stands to her feet and begins gathering her things. Her eyebrows do a little dance, eyes widening as she tilts her head discreetly to her brother.

“I'll see you,” you say quietly, patting Tuk on the back of her leg as she drops her finished anklet in your lap and giggles at you.

You follow their movements as they exit the tent through where Neteyam holds the flap open for them patiently.

He simply lifts a hand as a silent greeting and you wait until they're out of sight and earshot to expel the breath you'd been holding and slump down on your pillow.

In hindsight, you should have been more careful. Neteyam was a skillful hunter, the tribe's best warrior after his father. It's only normal that he'd be in the dense forest when you were plucking flowers and herbs for your salves, speaking quietly to Eywa about your concerns.

“Please, Great Mother,” you whisper, the woodsprites caressing the skin of your arms. "Please give me a sign, any form of motivation to be brave about my feelings."

The grass below your toes lights up and tickles the pads of your fingers as you pluck the glowing flowers.

There's a trail of them, purple and pink, and you pluck and pluck and pluck until you're led to the mouth of a clearing.

Something salty and tangy circles your figure and like usual, you scent him before you see him. When your gaze latches onto his lithe figure, you grin a little, lips parting to announce yourself. This must be your sign, of how vast and great the forests are surrounding your looming home tree, it must be fate that you stumble upon him at this hour.

But his name dies on your tongue when he shifts and you see the silhouette of another pressed to his side.

It's another Omaticaya girl, pretty and tall. You'd know her anywhere, the waves of her thick hair, the tinkle of her dainty laugh. But she is fierce all the same, far from perfect, but gritty enough that it doesn't matter.

Te'feyra draws a bow and one of Neteyam's hands come up to adjust her front grasp, fingers closing over hers and the arrow.

“Steady hands to make up for the recoil,” he says softly and your heart is in your throat.

He's engulfing her as she takes her aim and sends the arrow flying through the air.

Somewhere unknown to you, the arrow sticks its landing and Te'feyra jumps excitedly, pressing her lips to Neteyam's briefly.

You back away from the clearing, eyes burning as you fist the flowers so hard they wilt in your hands. A twig snaps underneath your weight and from your distance, you see the glow of Neteyam and Te'feyra's eyes through the brush.

You take off running without a single word, and despite your stomach tearing itself to ribbons, you thank Eywa for the clarity.

“Something's wrong,” Kiri says to you days later.

Instead of the tent, you two are sitting on opposing branches of a thick tree, observing the flora and fauna of your corner of the forest. You decide that you need some time away from the bustle of the clan's circle and venture off into the opposite side of the woods.

“Why do you say?” you wonder, scribbling onto one of your scrolls.

“You're naturally quiet, I get that, but the past few days, I feel like I've been in the presence of the dead,” she sighs, staring down at you from the branch above. “And Ewya's given me the feeling that all may not be well with you.”

You lick your teeth, then roll your lips nervously.

“I told you Neteyam didn't like me,” you admit.

Kiri's eyebrows furrow.

“What are you talking about?”

“I saw him,” you sigh, fiddling with your pen. “In the forest with Te'feyra. She kissed him.”

Kiri curses under her breath.

“This is stupid,” she huffs. “He's just being stupid. Neteyam likes you and I'm going to prove it.”

You open your mouth to protest, but Kiri's already jumping down from the branches of the tree and dragging you with her through the darkening forest.

“Kiri, this isn't necessary,” you finally pipe up. “It's okay if the feeling isn't mutual, I never expected it to be.”

Kiri stops in her tracks and her pinched face softens, braids swinging by the set of her jaw.

“________, we all grew up together,” she says softly. “I know my brother, and I know you. You two belong together, I feel it.”

You swallow around nothing, allowing her to drag you through the forest and back into the clan's main circle.

“Hey, Kiri! ________, where are you two headed off to in such a rush?” one of the elders calls from where they're working on tools.

Kiri smiles politely.

“Very important business,” she replies quickly, fingers tightening around your wrist to pull you across the grass.

You stop in front of their family's hometree and Kiri guides you through vines and steep inclines before pausing in front of their family's tent.

Lo'ak's voice sounds from within, whiny and irritated.

“Bro, are you being serious right now?” he squeaks and Neteyam grunts, obviously bored.

“Frankly, Lo'ak this has nothing to do with you,” he says.

“Dude, yes it does,” Lo'ak argues. “You've inadvertently involved everyone in this affair because you won't get your head out of your ass for three seconds and just admit that you like her.”

“I don't like, ________,” he says simply and Kiri freezes in front of you.

You chew the inside of your cheek, fingers twitching in Kiri's loosened hold.

“Who are you trying to convince?” Lo'ak moans. “You're really going to commit to Te'feyra even though you have no interest in her?”

“Te'feyra is a great huntress,” Neteyam says simply. “She's well-loved, a strong leader. What's there not to like?”

“________ is all of those things,” Lo'ak says. “She's a talented healer, always patches you up when you get yourself in trouble. The clan loves her, Tuk and Kiri love her, Mom and Dad love her.”

“The clan barely knows that ________ exists,” Neteyam says and you wince.

Kiri makes a move to infiltrate the heated conversation, but you put a hand on her shoulder and shake your head.

“Dude, that's low,” Lo'ak scoffs in disbelief.

“________ is a sweet girl, but she's weak. She's hollow and does what she's told. I wouldn't want to spend my life bonded to someone so passive,” Neteyam says plainly and Lo'ak lets out an exasperated hiss.

“You're kidding right? ________ is amazing,” Lo'ak challenges. “She's quiet, but she's caring. She's resilient and intelligent and anyone would be lucky to be bonded to someone like her, your stupid ass included.”

“Maybe you should focus more on training for your rite rather than trying to play matchmaker,” Neteyam says, showing the first signs of annoyance.

“You just won't admit that for the first time you're scared,” Lo'ak finally says.

Everything seems to still and Lo'ak presses on.

“Everyone loves you, you're the clan's golden child and you can do no wrong. You like ________ so much, but you're afraid that you'll let her down,” Lo'ak says fiercely. “But you don't realize that being a pussy about your feelings is the ultimate let down!”

“You'd know a lot about being a let down, wouldn't you,” Neteyam grumbles.

There's a split second of silence before Neteyam lets out a loud grunt of pain. The flap to their tent flies open and Lo'ak freezes before you and Kiri.

His eyes meet yours and his gaze softens before stalking past.

Neteyam stands stunned in the middle of the tent, lip bruised and bleeding. His gaze swings to the arch way, face falling when he finds you standing behind his younger sister.

“Wanna go swimming?” Tuk asks you the next evening, after dinner.

You smile down at her weakly, heart melting when she pets your hand. You can't deny her, nodding gently as you stand from where you're sitting on the outer circle of the scattered clan.

“Carry me?” she asks sweetly.

You heave her up with a grunt and she grins at you, playing with one of the braids in your hair. Her small fingers caress the skin of your cheek and you blink when she ghosts over your eyelid.

“Pretty,” she whispers, head nestling on your shoulder.

“I think you're prettier,” you tell her, readjusting her growing form as you walk through the brush, towards the rush of the waterfall.

You don't realize that there's a set of eyes on you, watching as you disappear through the trees with Tuk.

The cliff that houses the waterfall towers above you two in a semicircle, the water rippling gently as Tuk squirms from your grasp and splashes through the shallow pool.

“Stay close, Tuk,” you coo, toes wiggling through the pebbles washed up on the tiny shore.

“I've been practicing!” Tuk tells you. “Wanna see how long I can hold my breath under water?”

“Stay in shallow waters,” you advise her, wading into the pool until you're waist deep.

Tuk dramatically inhales and then sinks down under the surface. Something cracks in the distance and you glance around, met with the stillness of the forest and the chirp of bugs.

When you turn your attention back to Tuk, you smile fondly as you wait for her to emerge, counting the seconds diligently to report to her chubby cheeks.

Fifteen pass, then thirty. Your smile begins to fade as your arms feel around in the water around you.

“Tuk?” you call out, chest tightening when you're met with the subtle rush of the glittering cascade from the waterfall up above.

You push forward in the water until your chin touches the surface.

“Tuktirey!” you shout, thrashing around the pool, searching for her tiny frame through the illumination. “Tuk!”

Your toes lose purchase as the water deepens and you begin to panic without the youngest Sully in sight. You turn when you hear a splash, Tuk giggling on the shore.

Your stomach churns hard and Tuk's face falls when she sees your panicked expression.

“Tuk, I-I can't swim well!” you cry out, legs flailing as you splash through the water. You try to dig your toes in the earth below, but you're just shy of the mark.

Tuk looks scared on the shore, fidgeting as she looks around desperately.

“You're too deep, ________!” Tuk whines, voice laced with tears.

Your legs ache, head lolling under the water for a moment before you emerge with a splutter.

“Get– Go get help!” you instruct her, feeling your calves begin to burn as you try to keep yourself afloat. You don't know how long you'll be able to tread water. “I'll be okay, little one. Hurry!”

Tuk turns, picking up her satchel as she makes way for the path you took. When she's out of sight, you fall slack, chest heaving as you try to use your skinny arms to paddle at the water.

Meanwhile, Tuktirey runs through the forest, tears spilling down her rounded cheeks as she trips over sprawling roots and nudges low-hanging vines from the pathway.

She skids to a stop when Neteyam, who had finally worked up the nerve to excuse himself from dinner, comes into view.

He turns when he hears her wailing, face scrunching when he registers his youngest sibling's anguish.

“Tuk, wha—”

She grabs at his hands, tugging him towards the path to the waterfall.

“________ needs help!” she cries. “She can't swim!”

Neteyam's ears prick at the mention of your name, scooping up his youngest sibling in his arms before breaking into a sprint through the brush of the brightening forest. The woodsprites begin to emerge and he barrels into the clearing of the waterfall breathlessly.

It's still, like it's been untouched and his heart hammers nervously in his chest, eyes searching the pool for any sign of you.

He's setting Tuk down quickly before splash desperately into the water.

“_______!” he calls.

He ducks underneath the surface, eyes open wide as he searches for you. And there you are, body slack as you sink slowly to the bottom of the rocky pool.

He dives forward, lungs burning as he cuts through the waters with lean arms. His fingers circle one of your wrists, the other hand winding around your waist as he propels you two up above the water. He chokes on a breath, hand coming up to touch your face.

Your head lolls to the side, eyes shut as Neteyam holds you close.

“Neteyam!” Te'feyra calls from the shore, having followed him after being rebuffed during dinner.

Kiri and Lo'ak are close behind, eyes wide when they see their eldest brother wading quickly through the waters with your unconscious form in his arms.

“Neteyam,” Te'feyra repeats, hand coming to grasp his bicep.

“Not now,” he grunts, tugging his arm from her grasp to march through the brush of the forest.

Woodsprites surround you two as he takes you back to the village, a silent plea to the Great Mother not to take you away weighing heavy on his lips.

You awake to a shining sun and a wet towel on your head. You squint against the beaming light and sit up abruptly as the prior night dawns you like a swift strike to the gut.

“Whoa, wait, slow down,” a thick voice rumbles.

You scent him before you see him.

Neteyam's hands are on you, guiding you back to rest on the pile of pillows that had propped you up before.

You shoot up again anyways.

“Where's Tuk?” you ask anxiously.

“Tuk's fine,” Neteyam says. “She's eating breakfast with Kiri and Mom.”

You lean back in relief, eyes squeezing shut as you wheeze out a sigh.

His hands are on you again, gentle, warm as he takes the towel from your forehead and wipes your face to refresh you.

“Are you okay?” he asks quietly, hesitantly.

You pause a moment, but then nod.

“Yeah,” you affirm hoarsely. “M'fine.”

Neteyam just stares at you, yellow eyes unblinking and you know this isn't like one of those fleeting moments. He sees you and it makes your gut churn hard.

“I'll be okay here,” you say quietly. “You may have...someone, you know, waiting for you.”

Te'feyra's name is a silent implication and Neteyam doesn't look amused.

“I told them I would look after you until you're fully well,” he counters, wringing the towel into a bowl that sits next to the mound of blankets your rest on.

You fiddle with your fingers, fully disheartened because even in times like these, he remains the diligent leader-in-training that he is.

The air in the tent is think and you can't breathe.

“I'd like some air,” you whisper, crawling from the soft mat to climb to your feet shakily.

“You need to rest,” Neteyam says crossly, seemingly annoyed at your persistence to put as much distance as you can between the two of you.

You don't respond and finally he seems to burst.

“You can't swim and yet you still went after Tuk,” he calls after you like an accusation. “Why?”

You pause.

“Tuk is like a sister to me,” you say quietly. “I would never let anything happen to her.”

You make a move to exit the tent, but Neteyam's voice stops you in your tracks.

“You could have died,” he says quietly, and you can't place the emotion in his voice.

“I'd do it again,” you admit, craning your neck to face him. “I'm not that weak.”

Neteyam's face falls and you duck from the tent.

Neteyam becomes restless after that moment. He loses his focus, agility taking a hit as he hunts one on one with his father.

He goes to shoot another arrow, but Jake stops him with a gentle hand on his shoulder.

“Neteyam, I know I can be hard on you,” he starts. “But I’m always here.”

“Yes sir,” Neteyam nods.

“Something’s bothering you,” Jake observes. “You’re not yourself. You’re losing focus.”

Neteyam swallows.

“Sorry, sir,” he says, head hanging.

His braids form a curtain around his face and Jake gives his shoulder a squeeze.

“Son?”

Neteyam swallows again, head tilting up to look is dad in the face.

“I don’t want to be with Te’feyra,” he admits quietly.

Jake's lips twitch.

“Well I could have told you that,” Jake scoffs, the corner of his lips twitching into a soft smile. “You look about as dead as a washed up fish when she’s around.”

Neteyam recalls the kiss she’d given him nights ago and how he'd internally recoiled, body stiff under her touch.

“I’m sorry,” he repeats.

“Why are you sorry?” Jake prods.

“Because I know Te’feyra is who the clan wants me to be with, who is my most suitable match,” he says. “I just— I don't want to let you down.”

Jake gives him an impish grin.

“Neteyam, let me give you a word of advice. There are things in this world that are suited well for each other; you and Te'feyra are one of those things. But your heart and your mind are the two most powerful things about you,” he says. “You will not be punished for giving into your heart.”

Neteyam thinks of you. He thinks of your face, the lines of your timid smile, the idents that dimple your cheeks. He thinks of your touch when he's wounded, gentle and expert, warm against his skin. He thinks of your voice, airy, soft, a low rasp.

He thinks of when he'd called you weak. Of your face, wounded and hurt. He's stricken in this moment as he realizes that strength doesn't have to be audacious. It can be quiet, small acts that become mighty.

Tuk had told him about the waterfall, how she'd wanted to pull your leg a little. You'd accepted your fate if Ewya deemed it time, you'd even sent the youngest away in the chance you wouldn't surface.

You were far from weak. Your strength ran nearly as deep as the roots of Ewya herself, yet you'd taken the criticism in stride. Let Neteyam paint you as a coward, a pushover with no spine.

“I think there’s someone you need to clear the air with,” Jake says after a few moments of silence. “She should be in her tent.”

Neteyam's hands are clammy. It's been nearly a week since he'd last seen you. You'd reserved to spending time inside of your tent to brush up on your studies and refine your work. He'd catch glimpses of you, but you were used to blending in the background and Neteyam's used to overlooking you.

Was he being presumptuous? Maybe you only admired him as a warrior. Or perhaps it was a duty to the clan to revere him. He feels sick to his stomach thinking of confronting you. But Lo'ak wouldn't try to convince him of his own feelings if it wasn't mutual, would he?

And when had the feelings become mutual? He's recently began to think that perhaps he'd always liked you because you were the only one who didn't actively vie for his affection. Who only saw him as Neteyam, an equal, not Neteyam, the Olo’eyktan's son.

Maybe it was whenever he'd see you wandering in the forest during his hunting trips, murmuring to yourself as you picked herbs and flowers for you studies. Or maybe when he'd spot you still high on the branches of the lofty trees with a tablet of paper and ink. Maybe it was when you'd smile at him shyly when he'd adjust your form during archery and it'd melt his insides. Or when you two were little and he'd plucked flowers for everyone and you were the only one who'd smiled at it sticking out of your satchel.

If he recalls correctly, it's pressed to a scroll hanging in your tent and that alone makes his heart race.

Maybe you two are inevitable and he'd only prolonged it because of his own fears.

“Neteyam!”

Te’feyra steps in his line of sight, standing before him and the hometree that houses your tent. He glances away when she stops in front of him.

“Te’feyra,” he greets cordially.

“I haven't seen you since the incident with ________,” she says. “Are you alright?”

Neteyam nods.

“Never better,” he says simply.

“After dinner we should–”

He spots you, satchel thrown over your shoulder. You glance his way momentarily, but scurry in the direction of your tent when you lock eyes with him.

“If you will excuse me, please,” he says politely, extricating himself from Te’feyra to follow after you.

He catches up to you right outside of your tent.

“________!” he calls.

You freeze almost imperceptibly, but continue on your way, climbing the flattened incline spiraling around the center of the hometree.

“________,” he murmurs, fist closing around your skinny bicep.

You jolt to a stop, golden eyes razor sharp as you glance down at him. Your fist is wrapped tight around the strap of the satchel, knuckles stretched taut.

“Neteyam,” you reply softly. “Yes?”

He opens his mouth to say something, but finds that his tongue weighs heavy behind his lips.

“If you seek help, there are elders available for healing,” you inform him, making a move to remove your arm from his grasp.

He instinctively tightens his grasp and you shift uncomfortably.

“Sorry, sorry,” he says quietly, pulling away. “I just want to speak with you.”

A few beats pass as you blink at him.

“Well?”

“Oh,” he swallows. “Can I come in?”

You turn to face the flap of your tent before craning your long neck over your shoulder to nod.

“Sure,” you agree, holding the hide open to let him in.

You step in after him, table scattered with mixtures of finely-pounded dust, scrolls of research and bundles of materials.

You set your satchel down and begin unloading your finds from you excursion.

Meanwhile, Neteyam paces nervously, trailing the circumference of your tent, eyes flitting every which way to take in every piece of you.

A thick silence envelops you and you clear your throat when the satchel is empty.

“You wanted to talk?” you ask, watching as he stops in front of a scrolled tacked to one of the beams.

It's the pressed flower he'd given to you all that time ago as children. It's central in the room, catching the sun so beautifully and Neteyam uses this as the last bit of courage he needs to continue.

“You kept it,” he says, voice shaky.

“Of course,” you say simply, picking through your different finds. “You gave it to me.”

Neteyam turns, looks you head on and he feels his resolve crumbling.

“You like me,” he says bluntly, afraid that if he beats around the bush, he'll cop out.

“Everyone does,” you deflect.

Neteyam's jaw locks.

“No, ________, you like me,” he repeats.

You feel small, sorting the petals by color, fingers nimble against the soft grain of the wooden tabletop.

“Presumptuous,” you hum, unable to meet his piercing gaze.

“________,” he presses.

You bite your lip, tears clouding your vision as your fingers begin to trembling through the sorting. He's being so unfair and he doesn't even know it.

“Why?” you ask shakily.

“What do you mean why?” Neteyam counters, voice taking on the same edge he did with his brother days prior and he'd interrogated him about you.

“Why are you doing this?” you croak, and he hears the tears in your voice.

He's across the floor before you can blink.

“Are you crying?” he asks, shocked.

“Why do you want me to say it so badly?” you choke, poor petals strangled in your vibrating fist. “Is it not enough? To know that I yearn for you silently? That everyone pities me because my heart belongs to someone who's already spoken for?”

Neteyam is stunned.

“I like you, Neteyam. I always have,” you say, voice raw with emotion. “It's my biggest defeat to say I always will. Is that what you want to hear?”

Your eyes are tinged red and his throat feels stuffed with cotton.

“I've always admired you,” you say quietly, between hiccuping breaths. “But I didn’t know you could be so cruel.”

Neteyam winces, every word he’d practiced earlier, completely obliterated from his short term. He knows he should just tell you, tell you that his heart yearns for yours, too. That he'd been too blinded by his impending duty to feel the full effects of what a first love could be like.

“You should go,” you say when he's silent.

You brush your tears away and pat your cheeks dry with the back of your hands as you carefully set the wilted flowers the the edge of the table.

“I–”

“Neteyam, spare me, please.”

“I don’t want to,” he finally says.

Your eyebrows furrow, eyes swollen as you gaze at him unjaded. Who he believed to be so stoic and passive now baring every possible inch to him.

“You're–”

“I don't want to be with Te'feyra,” he finally spits, fists clenched. “I won't be with her.”

Your gaze softens, lips parting to ask what's gotten into him, but he cuts you off.

“You,” he answers firmly, before the question clings in the air. “It’s you. I want to be with you.”

"Stop," you whisper, shaking your head furiously. You take a step away from where he's quickly closing in on you. “Don't–”

He pauses mid-stride and the expression on his handsome face is absolutely devastating. His chest rises and falls shakily and you take a moment to meet his eyes.

“I’m sorry I didn’t notice it before,” he says desperately, “I was scared and didn't fully realize it, but I do now.”

“That’s unfair,” you hiccup. “This isn't just on your terms. You can’t— you can’t just tell me you like me and expect me to be with you.”

These passing moments are the most he’s ever heard you speak, and he’s afraid that he's severely underestimated you. It doesn’t taste so sweet now that he’s faced with the reality of things.

“You will be the future leader of this clan,” you continue. “That is a great responsibility that you've prepared for your entire life. Who you decide to be with is a permanent fixture that cannot be undone.”

“I know, I know,” he assures you.

“You find it in your heart pity me, Neteyam,” you breathe quietly. “But do you really want to be bonded to someone passive and weak?”

He opens his mouth to argue, but you've squared your shoulders, stomach caving and expanding with a deep breath. You turn to your prior task.

“You should go,” you repeat. “Duty calls.”

“What do you mean you need help?” Kiri asks incredulously, eyes widened at her older brother.

“________,” Neteyam says. “She's icing me out.”

Kiri's face melts in relief and she scoffs a laugh.

“Do you blame her?”

“Kiri!” he pleads.

Kiri stops her movements, falling back on her haunches to meet Neteyam's desperate gaze. It's so unlike him, being uncertain, nervous. He's picked up the habit of fiddling his fingers and Kiri snorts to herself.

“Actions,” she says simply.

“Huh?” he vocalizes.

“Words mean nothing to ________ if your actions don't support them,” she says. “This entire time you've acted so lukewarm towards her. Of course she won't believe you when you decide to acknowledge that you love her.”

Neteyam's throat bobs as he stares down at his sister.

“And how will I do that?” he presses.

Kiri shrugs.

“Not so mighty warrior now, are we?”

As the days progress, you begin to grasp at finally coming to terms with the tattered remains of what's left of you and Neteyam's frayed relationship. Your heart hasn't stonewalled him completely, but the yearning for him has dulled to a slight ache.

His eyes are piercing every moment you share the same vicinity. Kiri would even try to argue you that it's longing, but Neteyam's a slave to his honor and you aren't convinced.

“You should pity the poor boy,” an elder tells you as you cut up ingredients for the evening's dinner.

You pause, fingers tightening around the handle of the knife. You roll your lips together before briefly meeting her gaze, warm under firelight.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you deflect, clearing your throat.

She laughs, peeling a purple fruit.

“Neteyam,” she says forwardly. “Hasn’t taken his eyes off you in who knows how long. Will you continue to let him suffer?”

You want to argue that it's you who's suffering. That the heart that beats inside the hollow of your ribcage feels like it'll tear in two every time you recall the venom in Neteyam's voice when he'd called you weak.

“I doubt his suffering has anything to do with me,” you say instead. “We are only acquaintances.”

The elder laughs again.

“Is that why he's been pestering the elders for input on how to sway your heart?”

Your head shoots up from where you've focused on the fine cuts of vegetables.

“What?”

“He’s been slacking on his duties, instead poking around the elders and villagers trying to pry information about you,” she says. “Heard him muttering about what kind of flowers you like.”

“It will take more than flowers to sway my heart,” you mumble.

“So you admit that there's something there, hmm?”

Your cheeks heat, caught like a fish in warm waters.

“I–”

“I'd argue that Neteyam’s liked you longer than you've liked him,” the elder says simply.

You bite.

“Why do you say that?”

“He's always asked Eywa for courage, and it seems like she gave you as an answer.”

The elder climbs to her feet, leaving you near the open flame. You open your mouth to call out to her, but the scent of salt and leaves envelops you before you can say anything.

You crane your neck and find Neteyam a few paces from you.

“Do you have a few moments?” he asks politely.

You want to say no, tell him that you'd offered him an infinite amount of moments that he'd spent building bridges between the two of you, but if he's a slave to his honor, you're bound by heart.

“Okay,” you say hesitantly, abandoning your task.

He holds his hand out for you to take and your fingers slide across his warm palm as he pulls you to your feet. Once he secures your hold in his, he tugs you along.

You don't know where he's taking you, or what he could possibly want with your time, but you feel a thousand times more nervous than ever now that the tangled web of your feelings drapes the both of you.

After a few moments of rugged silence, climbing through bushes and brush, he punctures the quiet.

“Are you well?” he asks.

“Yes,” you answer after a moment. “You?”

“Truthfully?” he responds, pausing to face you. You realize his hand still engulfs yours. “No.”

“No?” you parrot shakily.

“No,” he affirms. “I've been hurting actually.”

Your eyebrows furrow.

“You should seek help if you have an ongoing–”

“Here,” he says, the hand still caught in his being guided to lay flat against his chest. You can feel his heart hammering behind his ribcage. “It hurts here.”

You swallow, pulling away from his grasp when you realize his insinuation.

“Don’t,” you warn.

He breathes a shaky sigh before taking a step towards you. He's corded muscle and warmth as his palm comes to cradle your jaw. Your bottom lip twitches as you stare up at him.

“It’s always been you,” he says quietly, thumb brushing your chin as his eyes map every curve of your face. “I think I’ve always known it deep down, but...”

Your hand comes up to meet his, gently prying his touch away.

“Neteyam,” you sigh. “Had the last few days unfolded differently, I don't think you'd been saying this now.”

“Maybe not now,” he agrees. “But one day, I would. I know I would. Because when I recall every fond moment, you’re there. No matter how close to the background you get, you’re always there.”

You look skeptical, and Neteyam knows he's losing you. So he digs in the small knapsack he has slung over his broad shoulders and pulls out something thin.

When he holds it up with shaky fingers, your breath catches in your throat. Strung through the taut brown of tree vine is a line of beads identical to the one that he wears on a braid tucked behind his ear. Upon closer inspection, you notice the blue and purple beads formed to create your favorite flowers.

“Wha—”

“Until you decide you want to be mine,” he says, voice trembling nervously as he takes your arm and gently slides the band up until it fits snuggly around your bicep. “So that you remember I'm always yours.”

Your voice is caught in your throat as he brings your fingers up to his lips.

“I won’t push you,” he says when he realizes your words have evaded you. “But I’ll wait for you.”

“Neteyam–”

He simply smiles at you, golden eyes shy as he takes a step back to admire his handiwork. He seems satisfied, triumphant, when you eye the band but make no moves to remove it.

“I’ll wait for you,” he repeats, giving your fingers a squeeze before running off.

“He did what?” Lo’ak shrills a week later.

The younger three Sully's had hunted you down and brought you to the clearing dedicated to archery training.

Slender fingers wrap around your wrist and elbow to turn your arm to examine the band with wide eyes.

You can’t help but smile gently to yourself, watching the way the sun catches the reflection of the pearlescent beads and reflects them brightly.

“I knew that dummy was planning something,” Kiri grumbles. You bite your lip when she meets your gaze. “Well?”

“Well what?” you ask, arm still in Lo’ak’s grasp.

He twists playfully and your laugh glitters in the air.

"Are you going to put my knucklehead brother out of his misery or what?" Kiri hisses, arm drawing to shoot a arrow that stabs the target about a centimeter too left.

Tuk giggles as she runs up to the target to examine the damage.

“Yeah, please do, he's in love and it's disgusting,” Lo'ak grumbles, still eyeing the cuff.

Your heart skips at the mention of love, cheeks going warm when both Kiri and Lo'ak notice how you've gone quiet. They begin laughing, dealing you playful punches.

“Stop that,” you scold, swatting their hands away. “I haven’t given him an answer yet.”

“Oh, get real!” Kiri huffs. “You are so in love, you know you'll say yes.”

“Please put me out of my misery,” Lo'ak moans. “I'm tired of being his therapist because he's a little bitch.”

“Lo'ak,” you warn, eyes narrowing.

He giggles and Kiri stifles a laugh as you flounder, cheeks blooming under the siblings' teasing.

“You are both so awful,” you say petulantly, arms crossing one over the other. “How are you so sure I’ll return his feelings?”

It's Kiri's turn to groan, eyes rolling.

“Sure enough that I know if I let you in on a little secret, it'll light a fire under your ass,” she says seriously.

Your spine goes rigid, arms loosening as you wait with bated breath.

“Neteyam may choose you, but if you don’t choose him back quickly enough, someone could swoop in and claw that chance from you,” she shrugs.

Te'feyra's name is an ugly insinuation and something green coils its way into the pit of your stomach as you recall the chaste kiss she'd pressed to Neteyam's lips all those nights ago in the forest.

“Gears turning?” Lo'ak lilts.

They definitely are and suddenly you feel small, digging your big toe into the dirt to drag lines through the forest floor. You nod hesitantly, band suddenly tight around your bicep.

In your ruminating, Lo'ak and Kiri pass a knowing glance.

“Well?” Lo'ak prods.

You fidget, rattling with nerves.

“I suppose...”

Lo'ak sighs and his hands come down on your shoulders to steer you through the clearing.

“Where are we going?” you squeak.

“To put everyone out of their misery,” Lo'ak huffs.

The forest seems way more alive than usual, glowing so bright it almost overpowers the sun. Woodsprites gather around as Lo'ak nudges you through the thick foliage and you can't help but think about the sweet smile that curled on Neteyam's lips as he assured you that he was yours. All yours.

The fire crackles in the distance and you know that the morning meal is in the works when voices roar quietly meters away.

Neteyam sits near the center, surrounded by elders and the dreaded girl.

Te'feyra's obliterated every single centimeter of space available, nearly melded to his side as the elders talk animatedly over the two.

You want to turn back, uncertainty vice-like, but Lo'ak squeezes your shoulders as a silent plea. Not even a moment passes before Neteyam peels himself away and begins putting distance between them.

When Te'feyra gives him a curious glance, he gives her an uneasy smile.

“Be courageous, ________,” Lo'ak encourages. “You're one of the strongest people I know.”

With a final pat on the back, he pushes you towards the circle and the sudden movement catches everyone's gaze.

“________,” one of the elders calls fondly.

You smile and bow your head, fingers twitching at your sides.

“Hello,” you greet quietly, eyes swooping hesitantly to Neteyam who rises to his feet, already watching you intently.

That's when you notice it, the choker fastened around his throat. The vine is identical to yours, but it's strung with a line of beads that mirror the ones woven into a singular braid at the nape of your neck.

You hadn't realized that he'd noticed it all this time, but it's the ultimate confirmation that Neteyam sees you. And when he notices that you notice, he smiles softly.

The elders notice as well, drawing the link between your arm band and the necklace that Neteyam wears, now that you two stand opposite each other.

“May I borrow Neteyam for a moment?” you ask politely.

The same elder you prepared with the evening prior gleams a wide smile when Neteyam takes a step towards you, fingers brushing delicately with yours.

Te'feyra remains seated, lips twitching as her gaze flits between the two of you.

“By all means,” one of them says. “Take your time.”

You bow your head again, heart thudding when Neteyam's fingers twine with yours and he lets you drag him out of the circle and deeper into the forest.

When you deem that no prying eyes or ears surround you, you stop, Neteyam bumping softly into your back. The hair on the back of your neck bristle when he makes no moves to extricate himself from you, simply moving your braids from your face to reveal the string of beads tucked near the nape of your neck.

“You needed me?” he whispers, fingers still ghosting the skin of shoulder.

You swallow, squeezing your eyes shut as you relish the moment. Your fingers are still locked and for a fleeting second, you pretend that it's always been like this, the two of you.

“I am nothing extraordinary,” you start, and Neteyam's fingertips pause at your elbow.

“I'd argue differently,” he responds.

“I value time alone and I get overwhelmed often,” you continue.

“We all have our moments,” is his rebuttal as the hand covering yours squeezes gently.

You sigh.

“I could—”

Neteyam turns you and you're met with the the choker, beads glinting under the light. Your eyes drag up the column of his strong neck, flit past his soft lips and finally lock with his searing gaze.

“You can try all you want to run me off,” Neteyam laughs quietly, cupping your jaw. “But I'm not scared anymore.”

Your expression is skeptical and Neteyam decides to bite the bullet. He's closing in on you and your heart pounds violently in your chest.

“Neteyam,” you whisper weakly, hand coming up to his chest.

He traps your fingers against his heart, lips slotting between yours before you can protest some more.

It's like the forest comes alive around you, grass tickling between your toes as you melt under his touch and lean up into his mouth.

His hands are everywhere at once, branding your cerulean skin as he kisses you like it's your last moments. There's no hesitation, no feeling it out, just his warm breath and his soft lips as he pulls you impossibly closer.

“I'll take you as you are at any moment,” he says breathlessly between kisses. “You just have to say you want me back, ________. Please.”

You nod, nose brushing against his as one of his palms splay at the small of your back and the other grabs your chin, pulling you back to plant another burning kiss on your lips.

“Say it,” he begs.

Your eyes begin to mist as you nod again eagerly, parting for a moment to whisper the words.

“I'm yours,” you hoarse, hands on either side of his neck. “I'm yours if you'll be with me.”

Neteyam simply kisses you again, a satisfied hum rumbling from his built chest.

“Fucking finally,” a whisper sounds from the brush.

A LIL' BONUS

“You think they would have figured it out on their own?” Lo'ak asks, wolfing down his food.

Kiri shrugs, feeding Tuk a piece of fruit from her wooden plate.

“Maybe,” she says, unable to suppress her proud grin. “Maybe not. They're both stupid."

“I think so,” Te'feyra laughs watching you and Neteyam fondly from across the fire. “They were a long time coming.”

an – thank you SO much if you've made it this far! again, leave a request or let's chat hehehe. up next is lo'ak so stay tuned! :)

#neteyam x reader #avatar #avatar way of water #neteyam fic #neteyam #neteyam sully #avatar the way of water

8K notes · View notes

seattlesellie · 7 months

Note

i need nerdy loser ellie who wears those big bulky glasses so bad it’s not even funny

yeah cos …. yeah .

i have this vision — of slightly sub!top, service top of you will, loser!ellie eating you out whilst her big nerdy glasses stay glued to the bridge of her nose (until they aren’t)

her face is hot and flushed and heated, long, thick eyelashes fluttering up and down like extra-slow butterfly wings as her talented pink muscle flicks your swollen clit up and down. she takes her time with it, and she really is talented, but more than talented she really is oblivious to the way she’s making you feel, eyebrows scrunched in worry and in question — you can almost hear her shaky voice ask if she’s doing a good job.

which is why when you send your head back and it bangs on the bathroom stall with a loud and resounding thud, and a guttural moan escapes from your lips, ellie moans with you. you just answered her question, she is doing a good job. the best job.

and her low moan sends shivers down your spine, hell — shivers down your clit and your pulsing empty hole.

“s- s- s’good ellie-uh!” — you wail, grinding your cunt extra hard on ellie’s inviting tongue. she shakes her head left and right, and it’s that damn praise that makes her cross her legs together and chase that sweet, alas imperfect friction her jeans provide against her covered sopping pink cunt. ellie then grunts in agreement, buries her nose beneath the hood of your puffy clit. she moves rapidly, eagerly, bobbing her head up and down to earn herself another whine from your lips that might make her wet herself on the spot.

and to think her friends mocked and teased her for having a pathetic crush on the hot girl from class. mocked her for doodling your face in her journal, mocked her for staring at you too hard when you entered the class late with an iced coffee cup in your hand, and now — who’s fuckin’ pussy is she eating in a humid college bathroom stall?

she nearly reaches down her pants and searches her pockets in order to find her cracked phone and send them a pic. she doesn’t, however, because you just moaned out her name so beautifully her hands changed direction and crawled down to cup her cunt. she’s harsh, she grunts and huffs, eyes rolling back inside her skull when she realizes she can feel her slick through the thick fabric of her washed denim jeans.

her eyeballs nearly touch the clear lenses of her glasses but she doesn’t mind. not when your skirt is bunched up on your thighs and your fingers spread your pussy lips open like that.

and it really is all for her, so bravery washes upon ellie, and she slides an eager finger up your hole. it nearly burns, she pumps it slowly, you clench on her nevertheless and she smiles against your cunt. you can feel her harsh breaths, her sniffles, you don’t know if she’s like this because being on her knees is hard or because she’s trying to burn your intoxicating scent up her nostrils.

then she clarifies,

“wanna eat you o-out f-forever”

you bite down on your bottom lip and suck, you want to tell her that she will, but all that comes out is a pathetic hum of agreement.

she stops, blinks in awe and adjusts her glasses to sit correctly on the bridge of her nose. you shriek because she’s edging you and you’re not sure she even knows it. “n-never seen a pussy so, pretty, i’ve never—“ she stammers, “uh” and “um” ‘s as if she’s going on a rampage about a constellation of some sort.

it really takes all that is in you to not shove her face down your cunt again. she’s lucky her voice is so raspy and that it’s truly adorable how her glasses fog up in result of her harsh breathing.

you spread your lips wider but she doesn’t get the hint. she keeps going, keeps talking, so awfully close to your clit it’s burning hot now.

“it’s so swollen, so fuckin’ wet… s’tight”

you nod and sheepishly smile, ellie giggles like a damn schoolgirl beneath you. her knees are probably chafing and her fingers are probably pruning up for spending so much time up her hole but you really don’t care. neither does she.

so you circle your clit slowly and your head lulls back, ellie humps her bare hand.

“i could fuckin’ cum j-jus’ from watchi…”

you lift your finger, placing it inside your mouth and suck. your cheeks hollow in, giving ellie an exaggerated show. you hum at your taste, then you moan when the taste of her saliva runs down your throat. you take it out of your mouth with a plop.

then you bend down, ellie gulps hard.

“ellie?”

she hums, in trance.

“d’ya know what a strap on is?”

then her glasses slip down from her nose and hit the pavement with a click.

no fucking way.

#𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃 anon 🎀#hehe idk what this is hi #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams smut #ellie williams fanfiction

1K notes · View notes

arminsumi · 8 months

Note

requesting the first years witnessing gojo flirt with reader

˗ˏˋ꒰ 🍒 ꒱

𝐅𝐥𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠

A/N: i love this idea sm i hope u like how i wrote it 👀💗

Wc ≈ 800

Pairing: GOJO Satoru x reader

Summary: Yuji, Nobara and Megumi 'accidentally' overheard you and Gojo flirting in the classroom 👀

Warnings; kinda cheesy/goofy/overdramatic, poor megumi lmfao

Passing down the hall, Yuji heard a murmuring of yours and Gojo’s voices coming from inside a vacant classroom, so he strained his ears to listen.

“I swear, your sweet tooth is insatiable… Gojo, you really should quit sugar.”

“Aw, but how could I possibly give you up?”

Yuji’s face contorted into amusement and disbelief after hearing that little exchange.

“Yuji, what the hell are you doing – ”

He hissed for Nobara to be quiet and come eavesdrop with him. So she did, albeit a bit confused at first, but in a few minutes she and him were stifling their snickering and pressing their cheeks flat to the thin sliding door.

“What did Y/n just say?? MEGUMI! Get over here.” Nobara whisper-shouted and beckoned the ravenette who appeared around the corner.

“Why?”

“JUST COME OVER HERE.”

“For what?!”

Yuji and Nobara practically dragged him over and forced him to join in their eavesdropping. He gives them a confused look but there’s a spark of curiosity in his eyes when he hears the murmur of your voice.

“I’m not your sugar, so stop calling me that – ”

“ – how about I call you my sugarbaby?”

“Satoru!” your giggle came from the other side of the door.

“Ooh, you’re calling my first name now? That’s so indecent.”

“I’m not gonna be your sugarbaby – ”

“ – you don’t want me to be your sugardaddy?!” Gojo acted offended and raised his voice.

Yuji and Nobara were desperately trying to keep it together, but their snickering and giggling kept getting worse until they were besides themselves with laughter – out of breath, seal-sounds and all. Megumi looked absolutely appalled and borderline distraught (he had a boyish crush on you).

“Stop eavesdropping, you three.”

“OH SHIT.” Nobara finally cracked and broke down laughing loudly with Yuji.

Gojo slid the door open with a smack, and they began to scramble immediately. You just peered from behind the desk where you were signing documents.

“W – wheehaha – we heard nothing! I swear!” Yuji promised.

“Sheesh, I didn’t think anyone in this world would be attracted to the likes of Gojo. Y/n, you can do better.” Nobara muttered.

“I – the audacity, I’m standing right here. Nobara, expect a forehead flick later.”

The three of them tumbled out of the halls and discussed you and Gojo like a hot topic.

“D’you think they’re like… actually dating?!” Yuji asked incredulously, standing on the last step of the stairs.

“Probably.” Nobara shrugged.

“Ugh…”

“Cheer up, Megumi. It’s not the end of the world.” Yuji chuckled.

Megumi just pouted and sat on the stairs, spreading his legs out and looking up at the sky very melancholically. He was so dramatic that the other two just laughed.

“D’you think they actually went on a date last weekend?” Yuji pondered.

“Ohhh… yeah, that’s probably what that was all about.”

“Gross!” Megumi whined.

“Megumi I’ve never seen you so jealous before.”

“What the hell, I’m not jealous!” he denounced.

Gojo came out to meet those three at the base of the stairs at just the right moment.

“You always say that you’re gonna marry Y/n when you grow up.” Yuji said.

“NO I DON’T? YOU’RE TWISTING MY WORDS, YUJI.”

Gojo placed a big hand on his head and gave him the fright of his life. He groaned when he realized you two just heard everything. Yuji and Nobara lost it laughing again.

“Sorry to steal your future wife.” He joked.

“BRO WHAT THE HELL – YUJI’S JUST JOKING!” Megumi’s cheeks reddened.

You walked out next, just the sight of you threw Nobara and Yuji right back into a fit of laughter that they were just struggling to get out of.

“Megumi, what’s the matter?” you asked.

“Nothing, I’m good – YUJI SHUT UP!”

He tackled Yuji right as he opened his mouth to say something. “Nobara – don’t – you – dare.”

“Hey future wife.” Gojo greeted you cheekily. You rolled your eyes.

“Hey future ex-husband.” You responded.

Megumi looked so comically distraught, the other two were howling. Gojo just smirked and sunk his hands into his pockets.

“You two, why is Megumi distraught?” you asked them suspiciously.

“He has a crush on you.” Nobara said.

Megumi went fully red. He looked as if he was contemplating summoning Shikigami on Nobara. Before he even checked your reaction or paid attention to his other teacher’s stifled giggles, he went rigid and stiffly walked away.

“So future wife… about that date.” Gojo said rather loudly.

“I KNEW IT!” Yuji hollered. Him and Nobara went off again, Megumi let out the most dramatic groan you’ve ever heard.

1K notes · View notes

ataliagold · 3 days

Text

Knocking Me Out With Those American Thighs

For @astrangersummer prompt 'short shorts'

Pairing: Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson (pre-relationship)

Rating: Teen (swearing)

W/C - 848

Tags: Post Season 4 Volume 2, Eddie Munson Lives, Eddie Munson has a crush on Steve Harrington, flirting, Steve Harrington wears short shorts, summer, pool party, sun bathing, water balloons, Steve Harrington's thighs, Eddie Munson is suffering

Summary: Steve sunbathes in the tiniest shorts Hawkins has ever seen. Eddie tries and fails to keep his cool.

___

Eddie was suffering.

Not just from the heat of the midday sun baking him alive, or from the way his hair was practically glued to his sweat-slick neck.

No, the worst of his suffering was caused by Steve Harrington’s thighs.

They were going to kill him.

Eddie couldn’t help it, he really couldn’t, he just had to keep glancing over at where the other boy was lying in the grass, skin bare except for the tiniest pair of shorts Eddie had ever seen. They barely covered the top half of his thighs for fuck’s sake, what was even the point in them…

The guy’s naked chest and torso had already done a number on Eddie. But when Steve had laid down, stretched out to sunbathe in his backyard, those already-skimpy shorts had ridden up even higher, revealing a slightly paler strip of skin stretched tight over lean muscle and Eddie had had to sit on his damn hands to stop himself from reaching out and just touching…

A water balloon smacked into the side of Eddie’s face, momentarily dragging his attention away from Steve’s hairy thighs.

Luckily for Dustin, who was standing with his hands on his hips nearby and rolling his eyes at Eddie, the balloon hadn’t burst. If it had, Eddie might’ve strangled the kid himself.

“Hey, we said no water balloons near us!” Robin grumbled, sitting up to glare at the kid.

“I called your name three times,” Dustin complained to Eddie. “Not my fault you were too busy staring at Steve.”

Eddie’s eyes darted sideways, sensing movement from Steve. The boy cracked open an eye to give Eddie a brief glance, then closed it again, the tiniest smirk spreading across his face.

“I was not, you little shrimp,” Eddie snapped. “Now what do you want?”

“Come throw the rings into the pool for me? Lucas and Mike keep grabbing them before I can reach them, and I want to try and dive for them.”

Eddie snorted. “What are you, a fucking dolphin?”

“Language,” Steve mumbled lazily, not opening his eyes.

“Apologies, my liege, I’ll try to keep my language appropriate around your little charges.”

“Thank you.”

Eddie stood, wincing a little as he reached up to touch his rapidly reddening shoulders. Unlike Steve, he wasn’t gifted with a natural golden glow to his skin. He was pasty, usually sheet-white.

And now, he was steadily burning to a crisp.

Grumbling under his breath, Eddie stole one last look at the prone Steve, let his eyes run over his form for as long as he thought he could get away with. He could wax poetry about his thighs, about his torso, about the moles dotting his chest and stomach like constellations…

“Eddie?”

Fuck.

“Yeah, Steve?” His response came out as almost a squeak.

“You’re burnt. Once you’re finished entertaining Dustin, come back and get some sunblock on, I’ll help with your shoulders.”

Eddie swallowed thickly. Because that meant Steve would have his hands on him, all sun-warm as he spread sunblock across Eddie’s sensitive skin…

Steve opened his eyes then, rolling over to face Eddie and propping his head up on his hand with his elbow bent.

“And then after that, you can do my back.”

He fucking winked.

Eddie backpeddled, nodding quickly then turning around and doing his best to not trip over his feet as he scrambled after Dustin.

“Dude, you’re the least subtle person I’ve ever seen,” Dustin whispered to him as they walked towards the pool.

“Shut up.”

Eddie threw the rings half-heartedly into the pool, Dustin diving for them in a…not so impressive display of athleticism, but he would emerge eventually and toss the colourful rings back at Eddie, the other kids watching on.

As it tended to do, Eddie’s attention drifted back to Steve.

He was up now, chasing Robin around in the grass with the still-intact water balloon in hand. Robin was shrieking and trying to slap at him with her book, sunglasses flying from her hair. Steve hurled the water balloon, but it slapped against Robin’s back and plopped to the ground without breaking again.

Lightning quick, Robin picked it up and threw it hard back at Steve.

It smacked onto Steve’s chest and burst.

Eddie’s wide eyes drifted down.

Steve’s tiny shorts were now soaked, Robin doubled over with laughter as the water trickled down his torso and collected at the waistband.

Eddie’s gaze followed the path of water through Steve’s chest hair, down the soft planes of his stomach and small swell of his abdominal muscles, tracking past the healing scars on his sides…

When he looked up again, Steve’s eyes were on him.

Just as Eddie was trying to craft an excuse as to why he was openly ogling the guy again, Steve swiped the bottle of sunblock from the grass, holding it up with a little wiggle to Eddie, a slow grin spreading across his face.

Eddie dropped Dustin’s rings into the water without looking, ignoring the kid’s protests, and strode towards Steve.

The other boy’s smile spread wider, his eyes twinkling.

Eddie was fucked.

___

#a stranger summer #stranger things fic #steve harrington/eddie munson #steddie #steddie fic

409 notes · View notes

voidpetrova · 8 months

Text

pretty boy — stiles stilinski x reader

☄. *. ⋆

content warnings and genre: swearing, alcohol consumption, tit play, unprotected p in v sex, virgin!sub!stiles x experienced!dom!reader — smut

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

synopsis: the closest thing he had come to having sex was with his fist, until he confessed to you, that is

✧.*

in a dimly lit motel room, the buzzing neon sign outside cast intermittent flashes of light across the peeling wallpaper. the air was thick with tension as stiles stilinski, the epitome of social awkwardness and love-deprivation, sat on one of the twin beds, fumbling with his phone. scott had left to chase after allison, leaving stiles alone with his thoughts and an abundance of uncomfortable silence. just as he contemplated diving into another episode of his favorite tv show to escape the loneliness, there was a soft knock on the door. with a puzzled expression, he pulled it open, revealing you—bold, snarky, and an undeniable knockout. you sauntered in, a sly grin playing on your lips, and in your hand, a six-pack of beer.

“hey there, loser,” you greeted, taking in the melancholic atmosphere. “looks like we've got a room all to ourselves tonight. mind if i join the pity party?” stiles' eyes widened in surprise, a mix of embarrassment and relief washing over him. “uh, sure, come on in,” he stammered, hastily clearing a space on the other bed for you.

you cracked open a beer, handing one to stiles, and settled in comfortably. “so, what's got you wallowing in self-pity?” you asked, your tone laced with genuine curiosity. stiles took a sip of his beer and sighed, avoiding eye contact. “i've been doing some thinking,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “how is it that i've never gotten laid?”

you observed him for a moment, your sharp wit temporarily softened by empathy. “stiles, being in a relationship isn't the be-all and end-all of life,” you said, your voice reassuring. “besides, you're unique in your own quirky way. maybe you just haven't found the right person yet.” he looked at you, his eyes reflecting a mixture of longing and insecurity. “you think so?”

“absolutely,” you affirmed, leaning in a bit closer. “you're a good guy, stiles. you deserve someone who appreciates your quirks and cares about you for who you are.” as the night wore on and the beer cans dwindled, a connection grew between you two. stiles, usually tongue-tied and nervous around others, found himself opening up to you like he never had before. your witty banter and genuine interest put him at ease, making him forget his insecurities.

and then, in the quiet of that dingy motel room, stiles found the courage to confess his feelings. “you know, i've had a crush on you for a while now,” he admitted, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment. you raised an eyebrow, a playful smirk gracing your lips. “oh, really? i had no idea,” you teased.

stiles chuckled nervously, his heart pounding in his chest. “yeah, well, i guess it's hard not to when you're so—amazing.” you leaned in closer until your faces were just inches apart. “you know, stiles,” you whispered, “i've had my eye on you too.”

in that small, dimly lit motel room, something shifted between you and stiles. two people, seemingly different in every way, found a connection that transcended their differences. as the night deepened, you and stiles shared more than just beer; you shared stories, dreams, and a newfound closeness that neither of you had expected. it was a moment of vulnerability and connection that would change the course of their lives, igniting a spark of something beautiful amidst the chaos of teenagehood. and as the neon sign outside flickered on and off, it seemed to mirror the uncertainty and excitement of the journey that lay ahead for stiles and the you.

“so,” you began, discarding the empty can of liquid gold as you spoke. you met his gaze, his nervous, shaky gaze with a hint of something unexplainable in your own. whatever it was, it drew him to you. just as much as his nervousness drew you to him. “never been laid, huh?”

the question had him taken aback, leaving him with an almost offended expression as he scoffed. “you almost sound surprised.” he inquired with a, yet again nervous, chuckle. you shrugged, taking the opportunity to sit next to him on the ragged, uncomfortable sheets. “you're a pretty boy, sti, you could say i'm surprised, sure.” he didn't know which part got to him first—perhaps it was the way your tone shifted from playful to seductive in a matter of seconds, or maybe it was the way your siren-like eyes held his shy gaze with an immense need to ruin him. before everything else, he was absolutely sure it was your words that had gotten to him first. pretty boy. yes, the way his jeans tightened only confirmed his lingering thoughts.

“you think i'm pretty?” it almost sounded like a statement, rather than your typical question. you smiled rather gently, fingertips slowly creeping up on him, brushing his hair softly, trailing down his clothed chest, gracefully caressing his bulge through his jeans. “so pretty.” you affirmed.

stiles didn't know how to kiss, he didn't have as much experience as you did. he lacked the experience and tact you had, but not the passion. not the passion, not with you guiding him every step of the way ever so gently. your hands cupped his cheeks, tracing his jawline as you coaxed him into the kiss, allowing him to take baby steps into relaxing and finally melting into it. once he did, you found your tongue sliding into his mouth, intertwining with his as your teeth tugged at his bottom lip, sucking gently. you heard him gasp, and it was adorable. he was like putty under your touch.

“you sure you wanna do this?” the question came out almost as soon as the kiss was broken, leaving him panting with a painful ache in his cock. he nodded, almost too eagerly, puppy eyes desperate to experience this more than ever. you littered kitten licks and kisses down his neck, relishing in the way he shivered at the sensation. you had successfully gotten rid of his shirt, feeling how he only grew more and more eager to get on with it. before you could go any further, you found yourself pushing him back onto the bed, straddling his lap.

he watched in awe from below as you peeled your top off, pulling it off your head, leaving you in a stunning black bra. his eyes admired the curve of your tits, the way the bra squished them together, the recoil incoming with every move you made. “c'mere, baby, don't be shy.” you cooed, encouraging stiles to do more than just stare. it was just what he needed to hear. though inexperienced, he allowed himself to do what he felt was right—peeling your bra off, soft moans of pleasure leaving his mouth as he allowed him to fondle and grope your fatty tits, sucking on them and toying with them in a way that made both of you moan. he had his face buried into the valley of your boobs, teeth grazing the sensitive flesh as you pulled at his dark hair. he looked up at you, with an utterly innocent, horny gaze, saliva dripping down his chin as you watched him rut against the mattress, desperate for some kind of soothing friction. it made you all the more ready to ruin him.

“please, (y/n),” you had him begging for you to help him out, just a little bit. while you helped him remove his jeans, you couldn't ignore the way his moans got you worked up and wet. “gotta fuck you, please, please, please.” it was a string of incoherent pleading and whining, he was even more worked up than you were. he had no other way to act, what, with your tongue dragging alongside his clothed dick, teasing and taunting the wet spot on his boxers. you nuzzled your nose against him, tongue tracing his balls as you listened to the way he meweled, beads of sweat dropping down his temple.

that night, the first thing you found out about stiles was that he was sensitive. extremely sensitive. the second thing? he was hung. the sight of his bare dick made your eyes widen, the same way the feeling of the cool air hitting his hot, angry, hard cock made him hiss. unbeknownst to you, he had been carrying a, vaguely-spoken, above-average size this entire time. it wasn't something he chose to brag about—what would the context be? certainly not how he jacked off to photos of you every night, to polaroids he had taken of you on the beach or the mere thought of you in the position you were currently in. no, surprising you like this was much better.

“big boy, aren't you, sti?” the way you cooed, as if talking to a toddler, made his cock throb. he whined in response, breath hitching in his throat as you used your thumb to smear his dripping precum all over his cock, lubricating it with the thin layer of arousal. “you're gonna make a mess of me.” he hadn't planned on it until now.

he truly didn't know what to expect fron sex up until now. sure, he's heard stories from friends thay included scott and danny, he's heard the standard it set compared to using a hand to get off. however, feeling it for the first time—it was absolutely incomparable. it was another realm of euphoria, feeling his throbbing, aching cock slip into your wet, tight heat. you didn't have to prep yourself or anything, his long, hard dick gliding into the tight ring of muscle without a care in the world. he felt you flutter around him, the sensation better and tighter than when he uaually jacked off. his jaw slacked, eyelashes fluttering as a moan got caught in his throat. he knew he wasn't gonna last long.

“too fuck—fucking tight, jesus, shit—” none of his words were easy to make out, each one coming out slower than the last as you allowed yourself to bounce on his dick, hands pressed to his chest as his cock slid in and out of you. your tits were pressed to his face, and you couldn't help but moan lowly, the thin motel walls offering you little to no support. “so big, stiles,” you gasped out. you were full, fuller than you've ever been or felt up until now. his thick tip was pressing against your cervix, kissing it as he fucked you. “shit, too fucking big, sti.”

he loved it, loved knowing how good he made you feel. he used it to his advantage, repeating things he had only seen in pornos—rubbing your clit, fondling your tits, and grabbing onto your hips, grinding you down onto his dick as he fucked himself into you. he knew he was close, especially fast for his first time, especially fast for your third time. “i—i can't,” he forewarned, and he couldn't.

when he came, his mind went absolutely blank. he came hard, with a loud moan that had come off as unexpected for both of you. he came long and hard, harder than ever before, shooting all of his cum into your cunt, your pussy milking his cock completely, sucking every last drop out. his vision was blurry for a few seconds, and his mouth dry, the inability to form sentences overpowering him. if there was one thing you were good at, it was fucking.

and boy, were you a fucking good one.

#tw #teen wolf #teen wolf imagine #teen wolf fanficfion #teen wolf smut #teen wolf angst #teen wolf fluff #stiles stilinski #stiles stilinski imagine #stiles stilinski fanfiction #stiles x reader #stiles stilinski smut #stilea stilinski angst #stiles stilinski fluff #stiles stilinski x reader smut #stiles is so fine bye

2K notes · View notes

yuyusboyfriend · 8 months

Text

Good Boy ✧.

roommate!yunho drives me crazy bro...

pairing: roommate!yunho x gn!reader

wordcount: 1,7k

content: helping your roommate with a hard problem...

warnings: nsfw, pet names (tiny, baby, good boy), handjob, cum eating, dirty talk (?), lots of praise, sub!yunho dom!reader (lmk if I missed anything)

comments and reblogs appreciated <3

masterlist!˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

When you usually walk through the door after a long day of classes, you'd hear your roommate, yunho, crashing around in the kitchen cooking up something for you both to eat once you got home. Sometimes he would be in his room playing valorant, shouting down the mic to his friend group telling mingi to step up his game -

Tonight? There's no noise. Atleast that's what it seemed like, until you hear a sniffle coming from the corridor as you place your shoes by the door. "is....is he crying?" you whisper to yourself as if the house was going to answer back. As you drop your bag on the counter and take small steps towards your roommates room, all you hear is shuffling, followed by the squeaks of a bedframe.

"No....is someone here with him?", your heart sank at the thought. Not that you had shared this with anyone but your close friend, woo, but some time after yunho moved in, you started having....dreams... about him. At first they were innocent, like playing games and having movie nights, but after the first few you noticed they became more...sexual. The first night you jumped in horror, filled head to toe with guilt and a hotter feeling you couldn't put into words, but grateful that your yelp didn't wake up the boy on the other side of the wall. When he stroked your arm that morning, a normal gesture between the two of you (at least usually), you jumped out of your skin and flinched away from him.

"You okay, tiny?" concern in his voice hitting your ears mixing with the guilt in your head.

"Sorry, yeah im good, just no sleep", you pulled your best fake smile despite all the questions running through your head; why the skin on your arm where yunhos hand formerly was feel like it was burning up? Why was your heart racing so fast? Why did the droplets on yunho's face and neck from the reminence of his shower make your throat feel like the Sahara desert?

"Were you up playing ac with seonghwa again? I told him to not keep you up late anymore, I'm gonna message him aga-"

"It's okay, yunho, seonghwa was probably fast asleep, it was just too....cold", You cut his worrying off with the lamest excuse you could think of. After that encounter, every touch yunho initiated, every time he jumped into your bed when he was bored, or wrapped his arms around you when he put his hoodie on you, made your whole body heat like you had swallowed the sun. You wondered if he did it on purpose, if he knew the control he had over your heart rate....

..."I guess not." You held back an aching tear at the prospect of yunho having someone on his bed that wasn't you. You silently begged the stars that it wasn't the case as you creeped closer to his room. one step. Two steps. You noticed the door was cracked open. three steps.

"y/n please.."

What? did he just say y/n? you stop just short of his door to process what you just heard. Were you hallucinating? was the stress of school and your crush finally getting to your head to the point you think you heard yunho say-

"fuck, y/n please." he says again, this time a litre of desperation in his gravelly voice apparent. He was practically panting out your name in what sounded like frustration, his breaths shaky and uneven.

You took another step forward, finally standing in his doorframe to add a visual to what you've been hearing. Holy fuck.

Yunho splayed out on his bed gripping the sheets with one hand and furiously rocking his hips into the other. His hoodie, once held between his teeth, now pathetically shifting over his sensitive skin making him harder, if it was even possible.

His tip looked red and angry to say the least, his skin was glistening from sweat and he could barely keep his eyes open. How long had he been at this for?

You realise you've been standing here, perving over your unknowing roommate, but as you attempt to step away from the scene of the crime to try and forget what you've witnessed (even though you know this will fuel your dreams for the next month) you felt your keys slip out of your previously suffocating grip.

With a loud clash, no thanks to your 80 keychains, you let out a panicked squeak and yunho jumped to cover himself on the bed at the noise, till he realises what just happened.

"Y/n it's not- I'm-" he tries to get the words out but after his body had been working in overdrive, nothing made sense.

"Sorry yunho, I didn't see anything!" you yelped out as you tried to turn around and run to your own room, but a firm grip on your arm turns you back to yunho.

He was disheveled and had barely managed to put himself back into his sweatpants, the friction excruciating on his aching tip. God, he looked angelic, his hood still over his head covering his sweat drenched hair, and overshadowing the deep red on his cheeks and ears. His eyes darting to look everywhere but yours, eventually settling on your lips.

"y/n...I need... please help me." he whispered while rubbing circles into your arm, scared for your answer.

"sit." Your shaky voice betraying your attempt at being assertive. Nonetheless, yunho walks backward till he falls back, you following in tow.

He's already whimpering at you sitting down and straddling one of his legs as you start to pull his grey sweats down just enough once again.

"god.." You think. He looked big before when he was stroking himself, and you always suspected he was packing by the indent in his towel after showers, but seeing it up close was a game changer.

"think about my size later y/n, please it hurts.." He whimpers out, making you realise you had said it out loud. Putting your embarrasment aside, you brush your thumb down the underside of his dick till you reach the base, where you wrap your whole hand (barely, his girth was just as impressive) and squeeze a little, testing the waters. He cried out in pleasure from your touch, begging for more, and rutting his hips up best he can - in the process giving you some friction making your mind a little fuzzy.

You worked your hand up and down his angry cock turning him into a blubbering mess. Yunho was so overwhelmed by the sensations his brain had short-circuited and all he could blubber out between was "baby please", "y/n fuck, ah", "tiny nnghh".

"am I making you feel good, yuyu?" you asked with a sultry voice and hooded eyes. You could die a happy person right now if this is the last thing you see. God, yunho was in such state, sticky glistening skin looking edible.

"Yuyu. Answer me baby, or I'll stop." You teased, not even sure you'd be able to stop if you tried.

"baby yes yes please god fuck tiny im so close." He huffed out while vigorously nodding his head. What a sweet boy - too bad you couldn't help teasing him a little more. You slowed down the pace making him whine and cry out a symphony of pleads. Music to your ears, you don't know how you lived your whole life without this.

"please tiny, I'll be good please, let me cum" he cried, his voice breaking.

"you sound so pretty like this yuyu... you're such a good boy." His dick leaked precum and twitched in your palm at the pet names, something you'd keep in mind for a later date. You sped your pace back up again and started nibbling on his burning earlobe, making him cry out whatever was coming to his fucked out brain.

"I'm your good boy ah, tiny, please-" and another string of curses and whimpers. You could tell by his tightening grip on you that he was close. He could feel the knot in his stomach getting tighter, ready to snap.

"be a good boy and cum for me, yuyu."

Thats all it took for his whole body to tense up, cum spurting out of his cock in ropes, reaching your face and soaking your hand. He slumped against your shoulder from exhaustion and euphoria as you pumped your hand around him once more, letting him ride out his high.

"y/n," Yunho shot his head up with a sorry expression now that the brain fog had cleared. "I'm so sorry I didn't mean to drag you into thi-" before he could finish, you distracted his train of thought by wiping the cum off of your cheek, and experimentally licking the tip of your finger. A little salty but surprisingly sweet? Before giving him a peck on the cheek to see where his head was at.

He watched in awe as you put his cum on the tip of your tongue, nearly eliciting a second orgasm from him just at the sight. When you pulled away from his cheek a dark blush covered his ears and face, and his round eyes filled with shock that you didn't hate him after that, guilt fading with every millisecond.

His eyes locked with your plump lips before pulling you in to join his. Your mouths molded together as though they were made for eachother, and you swiped your tongue along his bottom lip asking for access. Of course he slipped his tongue into your mouth and kissed you like a starved man, biting your lip and caressing your jaw. After minutes of claiming his mouth you finally broke away for air.

with a glint in your eye looking into his, "So, how you going to repay me yuyu?"

my first fic 😭😭😭 this was suppose to just be drabble but man ....... I love yunho

this isn't proofread or anything so sorry for any mistakes❤️‍🩹

#ateez x reader #yunho x reader #ateez imagines #jeong yunho #yunho smut #ateez smut #ateez yunho #jeong yunho x reader #ateez fanfic #ateez smut fic #jeong yunho smut #kpop x reader #kpop x y/n #ateez x male reader #ateez x y/n #ateez drabbles #ateez scenarios

1K notes · View notes

calypsocolada · 4 months

Text

how the jjk boys react to being jealous...ft. itadori, megumi, gojo, nanami, & takuma

authors note: MERRY CHRISTMAS

cw: slightly suggestive, angst, healthy jealousy

wc: 3.6k

Itadori doesn’t really get jealous much but when he does he’s pouty. He’s late for a date one night and when he opens the door to your favorite restaurant he spots you in the corner. You’re smiling and laughing at something the waiter had said. Itadori felt a pang of jealousy in his chest. He was just about the only one who could make you laugh like that and he didn’t like some random guy trying to take his place. Your eyes meet Itadori and they light up. The waiter looks back, a bit flustered when he spots the sour faced Itadori.

“I’ll get those drinks in for ya.” He says and walks away rather fast. Itadori leans over the table and kisses your cheek as he slides into the booth across from you.

“Sorry I was late,” he starts as you smile.

“Everything okay?” You ask, your infinite kindness speaking. He nods his head.

“Christmas traffic.” He shrugs as you nod your head in understanding.

He obviously didn’t want to say but he was out getting you a present. He didn’t fancy himself good with gift giving but he had an idea late last night and was hunting around for the item all morning. He finally found it then realized he was gonna be late.

“I’m glad I got all that crap done early.” You said as he reached for your hand, pulling your knuckles to his lips to press a kiss. The waiter comes back and sets the drinks down on the table and Itadori can’t hide the look on his face when the waiter smiles down at you. He pouts a bit when you smile back. He knows you’re being polite and he also knows he’s being pouty. He can’t help it. You’re a lot of things Itadori likes. You’re kind and caring, funny and smart. He likes the way you think and your attention to detail. He’s lost a lot of people he loves and lately the way he thinks about them has changed. He’s become over protective but he can’t help it. He can’t lose anyone else.

“Yuji?” Your voice breaks through to him, he was lost in thought. He blinks, clearing his throat. He tells the waiter his order and watches as the man shoots another one last flirty look at you before leaving. You hadn’t even given the waiter the attention he wanted. Instead you were reaching across the table for Itadori’s hands. “You sure you’re okay?” You ask and he gives your hand a gentle squeeze.

“I think the waiter has a crush.” He says and you start to laugh.

“Yeah I noticed that. I’m glad you got here when you did.” You say and he calms. He knows you’re not the type who would cheat, that's not really where his jealousy was stemming from. It was just the fact that he liked being the one to make you happy and didn’t trust strangers. He gives you a soft smile and you cock your head slightly. “Wait…” you trail off and when he looks at you you have a smirk on your lips. “Are you jealous, Yuji?” You ask and Itadori shakes his head.

“I- Of course not! I just- I noticed he was a little smiley that’s all.” He stutters out as you raise a brow, slowly nodding your head.

“Uh huh.” You jest, hiding a giggle behind your hand.

“Okay fine. Yes a little,” he relents as you nod along with his words.

“That’s cute.” You say and he gets up, sliding into your booth. It was all very smooth.

“No I’m not,” he says, pink cheeked as he presses a kiss to your lips.

Megumi is very protective, and gets jealous pretty easily. He doesn’t open up to many people and so when you cracked him wide open with your kindness and patience he didn’t know what to do. He also didn’t know what to do when you became good friends with Todo. That freaked him right out. You two were polar opposites but he’d see you across campus with that giant idiot drinking tea or laughing together. That made him sick to his stomach with jealousy. Nobara and Itadori are sick of hearing about it. They’ve told him time and time again to just ask you out but he couldn’t. He couldn’t just ask you out, it had to be special. He had to know you felt the same, he didn’t want to embarrass you or make things awkward.

So instead he got stuck in a cycle. Of hanging out with you and blushing and crushing and being crushed when he’d see you giggling with Todo the next day.

After about three weeks of this cycle Megumi couldn’t take it anymore. He couldn’t think of you being with someone else. He wanted you so bad it was messing him up inside and out. He saw you across the courtyard one day and suddenly his feet were taking him to you. Todo was first to look up. He gave him a sharp look. Todo didn’t like him very well for stupid reasons Megumi didn’t care to think about anymore. You turned once you saw Todo’s face. Your face lit up, a smile overtaking your lips.

“Fushiguro,” You crooned, “Want to join us?” You asked. Megumi cleared his throat.

“Can we talk?” He asked and your brows raised slightly as you nodded your head. You excused yourself and jogged to catch up with Megumi who had wandered off a few feet away.

“Is everything okay?” You asked as you caught up with him. He had his head down, his hands stuffed inside his pocket, he looked almost nervous.

“Uh yeah, everything’s fine.” He mumbled quickly. He couldn’t look at you, he was so damn nervous. “I just- I was wondering,” he cleared his throat again. “Are you and Todo- uh, together?” For a moment you stared at him, processing his words.

“Together?” You echoed and he finally met your eyes. He was blushing, cheeks rosy red. And that’s when it all clicked together for you. The red cheeks, the hopeful look. You sucked in a breath. “Oh, Fushiguro.” You said and then couldn’t help but let a small laugh escape your lips. He looked tortured. “Are you jealous?” You asked and his eyes widened.

“What- of course not! I was just- I was asking.” He said all in one breath. You smiled up at him, his hair was a mess from him nervously running his hands through it. You reach up and run your fingers through it to smooth it out. He froze under your touch, like a deer in headlights.

“Todo and I are friends. In fact he’s like a brother.” You said but your words did nothing to ease his thumping heart. He was still nervous and the fact there was no romantic connection between you and Todo meant something that made his hands shake slightly.

“Oh, okay- that’s yeah- that’s good.” He stuttered. You smiled at his words.

“That’s good, huh?” You asked with a sly smile. He swallowed as he nodded his head. “Why’s that, Fushiguro?” Seeing him like this was a treat. Megumi was always very put together. Very stoic and calm. But right now you were making a mess of him in this courtyard.

“I just- well,” He scratched at the back of his head. “Todo’s not right for you. That’s why. I was just looking out for you.”

“Looking out for me, huh,” You smirked, you reached for his hands, he was trembling slightly. “That’s awful kind of you.” You say as your warm fingers meet his cold ones. “And what would be right for me?”

“Hmm?” He barely mumbled out, eyes locked to your hands on his.

“You said Todo’s not right for me, so what would be right?” You ask, thumb tracing circles in his palm. You were being very distracting on purpose. You liked Megumi and Todo had recently been coaching you on how to possibly get Megumi to confess. Most of his pointers were very direct so you took a few and decided to be sly.

“You need someone smart,” he starts out, it makes you laugh.

“Todo’s very smart.” You say and Megumi makes a face that makes you giggle. “Alright, so someone smart.”

“Uh huh, and patient,” he adds. You nod. “Someone who’s not a meathead.”

“You sound a bit judgmental, Fushiguro.” You jest, your teasing must’ve calmed the situation down because Megumi looked less nervous. His fingers interlock with yours, shocking you slightly.

“I am judgmental, I want the best for you.” He says and your heart skips a much needed beat. It was your turn to be nervous this time. “Todo’s not the best.“

“Then who is?” You ask and he looks at you with those pretty eyes.

“I am.” He says and something shifts in the air when he steps closer.

“Fushiguro,” you start, as his hand slides against your cheek, fingers brushing your hair behind your ear.

“Don’t you agree?” He asks huskily.

Gojo is the worst. He’s more jealous than any man you’ve ever known. A waiter will bring your food and smile, Gojo a moment later will say, “Your boyfriend is so nice.” Always stuff like that.

So one day you decide to play into it. Gojo has always been a little jealous of you and Nanami’s friendship. You two met in school, you couldn’t stand Gojo back then, you hung out with Nanami and Haibara.

You got early to a Jujutsu High meeting and instead of saving a seat for Gojo you sat beside Nanami. Gojo got there late and when you turned his eyes met yours and you just gave him a sly wink. After the meeting you hugged Nanami goodbye and walked over to your boyfriend. You could tell he was annoyed, you gave him a smile and a quick kiss on the cheek.

“That meeting ran long.”

“It sure did,” He pouted, following you out to the parking lot. “It would've gone faster if you had saved me a seat.”

“How would that make it go faster, Satoru?” He grabs you by the wrist, pulling you out of the hall and into a dark back room.

“We could’ve slipped away,” he whispers against your neck before pressing a kiss there. “Instead you chose to sit next to stuffy.” He trails kisses up your neck to your lips and presses his body against yours, pinning you to the door.

“That’s not nice.” You say slightly out of breath.

“That’s why I said it,” he mumbles against your lips.

Nanami sat straightening himself at his desk. He took in a deep breath and ran his hands through his hair. The deadline was creeping closer and closer and god dammit he couldn’t get ahead of this thing. He’d been working on this damn project for hours now. He reached up and loosened his tie, nearly taking it off. There's a soft knock on the door and you peek your head in.

“Sir, can I interrupt?” You asked and he looked up, he could feel his stress depleting just at the sight of you.

“Yes, of course.” He waves you in. You shoulder softly inside, a tray in your hands. You give him a soft smile as you set it down on his desk.

“I brought you your favorite sandwich, Sir, and some hot tea.” You say and Nanami can’t help but give you the smallest of smiles.

“You are an angel.” he says, pushing his keyboard out of the way. You go to slip out of his office. “Wait.” He asks, you stop turning back to him. He cuts his sandwich in half. “Have you eaten?” He asks as you glance at the sandwich then back to him, shaking your head. “Sit with me,” He offers. You walk across the room and sit opposite of him. He slides half a sandwich over to you and you smile at him.

“Thank you sir.” You say.

“Please, you can call me Nanami.” He says he's told you this a few times but he is your boss after all. You nodded your head, soft apologizing as you bit into your sandwich.

“Nanami,” There was another knock at the door. Nanami’s boss walked inside as you straightened. “How’s the project going?” He asked, his eagle eyes skimming along the curves of your body before looking at Nanami. Nanami saw the whole thing, saw the clammy uncomfortable look on your face. Nanami didn’t know this but the higher up boss was quite the ass, he constantly hit on you, never remembered your name and also never looked you in the eyes, he was always too busy checking you out.

“It’s going.” Nanami answered shortly. The boss walked a few steps in, cocking his head to the side.

“Take a break there, sweetheart?” He asked you as you went red, instantly embarrassed.

“Y/n, her name is Y/n. And I asked her to since she’s working overtime with me.” Nanami says coolly. The boss raises his brows, looking between the pair.

“Well don’t work her too hard there, Nanami.” He says, winking to you before exiting the room. You turn back but your appetite has gone slightly.

“Does he talk like that to you often?” He asks as you look down at your hands.

“It’s okay,” You say.

“It’s really not.” He says softly. You look up and meet his kind eyes. Usually when you went to HR about things like that you were ignored. You need the money and you liked working here, especially working for Nanami. He had a trusting deposition about him. You swallowed dryly.

“Yes, he talks like that to me all the time. It’s-- it’s not a big deal, I can put up with it.”

“I’ll take care of it.” He says simply, taking a sip of his tea.

“You’ll take care of it?” You ask as he gives you a nod.

“You don’t have to put up with anything, you're not some pretty thing for him to ogle.” He says and meets your eyes. You wonder if Nanami thought you were pretty before your mind realized how silly you were being. You cleared your throat.

“Thank you very much, Sir-- Nanami.” You said.

Nanami did take care of things. In fact you never saw that ignorant boss ever again. You also accidentally ran into him outside of work a few days after the big boss was fired. You waved at him, from across the bar. You didn’t know if it was inappropriate to share a drink outside of work but Nanami waved you over.

“I didn’t want to interrupt,” You said. “I just wanted to thank you for taking my side.”

“You're not interrupting.” He says, his voice warm like cinnamon whiskey in your stomach, something fluttering at the way he looks down at you. “I’m sorry I didn’t notice sooner.”

“You couldn’t have.” You say. “All that matters is he’s gone.” You say and he nods his head, raising a glass to that. You and Nanami spend the entire night talking and when it’s time for the last call he buys you one last drink and you two leave. He walks you back to your house and drapes his jacket over your shoulders, you two talk the entire way there. You get to your door and unlock it, holding it open. “Want to come in, warm up a bit? I could make some coffee?” You ask. Nanami leans on the door, he looks behind you like he is contemplating the pros and cons of coming into your house past midnight. You think for a second he’ll turn you down but then he pushes off the doorframe and nods his head. He brushes past you as you shut the door behind him. You fix him coffee and stay up talking with him until the sun starts to rise. You laugh when he gasps at his watch.

“Fuck,” He groans. “I have to work in forty-five minutes.” He pushes up from the table.

“Oh, shit, I’m so sorry.” You apologize, springing up from the table. “I can give you a ride.”

“You stay home, take the day off.” He says, reaching for his jacket.

“I can’t do that to you.” You say, reaching for your own coat but he catches you by the wrist, the contact shooting through your body.

“I want you to.” He says softly, your eyes locking. You can’t help it, you spent the night trying not to stare at his lips, trying to be very professional but dammit you weren’t perfect. Your eyes dipped to his lips as you cleared your throat.

“Maybe you should take the day off too.” You say and Nanami looks down at you with those searching eyes. You're standing right by the front door, the hallway never felt smaller between the two of you.

“And do what?” He asked, his voice husky. Your throat went dry.

“Well, you're already here so maybe have some breakfast.” You say, taking a half step closer to him.

“Thought you said you couldn’t cook?” He asked teasingly, taking a step closer to you.

“Eggs and bacon are fairly easy.” You whisper and reach across the small space to straighten his tie. His eyes follow your hands.

“It's hard to mess them up.” He whispers back, hands slowly sliding onto your waist, fingers dipping into your hips. You try very hard to hide your smirk.

“I could use some help,” You say, letting your fingers slide off his tie and around the back of his neck.

“Thank god I’m here then.” He says and dips his head down, you tilt your head and your lips meet.

You rushed forwards, shouldering through hospital doors. You race around the corner and scan the door numbers, searching for thirteen. You spot it at the end of the hall and pick up speed, tears pricking at the sides of your eyes as your hand meets the cold steel of the door handle. You wrench it open, you see Nanami first, he stands, hands in his pockets. You brush right past him and see Takuma. He’s sat up in the bed, awake, despite what the doctors told you on the phone. He has bandages across his torso and two cuts on his face. Fresh tears spring to your eyes as you rush to the bed and he opens his arms for you to fall into.

“I’m sorry,” He mumbles against the top of your head. He knows he scared you, that's why he’s apologizing. You knew nothing about the Jujutsu world, only bits that Takuma had told you, which is few and far between and also just really out of reach to understand. The only thing you did know was that Takuma came from most of his missions badly roughed up. You hated his job, it scared you shitless everytime he was gone and your phone would ring. You knew a lot of those sorcerers didn’t make it home after missions.

You sniffed, as Takuma wiped the tears from your face gently. This happens every time.

“I’m alright, I’m right here.” He spoke softly to you. A sort of mantra that calms you down. You pushed up slightly and pressed a kiss to his lips, your finger tracing a new scar down the side of his face. You turned to Nanami.

“Can we have a moment?” You asked and the blond man nodded his head, leaving the room.

“Honey,”

“Ino, I told you. I told you how much I hated this job of yours.” You start. “Do you know how fucking scared I was driving over here?” You were crying again, Takuma pulled you back into his chest.

“I know,” He sounded so guilty, so apologetic. “I told Nanami to let me call you, so you wouldn’t worry.” He said, kissing the top of your head.

“I hate this. That no good mentor of yours is gonna get you killed.” You grumbled.

“I thought you liked Nanami?” He asked as you pushed up slightly to be able to look at him. “Thought maybe you liked him even more than me.” You scoffed at that but when he didn’t laugh you realized he was a bit jealous.

“Ino, I am your girlfriend, we live together, I’m currently crying on top of you. I love you, not your stuffy mentor.”

“He’s not stuffy.” He says as you press a kiss to his lips.

“He’s not you either.” You say and Takuma can’t help but smile at that. “Is that why you’ve been working so much? Because you think I like Nanami more?”

“Maybe…” Takuma mumbles. Your hand slides against his jaw, running through his hair, fingers playing with the ends.

“That’s really cute, Ino.” You say as he throws an arm around your waist, tossing the blanket over you two. You kick off your shoes as he presses another kiss to the top of your head.

“Sorry, we're spending Christmas night in the hospital.” He says as he grabs the remote, clicking through channels.

“We spent your birthday and thanksgiving here too, it’s like our little tradition.” You say, knowing how macabre that sounded. He shuffled down a bit and pecked a kiss to your lips.

“I’ll get better, baby, I promise.” He promises as you turn to face him in the bed.

“I know you will. I have no doubt about that.” You say with a sure smile.

677 notes · View notes

grimm-writings · 1 month

Note

Hi there!

I'd like to request something for the Laios party x reader where reader licks rocks like how archaeologists sometimes do to determine if it's a rock or a fossil. They just won't stop licking stuff. One moment you are just having a chat and walking side by side and the next reader grabs a rock and licks it. How would they react to their crush licking things that are certainly not food?

“stop licking the damn thing!”

…ft! touden party x gn! reader, platonic izutsumi & reader

…tags! fluff, some crack, headcanon format, grimm doesn't know shit about rocks

…wc! 342 ; 400 ; 405 ; 344 ; 303 = 1794

…notes! this ask enraptured me i had to complete it posthaste. i’m not an expert in archeology or geology, but i hope you enjoy!

Laios

“Ooh, can I have a lick?”

His ass does NOT give a fuck.

You could do anything and he wouldn’t be fazed I’m dead serious.

Honestly, once you do it in front of him he’d steer the conversation towards your study and how you figure out each time what is a rock and what is a fossil.

He may not fully take in all the information you give him. This isn’t a topic he’s admittedly too interested in.

Honestly he’d probably take up some of your advice and see if he tastes monster he can figure out certain things about it. Considering most monsters are made of raw meat, he has to be held back by your fellow partymates.

Someone (Chilchuck) usually has to encourage you to not “enable his behaviours.”

Overall, Laios simply does not judge! He’s open and welcoming, and will even take part in your study with you!

(It’s an added bonus that he really likes how you explain things to him…)

Almost like an eager dog, Laios leans over your shoulder to look at the stone in your hand. Prepared to explain yourself, like usual, you take a breath. “May I?” he interrupts you. You still for a second. Does he mean…? You slowly lift the rock up to the taller man behind you. You don’t have any words as he leans down to give a small lick. You’re almost flattered from how open he is to it. At the taste, Laios’ eyebrows furrow, and he seems to seriously try to dissect the flavour. He hums and tilts his head to you. “Salty?” “Yeah,” you reply, slowly growing a bit more comfortable as you get an excuse to talk about your study, “so that means this rock might contain evaporite minerals.” Laios smiles slightly, leaning back to his full height to converse with you in a more casual position. “Which are?” Your conversation continues, with Laios taking mental notes that he’ll hopefully remember for later next time he comes across a monster. Maybe if you find a gargoyle…

Marcille

Sorry she is so judgemental.

You are so lucky she likes you or else she’ll loudly give her opinion on how gross it is.

Well, that is until she learns the context as to why.

She’ll still be a little bit unsure, wondering if it’s proper conduct at all.

Marcille is trying her best, she really is, but you can’t just end a conversation so suddenly because you saw a rock, licked it in front of her, and said “hm… sedimentary.”

She wonders every day what she did to deserve such an… interesting taste in crushes.

Though, like all things, give Marcille some time and she’ll warm up to your habits a bit more. It may even be that she’ll be wondering about her study of the dungeon, running her hand along the wall, and thinking that she could call out to you to taste the wall and tell her the material.

She may not try out the method herself, but she’ll at least tolerate how you do it. There’s a science behind it, after all…

Marcille stares as you lick your lips and hum to yourself. Her mouth is a thin line and she’s trying her best not to come out with a disapproving comment. “Any… interesting findings…?” She stiffly asks instead, gripping Ambrosia as if you’ll try licking her to figure out the levels of Mana too. You can never be too cautious, even if she is only made out of wood. You smile at Marcille, either blissfully unaware of her austerity or pretending to be. You hold up the stone in your hand and outline something with your finger. “I think if we break this, we might find some fossils inside it. You can keep it for your research if you want.” Marcille’s ears perk up slightly at that. “For… me?” She asks aloud, as if there’s anyone else who’d be interested in dungeon rocks. As soon as she processes it she’s flushed and avoiding eye contact. “I mean, this is your field of study, not mine! I couldn’t possibly…” But you take her hands in your own, and place the fossil in her palm. Marcille’s breath hitches when you take her fingers and fold them over the stone. “I trust you to come up with something.” You beam at the elf, and she thinks that she might just have to take a chance in your skills.

Chilchuck

Not exactly open to it, not entirely critical about it either…

…But you will get a bit of a look whenever you do it.

He might be more the kind to make sure you aren’t outright doing it at stupid moments. You better not get any ideas looking at those statues!

Sometimes you’ll be about to hold the stone up to your mouth, and right when your tongue is about to touch it, you’ll hear Chilchuck sigh a “don’t.”

Honestly this guy is treating you like a dog with something it shouldn’t have in its mouth. Don’t worry, worrying and fretting is how he shows his love.

Even if he doesn’t like admitting to it…

If you try to explain how licking things helps in your study, Chil is inclined to raise his eyebrow and say that your field must be full of weirdos.

Then again, he’s the one who likes you so maybe he shouldn’t be too harsh…

He’s willing to let you do what you need to do but that doesn’t mean you’re free from his scathing commentary.

Crouched down, you analyse some rock in front of you. It stands out a fair bit from most of the other geodes down here. What could it be…? You lean in, your tongue grazing the stone slightly, and you lick. The tip of your tongue familiarises itself with the taste. Maybe metamorphic…? “Are you serious?” You freeze at the sound of Chilchuck’s boyish voice. On your hands and knees licking rocks isn’t exactly the ideal position to be judged in, even as you turn to look at the half-foot, arms crossed. “Senshi is in the middle of cooking, no need to resort to eating rocks.” You roll your eyes. You’re used to how Chilchuck treats your study at this point. “I was just curious.” Chilchuck scoffs, walking up to pull you by the back of your collar up onto your feet again, which you do with some coercion. “Yeah sure,” he says, “just wanna confirm you haven’t completely lost your marbles yet.” You look up at him, and squint. Holding back a laugh, you mutter, “was that…?” “No, it wasn’t a dad joke,” Chilchuck sighs, leaving you to your devices again. “Just don’t do anything stupid when no one’s watching.” He hopes even as you giggle and confirm, you won’t notice the bright blush blooming on Chilchuck’s cheeks and tips of his ears. How embarrassing…

Senshi

Also winning the dgaf war I fear.

He’d watch you lick some of the rocks you had picked out from your travels while resting.

It comes as no surprise that it then crosses his mind if the flavour changes when cooked, which he asks if he can do with some of your selection.

You can use your imagination on how Marcille and Chilchuck reacted when told that today’s dinner is … just rocks.

(Laios is disappointed that it isn’t any cool monster rocks.)

One delightful montage later, and ‘tis finished! Since they are for your research, Senshi insists you have the first bite.

Crunch… and oh, such unique flavours!

You gush to Senshi about how this is a major breakthrough in how different minerals react to cooking conditions, and he gives you his observations too.

Honestly, just sort of wholesome bonding!

“Aye, this one cooked easily, while this one took plenty more time.” You nod eagerly as you watch Senshi point to two different stones. “That’s because one is an igneous rock, which is magmatic. The other is a sedimentary rock, which carries different minerals from lakes and oceans. Separation in cooking must have resulted in different reactions! I wonder how different metamorphic rocks would react…” As you mumble to yourself, Senshi happily continues his meal-making, occasionally responding back to you with hums and comments about what else each observed in his experimentation. Even when you had finished up your meal entirely, you thanked Senshi with the widest grin on your face. He couldn’t help but be just a little flattered when you go on to joke that you should bring him home with you so he can help with your research. In return, Senshi listens to you, and hangs on your every word as you explain your findings to him. Even if not too nutritious of a meal, the minerals from the rocks provide some calcium and other such buffs! And well… If he can keep that happiness prolonged with his cooking, then he’s doing a very good job providing for you indeed!

Izutsumi

“Why are you eating rocks? Looks gross.”

Make way for the #1 hater…

Izutsumi refuses to listen to any such rationalities you make about your study or why you lick rocks (even though she’s the one who asked), she’s still finding it icky and weird.

You’d have to fight fire with fire when it comes to her, you’ll question why she does some habits she does in return – such as licking her hand.

She’ll look at you like you’re stupid, before telling you that it’s a way for her to clean herself and notice if there’s anything caught in her fur.

“Ah, so like how I would lick rocks to identify anything embedded in them too!”

…How dare you try to rationalise yourself with her own logic, heathen.

Jail for reader. Jail for 1000 years.

She’s not one to so readily accept other people’s weird quirks, but eventually she has to find that she’ll look stupid if she doesn’t… It’s a bit of a dirty scheme, but it works.

“Come on, Izu, just give it a try! I promise it just tastes like water.” “What kinda water?!” She shoots back. You pause. “W…Water?” This is how the argument between whether or not water has a flavour comes to be. Izutsumi insists that some water tastes icky while others taste nice. You have to explain that this pure water simply doesn’t have a taste. She doesn’t believe you. In fact, Izutsumi makes you give the sedimentary stone another taste before affirming, it just tastes like water. She’s about to grab your shoulders and shake you. What kind of water?! It takes plenty of encouragement and an immediate failsafe orange juice Senshi squeezed out for her to ‘get rid of’ the taste when you get Izutsumi to taste the stone. She still hasn’t forgiven you…

647 notes · View notes