#but Says He’s on ‘Incredibly Shaky Ground’

[girlz4jaem]

OUR PATHS | 11. dubs in the chat (wc: 1k) cw: mentions of cheating

JAEMIN arrived at your room within five minutes of your request, carrying a handful of your favorite snacks and the little comfort items he’d used with you the last time a storm had kept you up. as he took off his slippers, settled in, and began prepping a quick late-night meal using the dinky hotel kettle, you couldn’t help but feel your heart melt the tiniest bit. not only had he taken you up on your offer to come by, but he’d also remembered exactly what you needed on nights like this.

you both ate the instant ramen he brought over, the two of you sitting on the edge of your bed. the silence between you felt heavy, like there were words piling up but no clear path forward. yet, the ramen was almost too good for midnight, and in its own way, it helped ease the tension. it was hard to admit, even to yourself, but this was exactly what you needed. his quiet, steady presence and his little gestures of thoughtfulness, even after all this time, still made a difference.

after a few moments, you noticed jaemin watching you as you finished your last bites, a pensive look in his eyes. suddenly, he spoke, his voice almost catching, as if the words were slipping out against his own will. “i’m sorry. and i’m sorry it took me so long to say it.”

your eyes widened slightly, not expecting the conversation to start like this—or even tonight at all. you tried to brush it off, hoping to avoid the inevitable heartache that you knew this talk would bring. “is this what you’ve been meaning to say the past few days? you already apologized, no?”

jaemin shook his head softly, his gaze still fixed on you. “y/n, you know that’s different... why do you keep trying to push me away?”

you took a deep breath, focusing on the ground, summoning the strength to finally open this door back up. “you really broke my heart, do you know that?”

his voice was quiet but determined. “let me be the one to put it back together, y/n, please. i really am sorry for everything. i’m sorry i didn’t get to show you how much you meant to me when i had the chance.”

a beat of silence passed, and you took a shaky breath. “do you even want to tell me why you left? because you never did. you left without saying goodbye, and that fucking sucked. i wish you would’ve at least broken up with me in person.”

jaemin’s shoulders tensed as he processed your words, his face contorted with regret. “i know. and, god, i am incredibly sorry. i know this is all still confusing and frustrating for you, but you have to know i never stopped loving you. i still love you. i just... i needed to figure things out about myself.” he paused, as if bracing himself, then continued. “a couple of days before i sent that text, i ran into my ex on a work trip.” he laughed bitterly. “it seems like I’m always running into my exes…”

he continued on,”i don’t know if you remember, because i barely mentioned her when we were together, but we were together for a long time, and she cheated on me. our relationship was messy and toxic, and she left me with a lot of trust issues and self-doubt.”

jaemin’s voice faltered briefly, but he continued. “when i saw her, i found out she’d actually signed up for the work event on purpose, just to give me ‘closure.’ but instead of helping, it brought back everything. it was like i was reliving all of it—how we ended, how messed up that relationship was. it made me realize that i hadn’t really dealt with any of it, and that i’d brought all that baggage into what we had. i needed to work through it, but i thought that would hurt you more than just ending it.”

he looked up at you, his eyes pleading. “how could i love you properly if i hated myself so much?”

your voice was barely a whisper. “but why didn’t you just tell me all of that, jaemin? i didn’t want perfect. i wanted you.”

“i know,” he replied, the weight of his guilt clear in his expression. “i shouldn’t have just left without even attempting to have a conversation. but after what she put me through, i didn’t want to put you through the same thing. i didn’t want you to feel like you had to deal with my issues for me. and, knowing you… you would’ve done just that. you would’ve sacrificed your needs and happiness for me, and i’d been in that exact position before. it always ends badly.”

the room fell silent as his words hung in the air. finally, jaemin continued, his voice softer. “i regretted it as soon as i sent that message, though. i tried to reach out, to fix things, but you blocked me on everything. i even tried to see you in person, but… ryujin told me to stay away.”

you let out a small, humorless laugh, shaking your head. “oh god… ryujin… of course.”

he hesitated on his next words, but ultimately pushed through it. “i know it’s not enough to make up for what i did. i know it’s not going to change how much i hurt you. but i need you to know that i really am here, and i’ll do whatever it takes to earn your trust again.”

your eyes locked onto his, the vulnerability in them matching your own. “you hurt me, jaemin. and i don’t know how long it’s going to take for me to get past that.”

he nodded, his gaze dropping. “i get it. and if you want me to back off, i will. but if there’s even a small part of you that wants to give this another try, then… let me prove that i’ve changed.”

after a long moment, you finally whispered, “i’ll forgive you, jaemin.” you lowered your voice even more, “i-i still love you too.” jaemin perked up at that note. “but i need you to really show me that you mean it. prove to me that you love me the way you say you do.”

his eyes softened with a glimmer of hope. “i will. whatever it takes.”

the storm outside continued, but somehow, you felt a little more grounded.

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NOTES | omfg sorry friends i've been so busy but mayhaps this hella long and long awaited chapter is worth it!!!! TAGLIST (open!) | @polarisjisung @tommina @luvv4bby @222low @luluvhs @spideykeyring @dudekiss3r @sunghoonsgfreal @jeonghansshitester @injunnie-lemon @eternallyhyucks @njmluvr @n0hyuck @junviadinho @hyunnies-world @hahaechans @p4tyaraujo @baeseungcheolie @untilthesunrises @lotties-readings @mango-bear @angelicaleex @jungaji @luvvhaechan @lionzyon @y4wnjunz @luvandletter @applejaem @pikibell @keeryverse @botchedbrat @mystverse @t-102 @skzfairies @andyprkmyluv @gomdoleemyson

bold = couldn't tag

[screampied]

“. . do you . . know what happens after death, sweetheart?”

the words that slipped out of nanami’s lips struck you right in the very depths of your heart.

it stung—a sharp prod that made the very crevices of your mouth twitch. his hands, his once warm and loving hands started to grow abnormally cold. frigid to where you even started to adapt to his chilled temperature.

“no why….” you started, feeling your throat tighten. “why are you asking me that, kento?” you sniffle, tightly interlocking your fingers with his.

he stares at you with a warm smile spreading across his lips.

regardless of his current position, peacefully resting his back against the ground—his inevitable fate had finally caught up to him.

nanami’s breathing patterns changed significantly. everything was so loud, all he could make out through his peripherals was splotches of blur and your pretty worried face. “. . because,” he continues, and his speech was so slow. you could tell he was trying to get every word out, every syllable, every vowel. just for you and only you. “i’m about to find out, my love . .”

your irises focused on him. nothing else, no one else—just him.

you’ve never seen him like this. so pale, so weak, so . . . scared.

his pure emotion, it showed in his eyes. his perfect brown eyes that you never failed to get lost in. for the first time in what was probably forever, nanami felt…scared. he tried his best to conceal it in front of you though. but even his best wasn’t enough, because you probably knew him better than you knew yourself.

“don’t say things like that, kento,” you mutter, already feeling that annoying plump knot rise up in your throat. your breath was shaky, tremble after tremble. “you’re fine. you can get up. we can get up.”

he knew when you said we, you implied that you’d both be walking away together — hand in hand, like in those stupid cheesy movies you’d watch with him every sunday after he gets off work. but alas, reality was quite harsh to face. an even more incredible tough pill to swallow. nanami knew he wasn’t going anywhere.

it was irksome, you had to squeeze your eyes shut to prevent a single tear to roll down your cheek.

nanami’s eyelids were hanging on by a thread, just barely open. he was trying—trying so hard to hang on, a small pout curls against his lips before he huffs out a single breath.

“ah . . forgive me, you’re right,” he says, his thumb swiftly stroking the front of your hand. a single tear escapes past your lower damp eyelid. even his voice sounded different. a voice you grew to love, so sweet and protective. it now sounded incredibly tired. you could hear a slight wheeze between breaths of his. “hey, don’t cry. don’t do that, look at me.”

his voice was so soft, you sniffled—despising the irritating tears that started to run down both sides of your temples. if it was anything nanami couldn’t stand, it was that he couldn’t stand to see the love of his life shed such sweet pitiful tears for him.

you looked at him, watching his eyelids struggle to stay open for you. everything ached, his body didn’t even feel like his own anymore. it was an indescribable feeling from when he got struck, laying against the slick cold floor of the shibuya train station.

“. . d-don’t leave me,” was all you managed to say, your lips was trembling, your heart pounded and you didn’t wanna say goodbye just yet. “kento, i need you.”

“hm? what are you mumblin’ about, sweetheart? ‘m right here.” his voice, it sounded happier.

you furrowed your eyebrows, now finding yourself buried into nanami’s bare chest, damp chin pressing against his pecs and all.

you were here safe and sound, snuggled up all against him, as you should be. it took you a long while to calm down, he’s staring at you with a soft loving gaze—a brief look of concern before you mumble out a, “..kento? are you okay?”

“why wouldn’t i be, baby?” nanami hums, a soft thumb stroking your back. with a relaxed breath, he leans in to plant a gentle kiss near the very tip of your forehead. his touch was forevermore soothing, a touch you never wanted to forget.

you let off a jittery sigh of relief, finally coming to the conclusion that it was another one of your horrid nightmares. you had nothing to worry about.

he was fine.

you were fine,

everything was fine.

. . is what you kept telling yourself.

nanami never told you those words, he didn’t kiss the tip of your forehead or stroke your back lovingly whilst staring into your eyes. the only true unbearable truth was that nanami was gone.

he was gone, and his last words weren’t even “i love you,” or “i’m sorry.” on his fatal dying breaths, nanami’s last words to you while squeezing your hand, sliding a ring into your palm, he rasps out a breathy, “will . . you marry me?”

but before you could tell him yes, he was already gone.

[pucksandpower]

Make Them Proud

Charles Leclerc x Bianchi!Reader

Summary: Charles can’t help but thinking of those he lost after finally claiming victory at his home race

The sheets are tangled around your legs as you trace lazy patterns across Charles’ bare chest. His breathing is deep and steady, but you can tell from the crinkle between his eyebrows that his mind is racing. A small smile plays across your lips as you watch the moonlight cast shadows along the contours of his face.

“You want to say something,” you murmur, your fingers tracing the line of his jaw. “I can tell.”

Charles opens his eyes slowly, blinking a few times before focusing on you. A tender expression softens his features as he gazes at you.

“How did you know?” He asks, his voice low and rumbly from sleep.

You shrug one shoulder. “Call it a girlfriend’s intuition.”

He chuckles softly, reaching up to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear. “I should know better than to try and hide anything from you.”

Propping yourself up on one elbow, you raise an inquisitive eyebrow. “Well? What’s on your mind, mister race winner?”

A myriad of emotions flicker across Charles’ face — pride, awe, a hint of melancholy. He worries his lower lip between his teeth for a moment before speaking.

“I was just thinking about Jules. And Papa,” he admits quietly. “Wondering if … if I made them proud today.”

The vulnerability in his voice causes a lump to form in your throat. You reach out, cupping his cheek in your palm as his eyes shine with unshed tears.

“Charles ...” you breathe out his name like a prayer. “Of course you made them proud. How could you even doubt that?”

He lets out a shaky exhale, leaning into your touch. “I know, I just … it means so much to me, you know? Racing for them, honoring their memories.”

Nodding slowly, you shift until you’re lying with your head on his chest, the steady thump of his heartbeat grounding you.

“They know that, mon cœur,” you soothe. “They know how much today meant to you, how hard you’ve worked, how much you’ve sacrificed. They’re so incredibly proud of the man you’ve become.”

Charles wraps his arms tightly around you, burying his face in your hair. You can feel the tension slowly melting from his body as he draws strength from your embrace.

“You’re right,” he finally mumbles against your temple. “I know you’re right. It’s just … sometimes the pressure feels so immense, you know? Like the weight of their legacies is on my shoulders.”

Pulling back, you frame his face with your hands, forcing him to meet your earnest gaze.

“Charles Leclerc, you listen to me,” you state firmly. “Jules and Hervé loved you so much, their pride in you had nothing to do with racing. They adored you for the incredible man you have always been — your kindness, your passion, your heart.”

You lean in, resting your forehead against his as you choose your next words carefully.

“While I know they would be honored that you race for them, carrying on their legacies … I also know they’d want you to race for yourself. For the pure love of the sport that burns within you.”

Charles’ breath hitches, his eyes glistening with fresh tears. You smooth the pad of your thumb along his cheekbone, willing him to understand the depth of your conviction.

“You don’t have to prove anything to them, mon amour. Just being your amazing self is enough to make them proud every single day.”

A tremulous smile curves Charles’ lips as the tears finally spill over, tracking glistening paths down his cheeks. He surges forward, capturing your lips in a searing kiss filled with every ounce of love, gratitude and adoration he feels for you in that moment. You melt into him, tangling your fingers in his hair as you return the kiss with fervent passion.

When you finally break apart, breathless and giddy, Charles gazes at you with an expression of pure wonder.

“How did I get so lucky?” He murmurs reverently. “To have someone like you in my life, who understands me so completely?”

You let out a teasing laugh, booping his nose lightly with your fingertip. “Years of practice, Leclerc. Years of practice.”

Chuckling, he pulls you back against his chest, pressing a lingering kiss to the top of your head. You snuggle impossibly closer, relishing in the heat of his embrace.

“Thank you,” he whispers, his voice thick with emotion. “For everything. For being my rock, my voice of reason … my home.”

You press a soft kiss over his wildly beating heart in acknowledgment. No words are needed — you both understand the depths of your connection, the invisible cord that binds your souls together.

As you lay there, tangled in his arms while the first rays of dawn creep through the curtains, you can’t help but feel an overwhelming sense of peace and contentment. The roar of the crowds, the scream of the engines, the flashing lights of the cameras — it all fades into blessed silence.

In this moment, cocooned in your own private world, there is only Charles. Your brave, sensitive, extraordinary Charles. And he is yours, just as you are utterly and completely his.

Tomorrow, the whirlwind will begin again. But tonight … tonight is just for the two of you. Two hearts, bound by the most precious and unbreakable of ties — love.

[jarofstyles]

Could you do one about overstimulating him, like after he’s come you just continue riding him and hes all squirmy and moaning

Is the sky blue? Yes we can 🤭🤭🤭 here’s a little nerdrry

Check out our Patreon

Warnings- overstim, smut, subrry-ish, daddy kink (what a mix), cum play, unprotected sex, completely desperate H

——-

“Fuck- fuck, baby, please…” sweat glued strands of hair to his forehead as Y/N continued to grind in his cock. “Please, I dunno if I can go again so soon.” His mouth was dry and his stomach clenching as the wet confines of her cunt kept his snug inside of her. His glasses falling down his nose, he felt her push them back up as his head tilted against the back of the couch.

His hands gripped her hips, unsure if he wanted to actually stop. It felt so good, so overwhelming as his cum dribbled out of her and down his balls. The blanket they had under them would be ruined, the slushy sound of her lifting up and down shallowly and the hit of her ass against his thighs made his eyes blurry. He knew what to say to get her to stop, if it was really too much, but it felt so delicious that his toes curled and his cock twitched inside of her.

“I’m not done.” She pouted, eyes peering down at him. “God, it feels so good. Got your big cock all the way in my tummy, H. It’s not fair.” One hand kept her upright on him whilst the other pushed his hair back, observing how pretty he was. Such broad shoulders, his button up half undone and skewed to the side. His hair that he kept mostly tamed, a complete mess from her hands. Seeing him so utterly undone by her own hands, her own cunt? She’d never felt better in her life. “Do you really want me to stop? Because I will, baby…”

Harry could feel her grinding on him with each drop down onto his prick. He was aching from it, his thighs tingling but it was too incredible to stop. Digging his fingers into her hips he shook his head, a little whine leaving his throat as his cock twitched pathetically inside of her.

“N-No, baby. No. Don’t stop. It’s jus’ so much.” He slurred, eyes holding as she tilted his head back. “I can’t- it feels amazing n’ I want more, but I feel like M’gonna explode. Baby…. Fuck, you’re so perfect n’amazing and I’ve never-“ he let out a shaky gasp as she bounced harder on his cock. He could feel how wet it was, what a mess they were making. His trousers a heap around his ankles and the taste of the her engrained on his tongue, there hadn’t been much experience before her but he knew he didn’t want anything after her. It was her or nothing. No one else could feel this good. “Baby, angel, my love- oh my god.” He shuddered, the squelch of their sex was loud, her pussy sopping wet with her arousal and the last load he’d given her.

“What, H?” She cooed, panting from the exertion. Seeing him wrecked under her was worth ruining every bit of makeup on her face, the burn her thighs would feel tomorrow, every bit. “You want to cum again? Love my pussy enough to give me another load? You can do it.” The encouragement had his eyes rolling back and her poor used pussy clenching around him. “Tell me, handsome. Fuck into me.” Grabbing his glasses off his face, she tossed them to the other side of the sofa and tugged his hair back with a sharp grip. “Give it to me, Daddy.”

One thing Harry was good at was listening to her. As weak as he felt, he held her hips and let her forehead fall to his own, breathing against her lips. Using his feet on the ground, he began to fuck up into her. It was sloppy and rough, whimpers leaving his mouth as his face contorted in pleasure. “Oh, my love- I can’t…” he gasped into her mouth. Even with her in charge, the nickname had his balls aching. “Fuck me. Please don’t stop, M’gonna cum again and I’m gonna make a mess and I want you to feel good, please baby- I love you, I love this pussy, I wanna cum in it again. Im gonna, please say you want it. Tell me to cum, I’ll give you anything you want.” The smack of skin increased, Y/N’s wet gasp from his cock pummeling up into her making her eyes widen. Harry really would give her anything, the sweet boy. He was all hers, and she wouldn’t be letting go.

[stonerfromlesbos]

✦ all mine. | billie eilish

✦ warnings: strap usage (r!receving), breeding kink, cheating (r! has a boyfriend), !fuckboy billie, hair pulling, rough sex, !brat reader, !brat tamer billie, choking, spanking…

✦ summary: you had an new cute bf, he was awesome… but what you could do when you’re horny and all you can think about is how you miss the roughness of your ex fling?

✦ heavily inspired by ‘if you’re gonna lie, do it in my bed’ by @drunkinyourbenz

it was known that billie was no good for you, all your friends hated her… but you couldn’t help but come back everytime. she was a bitch? yes, but she fucked you like no one else.

you would always come back to her, until she started lying, you fucking hated it. she could fuck millions of girls, but you would rather hear the truth then her bullshit lies. what she thought of you? she’s really that sure that you will believe that shit? that you are that dumb?

well, you got tired of it, and you moved on. you’re dating an awesome man, who would always put you in first place and treated you like an princess… too much to be honest.

you would touch yourself remembering all the things billie used to do with you, the way she fucked you like you were her fucking toy, she was the type of rough you always needed. her voice calling you an ‘needy slut’ would soak your underwear by itself.

he was incredible, but not the way you needed him to be. he was always afraid of hurting you, literally the opposite of billie. she would spank you for hours just to slam her fake cock on your walls after.

you didn’t wanted to admit how much you missed her, and how you missed the way she fucked you.

your boyfriend wasn’t in your apartment tonight and it was 10pm, so you decided to stalk billie’s snapchat because why not? well, you were seeing each story until you saw one picture of her in the mirror.. she was wearing an tank top and some baggy jeans, you could clearly see the bulge of her strap in her pants. you clicked accidentally in ‘reply’

your heart started racing as you dropped your phone with your shaky hands… when you grabbed it off the ground you stare the message on your screen ‘reply sent.’

you tried to delete it because you literally texted her ‘w 29:!2@’

but she had seen it, maybe she was staring at her chats? because it was damn too fast. You could feel your heart racing as she started typing…

“stalkin’ me, huh? ru missing me babe?”

you could see her damn cocky smirk across the screen, you were truly fucked.

“no, i have a boyfriend, stop that.”

she had seen your message, after more than 15 minutes you stopped waiting for a reply, until she sent you a video.

she had recorded a tiktok with the same outfit she was wearing in the picture, but now showing her face… and what a fucking beautiful face.

you started to pay attention to the lyrics of the song she was lip syncing and it made you blush heavily.

“You like the way I fuck 'cause I get rough”

“You told me your new man don't make you nut”

“that's a damn shame.”

“You come here, I'll knock your pussy out the damn frame”

“come over.” thats all you could type, she quickly replied “omw.”

you could help but feel guilty for your poor boyfriend, but you needed to fuck, needed to fuck with someone who knew how to fuck you.

You heard her knocking on your door, as you quickly rush to open it for her. You were wearing an baby tee that you knew she loved, with some baggy sweatpants. you opened the door for her, eyeing her up and down.

“hey” she says entering your apartment, and looking at the new things you and your boyfriend had bought.

“hi…” you speak almost quietly as she turns around to stare at you with her hungry blue eyes.

“i still don’t get why you ghosted me just to call me back months after.” she says in a cocky tone, smirking as she stared at you.

“because you’re a fuckin’ liar, i hate that” her gaze on you was more than intense, as she softly giggled.

“you really do? why you asked me to come over then?” she said smirking and getting closer to you.

“to fuck me, thats all you can do apparently.” you say with a raspy tone, slightly teasing her but keeping your composure.

“are you sure? because i think all you can do is beg for me to fuck you… don’t you feel bad about your boyfriend?” she says with the same smirk in her face

“wow, you’re still the same bitch.” you start to lose control, trying to not think about your boyfriend.

“and you’re still the same needy slut.” she said with her smirk even bigger this time, you just grab her arm and lead her to your bedroom, tired of her bullshit

“shut the fuck up and do what you came here to do.” you say closing your bedroom door as she justs stares at you

“who tf you think you’re talkin’ to?” she always got pissed off when you told her to shut up, and you knew that damn well.

“should i be scared of you? you’re pathetic billie, you came to my house in less then 5 minutes after i ghosted you for months and im the needy slut?” you say with an cocky smirk on your face, giggling sarcastically

“stop actin’ like a fuckin’ brat.” she says taking a deep breath, she loved when you teased her, it just gave her an excuse to destroy you even more.

“or what?” you tease her more, wanting her to lose control and do what she does best, you could feel her getting closer to you and grabbing your neck with one hand while she stared at you with her half lided blue eyes, it honestly made your body shiver.

“shut the fuck up or i will make sure your cute boyfriend sees all the bruises im gonna let on you.” she wasn’t smirking anymore, she was being so fucking serious, you couldn’t help but do what she deeply wanted you to do.

“bet you can’t do that even if you wanted to.” as you says that billie’s eyes darkened, she slapped your face as her other hand was squeezing your neck even tighter. searching permission in your face, as you smirked and made her even more excited to ruin you.

“stop being a fuckin’ brat. on the bed, now.” she says letting go of your neck as you obediently sit on the corner of the bed. as she got in front of you, and you unbuckled her belt seeing the bulge of her strap as she stared at you. your eyes widened in fear as her pants were on the ground, it was an new one, much bigger than the one she had before.

“are you scared now babydoll?” she says chuckling with the same smirk on her face

“billie im not used to this big...” you said pathetically looking up at her with your dolly big eyes, knowing that after what you did, she would make sure to pound the shit out of you.

“you’re going to fuckin’ take what i give you, understand?” she says looking down at you. she lowered herself to grab an little pot with an white substance in it, quickly she holded her on strap putting it inside a hole on the tip of her cock… you quickly realized that it wasn’t an normal strap, it was the kind of that could cum.

“gon’ make such a mess of that pretty face of yours.” she says grabbing your hands and making an messy ponytail with her own hands, your hands started to go up to her hips as you looked at her with your puppy eyes.

“open up for me baby.. good girl” she says as you open your mouth for her faux cock. she starts quickly to pound your throat as your both hands are on her hips, trying to push her away as you just gag on it.

“fuckin’ take it, i dont care if its too big.” her pace even speeds as you’re almost throwing up, she slow down, letting you do the job instead.. she was gently caressing your hair as you were sucking her cock… she suddenly take it out your mouth, you just stare at her with an confused face.

“put your tongue out and look at me.” she says grabbing her faux cock and pressing an little button on the bottom of the strap.. quickly her strap started to gush loads of cum on your face, you couldn’t help but smile still with your tongue out, staring deeply at her eyes.

“such a slut, do you enjoy having my cum all over you huh?” you nod your head as she gaves you another slap on the cheek “swallow it and answer me.” you quickly swallow all of her liquid that was on your mouth.

“i do..” you look up at her, wiping the sticky liquid off your face with your own mattress getting up from the corner of the bed as she looks at you confused. you took her belt that was on the floor, with it on your hands you go towards her again.

“what you’re doing?” she says with an smirk as her hands go down on both of your sides grabbing your hips tightly, pulling you closer to her.

“let me have some fun rn, okay?” you say grabbing both of her wrists, tying it up on her back as you pushed her to lay on the bed.

“god i missed you so much.” billie says as you start striping your clothes off, you were left only in panties as you crawl towards her, straddling her sides and feeling the pressure of her strap against your clothed dripping clothed cunt.

“i missed you more.” you say starting to grind on her cock, rubbing it against your throbbing clit.

“fuckin’ sit on it.” she demands but you laugh on her face.

“needy are we?” you say in a mocking tone, you knew she was fucking pissed with you and it was a damn privilege that she let you take control for even an minute after all you said. billie was experienced in this, and she untied herself with no effort.

“i was going to let you fuckin’ ride me, but you need to be a brat all the time… so you will be fucked like a brat.” she switched your places quickly, she got off the bed adjusting her strap.

“face down, ass up.” that was her favorite position, and you fucking loved it too. you quickly obey her, grabbing the sheets in antecipation.

“what an fucking pathetic slut, minutes ago you were teasing me now you’re afraid?” she giggles mocking you as billie put your underwear to the side, slamming her cock inside of you without any warning, you were left with your mouth open and your eyes rolling back as she started to pound your poor pussy.

your face is buried in the sheets by now, as your moans turns almost into screams of pleasure. she pounded you roughly as she played with your clit… and with the other hand, she would spank the shit out of your ass.

“can’t tease me now, huh? pathetic slut.”

she said as the hand who was smacking your ass goes up to grab a fistful of hair, pulling your head back.

“fucking tell me what you’re.” her pace speeded up even more, she wanted to make even more hard to you to answer.

“i-im’ a pa- mhm.. pathetic s-slut mh~” her hand goes down to your neck as she starts to pound you even deeper, her fingers on your chin as you try to suck in it, but you couldn’t let your mouth closed when she was fucking you that good.

you were getting close, and she could feel your walls tightening around her cock.

“cum.” she says with an raspy demanding voice, as you reached the edge. your legs were shaking as she pounded you in a slow pace, letting you ride through your orgasm.

“lay on the bed babe.” she says with an more soft voice, contrasting with the way she was treating you before. you lay on the bed with your stomach up as she climbs on top of you, putting your leg on her shoulder.. and after that you knew that this night was going to be long. she was going deep and slow low, taking her time to hit your g spot.

“gonna’ cum inside of you and make you a fuckin’ mama.” she says looking deeply at your eyes as you push her into an kiss, the kiss was needy and slow. while her tongue was exploring your mouth, her pace speeded up making you moan in the middle of the kiss.

“mhm fuckin’ f-fill me up… p-please.” it was all she needed to hear, she pounded into you roughly and deep, as one of her hands were on your neck, choking you.

she quickly decided to give some attention to your poor tits, billie sucked on your nipples while she was still pounding your pussy.

“gonna fill you up until your tits spill milk, mamas’” she says getting breathless, pouding you in an pace that you thought was impossible to achieve.

“bet your boyfriend can’t get you like this mamas’… gonna fuckin’ steal you from him and make you my baby mama.” she says looking at your eyes and seeing them rolling back as she continues to hit your g spot with no mercy.

“u’ close mamas?” she asked you grabbing your tits and pounding you even faster.

“mh- c-c-close mhm~” you couldn’t even think, she was fucking your brains out.

“you get so dumb on my cock” she said smirking as your walls tightened against her faux cock, her pace slowed down as you rided though your orgasm.

her hand gone down your tits to her own strap, pressing the same button before. and quickly gushing her cum inside of you, she pounded on you a few more times before pulling it out. billie took a moment to stare at your cunt dripping her cum from inside, she smirked proudly.

“you’re so pretty when i fuck your brains out of u.” she says caressing your left cheek and laying on your side on the bed.

you instantly lay on her chest waiting for her to wrap her arms around you.. but she doesn’t do that, she gets off the bed instead. you stared at her with confusion.

“break up with him and after that we can cuddle.” she says taking her pants and belt, putting it on again as she brushes her hair with her fingers, she puts her shoes on and starts to make her way out your room.

“if he asks about all these bruises, tell him who fuck you like you deserve.” she winked at you smirking cockily as she leaves your bedroom, making her way out your apartment. you quickly realized that you were literally all bruised.

“fuck.”

HOPE YALL LIKE THIS..

yes i couldn’t decide and did both of them

[makoodles]

ミ the mightiest

part one | part two

🍓 pairing: neteyam x human fem reader

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

masterlist

reblogs are always enormously appreciated!

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

It was just a fluke, you tell yourself. A moment of weirdness that had come about because… because…

Okay, so you can’t really explain it.

You don’t like Neteyam! You never have! The sight of him appearing while you’re mid-rendezvous with Txetyo (the same man he had interrupted you with only a few days before!) should have sent you into an angry tailspin. And yet, you can’t forget the pulse of excitement that had throbbed low in your belly when you realised that he was standing there watching you.

Really, you should have been the one to speak up. But it was like your brain had switched off, like all your rational thoughts had gone on a temporary leave of absence; why else would you have stayed silent instead of stopping Txetyo and drawing attention to Neteyam’s presence?

Just like after your last confusing encounter with Neteyam in the healing hut, you end up sticking close to the human outpost for the next week.

It’s probably a little cowardly to hide instead of facing your problems head on, but you don’t care. You avoid Neteyam, you avoid Txetyo, you avoid any of the guys you’ve had flings with before because even the sight of them reminds you of what had happened that night in the forest. Inevitably, that leads to you avoiding the village entirely.

The outpost is as boring as ever, but it’s better than facing the mortification that’s no doubt awaiting you in the village. But at the very least, it’s not lonely.

Spider is kind enough to keep you company in the outpost for the first few days, though you quickly wish he wouldn’t. There’s not much to do, and Spider never deals well with boredom.

“Quit that.” You grit out, your eyes sliding sideways.

Spider is sitting next to you, drumming his fingers insistently on his thighs. He sighs, rolling his eyes up towards the ceiling and leaning back on the lumpy couch you’re both sprawled on.

“This is mind-numbing.” He complains, throwing his dirty bare feet over your thighs. “It’s so boring here. I don’t think I’ve ever spent this much time inside in my whole life.”

“You don’t have to be here.” You remind him, shoving his feet off you.

Spider sighs, swinging his legs back to the ground so he can sit up properly. “Right, sure. I could leave you here alone to mope all day by yourself in your dank little bedroom. Or you could tell me what’s going on with you.”

You grumble, and avert your eyes. Okay, so maybe your avoidance has been a little more obvious than you had intended. You’ve barely missed a day in the village your whole life, and yet in the last two weeks you’ve spent most of your time hiding out in the outpost.

“Nothing’s going on.” You say, and it rings hollow even to your own ears.

Spider purses his lips. He seems pointedly unconvinced, and stretches back on the couch with his arms across the back of the headrest.

“So it has nothing to do with whatever the hell happened when you went off with Txetyo during the hunt celebrations?”

You almost wince, but manage to keep your expression neutral as you stare at your knees. “Nope.”

Spider hums. “And I suppose the fact that Neteyam very conspicuously disappeared into the forest about ten seconds after you left is also unrelated.”

That cracks your composure, and you take a shaky breath as you glance sideways at Spider’s face. He doesn’t look like he’s judging you or anything; he’s just waiting patiently for your answer, a single eyebrow raised.

“I don’t wanna talk about it.” You mutter, avoiding his eyes.

There’s a long pause, and then Spider huffs out a sigh and tilts his head back to stare at the water-stained ceiling up above you. You feel a little bad about keeping secrets from him; usually you and Spider act as each other’s confidants by virtue of the fact that the two of you are humans the same age amongst all the Na’vi. But this whole mess with Neteyam is something that you’re struggling to wrap your own head around – you don’t want to start explaining the whole mortifying ordeal to someone who was as good as your brother.

“Lo’ak’ll get it out of you.” Spider says confidently.

You groan, covering your face with your hands. “Please tell me he’s not coming over.”

“He’s worried.” Spider protests. “You’ve been acting super weird, dude.”

“He’s nosey.” You correct.

Spider shrugs, unable to argue that point. “Well, whatever.”

It’s as if speaking his name summons him, because the shoddy linoleum floor creaks behind you as a big nine-feet-tall body steps into the room. You catch a glimpse of bright blue skin out of the corner of your eye and groan, tipping your head back against the back of the couch and closing your eyes.

“Seriously, I am not in the mood to be interrogated by the Idiot Brigade today.” You complain. “Can’t you come back and bother me another time?”

There’s a pause. And then, a low voice filled with amusement says, “Am I a member of this “idiot brigade?”

That is not Lo’ak’s voice.

For a moment, you don’t even turn around. You just breathe slowly, your eyes shut tight. Maybe if you don’t turn and look, Neteyam will just vanish from your presence as if he had never spoken at all.

But instead of Neteyam’s spontaneous disappearance, you get Spider shifting on the lumpy couch beside you before climbing to his feet. Your eyes shoot open at that, and your head whips around to stare at him in disbelief.

“Where are you going?” You hiss, already reaching out after him.

Spider stops, hesitates, his eyes flicking between you and Neteyam. He looks as though he would rather be literally anywhere other than here; you know the feeling.

“Uh… I’m gonna go find Lo’ak.” Spider mutters, his eyes darting around cagily. “Seems like you two probably need time to talk some things out.”

Before you can even protest that, Neteyam is stepping forward, marching his way around the couch. You sit up, properly startled now, realising that your window for escape is rapidly narrowing.

“Tell Lo’ak not to come.” Neteyam says simply, stepping nimbly around the couch so that he’s in front of you. It’s like he knows that you were thinking of an escape, because he tilts his head as a subtle smile tugs at his mouth.

“Yeah. Got it.” Spider sounds a little strangled, sending you a look that you can’t quite decipher before turning and scampering out the door, letting it slide shut behind him with a quiet thud.

You stare at him for a long moment, your mouth hanging open like a moron. Neteyam just stares back, his expression even, as though he’s waiting for you to speak first.

You swallow thickly, then push yourself up so that you’re standing. It’s a weak attempt to put yourself on a more even level with him, but it fails as you find yourself eye-level with his damn belly button.

“What are you doing here?” You snap, though it comes out a little weaker than you had intended.

Neteyam doesn’t answer immediately. Instead he gingerly lowers himself down onto the ancient lumpy couch that you and Spider had commandeered for yourselves from the desolate wreckage of Bridgehead. He’s almost comically large for it, his knees bent awkwardly up as he settles back, the springs creaking ominously.

“You have been avoiding the village.” He says simply.

And… oh god, you can’t stop staring. It’s stupid, because you’ve known Neteyam your whole life, you know what he looks like. But it’s like your eyes are taking him in differently now. You hadn’t spent much time with him as kids; you were always chasing after Lo’ak, Kiri, and Spider, and Neteyam usually maintained a distance as he trained under the guidance of his parents. And then he was gone, departed for the reef villages, only to return after the worst of the war years had passed.

But it’s different now. He’s a man, his shoulders broader than ever and his muscles more defined than is typical of the Omaticaya warriors – no doubt thanks to his time in the reefs with the bulkier Metkayina.

Your mouth is a little dry; it’s not a good time to be reminded that you find big, muscly Na’vi men really, really attractive.

“Yeah.” You say, your voice scratchy. “Uh… I’ve been busy.”

Neteyam’s hairless brow raises in an unspoken gesture of doubt as he leans back into the couch. Your eyes dart down nervously over his abdomen. Each sculpted abdominal muscle speaks of his physical prowess and the sheer discipline and dedication to his training, and his slim waist is accentuated by the woven battle band around his waist. Fuck, you want to touch his belly.

You can hardly believe that you had this man’s cock in your hand, or that he had been grunting and fucking your fist. Maybe you had hallucinated that. Looking at him like this, taking in his big amber eyes and strong jawline and high cheekbones, you’re reminded rather harshly of just why he’s one of the most sought-after men in the village by the unmated Omaticaya girls. It seems unlikely that he’d ever lower himself to allow himself to be touched by you.

And yet, you know you hadn’t hallucinated him standing only mere feet from you in the forest, watching intently as Txetyo had railed you into the mossy ground.

As if he knows what you’re thinking, Neteyam speaks again. “Avoiding Txetyo? I do not blame you.

You almost choke at that. Good lord, the audacity of this man. He knows perfectly well that you’ve also been trying to avoid him, judging by the smug look on his face.

“No! He- he wasn’t so bad.” You protest, though the words ring unconvincingly in your own ears.

“Tawtute, you’re so tight!” Neteyam gasps mockingly, lowering his voice into a dude-bro register that decidedly does not sound like Txetyo. “Fuck, you’re so wet, I’m gonna cum—"

You squawk, hastily stepping forward to swat ineffectually at his shoulder. “Will you shut up, that’s not what–“

Neteyam grabs at your wrist when you smack his shoulders, his long fingers wrapping all the way around you before tugging. You stagger, pulled off balance as he tugs you onto the couch beside him. You end up with your limbs in an ungainly sprawl as you attempt to collect yourself beside him, flustered behind belief. He doesn’t let go of your wrist.

“And he– he made me finish, so.” You say lamely. You’re sitting next to him. Why are you sitting next to him? You should be trying to shove him up off the couch and shoo him out the door.

“I’m pretty sure you made yourself come.” Neteyam corrects, his head tilting. His glossy braids spill over his shoulders, colourful beads clicking together. “Which wouldn’t have happened if I wasn’t there, by the way.”

“Excuse me?”

“Just pointing out the obvious.” Neteyam’s smug little grin is growing, and he leans in a little closer. “I don’t think you were enjoying it at all until I showed up.”

You gape at him, stunned.

“I- you-!” You stammer, your breath catching from the sheer swell of your indignation. Who does he think he is, showing up here all muscled and gorgeous like this only to embarrass you?

“Speak for yourself!” You finally manage to splutter, trying to sit up on the couch; Neteyam’s grip on your wrist prevents you from going too far, so you give up and resign yourself to being stuck beside him until he grows bored of tormenting you. “Txetyo was– That was pretty much par for the course. I mean– it wasn’t unusual, sometimes that’s just how sex goes–“

Neteyam sits up straight, so suddenly that it startles you. His brow is furrowed, his eyes flicking rapidly over your face as though he’s trying to assess if you’re being honest.

He’s… he’s leaning in rather close to you. You blink at him, but don’t move back. It’s so rare for you to be around Neteyam without your respirator mask acting like a shield over your face, and you feel a little naked now without it.

“That was a standard experience for you?” He asks, and his voice has… changed a little. That smug amusement on his face has vanished, replaced with what looks like bewilderment.

You scoff at his surprise, rolling your eyes. “Shouldn’t you know what my standard experience is? You’ve interrupted enough of them.”

He doesn’t respond to your snarky remark. He just stares at you as if he’s examining you, and you shift awkwardly on the couch, unsure in the face of his scrutiny.

“What, you’re surprised that all men aren’t sex gods?” You ask a little testily. “They want to experiment with a Sky Person, and I like sex with Na’vi men, so… win-win.”

Neteyam just frowns, pulling back a little. “No, that’s not… I don’t understand. Why do you spend time with them if they are not successful in pleasuring you?”

Boy, is that a loaded question. You don’t want to explain to Neteyam that it’s not really about sex, that it’s more about a pathological need for physical connection and comfort, especially when you try your very hardest not to think about it yourself.

“Maybe I’m just hoping one of them will really impress me.” You mumble, a little sourly. “I guess I’ll keep holding out hope.”

Neteyam’s ears flatten, pressing low against his head as his eyes widen a little. He shifts, his body looming over you like a big blue behemoth as the couch springs squeal beneath his weight.

“I could.” He says. “Impress you, I mean.”

You snort, glancing up at him with a wry sort of smile that falls off your face almost immediately when you see the look on Neteyam’s face. His expression is perfectly earnest, his jaw set and his pupils dilated with an odd sort of urgency that you’ve never seen from him. He… he doesn’t look as though he’s making fun of you at all.

“What?” You croak, blinking.

And then you realise what all this about. Neteyam is always so determined to prove himself, to be the best at everything. He’s always pushed himself beyond his limits and worked himself to the bone to be stronger and faster and wiser, to be a better leader and a better hunter and a better fighter. You probably shouldn’t even be surprised that now he’s decided to prove that he’s better than his peers at fucking you, too.

“This is just a competition for you, isn’t it?” You scoff, yanking your wrist out of his hand. He shifts forward on the couch then as though preparing to catch you if you move to run, but you’re not making any move to leave.

“No. They are not worthy competitors.” Neteyam scoffs as if the question is absurd. “This is to prove to you that you have been wasting your time with men who are not capable of pleasing you.”

You scoff again, but it’s a much weaker sound this time. “I–”

“You have bad taste in men, paskalin.” Neteyam murmurs, shuffling closer on the ancient couch.

You stare up at him, your breath catching a little in your chest. God, he’s so much bigger than you. You hate that it’s making your body heat up, and you feel yourself growing wet as he leans in close, smelling like fresh water and the forest.

“Are you going to let me?” Neteyam whispers, reaching out to trace a finger along your jawline. “Let me prove myself.”

You should say no. You should tell him to leave, to get out. You should absolutely not feed into his own ego by fucking him.

“Yes,” You breathe stupidly. “Okay.”

You’re expecting him to grab you immediately and flip you around onto either your back or stomach; in all your previous experiences, you’ve gotten right down to it with your partners. But to your surprise, Neteyam leans in and holds your hips with his big hands as he presses his mouth to yours in a kiss.

Kissing is not something that you’re used to; the Na’vi you’ve hooked up with have stayed clear of the human outpost, unlike the Sully kids who had paid frequent visits, which means that all of your sexual encounters have occurred in the forest or in empty corners in the village with your respirator mask firmly attached to your face.

Now your face feels naked and vulnerable, and you gasp shakily against Neteyam’s mouth when he leans in and kisses you firmly.

It’s slow and deep, at first. All-consuming. It lights a fire in your gut, which expands and spreads throughout your body.

Neteyam doesn’t just kiss with his mouth, either. He kisses with his hands, his whole body. He clutches you to him, holding you close even as the force of his kiss bends you backward, your body pressing into the raggedy couch cushions.

At the same time, it’s all you can do to concentrate and respond to the kiss itself, your attention stretched and strained by the feeling of Neteyam’s hands running over you, stroking your sides and clutching your neck and squeezing your ass.

“Hah,” You gasp out when Neteyam’s lips slide sideways to find the corner of your jaw. His mouth is hot against your skin, bruising, and you’re embarrassingly wet already, just from a little kissing.

Fuck, he’s a good kisser. That’s so annoying.

You run out of breath too fast, and you have to gasp. Neteyam breaks the kiss for barely even a second, and shifts some of his weight to his elbows as he follows you down onto the couch, nuzzling and nipping at your jaw before returning to your mouth.

There’s a hand on either side of your head during that blink-and-you-miss-it break in the kiss, but then he moves his big hands to hold onto your face like they’re afraid you’ll escape, and now they don’t want to let go at all. One of his hands cups your jaw, the other clasping around the back of your neck and tilting your head farther back, deeper into the couch, opening you up. You think about the fact that he can thread his fingers together behind your head with his palms pressed to your cheeks and nearly moan like a whore into his mouth.

Neteyam’s eagerness surprises you. The kiss is messy and graceless and airless and greedy, frantic and full of teeth, and you can only roll your hips in reflex, in mindless desperation, in a feeble attempt to buck, your mind repeating a refrain of yes holy shit holy shit YES. You can’t even squirm, because holy hot fuck Neteyam is heavy, and he’s got every inch of you covered and owned.

God, have you always been this easy? Just kiss you, feel you up a little and want you enough and you’ll end up happily whimpering under someone on the couch? Even someone like Neteyam, who you’ve been so resentful of for so long?

You spread your thighs, and Neteyam’s narrow hips slot into place like a damn puzzle piece. Neteyam hums a small laugh and pauses, pulls back an inch or so, gazing steadily at your lips and smoothing the tips of his thumbs back and forth over your cheekbones. He takes a moment to fumble with his respirator and takes a deep breath before dropping it and leaning down to kiss you again.

“Oh, fuck.” You whimper, your eyes fluttering shut when his hips roll fluidly against you.

You pull back from the kiss, just enough to get a look at his face. His eyes are a little clouded, his lips puffy and spit-slicked. He looks dazed, and there's a thin line of saliva connecting your mouths together. His brow scrunches in a frown, as though you pulling away from him is a personal offence.

Oh god, you think. I'm so fucked.

The hand that had been cupping your cheek releases you, slides down your body as well. Your breath hitches when he passes over your breasts, drags down the plush skin of your belly, before reaching in between your thighs to cup at your pussy over your clothes. His hand tightens, grabbing you. Cunt, pubic bone, the whole shebang, all of it right there in the palm of Neteyam’s shockingly big hand.

“Bedroom.” You gasp, your head spinning as he just holds your cunt over your denim shorts. “Bedroom now.”

Neteyam grins, and wraps his arms around your waist to haul you into his arms before he lifts you off the couch and practically staggers down the hall. His excitement surprises you, and you cling to his neck as he ducks his way through the corridor.

Mercifully the outpost is quiet today, with most of its human occupants out in the forest or in the village – that means there’s no one around the witness the sight of Neteyam’s enormous blue ass squeezing himself in through the small doorway of the closet-like bedroom you’d claimed for yourself, with you dangling from his arms like a doll.

You’re still breathing hard when Neteyam clumsily gets the door shut before placing you on your squeaky old bed, following you down on it. He’s careful not to crush you with the bulk of his body, instead resting his weight on his forearms where they’re planted on either side of your head.

The consideration makes something squirm in your belly, and you reach up to intertwine your fingers at the back of his head and pull him down to resume kissing him.

Neteyam rolls his hips into yours, and you can feel the thick ridge of his erection pressing into the seam of your shorts, right over your clit. The sound you make is absolutely humiliating, and you will deny ever making it until your last breath, but you twitch as you try to catch that exact same friction again.

And fuck, kissing like this may be new to you, but you never want to stop. You didn’t even know that kissing with tongue could feel so erotic; Neteyam’s hands are on your face again, angling you this way and that way and however the fuck Neteyam feels like angling you, and goddamn he must be doing it just because he can.

You try desperately to remember any little kissing tricks you’ve learned and draw a pathetic blank. Luckily, Neteyam seems intent on showing off. His creativity is more than enough to occupy you both, and you’re too busy being excruciatingly horny to really be self-conscious anyway.

Besides, your next exhale is a chest-rattling groan, and if Neteyam’s immediate grunt of approval and slow thirsty grind against your trapped body is any indication, then you're doing just fine by his standards.

But then, to your absolute distress, Neteyam pulls away.

“Hhh — Shit! Shit, hang on. Shit.” Neteyam hisses, turning his face away and levering himself up on his arms. He’s breathing hard, and the sound of the English curse words falling out of his mouth in that strained tone of voice has your thighs squeezing together pathetically.

“What?” You ask, your voice sounding dazed and stupid even to your own ears.

Neteyam huffs out a few centering breaths and then shakes out his head to clear it. He fumbles for the respirator, takes several deep gulps of air before dropping it again. He angles his hips away from you for a moment, breathing steadily.

“Why’d you stop?” You hate the way the words come out as a whine; you feel as though you’re losing your mind, as though you’re actually going to die if he doesn’t keep kissing you.

Neteyam breathes out a quiet laugh, sounding a little disbelieving as he drops his forehead down to rest on your shoulder.

“Fuck.” He whispers, but he doesn’t answer your question. Instead, he pushes himself down your body, sliding between your legs.

When he tugs your shorts, you lift your hips eagerly to help him shuck your pants off. As he’s tugging at your panties, you work on yanking your oversized pyjama shirt off you. It feels as though the two of you are descending into a frenzy, touching and kissing and tearing at each other like animals.

When you’re naked beneath him you shiver, staring up at him in eager anticipation. You wait for him to come back up and kiss you, to take his own loincloth off and stick his cock into you, but he doesn’t. Instead, his head bullies its way in between your thighs.

“No,” You whine, making a face. You don’t want him to waste time with eating you out when you’re ready now. “Just put it in.”

Neteyam shoots you a reproachful look as though he thinks you’re acting crazy. “You said you would let me please you.”

“But–” You frown, feeling a little ridiculous for having this conversation when his big head is blinking up at you from between the pudge of your thighs. “You don’t have to. I don’t enjoy getting head all that much anyway.”

But instead of changing his mind, that just makes him snort as though you’d told a damn joke.

“Let me show you, syulang.” He whispers, turning his head and brushing his lip over the soft skin of your inner thigh. He kisses you there, and then sucks a hickey-like bruise into the squidge there.

And damn, you can’t turn him down.

“Fine.” You sigh, a little irritated, and spread your legs wider so that Neteyam can muscle his way in.

He grins as if he knows something you don’t, grabs your legs and pulls them so your thighs are hanging off his big broad shoulders. You can feel his warm breath ghosting over you between your legs, and you prepare to lie back and let him lick you down there until he deems you’re wet enough to start fucking you properly.

But then he actually gets his mouth on you, and… oh. Oh.

You tilt your head back, staring at the ceiling with wide eyes. That feels… better than you had expected, actually.

Each of Neteyam’s movements are calculated, precise. He laps against your clit, then closes his lips and sucks. You nearly yelp, but manage to tamp down on your reaction and merely wheeze instead. Neteyam points his tongue and presses inside of you, sucks and licks like he’s actually eating something. At one point, he even bites, and you jerk so hard that you accidentally grind against his face.

It’s not like any of the head you have ever received. You’ve enjoyed it before, sure, but it’s never felt like this, and it’s definitely never made you come. And yet, to your honest surprise, you can feel a familiar coil of tension beginning to build deep in your abdomen.

“Oh god.” You breathe, sounding a little bewildered.

You feel his tongue against your clit again, hardly noticing that his hands are gripping at your ass until he yanks you forward as he buries his whole damn face between your legs. His fingers return, delving into you, deep and searching. His mouth works against your clit and it feels like you’re being squeezed between the kinds of pleasure, worshipped and wrung out and attacked all at once.

“Neteyam,” You gasp like a fool. “Oh, what the fuck, it– Neteyam, hang on, it’s too–”

Neteyam is still devouring you, sucking hard and persistent until you cry out. You try to clench your thighs around his head as he laps at you like a man starved, but his hands are still on your thighs, locking you in an iron grip, keeping you spread wide for him, and you can hardly breath because every time you think to try and take a breath his tongue is moving over your clit again and he’s sucking against you.

Your head swims, and you wonder why on earth you had been so resistant to allow him to make you feel good like this. Fuck, have you just been getting really bad head this whole time? You didn’t even know it could feel like this.

Your heels are digging into his back, and the closer he brings you to the edge the harder your thighs clamp around his head. He barely seems to notice the force you’re exerting, merely groaning to himself everytime you squeeze tighter.

Your thoughts splinter and unravel, and you can do nothing but buck uselessly against his hold, desperately chasing more of his lips and his tongue.

“Oh god, oh god, oh god.” You chant, eyes squeezed shut tight as you whine.

He's just so good with his tongue, and you’ve never felt like this in your life. It feels as though you can't breathe properly, as though you’re melting from the inside out. None of those awkward, fumbling sexual encounters with those other Na’vi ever had you feeling like this.

Your breasts are heaving with the effort it takes just to breathe through the white hot pleasure crashing through you, and you stare down at him with wide eyes as he suckles again at your clit. When he sees you looking down at him, he throws you a cheeky wink as he laps at you.

You let out a helpless, gasping laugh at him, your hands clenching compulsively in his braids. Your giggle has him pulling back a little so he can look up at you properly; the grin he shoots you is extra shiny thanks to the fact that the lower half of his face is covered in his spit and your own slick, but he looks dopey and happy.

You manage one word, on a long and broken moan- “Please!”

Neteyam laughs quietly, the sound vibrating through his lips and into your pussy, but then his tongue is on your clit again, sucking you into his mouth, and you’re shattering around him as he finally pushed you over that edge you’ve been teetering on.

You keen and shake violently, spasming around Neteyam’s fingers and jerking into his mouth, coming so hard that you see black spots in your vision. Neteyam doesn’t let up, pulling broken moans out of you with tongue until you’re writhing.

You squirm and whimper until suddenly it’s too damn much, and then you’re reaching down to push at Neteyam’s neat braids to try to get away from his relentless tongue. Damn, he’s acting like he’s hungry for you, like he’d swallow you whole if he could. He doesn’t let up until you’re begging him to, albeit wordlessly — whimpering and shoving at his face, trying to arch away from the too-sensitive touch.

Finally, Neteyam relents. He lowers your legs from his shoulders and you practically crumple, going limp against your mattress. Neteyam’s face is wet and shiny, and he looks ridiculously smug. You’re still trembling, throbbing with the aftershocks.

“Mm, you sound so pretty.” Neteyam murmurs, his words coming out muffled and almost slurred as though he’s drunk.

“Fuck.” You whisper to yourself, staring at the ceiling with wide eyes as you struggle to catch your breath.

Neteyam hums, pressing kisses all over your pubic mound and lower belly. He seems so damn pleased with himself, pushing himself up your body so that he can nuzzle into your neck, pressing sweet nipping kisses to your throat.

His breathing is a little strained, and you grab blindly at the respirator hanging around his neck before bringing the mask up to his face.

“Breathe, Neteyam.” You gasp out, still a little breathless yourself.

He grunts, as though irritated over something of secondary importance, and takes a couple of deep breaths before dropping the mask again. His pupils are blown so wide that his iris is barely visible, just a thin ring of gold around a pool of black.

You laugh, panting and overwhelmed at the sight of his shiny face, and reach up to wipe his slick face with the palms of your hands. He huffs a quiet laugh of his own, turning his face towards your hands and nuzzling against you like an oversized cat.

“That was… that was better than I expected.” You say, still struggling to collect yourself.

Neteyam’s smile turns a little sly, his teeth flashing as he kisses at your palms. “Impressed?”

And you can’t help but laugh at that, feeling as though this whole situation is spinning around far beyond your wildest imagination. Fuck, he’s really giving his all to this, just to prove to you that he’s superior to the other men of the clan.

“Not yet.” You whisper, biting your lip and hoping that he takes it as the challenge/invitation you mean it to be.

And luckily he does, his smile only growing.

“I should keep going then.” He murmurs, his hands stroking up your sides.

He gently caresses both breasts, a little knead of big, rough hands that can cover much more than just one tit and you love it. Your back arches as you shiver, revelling in how bizarrely gentle he’s being with you.

“Yes,” You whisper eagerly, your legs spreading further until the muscles of your inner thighs are burning with the strain of it. “You definitely should.”

You reach out to tug at the band of his loincloth, your fingers actually trembling a little as you try to unknot it at the sides. Neteyam’s own breath hitches, and his much more nimble fingers reach to help you untie it and draw it away.

And fuck, now he’s naked too. You sit up eagerly, peering down between your bodies to try and catch a look at him properly. You may have touched him that day in the healing hut, but it’s completely different seeing him.

He’s big. So big. All the Na’vi are big when compared to you, of course, but this just… it feels different, because this is Neteyam. His cock is the same pretty blue shade as the rest of him, decorated with darker stripes and pretty glowing tanhì. Your heart thumps recklessly at sight of it twitching towards his belly, and you reach out towards it eagerly.

Your small fingers wrap around the hard length of him — he’s too thick for you to comfortably hold in one hand, but that doesn’t seem to matter because he groans appreciatively anyway when you run your fingers down his length and then back up, feeling warm and sticky precome gushing from the tip to coat your fingers.

“Ah!” Neteyam groans breathily, his hips rocking as your hand slides up the long, velvety length of him. “Fuck… so good.”

You feel like you’re burning up, your skin sweat-slick and far too hot. The weight of his cock in your hand has your head spinning; you want him inside of you, stretching you wide and fucking you deep. If he fucks as good as he eats pussy, you feel like you’re in for a very good time.

“C’mon,” You breathe, writhing a little. “You– you promised me that you’d.. That you would…”

“Mm, I promised I’d make you feel better than Txetyo ever could,” Neteyam finishes for you, leaning in to kiss your neck. “You like ‘em big and stupid, huh? That’s why they can’t please you, syulang.”

You toss your head back, your eyes fluttering shut as his sharp canines drag over the sensitive skin at the side of your throat. Fuck, maybe he’s right. None of those guys have ever made you feel this good before; you don’t think you’ve ever been this slick and eager in your whole life.

“God, you have such a big head,” You huff, quivering. “Maybe you’re big and stupid too.”

He just laughs at that, a dark chuckle that has your nerves buzzing, and leans down to nip at your shoulder hard enough to make you jerk beneath him. “I am not like Txetyo, or Art’alak, or Pewalsku, or Urtiltey.”

You scoff, before reaching up to push hard at his shoulders. You’re not actually strong enough to shift him, but he pulls back obediently, falling back to lay on his back on the bed. You rise up on your knees then, looming over him as he lays flat.

The way Neteyam is looking up at you, it’s like he’s seeing god. If he could worship you with just a look alone, he is. It’s a little overwhelming, and you feel something deep in your stomach knot just at the sight of him looking at you like that.

“Prettiest little thing I’ve ever seen.” Neteyam whispers, reaching out to grip at your hips, guiding you into straddling his lap.

You don’t think anyone has ever talked to you like this, or looked at you like this. You hardly know what to do in the face of his attention, so you revert to what you’re familiar with; you settle yourself against his lap and grind there, feeling the length of his cock glide along the seam of your cunt.

It feels as though your belly has been set alight, and you take a slow breath as you rock against him. His lips drag from the base of your throat up the length of your neck, then he nips gently at the hinge of your jaw. The softness of his breath against the sensitive skin of your throat elicits a shiver from you, and Neteyam’s hands pull you closer when he feels your reaction.

You make a soft sound against his mouth when his fingers clench tight around your hips. His hold on you encourages you to grind down against him. It's not as though you really need the encouragement, but the way his eyes darken as he stares up at you is enough motivation for you to tilt your hips and grind down just like he wants you to.

"Fuck." He breathes, his eyes going half-lidded as he tilts his head back against your bed to watch you move above him.

Heat is growing alarmingly quickly in your lower belly and at the apex of your thighs, and you tremble over Neteyam as you use your grip on his shoulders for leverage. The soft sounds of pleasure that are pulled out of his throat every time you roll yourself against him send sparks through your entire nervous system; it feels as though you just can't get close enough to him.

Your patience runs out, unable to keep up the teasing; Neteyam seems to feel much the same. When you raise yourself up, chest heaving, Neteyam grabs at his cock and holds it still to allow you to settle against it, the head notched against your entrance. He glides over the opening again, pressing in the barest amount. You can already tell it’s going to be a stretch. Neteyam is thick, and you want it in you, want to feel it pressing you open.

You clench around the head of his cock, trying to pull him in, and Neyeyam groans.

“You’re—” He starts to say, his big hands clutching at your hips. “Shit. You’re tighter than I even imagined, paskalin.”

The idea that he might have imagined this is almost more than you can take, and you surge forward to kiss him again, your mouths clashing clumsily.

“You—you thought about it?” You manage to say, your words coming out a little muffled as he sucks at your lower lip.

He just rumbles a laugh, as though your question is ridiculous, and doesn’t even bother answering. Instead he places one hand securely under your ass, the other adjusting himself—there’s a short, sharp burst of pain as you felt him start to push in, just the tip and your head is spinning. Your nails are digging into his shoulders but if he feels anything it doesn’t show.

He kisses your cheek and then pushes in a little deeper as his mouth falls to yours once more—swallowing up your sharp cry as another inch sinks into you, and you feel like you’re splitting open.

Fuck, you feel as though not grabbing lube was probably a mistake; you were too cocky, too confident in your ability to take him, so sure that he’d be as adequately satisfactory as the other Na’vi men you’ve been with.

He goes in and in and in, pressing farther into you than you even thought was possible. The stretch and the pressure inside you is glorious, so tight that you can barely even flex around him. His mouth is open, each breath escaping him quickly, and you can see your own amazement reflected back to you on Neteyam’s face.

You dig your nails into his shoulders to offset the pain radiating through your core as he shoves himself deeper into you, chased by another wave of warmth as his free hand move between you, thumb settling gently over your clit.

“Ohmygod,” You gasp, pleasure mixing with that burning ache. You squeal, but your noises are half-moans as you try to rock your hips against his hand even as you try to ease the feeling of his girth inside you.

“Ungh..” Neteyam groans into you shoulder as he rocks another inch into you, until you’re sobbing and moaning by turns. “Oh. Fuck. Txetyo didn’t deserve this, syulang. Didn’t know what to do with you.”

You whimper in his grip as he just holds you there, buried to the hilt, thumb still working at your clit and sending frissons of electricity up and down your spine.

“Feels good,” You slur. “You feel good.”

Neteyam pulls out half an inch and fucks back into you from below, making your breath hitch. “Yeah?”

“So big,” You gasp. “I-I want—"

“I know, I know. I’ve got you,” Neteyam rumbles, his full lips brushing gentle kisses over your temple, right in your hairline. “Take what you want, lovely girl.”

And you do, rocking your hips and taking one of his enormous hands to pull between your legs so he can continue to rub at your clit with his fingers, so he can feel all the ways you’re leaking onto him as you lean forward to run your own hungry mouth along his collarbone, his pecs, as your hands grip his shoulders to try and lift yourself up and onto him over and over again.

It doesn’t take long for that coil in your belly to swell, sweet and hot. It’s as if Neteyam is intimately familiar with the way you want him to rub your clit, how you want it pinched but only just so between two fingers, as if he’s been taking fucking notes all those times he had walked in and interrupted you. It doesn’t take long until you’re trembling and squeezing impossibly tight around him, taut like a violin string.

It’s like Neteyam is puncturing your lungs, and every time he fucks into you, you respond with stupid sounding little ‘ah’ sounds.

“Ah, ah, ah!” You gasp, teary-eyed and desperate. Neteyam’s mouth is parted, his eyes wide. They flick over you quickly, drinking you in as you ride him.

Your movements are slow to build, but gradually you establish a steady, desperate rocking. It doesn't take long for you to realise that grinding in his lap feels better than raising yourself all the way up and down. Distantly, you feel little guilty — you know that grinding and rocking in his lap in the way that you are feels better for you than it does for Neteyam, but he doesn't seem to mind. He's watching you with a rapturous expression, his arms urging you closer so that your sweat-slicked chests are pressed close together and your foreheads are resting against each other.

You find a rhythm that both satisfies and stokes you, riding him with abandon as your thighs clench tight around his narrow hips. Neteyam’s hands slide from your hips down over your lower back, worshipful as they drift lower to clutch at your ass and use his grip there to help lift you up and down.

You ride him with mindless intent. His fingers dig at the meat of your ass, his mouth dropped softly open as he fights to keep his own breaths even — it takes a long moment for you to realise that he's fighting to keep himself still and to stop himself from thrusting wildly into you. His restraint and the realisation that he's really allowing you to have all the power in the exchange strikes you hard. You’ve never felt any real sense of agency in sexual intimacy until now, and the realisation that he's being so considerate of how you’re feeling only contributes to the intensifying of those flutters in your belly.

The rush builds in you, relentless, mounting with every jerk of your hips. There would be no catching your breath until it broke.

You rock on him, hard, hard and fast and there, there it is, that’s it — that perfect deep unfurling. A moan rises from the depths of your chest as you gasp at it, your body trembling. Neteyam just stares up at you, mouth open, eyes gone wide and dark.

The wave crests, the world explodes around you, a kaleidoscope of sensation as you come undone in his arms, trembling even as he keeps sliding home into you. You keep moving over him through the ebb of it, through the helpless little sounds that break from his throat. You’re still shuddering when he reaches up to take a firm hold of your waist. As though he can't help himself, his hips thrust up into you.

“Yes,” Neteyam hisses, his flat nose all scrunched up in a feral sort of pleasure. “That’s my girl.”

You tremble, gasp-moaning as your joints turn to jelly. Your orgasm very slowly gives way to thunderous aftershocks that rocket through your body every few seconds, shuddering your whole frame in intervals.

"Fuck," He groans, his breathing gone ragged. "I'm going to-"

He doesn't even finish his sentence before he seems to lose some of that iron control he's been exerting; his hips jolt up into you, and then again, until he's thrusting up into you with a sense of urgency that's almost breath-taking. All you can do is cling onto his hair and bury your face into the crook of his neck, attempting to muffle the embarrassing little gasping sounds that you’re making into his skin as his fucking into you prolongs the breath-taking pleasure of your orgasm.

You don’t fuss when his big hands use his grip on your ass to lift you up himself, fucking up into you and letting loose. Then he's shaking, stilling, spilling himself inside you, and you watch eagerly as his face goes slack and relaxed.

You don't go still immediately. Your hips keep rolling slow and steady as you tremble against him, chasing that feeling of molten shivery pleasure that's still burning in your belly even as it starts to turn into almost unbearable oversensitivity. It's not a fully conscious movement, as you’re moving mostly on instinct, and after a few moments Neteyam takes a hold of your hips to slow you to a stop.

He stays inside you like this for what feels like an eternity, spent and nestled deep inside you as you sit in his lap, slumped against his large strong chest.

"Oh my god," You whisper eventually as another pleasant shudder jolts down your spine. It feels as though you’ve been kicked in the chest, as though the breath has been knocked out of you entirely to make room for the lovely floaty lightness that's beginning to fill the space between your ribcage”

"Mm." Neteyam hums quietly, his fingers tightening in the soft flesh of your hips as he tilts his chin up to brush his lips over your sweaty temple. "Alright?”

No, You think, with no small amount of panic. You’re absolutely not alright. Neteyam may have just been fucking you to prove a point, because it’s always been so important to him that he’s perfect at everything he tries his hand at, but it feels as though he’s just cracked you wide open. You don’t think anyone will ever make you feel as good as he just did.

When you don’t immediately answer, one of his big palms cups the back of your neck so he can tilt your head back, and he leans down to kiss you again. He sucks your swollen bottom lip into his mouth so he can worry at it while you whine, toes curled where you tucked them under your legs, balanced on his thighs.

"Impressed?” He murmurs into your ear, his warm, dry hands stroking soothingly over your sweat-dampened skin.

You laugh despite yourself, and it comes out breathless and broken. “Fuck. I—yeah. Yeah. I’m impressed. Asshole.”

Neteyam’s expression brightens, his ears twitch back as his smile grows. He leans in and kisses you again, once, twice, then three times in quick succession, and out of the corner of your eye you see his tail coiling lazily against your sheets.

“Feel like I need to lay down,” You say. “For a week maybe.”

Neteyam just chuckles as you slowly lift your hips; when Neteyam slides out of you a soft sound of loss escapes from his mouth. You sympathise — you feel uncomfortably empty now that he's no longer nestled inside of you, but Neteyam is already gathering you into his arms and flopping back onto your mattress with you all curled up ontop of his chest.

It all feels so natural — you’ve never cuddled after intimacy like this, and you never would have imagined that Neteyam would allow you to do this. But it seems like he craves physical touch as badly as you does, because it feels as though his hands are everywhere as he holds you.

"Don't look so pleased with yourself, dickhead." You grumble, though you’re already relaxing under the pleasant warm weight of his hands

Neteyam’s smile only grows. "Why shouldn't I be pleased with myself? Have I left you unsatisfied?

You groan loudly, before burying your face in the pillow. The worst part is that it's true — you’ve never felt so satisfied in your life. You think that you could close your eyes and cheerfully float away on a cloud, but you don't want to suffer the humiliation of admitting that.

“I’m satisfied.” You admit, mortified. “It— yeah. You won that stupid competition. Well done.”

That has exactly the effect you had expected it to have; Neteyam’s chest puffs up where you’re laying across it, his eyes crinkling up as he grins. God, he’s so fucking smug.

You manage to swallow down your embarrassment so that you can ask the question that’s been knocking around your head since the first time he had kissed you.

“Can we… do that again, sometime?” You mutter, keeping your face pressed into his chest so he can’t see the vulnerability on your face.

Neteyam’s chest rumbles in a deep laugh, and his large palm settles between your shoulderblades.

“Whenever you want, yawntutsyìp. We have all the time in the world.” He murmurs, nuzzling his face into your hair. “Where ever you want. Here, the forest, my hut in the village—”

You laugh, blinking in surprise at his eagerness. You guess he must be absolutely pussy-whipped right now, which is pretty sweet.

“Next time we mate, we’ll do it in the forest so Txetyo can find us.” He says, and you can feel his teeth against the top of your head when he grins. “Let him watch as I make you scream again.”

"I did not scream!" You snap, embarrassed, reaching to smack at his chest. But then his words actually parse in your head, and you push yourself up quickly on top of his chest so you can look down at him, wincing a little at the ache between your legs.

Neteyam obviously catches your wince because he frowns and one of his hands reaches for your thigh, but you grab at his wrist as you gape at him.

“What the fuck did you just say?” You blurt.

That must have been a slip of his tongue. Every man you’ve been with before has been so damn careful to avoid the term mating, obviously terrified of you somehow getting the wrong idea; they made it painfully clear that it was just fucking, with no strings attached, because you were small and exotic and apparently the tightest thing they’ve ever gotten to put their dicks into.

Neteyam blinks owlishly, as though confused by your response. “What?” He asks, before his face relaxes. “Ah, it’s only the thought of me watching that does it for you?”

“No, it—” You blink at him. “You said… you said next time we… we mate.”

“Yes.” He says, wrapping one big arm around your waist to tug you back to him, as though he doesn’t like the fact that you’re shifting away. “I enjoyed mating here, where I can kiss your face, but it is very...”

He pauses then, and glances around your room. For the first time, you see it through his eyes; it’s small and dingy, the electric lights buzzing and flickering as they run on the ancient generator that Norm and a couple of the other older scientists had dragged from Bridgehead. Even though he’s gotten comfortable cuddling you on your bed, it’s far too small for him; his legs are hanging off the end of it, his feet flat against the floor. Compared to the fantastical natural homes of the Na’vi, your little bedroom seems like a shithole.

“You will be more comfortable in my hut in the village.” Neteyam says decisively, using the arm wrapped around your waist to pull you closer to his chest again. “I wish to take you in the forest, at Vitrautral, as is tradition.”

“Mating.” You repeat, just to check if you had heard him right. “We—that was mating.”

“Mhmm.” Neteyam’s hum sounds casual enough, but you can see the ridiculously pleased wave of his tail in the air behind him. “I told you that you were wasting time with those skxawngs, but I did not mind waiting for you. I did not like hearing them talk about you, about how you felt and how they pleased you, but… I knew I could prove myself a better prospect than all of them.”

“But—” You’re still struggling with this, staring at him with a bewildered expression. “But it—that was sex. It wasn’t—”

“I will take you to Vitrautral tomorrow, and mate you properly,” Neteyam murmurs, and you feel his big chest rumble beneath you in a pleased purr at the idea. “You do not need any other now. Yes?”

It feels almost too good to be true. Almost. Because damn, you want that so badly that it actually aches. After so many years of craving intimacy of any kind, it seems shockingly unlikely that it’s being offered by Neteyam, the very personification of an Omaticayan golden child. How have you gone from getting fucking in empty corners and deep in the forest to having the Olo’eyktan’s son talk about mating you?

You think of the herbs and plants he always brings to the healing hut, the bones and fibres he forages, the food he brings you after hunts. You had always thought he was just shoving how great he was in your face, but now all of that is starting to rearrange itself inside your head. Was he seriously just trying to impress you?

You laugh a little disbelievingly, and Neteyam’s arm tightens around you.

“I have a necklace,” He murmurs, nuzzling against your forehead. “Made with freshwater pearls from the ocean. I was going to give it to you earlier but—we got distracted. It is in my tewng—”

“Get it later,” You whisper, clinging to his chest. You’re so comfortable, you don’t want to move, just in case the moment slips away forever. He made you a necklace. Fuck, he made you a necklace! You’ve only ever seen Na’vi mating gifts from a distance; the thought of receiving one is beyond anything you’ve ever imagined.

Neteyam’s chest seems to swell, his expression brightening the moment you cling to him. He hugs you close, his purr now reminiscent of a damn chainsaw as he curls his whole big body around you.

Taking a chance, you do something that you’ve always sort of wanted to do, ever since you found out what it was; you reach behind him and take his kuru in your hand, feeling the thick, glossy protective braid in your fingers.

Neteyam shudders under you, his rumbling purr stuttering a little as his eyelids flitter, his eyes going dark. He doesn’t stop you, watching you with lightly parted lips as your hand closes around the most sacred, sensitive part of him.

“This is okay?” You whisper, your vulnerability clear in your voice.

“Of course,” He whispers back, as though the moment is a soap bubble that could burst at a slightly raised voice. “It is yours, syulang.”

Emboldened, you drag your fist down the glossy braid until you reach the end, where the glowing tendrils that make up the exposed manifestation of his nervous system. The fleshy pink tendrils writhe in the air, and you watch in eager amazement. You’ve only ever seen diagrams of this part of the Na’vi anatomy, and you want so badly to touch it.

“You can play with it all you want,” Neteyam murmurs, and his voice is breathless.

You breathe a laugh, glancing up at him with a little grin. His pupils are blown, his lips parted, his chest heaving. You want to gnaw on his ribs, swallow him whole; he’s so cute.

“I’ll save that for tomorrow,” You whisper, the words ringing like a promise.

Neteyam looks briefly disappointed, before his mood is promptly buoyed at the thought of mating you again at the Tree of Souls, as he had promised you. He buries his face happily in your neck as you pet absently at the protective braid covering his kuru. It’s a non-sexual touch, and yet he goes entirely boneless, purring up a storm as you stroke your hand over it.

“Told you those others could not please you, paskalin,” He murmurs, his words slurring a little as his eyelids flutter with every soft touch to his kuru. “Told you they did not know what to do with you.”

You roll your eyes, but you can’t help the fond smile pulling at your mouth.

“Mm. You did. Guess I needed someone like you, huh? A mighty warrior?” You say, teasing him with that silly little nickname he always called himself when you were a teenager. At the time you had thought he was so annoying, but now, looking back… you’re willing to admit it was pretty adorable.

Neteyam’s drowsy face pulls up in a sweet smile, his flat nose brushing against your collarbones. It seems like he’s pleased you remembered, or maybe he’s pleased that you’re impressed with him.

He kisses your neck, then mumbles sleepily, “The mightiest.”

[emchante]

kinktober | proving his worth - d.r.

day 1 - praise kink | kinktober masterlist

summary: after another rough race with vcarb, daniel seeks comfort in you back at the hotel. conversations arise about his uncertainty with everything about himself-- his driving and looks being a big factor. it's your job to prove the thoughts wrong.

WARNINGS: 18+ content, sub!daniel, dirty talk, praise kink, use of good boy, hair pulling.

w.c: 1.5k

a/n: happy october! i'm excited to share these blurbs with you all, and i hope you enjoy them. let me know your thoughts via reblog, comment or ask, i love hearing from you guys.

your thighs cradle daniel’s hips as you slowly move atop of him. his hands are on you as his fingers grip your soft skin tightly, with just enough desperation to reveal the weight of his emotions. his eyes, usually so filled with confidence and optimism, are clouded with something different now– doubt, frustration, the heavy weight of everything that has yet to fall from his mouth.

the tension that fills the room is almost suffocating, and a lot of it is radiating from daniel; his forehead pressed against your own, a shaky breath escaping his pouty lips. the only noises that fill the room is the sounds of yours and daniel’s skin hitting against one another, and the heavy breaths from daniel. that is, until he finally speaks up. “i just.. don’t feel like myself anymore,” daniel admits lowly, voice thick with emotion. his eyes land on his fingers that are absentmindedly tracing patterns on your soft hips. “everything feels wrong. maybe it’s me.” you run your fingers through his sweaty curls, tugging on them gently as you tilt his head back so you can see his face. you lean in and place a sweet kiss on his nose, before moving to place another on his lips. “don’t say that, danny,” you whisper, your voice gentle but firm. your hands cup his face, your thumbs brushing over his cheekbones as you look him in the eyes, wanting him to know how much you mean the words falling from your lips. “you’re still everything you’ve always been. on and off track.”

daniel swallows hard, you can see his adam’s apple bobbing as he does so. his grip on you tightens, scared to let you go. “then why do i feel like i’m falling apart?” he asks softly, as if he’s embarrassed to seek the reassurance. his wide doe eyes boring into yours, pleading for comfort. “because you’re doubting yourself, daniel. but you don’t need to, and you shouldn’t be. i’m going to show you how much you’re worth,” the words get to him, because you see the spark reignite in his eyes and briefly, you see his eyes get glossy. you don’t dwell on it though, because you know daniel wouldn’t want you to mention it.

your hips roll slowly again, and a quiet groan escapes him. there’s still that uncertainty lingering in daniel’s mind and you know it. tonight is about erasing every doubtful thought. you won’t stop until his mind is filled with nothing but praises– until your name, your words and your touch is all he can think about, leaving room for nothing else.

as your hips slowly grind against daniel, you can feel daniel begin to tense beneath you, his fingers gripping onto your hips tighter, holding onto you like you’re the only thing keeping him grounded. his breath stutters– from both pleasure and doubt-- and you can see him begin to spiral. but you won’t allow that. not tonight.

“look at me,” you murmur, voice soft yet commanding. daniel’s eyes open and focus in on your face, making sure to follow your instructions. “you’re incredible, danny. you’ve worked so hard to be where you are. you deserve everything.” his eyes flutter closed momentarily, as if he’s trying to take the words in and process them. you don’t leave it at that though, and you lean in to his neck as you pepper delicate kisses along the soft skin. “you’re perfect,” you mutter against the him, “every single part of you.” you trail the kisses down to his collarbones, your hands coming to rest on the hard planes of his chest. a shaky breath escapes him, the mix of your soft kisses and sweet words getting to him– in more ways than one. all he can get out is a small “yeah?”, looking up to your eyes hopeful, a sign he’s listening but needs more.

you grind down harder against him, reveling in the whine that leaves his mouth as he throws his head back. you retrace your tracks, moving back up his neck and this time, trail the kisses up to his ear, kissing just below his earlobe. moving your lips closer to his ear, a smile makes its way onto your face at the shiver that escapes daniel. “yeah, danny. you’re so good– so good to me and for me,” you whisper to him, catching his adams apple bobbing at the corner of your eye. your lips are now on his jaw, his shortened stubble graciously tickling your soft lips as you trail your kisses all around his jaw, making sure to love every part of him. “nobody makes me feel as good as you,” you tell him, your words coming out in soft, breathy praises. “you’re everything i want. everything i need.” daniel’s hips involuntarily jerk up at your words, a choked sound leaving his lips, and you know it’s starting to get to him. “you’re so strong,” you continue, moving your hands from his chest over to his arms, tracing every tattoo that was painted upon them. “you work so hard, and you’re so talented. and you’re so handsome,” you add, lips brushing daniel’s before leaving a chaste kiss upon them. “you’re so handsome, daniel.” he shudders beneath you, overwhelmed by the flood of praises, but he needs more of it. “say it again,” he whispers, almost as if he’s embarrassed. but you can hear the desperation his voice, pleading for you to continue. you smile, running your hands over his chest again, your fingers tracing the lines of his muscles. “you’re handsome. you’re perfect, inside and out,” you kiss his lips, slow and deep, before pulling back just enough to meet his gaze again. “you’re everything.” daniel lets out a broken moan, head falling against your bare chest as he continues to thrust up into you. his breaths are ragged, he’s panting with want and need, and you know your words are getting him closer. you move a hand to the back of his head, fingers delving into his curls, tugging gently as you play with them. he moves against you with more urgency, occasionally pressing soft kisses against your breasts, a silent thank you. “good boy,” you whisper, your lips hovering his ear as you give his curls another tug/ the words make daniel groan against your skin, you can feel him swallow thickly. his hips jerk against you once more, you know he likes that. “so good f’me, danny. so good.” his breath stutters, and you can feel him begin to tremble beneath you, the tension growing too much for him to contain. “you’re doing so well,” you tell him, words soft but filled with heat, each word dripping with affection and desire. “no one could ever make me feel like you. only you.” daniel’s grip impossibly tightens on you again, to the point you’re sure you’ll have bruises on your skin tomorrow. you aren’t bothered though, it only excites you. his thrusts up into you begin to get faster, driven by your praise. you place a kiss to his temple, before telling him”you’re mine, danny. every part of you is perfect. you’re so strong, so talented, so perfect. and most of all– you’re mine.” he whimpers at that, his moans growing more desperate as his head buries further into your chest. you can feel him losing control, every sound he makes coming out rough, needy. your fingers tighten in his curls as you tilt his head back, forcing him to look up at you. “look at me, baby,” you whisper, your voice a soothing command. his eyes, heavy-lidded and filled with lust, meet yours, and you smile down at him. “that’s it, danny. i want you to see how perfect you are.” a choked groan escapes him, his body trembling beneath yours, and you keep your hips moving, slow and steady, letting him feel every bit of you as you praise him. “you’re close, aren’t you?” you murmur, leaning in to kiss him again, slow and deep. “come for me, be a good boy.. show me how good you are, danny.”

his hips snap up desperately, his breath catching as he teeters on the edge, eyes locked on yours as if your praise is the only thing holding him together. “you’re so good. come for me,” you whisper, pressing your forehead against his as his body shudders beneath you, a strangled moan escaping him as his seed spilling inside you with no warning.as daniel’s body shudders beneath you, he completely lets himself go but you catch his face, pulling him into a searing kiss. “believe me now, danny?” you ask him, and he nods lazily into your hands, nuzzling into your soft palms. “i want to hear it,” you tell him, tone commanding.

his breath hitches at your words, doe eyes looking right into yours as he nods slowly. “ ‘m perfect..” he pants, swallowing before continuing, “i’m good, and i’m all yours.”

[wilted-society]

playing with fire

pairings: mattheo riddle x reader

genre: fluff + angst

warnings: suggestive ending, cussing

— mattheo's flirtiness couldn't be held back. You decided you were fed up with it.

Hogwarts hummed with its typical vibrancy, the old stone corridors filled with the noise of students' chatter and sporadic laughter. Despite the lively surroundings, you were preoccupied with a recent confrontation with Mattheo. Your relationship, marked by a fiery mix of passion and intensity, had taken a toll on you, leaving you especially shaken and uneasy after this latest disagreement.

With a heavy heart, you strolled your way through the great hall. Stopping to sit down beside Pansy, who took notice of your unusual behavior.

"What's the matter? You usually sit next to Riddle?" Pansy questioned, seemingly oblivious but quickly realized as she noticed the tension between you two. "Oh.. Is it bad?" She whispered, to which you only replied with a weak nod.

On the other hand, Mattheo, who was sitted beside Theodore, looked your way for a moment and then went back to his food. Playing with, barely even eating any of it.

"What's happened? She usually sits right next to you." Theo furrowed his eyebrows, looking between you and Mattheo. Immediately noticing the tension. "I fucked up." was all Mattheo said, before turning back to his plate and played with his food. Theodore urged him to tell what was the reason, kept pestering him until he finally told Theo.

The fight had stemmed from a misunderstanding that quickly spiraled out of control. Mattheo had been spending more time with his Slytherin friends, particularly a girl named Cassandra, who had a reputation for being overly flirtatious.

Y/N had confronted Mattheo about it, her insecurities bubbling to the surface.

"Why do you keep spending so much time with Cassandra?" Y/N had demanded, her voice tight with jealousy. "She's all over you, and you don't seem to mind."

Mattheo had frowned, clearly taken aback by her accusation. "Cassandra's just a friend, Y/N. You're overreacting."

"Am I?" Y/N had shot back, her frustration growing. "It feels like you're pushing me away. Like you don't care about how I feel."

Mattheo's eyes had darkened with anger. "That's ridiculous. You're being paranoid. I can't have friends without you thinking the worst?"

The argument had escalated, each of them saying things they didn't truly mean. Mattheo had stormed off, leaving Y/N feeling a mix of anger, hurt, and regret. The wounds from their fight still stung, and she couldn't shake the feeling that their relationship was on shaky ground.

"Yeah you fucked up," Theodore patted Mattheo on the back, "better make it up to her then." Theo said before turning back to group, to which Mattheo sighed.

.

"I swear, Luna. That guy will be the death of me. He was basically eye-fucking that Cassandra, flirting with her like he doesn't have a girlfriend!" You ranted to Luna Lovegood, who was intently listening to you rambling.

Luna, perched on a windowsill with her legs crossed, watched you with her usual calm demeanor. Her big, silvery eyes were filled with empathy and a hint of concern. "That sounds incredibly frustrating, Y/N. Have you tried telling Mattheo how you feel?"

You stopped pacing and turned to face her, your frustration palpable. "I did, Luna. But he just brushed me off, saying I'm overreacting. It's like he doesn't even care how much it hurts."

Luna tilted her head, considering your words carefully. "Sometimes people act out in strange ways when they're dealing with their own insecurities. Mattheo might not realize how much his actions are affecting you."

You threw your hands up in exasperation. "Well, he needs to realize it, Luna! It's like he's purposely trying to get a reaction out of me. And it's working. I don't know how much more I can take."

Luna slipped off the windowsill and walked over to you, her movements graceful and serene. She placed a gentle hand on your shoulder. "Maybe he's trying to provoke you because he's unsure about his own feelings. Or maybe he's testing the boundaries of your relationship. Either way, you deserve honesty and respect."

You felt a lump forming in your throat, and tears threatened to spill over. "I just... I love him, Luna. But this is tearing me apart. Seeing him with her, laughing and flirting like I'm invisible... it hurts so much."

Luna's expression softened even more, and she pulled you into a comforting hug. "Love can be very complicated, Y/N. But you are strong, and you deserve someone who makes you feel valued and secure."

You hugged her back, feeling some of your tension ease in her calming presence. "What should I do, Luna? I don't want to lose him, but I can't keep feeling like this."

Luna stepped back and looked into your eyes, her gaze steady and wise. "You need to have a serious conversation with Mattheo. Tell him exactly how his actions are making you feel. If he truly cares for you, he'll listen and make an effort to change. If he doesn't, then you need to consider what's best for your own well-being."

You nodded, wiping away a tear. "You're right. I need to be honest with him and with myself."

Luna smiled, a soft and reassuring expression that made you feel a little lighter. "And remember, you always have friends who care about you. You're never alone in this."

"Thank you, Luna. I really needed to hear that," you said, your voice steadier now.

"Anytime, Y/N. Let's go for a walk by the lake. The fresh air might help clear your mind and give you the courage you need to face Mattheo," Luna suggested, her hand still gently resting on your arm.

You nodded, grateful for her support. "That sounds like a good idea."

.

"Goodnight, Luna!" You bade your goodbyes to Luna, parting ways as you strolled through the winding corridors on your way to the Slytherin dungeons.

The dim torchlight illuminated the path ahead, and the castle seemed almost alive with its shadows and quiet reverberations.As you quietly strolled, you heard a voice call out your name.

"Y/N!" It was him—Mattheo Riddle. The same voice that always had the power to make your heart race, the one that whispered sweet nothings to your ear. But tonight, his voice only stirred up more anger and heartbreak.

You chose to ignore him and kept walking, determined not to give in. "Y/N! Please, can we talk through this?" he begged, his footsteps echoing against the stone walls as he hurried to catch up.

You paused and turned to face him, a cold glint in your eye. "You better be." You narrowed your eyes at him, still furious and heartbroken.

Mattheo ran a hand through his hair, his dark eyes filled with a mix of desperation and regret. "I know I messed up, Y/N. I didn’t realize how much it would hurt you.”

Your heart wavered slightly at the sincerity in his voice, but you quickly regained your resolve. “Actions speak louder than words, Mattheo. You flirt with other girls and brush me off. How am I supposed to believe anything you say?”

He took a step closer, his presence encroaching on your space. “I’ve been an idiot, Y/N. I swear, I didn’t mean to hurt you. I just—I’ve been dealing with my own insecurities, and I wasn’t thinking straight.”

You felt a surge of frustration and sadness, but deep down, you still cared for him. “You have a funny way of showing it, Mattheo.”

He reached out, his hand gently cupping your cheek. “I’m sorry. I never want to lose you. I just need you to understand.”

The touch of his skin against yours sent shivers down your spine. It was a soft caress, a brief moment of tenderness amidst the chaos. You felt torn between wanting to push him away and craving the intimacy that only he could provide.

His dark eyes bore into yours, his voice low and intense. “Let me make it up to you, Y/N. Let me show you how much I care.”

Your breath hitched at the suggestion, and you felt a twinge of desire creeping into your thoughts. “Show me?” you murmured, your voice betraying a hint of vulnerability.

Mattheo’s hand slid from your cheek to the small of your back, pulling you closer. “Yes. Let me prove to you that I’m worth it.”

He leaned in, capturing your lips in a slow, heated kiss. You could feel the tension in his body as he deepened the kiss, his hands moving to caress your waist. A shiver ran through you as his touch lingered on your skin.Your resistance melted away as you responded to his kiss, feeling the need to be close to him. It was a soft, heated moment that made you forget the pain of the past few days.

Breaking the kiss, Mattheo rested his forehead against yours, his breath warm against your lips. You smirked, an idea—rather suggestive, came up in your head. "Lead the way, then."

And with that, Mattheo wasted no time dragging you both into his room. His smile was visible as he sprinted immediately to prove himself.

[violentdelightsandviolentends]

Honey Girl. Chapter Four.

Chapter One. Chapter Two. Chapter Three. Chapter Five. Chapter Six. Chapter Seven. Chapter Eight. Chapter Nine. Chapter Ten. Series Masterlist. The Playlist.

Chapter Synopsis - You and Bucky deal with the fallout of Cora's reveal. What's that saying? If you love something, let it go...

Pairing - Dad'sBestFriend! Bucky Barnes x Female Reader - soulmate au

Age Rating - 18+

Warnings - cursing. angst. alcohol consumption.

Word Count - 5k

Author's Note - i can only apologise that this chapter took a little while!! my life is at a super weird place rn, so i'm just trying to find the time when i can. words cannot describe how incredible all of your support is for Honey Girl. the fact you all reblog and comment and send me asks means the world to me. love you all so much.

as always, reblogs, comments and feedback (even anonymous feedback) are immensely appreciated!! your reblogs are the only way to circulate my fics, which keeps me going <3

Masterlist. Inbox.

You can't breathe.

It's like all of the oxygen has been sucked out of the air, leaving it dry, brittle, sterile. Your lungs are burning, scratched like sandpaper. The backyard is spinning, like teenagers at a roller rink - all flashing lights and endless rotations.

You haven't taken your eyes off of Bucky, and he hasn't taken his eyes off of you. If you were thinking more logically, you'd probably realise that you've been staring at each other for too long, and it's starting to look a little suspicious. You don't care.

Your ears are ringing. It's like there's been an explosion, and you're scattered amongst the debris. Smoke, flames, rubble. A catastrophic detonation in your parents backyard.

A gentle hand on your shoulder snaps you back to reality. The music is still playing, everyone around the table is still conversing, the house still stands. No explosion here.

"Sweetheart?"

It's your Mom, clearly sensing your distress. She probably thinks you're upset with her, for telling Cora. You are, but that's not what's causing the pain in your chest.

"Come inside with me, baby girl. Let's get away from the noise for a second."

She grabs your hand and pulls you out of your chair, still none the wiser to the magnetism preventing you from breaking your gaze that's locked on Bucky's. She practically drags you inside, the cool air of the kitchen waking you up.

"Sweetheart, I am so, so sorry. Cora overheard the conversation we had earlier. I thought it was good news, so I didn't think to ask her to keep it private."

She looks like she's being eaten alive by guilt. Your bottom lip quivers, your eyes well up, and before you know it, there are warm, salty tears dripping down your cheeks.

"Hey, hey. What's the matter?"

You sit down on the tiled floor, back pressed against the cabinets. Curling your knees to your chest, you try to stifle your sobs.

"Everything's such a mess, Mama."

She drops to the ground, gathering you in her arms. She holds you as tight as she can, rubbing soothing circles into your back and whispering comforting words in your ear. Eventually, she pulls back to look at you.

"What's the matter, baby? I thought Stella's call was a good thing - that you'd be excited to go back to California."

You take a shaky breath before replying.

"It's just... I think - I don't, it's... it's so complicated."

She traces her fingers over your cheeks, your eyebrows, your nose. She dances her fingertips over your face, as if she's committing it to her mind forever. It brings back warm and cosy childhood memories of her doing the same thing to help you sleep. The two of you would snuggle up against all of your pillows in bed, tucked up and safe. She'd lie with you until she was sure you were dreaming, before kissing you on the forehead and sneaking out.

"Talk to me. We can figure it out. We always do."

"It's not that simple. I just... there's a lot going on, I guess. I thought it'd be an easy decision, but it isn't, and it's all I can think about, and it's eating me up because I'm so scared I'm gonna do the wrong thing -"

You cut yourself off with a sob, resting your head on your knees.

"I knew there was something bothering you, sweetheart. Why didn't you come and talk to us? Even if we can't fix it, we can listen."

"I thought I could handle it. I thought I could figure it out on my own."

"You don't ever have to carry stress like this on your own, baby girl. Ever. You hear me?"

You nod and lean into her, letting her rock you in her arms on the kitchen floor.

"I'm sorry again, about Cora. She means well, you know she does."

"I know. Doesn't feel like it sometimes, but I know."

A pause.

"Okay, sweetheart. What are we going to do now? Whatever you decide, we'll support you."

"Your Mom's right," your Dad says from the doorway. "Whatever you choose, we'll be right alongside you. No matter what."

He strides over to join the two of you on the floor, sandwiching you between him and your Mom.

"If you need help packing up and moving, we're here. If you need us to create an elaborate lie to tell Stella, we're here. Either way, you've got us."

You smile at him gently, leaning to rest your head on his shoulder. Regardless of what happens, you have two parents that love you more than anything in the world. That has to count for something.

"You wanna rejoin us outside, or are you too tired? No one will blame you if you go home."

"I think I'll go home," you murmur. "I don't wanna face any more questions for today."

"Bucky's just gone too. Said something about an early morning tomorrow."

You inhale shakily at the mention of his name. You know you'll have to face him sooner or later.

Your Dad stands and grabs your hands to help you to your feet, before doing the same to your Mom. They both hug you tightly before walking you out to the front door.

"Promise me you'll call if you need anything. Anything."

"I promise, Mama. Don't worry about me. I'll be okay."

"Do you want one of us to walk you home?"

"No, it's okay. I think I need the air."

"Love you, baby girl."

"Love you too. Both of you."

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

You're halfway home when you decide to turn around. You need to talk to Bucky.

It doesn't take you long to figure out where he is. You can feel in your chest that he's close by, that he hasn't strayed far. He hasn't gone home, though. The Universe is pulling you in the opposite direction.

The beach.

You spin on your heel and start walking down the road, picking up pace as you go. You can feel rain in the air, threatening to spill from the clouds at any given moment. Before you know it, you're running, sprinting along the sidewalk in the direction of your soulmate.

You get to the small boardwalk and look out over the sand. The sky is grey as concrete, cold and unforgiving. You spot a figure in a worn brown leather jacket by the shore, and you know instantly. It's him.

You march onto the beach with your shoes still on, wrapping your arms around yourself to act as a shield from the wind. You left your jacket at your parent's house, too eager to get out of there in a hurry. The rain is suspended in the air, never quite reaching the ground. You know it's only a matter of time before the heavens open.

"Bucky!" you yell, practically bounding across the sand. "Buck!"

He doesn't turn because he hears your voice. He turns because he suddenly feels like he can breathe, which he hasn't been able to do for the last hour. He knew you were there before you shouted his name.

"Bucky, please!"

He spins on his heel and stops walking, waiting for you to catch up with him. You're sprinting, panting as you reach him. The ocean waves crash against the shore, dangerously close to his boots.

"Buck, just let me explain," you choke out, trying to catch your breath.

You finally stop running and look at him. He looks broken. His hair looks like he's pulled his fingers through it repeatedly, tear tracks staining his cheeks, lips bitten red. You've never seen him upset like this. It's the worst thing you've ever witnessed.

"There's nothing to explain," he begins calmly, trying to keep a lid on his feelings.

"There is, Buck. There is. I... Cora overheard me confiding in my Mom, telling her about a call I'd gotten, from a classmate at culinary school. It was just an offer - I haven't accepted anything! I never meant for you to find out like this, I swear. It's all just... it's all so fucked up."

He looks at you in disbelief.

"No, you know what's fucked up?" he asks, raising his voice. "Finding out that my soulmate is moving across the country from some alcoholic suburban mom at a dinner party!"

You've never heard him yell before. You don't like it at all. You gather yourself before replying calmly, determined to keep you emotions under wraps.

"I've been trying to find a way to talk to you about it, but I didn't know where to start. How do I even begin to explain any of this?"

"Maybe, I don't know - 'hey, Buck, I got a call and I'm thinking of moving thousands of miles away for my dream job,' would be a good place to start?"

"It's more complicated than that. I was trying to protect you."

"Protect me from what?"

"From blowing your life up for me!"

You stare at each other for a minute, both of you unblinking.

"What are you talking about?" he croaks out.

"You'd drop everything for me, Bucky, and I can't let you do that. You've worked too damn hard to let it all go."

He's dumbfounded, for a moment. Not because he doesn't understand. No. He's realising that you're right.

"I knew that if I told you straight away, you'd have persuaded me to let you come with, and I would have said yes. And then you'd regret it, and you'd resent me, and we'd be over before we've even begun."

When he doesn't say anything, you continue.

"The thing is, Buck, the selfish part of me would have happily invited you along. Me and you, in California, running a bakery? That sounds like a fucking dream. But I have to listen to the other side of me, the selfless part. And that part is telling me that you have worked too damn hard for too damn long just for me to take that all away."

You feel droplets of water on your face, and for a moment, you wonder when you started to cry again. Then, in the deep distance, you hear a crack of thunder. The rain begins to pour, both of you caught in a storm in more ways than one.

"You don't get to make a decision like that for me!" he finally responds, yelling to be heard over the downpour. "We're supposed to talk about these things! To figure them out together! That's what soulmates are - we're a team!"

"I can't think rationally around you, Bucky! It's like all logic goes out the window. I'm just so overwhelmed with-"

You stop yourself before the word comes out, but you both know what you were about to say. He feels it in his ribcage, the surge of emotion from you.

"-with how I feel about you. You're my forever, Buck, and I feel like -" a sob wracks through you, shaking your frame. "-like I've fucked it all up already."

Your tears mix with the rainwater, trailing down your cheeks. You watch as Bucky fights with himself, internally battling his feelings.

"You're not the only one fucking it up," he chokes. "You repeatedly told me we had to take it slow, but I just... couldn't help myself. I've never felt for anyone what I feel for you, and being away from you for even a minute is fucking torture. I moved us too fast, and now look where we are. We've become the equivalent of a married couple in a couple of weeks. No one can handle change that sudden."

"It's not.. none of this is your fault, Buck. I kept something from you, something big. I know it doesn't matter now, but I want you to know how hard it's been to not tell you. It was killing me."

"I felt it," he murmurs shakily, willing himself not to cry. "In my chest. You were so torn up about something, and I just couldn't figure out what it was. I should have pushed you more, but I was worried I'd push you away."

Your lip trembles as you watch him bite his own anxiously.

"I'm so scared, Buck," you whisper. "I feel so lost and so confused and like nothing makes sense."

"Me too," he whispers back, eyes never leaving yours. "I'm fucking terrified. Our worlds have been turned upside down."

"Is it... is it supposed to be this hard? Everyone makes it sound so easy."

"I don't know. Maybe the Universe heard that we were anti-soulmate and decided to be super tough on us. Cosmic karma, or something."

You choke out a laugh through your tears. The rain has plastered your clothes to your body, the salty wind chilling you to the bone. Without thinking, Bucky takes off his jacket and wraps it around you, unable to watch you shiver any longer.

"What now?" you ask quietly. If he wasn't standing so close, he wouldn't have heard it.

"Let's get out of the storm," he suggests, nodding his head towards the path home. "We can talk some more somewhere warmer."

You sniffle and take a deep breath, willing yourself to get it together. Bucky surprises you by linking your hand with his, warm fingers intertwining around yours.

He doesn't let go the whole way home.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

Bucky takes you to his house.

You haven't been here since before your Tethering. You walk in the door, and your knees threaten to give way.

It's overwhelming.

Everywhere - everything - smells like Bucky. His scent clings to every fabric, every upholstery, every room. There's pictures scattered across the mantelpiece, his handsome face staring at you wherever you go. The house is warm, cosy, and just so Bucky it makes your heart ache.

You walk over to the fireplace, taking a closer look at the array of frames adorning it. There's one of your parents and Bucky smiling, sat out on his lawn last summer; another of Bucky and his team of mechanics, stood proudly outside his garage. A small black frame catches your eye. You pick it up, and your breath hitches in your chest.

It's a picture of the two of you on the deck of his boat, the day after you found out you were soulmates. The wind is blowing your hair, billowing your shirts, sun beating down on your skin. You're both beaming at the camera, bright and blinding, completely content.

You're holding back tears as you put it back in it's original place.

"My favourite picture," he murmurs from somewhere behind you. "We look happy."

"We were happy," you whisper. Then, quieter, "We will be again."

A pause.

"You want something to drink? Coffee, cocoa? Oh, I have that tea you like, the apple one?"

"You do?"

"Yeah. I, uh, bought some last time I went grocery shopping. In case you stopped by."

"Tea sounds good. Please."

You stay stood in the middle of the living room while Bucky puts the kettle on the stove, worried that your wet clothes will ruin his couch. As if he's read your mind, he pops his head around the door.

"There's a load of fresh clothes folded on top of the dryer. Grab whatever you want, dry off a little."

You wander into the laundry room, sorting through the pile. You find a t shirt with his garage logo on the back in big, white letters.

J.B.B. Motorcycles and Automotives.

The blocky, bold font swirls across the black material. You run your fingers over it, tracing the curves and spikes of the typeface. It's something you've seen him in a million times. You inhale deeply as you slip it over your head, revelling in the way it smells like him. You grab some boxer shorts and slip those on too, glad to finally be warm and dry.

Bucky loses his breath when you walk into the room. He's never seen you in his clothes before, and for good reason. He's about to have a goddamn heart attack.

"Tea is on the coffee table," he chokes out. "I'm gonna change, and then we'll talk, yeah?"

You nod gently, settling into the cushions of his couch and tucking your legs underneath you, mug warming your hands.

When Bucky returns, he's in sweatpants and an oversized hoodie that you want to burrow yourself into. He takes his place, careful to put a little distance between you. Far enough that you're not touching, but close enough that you almost are.

"I'm sorry," you whisper. "I'm not good at this."

"Neither am I," he smiles gently. "It's my first time having a soulmate."

"Mine too," you laugh softly.

It floors you, his ability to always be able to comfort you. It's like a superpower, the way he always knows what to say or do to put you at ease.

"I think we got a little ahead of ourselves," he begins, careful to keep his voice low and deliberate. "I keep forgetting that we have forever. Literally. I was so eager to rush into this with you because I got excited. Don't get me wrong, I'm still ridiculously excited, but I'm realising now that our version of 'slow' wasn't slow at all."

"This whole Tethering thing makes everything so intense. There have been times where I honestly thought I was going to drop dead if you didn't kiss me."

"The feelings mutual," he chuckles.

You lace your fingers with his, never breaking eye contact, before addressing the elephant in the room.

"What am I gonna do about California, Buck?"

Your voice cracks just saying the word.

"Stella needs an answer, and I've upset you, and my parents are clueless, and I just - I don't know what to do. Tell me what to do. Please."

"I can't tell you what to do, honey," he soothes, running his thumb over the back of your hand. "And I'm not upset. I was, in the backyard... but I was mainly just blindsided. I kinda get it, you not telling me. I'm not sure what I'd do in your situation either."

"I just feel like both decisions are wrong. I can't win."

"Hey, hey. Look at me, pretty baby."

Bucky cradles your face in his warm hands, forcing your eyes to meet his ocean blue ones. You have to focus on his words, so you don't get lost in the waves of his irises.

"At the end of the day, it's completely your decision, and no one in the world can change that. But-"

He takes a deep breath, and continues.

"I think that you'll regret it every day for the rest of your life if you don't take the incredible opportunity that's been offered to you."

You take a second to process what he's telling you, your mind running at a thousand miles an hour.

"Are you... you're... are you saying I should take the job?"

"Like I said, it's your decision, but... yes. I'm saying you should take the job."

Your eyes well with tears, and you bite your lip to stop them from escaping. Inhaling carefully, you put your hands on his chest, feeling his steady heartbeat under your palms. He's calm. He's sure. He's collected enough for the both of you.

"What about us?" you ask, barely above a whisper.

"Like you said, baby. I'm your forever." Buck leans in, resting his forehead to yours. "We have time."

"All the time in the world."

You connect your lips to Bucky's softly, testing the waters. He kisses you back with so much feeling, tears slip from your lashes without warning. He's crying too, emotion mixing with yours, dousing you both.

You pull away and wrap your arms around him, curling yourself into his chest. He holds you as tightly as he can, knowing this will be the last time for a long time.

"So you'll go."

"I'll go."

"And I'll stay."

"You'll stay."

"And we'll be okay. No matter what, we'll be okay."

You and Bucky fall asleep in each others arms, cherishing the feeling of home one last time.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

The happiness is starting to seep through.

You're devastated to be leaving Bucky behind, but you're trying to look on the bright side. Sunny beaches, new people, your dream job. If you think about the positives for long enough, the Bucky sized hole in your chest hurts a little less.

You're packing up your bookshelf when your phone rings, scaring the life out of you.

"Bitch!"

You know who it is instantly.

"Hi, Lacie."

"Where have you been? Why didn't you answer my text from last night?"

"Shit, sorry. I've been packing. What's up?"

"We're going out tonight. Not just us - all the girls. We're throwing you a goodbye party!"

You groan inwardly, massaging your temples with your fingers.

"A party? Lace, I don't need a party."

"Babe, you do. You really do. It'll be fun! I thought you'd be excited!"

You take a deep breath, and remember what you've been telling yourself. Focus on the positives.

"Okay, fine. Where? What time? What should I wear?"

"I knew you'd say yes! Come to my place at like... six? We can get ready together, like old times! And wear something sexy."

She doesn't wait for you to argue, just hangs up the phone. She knows you too well.

You know it'll be good for you, to see your girlfriends - but the thought of all the goodbyes you're about to say breaks your heart a little more.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

"Okay, what the fuck is going on with you?"

You're sat cross legged on Lacie's living room floor, sharing makeup that's scattered across the coffee table. You sip your wine for a moment, trying to come up with an excuse. It's no use.

"I don't know."

"Bullshit."

You turn to look at her.

"What?"

"It's bullshit, babe. Something's going on. You've been given your dream job, and you're moping around like you just got broken up with or something. Why aren't you happy?"

There's no malice in her voice, just pure love. She adores you. You adore her. She's the one person with an outsiders perspective on all of this. So, you cut the act.

"I had my Tethering."

Silence.

She's processing.

"What?!"

"Yeah."

"When? Who? Where? How? Oh my God what is happening? Why didn't you say anything? Fuck, I'm gonna cry. I'm so overwhelmed right now, I'm so happy for you! Wait... are we not happy?"

"It's... complicated."

There's a lump in your throat, but a levity in your heart. A weight has been taken off you. Telling someone the truth has made you feel a little lighter.

"Who is it, babe?"

You take a deep breath, and look her in the eyes.

"Bucky."

Her jaw drops.

"Your... your Dad's best friend Bucky?"

"That's the one."

"Oh. My. Fucking. God."

"Yeah."

"Holy shit."

"Yeah."

"This is complicated."

"Yeah."

"Aw, babe."

She pulls you in for a hug, not caring about the makeup you're smearing across her shirt. You cling to her as tightly as you can, savouring your best friends comfort.

"Does anyone else know?"

"No. We decided not to tell my parents for a while."

"Shit. No wonder you've been so sad lately. You're moving across the country, away from the one person you're supposed to be near."

"It's really hard," you whisper, tears threatening to spill.

"I can't even begin to imagine," she murmurs, holding you close. "I wish you'd told me sooner. We could have talked about it."

"I know," you sniffle. "I thought I could handle it on my own, but I really can't."

"You're not on your own, okay? You have Bucky, and you have me. You can always talk to me about this stuff. God knows I talked your ear off about Cameron."

You laugh softly, thinking back to that day that feels both like yesterday and a million years ago.

"Where is he tonight?"

"Out with his boys. It's good for us to spend a few hours apart."

You smile at the happiness that's radiating off her. She's glowing, beaming in all directions.

"Thanks, Lace. I love you. You know that right?"

"Of course I do. I love you too. So much," she leans forward to kiss your cheek. "Now let's have one hell of a last girls night, shall we?"

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

You've lost track of exactly where you are.

You know you're downtown somewhere, in one of the bars. This one smells like wood and whiskey, lowlit and smoky. You hit the cocktail bar first, then the one covered in leopard print, then the monochrome pink one. Now, you're here.

The six of you are sat at a booth, high heels tangled and legs intertwined under the table. The wood is sticky with lemon wedges from tequila shots, salt scattered across the surface.

"If you find any hot west coast men, will you send them my way?" Reese asks, nudging you with her shoulder.

"And if you find any hot west coast women, will you send them mine?"

Everyone laughs, the scent of perfume filling the air.

"Rosa, what happened to Aubrey? We liked her!"

"Caught her kissing my ex girlfriend. So now they're both my ex girlfriends."

"Jesus Christ."

"Man, that's rough," Lacie giggles next to you.

The other girls continue to talk about Aubrey's infidelity as Lacie leans to whisper in your ear.

"Have you said goodbye to Bucky yet?"

You nod.

"Yesterday. I stayed the night, we fell asleep together. Said our goodbyes in the morning. It was awful."

"Love you," she whispers, squeezing your hand under the table.

"Love you too," you reply, squeezing back.

"There's a table of super hot guys over there," Maggie observes, tilting her head in their direction. "Maybe we should conveniently dance that way in a little while."

You don't bother to look over, knowing that none of them will compare to your soulmate. The other girls seem interested, though, so you smile along with them.

"Babe," Sam hisses, kicking you under the table. "There's a hot guy at that table, three o'clock, that keeps staring at you."

You glance over, and your heart stutters in your chest.

Bucky.

His blue eyes pierce your soul, even from across the room. For a moment, it's only the two of you, all the noise forgotten.

You're snapped back to reality by Sam.

"Fuck, he's hot. If you don't want him, I do."

"You should talk to him," Lacie suggests quickly. "Why not, right?"

She's practically pushing you out of the booth, high school wrestler style. In another life, you think, she would have made a good football player. All five foot four of her.

You walk past his table, eyes still locked on him, and towards the bathrooms. You know he'll follow you. You walk to the end of the hallway and out of the door, into the fresh night air.

You feel him appear before you see him. You lean your body against the wall, head resting on the cold brick. Bucky stands in front of you, shirt stretched across his shoulders gorgeously.

"Hi."

"Hi, honey baby."

You smile softly at the nickname.

"What are you doing here?"

"I got dragged to a boys night. What are you doing here?"

"I got dragged to a girls night."

He laughs, and all the tension melts from your muscles.

"Thought we said our goodbyes. I didn't think I'd see you again before I left."

"Me too. But you know the Universe. It hates us."

"Cosmic karma," you whisper.

The two of you stand down the alleyway, looking at each other carefully. Neither of you wants to spook the other person. You'd processed your leaving, said your emotional goodbyes. And now he's here, standing in front of you. You don't want to have to do it all again.

"I should probably get back inside, before the girls get the wrong idea."

"Baby, I followed you to the bathroom. They've already got the wrong idea."

You chuckle, kicking at a rock on the ground.

"Yeah. I don't know how I'm gonna explain this."

A smile. A pause.

"I'll let you get back to your friends, then."

You lean up to press a kiss to his stubbled cheek.

"Bye, Buck."

"Bye, pretty girl."

You push off the wall and walk away towards the door. Suddenly, a warm hand wraps around your wrist, yanking you into a solid chest.

Bucky kisses you like a man possessed. There's nothing gentle about it - just pure, unadulterated passion. It's all teeth and tongue and nipping and biting, neither of you willing to be the first to pull away.

He walks you back into the wall, pushing you against the rough brick. You hike a leg up onto his hip as he grabs your thigh to pull you closer, desperate to feel all of you. Your hands are in his hair, around his neck, tangled in his collar, his shirt, his belt loops. Anything you can get your hands on, you grab.

A distant chorus of cheers break you out of your lust fuelled haze. A bachelorette party walks by, one of the women winking at you as they go. You and Bucky take a step away from each other, straightening out your clothes and fixing your hair.

"Promise me you'll call me if you need anything," Bucky murmurs, leaning to rest his forehead on yours.

"I promise," you whisper, almost against his lips. "Goodbye, Bucky."

"Goodbye, honey girl."

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

The salty ocean wind whips through your hair, sun beating down onto your skin, some upbeat pop song humming from the radio. You keep your eyes glued to the road in front of you, begging yourself not to look back. You know if you do, you'll turn the car around and run straight back into Bucky's arms.

Let the happiness seep through, you remind yourself, gripping the steering wheel.

Let the happiness seep through.

tag list part one -

@lillytracy6996 @securegorgon @roostersforevergirl @povlvr @val-writesstuff  @dreadfulxives18 @1deadpool26 @abbygraceasd @nyutasgirl @mavrellover91 @winterslove1917 @f-this42 @skewedcherries @noisesinthedark @kandis-mom @black-cat-2 @harrystylesandthegoobs @vladsgirlxx @h0nestly-though @arienotari @nash-dara   @wandaneedstherapy @galaxy-dusk @justherefortheficandsmut @cremebruleequeen   @cjand10 @buggy14 @avengers-fixation @blueberrybambi @beautiful-loserr @sarah1barnes @miss-rebel-without-applause @ragingrainbowshipl @shamrockqueen @savemeroman @jenn-f @8crazy-freak8 @daddyjackfrost @openup-yourmind @adangerousbalance  @mandijo17 @daddylorianisastateofmind @rcarbo1 @casa-boiardi @spideegwen @navs-bhat @mssbridgerton @asuni921 @middle-of-the-earth @mfrnchsk

[notjustjavierpena]

I just wanted to come on here and say that I really appreciate you choosing to write about wife’s strained relationship with her family. As someone also struggling with that part of their life it’s beautiful to see that even if one part of your life is not great one can find beauty and love in another and create their own family.

The life that Javi and Wife have build together is an immense privilege to read.

Solace (Drabble)

Series Masterpost | Main Masterpost | Support a disabled creator

A/N: Hi anon, I have gotten a few of these messages a few times and it makes me wonder if they are from the same person. If not, it feels incredibly privileged to give people this kind of comfort through fiction. I tried writing a little drabble for you, and I hope that you like it. I’m so sorry that your family cannot see how amazing you are 💖

Summary: A certain kind of sorrow hits you when you are alone with your infant son for the first time.

Pairing: Javier Peña x f!reader/you (no y/n)

Tags: Angst, hurt/comfort, exploration of strained relationship with family, non-descriptive talk about emotional neglect, kisses, tears and eternal love.

Word count: 1.5k

Link to this work on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/52937182/chapters/152266855

Solace

It’s been a long day. That’s all there is to say when Javier walks through the door with a cheerful smile as he sees you on the couch, cross-legged and rocking newborn Lucas in your arms as he sleeps soundly.

It has been a week of being trapped inside a blissful baby bubble together, cocooned in the wonder of being a family of three for the first time. However, today the reality of everyday life has finally caught up with you both. It has been the first time you have been without your husband here to help and at the same time, you haven’t been alone with your thoughts since earning your new role as a mother yet.

You hate to see Javier’s smile falter as tears fall from your eyes in relief from seeing him, have never wanted to be the reason he doesn’t smile when reunited with you and his baby boy. It has probably been on his mind since he locked up the sheriff’s office.

He doesn’t say a word, just drops his bag and crosses the room in what seems to be only a few long strides. When he reaches you, he drops down to one knee on the floor next to you on the couch. He is so sweet when he brushes a tear from your cheek, catching one that threatens to drop onto Lucas’ onesie too.

“You did so well today,” he praises softly, switching to use the back of his hand when several teardrops start to roll down your already streaked face. He finds that it isn’t enough and quickly unbuttons the sleeve on his dress shirt with his teeth to use the fabric to dab your face dry, “Shh, baby, I’m here now.”

You wish it was only the exhaustion of being alone with Lucas the whole day that was bearing down on you but it is not. Instead, it is a much deeper ache that has racked through your body and soul today, an ache that you’ve known for years and do not know how to soothe.

“I missed you,” you whisper to Javier. You let out a shaky breath, trying to hold it together in case a sob will disturb Lucas in his sleep. He sleeps on so peacefully, completely unaware of the overwhelming emotions in the room. You reach to run your finger over his little cheek, admiring the faint dark hair on his head.

In front of you, Javier pushes himself off the ground to sit beside you on the couch. He looks at you with a gentle understanding in his eyes and then down at his son before wrapping an arm around your back. You tilt your head to rest it on his shoulder, becoming more aware of his warmth.

“I missed you too, Mamá. You’re exhausted, let me take him,” he whispers back, rubbing your arm soothingly, “Has it been that crazy today?”

“No, it’s been fine,” you say quickly because it is the truth; Lucas is an easy baby compared to so many stories that other people have been telling you in preparation, thinking that they’re being helpful. You gently make the transfer, careful not to drop his head and shift him into Javier’s arms, “He’s been so good to me.”

“But?” Javier cradles his infant son in his arm while the other still wraps around you.

“But I didn’t expect… to miss my mom,” you reply with shame coating your voice. You feel Javier’s hand stop tracing your arm, his body pulling slightly away from you to look at you properly. There’s a questioning look on his face, furrowed brows.

“Your mom?” He asks in confusion.

“Yeah, well… not her, clearly,” you clarify with a little embarrassed smile that won’t convince anyone that you’re not hurting from saying it like that, “I just realized how alone I am in this. And I’m not saying that you’re not doing enough but… I just wish I had a mom who was different.”

Javier doesn’t reply for a moment, patiently waiting for you to elaborate without judgment on his face. You swallow thickly, “I’ve been alone all day and I kept wishing she could be the kind of mother who would come over and hold Lucas while I take a nap, who would reassure me that I’m doing it right, that I’m a good enough mom.”

You hear Javier say your name softly while you look down into your lap, a feeling of relief and sadness mixing together in your chest. It feels good to say it but it doesn’t fix the gaping pain in your heart of what could have been. You pick at your fingers and finally, tears start to fall down onto your shirt, no longer able to drip onto your baby, “I just… It would have been really nice to have had a mom who felt like I feel about Lucas.”

Javier drags you closer. You automatically curl up beside him, pulling your legs up onto the couch and turning your body towards your husband. You reach out for Lucas to brush a hand over his stomach, his little mouth hanging open and his chest moving steadily.

“I look at Luke and I just instinctively think that I would do anything to keep him from hurting. Why didn’t she feel like that? Why did I get the mom who hurt me?” You babble through silent tears, once more keeping a sob at bay for your son, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t even sit here and complain. I know it’s not fair— at least, I have a mom, and you—“

Javier’s fingers that have been resting on your arm slide up to cradle the side of your head, guiding you to fall carefully into him until he can press his lips to your temple. He takes a breath and sighs, “You’re not all alone in wanting more. We can both grieve what we didn’t have. Even if it’s for different reasons.”

“I know,” you look down at Lucas with softening eyes, wiping a few tears away but they’re just replaced with new ones, “But what if I am bound to become her? I sometimes feel like she’s contaminated me.”

Yet as you have said those words, Lucas makes a noise in his sleep and you are on him in less than a second. You reach to put your finger in his small flexing hand, a rush of dopamine flowing through you from merely touching him. You smile through tears.

Javier says your name again to get your attention. He also shifts slightly so he can lift your head by your chin, eyes sure as he talks, “How you feel… I know I can’t fix it, but I can tell you that you are the mom he needs and deserves. Every worry or sleepless night you endure for him is proof of that. You are doing so well by just being there.”

“Javi,” you whimper with a trembling voice.

“I’m not done. Listen to me,” he interrupts you before you can tear his words apart, “He’ll never wonder how much you love him. Not with the way you’re looking at him right now, not with how you reach for him the second he needs you. You think you are your past? If anything, you’ve taught me the exact opposite.”

His hand lets go of your chin to cup your chin. He brushes a tear away and leans in to rest his forehead against yours. You finally find the right words when you’ve released a breath you didn’t know you were holding, “That’s how I feel about you. That I never doubt how much you love me, not with how you’re looking at me right now.”

Javier smiles at you and you feel your heart flutter, nearly melting into the cushions as he replies, “Tú y yo para siempre, mi amor (You and me forever, my love).”

“Thank you,” you whisper and the tears on your face turn into gratitude in an instant. You give him a soft kiss on his mouth before the two of you sit in comfortable silence for a while on the couch together.

Lucas starts to stir fifteen minutes later. His tiny face scrunches up before he opens his mouth and lets out a soft fuss, yawning with the whole of his body. You reach instinctively for him but Javier tuts at you.

“Let me take care of him for a while, Mamá,” he says with a tone in his voice that always reassures you. Despite the intense desire to protest, you can feel your body already giving in at the idea of getting a break and the emotions from just a moment ago have tired you out.

“Okay,” you nod hesitantly and it earns you a loving kiss from your husband before he gets up. As he leaves you to sleep, you can hear him murmur softly to his son, mentioning you in the midst of his one-sided conversation. It sets it in stone; everything will be just fine and if Lucas were to forget you in the little time that you are apart, Javier will be there to remind him of you.

.

.

If you would like to follow my writing then go follow @notjustjavierpena-fics and turn on notifications 💖❤️

[corvusphilia]

★ HOW THEY ACT WHEN THEY HAVE A CRUSH (KARASUNO EDITION)

୨ৎ featuring: daichi sawamura, koshi sugawara, asahi azumane, yuu nishinoya, ryunosuke tanaka, tobio kageyama, shoyo hinata, kei tsukishima, tadashi yamaguchi, keishin ukai

୨ৎ notes: first post!! rq are open guys send shit IN (omg haikyuu blog in 2024!!???). also yes i plan on writing crush headcanons for the other teams as well :>

also worth mentioning this is NOT timeskip and reader is implied to be around the same age as the characters (so highschool for most and adult for ukai)

i was gonna write for the girls as well but ive been writing this for the past 4 days and im tired 😭

★ DAICHI SAWAMURA ?!

He genuinely thinks acting like he's your dad or something is a good way of flirting. Sugawara teases him about it constantly. "Do you want to ask them out on a date or to sign adoption papers?"

And I don't mean it only in the cute way. He will scold you if you forget your jacket or something. But the words quickly catch in his throat when he gives you his and you put it on for the first time. Maybe you should keep forgetting yours, actually. For no reason. No reason at all.

Will bring extra food in case you're still hungry by the end of recess. Even makes mental notes about your favorites. This guy is a GENTLEMAN.

While he does reprimand you, it's nothing like he does to his team or his friends. In fact, he seems to calm down whenever you come into the picture. Nishinoya and Tanaka absolutely take advantage of it.

Suga might be the vice-captain, but the team treats you like the second in command. Doesn't matter if you're not part of the team or even a manager. You're now the second parent by correlation.

Speaking of which, Sugawara and Asahi absolutely play wingmen. Suga will come off a bit too strongly, talking about how Daichi is such a catch and you two would make such a cute couple, while Asahi sounds like he's doing a job interview in Daichi's name, listing all his positive qualities and whatnot. Their hearts are in the right place, at least.

He doesn't hesitate much before asking you out. He doesn't want to risk ruining your friendship, but he doesn't want to live with the regret of what could have been if he gave it a shot, either.

The sun was lazily setting in the horizon, painting the sky pleasant hues of orange and pink. It wasn't unusual for Daichi to walk you home — he insisted on it whenever he had the time, even he meant he would only get to his house past nightfall —, but he was weidly quiet. He smiled calmly when you questioned him on it, giving you a look and a sigh.

He came to a stop, standing in front of you. He took a deep breath before reaching into his bag, grabbing what looked like a note and holding it in both hands before stretching it towards you and bowing politely. His grasp was slightly shaky.

"I've been meaning to ask you this for a while..." He started, his voice soft, keeping his gaze on the ground. Maybe he was just being overly polite, or maybe he was a bit too scared to look you in the eyes. "You make me... incredibly happy, Y/N. I would like to do the same for you. If you'll let me, that is." He finally glanced up, looking at you through his eyelashes and his posture still low, his eyes filled equally with nervousness and hope. "I don't want to leave any doubts, so... I'll just go ahead and say it. Will you be mine?"

★ KOSHI SUGAWARA ?!

This guy is so whipped, it's not even funny. He doesn't even officially ask you out because he makes it so obvious he likes you. Like, c'mon, EVERYONE can tell he wants to marry you already.

The type to run up to you just to give you something he grabbed or bought because it made him think of you. Which happens very often, because he thinks of you all the time.

Very affectionate. Holds your hand whenever you two walk somewhere and hugs you as a greeting and as goodbye. Might even slip in a kiss on your cheek if he's feeling a little silly.

And god forbid some poor bastard mentions your name in a five mile radius of him. This motherfucker will take any chance he can get to yap about how amazing you are and how much he adores you and—

SO supportive. Genuinely, he thinks you're so talented in everything you do. If you have a specific thing you're passionate about, be ready for him to be bragging to everybody about it. More proud of your accomplishments than his own.

Straight up introduces you to people as his significant other after some time. What? He never asked to be your boyfriend? Well, it's not like you were gonna say no anyway, so...

"Y/N!" The cold winter air causes little wisps of smoke to form from his mouth as he runs over to you through the courtyard, an infectious smile on his face. He stops right in front of you, resting his hands on his knees for just a few seconds to catch his breath before holding out a bouquet in your direction. Roses, baby's breath, and cornflowers.

His smile grows even more when you grab it, a snicker escaping him at the slightly flushed look on your face. "So pretty, right? I saw it and thought of you, so obviously I had to get it." He explains, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. "Don't look at the price tag, I forgot to take it off." He adds.

He waves a hand dismissively at your 'thank you'. "Don't mention it. What kind of boyfriend would I be if I didn't get you something nice every now and then?" He mentions casually, and lets out a thoughtful hum when you mention that you two are, in fact, not officially dating.

"I guess I did never outright say it, huh? That's my mistake." For some reason, he doesn't sound bothered or reluctant at all. Instead, he grabs your hand in his, giving it a gentle squeeze. "Well, no reason to waste even more time. Come on, let me take you on our first official date."

★ ASAHI AZUMANE ?!

He doesn't flirt, let's get that out of the way. His idea of hitting on you is looking at you from a distance while praying you have more balls than him and will take initiative.

If you don't really know each other much, he's scared you'll be put off by his appearance and size. If you do, he's scared you think he's too much of a coward and have no interest.

His insecurities play a huge role in his reluctance. He thinks you're so pretty, and smart, and talented, and he's... well, himself. It's almost difficult to tell if he likes you or not, because while he is polite whenever you interact, he acts that way with everyone (who takes the time to actually speak with him, that is), and he actually seems to avoid you whenever possible, too.

Gets desperate enough he asks everyone in the team for advice. Daichi just says to "Be yourself", to which Suga gives him a side eye with a "Yeah, I don't think that'll work" comment, and the two start arguing rather than actually helping the poor guy out.

Nishinoya and Tanaka are... less than helpful, as you might imagine. Kageyama and Hinata don't know the first thing about dating, and he wasn't about to ask Tsukishima, either. Surprisingly (or not), the good advice came from Yagamuchi and Kiyoko.

It basically summed up to the fact that he needs to make his move before someone else does. Nothing too dramatic, but enough to let you know he's serious about it. At the end of the day, they had a 5 steps plan written out.

He had everything set to go, even went as far as to memorize a script he practiced in front of the mirror a few times this morning. However, when he finally stood in front of you, the sun of the afternoon hitting your features just right, his mind went blank.

"Huh..." He was slightly hunched over, absentmindedly fidgeting with the hem of his shirt. He quickly cleared his throat, seemingly remembering he couldn't just stand there looking at you like a creep, and reached inside his bag to pull out a small, heart-shaped chocolate box. He took a deep, shaky breath.

"I-I, huh... I need to tell you something..." He starts nervously, his brown eyes finally meeting yours, filled with fear and sincerity. "I... I've liked you for a while now, and..." That is not the script he planned out. "You're always on my mind. W-when I'm with you, everything just feels right. I don't really know how to say this, I'm probably making a fool out of myself, but... I like you. A lot."

★ YUU NISHINOYA ?!

This fucking guy has no shame whatsoever. Quite literally asked you to go out with him before he even told you his name. I firmly believe he's a love-at-first-sight kind of dude.

Now, how things progress depends highly on your reaction. If you're a bit shy, he thinks it's the cutest thing ever, but he will take it down a notch to not make you uncomfortable. Will still flirt, don't get me wrong, but a bit more lowkey. If you just accept or — god forbid — flirt back, he shortcuts. A hot person?? Likes HIM??? WHAT.

Like, all of his previous bravado is out the window if you accept. He flirts with a few people, sure, but he never actually expects to go anywhere. It's just kind of a fact that he's going to get turned down. So when things actually go right he doesn't know what to do anymore.

It doesn't last too long, though. After he takes a few minutes for his mind to process what just happened, he's bouncing off the walls.

SO protective. We've seen it with Kiyoko. Anytime a guy looks at you for just a little too long he's growling and foaming at the mouth. Better keep him from biting anyone's ankles.

"Wow, you're SUPER pretty!" The boy stated enthusiastically, stars in his eyes as he stares at you intently, seemingly trying to commit every detail to memory. You've seen him around, usually near the gym, but it looks like this is the first time he has seen you.

He takes a step closer, determination written all over his face. "Will you go out with me?" He asks a bit loudly and suddenly. When your face flushes, he takes a small step back, chuckling. "Ah— I'm Yuu Nishinoya, by the way! Probably should've said that first."

He nods happily when you introduce yourself as well, his eagerness returning to the surface. "Well, you didn't really answer me, so I'll ask again — wanna go out with me?" He repeats, half cocky half sheepish. However, his entire face falls when you give a positive response.

His eyes are wide and he just stares at you, mouth slightly agape. When you question if he's feeling well, his ears flush red as he seems to have find his voice again. "A-ARE YOU SERIOUS!? You said yes!? Wha— am I dreaming? I'm dreaming, aren't I!?" Despite the disbelief in his voice, he's smiling — a huge, excited, thankful smile. He's not leaving your side anytime soon.

★ RYUNOSUKE TANAKA ?!

Since I already covered love at first sight with Noya and we've already seen how he's like with Kiyoko, I'm going down a different route: friends to lovers. Also because this specific trope with him makes me SICK /pos.

He's a friendly guy when you get to know him and past his badboy persona, so he has many friends I feel like. He initially treats you like he does the others, being his usual weird ass self we all know and love.

But one time he sees you laugh at one of his shenanigans and he just pauses. Oh. Oh. This is not good.

Have you always been so pretty? I mean, he already knew you were, but this is another level. Now you're like, angelic. Ethereal, even. What just happened.

Immediately runs to Noya because he doesn't know what to do or even think. He just sees you as a friend, right? A close friend. A hot, funny, amazing, kissable friend. Yeah, that doesn't sound right even to him when he says it outloud.

Doesn't take long for him to come to terms with it honestly and the entire team has to hold him back from proposing to you the next time he sees you.

He waits by the classroom's door, an uncharacteristically nervous look in his eyes. He sucks in a sharp breath when the bell rings and you stand from your desk, slinging your bag over your shoulder while making your way to the exit. "Y/N." He calls out to gain your attention, and his face immediately flushes when you look at him.

Your eyes are so beautiful it's unfair. He lets out a breath he didn't realize he was holding in. "Will you ma—" He pauses, looking at something right behind you. You look back to see Nishinoya half-hiding behind a wall, shaking his head 'No' quickly. Tanaka clears his throat and you look back at him. "... I-I mean, will you... Go out with me? Maybe? Please?"

He sounds almost pleading and a little unsure. He stutters an explanation when he notices your taken aback expression. "I know this came outta nowhere and I know we're like, best buds or whatever, but... God, I really wanna kiss you." His face goes bright red when he realizes what he just said and he starts rambling another flustered excuse. How cute.

★ TOBIO KAGEYAMA ?!

A little like Asahi, he just kind of stares at you from a distance and hope you get the hint. Totally unware of the fact he has a major resting bitch face and is looking at you so aggressively it looks like he's thinking about beating your ass after school or something.

Completely oblivious to the fact he likes you. He's never liked anyone before. His entire life has always been volleyball this and volleyball that — he doesn't know the first thing about crushes.

Surprisingly thoughtful, though. The type to get you your favorite drink from the vending machine when he goes to grab his milk box. He doesn't even think much about it, it's just so natural to him.

Also very perceptive. He comes off as an airhead most of the time, but when it comes to volleyball, he's incredibly observant. Now he's the same way with you as well. Always knows what you're feeling before you have to say anything or if you need something.

And that's how everyone else realizes he likes you and tell him about it (because again, he genuinely could not tell that his feelings are romantic on his own. How can someone be so smart and so dumb at the same time).

He's in denial for a good while, but the more he thinks about it, the more sense it makes. Some teammates try to give him advice (because they don't trust him at all to do this by himself), but in the end he ignores all of it and just says what feels right at the time.

"I swear, you'd be helpless without me." He grumbles, dragging you away from the confrontation, his hand firmly but not tightly wrapped around your wrist. Karasuno had a game against another school, and one of the guys from said school apparently thought you were really cute. So much so he was trying everything to get your contact information before Tobio stepped in.

Just thinking about the situation pisses him off. He scoffs, squeezing your wrist slightly, but there's something more than just frustration on his face. Doubt, perhaps? He looks back at you, eyebrows furrowed. "You weren't really thinking about giving him your number, were you?" He asks, his voice almost too soft before it rises in tone again.

"I mean, he's average looking at best, and a shit player, and... And I'm better!" He blurted, cheeks flushing slightly. He averts his gaze, his thumb grazing over your knuckles. "So... Just give me your number, dumbass."

★ SHOYO HINATA ?!

I need to mention, he looks like he's so easy to fall in love with. Like he's so kind and considerate and with a high emotional intelligence. Very much boyfriend material I wish more people would see him like that instead of an uwu baby yk.

Anyway, back on track. I feel like he'd fluctuate between shy and bold a lot. Like, if you flirt or give hints that you might like him back, he's blushing and kicking his feet and shit, but it is very much not uncommon for him to take initiative.

Especially after matches. The adrenaline is still pumping in his veins and he barely even registers that maybe he's being a bit forward.

If you don't know him really well it's a bit difficult to tell that he has feelings because he's just. so nice. to everyone. But if you do, it's hard to miss the tenderness in his eyes everytime he looks at you.

Insists you come to his games. It's simple math in his head: the two things he loves the most (aside from, yknow, his mom and sister and all that) are volleyball and you, so if he can just mix them together, he'll be the happiest guy in the planet.

It was a tough game — Karasuno barely managed to win right during the last set. The winning point was, of course, scored by Shoyo. The crowd was cheering, his teammates screaming loudly and gathering around him, but in the middle of the ruckus, his eyes are fixated on a single someone.

He dodged Nishinoya and Tanaka and, to the team's confusion, ran towards the stands. It wasn't until everyone say you simultaneously running in his direction that they understood what was going on. Shoyo practically pounced on you, wrapping his arms around your torso tightly and doing his best to lift you and give you a little spin, almost knocking both of you to the ground in his attempt.

His smile was bright enough to outshine the sun. He pulled away just a little so he could look you in the eyes, the two of you still intertwined. "Thank you so much for being here!" He exclaimed, like his success was solely due to you — to your presence. The look in his eyes was a little different as he leaned in slightly before hesitating. Daichi called him over so they could formally bid farewell to the other team, and he gave you a final squeeze before reluctantly pulling away. "Wait for me, okay? I'll walk you home today!"

★ KEI TSUKISHIMA ?!

This fucking guy is so in denial. No, I'm serious, he'd rather eat glass than admit that he likes somebody. He's always seen relationships and especially crushes as a waste of time and energy, things he couldn't be bothered to spare.

So he's extra mean when he realizes he likes you. Is it an attempt to push you away? Kind of. Is it because he genuinely kind of hates you for the way you make him feel? A little. Is it because he's secretly an awkward motherfucker that doesn't know a thing about how to be romantic? Mostly.

News flash: it doesn't work, independently of your reaction. If you just ignore him and don't give him a reaction, he's frustrated but grows to respect you even more for dealing with his sassy ass with that much grace. If you get sad, he feels genuinely bad for the first time in his life. If you get angry, turns out you look really damn cute when pissed off and that's not helping his case either. If you sass him back, he might just get on one knee.

So he just... gives up. He still teases and pokes fun at you, obviously, but now it doesn't sound as mean. If anything, it's friendly banter. He can't deny that he enjoys having you around.

It raised some eyebrows when Tsukishima told everyone he was leaving practice early because he was helping you study. Hinata and Kageyama had to practically get on their knees and beg him to tutor them, and even then, he always looked so annoyed doing it. With you, he almost had a little smile on his face. Almost.

He snapped his fingers in front of your face a few times. "Hey, idiot, pay attention." He scolded, pointing back to the open book in front of you. "I'm not explaining it a second time." He added, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms, his long legs stretched out in front of him.

He can't help the small grin that forms on his face when you whine about his 'mean' treatment. "You haven't seen me being mean yet, pipsqueak." He teased, looking down at you through his glasses. He exhales through his nose in an almost-laugh, his voice dropping just barely over a whisper, a tenderness in his tone you're not really familiar with. "You're lucky I kinda like you."

★ TADASHI YAMAGUCHI ?!

Dude is SO flustered around you, like, constantly. Like can-barely-get-a-sentence-out typa shit. Kei has to verbally smack him and tell him to fucking get it together — he's not gonna win you over by being a wuss (or maybe he will, who knows what you're into).

But that's mostly during the honeymoon stage. After the butterflies in his stomach start to go away, they're replaced by a deep sense of comfort whenever he's around you.

Takeda said that Tadashi would have the least trouble out of everyone when it came to dating and he was RIGHT. This guy is such a sweetie. Always saving you a seat and sharing his lunch with you and just watching out for you in general. He's so considerate :(

You make him not so insecure anymore and that's all he could have asked for. Whenever he messes up or just acts like a dork, he feels his heart drop thinking that he messes up any chance he might have had with you, but when you just smile and reassure him he falls in love all over again.

Tadashi has been profusely apologizing to you for the past fifteen minutes now, no matter how many times you tried to insist that it's fine. He was practicing his serves and you were unfortunate enough to get a ball right to the back of the head, and he rushed you to the nurse's office immediately despite you saying it didn't hurt that much.

"I'm so sorry, I promise it was an accident!" He said for what must have been the third time. There wasn't much that the nurse could do aside from giving you headache medicine and telling you to lie down for a while, and he decided to miss practice so he could stay with you while you rested.

"Does it hurt?" He questioned, his eyes soft and full of worry, and his shoulders tensed a little at your answer of 'kinda'. He grabbed your hand, idly playing with your fingers, either to calm you or himself down. "... I want to make it up to you somehow." He stated gently, not daring to look at you. "... I'll walk you home and buy you a snack from the convenience store, okay? You can ask for whatever you want, no matter the price." He paused, then added with a sheepish smile, "Well... Maybe the price matters a little bit."

★ KEISHIN UKAI ?!

Listen. He definitely looks like he has rizz. Does he actually? No. Absolutely not. Like, he has so much negative rizz it does a full spin and actually works out. Absolute man failure.

Deadass the kind to do that yawn and arm around your shoulder thing and think he's nailing it. Like, dude you're not THAT old, c'mon now.

Fluctuates between being a gentleman and just being a scrub a lot. Will open the car door and pull a chair for you only to light up a cigarette and not notice the smoke is going straight in your direction until you start coughing.

He does try, though. Definitely makes an effort to take you on a nice date whenever his money allows it (and sometimes when it doesn't). He's had flings before, sure, but you're special and he doesn't want to mess it up like he always does.

You barely heard the doorbell ringing with the sound of the rain hitting your roof. When you opened it, Keishin stood there, absolutely drenched in a dress shirt and an undone tie around his neck, water dripping down from his hair to his face as he holds out a bouquet in your direction. He sighs deeply.

"I wanted to surprise you, but my car broke down halfway here and then this fuckin' rain hit." He explained, rubbing the back of his neck. You told him to come inside and grabbed him a towel, and he started to dry his hair before sitting on the couch when he was sure he wasn't dripping water all over the place anymore.

He glanced at you, a somewhat guilty look on his face. "... Sorry I messed it up. I wanted to do something nice for once, but..." He trailed off. You sat next to him, a hand on his shoulder as you reassured him it was okay. When you suggested watching a movie since he was already here anyway, he perked up, almost like an invisible tail started wagging behind him. "Really?" He questioned, a bit baffled before trying to hold back a smile as he relaxed next to you, reaching an arm around your shoulders. "... That doesn't sound half bad, doll face."

© ─ corvusphilia ; do not steal, copy, edit, translate or reupload

thanks for reading!

[kivino]

PROFESSOR!NANAMI KENTO X READER HEADCANONS

my jjk masterlist || my cod masterlist

Word counter - 900-ish

Tags/Warnings - NSFW - MDNI; professor x student relationships; reader is an academic weapon (or not really); p in v freak nasty; oral (reader receiving); afab!reader.

A/n - my first time in a long time writing smut, so i hope it’s decent ♪(๑ᴖ◡ᴖ๑)♪ please, like and reblog if you liked it, i’m trying to find my jjk audience （╹◡╹）♡

Professor!Nanami, who went into education instead of pursuing a job of a salaryman and surprisingly, found it rather fulfilling, helping students, explaining the nuances of classical literature to them and igniting the passion for his subject of study among them.

Professor!Nanami, who’s eyes keep lingering on you, despite his effort to force his gaze away from you, so beautiful, incredibly insightful and hardworking, pages upon pages of messy notes under your fingers.

Professor!Nanamix, who recognizes your efforts, fond look in his eyes when your answer to his question strikes a chord within him, making his heart swell in his chest. “Good job. I see you’re already familiar with the material, are you?” He asks, arching his brow at you, as he puts his hand on your desk for some support, his tall form towering over you, making you hold your breath from a simple glance of his hazel, almost golden eyes.

Professor!Nanami, who, upon seeing you through the glass doors of the study hall freezes in his place, his eyes taking in your every movement, down to the flutter of your eyelashes and quick fingers turning another page of your notes.

Professor!Nanami, who lets out a shaky exhale when you bite your pen, lips squishing against the tip of it so deliciously, oblivious to your infatuated observer.

Professor!Nanami, who can’t refuse you a conversation after class, getting lost in your eyes, dissecting your mannerisms and patterns of speech in his thoughts during his evening rides back home, just to find some sort of sign that you might like him more than as an educator.

Professor!Nanami, who can’t help but palm his hardening dick through his slacks when remembering your absolutely stunning doe eyes looking at him with such eagerness and fascination, when talking about his subject.

Professor!Nanami, who clasps a hand over his mouth and shuts his eyes tight, imagining it’s your thumb swirling around his red tip, and it’s your fingers clasping around his painfully hard member as you nip and kiss the soft skin of his exposed neck.

Professor!Nanami who, when noticing at your messy hair and ragged breathing after you’re late for class, has to squeeze his hand into a fist, blunt nails painfully digging into his skin just to keep him grounded.

Professor!Nanami, who feels nothing but shame, pining for his student like he’s some kind of pubescent high school boy.

Professor!Nanami, who just can’t say “no” to you, when you ask oh-so-nicely to help you and explain the final assignment privately, in his office. “Of course you can come in for a consultation. This card here has my office hours…” he nods eagerly, pulling out his business card holder from the inner pocket of his discarded jacket.

Professor!Nanami, who’s oblivious to a fault to how you’re leaning over him when asking for help, your soft hand connecting with his shoulder, fingers gently rubbing his arm and sending electric sparks right to his brain.

Professor!Nanami who makes you see stars on his tongue alone, devouring your pussy like it’s his last meal, fingers spreading you folds, soft lips leaving rough bites on your thighs and suffocating himself in you.

Professor!Nanam, whose hair you keep tugging for leverage, whose face you keep grinding into, desperate and hot from his passionate touches, aching for release, that he’s so nicely working you up to with his fingers and his mouth.

Professor!Nanami, who has you cross-eyed, fingers toying with your clit, halting your attempts to squirm away from his touch, overstimulated and needy, making your whole body twitch with uncontrollable surges of pleasure as you forget any words, but the name of your favorite professor.

Professor!Nanami, who wishes he would’ve taken you out on a nice date, perhaps a candlelit dinner at his favorite place, before having you with your legs spread out, whiny and sensitive on his office table, as his hand muffles your (very loud) moans. But what’s done is done.

Professor!Nanami, who marvels at the way your pretty tits bounce with each thrust of his cock in your drenched pussy, lewd, pornographic squelching and your pleasure-filled yelps filling the dark space of the room.

Professor!Nanami, who just can’t keep his mouth shut, when he’s looking at you. “Ah, hah, y-you’re, a-ah, doing so…m-mh! so well for me…” Nanami whispers, hot breath fanning over your ear, as he dives back, leaving wet kisses all over your neck, some of them swelling into rough, stinging markings, reminders from him.

Professor!Nanami, who keeps driving his cock inside of you, reaching so deep you’re barely able to form a thought when you all can feel is his broad tip giving such sweet kisses to your cervix.

Professor!Nanami, who after multiple hours of you getting to know each other so deeply and intimately in his office, your captivating smell still in his mind, gingerly asks you, while buttoning up your shirt: “Would you like to get dinner sometime with me?”

“Are you inviting me on a date?” you clarify, not able to hide your incredulous tone when asking this question. You knew that he was a gentleman, but had no idea he would want it to be something else…more than you imagined. Or he just felt obligated to do that, in which case…that’s worse.

“Precisely. I…it’s embarrassing to admit, really…” you mentally scoff. You just saw each other naked with every possible consequence of that also happening, and he’s…embarrassed? “But you’ve caught my eye. So, I’d like to invite you out. See where it goes.”

Well, how can you say “no” to your favorite professor?

check out this masterlist for more jjk fics or send me a request/comment!

[taurussbabe]

The Alchemy - LN4

a/n : hi guys, sorry for being so absent, i'm not totally back yet but i'm making a progress. Hope you like my first ever Lando fic! so happy he won! (also ignore if it's to bad, i'm out of practice and wrote this in 30 min.) wc: 0.6k inspo: the alchemy, by taylor swift (if you're a swiftie/ f1 fan hit me up)

Shirts off and your friends lift you up over their heads

Beer stickin' to the floor, cheers chanted 'cause they said

"There was no chance trying to be the greatest in the league"

Where's the trophy? He just comes runnin' over to me

“Lando Norris wins for the first time in formula 1” was the last thing you heard before you sprinted alongside the mechanics to wait for your boyfriend. You were thrilled for him, you knew how much he wanted this, how much he had fought for this, and you were so proud of him for never giving up and keeping his head high.

You knew it wasn’t easy for him to always see everyone commenting ‘Lando Nowins’ on every single one of his posts, everyone saying there was no chance for him to try and win, but you also knew this day would come, Miami GP will forever hold a special place in your heart.

You waited for what seemed like ages before you boyfriend came running over to team, all of them lifting him up over their heads. The atmosphere was immaculate, everyone laughing and chanting your boyfriend’s name, you couldn’t be prouder.

Finally, they placed him on firm ground and within the next second you felt his arms around you, holding you impossibly close to him, only to be separated a second later, far away enough for him to kiss you, but still close enough you could hear his shaky breathing.

“I knew you could do it, I knew it! I’m so so proud of you” you whispered after your lips separated. “Like, incredibly proud”

“Thanks, love, I’m so happy” he said, just like he had said on his radio after the race ended.

“Go, go celebrate” you patted him on his back before seeing him hug Zack and then Andrea.

You pulled out your phone to record him while he gave his interview before the podium, watching your boy with a smile on your face.

Soon enough you were hearing they announce the names of the top 3 drivers and you quickly grabbed your phone again to record this moment, your Instagram was going to be full of content that day, but you didn’t care, you were proud of your guy and you wanted to show it.

You watched in awe as Leclerc and Verstappen soaked your boyfriend in champagne, waiting patiently for him to do his thing with his own champagne.

-

You were in the paddock waiting for Lando to finish all of his interviews so you could go the hotel. You knew tonight you were gonna party like never before so you were already having a coffee although you still believed all the adrenaline would give you enough energy, but it’s better to be safe than sorry.

“Congrats to Lando, I assume we’re gonna party together tonight” Kelly came up behind you

“Yes, already getting ready for it” you lifted your cup of coffee “Now I know how you feel like every weekend” you joked.

“Pretty great uh?” you both laughed before saying your goodbyes.

-

You watched as your boyfriend came running to his garage, eyes searching in the crowd for you, dropping his trophy as he saw you and running towards you.

“I’m so glad you’re here” he whispered, picking you up and spinning you around.

“Nowhere else I’d rather be, love” you kissed his cheek “I mean it, this was great, incredible” you kissed his lips, you hand roaming through his hair.

yourusername

liked by kellypiquet, maxverstappen1, and 938 982 others

yourusername florida really is one hell of a drug! SO proud of you, you deserve it all! ❤️

[pastryfication]

Can you pretty please do a equestrian!reader x Max Verstappen? She fell off her horse while competing and is disappointed with herself and Max comforts her?

back on the horse | max verstappen

pairing: max verstappen x equestrian!reader. note: thank you for the request!! i hope you like it xx

the stadium buzzes with the low hum of the crowd, but all you can hear is the rush of your heartbeat in your ears. the course in front of you feels like an insurmountable challenge, but you've trained for this moment, poured every ounce of yourself into it. your horse, a powerful bay with a coat that glistens in the sunlight, shifts beneath you, sensing your nerves. you take a deep breath, trying to steady your shaking hands, and give a gentle squeeze with your legs. you’re both ready—or at least, you thought you were.

as you guide your horse toward the first jump, everything else fades away. it’s just you, your horse, and the course. the first few obstacles pass in a blur, your horse soaring over them with the grace and strength you know so well. but then it happens. a misstep, a moment of hesitation, and before you can even process it, you’re on the ground. the fall knocks the wind out of you, and for a split second, you just lie there, stunned. your horse snorts, trotting a few steps away, and you can feel the weight of the crowd’s silence pressing down on you.

someone’s calling your name, but it sounds distant, muffled by the roaring disappointment in your head. you’ve fallen before, but this time feels different. this time, you were supposed to succeed. this was supposed to be your moment.

by the time you’re helped to your feet, your horse is already being led away, unharmed but confused. you mutter something about being fine, about not needing help, but the truth is, you don’t know how to face what just happened. you can feel the tears burning in your eyes, but you blink them back, refusing to let them fall in front of everyone.

the first face you see when you step out of the ring is max’s. he’s waiting for you just outside the arena, his usual confident expression softened with concern. he’s seen you ride countless times, but this is the first time he’s seen you fall in competition. your heart sinks further at the thought of disappointing him, too.

“hey,” he says quietly, stepping forward to meet you. his voice is gentle, but it only makes the lump in your throat grow.

you manage a weak smile, trying to brush it off. “i blew it,” you whisper, hating how small your voice sounds. “i let everyone down.”

max shakes his head immediately, his eyes locking onto yours. “you didn’t let anyone down,” he says firmly. “falls happen. it’s part of the sport.”

“but not today,” you argue, the frustration and disappointment spilling over. “i was supposed to do well today, max. i’ve been working so hard, and now…” your voice cracks, and you have to look away, unable to bear the sympathy in his eyes.

he doesn’t say anything for a moment, just reaches out and gently pulls you into his arms. the embrace is warm, comforting, and you feel yourself relax just a little, the tension in your shoulders easing. max holds you like you’re the most important thing in the world, like your disappointment is something he wants to share, not dismiss.

“you’ve done so much already,” he murmurs against your hair. “one fall doesn’t change that. you’re incredible, and you’ll come back stronger.”

his words sink in slowly, wrapping around the raw edges of your pride. you know he means them. max wouldn’t say something just to make you feel better. he believes in you, even when you’re struggling to believe in yourself.

you take a shaky breath, burying your face in his chest, letting the familiar scent of him calm you. “i’m just so mad at myself,” you admit, your voice muffled against his shirt. “i wanted this so badly.”

“i know,” he replies softly, running a hand up and down your back in slow, soothing strokes. “and that’s what makes you such a great rider. you care so much. but sometimes, things don’t go the way we want, no matter how hard we try. it doesn’t make you any less amazing.”

you nod slowly, not quite ready to believe him but willing to try. max pulls back just enough to look at you, his hands resting on your shoulders. “besides,” he says, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips, “i’ve seen you fall before, and you always get back up. this time won’t be any different.”

his words bring a small smile to your face, and you feel some of the heaviness lift. max is right. you’ve fallen before, and you’ve always found a way to get back in the saddle, both literally and figuratively. this time won’t be the exception.

“thank you,” you whisper, leaning up to press a soft kiss to his cheek. “i don’t know what i’d do without you.”

he grins, that familiar spark returning to his eyes. “luckily, you won’t have to find out.”

as you stand there, wrapped in max’s embrace, the disappointment still lingers, but it doesn’t feel as overwhelming. with max by your side, you know you’ll find the strength to try again, to push through the setbacks and keep going. and the next time you enter that ring, you’ll do it with him in your corner, cheering you on every step of the way.

[froggywritesstuff]

hell is no place for a human | yandere!stolas

ship/pairing: yandere!stolas x human!g/n!reader

request: anon: Can I request a yandere stolas with a human reader trying to escape?

warnings: kidnapping, unwanted touching (nonsexual), crying, handcuffs

fandom: Helluva Boss

word count: 1143

A/N: Stolas is canonically gay so fem reader's DNI. i do not in any way support yandere behaviour, please know that this writing is purely fictional, and should not ever be reenacted in real life

You had come up with the perfect plan. Just follow the plan and you'd finally be free of the sharp talons Stolas constantly had digging into your shoulder. Unfortunately, the plan required you to be away from Stolas. Which you'd found to be nearly impossible. The demon prince was incredibly clingy, and seemed to always need to be with you. It was no use getting help either, as Stolas had ordered every guard to immediately return you to him if you ever tried to escape. He treated the imps decently, so you doubted they'd jump at the opportunity to defy him. So maybe your plan wasn't so perfect after all. But after that realisation, you added some extra steps to the plan in order to get Stolas away from you.

You were sat in Stolas’s lap as he cuddled you on his couch, trying not to shake in anticipation.

He was talking about something you weren’t paying attention to, until you cleared your throat, “Stolas, I need to go to the bathroom.”

He paused his rant for a moment, quickly sitting up, picking you and changing your position so you were sat in his lap facing him.

”Is everything ok darling?” 

You fought the urge to roll your eyes. He would act like the world was ending if you had a stomach ache. “Yes, I’m fine, I just need the bathroom.”

He nodded, seemingly relieved you weren’t sick, and he called out to one of the imps standing guard, “Escort them.” He ordered, setting you off his lap and onto the floor. He cupped your face and placed a kiss on your cheek, an action you had to hide your disgusted expression over.

You were promptly escorted to the bathroom - something you weren’t happy about - and locked the door behind you, immediately searching through the drawers. Eventually, you found a sharp enough object you could use, gripping it tight in your hand before you opened the bathroom door.

The imp guard stared at you with an unreadable expression, seemingly unfazed by you holding a weapon to him. You took a step back, “Don’t say a word to Stolas. Please.” you breathed out, before sprinting off through the halls of Stolas’s palace.

You knew your words would have no effect on the imp, who was probably already off to inform Stolas about you running away. All you could do was run.

Your legs burned as you sped through the palace halls, anxiety plaguing your mind with every second you were out of the palace. You had no idea what you’d do once you were free. Hell definitely wasn’t safe for a human, Stolas never failed to let you know that day after day. You didn’t want to think about what might happen to you if you got out, but you also couldn’t bear to think of what would happen if Stolas caught you. He put up a sweet, loving front, but you knew he’d have to get angry at something as bad as this. You just didn’t know how angry…

While running, you heard a loud, demonic screech, followed by loud crashing noises. Your pace instantly sped up, fear fueling you. You were so close, the pounding footsteps behind you making you sprint even faster. You turned a corner, almost able to see the palace doors, when a large claw gripped your shoulder tightly, roughly throwing you to the ground. You craned your neck to look behind you, eyes widened in fear as you met Stolas’s multiple burning red eyes. Despite his bigger and darker appearance, you knew it was Stolas. Breathless, you coughed, trying to lift yourself up with shaky hands, only for you to fall back down. You shook in fear as you heard footsteps nearing you. A soft, firm hand touched your shoulder, a big contrast from the previous violent scene.

”My love, are you hurt?” You flinched at Stolas’s voice, unnerved by how calm his voice was. He held your hand gently, helping you sit up, and you saw Stolas back to normal.

You stayed silent, attempting to read his concerned face to find any anger that might let you know if you were in danger. If he was angry to the point he might hurt you, he was hiding it extremely well.

He sighed, effortlessly picking you up and beginning to carry you. He stayed silent for the entire walk back to your shared room, which had you extremely on edge.

You didn’t even know how scared you were until you realised you were physically shaking in his grip, before he placed you on the bed.

”Y/N,” it was silent for so long, that the sound made you flinch, “why did you try to leave?”

You were silent. Any truthful answer you gave would just upset him more, which was the last thing you wanted to do.

He sighed, gently but firmly grabbing your jaw and lifting your head so you were looking at him, “Answer me when I ask you something. Why did you try to leave?”

You couldn’t take it anymore, tears poured from your eyes and you shook under his cold gaze, “I-I’m sorry Stolas, I’m sorry, I-I-I-“

”Y/N,” his voice was so sweet, like honey, “look at me.” his hand moved from your jaw to cup your cheek, using his thumb to wipe your tears, “Breathe, just breathe.”

You found yourself doing as he said, taking deep breaths and eventually calming yourself down enough to have a conversation with Stolas.

”Y/N, I shouldn’t need to tell you why you can’t be running away and going outside, you hear it from me everyday.” He said, grabbing handcuffs from his desk drawer and walking back toward you, making you shrink back in fear.

”Stolas, I-“

”But apparently, I do. Perhaps I overestimated your species. Perhaps I overestimated you. If you can’t listen to a simple instruction, it’s clear you’re in need of proper guidance. My guidance.” He took your arms, one at a time and handcuffed them to the bed frame. “My dear, you’re simply far too precious to be left unsupervised.” You swallowed nervously. If he thought constantly clinging to you and showering you with affection was leaving you unsupervised, you couldn’t imagine what he thought was the opposite. “And it appears I’ll have to be taking extra measures to keep you safe.”

You shook with fear, making the handcuffs rattle against the bed frame, "No- Stolas, what are you-"

"My dear, until I believe you've learnt your lesson, you will not be leaving this room."

"What?! Stolas you-"

"Y/N if you ever want to leave this room within the span of a month, I suggest you stay quiet."

You swallowed your words, immediately shrinking back. You'd never seen Stolas angry at you, and it wasn't something you wanted to keep seeing.

[kittyball23]

When you have time could you do a one shot of poppy fan girling over the fact that her bf is in two famous boy bands? I wish the movie gave a little more of it focused on him because the adoration is so cute to me.

Yes, here it is! :D

Surprise (a Trolls fanfic)

“Hey, Branch? It’s almost showtime, I was just thinking that maybe we could…”

The Pop Queen cut off her own question with an enormous gasp.

“WHHHHHAAAAAAT?!?!”

It was simply impossible for her to believe the sight in front of her. Granted, she knew some of what she would find when she ventured backstage to find her boyfriend. She knew of his brothers, and of how they were the sensational boyband known as BroZone. But what she did not at all anticipate were the four other Trolls who made up the other insanely popular boyband that there had been back in the day. 

And, recalling that that band had had five members - and seeing that her boyfriend was costumed to the same chic style they were wearing at that moment - it suddenly all made sense in a whirlwind of revelation.

“Kismet?” she exclaimed in a squeak, pointing a shaky hand at Branch. “You were in BroZone AND Kismet? And you… didn’t… tell me?!” She shot her gaze at the brothers. “Guys, did you know about this?”

They hurriedly denied.

“I’m just as surprised as you are, Pops,” John Dory admitted.

“Not a clue,” Bruce answered.

“Nope,” Clay said, putting his hands up and taking a couple steps back, while Floyd replied with a mystified “Uh-uh,” and a small shake of his head.

At this point, Poppy wasn’t even sure how she was still able to keep standing there - she was trembling so much from the excitement building up inside of her, she was just about ready to collapse!

Branch himself shrugged, keeping collected. “Surprise,” he chuckled.

Poppy couldn’t help herself anymore. Forgetting about everything but being filled with happiness - and not being able to coherently form any other sentences - she rushed forward and threw her arms around Branch’s neck, screaming in delight. Then, she rushed to hug each of his friends, taking Hype, Ablaze, Boom, and Trickee off guard with her uncontained enthusiasm and bone-crushing embrace. And then still, she leapt over towards JD, Bruce, Clay, and Floyd, hugging them for good measure, too!

Hype shook his blue head with a smirk. "Well, that's some girl you got there, Branch!" he exclaimed.

"And this is some sneaky secret-keeping boyband-extraordinaire boyfriend I've got!!" Poppy shouted, finding her voice again and nearly dizzying all nine men with all her jumping up-and-down on the spot. And now that she was speaking again, she couldn’t seem to stop! The words tumbled out of her a hundred miles a minute.

“This is incredible! I really really REALLY can’t believe this! I’m so excited I could SCREAM! I think I will scream! AAAIIYYIII!!! Okay, okay, I’m done now. No, just kidding, I’m actually not. AHGHGH! I’m not gonna be over this for, like, a SUPER long time! I, like, REALLY need all of your autographs, too. Ooo! And a picture! Well, more like a dozen pictures with you guys. And then I’m gonna need copies! And then copies of the copies!! And… and… would it be weird if I fainted right now? Because I totally feel like I’m gonna faint right now, hehe!”

And she did. Expended, she keeled over with that ear-to-ear smile still plastered on her face. Branch caught her right before she fell to the ground, and carried her in his arms.

“I’ll be back in a sec,” he said to his friends and brothers, smirking at the Pop Queen. “I’m gonna get her situated in the front row. Then we can get this show rolling, alright?”

And that’s just what he did, leaving Kismet and BroZone to themselves.

Both boybands looked at each other awkwardly, not sure what to say to each other. At least, until Floyd broke the ice, smiling politely.

“So… how did you guys meet Branch?”