#i can see through the queue inside you

[copias-juicebox]

tobias daddy interview or whatever

[pseudowho]

"Yuuji-- if you don't mind, can I ask you something?"

Yuuji looked up from his phone, feeling so grown up to be in the Jujutsu High staffroom with Kento. He raised his eyebrows, the scar across his lip tugging up.

"Uh...yeah, sure. Go crazy."

"What is scary dog privilege, exactly?"

"Scary dog privilege? Huh, well...let's see, uhm...so it's like..."

Yuuji explained, all peaches and wide eyes and animated hands. Kento nodded occasionally, listening intently. His mind, naturally, strayed to you; you were what this was all about, after all.

As with any thought of you (you being his blossoming latent obsession), Kento's stomach flipped, his grip tightening fractionally around his coffee.

Kento remembered.

He remembered when he dropped you home. You checked over your shoulder, again, and again, and again, before you unlocked your door and hurried inside.

He remembered how he had once walked up behind you without much thought, and you spun with panic in your eyes. Kento recalled how quickly you had relaxed, to see it was him, and how high his hope climbed as a result.

He remembered how you had spilled the contents of your bag. You snatched your pepper spray up in the hope that his keen eyes had missed it.

He remembered how you headed to the subway after a staff night out. Your keys had been curiously gripped between your fingers, a weapon that wasn't a weapon.

He remembered, how just the day before, he and you had walked together through central Tokyo to get lunch. You had sat on a park bench together, and Kento had been so overwhelmed by the need to hold it together, Kento, keep it together, that he barely registered the relief written on your skin.

You had eaten in comfortable silence, then leaned over to him, pressing a kiss to his cheek on the way to the bins.

"Thanks for the scary dog privilege, Kento. It's the first time in a long time that I've relaxed in public."

Kento's eyes had drifted closed for just a few moments too long, with the warmth of your lips on his skin, and he stuttered, fumbling, unlike himself.

"Ah...scary...dog privilege?" He asked, quiet. But you were already gone; throwing your crumbs to the ducks.

Yuuji's voice snapped Kento out of memory, and back to the staffroom.

"Dunno if that makes sense, Nanamin?"

A molten pit of spite and rage ignited in Kento once he put two and two together. Scary dog privilege. He gave you scary dog privilege. Why was walking the streets in safety a privilege? Shit. Kento kept his voice level, patting Yuuji on the shoulder as he left, his steaming coffee abandoned.

"Thank you, Yuuji. Stay safe out there this afternoon, and call me when you're finished, please."

If Kento hadn't already felt dirty enough with the knowledge that he pleasured himself to thoughts of you every night, he felt worse, now. He stalked through the corridors of Jujutsu High, calling Ijichi, calling Shoko, determined to find you.

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

Once you noticed how one man's gaze lingered on you, you noticed them all. To you, almost all seemed to do it, and to every woman, be they 18 or 80, tall or short or curvy or lithe or gay or straight or anywhere in between. Then, when you began to notice the gazes on 16 year olds, or 12 year olds, or--

You had nauseated by the time you turned the corner to grab lunch. Simultaneously built up and dragged down and accused, you were a madonna and a whore and a bitch. You wondered, vaguely, how deeply, how incurably the disease ran, as you entered the bustling café. You didn't want to think about it. You'd just grab food, and go, and--

"Ah. Good afternoon."

You blinked, to see Kento before you in the queue, and felt a warm burst of joy from your tummy to your toes.

"Kento, I'm...happier than you know, to see you, actually."

A satisfied hum. "I had a feeling you might be. Now...about something you said yesterday...."

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

Nanami Kento didn't immediately strike one as a scary dog. He was built, yes, but his suits hid it well, and he was only a little taller than average, and really quite mild, but--

-- oh.

The way his glares could frost a soul. The way other men bounced off him, a stone wall, when a shoulder 'accidentally' hit his. The way his eyes found wayward gazes like a sniper, with the dulcet loading of a bullet behind his sneer. The silent commanding respect. The dares that other men would not dare.

It was no wonder, then, how you and Kento, became you and Shoko and Kento, became you and Shoko and Maki and Nobara and Kento. While individually able to fight your own fights, feeling Kento's scary dog privilege melt threats with acid, was a burden blissfully relieved.

With Kento's protective Midas' touch, your daily lunches turned to gold, unsullied and unmolested. Still...he was there for the whole group.

So why, then, in such a large group, did you look up to find his gaze on you, and only you? How could his eyes caress without staring? It was sorcery, surely.

Kento sequestered you one day, throwing his crumbs to the ducks alongside yours, as the others chatted on the benches behind you. You looked up, shooting him a sideways smile, and wondering how you could ever be good enough for him. He spoke quietly.

"I always believed a dog to have just one owner."

You felt your stomach twist with insinuation. You laid the thread.

"...oh?"

"And while I'm happy to offer my privileges to the benefit of a group, I...would like to be in the position to make such a privilege exclusive."

You swallowed hard, looking sideways again with hope against hope against hope against--

"Are you...saying you'd like to be my scary dog?"

"Very, very much so."

[pepperyduck]

this is love ft. kento nanami

a/n: a few sappy slices of life with my main man :3 enjoy as i dig up motivation to finish kinktober. 18+ mdni!

"honey?" kento's voice is muffled through the door as he calls out to you, "everything okay?" the door rattles as he tries to open it, knob jingling.

"uhm, yeah! everything's fine!" you nervously shout, much too loud, and rush to unplug the iron that had melted your husband's favorite shirt. you panic and yelp when the hot iron scorches the side on your hand, throwing the stupid device to the ground in a clatter.

"why is the door locked—are you okay?" he asks, voice becoming more concerned as he hears the movement inside.

"i'm—i'm fine! promise! just give me a minute!" you're rushing into your shared master bathroom to run cold water over your hand, and kento’s using a screwdriver pulled from thin air to break into your bedroom. tears well in your eyes when you catch the sight of kento seeing his favorite shirt burnt and melted to his own ironing board. "i’m so sorry…"

in reality, he doesn’t care about the shirt—he’s already at your side to inspect your burnt hand. after a few seconds, he speaks.

"did you try to iron my shirt for me?" nanami asks, a small smile on his face, "you didn’t have to do that." he turns off the faucet and takes a small towel to dry your hand off.

"i tried to, i’m sorry—i didn’t know it would do that." you apologize, looking down at the cold tile flooring in defeat.

"oh, honey." he coos, "it’s only a shirt."

"have you seen your father?" you ask your son, yū, who’s sat at the dining table, eating breakfast. he shakes his head no, and when you look at your daughter, mayu, she does the same.

"jeez," you grumble to yourself, bedroom slippers pattering down the hallway as you go to search for your husband. saturday mornings were his time to sleep in, but realistically, he never slept past 9am. and currently, it was nearing 10am.

you check everywhere. he isn’t found in the bedroom, living room, his office, the garage, the patio or in the little garden he kept. upstairs, downstairs, everywhere, he isn’t there. and when you check in your bedroom for the last time, you hear a soft buzzing coming from the bathroom. upon entering, you see your husband bent over the counter, leaning close in the mirror as he shaves his stubble with an electric razor.

"there you are—when did you get that?"

kento had always been a clean shaven kind of man, going to a barber shop once every two weeks for his straight razor shave. it hadn’t even crossed your mind he didn’t go after work yesterday.

but when he looks at you—you burst out laughing. he’d shaven most of his beard off, but a few fuzzy patches remained on his cheeks, along with a mustache grazing his upper lip. peach fuzz and a few knicks litter his chin. this was the first time you’d seen him unable to do anything perfectly. and he looks ridiculous.

"is it really that bad?" he groans, pouting when you wrap your arms around yourself in a giggling fit. you shake your head, although your unforgiving laughs are a testament to the opposite.

"no—no, let me help," you say after calming down.

after gathering a new razor and some shaving cream, you sit atop the counter and your husband stands between your legs. kento is surprised how flawlessly you shave his face, without creating any more marks or cuts. you giggle and kiss him, getting some shaving cream on your face.

"ken?" you shout from the kitchen, where you’re sat, working on your dissertation. it’s been a long road of blood, sweat, and many, many tears; but you’re finally getting towards the end. about to earn a doctorate.

"yes, darling?" kento replies, walking into the kitchen on queue, his timing impeccable.

"can you read over this paragraph, please?" you kindly ask of him, pointing to your most recent written paragraph. he leans over you, planting one firm palm on the table, the other on your back; his eyes read along the sentences and his fingers tap along your spine.

"ah," his finger becomes more focused on a certain word, "wrong 'there', honey."

"no it's not..." you instantly retort, squinting your tired eyes to read over your writing. and you're right, it was the correct one the first time. this was his version of teasing you. but kento couldn't keep up the face much longer before he's giving in with a shit-eating grin you didn't see that often. "you're funny." you groan as kento stands back up.

after reading over the paragraph for about the nineteenth time, you notice kento silently slipping you some tea before turning back around to keep himself busy with cleaning. you absentmindedly take a few sips, then some more...and you find yourself becoming more and more sleepy...

and you're out like a light, forehead pressed directly against the table as a puddle of drool forms on the papers below. kento already has a warm blanket straight from the dryer to drape over you, and you stir just enough to get comfy on your arms.

kento knows that his back will hurt in the morning, but he sits around the corner of the table next to you, settling his head into his arms to drift off to sleep alongside you.

music of your taste plays rather quietly in the kitchen. you stir the pot of soup and inhale the flavorful aroma that wafts through the air.

kento sets two bowls next to the stove, then rummages through your silverware drawer to find two spoons. the kids are at their grandparents for the weekend, it's only you and your husband, converted into the duo you were long ago.

you step away from the stove to go fill up two glasses of wine, the brand kento had as his favorite had slowly turned into your favorite over time, too.

kento fills up the two bowls to the brim of the delicious food, grinning on the inside at the simplicity of it all. just you and him. he lids the pot with the matching glass top and makes his way over to the table.

you set out place mats for the both of you, then place the wine glasses in their prospective areas. kento places the bowls on top of the mats as you grab the spoons from the counter.

in the kitchen, your bodies subconsciously dance around each other. carefully, in perfect tune and pace. delicate steps of a routine formed over so much time together.

in the universe, your souls are tied, striding alongside one another in each lifetime repeated.

and this, is love.

[sun-kissy]

chocolate-coated hearts | r.l.

୨ৎ series masterlist

barista!remus x shy!reader

summary: you go to a new cafe to order donuts for your friend, immediately enamoured with the barista

tw: nothing? reader takes literature as a major, also kind of has social anxiety

a/n: might make this a series! i’ve got a few ideas <3

An anxious sigh escapes you as you stand idly outside the cafe, peering inside through the mosaicked windows. It was jam-packed, people pushing past each other and snake-like queues forming throughout the space. You wriggle your phone out of your coat pocket and glance at the message that your friend, Madison, had sent in a half hour ago.

hey gorgeous!! mind picking up a few donuts for me at Beanie’s before you come over? a few of the pbj ones, and some chocolate ones too. thanks xx

She was expecting, and you went by whenever you could to help her out after her asshole of a boyfriend left.

Normally, you wouldn’t bother. You hated crowded places, and Beanie’s was the definition of crowded – an old-style cafe which had blown up overnight because of its scrumptious donuts and vintage aesthetic. But who were you to deny the cravings of the woman bearing your goddaughter?

You take a deep breath and push the creaky wooden door open, cringing at how the bell rang and signalled the whole cafe to your presence. But no one so much as looked up, busy trying to buy or sell food, or find a table.

You push your way through the sea of people, joining the queue in front of the counter. It was long, you noted, and would probably take another fifteen minutes or so until it was your turn to place an order. You fish out your crumpled book from your bag and turn it to the page you had stopped on yesterday. It was the second classic of the term – Pride and Prejudice. Taking literature as a major meant you spent more time reading than anything else, but you weren’t complaining.

As you read, you scribbled down plot points to take note of and quotes which meant something worth writing about. Your eyes stayed glued to the page, trying to work out hidden meanings and flowery language. Once you were back home, you’d have to compile all your analysis onto that worksheet Professor Ragnarsson had given out, write the 10-page long review, and then –

“Hey! Shut the damn book and order, will you?”

Your heart jumps in your chest at the sudden harsh tone. You close your book and whip your head around to see a middle-aged man glaring at you before peering down at his watch. “There’s a long queue, and we don’t have all day.”

The heat rushes to your cheeks as you open your mouth to apologise – but before you can say anything, you hear an oddly soothing voice from behind you. “Hey, don’t be a jerk. She didn’t know the counter was open.”

You glance back towards the counter, and you swear your heart stopped beating for a second. Angelic was an understatement to describe the man standing in front of you, tall and lanky and absolutely fucking beautiful.

His chestnut brown hair perfectly framed his pale face, eyebrows furrowed in annoyance as he glanced at the rude customer behind you. There were pinkish scars tracing from above his eyebrows to right below his lips, but they looked golden under the orange light – he looked like some kind of heavenly being.

When his eyes dart back to you, his expression instantly softened, lips tilting upwards in a smile. You thought you would melt into a puddle right there and then just by gazing into his warm, honeyed eyes. “Hi, gorgeous. What can I get you?”

You blink, your mouth involuntarily falling open slightly. Gorgeous? Was he talking to you? Maybe he was referring to the man behind you.

His smile widens, and that does absolutely nothing to calm the feeling of your heart bouncing around in your stomach. “It’s okay if you can’t choose just yet, I know the number of options can be…” he chuckles, “overwhelming. Take all the time you need to decide.”

Oh my god, you thought. His laugh sounded musical, like the tender feeling of being enveloped in a warm embrace. You’d put it on a record player and play it on loop for hours if you could.

“Hurry the fuck up –”

“One more word from you and you won’t be getting your coffee today, buddy,” the godly-looking barista snapped in a slightly louder tone at the man behind you, face contorted in irritation.

You hear silent cursing behind you, a twinge of embarrassment turning you red. You quickly glance back up. “Sorry, hi, hello. I’ll um… I…” the words were on the tip of your tongue, but seemed to dissolve when he glanced at you with those agonisingly pretty eyes and kind smile.

Snap out of it, you internally curse as you open your mouth again. “I’ll get three peanut butter-jelly donuts, and four chocolate donuts.”

“Okay. Which chocolate ones?” he asks, tapping his tongs against the display dome with stacks of donuts. There really were a lot of options – chocolate sprinkles, belgian chocolate, chocolate glazed, double chocolate – your mind seemed to freeze up for a second. Which one would Madison want?

You quickly look behind you, seeing the man’s face twisted up in what looked like rage. It seemed to be taking him all his willpower not to lash out at you, and the customers behind him didn’t look much far off.

You turn back to the counter, eyes wide with panic as you feel the blood rush to your head. You had never been good at this; thinking and choosing on the spot. That’s why Subway was always a no-go for you, that’s why Madison had specifically told you what to get her – just that she hadn’t been specific enough. “I… I’m not sure. I think, um…”

“Hey, take it easy,” you look back up to see Remus giving you a reassuring smile, a slight hint of concern on his face. Your despair must have been embarrassingly evident, then. “It’s alright if you can’t choose. Do you want me to pick for you?”

You ought to have been humiliated, the way you immediately nodded and gave in to his offer. But he just gave you an easy smile and nodded, picking up one of each type and placing them in the box.

“Thank you,” you mumble sheepishly as you move to the payment counter, fishing in your bag for a wad of notes.

“Of course,” he grins, and it was so bright you thought it could probably light up the whole cafe. “That’ll be $15.90.”

As he waits for you to pay, he takes a quick look down and begins to brush crumbs off his apron. You look up at the wrong moment, eyes immediately fixing on the curves of his biceps visible through his T-shirt, and his slender fingers.

He glances back up at you, catching a glimpse of your flustered look and instantly smirking. You look away abashedly, counting the money and handing it to him.

The brush of your fingers against his calloused palm sent a jolting shock through you as you quickly pull back, not missing the way his smile widened as he cashed the money into the register.

“Thanks for visiting, sweetheart. Hope to see you again soon.”

You don’t reply, afraid you’d crumble into a blushing, gooey mess. Flashing him a brief, nervous smile, you pick up the box of donuts before turning around and heading straight for the exit. Sweetheart.

You huff as you open the door and step outside, pulling out your phone to complain to Madison all about the stupidly handsome barista at her favourite cafe. God, he really knew what he was doing.

[eccentricwritingbaby]

funny wife, happy life

carlos sainz x wife!reader

summary - the grids beloved couple have begun a prank war, subjecting the drivers and fans to their hilarious antics

masterlist

request by anonnie :) thank you love! - hey you could write about carlos that he and Y/N his wife that they are the funniest couple in the paddock that Y/N has the same personality as carlos that they often play pranks on each other on tiktok

-

your knees were cramping, on the verge of giving out, as you held your hidden position in your husband’s drivers room. charles had told you he’d be back in a few minutes. a few minutes. ha! you’ve been sitting here for ages and you’re about to collapse. until finally you hear the sweet, sweet sounds of your husband's laugh approaching you quickly. you give a quick scramble to collect yourself and pull up your tik tok account in order to record the heart attack soon to be inflicted upon carlos. the door handle jiggles and opens, alerting you of his presence. his footsteps become closer to your hidden position behind a few large items and abruptly stop. you take it as your queue to jump but before you can-

“BOO!” your husband screeches at you with his phone in your face as you let out a mirroring yell and fall backwards on your ass. 

“AYE DIOS MIO!” you hold your hand over your racing heart and carlos crumples to the floor in a fit of hysterics. you can’t help but join in soon, but not without playfully swatting at him in a joking matter of pretending to be angry. 

“mi-mi amor,” carlos tries his hardest to get out in between laughs as he begins to sit up, “you’re too easy!” he falls again, most likely due him replaying the scenario again in his head.

“aye! easy? i believe i remember you begging for a date with me, señor,” you continue to chuckle at his phrasing, teasing him relentlessly felt like a duty to you. 

“whatever,” he brushes off the playful comment and turns his attention to the video he recorded of you on his phone, “y/n, this is too funny,” 

“si, bueno. i wish i got that video of you instead, though” you act out a solemn expression and carlos sees right through your jokes.

“well you didn’t, loser. i’m posting this,”

-

you and carlos had opted for a night in after the race due to his fatigue and your absolute need for a shower. after lando had pleaded with you both for a minute to rethink your decision as you were walking back to the hotel, he ultimately gave up trying and muttered a slight ‘old married couple’ at you and carlos while the both of you just laughed at his mini tantrum. 

once inside your hotel room, carlos headed for the shower, but stopped and turned when he noticed you weren’t following.

“i thought you wanted to shower, amor?” he asked in your direction.

“i do, but i kind of want to shower alone tonight, lo siento,” you respond while biting your lower lip to not give away your amusement. see - you had a plan. while carlos was in the shower you were going to get to the vanity and paint on a fake hickey. set up your phone. and get him back for ruining your prank earlier. 

carlos stands looking at you with a bit of skepticism. you rarely shower separately, only when upset with each other and he was beginning to worry, “aye, are you mad about earlier? me scaring you?”

“love, the only thing that is scaring me right now is how stinky you are. i’m not mad i just don’t need a smelly shower with you,” you shrug off his accusation with a laugh in order to lighten the mood and your husband catches on, chuckling with you.

“okay, you don’t need to tell me twice,” he begins to make his way over to you with his arms out wide, “you do want a stinky hug before i hop in, no?” calling your bluff he tries to latch his arms around you as you scream and try to run away.

“sto-stop!” you giggle as he grabs you in his arms, “eww! carlos!” the whine slips from your lips as he starts planting kisses all over your neck and face, tickling you causing you to let out more laughter. his grip loosens and he backs away towards the bathroom, grabbing his change of clothes off the dresser as he does so. one arm raised and a finger pointed at you he lets go of a very loose warning, “this isn’t over, cariño,”

“oh no!” you gasp in dramatics, “the tickle monster! what am i five?” carlos just laughs and releases a ‘loca’ under his breath as he shuts the bathroom door and turns on the shower. you then quickly get to work with your makeup, planting the perfect looking hickey in a place he hasn’t seen all day, but will very soon. once it was done, you discreetly hide your phone and patiently wait on the bed for carlos to leave the bathroom. 

fresh out of the shower, your husband steps into your room with just a pair of sweatpants on as he continues to run the towel over his damp hair. you take that as your sign to begin your prank and tie your hair up into a bun - giving carlos the perfect view of your neck. walking over to him, you plant a kiss on his lips and step back from him as he turns his attention towards his wife. looking you up and down for a second, making eye contact with the hickey, you feign confusion and innocence by proceeding to ask, “que, mi amor? is there something on my face?” you attempt to turn and ‘check’ yourself in the mirror, but carlos pulls on your arm, spinning you around to face back at him. he quickly discards the towel in his hand, throwing it to the floor, as he looks closer at your neck. 

“did you hurt yourself, cariño?” he asks softly, “maybe with one of your hair tools or something,” he finishes as if he’s almost assuring himself. 

“no? what is this carlos?” you question, trying your damnedest not to let out a smile.

“tienes algo en el cuello,” you have something on your neck uh oh. carlos only spoke direct spanish with you when he was deep in a feeling - lust, happiness, anger. “parece un…” it looks like a… 

“que?” you ask softly.

“a hickey, y/n. it looks like a hickey. y sé muy bien que no fui yo quien te dio esto,” and i know very well it was not me that gave you this

“oh, oh that? ya, um, actually that might be from my curling iron, you were right!” responding lightly only made carlos narrow his eyes at you further. 

“y/n, qué hice mal,” what did i do wrong?

“oh no, carlos, baby, nothing- you did nothing wrong,” you panic at his sadness and hold his face in your hands, “it’s just a prank, los, te lo prometo,” i promise you

he looks down at you, widening his eyes in hope before he says anything, then you hear - so quietly you almost miss it, ‘take it off’. 

“i will, i will baby. come here, come with me,” you lead him into the bathroom, grabbing your makeup wipes in haste and rubbing the fake hickey right off your neck. you hear your husband let out a long and deep exhale before he gives your sides a squeeze. 

“you just took ten years off my life with that stress, amor,”

“lo siento, carlos. i’ll even show you the video where i put it on if that makes you feel better,” you turn around in his hold and give him not one, not two, but three quick pecks to the lips as you drag him back into the room to retrieve your phone. as of that moment, carlos begins plotting his revenge. 

-

the next week, your husband and you arrive early at the paddock for race day due to his necessary media duties. with your hands intertwined, you begin making your way to the ferrari garage - passing a few reporters and fans on the way. while making your way, a few fans had called out to the both of you. carlos always joked that his fans loved you more than him, but every joke has a bit of truth to it. 

“y/n! carlos! over here! can we get a picture?”

your husband - ever the gentleman - turns his attention to the young group of girls at the barricade and leads you both over to them. once carlos had signed a few things and taken a few pictures, you both turn to leave but are prevented by the girls. 

“y/n! can we get a picture with you too!” carlos checks you over, asking you non-verbally if you’re okay with it and you slightly nod in his direction to signify the answer. bending down and over slightly, the girls grab a few selfies with you and speak to you about their love for your tik toks, tweets, and overall personality. with your light ego boost, you turn and chuckle to your husband. 

“isn’t it great that your fans love me more?” you give him a sly smile and a poke to his stomach as he laughs along with you.

“aye, they’re just saying that to make you feel better, amor,” he shoots back quickly.

“nuh-uh,” you scoff back, “they love me so much more, i think i better be the one to race today,” at this point the girls are recording your interaction while giggling at the banter your husband and you have provided. 

“in your dreams, cariño,” he bites back with a smile.

with that comment, you whip around to face the group, “do you hear how he speaks to me? my own husband! he hates me!” you sigh dramatically as carlos pulls you into his arms. the crowd before you erupts in laughter at your antics and your husband bids polite goodbyes, leading you away. you’re both leaving in cackles as you continue to jab each other back and forth.

as you round the corner to the ferrari garage, you both run into fernando walking towards aston martin. 

“hola, nando!” you call out with a wave. he stops curtly and leans in your direction, arms parting for a hug. you receive it kindly, swaying lightly back and forth all while exchanging pleasantries. 

“aye, he oído felicitaciones están en orden,” i hear congratulations are in order fernando presses with a smile.

“porque felicitaciones?” why congratulations? you ask back to him. 

“oh! lo siento, ¿se supone que nadie debe saberlo?” i’m sorry, is no one supposed to know?

your confusion ends when you turn to your now - dying laughing - husband at your left, “¿le dijiste a todo el mundo que estaba embarazada?” did you tell everyone i was pregnant?

carlos can’t even shake out words at this point due to laughter as he just begins to vigorously nod his head yes. fernando takes this as his sign to head back in his previous direction, chuckling under his breath something about ‘these damn kids again’. 

“you’re dead, carlos sainz,” you state matter-of-factly at him. 

“i’m sorry, me or my fathe-”

“YOU KNOW WHO!” you yell back, cutting off his smart ass comment, “does the whole grid really think im fucking pregnant, you ass?” this time carlos’ laughter is cut short and he just slowly shakes his head yes, nervousness now overwhelming his features instead of amusement. 

“do you now realize how stupid that was?” you ask him again. again he slowly nods his head yes, his eyes only meeting his shoes. out of your peripheral, you can see lando approaching the both of you and he holds out his arms in glee.

“there are my favorite soon-to-be parent-”

“SHUT IT!” you snap in his direction, “the only child i will be raising for the foreseeable future is the one in front of me,” you nod your head towards carlos, and his eyes - again - never leave his shoes. lando begins to laugh even louder than your husband did before at his friend being scolded like a child.

“oh i am so tweeting about this,” he lets out between laughs. 

you take a glance over at your husband and whisper a light ‘karma’ into his ear before you kiss his cheek and head off to find his family in the garage. 

-

after the race, carlos is doing interviews and you are searching to find him. not being in the media pen, but instead just along the gates talking to reporters, you easily walk up to your husband and wait over to the side for him to finish. the reporter speaking to him notices your presence and begins to wave you over. you shake it off quickly, wanting your husband to have his shining moment, but instead he also joins in waving you over - causing you to reluctantly head in their direction. 

“hi!” you squeak out to the reporter, carlos pulling you into his side and wrapping an arm around your shoulder. 

“hi, y/n! thank you for joining us for the interview!” the young woman starts. 

“thank you for letting me crash!” you reply back with a giggle. 

“not crashing, you’re here by invitation,” your husband speaks up, kissing your forehead after doing so.

“i’m sorry if we were too forward to invite you,” the reporter chimes in fast.

“no, no!” you assure back, “i just didn’t want to outshine ‘ole carlos over here, you know how it is,” you joke, giving the reporter and your husband a laugh. 

“for sure,” the young woman gives you, “we love you two as a couple, you both have been informally deemed the grids funniest couple with all your banter and tik tok pranks, how do you both feel about that title?”

“it’s a heavy weight to carry,” you dramatically sigh, “i have to keep the people on their toes and give them what they want,” the reporter laughs once again at your comments as you shrug before your husband chimes in, “funny wife, happy life - right?” you all share one more laugh before the reporter lets you two depart. 

as you’re walking out of the paddock, hand in hand, you reach up on your toes to plant a kiss to carlos’ lips. he hums back in approval, stopping you, with his hold moving to your waist and pressing deeper. you smile into the kiss and can feel him doing the same. once pulling apart, your husband stares into your eyes, the contact moving from eye to eye to lips. you almost crumble watching him shamelessly adore you. 

“what are you thinking about, amor?” you gently ask, attempting not to ruin the soft moment with loud diction.

“just how much i love you, cariño,” his reply is simple, yet means so much. even though you both are playful with your antics and pranks, your love is something that never falters with seriousness. and you wouldn’t trade it for the world.

[girasollake]

Hi! Can I request a smut imagine with prompt 48 and trope 8 with Theodore Nott.

She’s a slytherin too and a badass bitch who everybody wants to be or date

Thank youuu!

✧ theodore nott x fem!reader x jealousy x "you. are. mine."✧

(this request is a part of my writing event, here is the link to the masterlist of the fics i'll be publishing from said event:) )

this took longer than i expected, thank you for your request anon! x

told u guys i’d post smth… surprise!!!!

warnings: 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, p in v sex, some swear words, some slight cedric x reader, theo being bitchy ig, fingering, general sex stuff, orgasm denial, ummmmmm yeah i think that’s it

i’ll reread it later to fix mistakes cuz rn it’s 2 am where i live and i’m going to bed bye

•❅───✧❅✦❅✧───❅•

Your relationship with Theo was complicated. At least in your mind that was the most suitable word for this dynamic, you could never find anything else that would quite describe it. You were friends, that’s for sure, this was the only thing you were certain of. Some days you had found yourself tangled in his bedsheets, his soft fingers caressing your back as you lingered in his scent. But, there were also days when you didn’t speak to him at all, strolling through the halls and seeing him tug a piece of hair behind the ear of some Ravenclaw girl while simultaneously giving her his infamous smile. Even though you also flirted and went on dates with others, something inside your guts sunk down each time you saw him with a girl who was not you. And you could barely handle it. Every time you promised yourself you’ll never sleep with him again or give him your attention, you’d always end up doing the opposite. There was something about him that lured you in, it was toxic, but so divine. So, whenever his lips connected to yours in a hungry kiss, you’d forget about all of the other women he probably does this with. It was just you and him and your only thought during these moments was to stay with him like that forever.

‚-it’s not like it’s that important.’

‚Huh?’ You lifted your head and met Pansy’s annoyed face. ‚Sorry, what were you saying?’

¨What is going on with you lately?´She shook her head and sighed. ´I asked if you have a date for the ball.’ She then added.

‘Oh, well, not really.’ You shrugged.

‘Seriously? Is this about Theo again? I’ve told you multiple times that there is a fucking queue of guys just waiting for you and all you do is always go back to him.’ She huffed. ‘What about Mason? Louise? Henry? They were all head over heels for you, I don’t believe they didn’t ask you at least once.’

‘They did. I just said no.’ You mumbled and avoided her angry gaze.

SShe groaned and took a sip of her butterbeer. ‘I was not going to tell you this, but I see there is no other option.’ Pansy took a deep breath. ‘I heard the boys talking about the ball and Nott wants to take Arisa.’

You swallowed a big gulp in your throat and looked down into your drink. You expected that something like this would happen, you just didn’t think you wouldn’t be prepared to hear it.

‘’M sorry.’ She looked at your numb expression with caring eyes.

‘It’s okay Pans.’ You gave her a soft smile. ‘Maybe you’re right. Maybe it’s time to move on.’

Even though you tried to not think about him for the next few days, it was unusually hard. He was on your mind non stop, like a song playing on repeat. On top of that, everyone was talking about the upcoming event. While walking through the halls you overheard people gossiping about the pairs, discussing what they are gonna wear and you were also a witness to roughly 7 performances of the boys creatively asking their crushes to go with them.

You walked into the courtyard and took a seat on the nearest free bench. You pulled out your sketchbook in hopes to finally draw something. Truth is, you didn’t remember the last time you practiced your beloved activity, not that you didn’t have time, you just didn’t have any ideas. This time wasn’t different, you looked around and then your gaze rested on the empty page before you. You made a soft line with your pencil and stopped, it was like your hand didn’t want to listen to your mind. You groaned and closed the sketchbook to put it in your bag again. While doing this, you felt a presence in front of you. Looking up, you saw Cedric Diggory, a charming smile plastered on his face.

‘Hi, do you have a moment?’ He asked and you stood up to face him.

‘Of course.’ You smiled.

‘I have a question.’

‘If you want my help with something, then no. I can barely finish my own essays and-‘

‘No, that’s..’ He chuckled. ‘I was wondering if you’d want to go to the ball with me?’

‘Oh..’ You bit your lip softly from the inside. ‘I.. I’ll think about it. Is that okay with you?’

‘Surely, just don’t take too long, darling.’ He sent you a wink and walked out of the courtyard.

Later that night you were studying in your dorm, soft music was playing in your headphones as you scribbled some sigils for one of the classes. Your back was turned to the door, so you didn’t hear that someone came in. It was the feeling of being observed that made you move your head to inspect the room and there he was. Theodore Nott stood next to your door, his arms were crossed and you couldn’t quite read his expression. You grabbed your headphones and took them off.

‘Knocking exists.’ You told him.

‘Not for me.’ He replied sternly.

‘What are you doing here, Theodore?’ You fixed your position on the bed so that you were fully facing him. ‘Don’t you have any other hoes to tend to?’

‘Are you going to the ball with Diggory?’ He avoided your question.

‘Why do you care?’ You stood up.

‘Answer me.’ He took a step closer to you.

‘Maybe I am, maybe I’m not.’

‘For fucks sake, stop being a brat and answer the question.’ He said through gritted teeth.

‘It’s none of your business.’ You replied while stepping closer to him and poking your finger into his chest.

His scent filled up your nose and you felt this forbidden feeling again. Your body was lustful, for him, but you couldn’t let him win again.

He chuckled, ‘See, that’s where you’re wrong.’

You scoffed, ‘Fine. Yes.’ You spat at him. ‘I’m going with Cedric. Is that what you wanted to hear?’

His eyes darkened at the confession, which wasn’t even true. You just wanted to get on his nerves and see what he would do. You didn’t even have time to react before he pinned you to the wall and hovered over you. Your breath hitched and you tried your best to avoid his eyes, because if you looked into them, you’d lose.

‘No, you’re not.’ He stated. ‘You are not going with anyone.’

‘Why? Why the fuck do you care so much?!’ Your eyes were glued to the ceiling.

He gripped your face with one of his hands and forced you to look at him. You closed your eyes.

‘You.’ He whispered and brought his lips closer to yours before breathily adding the rest. ‘Are. Mine.’

The sound of his voice was angelic and it sent a certain feeling down to your core. You tried your best to resist but your eyes fluttered open and met his. You lost.

He grabbed your face and connected your lips in a hungry kiss. You whimpered into his mouth and cursed yourself in your mind. Why was he so addictive? Why couldn’t you quit? He just felt too good to be true. Kissing you in all the right places, his fingers touching where you needed him most, every time you felt him inside of you, it felt like heaven.

He took a few steps back and tried to not break the kiss. He pushed you onto the mattress and with one of his hands he pushed all the books off the bed. He left wet kisses along your jawline and you moaned at the feeling. He discarded both of your shirts and attached his lips to your chest, leaving a couple love bites along the way.

‘I want you to say it.’ He mumbled into your ear.

‘Hm?’ You were brought out of your trance.

‘I want you to admit you’re mine.’

‘But am I?’ He stopped kissing your neck and gripped your throat.

‘Are you?’ He raised his brow and smirked challengingly, knowing you’d fold under him.

You stared deep into his eyes and swallowed harshly because of his grip, before replying, ‘I’m yours.’

‘Good girl.’ He let go of your neck and connected your lips once again.

Soon enough both of you were a sweaty mess, clothes laying somewhere on the wooden floor, soft sounds escaping your lips as he pumped his fingers in and out of you. His breath on your neck and occasional kisses made you feel dizzy, his fingers making you squirm from the pleasure, but it wasn’t enough.

‘I need to feel you.’ You breathed out and Theo didn’t waste a second.

He positioned himself on top of you and slowly entered your aching pussy. You threw your head back and he used that to immediately attach his lips to your neck once again.

‘’S okay, darling. You’re doing so good f’me.’ He whispered to help you relax.

His voice made you let go of the tension in your lower body, finally allowing him to move at a pace so perfect for both of you. He lifted you up and spinned both of you, so that you were on top of him. His thrusts became quicker and stronger, one of his hands was caressing your breasts, while the other rubbed your clit so deliciously. You cried out his name a few times when you were close, but he always stopped just then. He just smirked every time and continued his actions, it turned him on, watching you whine on top of him. He felt he was getting closer to his release, so he sped up again, and this time his hand stayed on your sweet spot. You reached your high with a loud moan and threw your head back, your hand grabbing Theo’s arm. He released inside of you with a loud groan and you used that to push away his hand which was still rubbing circles on your bud, too sensitive for more. You collapsed on top of him and gave him a peck on his collarbone. Theo reached for the blanket and covered the two of you.

‘I lied.’ You mumbled.

‘What?’

‘I’m not going with Cedric.’ You replied softly. ‘I told him I’d think about it and..’

‘Good.’ He interrupted. ‘You’re going with me then.’

‘Am I?’ You looked up at him playfully. ‘I thought you were taking Arisa.’

‘Who?’ He replied and you giggled. ‘She asked me to go. But I refused.’

‘Why? She’s a nice girl.’

‘Maybe. But she isn’t you.’ He tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. ‘And I belong solely to you.’

•❅───✧❅✦❅✧───❅•

@ girasollake 2024

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Roads Untraveled 1

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, pregnancy, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Single and pregnant, you discover a super soldier in the dumpster but he might not be hero you think he is. 

[This is a rewrite of a series of the same name which I removed a couple years ago]

Characters: Silverfox!Steve Rogers

Note: I finally did this.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Asking for more or putting ‘part 2?’ is not feedback.

Love you all. You are appreciated and your are worthy. Treat yourself with care. 💖

‘When he went away  The blues walked in and met me  Oh, yeah if he stays away  Old rocking chair’s gonna get me  All I do is pray...’ 

You sway to the melody as you wipe dry the last plate. You set it in the rack as Etta James’ soulful crooning wafts around the kitchen. Just the simple task of washing the dishes has you out of breath. You can no longer hum along as you’re suddenly light headed with sweat speckled across your brow. Even the breeze drifting in through the open window can’t cool the constant heat brewing within you. 

You brace your lower back as you reach for the dish towel and pop open the cupboard. The music drones to silence as the next some in queue loads. Your rounded stomach presses to the counter as you take a mug and dry it inside and out. Strange, you don’t remember the song starting like that; the strange warbling noise much unlike Marvin Gaye’s rich tones. 

You set the mug on the shelf and back up. Another noise peaks your attention, too tinny to be a snare. You rub your stomach mindlessly as you sling the cloth over your shoulder. You waddle across the tile to the folding table beneath the window. You tap pause on your phone and the bluetooth speaker goes silent. 

Your fingers pick the damp fabric away from your bump. These days you can’t avoid getting soaked. Even as you can’t forget about the burden of your condition, you’re still oblivious to how it gets in the way until it does. You sigh as you listen for another clue. 

A pained deep grunt floats up from below. Distant but decisive, another rustle beneath the unexpected noise. You lean over the table, a hand on the ledge as you push the pane higher. You bend, stomach pressed to the speaker, and peer down. You expect another dumpster diver searching for empties to trade in; rather you meet a most unexpected sight. 

There is a man in the dumpster, alright, but he isn’t moving. From there, you can’t see very clearly. You squint at the figure strewn among the trash but the zigzag of the fire escape obscures your eye line. 

You shouldn’t go and see. Not only is it a lot of effort, but it’s dangerous. You shouldn’t be wandering into alleys to check on strangers in dumpsters. You don’t know any good reason someone might be swimming in garbage. Nor do you think they would want to be bothered.  

Still, the prickling in your neck urges you to do something. There’s just something so peculiar about the angle of the arm you can see clearer than the rest of the body. At least they’re moving, even if they sound agonized. 

You take your phone and untether it from the bluetooth speaker. You unlock it and keep your thumb ready to dial out. You move as quickly as you can, not very, and waddles along the back of the couch into the entry way. You take your keys from the hook near your door and step into your cushy slides. 

You turn back the latch and leave the door unlocked behind you. The slides shift on your swollen feet as you rush down to the elevator. God, your back hurts. You try not to lean too far back as it only adds to the pain. You need a belly belt but they’re so darn expensive. 

You’re out of breath as you step on and turn to watch the numbers count down. You’re still panting as you reach the lobby and push through the front doors, leaning into the heavy grated iron until it creaks loudly. You clamour down the steps to even ground and your hips pang. 

You put your hand under your stomach, trying to lift it and ease the pressure in your hips. You blow out between your lips as you have to slow down. You shuffle across the grass and into the paved lobby. The stink of the trash brings you back to those early days of morning sickness. And afternoon sickness. And night sickness. 

You try not to inhale too deeply as you step between the brick buildings. You bring your phone up, ready to hit those three digits in a heartbeat. You should’ve done so already. Even if you do, it’ll take hours for anyone to come out here. 

You stop and listen a few steps from the dumpster. You don’t hear anything now. You look up at the sky, dimming towards evening in a mixture of pink and blue, the moon peeking palely through the hue. You grip your phone tight, keys jangling with your movement as you continue forward. 

“Hello?” You call out, “is someone in there?” You linger near the corner of the dumpster, the trash reeking in your nostrils, “do you need help?” 

No answer. You stare up, wondering how you might see inside. If you weren’t built like a keg, you might be able to see from the lower level of the fire escape but you can’t even make it one rung. You blink and call out again. 

“Hello? Are you okay?” 

You wait for a response. Silence again. Maybe they found their way out on their own. You huff. So much for all that. All you’ve done is added to the pain in your arches. You turn on your heel and a groan gurgles and plastic crinkles noisily. 

You stop again, wavering, and peer back over your shoulder. A hand appears over the tops of the dumpsters edge and grips it. You face the large metal bin as the knuckles strain within the stained brown leather, fingertips poking out nakedly, blood and dirty tinged across the flesh. A long grunt follows as the figure drags himself to look over the top. 

“Sir, are you--” you begin, voice catching at the sight of the cowl and the man’s square jaw. The white star on his chest stuns you. It’s him. Everyone knows that uniform, that face, even under his helmet. New York’s own Captain America. 

You gape as the super soldier strains and swings himself out of the dumpster with one arm. His other is hanging limply as his feet hit the pavement. His knees crack and buckle. He drops down onto them and hisses. 

“Captain America?” You utter dumbly. 

He puts his fist to the ground and leans on his arm. He hangs his head and heaves. He drags a leg forward, planting his foot, and makes himself stand. He pushes his shoulders back and winces, reaching to cradle his dangling arm. 

“Steve,” he rasps, “goddamn.” 

You don’t expect the obscenity. Not from him. He leans against the dumpster and turns his chin up. He gnashes his teeth as he grips his arm and jerks, moving the heavy bin with his effort. The pop of his shoulder is sickening as he growls tightly. He stomps his foot and as he shakes out the arm he just put back into place. 

He reaches up and peels off his cowl as he puts his head straight. He looks at you as he wipes the streak of blood from lip to chin. His blond locks are streaked silver and his face is lined. He looks much older than the magazine covers and the TV screens. The magic of editing, right? 

He swipes the sweaty hair from his forehead and huffs. 

“Steve,” you rest your phone on your stomach, “are you okay?” 

He pushes himself away from the dumpster and puffs, “I’m fine. Just... a hiccup.” 

You stare at him. He looks tired and worn. You believe him when he says he’s okay. He's a super soldier and the world has seen his many feats. Yet he looks completely hollow. 

“Are you sure? I could call someone or...” you step forward and point to the slash that borders chest and shoulder, “you should clean that out, shouldn’t you?” 

He looks down and grimaces, “had worse. I got comms. HQ doesn’t care about a few scratches.” 

He goes to step forward and stumbles slightly. He snarls and kicks his foot into the gravel. He wiggles his knee and bends to rub the joint. 

“I...” your mouth opens and closes. This isn’t the man you’ve seen in the media. He's not smiling and golden and shining. Still, he’s the Captain. “I live above,” you gesture upward, “I could help... or maybe you can just... sit for a little bit. Get yourself straight?” 

He looks at you. As if for the first time. His forehead smooths as the tension eases from his jaw. His gaze slowly crawls down to his stomach and you see the dimple in his cheek. 

“Your husband okay with that? I’m a bit of a mess,” his tone is lighter as he fixes his grip on his cowl. 

“Oh no, I don’t have--” you chew your lip and look at the brick wall, “it’s just me. But I have first aid kit and learned to stitch in summer camp. I think I can still remember how.” 

He glances around and nods, “got a back door?” 

“Yeah, it’s... past you,” you nod in his direction. 

He pivots stiffly and cranes to see around the dumpster. You near him and your keys jingle again. You follow him to the metal door with the glass window and you shove the key in and twist. You pull it open a few inches. It’s heavier than the front door. He grabs it and wrenches it all the way back. 

“Thanks,” you murmur. “There’s an elevator.” 

“Hm, fewer people see me, the better,” he sniffs as the door clanks behind him. 

“It might take me a while,” you warn, “I’m slow.” 

“What floor. I’ll meet you,” he offers. 

“Sure, it’s three.” 

“Number?” 

“310.” 

“I’ll find it,” he states and marches towards the stair sign. 

You go to catch the elevator, stewing in disbelief on your ascent. You step off and continue on to your apartment. He’s already there. He stands with his hand on the frame, looking over his shoulder as you waddle down the hall towards him. 

“It’s unlocked,” you say. 

He opens it and waits for you. You thank him as you enter and he follows. He locks it and lingers behind you. You put your hand to the wall as you slip off your slides. He gently lays his cowl on the corner table and bends to unlace his boots. You hang the keys on the hook and place your phone on the small table. 

He leaves his dirtied boots on the mat and limps forward. You stand in the open doorway of the living room and peek back at him. He looks around reluctantly. 

“Please, sit down,” you insist and wave through the doorway before you pass through. 

“I...” he begins and you hear his uneven gait down the hallway. “I don’t want to dirty your couch.” 

“I have a steam cleaner,” you assure. “Sit, I’ll get the kit.” 

He stares, his eyes once more scanning the space. Does he think this is a trip? That you’re some covert agent who all too conveniently found him? That’s absurd. Look at you. 

You shrug off that ridiculous idea and cross to the kitchen. You open several drawers before you remember it’s in the bathroom. Of course. Your brain likes to play games these days. You grab the metal tin from under the sink and return to Steve.  

He pulls off his gloves and balls them on the side table next to the couch. You come around the other side of the couch and sit, leaving lots of space between you. You squeeze the kits as you’re once more out of breath. 

“You okay?” He turns the question on you. 

“I’m not the one bleeding. Just pregnant,” you smile. 

You balance the kit on your stomach as you lean back. You sanitize a needle and weave it with surgical thread. You put that aside and fish out an alcoholic swap. You shift the kit aside and push on the back of the couch as you try to sit forward. You shake and he helps you, a humbling assistance. 

“First,” you turn to him, “we’ll see how deep it is,” you tear open the swap, “can I...” 

“One sec,” he dips his fingers into the fabric and tears the sleeve, renting the fabric like tissue. His arm is thick and well-toned despite the years. A centurion like him can’t complain for the shape he’s in, even battered. “I can do it myself.” 

“Yes, but it wouldn’t be easy.” 

You reach as he angles towards you. You gingerly dab around the gash and he tenses. He takes a sharp breath, “you don’t have to be so gentle. I can handle pain.” 

“Right,” you work more diligently. 

He’s quiet as you tend to him, picking out gravel and some metal slivers. You worry that you might miss some. You lean in closer and he steels himself at your proximity. 

“So,” he clears his throat, “just you and...” the kid?” 

“We all make mistakes,” you chuckle. You can only laugh about it, as scared as you are. 

“Mmm,” he flinches as you sweep down the length of the cut. It’s not that deep, mostly superficial. 

“Let me put some steri-strips on, shouldn’t need the stitches, ” you say as you sift through the kit with one hand, “if you’re hungry, I have leftovers. You like chicken?” 

You don’t know why you’re offering. Maybe it’s because you owe him. Like everyone in the city. It’s your chance to give back to the hero who gave so much. Or maybe it’s because you’re so damn lonely talking to your own stomach. 

“I should go,” he insists as you place a strip across the cut. 

“Up to you,” you say, “I don’t mind either way, but I’m not going to chase Captain America out of ym apartment.” 

He doesn’t say anything. You finish dressing his wound and gather up the wrappers and all. You crumple it in one hand and rock yourself to stand. You’re overly aware of him watching you. You touch your stomach and rub it, soothing your nerves. You find him watching the movement of your hand. 

“You must be pretty far along,” he says. 

“Six months. Chicken tortellini, if you want. I was gonna reheat some. I haven’t eaten since work.” 

“Work?” He frowns and stands, moving better than before. “Should you be?” 

“I’m at a desk. It’s nothing. HR got me some ergonomic stuff. Nothing compared to what you do.” 

You put away the kit and toss the garbage. You wash your hands before you search out the container of pasta in the fridges. You sense him behind you, just in the wide archway that peers into the kitchen. You reach into the cupboard you left open and take the single plate that isn’t in the rack. 

“So, you want some?” You ask. 

He’s silent with contemplation, the shift of his weight creaks in the floor, “I appreciate it, yes, please.” 

“I might have something you can change into,” you say. You wonder why you’re doing all this. Maybe it’s that maternal instinct kicking in. “The father, before he took off, left a few things.” You peek over your shoulder, “he was a bit smaller than you.” 

He shrugs then winces at the careless gesture. “Do you mind if I wash up before I eat? I smell like garbage. I don’t wanna overstep--” 

“Go ahead, it’ll take a while to warm this up,” you say. 

Another long lull. He taps his fingers on the wall and inhales deep enough for you to hear, “promise, I’ll get out of your hair after dinner.” 

“Please, take your time,” you say as you put the tortellini in a glass pan to rebake. He backs away and you sense his hesitation, “oh, down the hall, to the left of the bedroom at the end.” 

“Thanks,” he intones, “oh, uh, just realised, you know who I am...” 

Your brows pop up and you stop before you can put the pan in the stove. You look back at him and give your name. He nods. 

“Pretty,” he comments, “also, it’s just Steve, not Captain.” 

[glitterjay]

hi! do you write threesomes? can you write about y/n with hee and won?

⭒ threesome, exhibitionism(?, dom!heeseung, virgin!jungwon, switch!reader, pet names, smut under cut minors dni

⭒ c's note: i do write threesomes but i cant promise im good at them, hehe. im also doing my permanent taglist all over again, so if you'd like to be in it shoot me an ask or leave a comment :] also, this is all over the place so im sorry if it sucks

⭒ taglist (open): @hollyoongs

having one of your boyfriend's dearest friends watching as you got your pussy eaten out was definitely something new.

heeseung had been talking about how one of his friends, jungwon, had been getting more and more curious about the active sex lives of those in his friend circle, and to his luck, heeseung was one of his closest friends.

he had been talking with you about inviting him over some day to watch you guys do your thing, and you agreed because why not? but you didn't think it would be such a turn on like this.

you could see him through your peripheral vision as he tried to look everywhere but the bed in front of him. how his hands tried to frantically cover the very noticeable bulge under his sweats, and how he threw his head back every time you moaned heeseung's name into the air.

your boyfriend had been talking about inviting jungwon over to see the both of you do the deed. something about jungwon starting to look for hookups thanks to the influence of other friends (jake). and since heeseung was the closest one to him, why not teach him a few lessons?

your body jolted and shook as you started nearing your first high. your right hand landed perfectly on heeseung's hair to pull it, as your body arched hard and your eyes rolled to the back of your head. gasps were leaving your mouth as you came in your boyfriend's face, thanking the heavens for giving you a man with a skilled tongue like his.

"and that, won, is how you eat a girl out." he said, cleaning his chin with the back of his hand as he smacked your sensitive bud with the other, the gesture made your body shake again, a loud moan echoing the room.

the boy that was painfully sitting in a chair next to yours and heeseung's bed seemed to have his hand deep inside his sweatpants, probably trying to release some of the tension his poor cock was feeling.

"now, darling, why don't you help our special guest? hmm?"

you could see the way jungwon's face reddened even more, but his hand didnt seem to leave his dick at all. you nodded and with heeseung's help, you made it over to where the other boy was sitting. you knelt between his open legs, and asked if it was okay to touch him. the cat like boy in front of you looked over at your boyfriend for approval, who nodded in response, and mocked the same gesture.

you grabbed the hem of his sweats and boxers together, and pulled them down as fast as you could. the sudden cold air of the room made jungwon moan as it hit his sensitive member. it seemed like he was suffering a lot from the amount of precum leaking from his tip, and how hard and red it looked.

"she will help you, jungwon. trust me, her head is just as good as mine is."

you took that as your queue to go. your hand wrapped around jungwon's rock hard cock and started moving up and down. his eyes rolled to the back of his face as he threw it back in the chair, staring at the ceiling with teary eyes. it was definitely a different sensation than his own hand, and it was filling his head with clouds.

you spat on his tip, your saliva mixing with his precum before taking him in with your mouth. the sensation felt so ridiculously delicious to him that you had felt his cock twitch already. heeseung was seeing everything from the bed, his own clothes now gone and his cock in hand.

he got up from where he was sitting, pushing your head further into jungwon's dick. this made the other's body shake in response, his head shot up, wide eyes looking down at heeseung's hand on the top of your head, keeping you in place. "breathe through your nose, darling. take it in like a good girl."

the scene seemed to be taken out of the porn videos jungwon had watched on his own, and fuck was it hot. it was enough for him to cum in your mouth. heeseung was able to tell his friend was done by the change in pitch of his voice, letting go of your head to let you breathe. your own head shot up, mixtures of saliva and cum running from the corners of it as you gasped for air.

"i will let you stuff her whole, won. but no funny business. either you cum outside or you dont get to cum at all, understood?"

-

and thats how your body was being used by your boyfriend and one of his closest friends. jungwon was taking instructions from a very calm heeseung who had his cock fucking your face. your head was running to the verge of insanity. the third party was definitely hitting the right spots for it to be his first time. but yet again, he was being led by heeseung. there was no one that knew your body better than him.

"taking two cocks at a time, nobody's having it like you are, baby" heeseung cooed, ramming his hips harder and faster, the way he moved your entire body with his force was enough to have you fucking back into jungwon, who was having the time of his life. you hummed when you felt your boyfriend's dick twitch, the vibrations helping him cum.

the taste was sweeter than jungwon's, probably because you were used to it already. heeseung pulled out, quickly kissing your forehead. it was a pleasant view seeing his friend taking your pussy from behind, but he knew nobody could make you feel the way he did, so there wasnt much to worry.

"fuck jungwon... try to hit that same spot again." you said, your hand intertwined with heeseung's for moral support. the way his own name rolled of your sweet tongue made jungwon twitch yet again. he was fast to find that spot that had you seeing starts and cussing out loud, body coming to it's second orgasm of the day.

your walls felt empty when jungwon pulled his dick out, ropes of white cum landing on the bedsheets. he didnt want heeseung coming for him, although he would've loved to cum inside.

you were exhausted to say the least, and heeseung was more than welcome to take care of you for doing such a good job. not without praising jungwon as well, telling him he was ready to go make girls cum on his own. but if he felt like needed more practice, the both of you were available any time. and to be honest, you hoped he came back again.

© glitterjay | tumblr

[tallulah477]

Too Much

Pairing: Neteyam x Fem!Human!Reader

Warnings: AgedUp!Neteyam, Oral (female receiving), Kuru/Queue Play, Overstimulation, Multiple Orgasms, Cumming Untouched

Word Count: 2K

A/N: I wrote this entire thing today and I'm a little delirious right now so if you see mistakes - no you don't

Summary: Neteyam licks your pussy while you lick his kuru

Translations:

Kuru/Neural Queue - Used to bond with animals and other Na'vi

Yawne - Beloved

Tewng - Loincloth

Neteyam’s golden eyes are dazed and hooded as he gazes up at you from his spot between your thighs. His pupils are blown wide, so large they practically swallow up the entire iris, leaving just a thin ring of yellow around the edges. If you look hard enough, you can see your own reflection mirrored in them - mouth open and gasping for air, hands tangled in your hair just to have something to hold onto as Neteyam devours your puffy pussy like his most favorite meal. 

His face is wet as he presses harder against you, mouth and chin glistening in the sunlight from where your wetness coats them. His flat nose bumps your clit as his tongue presses deeper inside of you, your soaked hole clenching around his invading tongue. He moans at the feel of you tightening around him, hot breath fanning over your pussy as he licks you deeper.

He looks drunk already, drunk on you and the taste of your juices on his taste buds. His ears flick at each and every moan and shaky sigh that escapes your lips, intent on catching them all as he eats you out, eager to earn more of your pretty noises. He’s made you cum on his tongue once already, back arching and crying loudly, your shouts of pleasure echoing through the little meadow he has you spread out in as he growled into your cunt. 

When you came down from your high, he didn’t stop. His dark honey eyes narrowed at you, as if daring you to try to move away from him as his hands readjusted their grip on your thighs. Your legs shook in his grip as he redoubled his efforts, spitting and sucking on your sensitive pussy like you had somehow deprived him of it for years instead of him going on a three day long hunting trip away from you. 

Your squeals of overstimulation quickly turned back into wanton moans of pleasure as he worked you back up towards that point of bliss. 

His tongue pulls from inside you, licking greedily up your puffy slit before wrapping his lips around your swollen clit. Your back arches against the moss underneath you as he sucks on the aching bud, a high pitched whine tearing from your throat as one of your hands untangles from your hair and clutches at the back of his head. 

Your legs spasm in his hold, thighs clenching around his head as your second orgasm shatters through you. You cry as your pussy clenches around nothing, the need to be filled up by Neteyam’s thick cock overwhelming as tears of pleasure drip from your eyes and cling to your lashes. You want him to fuck you so badly, want to feel him inside you, pounding your cunt and bruising your cervix with his powerful thrusts until your too dumb and cockdrunk to even remember your own name. 

But he won’t. He’s so mean, leaving you for days, all alone without your mate to fill you up like you deserve. And then he comes home, gorgeous and loving and desperate for you, and he still won’t give it to you. 

And he’s not done with you either. 

He works you through the end of your orgasm - plush, sinful lips letting go of your still pulsing clit in favor of pressing gentle kisses to the inside of your thigh. He allows you a moment of respite this time, letting you try to regain your breath, sucking in as much air into your lungs as you can from what the oxygen tubes in your nose provide. But he’s still holding your thighs open, fingers gripping into the delicate flesh as his kisses along your skin get more heated. 

“You can give me another one, won’t you?” He mumbles, voice raspy and deep with a need he still hasn’t quenched. Your hole clenches again from the sound of it despite itself. 

“Teyam,” You whimper, your hand on his head trying in vain to keep his wandering kisses away from your oversensitive core. “T-too much. Can’t,”

“Yes, you can,” He says, pressing a feather light kiss to your clit. “Just one more. I swear.”

He dives back in again, soaked face suffocating itself as he presses tightly against your center. His tongue laves over your sticky cunt, pressing flat as he licks up your abused slit. Your eyes squeeze shut as his rough tongue swipes against your raw clit, shocks of a glorious combination of pleasure and pain shooting up your spine and frying your brain as you cry out underneath him. 

Your hand claws at the back of his head, torn between wanting to shove his head away and keeping it pressed against your core as he drowns himself in your juices. Your hand pushes through his hair, the smaller braids moving and caressing against your smaller fingers as they subconsciously find the thick braid at the back of his skull. Your fingers wrap around the braid as best as they can, gripping onto the base of his kuru, using your hold on the most intimate part of him as leverage as your body decides to keep him where he is. 

Neteyam groans against your clit when you accidentally squeeze tighter, hand closing around the neural queue with a vice-like grip. It’s so much louder than normal, the guttural groan echoing through the meadow. Your head snaps up, hand immediately loosening its hold on the braid, worried that you’ve hurt him. 

“Shit, Tayem. Are you–”

But he whines at the loss of contact, one of his hands untangling itself from its grip on your thigh to grab yours and replace it back at the base of his kuru. 

Your fingers wrap around it again, giving another experimental squeeze and watching as Neteyam grunts, eyes fluttering shut at the pressure, and wrapping his lips around your clit again, sucking harshly in retaliation. The suction on your aching clit makes you squeeze tighter, twin whines of pain mixed with pleasure echoing from both of your mouths at the rough treatment on your sensitive parts. 

Your legs tremble, hips bucking into Neteyam’s mouth as he uses his iron grip on your thighs to keep your hips pressed against the moss covered ground. To distract yourself from Neteyam’s torture on your cunt, your fingers trail down the length of his kuru, gentle fingers stroking the glossy hair braided around the queue as you pull it over his shoulder. 

Neteyam purrs and the vibrations on your cunt only serve to make you wetter. You can feel yourself dripping down your asscheeks - strings of your own wetness, cum, and Neteyam’s spit curving over your bottom and dripping onto the forest floor beneath you. Movement from Neteyam’s lower half catches your attention as his hips hump slowly against the ground. His golden eyes glare up at you, flicking between your own and the image of his most sacred body part held vulnerable in your hand. His mouth is full, and he doesn’t seem to be willing to part with your drenched core for even a second to say what he’s thinking, but he doesn’t have to - his eyes say it all, daring you to do what you’ve always wanted. 

Play with me, yawne. Do it. 

Your breathing is shaky as you slide your hand down to the tip, fingers curling around the thinner end of his kuru before twisting your wrist and encouraging the tips of his hair to fall apart, exposing the glowing pink tendrils that are housed inside. Neteyam’s tongue swipes frantically up and down along your slit, a testament to how restless he is as he watches you examine the exposed bits of his nervous system. 

The tendrils writhe under your gaze, just as restless and excited as their owner as they wriggle around helplessly in your grip. They seem like they’re reaching for you, twisting and leaning towards you as far as they can stretch. You’ve always wanted to touch them, wanted to feel what they would feel like on your fingers. They would wrap around you so tight, but at the same time so delicate, just like they twine around each other when Neteyam bonds with the Spirit Tree.

Your free hand reaches up, fingers just a breath away from finally touching those pink tendrils. They reach back for you, stretching towards your outstretched fingers, desperate for something to bond with. Neteyam stops his assault on your cunt, heavy breath fanning over you as he stares up at you in awe, waiting with bated breath for the moment your tiny fingers make contact with them. 

But the look on his face has you feral, and the thought that he’s tormented you with this tongue all afternoon has you dropping your hand away from the pink, wiggly tendrils and replacing them with your tongue instead. Neteyam cries out at the first touch of your tongue, eyes rolling back into his head as his upper body shoots up, one of his hands slamming against the ground as full bodied shivers wrack his body. The tendrils feel electric on your tongue, writhing and frantic as you slowly drag your tongue over them. They try to grip onto the wet muscle, but they can’t find purchase as it glides against them. They slide off your tongue when you reach the tips, squirming in the air before you bring them to your tongue again, loving the way they try to attach to you but can do nothing but twitch and wiggle under your devious torment. 

Neteyam collapses back into the cradle of your thighs, momentarily forgetting about your cunt as his head rolls to the side, eyes squeezing shut as he digs his face into the inside of your thigh, whimpering like he’s being tortured. Good, you think, grinning as you continue to tongue at the sensitive nerves. Payback’s a bitch. 

But as soon as the thought materializes, his mouth is back on you again, hot and insistent on your clit as he glares up at you again like he can hear what you’re thinking. He shakes his face against your pussy, animalistic growls vibrating into your cunt as his fingers dig into the fat of your hips. You squeal, moaning loudly against the tendrils sitting on your tongue and Neteyam lets out a low whine, hips once again humping into the ground underneath him, faster and more desperate as he grinds his aching cock against the moss. You’ve never seen his eyes so hazy before. Somehow he’s with you - here, in this moment - and also someplace far away at the exact same time. He licks your clit with a renewed vigor, pleasure shooting through your body with each perfect swipe of his tongue, and you make sure to reward each and every one of his licks with a lick of your own against his tendrils. 

Another orgasm rushes towards you, relentless and damning as the coil in your belly tightens past the point of no return. It threatens to tear you apart when it hits, washing over you in a mixture of overstimulation and pure bliss, and you cum on Neteyam’s tongue for the third time today - shaking and moaning with the tendrils still wrapping eagerly around your tongue. 

When you come back to yourself, Neteyam is climbing over you, still panting as he holds himself up with one arm. He gently grabs the top of his kuru with one hand, fingers curling around your smaller ones where the braid stops before the visible nerves peek out. With a deep shaky breath, he pulls his kuru back, slowly dragging the glowing tendrils from their found happy place along your tongue. They separate, held only together by a thin strand of saliva before that breaks away too, and you can feel yourself mourn the loss already. 

“You’re a bad girl, yawne,” He says, cupping your cheek tenderly. “Abusing something so sacred like that.”

“And you’re a bad boy,” You reply, smirking as your eyes fall to the large wet patch now visible in his loincloth. “Good boys don’t cum in their tewngs untouched like that.”

Neteyam hums, leaning down to nip playfully at your chin. “You definitely touched me, that’s for sure,”

You giggle, a teasing hand gently caressing the painstakingly braided cord still handing over his shoulder. “Can I touch it again?”

Neteyam’s smile is blinding as he leans down to kiss you.

Taglist: @eywaite @loaksulluyswife @erenjaegerwifee @f-cklife @beautiful-brown-skin-05 @anastasia1777-blog @localjasmine @tsewtx @skywonder @neteyamswillow @luvv4j4ybe11

[copias-juicebox]

x

[i-am-hungry-24-7]

Standing a step behind you, watching you from afar, is already my biggest happiness.

Sorry for spamming I accidentally put the post in queue two times, this is the proofread and correct one the previous one is not :']

Price + Ghost*Reader

Price

Price doesn’t want to bind you to him. He’s nearly 40, plus the rank difference between you two, he’s a mature superior, no personal feelings should be involved in the workplace.

Not to say, he doesn’t sense even a tiny bit of romantic love from you, every time he tries to hide his affection towards you, he only sees respect for comrades in your eyes.

Even till the day you jump out and take a bullet for him as he gets knocked down accidentally, which ends up with the enemy dying, but you become lifeless in his arms, blood painting his palms and gear, he still believes you just view him as a teammate.

As he steps into your silent quarter and reads the words written in the journal, he slumps onto the bed, speechless as sorrow swallowing him that he needs to bite his lips until he tastes the bitter to stop him from crying.

“Personal feelings won’t be allowed, I can see Captain comply with this rule without exceptions.” ��but it’s okay if it means I can stay beside him.” “It’s already a bliss that I can watch him from afar.”

He’s seasoned with gravel and pain, which ends up making a choice to free you from caging with him and hide his love, but unknown to him, you’re better at secreting yourself.

Ghost

He’s an expert at hiding and perceiving other’s feelings, not a single human —even his captain— is able to conceal the true thoughts running in their mind from him.

He knows he views you differently , not the family love like he owns for other 141 members, but the need to stay beside you forever, become old together if you both are pardoned from dying on the field at a young age.

The emotion plants a seed in his heart, sprouting as time flows, and when he realizes, the branches are already entangled with his heart.

Yet he chooses to lock those feelings inside the deepest part of him, he stares at you secretly with an amount of distance, always got your six and protects you, but never closer.

He’s afraid if standing too close to you, the sentiment will break through his mask and reveal it to you.

No one left behind, that’s his motto, yet he derogates it the moment he watches you shove the enemy badgering him off his body and over the railing, but he can’t catch your hands as he helplessly witnesses you tumble over inevitably.

You leave nothing, not even your body has been found, since the bomb exploded and perish you and the enemy together.

But when he flips through your journal in your room, he takes off his balaclava, letting it fall to the floor carelessly, as he discovers it does nothing to hide the truth from you.

“Something’s holding Ghost back, but I can wait, until he’s comfortable enough to take a step, even if it means years.” “I imagine we getting old together, but am I provided with such privilege?” “Maybe not, hence I’m already extremely satisfied to have a chance to watch him from afar.”

He assumes he’s excels at observing people, but what he’s unaware of is after he stares at you across the room and turns away eventually, your eyes land on him and never dart either.

a/n: thx for reading, have a nice day/night! :D

[loveforquanrui]

hii!! can i please req how zb1 would act when you sleep on the couch after an argument 💓

hi nonnie!! sorry i took a while to get to your request school was starting so my attention was on that! but here you go I hope you like it. also i didn't feel comfortable writing yujin since I wrote this in the sense of ZB1 being in romantic relationships so I did not want to include yujin.

-Jiwoong-

if that's what you want he would understand

he would be so sad though :((

he wouldn't annoy you by begging you to go back to bed

instead he stays up all night hoping you're gonna go back to him

but no you are stubborn and strong willed so you sleep on the couch

when you wake up to your surprise he is fast asleep next to you

-Hanbin-

oh hanbin :')

the moment you said you would sleep on the couch, hanbin was ALERT

he would not even let you make contact with the couch

"please let's just talk it out"

in the case that you don't want to talk to him though..

he would just hold your hand all night until you talk to him

and then he would talk through the argument and try to find a solution right away

hanbin just doesn't want you to go to sleep feeling sad or angry :(

so ofc our little hamster is going to do anything to make you feel better and to make up for the argument

-Hao-

Hao is an introvert

his first instinct is to give you space, since it's what he would want

so he would go to your shared bedroom thinking you would join him later

but when night time hit and you still weren't there he got worried

despite his begging you were adamant that you would sleep on the couch

so while you went to shower, he prepared anything you may need

blankets? check. comfy slippers? check?

but before you could even see him prepare all that for you

as quickly as he set that up, he quickly left to your shared bedroom

once you were fast asleep

hao would occasionally wake up to go check up on you

yes he understands that you're upset but that doesn't mean he's gonna stop being the amazing boyfriend he is

-Matthew-

the way this man would feel SO BAD (queue stayc)

the idea that you rather sleep on the uncomfy couch instead of the comfy bed in his arms..

yeah that was enough for him to run to you and apologize

matthew is sooo persistent

he would be apologizing all night and try to convince you to go back to bed

when you don't budge and are set on staying on the uncomfy couch

he takes matters into his own hand ;)

after an hour he has enough and flings you over his shoulder, takes you to the big bed, tucks you in and gives you a longing kiss

after doing so he is off the sleep in the couch

FORGIVE HIM PLS :(

-Taerae-

the way this man is so stubborn and petty

his pride is HIGH

he wouldn't even bat an eye when he sees you sleeping on the couch (BRO IS THAT PETTY)

he goes to bed in your shared bedroom not caring and giving you the cold shoulder

until 2 hours pass and he starts missing your warmth

that's when he gets up and looks at your sleeping figure from the hallway

he just stands there and contemplates whether he should wake you up

he does.

"i can't sleep please come back. im sorry i promise i won't do it again"

-Ricky-

this man is lucky he has such a face

at first he wouldn't tell you anything, his stare seems cold and blank when he sees you

he doesn't care, atleast on the outside

on the inside we know Ricky is literally crying

it hurts him so much seeing you rather be on the couch instead of with him

he lets you be and you fall asleep on the couch

to your surprise though when you wake up, you're met with the familiar morning light and the familiar blankets hugging your body

throughout the night, ricky watched until you fell asleep and when you he knew you were out, he carried you back to bed and slept next to you

when you turn around to see if ricky is in his usual spot, instead of your boyfriend you see a note

"im sorry please forgive me come to the kitchen"

when you get up and get to the kitchen you see multiple gifts and breakfast on the counter

a shy ricky holding the back of his neck saying "good morning"

-Gyuvin-

if you left the couch expecting to be alone, you are wrong.

the moment you leave to the couch, he is trailing behind you

gyuvin loves you too much he wouldn't let you be alone

lets alone would he let you go to sleep angry and alone

despite you not talking to him and giving him the cold shoulder

this man is cuddling up to you saying...

"i know you're upset but I love you and I don't want you feel like I don't"

you both end up making up but still sleep on the couch cuddled up together

when you wake up, gyuvin delivers breakfast in bed (the couch)

all day he is doing some sweet acts of service (THIS MAN IS SORRY FOR WHAT HE DID)

-Gunwook-

gunwook like hanbin would not let you fall asleep on the couch when you are upset

he understands what you are feeling and he wants you to know that

he insists that you guys fix the argument

when you refuse to (cause sometimes we be petty like that)

gunwookie sits on the floor next to the couch, holding your hand until you are willing to talk

when you can't take it anymore (he literally will not let go) you decide to give in and talk about the argument

you both talk and both apologize and come to an understanding

after communicating the problem you guys go to your shared bedroom holding each other

guys gunwook would be such an amazing boyfi

[whencartoonsruletheworld]

my pitch for a phineas and ferb-themed ride at the disney parks (hire me disney you cowards)

the queue is an interior building with pnf-themed decorations. kinda like the figment ride in epcot, a lot of it is winding through a "museum" of pnf and/or doof inventions. most of those inventions disappeared of course, so they're models, parts in glass cases, etc. overhead are tv monitors that play a shuffled loop of phineas and ferb songs, but bc there are so many good songs they can use it hopefully won't get repetitive unless you're there for nine hours. the exception to this is one small part of the queue (small to avoid people being stuck there too long) where it exclusively plays the quirky worky song and you see the pnf gang building the ride you're about to go on, either as statues/figures or through a "screen" that shows looping animation

you get onto the coaster car from the first episode as phineas, baljeet or isabella reads the safety spiel over the loudspeaker. actually as i'm typing this it might be fun to loop each of the backyard gang doing their own version that'd be cute

the ride takes off and you hear the vamp from the "rollercoaster" song as you're loading in.

once inside, the ride is styled like epcot's guardians of the galaxy ride, where you're on a track looping through a mix of screens and sets. the first part plays more of the "rollercoaster" song as you run through the "coolest coaster ever" scenes.

miscellaneous room/scene ideas: fireside girl action segment, carpe diem room, obviously a space segment w/ meap and queen candace and the catu aliens, obligatory scary bit through the haunted house, rock concert w/ love handel, backyard beach/atlantis, owca headquarters, 2nd dimension bit (might be too confusing for new fans?), relatively normal area where candace is gesturing wildly to a linda animatronic that won't turn around and see the rollercoaster car, idk a hamster & gretel segment or smth

a little bit in, you hear a beep and a call for agent p. a small animatronic of perry rises from the front of the car as you enter a tunnel, where a screen of major monogram tells perry to get his ass to doofenshmirtz evil incorporated to fight doof. perry salutes and slides back down into the car, and the ride then takes a "wrong track" (kinda like when you run into a "broken track" on everest) to DEI.

we go inside and see animatronics of perry fighting doof as an inator sparks. it goes off, sending us down yet another "wrong track," which shoots through wilder parts of danville. at the climax, we start looping and the climax of the "rollercoaster" song starts playing ("we're rightside-up and upside-down...")

at the end of the ride, we see an animatronic/animation of doof hanging upside-down from rope as perry glares at him cross-armed, and doof intermittently yells "curse you, perry the platypus!" on a screen, monogram congratulates the riders for saving the tri-state area with agent p. perry makes platypus noise.

you go to another room, right before the exit. you see candace pointing to an empty backyard, saying stuff like "but it was right here! and it was huge!" as phineas and ferb sit under the tree and address the guests. if you're far enough away from the last room, perry can be sitting under them being cute.

the exit queue has posters for dwampyverse stuff, like "love handel reunion", "doctor zone: the movie", the og rollercoaster poster, etc.

you exit in a gift shop where you can buy perry the platypus inaction figure (he doesn't do anything!) and big sticks

lastly,

you know when rides break down or stop for a sec and you get in-character voiceovers telling you to stay seated or w/e? i think we should have three that loop: one of doof giving a basic spiel, one of milo murphy being like "yeah i went on the ride. sorry about that. it should start working soon lol" and one where literally the whole thing is candace yelling "NO MOM I SWEAR IT'S A WORKING ROLLERCOASTER AND PHINEAS AND FERB BUILT IT! MOM LISTEN–"

[finelinevogue]

overwhelmed

summary - you’re overwhelmed but luckily you have harry

pairing - boyfriend!harry x reader

word count - ~1k

“Hey, I came as quick as I could.”

Harry was ushered inside by Maya, your best friend. Harry was wearing joggers and a baggy hoodie - since it was 2AM and he had been sleeping.

“I’m actually slightly scared. You live like twenty minutes away and I only got off the phone with you like twelve ago…” Maya chuckled, shutting the door behind them.

“Yeah I might’ve already been out of the door and in the car by the time our phone call ended.” Harry rubbed the back of his neck nervously.

“Well you certainly win boyfriend of the year.”

“Speaking of, where’s Y/N?”

“Curled up on the sofa.” Maya showed Harry the way through.

“Still upset?”

“It’s scary how she doesn’t run out of tears…”

Harry chuckled because he knew all too well.

Maya showed Harry to where you were curled up on the sofa, blanket tucked high up your body and tissue in your hand. You were staring at the room - not particularly looking at anything.

“Thanks.” Harry smiled at Maya and she took it as her queue to hang back in the kitchen.

Harry rounded the sofa and slowly came into your line of vision, not wanting to startle you.

“Hey, my pretty girl.” Harry smiled when he saw your puffy eyes and red cheeks from crying so much. “What’s all the fuss about, hm?”

“Harry.” You pouted and then started to cry again, cupping your hands over your eyes because you were so embarrassed he was seeing you like this.

Your relationship was 5 months new and even though you’d already had arguments and cried in front of each other, it’d never been like this.

This was full on sob and snot crying.

You didn’t even cry like this on your period.

“Hey, hey. What’s this about?”

Harry did in fact know what this was all about, after being rung by Maya when she’d gotten concerned about how much you were upset.

What’s strangest about this situation is Harry knew you weren’t even upset by something that had hurt your feelings. If anything, you were upset because you were feeling too much.

“Hello?” Harry answered the phone groggily, wincing as his eyes adjusted to the bedside lamp.

“Hi Harry. I’m sorry to wake you.”

“No, no it’s fine. Is there a reason you’re calling off Y/N’s phone, Maya?”

“Harry… Y/Ns a little upset.” Harry sat up in bed then, “Actually, a lot upset. I didn’t want to call but i’m getting kind of worried.”

“What’s happened? Is Y/N okay? Are you guys safe?”

“Yeah we’re in my house. It’s just, we had quite a bit of wine to drink and got to talking about relationships and then Y/N started talking about you. At first she was all giddy and happy but then she started getting herself worked up about how perfect you are and how she doesn’t think she deserves you.”

Harry liked the thought that you liked him a little bit more than you lead on, but he didn’t like that it came at the expense of your anxiety. Anxiety you had tried so hard to overcome from previous relationships.

“Can I come over?” Harry asked, already getting himself out of bed.

Harry sat on the sofa next to you, picking you up gently so he could situate you in his lap. You didn’t take long to become comfortable, by throwing your arms around his neck and burying yourself into the safe crook of his neck.

“Ssh, shh. I’ve got you.” Harry kept repeating.

He rocked you ever so gently, just allowing you the comfort of being held.

“You’re here.” You said after you’d settled slightly.

“I’m here.”

“You’re the best.”

Harry smiled at that.

“I like to think so.”

You stroked his chin stubble, finding a strange calmness to the grizzle.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t.”

“No, but I am.”

“I don’t want you to be. Means you’re sorry about the reason you were upset in the first place and I actually quite liked the fact you maybe like me a little too much. If i’m being selfish.” Harry gave you a cheeky smirk that had you calming in an instance.

“I just got so overwhelmed.”

“I know.”

“Because… B-because….”

You looked up at Harry in his not-so-scary eyes and for once you found this part of a relationship easy.

“Go on.” He encouraged with a whisper.

“Because I love you.”

You smiled and felt your cheeks flush. Harry’s face copied your emotions and he leant down to give you a welcomed kiss.

“You love me?” He asked excitedly, kissing you again because he couldn’t deny himself.

“I do.”

“Hmm.” He giggled excitedly.

“Do you… do…”

“I love you. I love you. I fucking love you, Y/N.”

It was your turn to chuckle and let the tears well up in your eyes again.

“No, no, no. No more tears.” Harry was quick to rectify the situation by kissing you again, moulding his lips to yours like that’s what they’d been created to do.

“I feel five times more overwhelmed than I did before you arrived.” You said.

“Okaayyy…”

“But I also feel five time more safe and calm than I did before you arrived.”

[endereies]

YOU'RE MY PRIZE - MS

No Nut November - Day 17

NNN Masterlist...

-➤ Matt brings you to the carnival and wins just for you

When Matt said he had a surprise for you, you weren’t expecting to get out the vehicle at the main entrance of a famous carnival. 

It was only set up a few times a year, and with the queues, it wasn’t always an ideal situation. Ever since moving in with Matt, you’ve blabbed every time it sets up a new spot. After all, it was famous. The rides they hosted weren’t your average roller coasters and took several days to set up. Of course it had the classic helter-skelter and teacups. It was only when you looked deeper you saw the abundance of attractions. Set up haunted houses that genuinely left people horrified, stalls that seemed from creative aspect, and of course the Ferris wheel that was littered in light.  

“You’re kidding?!” The child like part of you rushed out as you jumped up and down, grabbing Matt’s tatted arm like a vice. 

“Figured it seemed like a perfect time” He wasn’t wrong about that, your anniversary had just past and he grabbed tickets off the website. You knew something was planned when you read through his card but he didn’t let up. His lips were sealed over the past week or so as you begged him for answers. Now that you had them and it was beaming in front of you, how could you ever complain. 

Once the roads were all clear, his hand was dragged by yours to the grand entrance. After all this time of you dreaming, it was stood before you. 

Matt handed over his phone to the manager and she handed it back, along with two tickets. You’d scanned everyone else’s ticket before yours and they seemed to be a lime scale sort of green. Yet yours were a deep purple. Your boyfriend thanked the manager before laughing at your confused face. “Read it, baby...”  

So, you did. The bold letters ‘VIP’ covered the back of the ticket in a gold colour. “What!” 

“If I am treating m’girl tonight, I’m doing it right. After all you deserve it”  

You both stopped walking as you practically tackled his side. Both of your hands gripped his body tightly, shoving your head into his shoulder “Thank you!” 

“You can thank me after, how about we enjoy ourselves.” 

Most of the evening was a collective of rides a day stalls. With the upgraded tickets that Matt got, most of the queues were cut short. But after a long while of the intense rides, the pair of you decided to sit down on a bench and eat some food. You both got burgers which you could see the steam come from as your order was handed to you. The homemade milkshake relaxed the bouts of energy inside. It was a comfortable silence you were in, one that left the sounds of the crowd, chewing and slurping in its wake. Your eyes started to scan the many stalls you had yet to venture down.  

Those games always seemed a scam and yet the child like spirit inside invited you so willingly. Matt giggled when he saw you eye up a certain stall. It was a line up of wooden clown slabs which had a bunch of cricket balls a few metres away. They seemed heavy in the way they shook but your eyes traced all the designs of them. 

“Want to go over?” Your shock from his voice made him giggle before repeating himself so you heard. “baby, do you want to do that one?”  

You knew he saw you gawk at it so there was no point in hiding your excitement. “Absolutely!” 

The burgers were quickly finished and discarded before you walked straight towards the  red stall, the stripes on the outside calling you. 

“Hey you two, think you can handle this?” The host gestured animatedly towards the rows of clowns. A smirk crossed your face as you instantly grabbed a note from your wallet and handed it to him. Matt finally met your side after you rushed ahead, watching a group of balls land just by your stomach. It was a lot more than the number of clowns and as soon as a timer started you knew why. 

After picking up the first ball, you swung your arm to throw at the centre of a clown’s face. The wood wobbled before clattering backwards. With spawned courage another ball quickly followed a larger clown and yet it barely moved.  

Sure you weren’t strong but even kids played this game, you couldn’t be that bad, right? By the time the buzzer for the timer rang, only four got pushed over. You hadn’t meant to sulk but your expression was clear. It was towards an obvious plushie you must’ve noticed, it was a cute otter stuffed animal that was curled up around its tail. 

“Let me have a go.” Matt’s voice was stern as he slammed a note on the wood next to the abandoned ball bucket. Your body turns back and the bag of balls gets replaced while the machine holds up the four clowns you knocked over previously. 

While they do so, you remain quiet so Matt can focus. His hand rises as he tosses the ball up and down in his palm, gathering its weight. Once the signal was given he leant back and pelted the ball, hammering down the clown you first attempted. It fell with such ease. 

Years of lacrosse and hockey built his strength and precision, he wasn’t going to disappoint. Ball after ball, each clown was clattering as they fell, rebounding slightly on the floor. He only stumbled on a few as when that buzzer rang, the last one bounced and sounded on the concrete. He tossed a spare ball into the bucket and handed it back to the host who was a little shocked at the intense strong skill he had. 

“Well..sir, which shall be your prize.” He smirked at you before he spoke. “That bottom otter please.” 

The host jumped slightly to grab the large otter off its hook and handed it to Matt. “Here. Congratulations!” They smiled at each other before setting up a game for another child. 

“Here baby, think this belongs to you.” Your face lit up as he pushed it towards you. “I saw you eyeing it up after you played. 

“Matt...you didn’t have to, this is so sweet” As much as you tried to hide it, you were so giddy to finally hold its softness against your chest. It was the perfect material and softness, it only made you thank Matt harder. 

“I love you Matt, thank you...” His hand came up to your chin, tilting your head towards him. 

“I love you more baby, besides, you’re my prize.” 

@melliflws @yuhayeee @st7rnioioss @sturn-bugz @bueckerrss @worldlxvlys @raysmayhem-72 @patscorner @y0urm4m @bernardsbendystraws @junnniiieee07 @luverboychris @jnkvivi @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @shorthairchris @colorthecosmos444 @anabethinking @zay-sturns @anyaa2s @emilyfaith2003 @jassturn @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut @sturniolosiphone @ribread03 @slutf4rmatt @spaghetti835928383 @flouvela

© ENDEREIES 2024

[tiredmamaissy]

Behind the Façade

🔞 minors, do not interact 🔞

Characters: Ao’nung (20) x Fem Metkayina Reader y/n (20)

Warnings: NSFW, smut, rut cycle, no foreplay, mostly sub ao’nung, mostly dom reader, slight power struggle, creampie/breeding kink, knotting, smidge of fluff, spitting mouth (kinda), awkward moment during sex, profanity

Word Count: 2.6k

Requested: Yes || No

Author’s Note: As requested. Bestie, this is for you @jiafeimagic

Synopsis: Ao’nung unexpectedly goes into rut in the middle of the night. You calm your mate. Simple dimple. Enjoy

Intro:

You and Ao’nung have been mated since the sully family sought uturu in your village. He likes to put on a brave face – a façade that he’s this big, bad bully, when really he’s softer than the flesh between your legs. His rut is more like a heat, similar to what you experience monthly - lasting for 3 days. You allow him to keep up his façade in public, being his little bitch that follows his every order. But behind closed doors, he’s yours to do whatever you want with.

----

“Y/n.” Ao’nung pants.

“Hmm?” You croak, trying to open your eyes.

All you can see is the luminescence of your own skin. Feeling around with your hand, you find that the space next to you in the bed is empty. You sit up and rub your eyes, hoping to figure out where your mate’s voice is coming from.

“Y/n.” He repeats, this time in a more frantic manner.

“What is it? you ask, worried that something is wrong with him. “Where are you?”

You squint your eyes, and scan the marui pod, looking for your mate. Two heavy lidded, purple eyes float in the corner of your room, watching you intently. They're dazed and full of lust. A sinking sensation plagues your stomach when you realize what’s happening.

Ao’nung’s rut came early.

You squint your eyes, trying to make out the figure in front of you. He's sitting in the corner, with his knees to his chest and his head in his hands.

“Sorry to wake you.” He grits his teeth. “I just... I can’t take it anymore.” He huffs, dropping his head between his knees.

You get out of bed and approach him slowly. “It’s alright, I know how intense your ruts are, my love.” You hum, kneeling to his level to stroke the length of his queue. “You should have woken me earlier.”

He’s trembling, shaking his head from side to side in his knees and panting heavily – he must have been enduring this all night long. Leaning into your touch, he rubs his face into your bosom, closing his eyes and inhaling your scent. You shush him, rubbing circles into his back.

“Shh. Shh, baby boy. You’ll be alright, I’m here now.” You reassure him, laying his legs flat on the floor as you mount him.

His legs are now between your knees as you tower over him, shortening the distance between your hot bodies.

“I want this.” Ao’nung whines, cupping the soft flesh between your legs. “...please.” He whimpers, looking up at you through the dip of your breasts, with inebriated, glowing eyes - begging for some relief.

“How could I ever say no to these eyes?” You whisper, moving his hands to your waist.

Using a single finger to lift his chin, you kiss him fervently, swirling your tongue around his. You shuffle even closer to him, lowering your pelvis onto his crotch – sticky from his own slick. He’s already rock-hard, writhing his pelvis into the softness between your thighs. You share each other’s hot breaths between wet kisses as your hands explore every inch of your bodies.

He’s whimpering quietly into your mouth, succumbing to the urges of his rut, trying to fuck you through your loincloth. His movements are impatient – full of desperation and desire for his mate. Unable to form a coherent thought, he allows his body to speak to you, begging to be inside of you. His hands slide down to your hips, gripping it tightly, using it as leverage to grind even harder against you.

You move your sloppy kisses down his face, planting bruise-like marks on his jawline and neck. You linger there, filling your lungs with his potent pheromones, intoxicating your body with his scent. His pheromones remind you of the salty ocean, mixed with the scent of the sap of a mangrove. You know that you wouldn’t be able to satiate him if you weren’t high, too – his rut is just too intense for that.

“Tsheylu, Ao’nung.” You mumble into his neck, moving your hand to the base of his queue.

His movements are eager, tugging at your queue to bring it closer to his. It sends small shocks down your spine as he makes the bond eagerly. In an instant, the heat and fogginess of his rut transfers to you, putting you in a trance, too. Your hips pick up speed, whining and grinding against his member whilst he kisses your shoulders.

“...please, y/n.” He lets out a lengthy mewl, squeezing his eyes shut. “...f-fuck me.”

His eyes fly open, glossy and glowing in the dim light. You witness his pupils morph into slits. He’s now at the height of it, and if you didn’t give it to him soon – he would just take it for himself. This part of his rut always frightened you a bit, he would go from begging on his knees to forcefully-taking-what’s-his in a split second. You slip the thin cloth covering your breasts over your head, and fiddle with the knot of your loincloth with trembling fingers.

“Hurry. I need you now.” He grunts urgently, untying his own loincloth in a hurry.

“I’m trying, I’m trying” you pant, struggling with the knot due to the darkness of the room.

In frustration, Ao’nung rips your loincloth down the middle and throws it aside. He’s fighting with himself, trying his hardest to be gentle with you, but he just wants to shove his knot inside of you already. He’s rubbing his veiny cock against your sticky cunt, getting off from the feeling of your clit rolling against his tip.

“Stretching. Do you need it?” he mumbles, as his fingers burrow their way between your hips, frantically searching for your hole.

“No.” You yank his hand out by his wrist.

“What I need is...” you line up his tip with your slippery hole, “...this huge cock.” You moan loudly in his ear as you slowly slide his entire length inside of you.

He lets loose a lengthy, guttural groan, finally getting the attention his cock has been begging for. He softens under your touch, burying his face into your chest, hiding his expression from you as he hums into your breasts. Gripping him by the neck, you push him away, and stare at his erotic expression.

“I like seeing your face when I ride, understood?” You purr.

Your taken aback when you realize why he hid his face. You can feel his cock throbbing in your cunt, already emptying it’s seed inside you. He’s gritting his teeth, trying to bite back his lewd noises as he rocks into you, ensuring that your womb gets every drop of his sticky cum. The pure bliss – the ecstasy that he’s feeling from the gummy, hot walls that clench around his cock is unbearable.

“Are you cumming? Already?" You ask quickly, trying to hold back your laugh.

"All from me putting it in? Fucking pathetic.” You spit, watching his face contort from overstimulation as you start moving your hips.  

“Haah.. ah... Fuck.” He lets out choked pants, glaring at you through his slits. His cheeks redden even more, he's clearly embarrassed by his quick release. He buries his face back into your breasts.

“I’m sorry, you just feel so fucking good.” He huffs, pushing himself even deeper into you, ensuring his cum makes its way into your womb.

“Shit. Still going? Was that not enough for you?" You grab a fist full of hair at the back of his head and pull him from your chest, looking directly into his eyes.

"Fuck... trying to drill yourself into my womb like that.” You drop your gaze to your sticky pelvises.

“Such a pitiful sight...” You moan, looking back up into his drunk, pleading eyes. “Now, beg.” You whine your hips on him ever so slightly, massaging his cockhead with your cervix.

He clenches his jaw and swallows his spit. “Please.” He growls begrudgingly.

You start lifting your hips off him. “Oh? That didn’t sound very genuine. I see I am not needed anymore.”   

“Wait. Fuck. P-please y/n.” he grabs your hips, pulling them back down onto his cock. “Please... I need you. I can’t live without you. Please, I can’t take this anymore.” He sobs, looking up at you with watery eyes.  

A grin plasters your face as you start riding his cock, firmly gripping his throat for support.

“I love when you listen to me.” You grind onto his cock, already feeling a little bulge growing at the base of it. “Whoa... I can feel your knot already, Ao’nung.” You whisper, feeling your face heat up.

You glance at him to see that his eyes are closed – face contorted from how good your pussy feels around his cock. He really looks like he might cum inside of you again, all from just a few thrusts of your hips.  

“Woman, you feel too good.” He groans, dipping his head back.

“I know. I know, baby boy.” You moan, feeling his tip poking against your sweet spot. “You feel good too... I can feel you heating up inside of me. Gonna cum for me again?” You chuckle under your breath.

Ao’nung’s body is taking control, thrusting his hips upwards as they chase the warmth of the slick that coats the walls of your cunt. He’s whimpering from the overstimulation – but he can’t stop rutting into you. His sweet, little moans are becoming louder in your ears as he buries his face into your shoulder. You can feel his cock jumping inside you, ready to burst and fill you to the brim with his seed.

“Talk to me, Ao’nung. What do you want?” you breathe, picking up speed.

“Haa.. ah. I want... Ngh – I want to get you pregnant...” he whines, looking back up into your eyes. “Please... bear my child, y/n...” his head slumps forward, back into your chest. “Please...” his pleads are muffled from the plump flesh of your breasts. “...I’ll do anything”

“Good boy.” You moan, chasing your own climax now.

“Ugh... it is coming, y/n. L-let me cum inside of you... Please.” he whines loudly, manhandling your hips.

Through the bond, you can feel the heat pooling in his chest as he wills himself not to cum until you give him permission. Not only that, but you can feel his enormous, veiny knot poking at your entrance, begging to rip you into two. Knowing that this is only the beginning of his 3-day-long rut, you want to start slow – so not to tire yourself out.

“No knotting yet, my love.” You pant, trying to lift your hips off him. He drives his fingernails into your hips and shoves you back down onto his knot. “Fuck. Control yourself, Ao’nung.” You whimper, feeling it stretch you out.

“Please...my love.” he begs.

He’s pushing his cock even deeper into you, trying to break through the walls that prevent his knot from popping inside of you. He’s completely consumed by his urges to turn you into a vessel to carry the heir to Olo’eyktan – to carry his son. You see his thoughts, as he imagines you heavily pregnant with his child. Soon, you feel this urge too, wanting to be his little breeding bitch.

“Oh, fuck it.” You huff, going over the edge from the mere image flashing through your head. “Fill me up, Ao’nung. Give me your fat knot.”

He rams his knot into you in one quick thrust, forcefully holding you down onto his pelvis as he cums deep inside you yet again. His tip is drilling through your cervix, directly into your womb – spurting thick ropes of his hot seed inside of you. It sends you over the edge, finally allowing yourself to release your own orgasm, pulsing around his cock as your walls milk him dry.

You slump into your mate, who’s finally feeling some sort of relief. You look down into his face as the room is becoming brighter from the suns emergence, and see that his heavy lids are finally closing – covering his dark blue eyes. He rocks into you every so often, putting you into a state of comatose, too. You’re both breathing heavily, trying to catch your breath and calm down from your high.

Only an hour passes until he’s tugging at your entrance, trying to pull his knot out of you – pinching himself and you in the process. This is what you didn’t want from the get-go, but it’s too late now and his rut has only just started. He’s nipping at your neck, tracing your jugular with his pointed fangs, silently asking to mark his mate. You too are deep in the thick of his pheromones, feeling woozy and jaded.

“Yes... do it, ma’ nung.” You hum, feeling the bite of his sharp teeth, piercing your skin as he marks you as his.

His urges take the forefront, as he thrusts in and out of you causing his partially deflated knot to pop in and out of you. This continues for the rest of the day, in the same position. You’re completely numb now, unsure of how many times he’s knotted you, as your abused hole is just dripping with his cum.

“Ao’nung...” you croak, trying to get off him for the fifth time. “I’m hungry... and thirsty.”

“Mmnn... come” he kisses you sloppily, spitting in your mouth as a poor attempt at quenching your thirst. “...better?” he moans, still deep in a trance.

“No... skxwang. I need real water.” you groan, pushing him off you and crawling away.

He pounces on you, knocking you on your stomach as he mounts you again. He slides himself inside of you and starts bucking his hips, desperate to breed you once more - despite the extreme overstimulation. Both of you were fucked out raw, but he couldn’t help it – he couldn’t stop himself. You lay there and take it, just grateful to finally be in a new position.

----

You open your eyes to see a bright room. The sun was out and shining vibrantly. The dead weight on top of you makes you winded, knocking all the air out of your lungs. You look behind you to see Ao’nung slumped over your shoulder, sleeping soundly. You groan from the soreness, reaching down to your pelvis to feel if he’s still inside of you.

The answer is simple – yes. He is. You feel a little more, to find that his knot has finally gone down enough to pull him out of you. You shove him off your back, and crawl towards the bucket of water in the corner of the pod – breaking tsaheylu.

Gulping loudly, you chug the water, quenching your extreme thirst at last. You pull away and finally take a deep breath, looking back at your mate. You're met with his delirious gaze. You sympathize with him, feeling awful that it took three full days of this to calm down.

“Oh, baby boy.” You mumble, shuffling back over to him with a cup of water. You stroke his hair – wet from sweat. “It’s over now.” You pull his limp body into your lap, supporting his head with your breast.

“Drink.” He laps up the water greedily, not realizing how thirsty he was until it wet his dry lips.

“Y/n. I love you. Only you truly see me.” He stares longingly at you, with his light blue, teary eyes.

“I love you, too ma’ nung.” You lean down to kiss his wet lips.

He pulls away from you, panting heavily. “No. I mean it. I will stay by your side for the rest of my life.”

You smile at him, feeling the warmth in your heart, and kiss him gently.  

----

After cleaning, feeding and watering one another you both walk out of your marui pod to be met with the bewildered eyes of no one other than Lo’ak, Neteyam and Roxto. Ao’nung slips back into his usual self, walking towards the na’vi with an aggressive demeanor. You follow closely behind him, with your eyes locked onto your feet. It was obvious that you two were loud enough for them to hear you.

“What is wrong with you freaks?” Ao’nung spits, puffing out his chest.

Lo’ak laughs, mocking Ao’nung. “Oooh, y/n. ‘only you truly see me’.”

“Lo’ak! Come on brother. I thought the ‘I will stay by your side for the rest of -” Neteyam taunts, being cut off by Ao’nung shoving him in the chest. Roxto tries to keep his smile to himself, finding the whole ordeal amusing.

“Agh.” Ao’nung spit, rolling his eyes before turning around and walking away.

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