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wheneclipsefalls · 7 months ago

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Little Gift - Latch

Neteyam photo by @cinetrix

Pairing: Dark Aged Up Neteyam x Human Fem Reader

Warnings: aged up characters, DUBCON/NONCON, kidnapping, MDNI EXPLICIT, yandered qualities, possessive behavior, slight degradation, interspecies intimacy, swearing, power imbalance, sub reader, dom Neteyam, manipulation, hair pulling, creampie, a lot more stuff but at this point you hopefully know whether or not you should read haha

Summary: Victory is finally his and Neteyam knows exactly how he wants to celebrate it.

A/N: A little unsure about my word choice but it's been fun writing from Neteyam perspective for the first time in this series. Enjoy!

Main Masterlist I Little Gift Masterlist

You belong here, perched on his lap with your head notched against his shoulder. So small and pretty that his legs barely register your body weight. He wraps a hand around your outer thigh to angel you further against him. This is perfect.

Everything is perfect.

Pandora has rid of those Sky Demons and his prize, his little gift, is still here in his arms where you will always be. Those traitors are no longer here to tempt you with false promises of escape and a life outside of belonging to the Olo’eyktan. You may not realize it now but they would have broken you. It is only a miracle from Eywa that has allowed your beautiful spirit to stay in tack after all those years of inhabiting the same space as those treacherous creatures.

The RDA may think that you are a gift given by them but in reality it is Eywa that has placed you on his lap.

You were created for him. Designed perfectly inside and out.

His reward for all that he has had to endure.

Now with you safely tucked in his arms and his People celebrating their freedom once more, he can rest. He is free to savor all that the Great Mother has offered him, although you prove to be difficult to rangle at times. That’s okay, he enjoys a good challenge. It makes your earned submission all that more satisfying.

He’s not sure how long one human can cry for but it appears you are shooting for a record. Your tears have soaked the feathers of his Olo’eyktan attire but he doesn’t mind, not when you are snuggling into him for comfort.

His plan of distraction worked wonders during take off but it was only a matter of time before your mind came back online and began worrying once more about the absence of people that never truly loved you. It’s to be expected however Neteyam is pleased to find that your response is not one of anger but sadness and seeking refuge. He couldn’t have asked for anything more ideal.

He is your refuge, your one true home and the fact that you are learning that so quickly makes a sense of pride burst within him.

The glittering gems of your new top compliment your own sparkling tears exquisitely. It had taken weeks for him to make but it was worth it. He would want nothing less for his pet on a night of such grand celebration. However, it becomes abundantly clear that he is not the only one who appreciates the outfit.

It’s the fifth time Lo’ak has turned in the direction of the throne while dancing to check on you. Or at least, that is how his younger brother would be sure to phrase it but Neteyam is no fool. He can see the hunger in those eyes. Typical of his younger sibling to chase after what he can not have. What Neteyam himself possesses.

Their eyes meet and it only takes a moment for Lo’ak to recover from being caught and roll his own back at his brother and turn to continue dancing. He’s not sure how much longer this game will go on where Lo’ak pretends to hold no interest. One way or another it will come out. Neteyam’s arm tightens around your waist, fingers running through your silky hair.

It is then that he notices your little sobs have stopped and are now replaced with long deep breaths. It’s amazing that you are able to sleep through the banging drums and echoing calls but it seems that all of your crying has worn out your poor little body. Such a fragile thing you are.

All the more reason to keep you close. And yet another reason he finds his mind swirling back to the idea of keeping you on a leash. Ideally he would carry you to and fro but there are times where he needs to have his hands available. With your habit to wander off he can’t risk having you fall and break your little neck. A leash would be the perfect solution.

Not to mention how good you would look trailing behind him, sweet little bow around your throat as a permanent reminder of his claim on you.

His tewng [loincloth] is unbearably tight. It presses against your soft thighs but that’s not enough. For perhaps the hundredth time you shift in his lap, unable to sit comfortably on your red ass. You’ve given up on trying to convince him to let you stand but that doesn’t stop that supple little pout from gracing your lips every time you are reminded of the pain. Even in your sleep you try to wiggle and squirm from his lap.

Of course there is another source of your constant squirming. A source that Neteyam finds his fingers dipping down to trace over as the base just barely peeks out of your tight pussy.

This plug is much larger than the cute one you had stowed away in your old nightstand drawer. It had taken more than a fair amount of encouragement to slot that thick piece of plastic inside your cunt but the sight was magnificent. Complain all you want but the way your walls clench around it in desperation tells Neteyam more than he needs to know.

It’s the largest size of his collection which means that tonight is the night. Tonight you will officially become his. Your pussy will soon forever have the imprint of his thick length inside of you, ruining you for any other man. Not that you would ever have the chance to be with another male outside of him again. Jared was the end of that line and the Olo’eyktan feels no hint of remorse for taking care of that pest.

Another flash of Lo’ak’s gaze.

Neteyam feels you stir when he lets out a deep sigh. However reluctant he is, it’s important to set his brother straight. Lo’ak has an overactive imagination after all and the last thing he would want is his little brother’s curiosity and desire becoming an interruption for the wondrous night the two of you are about to have.

Those long lashes flutter open, throat caught on a sharp intake when he stands up and places you back onto the seat. Your dazed and confused look is one that Neteyam can’t help but coo at, the pad of his thumb running over your cheek.

“Mawey, tiyawn [be calm, love]. I will be right back.” You’re already scrambling to your knees, finally keeping the weight off of your sore bum. “Be a good girl for me and stay put, yes?”

It’s a rhetorical question and one that he doesn’t give you a chance to answer before a kiss is placed on your hairline and the Olo’eyktan is parting the crowd. It’s obvious that there is a moment where you consider stopping him. You may be hell bent on never admitting it verbally but the other Na’vi put you on edge and being around him has become your one constant, a safety you can rely on. If not for his urgency Neteyam would take his time in teasing you on the matter.

Your face always looks even more lovely with that deep shade of red, whether from anger or embarrassment or even both.

Later, he reminds himself.

The female rubbing up against Lo’ak looks more than put out by his lagged reciprocation. Her displeasure colors into slight shock when she spots her Olo’eyktan coming straight towards them. Lo’ak crosses his arms as his partner quickly signs the proper respect to their leader. Neteyam dismisses her easily.

“Excuse me, sister. I require a moment with my brother.” Neteyam ushers Lo’ak away from the scene before giving her a chance to respond or offer to give them privacy.

The fire’s light now just barely humming over their skin. The two brothers find a moment of solace on the outskirts of the celebration. Neteyam’s ears still buzz from the sensory overload it has taken for the past few hours.

“If you’re going to ask me for another favor can it at least wait until tomorrow? There is a party, you know.” Lo’ak tall frame lazily leans against the nearest tree and he attempts to hide the way his eyes fly over Neteyam’s shoulder towards you by making a show of tying his hair back.

“Funny considering how eager you were to grant me a favor earlier this morning.” Neteyam’s veiny arms cross over his chest, tail whipping back and forth in the cool wind. If Lo’ak is intimidated he doesn’t show it.

“Aren’t I a wonderful brother?” Those sharp teeth shimmer as he makes a show of giving an over the top sarcastic grin.

“Lo’ak.” Neteyam growls.

“Jesus, calm down.” Lo’ak groans, head thrown back against the bark. “She’s still your little toy.”

“I am not stupid, baby brother. I see the way you look at her.”

“Whatever.” Lo’ak bristles and makes his way to stomp off but he is caught by the upper bicep.

“I don’t want there to be any…confusion.” Silence spreads between them, the only sound being that of Lo’ak’s harsh exhale.

“I was only watching.” He finally says, voice dropping lower.

“And you are free to.” Small steps bring him further into his brother’s space. “But let’s be clear about whose permission you need in order to touch.”

“And I didn’t.” His arm is ripped from Neteyam’s grasp. “I’ve only ever babysat the little brat and done all that you’ve asked of me. If you are looking for problems to address I would start with her running off at every given opportunity. Take a look for yourself!” He flails an exasperated arm in your direction but Neteyam doesn’t even bother to turn.

“I am aware.” There is no need to look in order to know that you have once again tried your hand at another escape. He can see it in his mind’s eye now, your small body carefully hoisting itself down from the high throne. Panicked eyes racing over the crowd in search of any Na’vi that could potentially halt your actions. All that before short legs race off into the darkness. “I’m giving her a head start.”

It’s best not to let you go too far. Eywa knows you are very skilled at finding new ways to put yourself in danger, but a little chase is an exhilarating experience.

“Oh yeah, you going to make me chase after her for you too?” Lo’ak spits out, urging Neteyam to roll his eyes at his brother’s antics. He resists however, that wouldn’t be very becoming of the Olo’eyktan.

“I fear you would enjoy that far too much, brother.”

Instead of fiery words shot back the only line of defense Lo’ak puts up is a scoff and frowned expression, golden eyes simmering with words that he knows better than to voice. Neteyam can give his brother credit for that at least. He knows when he is stomping on dangerous territory. You, on the other hand, seem to be learning that lesson far too slow. It seems a cute tawtute like you are more of a hands on learner.

“Can I be excused then, oh might Olo’eyktan?” He flourishes with a sarcastic bow.

“Leave.” Neteyam bites out simply, forcing his eyes to remain trained on his younger brother as he joins the crowd again. It’s a safety precaution just in case Lo’ak gets a bad idea even after warnings. Much to the Na’vi girl’s dismay Lo’ak does not join her again on the dance floor and instead heads straight towards the fermented fruit. No doubt he will spoil himself into a drunken state. Unfortunately for him, Neteyam already has his hands full babysitting you tonight.

He takes his time, however, greeting a few of the clan members and partaking in a small dose of alcohol himself. With your small legs it will take you forever to get a distance that makes this chase even remotely fun. However, once the drink is empty and he has done his dues as Olo’eyktan in the social event Neteyam can no longer keep himself at bay. There are other creatures of the night that could be waiting to catch a pretty prey like you.

Tracking you down is almost laughably easy with your sweet scent wafting through the air. A scent that only grows tenfold when he comes across a peculiar piece of plastic stashed in a bush. It’s the dildo that is meant to still be snuggled up in your little cunt.

A sharp smirk cuts into his features.

For such a smart little thing you really can be so negligent at times. With the dildo out your scent now goes from a dulled perfume to a thick fragrance that coats the air. He recognizes that aroma, he knows the way it tastes. Your arousal has only made you an easier target and now you have done nothing but take out the one piece keeping it plugged. Neteyam can envision so clearly that trail of slick that is sure to be marking your thighs.

Such a messy little thing you are. Even after the way he cleaned you up so dutifully post launch, you have managed to turn into a wet temptation once more.

The small footprints along the dirt are almost pointless in his pursuit now that he has your scent. They only serve as a confirmation that he is going the right way. It doesn’t take long before the sound of your sharp panting reaches his upturned ears. It’s then that the Olo’eyktan takes to the trees. He glides along the thick branches without a sound, gaining a bird’s eye view of your desperate running.

The full on sprint you started off with has come down to a clumsy jog. Even with your small stride he’s sure you could make it a lot further if you would simply stop looking over your shoulder every other second. An action that has you stumbling and grabbing your foot to pick out a thorn from the underside. Little curses rise between your harsh breaths.

And then your breathing is cut all together.

The sounds of claws and wild yips echo through the greenery. By the sounds of it Neteyam knows it must be a small pack of aynantang [viperwolves]. They aren’t close, at least not yet. With your back turned and eyes blown out in silent terror he decides that now is as good a time as ever to interrupt.

Neteyam lowers himself down slowly, muscular arms controlling his descent into a movement so smooth and silent that it is nothing more than a shadow. A shaky hand covers your lips, the little puff of your beating heart pushing your chest out even more. One long step forward and now he can watch your trembling from above, his toes almost touching your muddy heels.

“Their bite is not as sharp as mine, pet.”

You scream before the sound can be stopped, spinning so fast your heel that you land directly on your red bum instead. Even without glowing tanhi dotting your skin, those dilated eyes have a way of making you glow in the night. Even more so when they dazzle up at him with unleashed fear and vulnerability.

You scramble backwards, clawing at the muddy ground until you are clumsily trying to crawl back onto your feet. Fine by him, it’s easier to close the height difference when you are back to standing. He grabs your right arms easily, pulling you back against him. The fight continues as you turn to bash your first against his abdomen, even clawing at his thighs but then another sound cuts you off again.

They are closer this time.

“They hunt in packs.” Neteyam informs you. “Circle their prey until there is nowhere left to go.”

A rustle of bushes to the left has your squirming changing from running away to ducking behind Neteyam. He allows the action, sharp teeth peeking from his grin when he feels the way your soft fingers dig into his thighs.

“My father was almost killed by a pack once. Even in his avatar form he depended on my mother’s mercy to fight the creatures off.” You shake like a leaf in the wind, your face pressed against his lower back when the sounds get louder. He almost feels bad for scaring you so much, tempted to bundle you in his arms and shush your worries away. However, that would ruin the lesson. You are the one that decided to run off carelessly into the woods without him and now you need to understand why you depend on Neteyam for everything. Why you owe him your submission and affection.

“I wonder how you would fair.” A few more wolves prowl from the bushes, inching closer. They creep forward with a hesitance at the sight of Neteyam, driven only by curiosity as your scent continues to fill the air.

“Teyam.” You whimper into his hip, now latching onto the strap of his loincloth to urge him backwards.

“What’s wrong, pet? I thought you wanted to be set free?”

A vicious snarl rip from the right and you stumble to cling to his left side now. That startled little scream is just barely muffled by the way your face is pressed into his hip.

He coos at your little pleas. “Has someone changed their mind, hm?” Any other time you would be barring your blunt teeth at him but he knows that in the height of your fear there is no resistance left for him. You’re too focused on the prowling beasts that flash their own teeth in eclipse’s glow.

“Teyam please, let’s go!” Voice caught on sobs that threaten to rise, you can barely make the words out.

Your fear is palpable, but not just to him.The aynantang [viperwolves] can sense it too. They circle and watch with more confidence as the seconds roll by. Periodically they flicker up to his looming form, as if checking to see whether or not he will be a threat against their newfound meal. It would be easy to scare them off, something Neteyam has done himself many times. He’s hunted these forests since he was a boy and his own scent is something that the creatures have learned to associate with danger.

Standing here now, however, he keeps a neutral position and one that the pack hesitantly takes as an opportunity to cinch closer. A flash of his knife and that confidence would disintegrate until the pack would scurry off into another corner of the forest.

Neteyam keeps it sheathed.

“You’re the one that ran off, little gift.” He reminds you, voice calm and cool.

“I know! I know! I’m sorry j-just please!”

“Please what, tiyawn? You have to be more specific.”

You struggle to respond properly, hands frantically switching from tugs at the straps to clawing up at his arms. Regardless, Neteyam remains unmoved, arms crossed over his chest as he observes the scene with indifference. “Please..please don’t let them-” You gasp rearing back when you spot another viperwolf emerging from the left. It’s been there for a while but it appears this is the first time your weak eyes have caught sight of it. “I’m sorry! I’ve changed my mind! Please, I’m sorry.” You cry out in a shrill voice, plastering yourself under his arm.

“Changed your mind on what?” It’s tempting to look down and see the way you so desperately seek his comfort but Neteyam is wise enough to keep his golden gaze sharply pinned on the emerging creatures.

“On wanting to leave! You can take me home just please-”

“Oh can I?” Your chin is snatched between two fingers, forcing you to crane your neck up towards him. That mask of indifference is gone, replaced only by a fierce stirness you are terrified to be facing twice in one day. “And what makes you think that is up to you?”

It’s hard to look into your eyes directly when they are bouncing wildly in every which direction. Perhaps it is your pitiful way of tracking the oncoming predators, or maybe you simply can not handle facing his gaze filled with ire. Either way, it is adorable to watch your natural submissive nature emerge. And all from a few viperwolves.

Poor thing, what would you do without him?

“I-I’m sorry.” You say, voice so small and timid that only a Na’vi would have hopes of hearing it. Neteyam’s chest rumbles with a deep purr, other hand finally coming up to run through your hair.

“I know you are, tiyawn. You just get confused sometimes, don’t you?” No response is given, instead just a gasp as another creature inches closer and you dash into his arms. This time he wraps one arm around your small frame while the other goes for his sheathed knife. The advance pauses, aynantang [viperwolves] pacing from side to side instead. Your reaction is premature but Neteyam basks in it all the same.

From the heated breath and salty tears painting his lower stomach he begins to worry that your fragile body will soon give out and lose consciousness. Keeping you tucked under his arm is the best move, easily accessible for when he needs to scoop you up without retaliation. However at this point, it seems that you are willing to do whatever it takes to earn his protection.

What a short memory you truly have. Perhaps if you listened to him more diligently like a good pet should then you would already know that his protection has been yours since the first time he saw you. He would defend you to his very last breath. Whether or not you asked for it would be irrelevant. That being said, you’ve always had the sweetest way of begging so who is he to deny himself such a pretty chorus of promises.

They flow now freely from your lips. Pleading, crying, and begging for him to get you out of harm's way. He simply shushes you, making no rush as a rigid arm tightens to pull you even closer.

The creatures are scared off within the first few hisses that leave his lips. Knife dancing under the moonlight with a deadly promise, they yip away reluctantly. Still, there is an advantage to not letting you know how easy it truly is to scare them off so he tells you to look away, to keep snuggled against him where they can not so easily see your fear.

You remain that way when you are lifted into his arms. Your thighs strain to wrap around his ribcage but you eventually manage to lock your ankles together. With your shaky limbs locked in terror you are barely in need of his supporting arm, but he wraps one under your rear anyways. You remind him of a small syaksyuk [Prolemuris] as you cling with fervor, lighting his amusement to new heights.

The walk back is pleasant, even when your shaking doesn’t stop and your racing heart beat is louder than the stomp of his feet. There is still great peace to be found with you in his arms and the promise of a wonderful night in the air. After tonight you won’t dare to leave him, not now that you have developed a healthy sense of fear and even more so once your body has taken him fully the way it was meant to.

He holds back a groan at the thought. Your smell is still just as potent as when you first ran and now it holds an extra tang of emotion that makes it all that much sweeter. He manages to pick up the tossed aside dildo on the way back, but that acts as fuel to the flames.

He has sought after your true mating for months and now that he is on the cusp of finally making it a reality it is hard to keep a rational mind. The natural urge to pin you down and take what has always been his morphs into a feral urgency that infringes on his thoughts. Although, he is determined to take his time tonight because it is isn’t enough to simply fuck you into the ground or find pleasure in that first stretch. No, tonight is about claiming you in every way possible.

About teaching not only your body but your mind that there is no one else it belongs to. No one else that can provide for you in the way he can. Utter and complete submission is his goal. But to get you there, that will take skillful maneuvering and coercion. Otherwise it would not be a quest worthy of his time or attention.

However, there is still one more way he can lock you into his life. One permanent reminder that would forever keep you shackled to him. An action that would have your scent intertwined with his so much so that it wouldn’t matter if it took. Pregnant or not the message would be clear. The confines of his loincloth feel suffocating at the thought. Would your tiny pussy even be able to hold half of his seed? What a pretty treat it would be to see it spilling out from your perfectly pink and tight hole.

Pace now quickened, nothing can take away his laser focus. Not even Lo’ak’s obvious staring as you are carried swiftly along the outer edges of the celebration. Nor Spider who tries to run across the crowd and apologize again. Neither make it to him because all that he can feel is the warmth of your softy body. The pulse of your heart. The essence that is entirely yours, filling his lungs.

Once back in the safety of his kelku [home/house] you are smart enough to not flee from his lap. He manhandles one leg to be thrown to the other side so you are properly straddling him. A sense of shyness must fall over you because you are silent while nervously fiddling with the feathers of his traditional attire. Or maybe you are still too shaken up over the little viperwolf incident to do much else.

Neteyam is unbothered by it, instead using it as an opportunity to let his hands explore. Not in a sexual way at first, just simple brushes that are sure to have you melting for him.

“Now you understand why you must stay by my side. Don’t you pet?” Voice as gentle as the hands that run up the back of your neck, he can feel goosebumps rise in its wake. Eyes still fixated on the feathers, you nod shakily. If it wasn’t so cute he would be tempted to reprimand you for such a half hearted response but it appears luck is in your favor.

His knuckles paint a trail up the back of your neck before swiping over your left shoulder. His other hand softly gathers your hair to the other side so your skin is bared for him. He thumbs at the side of your throat, feeling your pulse flicker beneath his fingers.

“Such a pretty thing like you is not safe out there.” His hands bracket either side of your face, large enough to span the entirety of your head and tilt it upwards. It gives him the perfect view of your expression when both hands smooth up towards your hairline before parting and dragging along your scalp. Lips parted and eyes fluttered closed, he knows he has pressed the right button.

“Creatures eager to snatch you up.” Neteyam draws out, nails ever so gently scratching along your roots. The shiver that races through your body is powerful enough to be visual. Massaging at the area in long strokes proves to have you breaking into pieces. Body practically limp against him, the Olo’eyktan watches with glee.

No wonder Sky People are too soft for this world, all it takes to disarm you is some well placed pets.

“And they’d be successful too,” The tips of his fingers come together to circle your hair into a ponytail. A small sound exhales from your lips, leaning into his touch without resolve. “Have you between their teeth before you could even scream.” That dark tone washes over you in a way so contrary to the warning message, his lips mere centimeters away from your own.

One little kiss, more of a peck really. That is all you get. Just enough to have you chasing after him, a motion that is hard to do when he has you anchored by the root of your hair.

“And that,” Another soft peck to your cheek, “is why you are so lucky to have me.” Neteyam allows his lips to linger longer this time but it’s still just as soft, almost more of a whisper than anything else and with the way you are trapped, there is nothing for you to do but take it. The noise that catches in your throat proves it is far from the passionate affection you desire.

“Isn’t that right?”

“Yes Teyam.” You puff, the softest whisper as you try to learn forward for more. He tutts in disapproval, a slow but firm yank to your hair following. “Y-yes Olo’eyktan.” You correct yourself with a squeak and much to his delight, the fragrance from between your thighs intensifies. He’s tempted to look now and see if it has left a spot on his loincloth.

“There’s my good girl.” He grins and finally you are rewarded with his lips capturing yours. Although slow and tender in movement the heat of the kiss is all consuming, spreading a message that can only reflect his complete control over you. Several times you try to squirm or wiggle but the hand embedded in your hair shackles you into place.

Unlike most times you become a fidgeting little thing, it’s clear that your efforts are to get closer, not further away. Neteyam is a nice man after all and so he indulges that desire. At least to a degree. He kisses you until you’re gasping for breath. He kisses you until slick is seeping through your mini loincloth. And he kisses you until those soft little lips are ruby red and chapped from the harsh treatment.

It doesn’t matter to you, that much is clear by the way you whimper once he pulls away.

“Don’t be greedy.” He smirks against your cheek.

Your greed only intensifies when he slips one hand down to untie your loincloth. His other hand remains embedded in your hair as a leash, one that proves necessary as you are eager to rut up against him. Perhaps he would feel guilty for the way you blush in shame after another tug to your hair. That is, if your reactions weren’t so delightfully endearing.

For reasons mysterious to him, humans have a habit of going against their natural needs. You are not exempt from this issue as you are constantly trying to deny your desire for him, even deny yourself the pleasure you so clearly require. It’s fortunate that you have him to override those silly concerns. And override them he does, quite easily since your body reacts like a live wire every time he is near. The smallest of touches have you aching for more.

Eywa has blessed him with such a responsive little pet and he has every intention of exploiting that sensitivity until you are screeching for him to stop.

Small hands come to dig into his feathered mantle as he idly explores the curves of your stomach. He traces up until reaching the sparkling gems of your top. With two little flicks your hardened nipples are bared for him.

It’s a rare experience to have you so cooperative as he bites and sucks at those little peaks. The emotions of that day have softened your resolve, a pattern that Neteyam makes a mental note of.

He tunes into every sensation of satin skin beneath his fingertips. Atop his thighs. Prickling beneath his lips. Like a flower you blossom for him so exquisitely. Revealing petals that are just for him. Melodic whimpers that only he has the pleasure of inducing. The irritation of Lo’ak’s infatuation fades to the background with you so pliant in his arms.

You are quickly driven to madness, or at least is how you plead when he continues to trace, worship and tease your small body. Neteyam is anxious too. His hard member presses painfully against the fabric of his tewng. However, being the first born son has taught him something that you very rarely exhibit: patience. The fruits of your labors are tenfold more exhilarating once following a period of yearning.

And you yearn for him, little gift. So much so that your dramatic begging has him holding back a deep chuckle.

A river of nectar flowing down your thighs, you act as if you will pitter into dust if not satisfied.

It will be fun training you. Making you learn to sit patiently like a good pet when that inferno of fire burns deep within you. He can devise a plethora of creative punishments for when you inevitably step out of line. Neteyam looks forward to the long process. He wouldn’t want to succeed too quickly and cut the fun short.

Luckily your spit fire attitude is sure to draw it out, keeping him entertained and challenged for a long time.

The reasoning is only further confirmed when he catches you sneaking a tiny hand between your legs. The grip in your hair finally releases only for him to sharply smack away your attempt.

“Did I say you could do that?”

You’re exasperated, pleading eyes staring up at him as a drawn out groan comes from your lips.

“Well are you planning to tease me all night or actually do something?”

You’re pinned onto your back in a heartbeat, this time his right hand curled around your throat instead of your hair. It may not be firm enough to cut off your airway but the oxygen in your lungs freezes all the same.

“Oeyӓ tiyawn I have greater plans for my pussy than using your pathetic little fingers.” He growls into your ear, watching as you are too frozen in shock to bother struggling. “Because by the end of tonight it will be filled with my seed.”

Your throat bobs with a thick gulp, stuttered words struggling to come forth but a tad more pressure against your pulse earns your silence. And to his fascination, your eyes roll back into your head. Fight it all you want, but it’s clear you have always thrived off of his domination. This power imbalance is one that you need. Satisfying that deeply locked away drive you have to be loved, pampered, controlled, and absolutely ruined.

Just in the way only he can deliver.

Squeeze any tighter and his fingers might just lose circulation. Regardless, the dildos have done their job effectively and now you are more than ready to take him. It was always going to be a tight fit, but at least there is little risk of real injury due to his preparations.

You appear less convinced on that matter when his unoccupied hand roughly tugs off his tewng. Wide eyes stare down to where his full length lays along your stomach. He has to admit that in a position like this the size difference does become ever more staggering but he has every faith in you.

“Neteyam please,” You whimper, shiny eyes staring up at him for mercy.

“Please what?” He hums. His fingers curl to massage that special spot inside while his thumb playfully runs over your clit. It has the desired effect, watching as your begging turns towards a different goal.

“Please let me cum! Need it! Neteyam please!”

Neteyam shushes you tenderly, relieving some of the pressure from you little button when he feels your cunt clench around him on the verge of an orgasm. You’ve never looked more beautiful than now, naked and spread across the little nest of blankets and pillows he arranged just for you. Long hair splayed out in every which direction and eyes already coated in a haze, it appears as if you have already been fucked dumb beneath him.

“Patience, little gift. You will cum on my cock soon enough.”

Your alarm flares up once more.

“No Neteyam I can’t! It’s too big, it’s impossible-”

A large thumb presses over your lips to silence you. At this rate you are going to work yourself into hysterics and that would unravel all of the hard work he has done to get you here. A few more intentional circles on your clit has those protests flying out the door. It’s clear you require his help to stay calm and compliant the way you are meant to. The Olo’eyktan doesn’t mind aiding.

Your chest rises and falls dramatically as you melt under the pleasure. And when his three fingers are replaced with the head of his cock lining up, you hardly even notice. As long as that little bundle of nerves is being stimulated, you are hyper focused on seeing out that ecstasy to a finish.

A soft kiss dampens your screech when he slots in just the tip. Already his mind swirls from the sensation but Neteyam manages to reign in his focus. Little ‘no’ s and pleas fall from your lips to caress his.

“Mawey, oeyӓ tiyawn [be calm, my love]. You are being so good for me.” Another inch and it feels as if his own knees are about to crumble from how tightly you cinch around him. Small hands fists into the fabric below as your eyes squeeze shut. Neteyam shakily grasps one with his right hand, placing it along his shoulder that is now exposed with the feathered attire out of the way. “You can touch, little pet. Good girls deserve rewards.”

With your face just barely reaching chest level the Olo’eyktan is forced to bend into an awkward position every time he goes to kiss away your tears, but it’s worth it. Those blunt little nails dig into his lower back. It’s a shame they aren’t strong enough to leave marks that he can cherish.

The air from his lungs are pushed out in a rush as he plunges ever so slightly deeper inside your sweet little pussy. You tense and cry beneath him, scratching as his back in haste. Although mere seconds away from popping his load far too early he still manages to reach down and play with your poor little cunt until more of that sweet essence is trailing out.

“You need to relax for me, pet.” Neteyam grits, tail curling erratically. “Going to suffocate my cock like this, little one.” And it’s true because in all of his years of sexual maturity not once has he ever felt a pussy so tight, so responsive, wrapped around him. It drives him to the point of insanity. It takes every last bit of resolve he has left to not shove the rest of himself inside and plow you into the floor.

But Neteyam knows better than to break his toys.

The next few minutes test his mental and physical stamina over and over as you slowly take him inch by inch. Every slow push of his hips causes a domino effect of tears and incoherent cries from your sweet lips. He kisses and soothes and pleasures your trembling body until you’ve learned to relax again. Only to then restart the cycle when you take one inch more.

However, nothing prepares him for the end result. No amount of dreaming or training could ever have done the sight justice as he sees the way your soft belly bulges when he reaches the hilt. The shape of him is clearly visible, twitching so deep inside of you that it threatens to drive both of you into sensation overload.

The groan that rumbles from his throat is one that you have never heard before. So rough and unleashed that your glittering eyes dilate in response. It’s still painful, that much he can see from the look on your face. So despite every instinct in him screaming to ruin your little pussy until it can take no more, Neteyam remains in place.

Your swollen nub is red from his sensual play, nipples not far behind as he laps and kisses them like they are the last meal he will ever have. That beautiful blush now heats down your neck and torso, as if tempting him to continual his oral fixation. It accentuates most importantly that bulge of your stomach until he can’t help himself anymore, large hand spanning over your tummy to press on that area lightly.

“Can you feel me, tiyawn? Right here?” He presses again, your mouth opening in a silent scream. “Taking me so deep, pet. My good girl.”

And it’s then that it feels as if something has clicked. Your bodies becomes attuned to one another. Burning stretch morphs into something otherworldly, those soft features finally unscrewing into fluttering bliss. And he draws out ever so slightly to rut back in, your head falls back against the pillows.

He’s waited long enough. Pinned long enough. Crawled after you long enough. Now all that his body can do is take what you so freely give him. His hips snap forward without restrain, spurred on by the little sounds that pulse in the back of your throat. Little fingers scatter between gripping his muscular back and tangling into his braids.

The heat that travels from his ears to toes is so intense that it feels as if he may burst into an inferno. And he truly might, little gift. With the way you hug his cock so snuggly as if you never want to let it go, you may simply kill him. He would be happy to go that way. To leave this world drowning in the bliss of your destined union.

And for once in his life, Neteyam lets himself fully go. He chases that peak with fervent desperation. He drinks in every reaction you have to give him. And when the pleasure becomes all too much for you to take. When you grapple to crawl away from him and the mind shattering climax that is around the corner, he pulls you back down with a hiss.

“No more running, pet.” He commands, a growl emanating so deeply from his chest that he almost doesn’t recognize his own voice. He hoists your left leg around his waist, effectively changing the angle to thrust in deeper.

“Neteyam!” A screech like sweet honey from your lips as you finally tip over the edge. Body trembling so hard it takes that firm grip on your leg to keep it there, you crumble beneath him. His stamina is far from being drained as he rides you through it. Every wave of pleasure is stronger than a drug, leading him to cloud nine until he no longer wants to be anywhere else.

“T-too much.” You gasp for air but your body is already succumbing to the onslaught. He can feel the way you are ramping up again. This is far from being over.

“Give in.” Neteyam coos but the ring of that command is clear. There is no other option. That is the way it has always been because from the very beginning you have always been his. And sooner or later Eywa knew that the two of you would be here together, trapped in his love where you belong.

“Oh God!” You cry out, body sliding up the floor with every thrust.

Whether you find his queue by accident or on purpose is unclear but that first tug is enough to have his balls drawing up against his body, bracing to fly into bliss. There is a sticky mess between the two of you, slick enough to have those wet sounds filling the night air. Neteyam runs the flat of his nose over your sweaty temple and curve of your cheek.

“My little gift.” He purrs, body on the brink of rupturing. He says it more for himself than you but is more than pleased to watch the way your eyes flutter close as the sound. Trembling, squeezing, and shattering around him, those are the moments your reserve of denial dries up.

That’s how it has always been. From the first night that he brought you home, tucked under his arm, you’ve had this other side that can be taunted out. Even that night as you had pleaded to be released only to have the gag put back in, his tongue had driven you to stillness. Your screaming of kidnapping had sizzled into a series of moans and ecstatic exclamations.

There’s another side to him too.

The part of him that can finally bask in the one thing he has wanted for months. The part of him that yearns for reprieve day in and day out. The part that demands for rest- for freedom.

Now he can finally surrender himself to the magic that the two of you create. To the sparkle that runs down your cheeks. To the sensation of being embraced so tightly by your little pussy. To the way his name has never sounded better from anyone else’s lips. Eywa has finally given him this gift, his sanctuary from every other pressure bestowed upon him.

And now nothing is going to take it away from him.

Nothing will ever take you away.

Those are the thoughts that coerce his primal nature forward. The same that ramp the fire of his tongue demanding more from you. Pushing you further, harder, deeper.

“You won’t let any spill out, will you pet?” He spits between grunts.

“I-I’ll be good. I’ll be good. I’ll be good.” More of a chant on loop than anything else. One day you will beg properly. You will cry for his seed, for his babies. You won’t question whether or not pregnancy is possible as he fills your womb with his mark.

You will wear that little bow on your neck with pride.

Neteyam forces his eyes open at the precipice. Even as his body convulses and cock pulses rampantly while painting your insides white, he won’t allow himself to miss a single moment. That imprint of your expression as he finally claims you past the point of return will stay with him. The drawn in gasp that is sucked in from your red lips when you feel that warmth will be what keeps him going on day after day. Major to minor details of tonight will be his soundtrack to perfection as he pushes himself to be the best Olo’eyktan possible.

And when the day has worn him to the bone and those day dreams are not enough, there you will be. Waiting for him oh so sweetly.

“I want to sleep.”

Your muffled whine coaxes a chuckle from the Olo’eyktan.

“Then sleep.” He responds, only looking up from your spread legs for a second. So peaceful and sweet you are now, almost drowned in the hammock’s blankets and pillows. The picture of innocence and beauty only to then trail his eyes lower and find the evidence of his primal claim. His bioluminescent seed paints your weeping folds and inner thighs. A new spurt erupts from your still clenching hole only for him to push it back inside with his thumb again.

It won’t make much of a difference. There is no way your small body could ever truly hold all of it but that doesn’t stop him from teasing you all the same.

“Looks like this little pussy will need training to savor my seed properly after all.”

Eyes still closed you let out a groan, trying to rip your thighs from his fingers. You remain trapped as exhaustion finally overcomes you, only a small incoherent curse from your tongue before passing out.

Neteyam grins, reaching up to straighten the little pink bow around your throat.

Please don't be shy. Hearing your thoughts and reactions is what helps fuel my drive to keep posting. Love you, pookies<3

Taglist: @neteyamssyulang @pandoraslxna @tallulah477 @sullybrothersmate @criticallybella @lilghostiequinni @chershire23 @lala-1516 @yawnetu @puddle-nerd @ratchetprime211 @avatargirly @chocolatechocobo91 @kariz-stark @bunnscoffe @avatarwifey @universal-s1ut @witchsprit @heart-an0n @riri-is-a-girlie @rivatar @minnory @ikeyniofthetayrangi @ilovehobi101 @spicymayyo @v4mp1rr3 @nilsavatar @bambithewriter @quicktosimp @itchaboi-itchyboy @thehoneymushroomhealer @ilytulipse @imwutim @crazy4books1 @thegirlwholoveslivesfanfiction @danniackerman @dayyzlol @justabite7 @krispyjellyfishkitty @neteyamtesuli @sakurayuki8655-blog @deadpool15 @valeriinee @leaveitbythewave @aqxllo @mxnygn @crazed-flower @crimsonroses666 @property-of-neteyam @rejectedbytheeempty @erenjaegerwifee

I know there are people I probably missed. It's getting harder and harder to keep track of this taglist so don't be offended if you aren't on there. Also, a good portion of these aren't linking properly so check to see if I have entered it in correctly and if so, you might want to look into your account.

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whirlybirbs · 5 months ago

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i am on my hands and knees begging for a shred of keigo takami baby bird kfc angel content from you, if you write hawks i will finally know true peace

— MEET & GREET ; 1 / 2 ; HAWKS ; 啓悟

summary: you manage to snag two VIP meet & greet tickets for your nephew's birthday. he insists you join him. part one of two. pairing: keigo takami ; hawks / f!reader word count: 3.1k tags: humor, meet-cute, pro hero culture, birbs ignores all relevant timelines yet again, fluff, phone-flirting, hawks is great with kids, t+, relatable pre-hook up hesitation, they will fuck next time a/n: hawks is the chappell roan of the mha universe. stop touching him. this man actually changed my brain chemistry in early 2023 but we don't need to talk about that. anways, this poll was on the ropes all day and i made the executive choice to feed the hawks birblets.

You feel like your face has been set in a semi-permanent cringe all morning.

In your right hand, you're clutching your half-finished iced coffee for dear life. In your other, you're clinging to your nephew as he drags you through the convention center — one of the bright red wings of his beloved, homemade cosplay has started to go lopsided, and the six-year-old excitedly tugs it back in place as he tries to yank you forward.

"C'mon! We're gonna be late!"

This really wasn't your scene.

Fan conventions had a way of making your skin itch. The amount of sexy All Mights you've seen this morning alone has to be some sort of milestone indicator for the environment. Whether nature is healing or dying, though, you have no idea.

If you had it your way, you'd spend the rest of the day mingling through the artist stalls — but, to your nephew Hayami's point, the two of you had somewhere to be.

Your VIP meet-and-greet badge swings as you trip up and laugh. "Okay! Okay, slow down! You're about to yank my arm off!"

It was the best birthday gift imaginable for Hayami. You officially cemented your title as The Coolest Aunt Ever when you managed to snag the two VIP convention meet-and-greet tickets (complete with a professional photo and two signed copies of the convention's annual poster) after a harrowing seven hours in an online Ticketmaster line. There were only a hundred of them sold — and sure, you coulda thrown that pretty hunk of cash into a college fund for Hayami, but he was deeply in his hero phase.

Originally you expected that Hayami's father, your brother-in-law, would want to go.

But, no, Hayami himself insisted you come with him.

After all, you helped me with my costume, he begged, I wouldn't have been able to do it without you!

That you did. Many a hot glue gun burn was suffered at the hands of those damn red feathers. If you squint from far away, the cosplay isn't half bad considering the thrift and dollar-store materials. It wasn't one of those inch-to-inch replicas, but it worked.

He's like a cute, bouncing mini Hawks. Complete with goggles and wings.

And Hayami is happy. And that's all that matters to you.

The line is already pretty long, and Hayami runs his gloved hands along the line barriers as he races to his spot, audibly wooshing the whole way — just like Hawks does, probably. His badge jingles, and he hops to a stop as you come up behind him and pat his head. The six-year-old stands up on his tippy-toes, trying to see around the Miss Midnight fan in front of them.

"Can you see him?" he chatters excitedly, "Ti, can you?"

He's called you Ti ever since he could speak. Auntie was too long, and the shortened version has stuck.

You hop up onto your tippy-toes, mimicking him — and you swear you catch a glimpse of a crimson feather plumage over the gathered heads of the other meet-and-greet fans. It might be another cosplayer.

"I dunno," you whisper, your eyes darting to your phone's lock screen, "It's supposed to start any minute—"

The telltale roar of fanfare lets you know exactly who has just arrived.

Hayami's excitement is palpable. Without a word, you're hauling him up and perching him on your shoulders. His hands land in your hair, and you can feel his smile from down here.

"Ti! It's him!"

The line starts moving not long after, and you finish your iced coffee while Hayami stays perched on your shoulders, utterly starstruck. You weave through the barriers, moving up a few feet every minute, until you're only four or five people away from where Hawks sits behind a long table.

You have to admit, the guy is pretty cute.

Cuter than the fan-cams make him out to be, even.

Sandy blonde hair, sharp gold eyes, and big wings. There's no doubt in your mind he's showboating, but as people approach the table, you notice this hesitant twitch ripple through the red feathers every time someone gets a little too close.

That cringe from earlier washes over your face again as a girl reaches over the table to roughly run her fingers across one of his flight feathers.

It's Keigo's least favorite part of all this.

I mean, there's a part of him that gets it. He's the #2 Hero in all of Japan. He's a big deal. He's top of the popularity polls, he's the people's bird, y'know? He's a marketed commodity that sells out each and every time.

But, that doesn't mean he likes being touched.

Especially the wings. Hands off the wings.

"Hey, Hayami?" you ask, tilting your head up as you both step forward.

You can feel the sudden nervousness creeping up on Hayami as he nods and looks down at you. "Y-Yea?"

"Make sure you ask for permission if you touch his wings, okay?" you say gently, muscling him down from your shoulders and doing a once over on his mini-Hawks cosplay, "And remember to tell him your name!"

Hayami nods, his nerves palpable as he realizes the two of you are next.

On instinct, his hand shoots out and grips yours for dear life.

And then, one of the marketers waves the two of you forward.

The first word that comes to Keigo's mind is MILF. You're cute. Real cute. Definitely not the usual sort he meets at conventions, and definitely not the usual sort that buys a ticket to his meet-and-greets. The kid clinging to your arm is arguably even cuter, and Hawks can't hide the blooming grin on his face when the pair of you step forward.

"Woa-ho!" he yaps from behind the patterned table, "Dude! Nice outfit!"

Hayami is panicking. You can tell from his shocked silence as the two of you step forward. You bend at the knees, squatting to your nephew's height, then encourage him to go ahead, go on. His big, brown eyes bob from you to Hawks.

"Go ahead, Hayami," you encourage softly, "Say hi."

Oh, shit. You're really cute. Is this your kid? Nah, no way. You're way too young to be his mom. Unless—

You've seriously got him weighing the pros and cons of step-fatherhood and he doesn't even know your name.

He could do stepdad shit at twenty-six. Right?

"Hi, Mr. Hawks," comes the shy voice of the mini Hawks before him; the sandy blonde's chest clenches.

This is too fuckin' cute.

"Heh, hey kid," he chirps back, leaning forward on the table as his mouth curves into a friendly grin; Hawks' eyes are trained on the kid's growing smile, "What's your name?"

"H-Hayami."

"It's cool t' meetcha, Hayami," Hawks parrots as your own proud smile grows. There's relief flooding your shoulders. Thank god, Hayami didn't choke the clutch moment, "I like your wings, lil' dude!"

Hayami gives a little turn, wiggling his prized, handmade possession. His confidence is building; the compliment lights the kid's cheeks up.

"My aunt helped me make them!" Hayami chatters, his eyes brightening from behind the flight goggles strapped to his head, "She says I need to ask for your permission to touch your feathers!"

Keigo's gold eyes slip to your face. You give him an apologetic grimace, your eyes flicking to the girl beyond the VIP area still screaming about how she touched him, she touched Hawks, oh my god. You mouth out a silent apology.

Hawks' finds himself a little speechless. Doesn't happen often.

He's not used to having some say in how he's objectified and consumed.

A sandy brow quirks as he pushes his yellow-tinted visor up, and into his hair. He seems shocked. It's not an expression you've seen on the #2 before — and in the last few weeks, you've seen plenty of Hawks content during Hayami's cosplaying journey. The reference material is pretty expansive.

"That's real considerate, chickadee — I appreciate that," his voice is soft; his smile is a little looser, "C'mere, Hayami, you wanna hold a feather while I sign your poster?"

This is, like, the best day of Hayami's life.

Hawks brings his visor back down.

You stand to full height, wringing your purse's strap, watching Hayami hold both hands out as one of the delicate pieces of plumage floats into his hands on command. He cradles it like treasure, his big brown eyes glimmering with new-found amazement.

You step forward, and place a hand on Hayami's shoulder as he gently ushers his hands toward your face. "Ti, look, isn't this, like, the coolest thing ever — it's one of Hawks' feathers!"

Hawks' eyes flick up to the two of you as his pen darts across the two VIP package posters. There's a smirk on his face as he pays half attention to the task of signing.

And scribbling his number on the back of one.

"I see that," you chuckle, leaning in to inspect the beautiful, crimson feather, "Make sure you say th—"

Before you finish your sentence, the very feather in question darts up to tickle the tip of your nose. Your immediate reaction is to scrunch your nose and grin. It's not so much ticklish as it is gentle. For good measure, Hawks gives Hayami a little brush on the cheek, too. The boy descends into delighted laughter, allowing the feather to zip back through the air and into its designated place in his wings.

Hawks is smirking.

"Alright you two," comes the level voice of the marketer; the camera in her hands is bulky, and a signifier that their time meeting #2 is nearly up, "Let's get in nice and close for a photo!"

The table proves to be a bit of a pain, but you bend down to Hayami's height as Hawks leans over the table and gives you both bunny ears. The camera flash burns bright in your eyes as Hayami's hand darts into yours again.

"Here you two go," Hawks rumbles easily; he's standing now, and you find yourself yet again struck by how handsome he is. He smells like summer air and some expensive cologne you'll probably never know the name of. Definitely one of his sponsors.

You take both posters, as Hayami's excitement seems to overflow and he's nearly buzzing with excitement to know he has Hawks' autograph. The boy bounces at your heels as he clutches his signed copy of the annual convention poster. His big, brown eyes are wide with pure joy.

"Thank you!" Hayami chatters, "You're the best, Hawks!"

"Thank you," you smile, taking your own poster as Hayami's hand rockets back into yours.

"Nah, it's nothin', chickadee. Thanks for the manners," he calls after you with a touch of good humor, "You're real sweet."

"No problem!" you stutter out, thrown entirely by the compliment, as one of the other marketers guides you towards the exit with a hand on your back.

"Oh, hey! One last thing!"

You flick your eyes back over your shoulder as you're shuffled out of the meet-and-greet.

You watch Hawks mouth 'check the poster', and with a hand held up to the side of his face. Then, 'call me'.

"You're kidding me."

Hayami is finally asleep — and your sister is closing the door to his darkened bedroom as she hisses the words out. You're leaning against the hallway wall, arms crossed and looking entirely exasperated.

"I can't just call him," you say softly as you kick off the wall and follow her into the kitchen, "This isn't, like, the hot waiter who leaves his number on the receipt—"

"No, it's even better," she chatters, moving towards the unfinished glass of wine that sits on the dinner table, "I swear to god if you don't pick up that phone and call him right now—"

It's your brother-in-law who speaks up from the couch. "What's stopping you?"

"I don't know, being chronically single?" you cry as you throw your hands, "I haven't gotten a wax in months—"

"You seriously think #2 cares?" comes your sister's flat reply.

Your brother-in-law mimics her affectation. He throws a finger in the air. "Real heroes don't care."

The two of them high-five.

...They're probably right.

You suck your teeth as you cross your arms again and weigh your options.

I mean — it's only eight o'clock. It's early. And it's a Friday.

It could go two ways — you break your year-long dry spell with the #2 pro-hero in the country, or it's a total bust and he turns out to be a massive weirdo. Both are frankly pretty entertaining.

You chew your lip.

Then, you decide.

You kick off the wall and move towards your phone in the kitchen. It's sitting beside the poster.

"Oh my god, are you doing it?" your sister calls from the couch, her hand gripping her husband's arm tightly.

"I'm doing it," you say, ignoring the bite of nervousness in your hands as you type in the cell number that was scrawledhastily on the back of the poster.

"Ohmygod."

It's ringing.

Suddenly, you have an audience. Your sister and brother-in-law are crowding you, their faces wide and expectant as it continues to ring. You pull your thumb to your mouth, pushing your bottom lip between your teeth. You let it ring, and ring, and just when you settle that you're being sent to voicemail, there's a click and a voice.

"'Ello?"

Your sister slams her hand into her husband's back, the two of them scrambling in a sudden flash of limbs and excitement. You drag your thumb across your throat — gesturing for them to cut it out.

"Uh, hi," you fumble, "Is this... Hawks?"

Suddenly, there's a bark of laughter on the other line. "The one and only. Who's this?"

A slow smirk tugs at your cheeks. "I checked the back of the poster — a bold move, y'know."

"Convention Cutie!" he practically cheers, "Hold on, hold on — gimme two seconds, lemme just land."

Your lips part and you blink. The mental image is a hell of a thing. You swallow down a bought of amusement. "Sure, sure, take your time."

Keigo was starting to doubt you'd actually call him. The convention wrapped up hours ago, and he already made himself busy by exploring the southern city. It's nice here. A little bit like his hometown. Not too much crime, which has made for a pretty uneventful evening.

Until now.

His boots touch down on the nearby rooftop and he settles into an easy squat. His wings tuck themselves tightly against his back.

You can hear a bit of wind bristle against his end of the receiver.

"Alright, alright, sorry," he rumbles out, "Now you've got my full, undivided attention—"

You tug on your bottom lip. Your sister and brother-in-law are entirely hooked on the little bits they're overhearing from their spot across the counter. Your sister takes a long drink of her wine.

"Am I... being a bit of a distraction?" you ask, "If now isn't a good time—"

"You've been a distraction all day," comes the smooooooth reply; even Keigo's proud of himself for that one, "I'm just out for a fly. Nothin' too serious. I am glad you called, though."

Oh, fuck. Your knees feel like jello. You white-knuckle grip the counter as your sister gnashes her teeth and mimics biting her fist in silent mimery.

"Yea?" you pry, fanning yourself as you lean farther against the counter.

"Yea, definitely," Hawks grins as he tips his head back and checks out the stars, "You busy tomorrow night? I'd love to take you out to dinner."

There's a commotion across the kitchen. The two of them are smacking one another's arms, their genuine excitement is palpable as they try to stay quiet. They're failing.

"I'd love that, Hawks."

This is new for him.

Technically speaking, you're not a fan. Your nephew is. So, this doesn't technically qualify as one of those unspoken hero faux pas. Don't date fans. Then again, what does it matter? He can do whatever he wants.

And you're cute. And nice. And kind. And maybe he's being a sap, but seeing you with your nephew made something in his heart tighten. He didn't even notice he was making a nest of scrapped trash from the posters around his seat until the afternoon was over.

God, sometimes the evolutionarily deep, bird DNA thing is weird.

Hawks lets out a tight breath he didn't realize he was holding.

"Cool. Okay. Uh, you... you chill with, like, 7pm?" he fiddles with his visor, "I'm... I'm free whenever so..."

He sounds nervous. Your grin is so bright it could outburn the sun.

"That works for me," you say as you fiddle with your lip, "As far as dress code goes... Do I, like, need a flight suit?"

His laugh is warm.

"No, no, I — I was gonna get us an Uber," his voice lilts into something more mischievous, "Unless..."

"Maybe after dinner," you remark easily, swaying side to side, "You can show me what those wings do?"

Oh, smooth. Real smooth. Keigo's face is warm. His wings in question twitch eagerly at the invitation.

"You gonna ask before you touch?" he teases back into the receiver, his brow raised.

It's your turn to laugh. "Hey, it's called being polite."

"I appreciate it," he rumbles out, about earlier at the convention, "Seriously. People are grabby — these things are sensitive..."

"Making a mental note of that, and filing it away," you flirt openly as your sister cheers silently, "For after dinner, maybe."

Keigo's brain stutter-steps. His laugh is surprised. He's about to comment on how you might just be the girl of his dreams when suddenly the wail of sirens perks up his attention. It's two blocks over. Three fire engines. The wind is carrying the smell of acrid smoke.

"Hey, chickadee, I, uh... I gotta go," he says, standing and allowing his attention to drift to the scene playing out in front of him; it's a house fire — must be — on the southern side of town, "I'll text you the spot for tomorrow, is that okay?"

"Of course, don't let me keep you," you hush, "I'll... text you?"

"I'm countin' on it."

"Bye, Hawks."

"See ya, chickadee."

You didn't even realize you were sweating until you put the phone down.

Your sister and her husband are there, eyes wide. "So?"

"So," you croon as you laugh and pridefully sway your hips, "I have plans tomorrow night."

Their screaming wakes up Hayami.

As you help the kid back to sleep, you keep it secret that he's a better wingman than you could have ever anticipated.

#i had a few banger one liners in this one folks #meet & greet #hawks x reader #hawks x you #hawks x y/n #hawks imagine #keigo takami x reader #keigo takami x you #keigo takami imagine #mha hawks #bnha #mha imagine #bnha imagine

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novvabee · 2 months ago

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could you do one where there’s a girl who is really good, like REALLY good at divination and stuff, and meets the mauraders

hi love! this is so cute, it is a tad bit different from your ask but, here it is ❤️ i hope it fits your vision

She's Divine

Summary: poly!marauders x divination loving reader cw: swearing like once, predetermined poly relationship word count: 1.8k

“Y/N!” you heard Sirius sing throughout the common room. You were cozied up in one of the corners with a book you’ve been dying to read on the works and uses of prophecies. You finally had a moment of time, and now it was being interrupted, great.

“Yes Sirius,” you sighed, closing your book and looking up at him from where he stood. He smiled down at you and you knew you were going to be pulled into whatever scheme he was planning.

He batted his eyes down at you, smiling sweetly as he asked “Would you do me a small, well, bigger than small favor?”

“What kind of favor?” you asked, narrowing your eyes in suspicion.

“Well, remember that assignment that was due last week? The one for divination?” he recalled.

“Yes?” you say, becoming annoyed.

“Well…” He trailed off.

“You didn’t do it?” you guessed, it would be just like Sirius to ask you to do his homework, even a week later.

He cocked his head and smiled. “How did you know? You must be psychic or something.”

You rolled your eyes in answer. Of course you didn’t want to help him with this. It was on a topic you learned last week, palmistry, and you had already moved on to dream interpretations.

“Oh come on,” he grovelled, “you know I’m shit at divination, and you’re the top of the class. Just think about it as if you’re tutoring me.”

You rolled your eyes yet again, your book will just have to wait until later. “Fine,” you said, “sit.”

He sat in the armchair next to yours, throwing off his bag full of textbooks. He looked at you intently, on his best behavior as not to piss you off and tell him to do the assignment himself.

“Ok,” you started, “give me your hand.”

He obeyed your command and gave you his right hand. You took it in both of yours, pulling him closer to get a better view. You twisted it around to get the perfect lighting and make sure you didn’t miss any marks.

“Ok well, these little marks are ‘witch marks’ indicating that magic runs through your bloodlines but… that’s obvious, almost everyone in this school has them. However, you have quite a lot of them, meaning you come from a long line of magic.”

He nodded along seeming interested in what you had to say.

“Then this one here,” you said pointing to a deep line slashing through the bottom of his hand, “this one is the lifeline, it is pretty average, meaning you will live to a normal age but, it’s split. This probably means that your life will change in a drastic way.” you explained.

Sirius was listening, but he wasn’t listening. He was just staring at you, smiling. His hands were warm, soft. You were beginning to feel his stare.

“Do you want me to keep going?” you asked, not knowing if he was really listening to what you were saying, not taking any of it in. He was definitely not going to do well on this project.

“Yes please!” He said, dreamily. “I could listen to you talk all day.”

You giggled, squeezing his hand in between yours. “Is this just another way of flirting or do you really need help with this assignment?” you asked with a grin.

“Why can’t it be both?” he replied.

You shook your head but continued on reading his palm. “This one is the heart line. It stops right before your middle finger, which means you have difficulty expressing your emotions to those you love. It feathers out quite a bit, I think this may mean you’ll have many lovers in your life.” you said jokingly. This was obvious to you of course, Sirius shared his love three ways already between you, James and Remus.

“Lucky me,” he muttered, smirking over at you and winking.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

“Hello sunshine.” you heard from beside you. Your attention snapped up to James making his way up to where you were sat under a shady oak tree in the gardens of the castle. It was a lovely day and you decided to take full advantage of the rare sunny weather. You were still on the book about the works and uses of prophecies, not finding the time to finish it.

“Hello James,” you said, smiling up at the tall, bespeckled figure. “What can I help you with?”

“Nothing at all!,” he answered. “Actually, I saw something in Hogsmeade and thought you would like it.”

“A present?” you asked, pretending to be shocked. In reality, it was very much like James to grab something for you while out in the town. He did it fairly often, always bringing you back candies or trinkets.

He chuckled and said “Close your eyes.”

You listened to him, shutting your eyes and holding out your hands for him to set the present in. You felt something hard and cold placed in your cupped hands. You didn’t peek until you heard him say you could look.

You opened your eyes to see a small amethyst tower laying on its side. You gasped and looked up at James. “Thank you!” you exclaimed. “I need to put one under my pillow! I’ve been sleeping awful lately.” you explained.

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that,” he said, sitting down next to you under the tree, wrapping his arm around your shoulders. He traced his fingers along your upper arm in a sweet and comforting way. “Bad dreams?”

“Sorta.” you answered, resting your head on his shoulder.

“Well, what are they about? Sometimes it’s good to talk about them and analyze them.” he explained.

You looked at him sideways “Yes James, I too take divination.” you answered him sarcastically.

“Exactly! You should know that better than anyone else!” he chuckled.

“Fine, fine,” you laughed. “They're mostly about interplanetary rivalries, you know, Venus and Jupiter. And all the placements growing closer to conjunction, causing all sorts of chaos and interesting events here on Earth. Do you know what I’m talking about?”

He blinked at you. “No idea. I know about half of the words you just said.”

You laughed and shoved him gently. “Well that was no help, Potter.”

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

You were finally settling down, opening your book to the chapter you had left off on. You didn’t make it two seconds before you felt a presence beside you. You thought you would be safe in the library, you thought wrong.

You turned to see Remus setting up some parchment and his quill. He smiled at you and continued. You thought that maybe he would be engrossed in his work and maybe leave you to your reading. You were wrong.

“Hey Y/N, you have a moment?” he leaned over and whispered.

You shut your book yet again, looking over to him to continue.

“You read runes right?” he asked, still quiet as not to disturb the studying students around you both.

You nodded. “Yeah, I got an Outstanding in my OWLS.”

His face lit up as he said, “Great, well, I was wondering if you would be willing to tudor some students in my study group. There’s a few kids taking rune reading for the first time and they said they needed some help, so I wanted to ask the expert.” You suspected he was laying on the compliments to make you say yes to tutoring some younger years.

You laughed off his flattery, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “Well, I am no expert, not yet at least,” you said, “But I can help any way I can.”

He sighed in relief. “Thank you so much, Y/N. I really will owe you.”

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

When you agreed to help tutor for Remus, you didn’t expect two of the pupils to be both James and Sirius. They sat there, textbooks open and puzzled looks smeared across their faces. You didn’t mind terribly, they were your boyfriends after all, perhaps they would thank you with more presents and sweets.

You figured Remus roped you into tutoring them because he did not have the patience for teaching both boys with the shortest attention span in probably the while school..

You helped them with a few assignments that they couldn’t quite grasp. Both boys struggled with rune reading, tarot card reading, and naval chart reading. You did your best to help walk them through it, but after about an hour, you could tell they were becoming frustrated with it all.

“But I’m a Scorpio,” Sirius said, “I was born in November.”

“I know that Sirius, but that is your sun sign.” you tried to explain. “There are many more signs. For example, your moon sign which is in Taurus.”

“Ugh, this is stupid!” Sirius said, frustrated and tired.

“Honestly, divination is pretty much useless nowadays, it’s not even reliable, there is no proof it’s real.” James chimed in.

You were taken back by their comments. “Just because you two don’t automatically excel in it, doesn’t mean that it is stupid or useless.” you said, hurt that they felt that way about something you were very passionate about, something you loved and were good at, something you wanted to make into a career. You knew that a lot of people didn’t take divination seriously, that it was considered somewhat of an old wives tale. But you didn’t think that the boys, the people you thought cared about you the most, would think your passions were so miniscule and not as important as their own.

“W-we didn’t mean it like that,” James said, starting to back peddle. “We just mean, we’re not good at it so…”

“So you think it’s stupid?” you ask.

“No!” James says, becoming pink in the face, not enjoying the outcome of this conversation at all.

“Don't listen to them,” you heard Remus say, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you into his side, seeing that you were hurt and wanting to comfort you a little. “They’re just upset that they have to finally work hard at a form of magic.”

It’s true, James and Sirius both were incredible wizards, it came easy to them. You often thought that they were just made of magic, that they didn’t ever have to try in any of their classes.

“I might not be able to transfigure a barrel into a slipper on my first try, but you definitely couldn’t explain the difference between quartz and tigers eye and their respective uses.” you say to them.

“That’s why we want your help, Y/N. You know this doesn’t come easy to us. And to you, you're just so in tune with it, it’s like you have this rare, secret talent for it.” Sirius says. You’re still offended, but the compliments were helping.

“We don’t know how you do it, honestly.” Added James.

“Fine… I’ll still help you,” you said, they smiled apologetically at you. “But you have to do all my history of magic papers for the rest of the month.”

Sirius groaned but agreed, saying that it wouldn’t be too hard, just take a lot of time.

“Ok fine, but you have to teach us ovomancy and capnomancy too.” James bargained.

“Deal,” you said happily, excited to share your knowledge with the boys.

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tubbytarchia · 1 year ago

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Etho doodles in which I let my inner dinosaur nerd take over 😔 and also have no idea how to shade

Get it cause he's old and washed up haha... ok but actual raptor Etho hybrid justification below cut

To be honest the main reason was because I really wanted a hybrid in the mix who wasn't some furry creature and a reptile or amphibian or smth instead. Etho still ended up feathered but whatever it's close enough! But for ACTUAL reasoning:

He does feel damn ancient, like an old deity of the mcyt space that no one can dislike. Dinosaurs are the same!! They're old but still thought of with great fascination and fondness, everyone loves dinosaurs...

Dinosaurs are ever so mysterious, as many advancements as we make there's still so much we don't know. Just as we know jackshit about mister Kakashi skin man. Also, there are so many incomplete skeletons out there. I didn't have a particular species in mind for Etho, because where's the mystery in that? He can be one of those 5% skeleton 95% speculation dinosaurs like this guy!! Missing jaw and all

"I'm a runner, not a protector" - so, a raptor, or more specifically the Dromaeosauridae family, which literally has "running/runner" in its name

But! I'm always a fan of stuff going against its nature, especially in this case! Etho states he's not a runner yet protects his allies rather fiercely even in total silence. Eg refusing to kill Cleo in SL or to give away Tango's location during the LimL manhunt, same for Grian in SL. He was a bit flaky in 3L I think? And he only started to have genuine care for allies in LL with Bdubs? Though he is still very much a runner in many cases like during the LL Wither fight. Research also strongly suggests that most if not all raptors were solitary hunters, and the way I see Etho (through my shamefully limited watchtime of his POVs...) he feels a lot like someone who ultimately only trusts himself at the start even if he's pleasant and allying with others, and doesn't seem to think he can carry his weight in groups though he doesn't voice this a lot. That's just how Etho is, very composed, but it feels like there's an insecurity there, showcased especially in SL but again I haven't seen almost any of his POVs in full so maybe I'm talking out of my ass!! Sorry ethogirls I'm only a sidegig ethogirl myself... But yeah tldr to me he gives off the vibe of an otherwise solitary animal struggling to find 100% sure footing in a pack. In whichever ways he does go against his nature, its not usually made a show of

At the mention of a raptor, a lot of people will probably think of the glamourized Jurassic Park Velociraptors. But those awesome guys from the movies are actually the size of chickens. In general though, dinosaurs tend to be a bit.. exaggerated in media, despite how inherently fascinating they already are. And I think it fits Etho because we all know how the Lifers seem to fear and mancrush on him when he's just some dork with perfect capability to become pathetic at a moment's notice. Still, he's a clearly skilled player and still respected without question Etho's not some killer machine like some people make dinosaurs out to be. He's just a fellow creature fulfilling his role in the ecosystem 👍

dinosaurs are cool

The hook-like sickle claws on the feet... something something fishing rod

I swear I'm not turning all my Lifers into hybrids I'm not!! Still plenty normal humans in the mix I swear....... But Etho is such a radical dude, I really wanted to do something more for him. The whole Kitsune thing that I often see associated with him is really cool. I don't actually know the reasoning for it but I assume something something naruto, but also, him being this ancient mythical cryptid who people know so little about, you know? It makes SO much sense. So anyway I turned him into a dinosaur instead rawr

As a herbivore advocate I also considered stuff like the triceratops (known for how they protect themselves and their own) but nah the raptor symbolism...

#ethoslab fanart #ethoslab #listen I have an ankylosaurus as my sona of course Im a dinosaur nerd #trafficblr #I feel so weird having so few tags um.#hey ethogirls how are you doing whats your guys' favorite dinosaurs #tubby art

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chaptersleftunwritten · 6 months ago

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Scared?

Blurb: Eddie is the bane of all your desires but he is also your brother’s best friend… which makes him off-limits. During a visit to your family home Eddie gets a little fed up with you prancing around almost naked and decides that- Enough. Is. Enough.

Pairing: Older brothers best friend!Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader.

Warnings: slight angst, 18+, Mean!Eddie, dubcon/noncon, oral (f receiving), choking, unprotected sex (p in v) swearing, rough sex, slight Bully!Eddie, Dom!Eddie.

divider by @cafekitsune

It really wasn’t Eddie’s fault, what was he to do? Sit back and watch you act like a little slut? To be quite frank, he was sick of it. He was fed up with you pining for his attention constantly-

He had known for sometime how you felt about him. The way your skirt got hiked up a few inches as soon as he entered through the door, or how you would ‘accidentally’ drop things right in front of him, flashing your ass as you bent down to retrieve them. Your brother, Sam, was oblivious to it all. You were his innocent little sister and nothing could change his perception of you. But Eddie knew… he knew how much you wanted him.

It was Halloween night and Sam and Eddie had planned to go TP a few houses, maybe launch a few eggs as well whilst they were at it and like always Eddie was the designated driver. Not because Sam was drinking alcohol but because he still hadn’t got his license. The lazy piece of shit, Eddie thought to himself as he rapped a few hard knocks on your family home’s front door, not expecting to see you answer it.

You roll your eyes at the sight of Eddie, full of a stinking attitude, “Sam isn’t here.” Your hip has popped to one side and Eddie’s jaw clenches with withered patience.

“Where is he?” His voice is clipped, like he doesn’t even want to talk to you.

“Dunno.” You shrug, blowing a small bubble with the bubblegum you’re chewing in your mouth.

“When will he be back?” Eddie shoves his hands into his jean pockets, rocking back and forward on his heels slightly.

“Like I said- I. don’t. Know.” A tight lipped smile stretches Eddie’s face in an almost sinister way.

“Can I at least come in and wait? Surely you don’t hate me that much?” He was toying with you, knowing fine well how much you lusted for him. He had read your cute little diary a few weeks back, the one decorated with rhinestones and feathers… although, its appearance on the outside paled in comparison to the fucking filth written on the inside. The pages were filled with your dirty fantasies and the common denominator between them all?

They were all about Eddie.

It was always him lapping between your legs with his soaking wet tongue, stroking your pussy and making you scream. It was his lips pinching the skin of your neck, leaving marks all over your soft flesh. It was Eddie’s fingers that would bruise your ass with his hard spankings…

And as much as he hated to admit it, the thought of it all turned him on. His cock rock hard in his jeans as he flicked through the pages, only to have to shove it back beneath your bed seconds later.

“Ugh, fine.” You step to the side, allowing the long haired man to slither inside. Eddie had a plastic bag with him, filled with the supplies for the night ahead and you snatch it from him to look inside.

“Hey!” His voice is a rough bark as it leaves his lips, “Give it back!” You only manage to steal a glimpse inside before he is tearing it from your hands, ripping the bag in the process. Eddie lets out an agitated groan, “Fucking great, look what you did!” He waves the bag in front of your face, “Do you seriously have to be such a fucking brat all the time? Pathetic!” His words are laced with venom as he spits them at you- and you should be upset by his words and the way he is reacting but really… it turns you on.

“Why do you have a ‘Scream’ mask?” You bat your eyelashes at him, chewing on your bottom lip as you try to rile him up a bit more, “If anything is pathetic, it’s that. You call that a costume?” You spin on your heels, giggling as you do and you head to the living room to grab some things that you were about to take upstairs before he interrupted you.

“It’s a ghostface mask, the movie is called Scream..” he follows flush behind you, “And it’s not pathetic.” He rakes his ring clad fingers through his hair, clearly you have already managed to stress him out and he has only been here five minutes.

“What are you dressing up as?” He collapses down onto the sofa, “Let me guess-“ he taps his finger on his lips pensively, his eyes drinking in your figure, “You’re gonna be a slutty… something. Am I right?” He grins and you frown over at him.

“I’m not dressing up, you asshole.” Your fingers hook around the handles of your laundry basket, ready to lift it up to your bedroom, “Maybe you should go as a massive dick- because that’s what you are, Munson. A big fat fucking dick!” As soon as the words leave your mouth your chest clenches with heavy regret. You weren’t scared before, but with the look on Eddie’s face, you’re terrified now.

Eddie’s usually puppy soft brown eyes cloud with what you can only assume is rage. You have pushed him to the edge- no, you have pushed him right fucking off of it. He’s done playing these games with you. He’ll make you regret ever wanting him in the first place.

“Don’t look so afraid now, Dollface.” His steps toward you are calculated and his heavy boots pound on the carpeted floor with intention, “You want some help with that?” He nods toward the basket in your arms and you shake your head silently. This basket is the only thing separating you from him and you’ll grip onto it for the rest of your life if it meant Eddie couldn’t get any closer to you.

“Give me it.” He demands, his voice is grumbly as he pries the laundry from your shaking fingers, “Your bedroom, right? That’s where you were taking these?” You nod, not saying another word. Eddie’s demeanour seems as cool as ice but you can see the war waging behind his eyes. He is fucking pissed-

“Words.” He bites, “They exist for a reason y’know.”

“Yes. My room.” You hate the way your voice sounds as it leaves your throat. You wish you could take it back, all of it- all of the times you pressed his buttons, teased him, insulted him. But it’s too late now. What’s done is done,

Eddie gestures an arm out toward the staircase, “Ladies first.” He insists with a forced smile and you suddenly feel an urge to apologise to him for the tiny little shorts you are wearing that are barely covering your ass- hell, some people would consider them underwear.

“Eddie-“ you try to reason with him but immediately you swallow the words after seeing his face contort in a way you don’t want to test. So, you take to the stairs. Your steps are slow as you lift one foot after another, not daring to look back at Eddie who is right behind you on the way up.

The top of the staircase approaches like one lead to the noose and you can hear a voice in your head screaming at you to run away, to fight against him, to protest this- but you don’t. You stay quiet, because deep down… you want this. And you have wanted this for years.

Both of you walk through your bedroom door and you stand as far from him as you can as Eddie dumps your laundry basket down onto the floor, leaving it in a far off corner, “Thank you.” You squeak with a sweet smile, but Eddie doesn’t leave. In fact, he closes your bedroom door and clicks the lock shut. Leaving the both of you alone.

“Get on the bed.” His voice is almost unrecognisable and you would have listened to him if you weren’t frozen stiff to the spot where you stood. It’s as if your feet have been bolted to the floor. Your arms that were crossed over your chest come to fall limply at your sides with shock, “What, do you need help with that too?” Eddie clicks his tongue in distaste, marching over to you he grabs your arms so tightly that you know there will be bruises there tomorrow and he throws you onto the bed so hard that you nearly go flying over it.

“What the hell are you doing?!” You scream, repositioning yourself on the bed to glare at him, but instead of glaring back, he smiles.

“There she is- I wondered where that little smart mouth of yours went.” His large hands find his hair and he pulls it from his shoulders and up into a messy bun, “I was almost starting to feel bad for you- you were so close to avoiding all of this.” You were confused for the most part- what was he going to do to you? Beat you? Eddie would never hurt you, you know that. But why would he lock you away?

“Avoid what? Eddie, I’m sorry-“ Your pleas are cut short by a yelp as Eddie grabs your bare ankles, pulling you savagely to the edge of the bed and restraining your legs in the air.

“No you’re not. You never are.” You had dreamed of this so many times, Eddie Munson in your bedroom, his hands all over your skin… but this seemed to be going in a different direction. One you weren’t sure of.

“Please,” You can feel your eyes becoming a bit teary and Eddie laughs at you manically. Of course you want nothing more than for him to fuck you, but the way he is acting is so out of character… it’s frightening.

“Scared?” He pouts out his bottom lip mockingly, “Aww, the baby is gonna cry- are you crying?” He laughs harder and you decide enough is enough. You attempt to swing your legs off of the bed to stand up but Eddie has other plans. He grabs your frame, taking your wrists into his hands he pins you to the mattress. His waist is slotted between your thighs and the blush that grows on your cheeks is feverish.

“I thought you wanted this…” His appearance softens as his lips come to the shell of your ear, nibbling on the soft flesh, “You’re gonna take my cock and you’re gonna fucking like it.” You can feel him grinning against the nape of your neck before he sucks on the skin, his tongue flicking and soothing the bruises that he’s making. It’s almost like he had read your diary…

Despite the ache pulsing beneath your panties you can’t allow this to happen, Sam would be distraught. It would ruin your siblinghood and Eddie and his friendship. It’ll be a shit show!

“No,” You whisper, fighting the urge to moan as Eddie sucks on a sweet spot you didn’t even know existed.. but he doesn’t stop and you head is becoming hazy with lust, “Eddie, no…” you buck your hips up against his in protest, trying to free yourself from beneath him but he presses his hardened bulge against you tighter, his weight dominating you. You’re trapped.

He grinds his hips into you and you accidentally allow a moan to slip through, it’s faint and dripping with sugar and it sends Eddie’s primal instincts fucking wild. He wants to hear it again but he also needs to find a way to take total control of you.

Eddie starts at your neck, kissing down between the valley of your breasts to your torso he lands at your hips. He momentarily lets go of your wrists so his large thumbs can massage your hip bones and he expects you to try to flee from the bed but you don’t. Or so he thought. You lunge up from the bed and scamper for the door, but unfortunately for you Eddie is fast and before you are able to reach the door his arms are hooked around your waist, carrying you back to the bed. You try screaming, but you know that no one is home… no one’s going to hear you and no one is coming to save you.

This time, Eddie’s impatience is at its peak. He pushes you onto your knees, the bones crashing onto the floor and he forces you face down onto the mattress. Grabbing your arms he secures both of your hands behind your back with a pair of pantyhose from your laundry pile, knotting them tight around your wrists and ignoring your sobs of complaint.

“Stop it!!” You try to stand up but Eddie helps you, only to then shove you back onto your bed. Your sheets were perfectly crease-free this morning when you left your room, now your duvet is a total mess and some of your pillows are on the floor.

“Shut the fuck up!!” Eddie grabs your cheeks, his voice is an animalistic growl as he slams your head back into a pile of pillows. Your bottom lip quiver but your body is betraying your mind- your panties are soaked. Drenched in slick from your core, “I won’t hesitate to gag you, do you understand?” He is between your thighs again and all you can muster is a weak nod, tears still streaking down your face.

“See? You can be a good girl.” A smugness pulls his lips up into a smirk and you readjust yourself to get comfortable, trying to not allow your arms to go to sleep.

It doesn’t take long for Eddie to undress himself and his mind is reeling at the sight of you quivering and crying on your bed. He has wanted nothing more than to punish you for your behaviour for months- and now he is… and you can’t stop him. He rips your shorts down your legs and to he is pleasantly surprised to see that he accidentally pulled your panties off with them, “Whoops.” He tosses them behind him and they land somewhere in the room, “I’ll save those for later…”

You feel overly exposed to him and you try to clamp your thighs together to shield yourself but Eddie isn’t having any of it, “Fucking behave!” He warns, his hand finding your throat as he squeezes it at each side- your mind becomes hazy and your vision nearly totally blacks out.

When he lets go you are fighting for a breath, but no I’m a bad way. You’re more panting than gasping and soon those pants are replaced by moans as you suddenly feel Eddie’s face between your legs. His tongue is licking slow tedious strips up your dripping wet slit and his lips latch onto your swollen clit, sucking it relentlessly, “Taste so good,” He groans, his eyes hooded with hunger and desire, “Pussy is mine. Only fucking mine” His voice vibrates against your folds and your head tilts back against the pillows, your back arching off of the mattress as you resist the urge to grind your pussy on his tongue. You’re not meant to be enjoying this, but your tears have stopped and your moans are getting louder and louder...

“All those tears and for what?” Eddie laughs, blowing some cool air onto your flooded core, sending tingles racing up your spine, “I knew you wanted this, you little fucking slut. Maybe you’ll think twice before wearing skimpy clothes around me, eh?” His eyes meet yours and you nearly cum at the sight. His mouth is glistening with your arousal and his eyes are swirling with hunger.

He latches himself back onto you, his tongue flicking furiously at your sensitive bundle of nerves and just as you are about to feel your release he pulls his, causing a penetrative whine to fill the air.

“You’re gonna cum on my cock- and I’m gonna fill your cute little pussy with my cum.” He digs his fingertips into the flesh of your thighs and you wince at the pain before nodding obediently.

“Words!” He slaps your inner thigh and you yelp.

“Y.. yes! Yes, Eddie!” You’re breathless, swollen, red and craving release and Eddie is drunk on it all. He has total control over you.. he can do as he fucking pleases with you and you can’t do a single thing about it.

His jeans are on the floor in seconds and his hard cock springs from his underwear, causing your eyes to widen. You called him a massive dick early- you just didn’t know that he had one. You couldn’t help the fear that filled your chest at the thought that this actually might hurt.

Jumping from the bed you watch as he walks over to where your laundry basket is, his fist pumping at his shaft as he does. He reached behind the basket, pulling out the Halloween mask from earlier and he slips it on.

“What is it you said about this earlier?” He taps the white plastic of the mask, his deep voice now muffled by the material, “That it was pathetic?” He hums in disappointment and you can tell that beneath that mask he is grinning like a mad man.

He slaps his cock against your core, laughing as you gasp at the sensitivity of it. Using your knees as leverage he holds your thighs wide open, teasing your entrance with the swollen tip of his shaft and when you hear him moan it sends your mind fleeting into the clouds. You must have died and went to heaven because this is what this felt like.

He sinks down, fully submerging every inch of himself deep inside of you and you whimper at the stretch. You fucking whimper and Eddie’s eyes roll to the back of his head, “Fuck,” he seethes, “You’re so wet, Doll. So wet and tight and warm for me.” He groans and your bottom lip feels like it could be bleeding from how hard you are biting on it. You never thought you would see the day when Eddie Munson fucks you in a horror mask- but anything is possible if you’re bratty enough.

He bottoms out, watching through the dark eyeholes of the mask as he sinks back inside of you. He slow at first, making sure to drink in every pulse, every filthy wet noise- but then he’s speeding up. He doesn’t care that you’re screaming out from the change in rhythm he is starving- he wants to use you like you’re a doll and whatever Eddie wants, Eddie gets.

“Ahh!!” You cry out, your eyes pinching shut as Eddie’s shaft hits your special spot ,”Shit!” Your breathing hitches in your throat and your nails claw at the pantyhose around your wrists, desperate to grip onto something to steady yourself.

Eddie’s moans intensify, the sound of wet skin slapping against one another fills the air as Eddie grabs your throat again, desperately chasing his own release ,”Look at me!” He urges with haste and you do, your eyes reopening to settle on the ghostface cladding his features. You try your best, you really do and Eddie appreciates the way you fight to keep your pretty eyes open and on him as the oxygen is deprived to your brain but as you reach your high and Eddie spills inside of you.. you black out.

Completely unconscious and the only image you remember when you reawaken is that of the ghostface mask from Scream…

taglist: @colorful-white-ideas

#dark!eddie munson #mean!eddie munson #bully!eddie #bully!eddie munson #stranger things #eddie munson stranger things #eddie munson x fem!reader smut #smut #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson x you #eddie munson one shot #eddie munson smut #eddie x you #eddie x reader #hellfire club #chaptersleftunwritten #scared?#mdni #dark!fic

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irishmammonagenda · 1 year ago

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MC's magic going wrong 😱😰

or right depending on ur outlook on life ig

warnings: swearing, mentions of death (extremely brief and only notioned towards), physical affection

You hadn´t thought much of it at first when you got back to the human realm. Everything went back to normal. Or as normal as it could be.

Your mother and father sobbed when they saw you, stating how they though´t you were lying in a ditch somewhere in the stretching countryside. You´d lied, told them you were away on a residency based apprenticeship, that you were sorry for worrying them. Your siblings showed signs of worry you never thought they were able to feel for you. Thus you were being babied for a month or so.

That´s when it started.

At first, it was more corvids at the bird feeder in your garden than usual. Then it was stray cats. Then inexplicable black and white feathers dusting your clothing and hair.

Your mother smiled picking out the ivory feather from the confines of your unbrushed hair, "Oh! Your guardian angel´s been watching over you!" she says playfully, an old wives´ tale, nothing too serious.

You tense for a moment, before laughing with her. "Well I´ll take it as a good sign." Stupid old wives being the smartest people.

At first it was easy to brush off.

Then your father started getting lucky, he hadn't been one to gamble persay, putting a few coins in on a bet for the horse racing or the football was a regular occurrence, sometimes he won,sometimes he didn't. The difference of a few silvers, a share bag of sweets basically, made no real strain on your belts. But now, he was winning left right and center. Winning amounts that shouldnt be possible based on the amount he input.

Though, after you woke up to cats and corvids staring at you unblinkingly, in your room, with a few flies and insects on the walls, and your bedsheets covered in feathers and scales of all colours and sizes, enough was enough.

You were going to give those nerds a piece of your mind.

After shooing the animals out, (making sure to pet the cats), you picked up a lipstick, and channeled your pact magic before drawing a circle with various symbols on the floor,

You stilled, "Ah, shit. I dunno how to do this, i mean half of those symbols are angry faces and squiggles...." but ever the theatre nerd, you improved.

"I, MC, call upon the power of my pacts with the Avatars of Hell! and, using their power; a portal to the Devildom shall open for me!"

And a portal did open for you. Unfortunately, not to the best place. As you travelled through the time pocket you ended up stumbling once you made it to the other side, the stumble turnt into a tumble turnt into a fall. Unluckily for you, the thing you fell on was toned flesh and chuckling heartily, you were in Diavolo's lap.

"It's great of you to drop by MC!" He says, his massive hands pulling you further into his frame.

You cover your face with your hands, now noticing the various other nobles in the council room who are staring at their Prince, attempting to mask the fact their jaws are going to hit the floor.

Atleast the Brothers weren't there, but Barbatos' half polite smile half smirk and Diavolo whispering various playful musings of, "Did you miss me that much little human, we missed you too.", and "Summoning a portal illegally into the Demon Lord's castle and onto the Demon Princes lap...tututut." almost made the brothers seem like a mercy....

...almost.

You couldn't tell if this was a win or a lose.

#obey me x reader #obey me shall we date #obey me imagines #obey me mc #obey me diavolo #obey me brothers #obey me #diavolo x reader #obey me crack #obey me fluff

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somanyratsinthewalls · 16 days ago

Note

congrats on 900 followers! id like to request for a mixture of prompt 9 and 19 with maroon (mihawk) — not particularly smut but a bit of fluff included in it, have a good day or night!

-anon 🪐

Coincidence (+18)

THANK YOU ANON FOR REQUESTING! (Sorry I made it smut but theres plenty of angst cuteness too)

Pairing: Dracule Mihawk x Female Pirate!Reader

Prompts: “It’s fine. We’re all adults. We can sleep in the same bed.” And “Getting you naked was only part of the plan.”

WC: 2900

TWs: pet names, p in v sex, fingering, dirty talk, savior complex, previous alcohol mention, same bed! Swearing, kissing, idk? This is literally porn.

— —

“Good morning, little rabbit.” A low voice swims in your head.

Your eyelids flutter open. Everything is blurry. You’re laying in sand. Rain is pouring and you’re chilled to the bone.

*BOOM*

A clap of thunder snaps you fully awake and you start to cough up sea water. You heave yourself on your hands and knees to better expel the water from your stomach and lungs.

“I was sure you’d never wake up.” The voice came from above you, clearer now.

Once you caught your breath, you realized there was a pair of black boots in front of you in the wet sand. You crane your neck upwards to be met with the smug smirk of Dracule Mihawk, towering over you in the storm.

“H-how? Y-you? W-what?” You croak out, body starting to shiver violently.

“Now do you really want me to answer those questions right now, or would you like to come to my room at the inn down the road before The Great Pirate Y/n succumbs to hypothermia? An awful pitiful way to go out for a pirate captain, if you ask me.” He extends a hand to help you stand.

You roll your eyes and push yourself to your feet on your own.

Mihawk chuckles and lets his arm fall back to his side.

“Allow me.” Mihawk gestures to offer for you to follow him and heads to the cobblestone road from the beach. You hated the idea of seeking aide at the hands of another pirate, let alone one as dangerous as him… but the chill in your body and the ache in your chest were forcing your hand.

You follow him into town.

— —

After trying to keep up for several blocks, eventually Mihawk ducks into a nondescript establishment and holds the door open for you to follow. You step forward to move past him to enter the inn.

The first floor was dimly lit with oil lanterns and smelled of rich red wine and a wood burning stove. There were only a few patrons seated around the bar, none of which turned to look at you as the door was opened. The doorway was narrow so you had to turn your body to enter as Mihawk was still holding the door for you. As you brush past his chest he leans in to your ear and whispers.

“Stairs on the right. End of the hall. Be quick about it, before you drip all over the poor barkeeps floor.” His voice was low and teasing.

A deep shiver ran down your spine. No doubt due to the cold, wet clothing you were wearing, of course.

You nimbly flit up the stairs, sure that the former warlord was following closely behind as you could hear the clacking of his boots on the wooden steps. Mihawk catches up to you as you reach the door at the end of the hall. Without a word he uses a key to unlock the door and pushes it open for you.

You step inside and are immediately met with the glow of firelight and the smell of cologne. Seeing the blazing fire in the fireplace, you rush to throw yourself to your knees on the bearskin rug laid out in front of the fire.

You put your hands over the flames and you start to be able to feel your fingers again. You sigh in relief. After a few moments of enjoying the fire, you remember that you aren’t alone. Mihawk was standing against the wall, just watching you… arms crossed and feathered hat cocked to one side. The firelight glinted like topaz off his deep golden eyes as you met his gaze.

“How did you find me?” You manage to rasp out, finding your full voice again.

“A little birdie told me you were on your way to make an arms deal with smugglers somewhere in the area. I knew you’d come alone and your foolhardiness would ignore the incoming storm. Figured you’d wash up on the shore sometime.”

“A little bird? Or a little clown?” You quip back and rub your hands together over the blaze. “Stop talking like you know anything about me.”

“Was I wrong?” Mihawk is quick to retort. “The Cross Guild has eyes and ears everywhere. I am privy to endless amounts of whereabouts and information on the Grand Line.”

“And yet…” You stand. “With all that information at your disposal, you choose to end up here. Pursuing me.” You cock your head in inquiry.

The corners of Mihawk’s mouth twitch upwards briefly before returning to his stoic expression.

“You may wear my dressing gown for the night. You’ll catch your death if you spend another moment in those soaked rags.” The man says and nods towards the ensuite lavatory.

You take a moment to weigh your options… you hated to admit, but Mihawk was right. You needed to fully dry off before you caught pneumonia or worse. You push past him without saying a word into the bathroom and close the door behind you. As you close the door you see a floor length robe made of exquisite purple silk… this must be the dressing gown he was referring to. You stripped yourself of your sea-water soaked clothing and laid them on the side of the clawfoot tub to dry.

You looked in the mirror and were horrified. Your hair was tangled and your skin was littered with abrasions and decorated with sand and small wood debris from the wreckage.

You sigh.

You grab the washcloth from the side of the sink and turn on the knobs. Once the water was warm you soaked the cloth in the water and gently cleaned your face and body. The soothing temperature of the washcloth allowed you to relax more and you let our a long sigh as you rubbed your aching neck.

You set the washcloth down and straightened your hair the best you could, sorting out the tangles and knots with your nimble fingers.

Once satisfied you picked Mihawk’s dressing gown off the hook behind the bathroom door. It was crafted of a fine royal purple silk with intricate gold embroidery on the collar and the sleeves. You slip it on and cinch the tie around your waist, fully covering yourself. It was a bit large, seeing as Mihawk was much bigger than you, so the left shoulder began to fall as soon as you left the bathroom.

You enter the suite and your eyes find Mihawk’s hat and jacket discarded on the armchair.

You hear the gentle sound of liquid being poured and you turn your head. You were met with a shirtless Mihawk clad in nothing but sleeping trousers, pouring two heavy glasses of brandy on the end table next to the bed. This was the first time you realized there was nowhere else for you to sleep than the singular king-sized bed in the center of the room.

“No need to worry. We’re all adults here. There should be no issue sharing a bed.” Mihawk approaches you with two glasses of brandy in hand. “Feeling better?” He asks, almost playful. He extends a glass to you.

You take it.

“Aye. A bit.” You say as you take the glass of alcohol, your fingertips brushing against his as you grip the cup. Suddenly you were reminded of the last time you shared a drink with this particular man…

Your cheeks flushed and you looked to the floor. You had been so caught up in the drama of being shipwrecked and half-dead that you had forgotten the last time you had seen Dracule Mihawk…

“Why did you come here? Just to get me naked in your hotel room?” You ask.

Mihawk turns his back to you and sits on the bed.

“Oh darling, getting you naked was only part of my plan. You deal in arms… The Cross Guild happens to be in the market. I thought we could strike a friendly deal, little rabbit.” Mihawk sips his brandy. “We can offer triple whatever that scoundrel was willing to pay.”

“Well the cargo has been lost since the ship crashed but… wait how did you know I’d be here? This island?” You take a sip of you drink for courage. “You were accurate enough to know when and where I’d wash ashore? How?”

Mihawk smirks. He rises from the bed and fishes his hand into his trouser pocket. He steps closer to you. He pulls out a piece of soggy paper from his pocket and holds it in two fingers in front of your face.

“You don’t remember slipping me this?” Mihawk coos as the scrap of paper drips a bit onto the floor in between you both.

“My..” You gasp softly upon the realization of what he was holding in his hand.

“Yes, rabbit, your vivre card. You stuffed it into my jacket before you scampered off. You don’t recall?” Mihawk says, teasingly, cocking his head down to catch your avoidant gaze.

It was all coming back to you now…

Five months ago…

It was a loud, shady pirate bar on some shit-hole island your crew had docked at to resupply. It had been days since your ship’s booze supply had run dry and you used the opportunity to get good and sauced at the local tavern. At some point in your revelry, Dracule Mihawk had entered the very same bar and somehow you ended up on his lap… despite how much you claimed you despised him. How did it happen? Maybe a few featherlight touches across your waist… maybe a few dirty little nothings whispered in your ear… but all you could remember now was you melted like putty in his strong arms in the corner of a filthy dive bar. The memory was foggy but you remember stroking the sides of Mihawk’s carefully groomed beard and pushed your lips onto his with passion…

“You remember now, yes?” The voice snaps you back to the present.

You say nothing, embarrassed. You take another large gulp of brandy.

“I-I’m tired. I’m going to bed.” You rush past the large man in front of you and whip the comforter open. You slide in the bed. “W-we can talk business in the morning.”

“If you wish.” Mihawk says with a sigh.

Mihawk sets his glass down on the side table and extinguishes most of the candles in the room, leaving a few to burn to the wick overnight. You feel the comforter move across your body and the mattress beside you dip. You curl on your side away from the man laying beside you. You shudder, the chill of being nearly drowned still wracking your bones.

“You’re freezing.” Mihawk states before smoothly shifting to his side and wrapping his arm around your side. Your body tenses and he feels it. “So shy now, but not as much the last time we met?” You feel his hot breath against your ear.

“Well, we were drunk, so…” You huff out, trying to ignore the flush growing in your cheeks.

“And yet…” Mihawk starts. He slides his hand down your bicep to your hip, then further down to your thigh. His palm reaches your knee and gently pulls on it to hook your leg over his own, successfully opening your legs up for him. “Here you are now, completely sober and still soft and open for me…”

Your breath catches in your throat, unable to respond. Mihawk’s strong hand climbs up your torso again, this time gliding across your stomach and into your robe to grip your right breast softly. You gasp as he squeezes and runs his thumb across your nipple.

You feel a gentle grind of Mihawk’s hips against your backside, shuddering as you distinctly make out the largeness of his member between your cheeks. The former warlord’s nose nuzzles your scalp sweetly as he presses his lips closer to your ear.

“Do you feel that? I’ve been waiting so long since you ran away…” Mihawk whispers as he presses his hardened cock further into you. “Tell me… little rabbit… why did you run from me?”

You press your ass back harder into Mihawk’s pelvis and whine.

“No no, tell me. I was ready to take you to my chambers and ravish you until the sun rose….” Mihawk purrs as he slides his hand from your breast to between your legs and cups your mound. “Tell me why you fled my arms that night.” He presses his middle finger on your seam, gently stimulating your clit.

“I… I don’t know…” You manage to croak out.

“That isn’t true, darling… you know that.” Mihawk begins to rub your sex in gently circles with 3 fingers, softly encouraging you to give in to him.

“I…I didn’t… want…” You sigh and lean your head back into Mihawks face.

“You didn’t want what, love? Tell me.” Mihawk leans up further and kisses up your neck to the spot behind your ear. With your arousal growing, he spreads your folds and uses a single digit to press into your exposed, throbbing clit.

“Y-you were going to- Ah!” You were interrupted by the sensation of Mihawk dipping a finger shallowly into your hole to gather your wetness to smear across your clit, further heightening your pleasure. “You were going to leave… It- it would have- oh god!” You cry out as two thick fingers suddenly breach your entrance and curve right up into your sweet spot.

“It would have bothered you to see me leave, little rabbit?” Mihawk teases and leans forward over your shoulder. He slowly pulls out his fingers before pushing them back inside to pull at your favorite spot again. He torturously slowly continues fingering you, feeling the way your insides pulse everything now and then around him, pushing out more of your slick to coat his hand further. “You think I would have let you go without me?”

You turn your head and open your eyes. You meet Mihawk’s gaze from over your shoulder. You were half drunk on the feeling of his fingers inside of you, but you were almost certain he was confessing to you.

“Y-you.. Shit- more… please…” You moan and buck your hips upwards into Mihawks hand, trying to get more stimulation.

“Tch.” He clicks his tongue. “Sweet girl wants more? Already? You must have been thinking about this just as much as I have…” Mihawk says as he speeds up the pace of his fingers inside of you.

The grind of his palm against your slick clit in combination of his fingers hammering up and down against your special spot quickly sent you careening over the edge of climax.

“My Gods- Mihawk!” You cry out as you feel yourself gush against your lovers hand and your shoulders shudder forward.

“There it is, what a good girl you are.” Mihawk slows the pace of his fingers and pulls them out of you gingerly. “I haven’t stopped thinking about the vulgar sounds and expressions you might make when you cum, and it’s far surpassed my imagination.” Mihawk shifts and positions himself on his knees between your legs. “Now let me see it again.” He rubs his tip up and down your wet slit, teasing his mushroom head at your hole. “Tell me you want this. Tell me you don’t and we go back to being adversaries and forget this ever happened.” He purrs down at you.

“I.. I want this. Please…” You get out through shaky breaths, still recovering from your orgasm. You reach your hand down to wrap over Mihawk’s hand on his member, guiding him to push into you.

“Anything you want, my rabbit.” He coos as he presses hard into your body, letting out a groan as he bottoms out against your cervix. You squeal and claw at his chest, cunt clenching around his length unpredictably. “Let me take care of you…”

Mihawk wraps one arm around your torso to push you down further onto his cock while supporting himself with his other one. He leans down and smashes his lips into yours. He kisses you hard as he picks up the pace of his thrusts. You squeak against his lips each time his cock drags against your sweet spot, your body riding up further on the bed with every hard thrust into your sopping pussy.

Mihawk pulls back.

“I knew that night I was going to take you back with me. I’ve known for a long time that you were mine… but that night you slipped away…” Mihawk huffs out down at you.

You could do nothing but moan in response as you find yourself approaching your high once again.

“Oh, fuck, oh!” Your mouth drops open as you cum, cradling Mihawk’s face against yours as you scream. Your hips buck and you whimper as your sensitivity starts to get the better of you.

“You’re mine, y/n. Ah-“

With a final gasp and a hard thrust, you feel your lover flood your insides with his warm spend.

You flinch a bit as you feel the still twitching cock slip from your hole, walls still so slick and sensitive. You were flipped around gently and pulled into Mihawk’s broad chest. You nuzzle sleepily between his pectorals. After several moments of comfortable silence, you break the peace.

“There was never any business deal, was there?” You ask.

“No of course not.” Mihawk says with a gentle kiss to the top of your head.

-- --

#one piece #one piece fanfiction #one piece fanart #one piece anime #one piece live action #one piece netflix #one piece fandom #one piece smut #op mihawk #mihawk x reader #one piece mihawk #hawkeye mihawk #dracule mihawk

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moonpascaltoo · 2 months ago

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logan ‘james’ howlett

masterlist • x-men • 11/19/24

˚‧⁺ ･ ˖ · ୨ৎ recs two

one

𑣲 the great war I @pretty-little-mind33

When you get unwillingly administered the cure, you find solace in someone you don't think you deserve to see again.

𑣲 dear reader I @/pretty-little-mind33

You think Logan hates you but all he's doing is saving you from himself. He didn't think his plan would explode in his face.

𑣲 redamancy I @little-miss-dilf-lover

you often worry you can never keep up with your husband's continuous acts of love and care, your attempts always seeming to come up short. logan catches on and shows you that there’s nothing for you to prove.

𑣲 between your thighs I @logansbaby

𑣲 practice I @selfcarecap

Your roommate Logan lets you practise giving a blowjob on him for your date with another guy.

𑣲 sharing is caring ft. peter parker I @/selfcarecap

Your new teammate Peter Parker has a huge crush on you, and your boyfriend Logan has always wanted to watch someone else fuck you. It’s Peter’s birthday and Logan decides to share.

𑣲 muse I @/selfcarecap

Logan would never admit it to anyone, but over the course of his long life he has attempted to draw maybe once or twice. He hasn’t done it in years, maybe even decades, but he’s struck by inspiration when he meets you. Of course, no one can know that Wolverine draws, so he does it in the dead of night, sliding anonymous envelopes with the finished drawings of you under your door. When he sees how much you love them, he wonders if you could also love the person behind them.

𑣲 suspension bridge effect I @d1stalker

You saved one of the younger mutants during a mission, and now he's obsessed with you, much to Logan's dismay

𑣲 a peaceful repose I @/d1stalker

After some time away on a mission, Logan comes home, and all he wants to do is be around you

𑣲 all of you, all of me I @/d1stalker

In a world of black and white, the only person who could bring colour to your life is the last one who'd want to.

𑣲 never is a promise I @joelsgoldrush

You are everything Logan isn’t: sweet, trouble-free, much younger—and, to top it off, Charles' caregiver.

𑣲 epiphany I @/joelsgoldrush

Superheroes and mutants weren’t enough. No—the universe had to throw in soulmates who share scars. Fantastic, right? Except yours had vanished, only to mysteriously reappear with the arrival of a new face: the “Worst” Logan Howlett, fresh from another earth.

𑣲 give me all of that ultraviolence I @/joelsgoldrush

You give Logan head for the first time.

𑣲 guilty pleasure I @/joelsgoldrush

After saving Earth-10005 from impending disaster, Wade convinces Logan, the alcoholic and easily irritated mutant, to stick around for a while. He’s convinced that nothing good can come out of this experience, until he meets you: the charming bartender with a soft spot for swearing that matches his own. Suddenly, sticking around doesn’t seem so bad after all.

@eufezco ✰ birds of a feather the tva erased you from your timeline when logan died, you've been living in the void since then.

@not-neverland06 ✰ kid? You walk in on Logan and Jean in a compromising position and feel your heart break. You really thought he loved you, you were so wrong. ✰ you’re not her You hate him, you really fucking hate him at first. He’s cruel and constantly reminds you that you’ll never be the hero he knew. You’re not her and he’s made that abundantly clear. But what are you supposed to do when he’s suddenly your new roommate and you have no choice but to wake up to his face every day?

@guiltyasdave ✰ help me hold onto you Logan deals with feeling guilty after he's accidentally cut you with his claws in his sleep.

@eupheme ✰ sugar, sugar part 2 part 3 Your eccentric neighbor Wade may drive you a little up the wall… but, you’re willing to put up with him if it means he’ll introduce you to his new, grumpy-looking roommate. ✰ casual It doesn’t matter that your heart flips when you look at him. It’s Logan. It’s just casual.

@skywalkerslvt ✰ truth serum You and Logan, drugged with truth serum, get trapped in separate cells during a mission.

@moonlight-prose ✰ dreams unwind, loves a state of mind they told him to change the future, to right the wrongs that the world caused. but he didn't do it for them. he did it for the chance to see his lover one more time. even if he shared a different history than them.

@thebestandworstdayofjune ✰ in the refrigerator light part 2 part 3 you are somehow unprepared to run into Logan while on the quest for a midnight snack... in the house you both live in.

@rqnarok ✰ old!man logan ✰ breeding kink

@bpmiranda ✰ innocent!reader

@logansluvr ✰ taste You won’t admit it, but it stung when you realized you were just a placeholder while Logan waited for Jean AGAIN. Now that she has him, she realizes that no matter how hard she tries there will always be you somewhere on him…Or Jean and Logan both fucked themselves over while you enjoy the aftermath.

@pandapetals ✰ mr. darcy halloween costumes, logan dresses up as Mr. Darcy, pride and prejudice ✰ haircut Logan's hair has grown out and he wants you to cut it.

@wadewnstonwilson ✰ need you close when your busy schedule leaves logan feeling neglected, he craves your attention in his own way—by showing up with small, thoughtful gestures and lingering touches that hint at his pent-up need. despite his rugged exterior, logan’s vulnerability shines through as he tries to remind you he’s still there, waiting.

@logaenhowlett ✰ something happens and i’m head over heels What starts off as a simple favour to watch Laura’s cat sends Logan into a spiral as you continue to make your way into his life.

@pedroscurls ✰ runaway bride on the day of your wedding, you find out that your maid of honor and husband-to-be has been hooking up behind your back... and you run directly into the arms of a stranger to help you cope with the sudden betrayal.

@yxtkiwiyxt ✰ into the unknown part 2 part 3 Logan becomes emotionally constipated when he accidentally hurts you during one of his nightmares.

@happy74827 ✰ say yes to heaven Sometimes all it takes is one look. One gesture. One word. One action. To remind them that not everyone sees them the same, and It's enough to send a person over the edge.

@gothgoblinbabe ✰ she wolf You've got a crush on your best friend and he's a bit of a dick. He regrets it and tries to apologize but you're already trying to push yourself to move on any way you can, even if it's in some shady club you'd never been to before.

@sacredsorceress ✰ scars every person has a soulmate. after settling in the future that he saved, logan starts to consider his next mission when a suspicious mark appears on him.

@shellshocklove ✰ snapshot short on money for rent, your joke about starting an only fans account, to earn some extra cash, goes over logan's head. but when an accident with charles puts your life in danger, logan takes you up on your offer.

#logan howlett #logan howlett x reader #james howlett #james howlett x reader #logan james howlett #wolverine #wolverine x reader #wolverine x you #logan howlett x you #logan howlett smut #logan howlett angst #logan howlett fluff #logan howlett series #logan howlett oneshot #logan howlett fic recs #logan james howlett x you #x y/n #xmen #hugh jackman character

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formylovetodaryldixon · 2 months ago

Text

“Russian roulette.” Daryl Dixon Imagine.

(Not my gif)

The game of killing or dying was too much for you after Richard was about to use you as bait, so you left to not be part of that life. However, it happens that you have a husband who is an excellent hunter, and who swears to you that he would burn everything in his path until he finds you.

A/N: This is an imagine I wrote a long time ago, but that was the first time I wrote smut (I suck at it, really) that's why I never did it, but I tried my best hehe. I realized that I love, LOVE writing Daryl as a husband, is kind of hot♥ (Sorry if there are any grammatical errors)

From afar, Daryl sees you teaching the children of the kingdom how to use the bow in the archery area. Some little ones had good bases to become great archers, to protect themselves and others from the dead, but he sees too how they insist that you show them again how it was done. So you search inside the quiver that hangs against your back, taking an arrow with a red feather in it that shines in the morning sun when you connect it with the bow. With a fluid movement, you raise the bow to the height of your face, pointing towards the target in front but far from you, and your arrow pierces right in the middle of the yellow point of the objective.

Daryl smiles proudly, but decides not to get close when King Ezekiel approaches you. Instead, Daryl walks away from there and crosses the garden and some houses, while, near him, Richard keeps practicing in his own archery area, and watches Daryl as he approaches.

“I’m practicing. I have to start using these more.” He raises the bow close to his face, aiming towards the target, but the arrow hit the black point far from the center. “I know your wife can do much better.”

“She can.” Daryl says, and Richard turns to him.

“Morgan said you’re a bowman.” Richard takes the crossbow from the big box between them, holding a calm expression that Daryl doesn’t trust in, but he takes it, glancing at Richard with suspicion.

“Why?”

“Because we want the same things. And I need your help.”

He is talking about the saviors, Daryl knows it well, so he checks the weight of the crossbow in his hands before he lifts it close to his face, ready to shoot.

Daryl and Richard walk down the empty highway with green trees at the sides and a desolate view. The plan is to attack first, a surprise ambush that would cause a war between the Kingdom and the saviors, to then finally kill them to live safe. So they hide behind a big cargo truck by the side of the road, putting down their weapons and backpacks.

“They ride this road. If we see cars: it’s the saviors. They are coming in bands of 2 or 3. That’s why I need you. I can’t take them down alone.” Richard says. He kneels in front of his backpack, pulling the liquor bottles out of it. “We hit them with the guns first, then with the molotovs, and back to the guns until they are dead.”

“Why the fire?”

“It needs to look bad.” But Daryl doesn’t seem convinced, and walks around Richard with his crossbow in hand, forcing him with just a look to continue explaining himself. “The saviors who discovers what’s left…” Richard gets up and turns around to look at Daryl. “We want them to be angry. I left a trail from here to the weapons cache near to an open field that will take them… to a person who practices near here and that Ezekiel cares about.”

Daryl narrows his eyes, because he was too protective to let a person be exposed like that.

“Who’s that?”

“Just a person that will help.”

“Lives in the kingdom?”

“She practices out of there.”

Daryl stops himself.

“It’s a woman?”

Richard frowns, suddenly becoming impatient.

“What’s that matter? She got more balls than you and me together. She’s not gonna die, but when the saviors come and find their friends dead, they will follow the trail and go to the gun’s cache, then to the open field and they’ll try to attack this woman…”

Daryl frowns, growing impatient as well.

“What’s 'er name?”

“They won’t kill her, but that’s gonna show Ezekiel what he needs to do. He will see she was about to get hurt because of the saviors and just then he will fight.”

Richard’s betrayal begins to unfold in front of Daryl’s eyes, but he doesn’t like what he hears, and as a reflection, his hand tightens on the crossbow.

“'er name. What is it?”

“She is tough. She will live.”

The pieces of the puzzle begin to fit in and Daryl starts to have a complete view of Richard’s plan, but he doesn't want to act recklessly until he hears it with his own ears.

“Say 'er damn name!”

He needs to hear it to be sure. However, although his threatening look makes Richard almost surrender, he shows no fear, showing all his disinterest towards your life.

“(Y/N)”

Containing himself so as not to kill Richard at that very moment with a single arrow in his skull is the hardest thing Daryl ever did. But his body is shaking with anger; the blood on his veins freezes as he listens to that man and how he put his wife’s life in danger without remorse. As if your life is worth nothing, as if you didn’t have someone to defend you.

“Are ya fuckin’ crazy?” Daryl talks with a low, yet angry voice. “Ya jus’ dared to put in risk ma wife’s life jus’ ‘cause ya think she can handle a group of saviors?”

“You two told Ezekiel that anything had to be done to stop the saviors.”

Again, even when he has the chance, Daryl uses all his strength to not shoot an arrow in Richard’s face, and he walks around Richard to take his things before leaving that place.

“No.”

“She’ll live. Listen… this is how this has to happen. This is how we will get rid of the saviors. You two stayed in the kingdom for a reason: to prove to Ezekiel we can kill the savior. Together. So we can all have a future.”

“No!” Daryl passes him by, walking away from him.

“If we don’t do something people are gonna die!” Richard walks towards him and Daryl faces him. “People who wants to live!”

“Get the hell away from ma wife, ya hear me?”

Daryl gets close to him, looking straight into his eyes. Richard backs away, but hearing the roar of the cars that approaches in the distance attracts his attention. Daryl drops his backpack off his shoulder and holds his crossbow, watching the saviors’ path toward them coming down the hill.

There, Richard looks at Daryl.

“It’s them. We can wait for things to go bad, lose people, or we can do the hard thing…” He glances back at the saviors for a few seconds before looking at Daryl again. “Or choose our fates for ourselves.”

“No.”

Richard shrugs.

“Sorry.”

He turns around to carry out his plan with or without Daryl’s help, but Daryl drops his crossbow and takes Richard by the collar of his t-shirt to push him to the ground. He tries to fight back, but Daryl holds him with his own arm close to Richard’s neck, to then punch him, over and over until a river of blood descends from his nose to cover part of his face. Richard whines taking a canteen next to his face and hit Daryl, falling onto a side as both crawl on the ground to take their weapons to aim at their faces when they get up.

Richard breathes through his parted and broken lips and nods towards the saviors.

“There will be more. Or they will come back later, and we will have another chance. But we are running out of time. Your people need the kingdom to beat the saviors… We have to make sacrifices in one way or another. Guys like us… we’ve already lost so much.”

Daryl sees in his eyes the sadness for his loss, but that would never justify taking the life of another person to win that fight, not that way.

“Ya don’t know me.”

“I know that (Y/N) is stronger than us.”

To Richard’s surprise, Daryl lowers his crossbow, but the fierce look in his eyes is enough to make Richard take a step back.

“I’ll tell ya this jus’ once: If ma wife gets hurt, she dies, she catches a fever, she gets taken out by a walker, she gets hit by lighting, anythin’ happens to her, I’ll kill ya. Even if she jus’ gets a small cut in ‘er body, I’ll kill ya. So from now on: don’t talk to 'er, don’t look at 'er, don’t breathe near 'er. Fuck, don't even think about 'er.”

Richard holds his breath, looking at Daryl straight in his eyes.

“I would die for the kingdom.”

Daryl looks back at him, without any fear but with boiling anger.

“Why don’t ya?”

And then, he takes his backpack, his crossbow, and Daryl leaves.

When you turn off the lamp on the night table of your room, the light of the night comes in softly through the closed window, and you lay down sideways on your side of the bed as Daryl covers you with the blanket.

“Ya won’t take your clothes off?” He asks as he hugs you from behind.

“No…” You lie. “I’m cold.”

“I can help ya with that.” He says softly and moves to get closer to you. His arm hold you against him, giving you part of his warm. “Don’t worry ‘bout anythin’. No one ain’t gonna hurt ya. We’ll leave this place in a few days.”

You hold his hand on yours, waiting for him to fall sleep.

The anxiety and the fear inside you become one within you as the minutes pass in a dead silence. But suddenly, the world around you seems like a lie because everything is as quiet as if there were no walkers on the other side of the big gates, as if Richard hadn’t tried to hurt you without any remorse. Daryl told you because you already knew that something was happening and because he wanted you to stop going to that open field to practice. He couldn’t protect you without telling the truth. However, what hurt you the most is thinking how a life could mean nothing in the hands of other people: as if they had any rights over it. But the truth hits you hard too; because you did the same thing the first time you defended yourself from someone who tried to kill you for your weapon.

That didn’t make you a killer, too? Then, the guilt falls on you, the harsh reality of a murderer who tries to justifies a murder, just as Richard tried to do, just as you did. Everyone there, good or bad people were doing the same thing. Killing. Taking lives away. And you realized you couldn’t be part of all that. Not because you were weak but because you didn’t want to be the survivor that sees its friends die. And what if you die in the middle of the battle? Dying and causing pain to others, was that worth it? Or to stay alive but live in a constant pain? That life was like playing Russian roulette: none of you knew who could die or live, but all had to play. No exception. But you couldn’t stay and do it, so that night, you left before the game started.

That same night, you leave your backpack on the small bed and look around the place in that cold lonely night. It is a two-bedroom cabin. It is old, small but cozy, much better than a bed in the kingdom. This was a place you found days ago without telling anybody, not even Daryl. And as you lay down there, you hope that is the last time you start a new beginning far from killing, far from the fear of losing people, even if you had just lost your husband.

In the very early morning, near the garden of the Kingdom, a commotion catches Morgan and King Ezekiel’s attention. They run to the group of people who gathers around a fight, but no one is able to stop a wild Daryl, who is over Richard, punching him over and over until Morgan takes him by the arms and pulls him out of Richard before he could kill him. Daryl gets up and breathes hardly through his parted lips, watching Richard still on the ground and unable to move, or breathe.

“What is happening?!” Ezekiel asks, holding Richard and looking around. “Walk away, people. There is a lot to do today.”

The people listen, and Ezekiel glances at Daryl.

“Tell me right now why you did this.”

“That piece of shit did somethin’ to ma wife. She left!” Daryl is about to fall over Richard again, but Morgan holds him back. “I told him to stay away from ‘er!”

Ezekiel gets up leaving Richard on the ground, too weak to get himself up.

“What did Richard do to (Y/N)?”

Daryl looks at Ezekiel, not wanting to say what happened.

“Let him tell ya, I’ll go find ma wife.”

Daryl takes his crossbow from the ground and walks away with big steps towards the gates. Behind him, Morgan is following him.

“Daryl… Did (Y/N) leave a note?”

But he doesn’t stop.

“She wanted to get away from this fight. She doesn’t wanna see 'er friends being killed.”

“Because she knows that some of us could die.”

Daryl hates the way Morgan talks, like if Daryl didn’t understand that could happen. So, he turns around, giving Morgan a threatening look.

“Don’t talk to me like I was a damn child. Killin’ the saviors is the only way for me to make sure ma wife and friends will have a safe life.”

“Even if someone dies in the process?”

But Daryl doesn’t answer, and he yells at the man in charge of the gates to open it up. He walks out, completely sure he would find you sooner or later.

During a silent and almost deafening sunset, you walk through the forest near your house, with the quiver on your back and the bow in your hand, looking for some animal to eat. Everything is as it should be in the forest, everything there belongs to its place. Except you. But still listening to the birds sing in the long distance, you make your way until you find a squirrel that moves from here to there on the branch of a tree. You pull an arrow from the quiver; you connect it to the bow and lift it to the correct height close to your face, holding the air in your lungs. However, as a sudden sadness covers you because you couldn’t stop killing, another arrow flies close to you and sinks into the animal’s body.

You gasp in acknowledgment, so you turn around to see Daryl walking close to you, with your heart beating fast against your chest. He stops in front of you, looking at you through his head slightly down, just like he did when he was sad. He did that just with you, because just with you he was able to show how he truly felt, without feeling ashamed of feeling weak.

“This is the moment when you ask me why the hell I left you.” You say through the knot in your throat, but he just shakes his head softly.

“This is the moment when I say I missed ya.” He approaches you, almost afraid as if you are not real, and he puts his arms around you to embrace your waist, hiding his face in your neck, at the same time that you let go of the bow to feel him close to you. “I missed ya.”

As you sit down in your little bed, kicking your black boots off, Daryl leaves his backpack on the table in the middle of the room and looks inside for something. But before you know what it is, he throws it at you and you catch it perfectly. It is a peach, because he knows how much you like them. As you clean it against your clothes, Daryl sits in the chair that gives him a perfect view of you, resting his elbow against the wood, holding his chin in his hand.

“Explain it to me ‘cause I don’t get it.” He makes a gesture with his hand to point around the place. “I said I would protect ya. We were ‘bout to leave that place. But ya just walked away in the middle of the night… Why?”

His voice fill with disappointment pierces your ears, but you try to gather your ideas so that he understands your reasons.

“I’m tired. I’m afraid. And I don’t wanna see any of our friends being killed…and I realized I can’t neither. It’s too much to handle. I can kill, like, a person, and that’s what really scares me. I know they killed our friends, but this revenge, or justice, or whatever you want to call it: it will only endanger our people, and we will see more blood. And then we will have nightmares about their deaths, and we will not know what is worse: if sleep only to have nightmares about their deaths, or live awake in this real-life nightmare. I know I’m being selfish because they are willing to fight, but I can’t lose you or them.” You feel the tears in your eyes, but you rub your face with your hands to not let them fall right now. “I don’t want to be around if that happens.”

Daryl looks at you, rubbing his finger against his lip, trying to contain his own anger. He didn’t want to act like he used to, he didn’t want to yell at you for leaving him just the way you did. But that was hard for him too, it was too painful, almost impossible to bear the days he was without you, thinking that something bad could have happened to you because he couldn’t protect you. But right there, in front of you, he wants to tell you how scared he was when he didn’t find you by his side that morning, and that he couldn’t sleep the days after that.

“So what?” He says with a raspy voice. “What ‘bout me? I’m yer husband. Did ya think I’d jus’ sit there and do nothin’? That I would jus’ let ya get away from me? That was yer plan? Make me love ya and then leave me?”

Daryl was the strongest man, but the weakest too when it was about you. And you knew, that in that world or in the previous one, love was still a dangerous feeling, sometimes even more dangerous than a walker.

“That’s not true, Daryl: you know it.”

He laughs harshly.

“I realized I don’t know anythin’ about the woman I’m married to.”

“Ouch… That hurts.” You chuckle tiredly, then sighing until you found the right words. “I think it would be better if you get angry with me, if you kick the chair and tell me what I did wrong.”

Daryl takes a deep breath, trying to calm his wild heart.

“Nah. Ya are here with me now.” But, suddenly, he stands up, taking off his vest in his way to you, his gaze locked on yours as he begins to unbutton his shirt next. “But I think I need ya to learn your lesson in a different way.”

Your mouth is dry, and your own heart begins to beat at an alarming pace.

“Daryl… what are you doing?”

As he reaches the edge of the bed, he tosses his shirt aside, while, with the gentleness that didn’t usually characterize him on the outside, his thumb caresses your soft cheek, a warm contrast to his finger.

“Have ya ever been scared of me?”

Though he’s referring to that situation happening now in particular, you know he’s asking in general as well, if, perhaps, at some point in your marriage, you’ve seen him through different eyes. Perhaps with a fear reflected in them, a silent fear that would be overwhelming for him. But you shake your head, your gentle gaze on his ocean-colored eyes.

Daryl was a tender lover behind his tough appearance, and you were never scared, not by him.

“No. You know damn well I have not.”

“Not even once?”

His own doubt makes you smile a little bit.

“Not even once, Dixon, I know well you have a soft spot for me.”

“Hell yeah, woman, n’ only for ya.” He says, so serious like never before. “So if that’s true, lay down n’ lemme show ya how damn much I missed ya.”

You do as he tells you, your gaze on the wooden roof, feeling the knot in your stomach traveling to your lower part as he unbuttons and unzips your black jeans. It's torturously slow, but you know he's doing it as part of the lesson, because he's never denied you pleasure before. Since your marriage began, he was always a giver, taking your own pleasure as his own. It was like a rule for him to give you all the pleasure, and then give you a little more.

But when he removes all your clothes and his breath and his beard tickle your most sensitive area, your hands look blindly something to hold yourself onto, his long hair maybe, but he just pushes your hands away.

“No touchin’.” He says, dangerously low.

However, when his strong hands cling to your hips, his mouth sinking into you, you let out a tight gasp, your knees bending up. But the way he is moving against you as you move against him, too, makes him feel so needy for you, like he is in a beautiful hell. Your hands still in the air closed almost painfully, eyes closing too, arching your back, and mouth falling finally open.

“Daryl, wait–”

“Shut it.” He warns you, keeping his warm mouth close to your entrance. “Fuck, why ya always taste so damn good? Makes me wanna live in between your legs all the fuckin’ time.”

He wasn’t normally a very talkative person, but when Daryl was on the right mood he loved saying things that he knew would turn you on, leading you to the edge of being out of breath. He loved playing with you like he does again, his mouth kissing and licking and sucking, fingers holding onto the bones on your waist. The angry animal inside him woke up when you moan with open lips, sending a painful throbbing to the hardness in his pants.

He sucks hard on you, making you shake against him, holding yourself onto the blanket even when you want to hold his hair. But feeling you so needy for him, and only for him makes him feel about to explode, but he stops himself from lower one of his hand to his pants to stroke his manhood.

Daryl starts to feeling you moving against his face, and he takes pride that he could make you cum without being inside you, yet, because he’s not going to let you do that, hell no. No matter how much he enjoyed torturing you that way, he is ready to give you so much pleasure you wouldn’t think ever again about leaving him, no when he couldn’t live without you anymore.

So Daryl stands up, removing his hands from your body, giving you the time to catch some air as he unbuckles his belt, like the most erotic image in the world. His strong and naked chest rises and falls as he locks eyes with you, his mouth in a tight line as he removes his belt, not ready to smile even a little to you as you bite your own lips, hiding a smile.

“I will never be scared of you, but it scares me a little bit what is coming.”

He is kind of angry, but not with you, but with the idea of being a little bit animalistic, like to roll over onto your knees so he could hold himself on your hips, maybe even on your hair, pulling it just a little like he has done a few times when you two were getting playful.

“Ya should be.” He says, so low and dangerous as he unbuttons his pants. “Now take the rest of yer clothes off.”

You swallow the lump in your throat, sitting back down to pull off your black t-shirt, with nothing underneath. The complete view of your now naked body is such a temptation for him, so much that he thinks he would give up soon. But no, he’s stronger than that.

“Now lay back down, n’ spread your legs open for me.”

Fuck. You think that couldn’t get any hotter, but you know it could with that look in his deep gaze, so you lick your dry lip and look back at him as he kicks his boots off, taking off his pants and his boxer next, while, still sitting, you try to look up only, even when there is a whole spectacle at the level of your own gaze.

“Should I call you sir while I do that?” You smile sweetly at him, playing innocent.

And for the first time in the night, Daryl smiles back.

“I’m yer fuckin’ husband, peach, the same person that’s gonna make love to ya, maybe that way ya won’t leave me ever again. Now do as I tell ya.”

Though you can hear the sadness in his words, his voice doesn’t waver, not when he’s so ready to do what he promised, so with nothing else on your mind, you lay back down on the bed, spreading your legs as an invitation that Daryl immediately takes. He lays on top of you, and you can almost feel his own heartbeat as he sinks into you with one hand, while the other arm holds him up too close to your face. You feel him throbbing inside of you, and he holds himself on his legs, his free hand looking for the softness of your face to hold you there, kissing you deeply.

Your own hands hold his lower back, and this time, he lets you touch him freely. The warm of your fingers is melting him, but when he starts to move, he drowns your moans and his tense grunts in a kiss. His calloused hand grasps your face with a firmness but a sweet touch, as if you are a piece of glass, the most precious in the world, in his world.

Daryl never felt so primitive and he is too drunk with lust, but there is something intense and so erotic in the idea that he could push himself deeper into you, and that you would take everything and even beg for more. So he does, he presses into you deeper, harder than ever but not in a painful way because hurting you wasn’t in his nature, but he is taking you to the very edge in no time. You called out his name against his mouth as he starts moving faster against you, making you feel the tension building up on your stomach and in between your legs, so hot like hell itself, as intense as the beginning of the orgasm that is about to hit you soon if he keeps moving that way.

But it feels different from other times, short but in a new kind of intense. His thumb caresses your check, his forehead resting on your just a moment before he buries his face in your neck, the same finger sliding over your bottom lip, and that little action is so hot. The sounds he starts making against your neck are an arousing melody, sounds he muffles against your hair on his own path to much-needed release.

Your hands hold his lower back even harder, pulling him against you, your mouth against his shoulder, drowning out the forbidden sounds that come from between your lips, the view of the world fading as you close your eyes while letting out a hot cry as he makes you cum.

Finally, Daryl spills himself inside you, breathing through parted lips as he catches his breath.

After a long minute, or maybe two and when you can breathe again, you speak softly.

“I’m sorry, I never wanted to leave you alone, or make you think that I don't love you.”

Daryl raises his head, getting lost in the way you ask for his forgiveness with your eyes, too. But in that moment, he knows everything will be alright.

“So ya won’t leave me again?” He asks softly, but, too deep in your own sadness to speak properly, you just shake your head. “Good. ‘Cause ya got to know I’ll chase ya to the end of the fuckin’ world, burnin’ everythin' on ma way ‘till I find ya.”

#daryl dixon imagine #daryl dixon x reader #daryl x y/n #daryl dixon twd #daryl dixon

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luvymelody · 9 months ago

Text

NAME : katsuki bakugou + shoto todoroki , boku no hero academia

SONG : moment , vierre cloud

SUMMARY : y/n l/n is the new girl in class 2-a. as the year goes by, todoroki and bakugou find out that they like the same person. wc : 2.2k

[you're here] [part 2] [part 3] [part 4]

(reader's quirk is angel. u have two wings in ur back)

(also i removed hagakure from the story 😭 SORRY i love her swear)

"hello, i'm y/n l/n. i hope we can all get along."

the winged girl smiled, then bowed deeply as the class admired her. she was pretty, and her wings were pretty.

"you can sit infront of him. bakugou, raise your hand."

bakugou lazily raised his hand a bit, she looked towards him, walking towards the empty seat in the front row. as she sat, she placed her bag under her table, tucking her wings into herself a bit to not bother the boy behind her.

he raised an eyebrow at her actions, rolling his eyes and slouching back into his seat.

"hi! i'm mina ashido!"

"oh hi!"

"i'm ochaco uraraka!"

"you can call me tsuyu."

the girls were crowding around the new girl as soon as the bell rang for break. the girls in the class were all making eye contact with each other during class and pointing fingers at each other of who would be the one to talk to y/n first.

"wanna sit with us for lunch? we'll tell you everything about our class!"

"yeah sure, that would be great."

y/n smiled at yaoyorozu as mina threw an arm around y/n's shoulder, pulling her up from her seat.

"man, the girls have already started talking to the new girl.."

kaminari said, looking at the group of girls with his arms crossed. he stood infront of kirishima and bakugou who were around bakugou's desk as he packed up his stuff.

"you can't deny, she's really cute."

kirishima murmured, leaning into kaminari a bit to quiet his voice but bakugou heard it anyway, ignoring it. kaminari nodded rapidly, you would think his head was going to fall off from how fast he was.

bakugou got up without saying anything, leaving the classroom while kaminari and kirishima yelled at him to wait.

the girls were waiting in the lunch line together, waiting patiently as uraraka brought her three guy friends to meet y/n.

"my name is tenya iida! i'm pleased to have you as a new classmate!"

iida put a hand out for y/n to shake, she grasped his hand, giving it a firm shake and a smile as she held onto his hand.

"pleased to meet you, iida."

iida matched her smile, letting go of their head and directing her attention to the boys next to him.

"i'm izuku midoriya, this is shoto todoroki!"

the green haired boy said, turning to the white and red haired boy as he looked up from his phone at y/n. he bowed a bit, putting his phone in his pocket.

"nice to meet you."

"nice to meet you too-"

"l/n- are you an actual angel? what else is apart of your quirk? can all of your feathers separate like the pro hero hawks? can you control all your feathers with free will? or-"

"geez midoriya, chill out!"

mina exclaimed, her hands going down on y/n's shoulders as y/n grinned, a bit of a nervous look on her face as her eyebrows furrowed. todoroki blinked at her facial features, he didn't really get to see it when she was infront of the class and he was at the back, but now, right infront of her, he can.

"you're very pretty, l/n."

the group went quiet, hearing the stoic heterochromic boy say such a bold statement.

"o-oh, thank you, todoroki.."

y/n blushed, turning red as mina nervously laughed, then pulled y/n away as they were at the front of the line to get food. todoroki cocked his head to the side in confusion.

"did i do something wrong?"

todoroki turned his head towards midoriya and iida who were partially embarrassed, red filling their faces.

"n-no, todoroki.."

the next day, y/n was walking to school as she looked down at her phone, scrolling and looking for a song to play.

"l/n."

y/n heard a voice behind her, turning to see her handsome classmate. yesterday, when he said she was pretty, she was going to say that he was handsome too, just to make him embarrassed, but his blank stare made her crumble, and blush.

"hi todoroki!"

y/n waved, stopping and waiting for todoroki to catch up as he slowly jogged up next to side, then she continued walking.

"do you live around this area?"

y/n questioned, playing a random playlist and turning off her phone, holding it in her hand.

"mhm. just down the road."

todoroki nodded, looking straight down the sidewalk as y/n looked up at the boy. but then something clicked in her head, she quickly looked at her phone, her eyes widening at the time.

"shit! we're gonna miss the train, todoroki!"

y/n blurted, gripping onto todoroki's wrist and starting to run towards the train station. todoroki watched her hair bounce with each step she was taking, holding onto his bag with his free hand to avoid his bag falling off his shoulder.

todoroki watched as the sunlight hit her hair just right, making her hair practically shine underneath the sun as y/n’s hold on his wrist slipped, going down to his hand as she grabbed onto his hand, holding it tight with a squeeze as she checked her phone again.

“todoroki! are you there-“

y/n turned her head while running, making eye contact with todoroki as he blinked, snapping out of his lovesick daze.

“yeah-“

todoroki lips parted, shutting tight as he squeezed her hand, starting to run alongside y/n as y/n smiled laughing next to todoroki as she closed her eyes, her head going down as laughter bubbled out her lips.

todoroki let a small smile slip from his lips, the corners of his mouth going up as he continued running down the street alongside y/n.

he would just have to tell his driver he could get to school on his own.

y/n and todoroki came into the classroom together, todoroki opening the door for the girl as she smiled and thanked him.

bakugou looked up from his seat, he was leaning back into his seat while kirishima, sero and kaminari were infront of him, standing and talking to each other while letting bakugou pipe into the conversation from time to time.

“yo, should i ask for l/n’s number?”

“no bro- didn’t you see todoroki and l/n walk in together? pretty girls and pretty boys always get together.”

“are you saying i’m ugly-!?”

“hey, sir’s waiting.”

bakugou said, making the three look at him and look back at aizawa who was glaring at them, his eyes turning red and his hair floating up as they bowed in embarrassment, hurrying to their seats.

when they finally left from bakugou’s view, he could see y/n clearly infront of him, well, the back of her, and her wings.

bakugou thought they were big for no reason. could she even fly?

“team bakugou and l/n, you’re up!”

the class had a training exercise with a random partner, bakugou made no comment out loud of the new kid being his partner but, his thoughts were screaming.

‘are you kidding me? pretty girl is my partner?’

bakugou yelled in his head as y/n ran up to him, slowing down to walk next to him.

“hey! you’re bakugou, right?”

“yea.”

“oh okay! how do you wanna do this-?”

“just don’t get in my way, i’ll probably do all the work anyway.”

bakugou said bluntly, walking faster to avoid y/n as y/n’s face became blank, blinking at the boy who was walking away faster. she squinted her eyes at him, smiling.

there were multiple clones of ectoplasm and y/n and bakugou were surrounded.

“i told you not to get in my way!”

bakugou yelled, explosions sparking from his palms. y/n looked down as she clenched her forearm, a white energy surging through her arm.

“i didn’t even do anything! with you running away from me!”

“because you would get in my way!”

“just stop yelling for a sec, your throat-!”

y/n cut herself off as she flapped her wings and the clones on her side turned to liquid clones. bakugou whipping his head at her side to look and see no one, y/n gone and the clones gone.

“angel!”

bakugou called out, looking up to see y/n in the air, jumping down in the centre of the clones on bakugou’s side, slamming her fist down on the ground as the ground crumbled, making the clones fling into the air as bakugou put his hands down towards the ground, shooting himself up as he exploded all of the clones.

y/n stood up on the ground, bakugou dropped down infront of her. y/n quirked her eyebrow up,

“are you gonna yell at me? sorry if i was in your way-“

“sorry for the way i was acting.”

bakugou grumbled, it was so, out of character of himself. he didn’t even know what he was doing. y/n’s eyes widened, feeling a tad bit bad for the way she was yelling, but to be fair, he was yelling louder before.

“oh! it’s cool- sorry i yelled back at you.”

y/n admitted, her eyebrows furrowed but a smile on her face as bakugou’s eye trailed down towards her parted lips.

“let’s go back.”

“oh right!”

y/n exclaimed, turning and starting to walk as bakugou admired her back, her wings.

“bakugou?”

bakugou heard, fast walking to catch up with her, much unlike before when he was literally running away from her.

y/n walked beside todoroki, counting her money in focus to be sure she had enough for one of the dishes she wanted from the cafeteria. (pretend they pay for somethings idk)

the winged girl groaned out loud, his hands rubbing her eyes as her lips turned to a frown. todoroki looked at her in wonder, cocking his head to the side.

“what’s wrong?”

“i don’t have enough money for the cold soba..”

“do you like cold soba?”

todoroki’s eyes widened, wondering if the pretty girl liked one of his favourite foods, she lifted her hands away from her eyes, blinking at the boy.

“yeah.. i was really craving it today...”

“i’ll pay for you.”

todoroki said, starting to fast walk to the cafeteria to see y/n’s reaction to eating it as y/n stopped in shock, jogging to catch up with todoroki as her eyebrows furrowed and her lips opened,

"are you sure? thank you so much though.."

“it’s alright.”

todoroki said, in the line and already at the front, ordering two cold soba trays.

y/n stood behind him, a small smile of her face as she appreciated the kind offer that todoroki gave her- well, more like just buying her food.

the girl felt a nudge in her shoulder, turning her head to see bakugou with one hand holding his tray of food, the other in his pocket.

“come sit with me.”

bakugou said, looking away from y/n and straight at his table of friends who were laughing loudly far away. y/n turned to look at the group and where they were, while she was looking away, bakugou took the chance to glance down at y/n, seeing her long eyelashes as they fluttered open and shut, then turning to bakugou again as he quickly looked away.

“sorry,, i’m sitting with todoroki today!”

bakugou looked at the girl after scoffing loudly.

"you can stand one lunch away from that half-and-half bastard-"

"bakugou?"

bakugou and y/n turned towards todoroki, who was holding two trays of cold soba. bakugou raised an eyebrow at the dual coloured haired boy as todoroki narrowed his eyes towards him.

"l/n is going to be sitting with me. not you."

"i don't remember asking you, icy-hot."

"you didn't have to, i'm telling you."

"what do you say?!"

todoroki let out quick but calm remarks at the blonde boy but bakugou was glaring openly at todoroki, getting right up in todoroki's face as y/n's eyes whipped back and forth between the boys.

"guys!"

the two looked at her, stopping their argument.

"how about, we all sit together? i wanted to talk with mina today anyway!"

y/n grinned, turning and quickly walking towards the table that had mina, kirishima, sero, jirou and kaminari. jirou and mina seeing the girl and the two boys walking behind her, waving at her.

"hey y/n!"

"hi!"

"oh shit, hey l/n!"

"hi there!"

y/n sat in the free space next to mina, with a space for one more person to sit next to y/n.

"is it okay if i- i mean, todoroki and i sit with you guys?"

"no problem!"

sero said, showing a thumbs up towards the girl and a wink while kaminari was fist bumping the air in excitement.

todoroki was quicker than bakugou, sitting in the seat next to y/n as bakugou gritted his teeth slightly at the boy who was staring up at him- was that a tiny smirk on his face!?

bakugou dropped his tray on the table, already eating as y/n talked to todoroki about english homework. then she turned away, leaning over mina to talk to jirou who was next to her.

todoroki and bakugou made eye contact with each other as todoroki looked at the boy across from him on the table. bakugou narrowed his eyes, using his hand and sticking out his thumb as he dragged his thumb over his neck, pointing at todoroki.

todoroki just silently slurped his soba, glaring at bakugou.

this meant war.

#there will maybe be a part 2.#todobaku x reader #fem!reader #todoroki x reader #bakugou x reader #shoto x reader #female reader #bnha #mha bakugou #katsuki bakugo x reader #shoto todoroki x reader #mha todoroki #mha #todobaku

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zae-heeyyy · 6 months ago

Text

Valor

Summary: Arthur takes you on one of his adventures. Pairing: Arthur Morgan x female!Reader Word Count: 1,760 Trigger Warning: Animal attack, angry-ish Arthur, violence Tags: mid- high honor Arthur, damsel in destress, fluff, and angst

a/n: Hey y'all! It's been a while since I posted because life is crazy right now. This is a request from @littlemistey. I'm paraphrasing from our convo, "Arthur x reader where the reader is saved by Arthur from almost being mauled by a cougar or a pack of wolves." Sketches are copied/cut from Arthur's journal. A classic "Arthur Morgan, please save me" trope. Thanks for reading!

Valor: Great courage in the face of danger, especially in battle. It denotes bravery and heroism, particularly in challenging or risky situations.

The bones in your wrists ached with the numbing weight of boredom as another morning of chores lumbered on. In, around, under, off. In, around, under, off. In, around, under, off. Intertwined pieces of yarn grew longer at your feet as the knitting cadence played in your head. You'd zoned out, daydreaming of anything more exciting than this.

A rhythmic clank of guns on a belt alerted you to your approaching burly cowboy.

You would've been glad to see him any other time, but your contempt for your chores and an odd hat on his head made you groan with irritation. A lit cigarette sat snug between his lips as he talked, muffling his speech.

"Why you sittin' here with your lip stuck out?" he asked, adjusting his belt and sitting beside you on a wooden crate. He tossed the cigarette away, leaned over to kiss the temple of your head, and placed a hand on the small of your back.

"Bored outta my mind," you complained. The sun reflected off a shiny decorative piece on his hat, making you squint. "And why are you wearing that stupid hat?"

"What?" he opened his hands out questioningly with a goofy grin stretched across his face. "A man keeps this camp afloat, and he can't even wear a nice hat without his lady callin' it stupid."

You rolled your eyes and gestured to all the women in the camp, cleaning tables and guns, sewing, and helping with dinner.

"No, we keep this camp afloat while you men are out doing god knows what," you said, your stitches getting sloppier as your vexation grew. "I'm losing my mind here. Meanwhile, you come back with fancy trinkets, weird statues, emeralds, and crazy hats! You know, I think you do the robbing and hunting only sometimes, and when that's done, you're just out there playing around!"

You finally stopped knitting and turned to Arthur, whose playful grin had faltered into a thoughtful glance. You continued your monologue, "Ugh! I swear, if you don't get me outta here, I'm gonna stab Grimshaw through the eye with this needle!"

You held the sharp point inches away from Arthur's face, prompting him to snatch it from you. "Alright, easy there." He grabbed your hand in two of his gloved ones and glanced at it from under the brim of his hat, thinking for a long moment, "Fine, you can come with me long as nobody gets stabbed. Can't have a degenerate murderer loose in this camp, now, can we?"

Ignoring his sarcasm, you squealed excitedly and jumped up from your spot, pulling on Arthur's arm to make him stand, too.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you," you said between the many kisses you laid on him. He stilled you with firm hands on your waist and chuckled.

"I reckon it won't be as exciting as you think, but I can't say no to you."

Within a few minutes, you were ready to go, aiming and checking the ammo on a varmint rifle that Arthur had given you.

"Met a strange feller, Algernon Wasp. He's a— he has— well, he— he's an artist, I guess; he's paying me to collect some stuff for his, uh, creations. Bird feathers, orchids, that kind of stuff. Would be faster with the two of us."

And that's how you found yourself in the swamps of Lemoyne with the varmint rifle slung over your shoulder as you swatted away mosquitoes and sweated your ass off. You were hot, thirsty, and worst of all, you'd only found four of the seven cigar orchids you needed.

Mud squelched under your feet as you followed behind Arthur; you spoke exasperatedly, "how much is this fool paying you for all this?"

Arthur had gone quieter as you'd gotten more frustrated over the hours. Both of you were starting to regret this decision.

"I don't know. Money is money," he said dismissively, his head on a swivel and eyes focused. You were bothered that he could so easily spot plants and always knew which direction to go, expecting you to keep pace with his long strides when mud weighed down your skirts, slowing you down. You knew it was irrational, but you were mad at him for dragging you out here despite your near begging.

The heat was getting to you, and you'd lost control of the filter from your brain to your mouth. Arthur was a few feet ahead when you started your mumbling, "goddamn swamps is no place for a lady. Gators, mud, bugs and—" You didn't get to finish your sentence before Arthur spun and made two giant steps toward you, jaw clenched.

"You got something to say?"

You crossed your arms, defiant. Arthur's reputation as a vicious intimidator didn't phase you, though. He wouldn't lay a finger on you; you both knew it. You rolled your eyes and said, "this is as boring as being back at camp, except I'm all dirty now."

He stepped closer into your space, his angry eyes searching yours. He spoke in a low volume that would scare anybody but you: "This is what you wanted, woman, so don't go gettin' mad at me because things ain't all neat and proper."

Were you frightened by him? No. Were your feelings hurt? Yes. You scoffed and nodded slowly while you spoke, "You're right. I'm gonna head to camp. I'll see you when you get back."

You didn't give him the chance to respond before you trudged in the other direction, clicking for your horse waiting nearby. Arthur watched you go until he lost sight of you in the overgrown vegetation.

Then you were on the road, your horse at a trot, when something in his line of vision spooked him. Before you could even react, you were bucked off, your head hitting the ground with a thud. Despite the pain, you knew better than to just lay there. Gators and snakes were everywhere, but only something notably terrifying would scare off your Andalusian. You took the rifle off your back, pointing it aimlessly all around, trying to focus your spinning vision on the threat beyond.

Before you could blink, a big cat took hold of your leg through your skirt. You shot wildly once, twice, then three times before the beast let go of you. Screaming at the top of your lungs, you scrambled backward as more bullets rang out from your low-caliber weapon. Hoping and praying, you squeezed the trigger one last time. Eyes closed, you prepared for the inevitable when a louder shot rang out somewhere near you.

When pain and death didn't come, you opened your eyes to see Arthur standing over you, concern distorting his face. Beads of sweat ran down his forehead, and he huffed, trying to catch his breath. His hands scoured every inch of you, searching for signs of bleeding. Panic started to set in again when you realized you couldn't feel anything; you held your breath as Arthur pulled up the hem of your dress, bracing for the worst.

You breathed a sigh of relief and let your head fall back onto the ground. The puncture was minor, no worse than a needle prick. Arthur stood, using his arm to wipe away the perspiration that had soaked him. Then his anger started up again.

"Can't go getting hurt like that, girl. Shouldn't've let you run off by yourself. If something happened to you, I'd—"

"Shut up, Arthur," you rose back up and tried to smile through your unease. "I'm fine, thanks to you."

He held out a hand to pull you back to your feet, then wrapped his arms around you tight. His heart hammered against his chest, and you could hear your blood rushing through your ears. Then you finally let yourself cry in the safety of all his bulk.

"I'm sorry, sweet girl; I'm sorry." Every shakey inhale, sob, and gasp from you ripped him apart from the inside out. He was supposed to be looking after you, always, but his hardheadedness and pride left you vulnerable. Killing was the one thing he knew he was good for, and to almost fail at the cost of your life made his insides rot with guilt.

He peeled you away from his chest and cupped your face, "I won't let anything else happen to you, ya' hear?" You nodded, and he wiped dirt and tears away from your cheek with a big thumb and brought you back into him, stroking the back of your head. After a long moment, he retrieved your horse, helped you, and then rode beside you the whole way back to camp.

The next day, you gladly did your chores while Arthur went on his adventures. You didn't complain in the comfort and safety of a shade tree and other skilled gunmen. You were sitting in his tent when Arthur returned in the evening, now wearing his regular gambler's hat and carrying another adorned with floral designs and a peacock feather.

He greeted you with a peck on your cheek, joined you on the cot, and talked through a crooked smile, "found the rest of those orchids today and gave 'em to Algernon. Took this instead of the money. Think he was happier with that trade, anyway."

The closer you looked at the beautiful monstrosity, the more you had to fight off your reaction. It was undeniably unique, but you couldn't image anyone wearing it seriously.

"It's um—," You covered your mouth to stifle your giggle, but your quaking shoulders gave you away. To your relief, Arthur joined in your laugh and placed the hat atop your head.

"He tried to give it to me, made me try it on, but I figured it'd look better on you. Now we both got a crazy hat."

The idea of Arthur standing in front of a mirror in the hat with all his hardened features made you throw your head back in near hysterics.

"Well, I will cherish that image and this hat forever. Thank you." Arthur's face softened as your amusement died down, then morphed into a lamentable combination of worry and self-loathing. You recognized it all too well.

He stroked your face with the back of his hand and spoke in a hushed tone, "I'm sorry, again, for letting you go off by yourself like that. I—"

You silenced him with your lips, pushing him onto his back and mounting him. Your new hat fell away along with his worry as you showed him just how appreciative you were.

#zaefic #red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 #arthur morgan #rdr2 arthur #rdr2 community #arthur morgan x female reader #arthur morgan fanfiction #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan fic #arthur morgan fluff #arthur morgan angst #arthur morgan please save me #amje

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