#i yam all ears

[rigorousdoor21]

i plan to rig him and make his face look better. but im so enthralled with this lol

[chrollogy]

🌞✨☄🌸💫

YAMS YAMS YAMS OMGEEE did you know you’re the sweetest ever? ilysm and i hope you know that !! feel free to chat me up even if its just via ask ! i’m always down to talk and discuss about things :3

— tell me how you feel about me on anon!

[oatmealthighs]

bigbro!choso x blackfem!babysitter!reader

ᯓ ᡣ𐭩 contents: nsfw 18+, MDNI. overstimulation, rough sex, mutual pining, breeding kink, masturbation. i guess a lil stalking? choso's last name is itadori, yuji is a lil one, reader is black-coded and depicted to be a bit thick. but yea gets pretty nasty. minors gtf back

ᯓ ᡣ𐭩 author's note: yea this is a bit more self-indulgent than i'd like to admit.... but nonetheless! i still hope yall like it! inspired by this work of art

“so you're the new babysitter, huh?”

his voice was so deep. it rumbled through your every limb, made every hair prick up against your melanated skin. your throat went dry as you looked up at the man so casually leaning against the doorframe to his quaint, humble home, towering over you as he observed you almost menacingly.

as choso itadori looked down at you with indifferent eyes, you couldn't stop your own from scouring, observing the way the black tee he had on was tight in all the right places, hugging and squeezing at his muscular biceps and clinging to his formed chest. his brown hair was tied up, spiky locks in two ponytails. black jewelry adorned his ears all the way up to the helix.

you felt small, under investigation as his dark orbs intensely pierced through your own. but you didn't waver, it was never in your nature to showcase your uncertainty. instead you smiled, glossed lips parting to show your pretty teeth. “yep, that's me! my name is [name].” of course choso already knew that, and maybe a bit more that he didn't plan on sharing with you. he had no shame when it came to investigating who he was entrusting the care of his baby brother to, yuji being his heart and rib, the only family he had left on this entire planet. he'd die for him, kill for him, do worse if it came down to it. but with you, all that extra shit didn't seem necessary to make clear.

choso knew you looked good from your instagram he managed to find after some digging, but your posts didn't capture the true, full essence of your beauty. the camera didn't necessarily capture the way your brown skin glowed and shimmered in light, or accentuate your curves like how they looked now. you smelled sweet, like yams and vanilla. the magenta yoga set you wore clung to your skin tantalizingly, outlining your curvy silhouette and the top zipped down just a little low to show a little cleavage. your hair was styled* into a neat bob, bluntly cut just above your shoulders, not a single hair out of place. your lips were lined a dark coffee brown and ombré’d into the pink natural color of your skin, coated with sparkly gloss. your large glasses sat on the bridge of your wide nose, a french-tipped nail pushing them higher up. choso continued to feign disinterest, but he knew the darkening scarlet brushing over the tips of his ears might be what would give him away if you took any notice.

luckily enough, your attention was drawn elsewhere, the sound of toddler yuji cooing as he waddled through the living room towards the front door making your eyes widen with adoration. you kneeled down to his height, yuji’s big brown eyes finding yours and him sending you a gummy smile. “and this must be yuji! ohh, you’re the cutest thing! making my heart swell.”

choso needed you for a short while, just until he could find a new daycare for his little brother. between him working over forty hours a week and using the weekends to focus on bonding with yuji and resting up, he never really had the time. or more-so, seeing how well yuji gravitated to you, how he began asking about you by just saying your name during bath time, how he always cried when you left, was what made it drop lower and lower on his priority list.

you were much more help than he expected you to be, and did far more than what he was paying you to do, which resulted in the extra hundred dollar bills he would sneak into your cherry coach bag every evening. it was the least he could do: you made meals, helped clean, always put yuji down to bed before you left. even did the laundry as needed. you insisted it was okay when choso told you you didn't have to bother yourself with tasks that weren't in the job description, and that you didn't want or expect anything extra out of it. but you stopped fighting against his generosity… not that there was ever a struggle.

some nights required choso to stay later, long past his typical return time of six o’clock, and some nights he wouldn’t return until 2am. he would come in from a particularly tiresome day at the hospital in his his grey scrubs and his hair pulled into a low ponytail. he would never be surprised to find you laying on the large sectional sofa, glasses still on but your bonnet tied tight around your head, under one of the extra blankets with your phone replaying a tiktok. choso always had the guest bedroom prepared for you but it was always all for naught, as the couch seemed to be your preferred place of choice. it was so soft, it had to be well over a thousand bucks. he never disturbed you, you deserved your sleep. at most, he’d shut your phone off and turn down the tv, and head upstairs to shower and prep for bed himself. he’d often hear you leave the house later that night or early in the morning.

choso was the strong, silent type most of the time. he was an action-driven man– if he didn’t say it he would show you. you knew he liked you for his baby brother when he asked how did you feel about hanging around yuji for a bit longer than anticipated one evening while you were just about to leave out for the day. or when he would sneak those crisply folded blue bills into your bag. you wondered what he did for work one day, and you asked him. he was an anesthesiologist, he said. and you knew he was rolling in the money then.

there were no signs of a woman in his life from what you’ve seen. no feminine hygiene products in the bathroom, no pictures, no particular scent aside from your own aroma of sweetness. no mentions of a “she”... not that you’ve ever talked about it. you wanted to pop the question, but you didn’t want to weird him out- you opted to just “keep things professional.” but shit, it was hard sometimes. choso was a nice-looking man, with a height of 6’3”, a hard, muscular build, and dark eyes that made you shudder when he looked down upon you with them. sometimes he would come home after a vigorous work-out at the gym if he had the pleasure of getting off on time, wearing a black underarmour compression shirt that would be so damn tight you’d see every sculpt and cut of his meticulously defined upper body. his hair would be down, brown tresses clinging to his strong neck, thick eyebrows knitted together at the feeling of sweat and perspiration sticking to his skin and his growing need to shower. you would be in the kitchen, just cleaning up since you wrapped dinner up not too long ago, and the smell would make his stomach borderline roar at him. he’d shower, then come back in a tee and grey sweatpants, damp hair hanging as he sat at the table and basically ripped apart whatever you had prepared for him.

sometimes, you’d be in a rush to go home. not because choso would make you uncomfortable or anything. never that… but you knew your body. you knew that warm pool of heat in between your legs meant nothing but trouble, and was something that needed to be handled, preferably asap. you’d rush into your little apartment, make a beeline to your bedroom and strip down to your bare skin before jumping into your silk pink sheets. you’d grab your vibrator and press it to your clit desperately, pussy squeezing around nothing as you threw your head back against the soft pillows. you’d pinch your brown nipple, bottom lip trapped in between your teeth as you moved your vibrator in small little circles. more and more, you’ve began imagining choso in between your legs, his large hands parting your thick thighs like the red sea as he ate you out, his tongue lashing at your clit and slurping up your honey like a man parched. you imagined him pinning you against a wall with those brawny arms of his, knees pressed to your chest as he pounded you, burying himself to the hilt as your pussy squeezed his thick, long dick like a vice. it would be so nasty… you could only imagine the way you’d be cumming around him, how he’d make you cream and release until you’re ran dry.

sometimes when you finish, you’ll feel ashamed, throwing your vibrator to the end of the bed as you squeezed your legs together and hid under the comforter with embarrassment. other times… not so much. the fire would still be stirring and burning within you, begging for something more, for you to truly be filled. there were times you were a smidgen too close to calling up one of your old flings, just to fulfill your desire of being stretched out once again and to just imagine the man over you was your employer instead.

your feelings didn’t go completely unrequited.

choso held his tongue for the greater good of professionalism and your comfortability, but he’d be lying if he said he didn’t contemplate asking you to dinner a few times. from what he’s seen and observed on your insta, you didn’t have a special somebody. and he figured it would never hurt to ask. but choso was careful. he often opted to just not say anything.

he felt his gazes getting longer, his eyes moving more risky every time he’d see you moving about in his home working. he picked up that you really liked two piece sets, especially the ones made of sculpting spandex that always clung to your body almost provocatively. the way your ass sat in them, he was almost embarrased to say he dreamed about grabbing a handful of it, palming one of your cheeks with his entire hand. your glossed lips always caught his attention. he often thought about how it would look smudged on his skin, smeared across his own lips after tonguing you down.

your smell lingered. on the furniture, in the blankets, hung in the air. it was embarrassing how the scent of shea butter and vanilla was enough alone to make his dick stiff. it’s been so long since he’s rubbed one out. and he was doing a good job until you came along. he wasn’t proud to admit the amount of times he’s touched himself to you, his hips rolling his dick up into the clenched palm of his hand, soft squelching sounds filling his master bedroom. he’d imagine how you’d ride him, slamming your hips down against his own, your ass flush against his skin as you moan sweet nothings into his ear while he tried his damnedest to not nut in you.

the tension was growing thick. it could be sliced with a chainsaw at this point. but the both of you both opted to play it safe. until it spilled over… and it was bound to happen.

and it did.

"ouuuu, shit, choso!" the way that man was absolutely drilling you from behind was almost criminal, the deafening sound of his hips cracking against your fat ass echoing throughout the sound of the living room as he was trying his best to fuck you through the couch he had you drooling on.

you really don't know how you got here. well... you do. after all, this was the day you've been plotting and hoping on the moment you first seen choso's fine ass leaning against his doorway. it was like a dream come true, watching the way he deliciously hovered over you like predator over prey, his silky brown tresses draping around his sharp facial structure and his silver chain dangling, swinging in cadence with his hard, deep thrusts.

the two of you were just watching a movie, mr. & mrs. smith to be exact, courtesy of the invitation he extended earlier that night when you put yuji down for bed. an opportunity to "get better acquainted" over wine, gourmet chips, chocolates and a good action-romance.

"i see the way you look at me," you had stated boldly as you sipped your third glass of wine, the pillar to your sudden courage. "i know you notice how i look at you, too."

choso was sprawled out on the couch, legs spread and his arms thrown over the top. his head rested in one of his big hands, gazing at you through heavy-lidded eyes. he's silent for a moment as he looks at you so intently, his orbs filled with need, before he finally diverts his gaze to the tv. "yeah."

you look at the tv for a bit, not interested at all actually, but feigning it as you finished your glass. it was silent for a bit, albeit the sound of gunfire and car collisions booming through the in-home sound system, before choso speaks, "you can sit closer."

your scooting closer somehow led to you sitting in his lap, which led to a passionate, sloppy makeout session involving you straddling his firm thighs and his big hands gripping your entire ass in his palms as your tongue dived into his mouth. and all that led to him softly laying you on to the couch cushions, your lips never leaving each other's.

his lips are as soft as they look, yet leave scorching flames of desire in their wake as he litters passionate kisses all over your jugular and chest. he buries his nose into your skin, almost moaning at how sweet you smell and taste. as he continues to trace his name on your skin with his tongue, his fingers find the zipper to your purple yoga jacket, his eyes peering at up at yours through his thick lashes to ensure he has your approval.

you nodded your head gently.

choso made it his mission to show you he had much more to offer than some blue bills to you. you never depicted or predicted the guy to be an eater. but oh, were you pleasantly surprised.

that man can eat some pussy... and he does it like he gets paid to do it. he had you spread out like you were his dinner, and you were, your legs wide apart, knees bent. he sat on his haunches on the carpeted floor before you, spreading your lips apart and sloppily sucking at your clit that throbbed eagerly against his lips. he'd dip his head down, lapping up any of your leaking wetness before making out with your pussy yet again, his eyes trained on you and watching intently as your pretty face contorted into expressions of pleasure.

he'd make you cum all in his mouth, encouraging you to do so, never letting up as your thighs shook and vibrated, your eyebrows pushing together and your eyes fluttering shut as the bright hot warmth of your well-awaited orgasm overtook you, leaving you gasping for air. his compliments, "good girl," and "you taste so fucking good" would just get you all riled up again. choso came in his pants too, his ear tips bright red as he made it his duty to lick up all of your sweet nectar, but he kept that to himself.

that's not the only way he wants you though. he'll sit on his bottom on the floor next, his head resting against the couch, requesting for you to sit on his face. "what? choso, no, i'd crush you."

he'll take that as an insult of course. he benches twice your weight, easily. a little extra plush on the thighs wouldn't kill him, in fact, he'd love it ten times more. you'd saddle up, hesitantly brushing your pussy against his lips, and he'd look up at you, unimpressed.

"whaat?" you feign confusion, in reality, a bit shy and nervous at the thought of putting your weight on him.

"sit."

his words made every hair stand at attention against your skin, sending a shiver down your spine. you bite your lip, your gloss long smeared off and all over his pale skin. you bring your weight down on him a bit more.

"all the way." fuck.

you do as you're told, and a deep moan of satisfaction rolls through him, his tongue already dipping into your dripping folds. and before you could even think about letting up, his strong arms are locked around your thick thighs.

he'd have you writhing in his grip, going insane at the way his tongue wrote love letters in cursive against your clit. he'd be damn near drowning in your release, your cum slicking and dribbling against his chin as you rolled your hips back and forth against his soft lips. you were chanting his name like a mantra, and it was a beautiful melody to his ears.

and lo and behold, that's how you ended up on a first class flight to poundtown, your eyes stuck in the back of your head and your manicured nails digging into the arm of the couch for personal brace as his huge dick kept brushing up against that soft spot of yours and his girth stretched you so damn good. you knew you were making a mess- you done squirted twice already, your juices rivering down the insides of your thighs and seeping into the soaked couch cushion below you. "fuck, please don't stop!"

"yeah?" choso breathes over you, his cheeks flushed pink from his endurance. you knew he wasn't slowing down no time soon... he told you about his daily four mile runs. his pupils were blown wide as he watched the way you managed to still throw it back at him, stilling his hips as he watched your hungry pussy swallow his length every time your ass sat plush on his lower stomach. "you like that shit?" his calloused palm smacked against your ass unforgivingly, the fiery sting setting you ablaze. he did it again, one more time for good measure.

you were losing it, moaning exasperatedly into the couch fabric as you gave him everything you got, tossing your ass back against him, trying to match the impact he was winding you with just a second ago. "yess, fuck yess," you whine. you reach your hand back, your nails clawing at his shirt and yanking it in a ball. "please, choso, keep fucking me like that."

"what, like this?" his large hands were at your lovehandles, squeezing the flesh there as his resumed his relentless rythym, his eyebrows pinching at the way you squeezed around him like a vice. you let out a wail, your cream decorating his veiny shaft, and he relished in the feeling, a deep groan of satisfaction bubbling from his throat. "shit, you just keep cumming.... what is this, your fourth time?"

actually your sixth, but you weren't gonna correct him. if there was anything you knew, you wanted more. the way the veins of his dick dragged against your walls was a wonderful, irreplicable feeling, his balls slapping your clit with each profound stroke. his thick fingers found your hair, tangling his hand in your locks and giving them a courteous yank, making your back cave and arch deeper as you let out a yelp of pleasure. any other time, you'd for sure cuss him out... but his dick touching your soul was plenty good of a distraction. besides, you knew your hair was long sweated out anyway.

he was gonna give you some money for a new hairstyle anyway. he was good for making up for it.

choso feels himself teetering against the edge, between the sounds of your disgusting squelching and the mess you left on him and his couch, your pussy still begging for more as it and all its sloppiness still squeezed him whole, and your pretty keens and gasps bouncing around the room, it was almost too much. he felt like he was losing it, the hearts in his eyes palpitating as both of his hands held your jaw from behind. "the fuck are you doing to me..." he mutters aloud, his eyebrows furrowed as you eagerly sucked on his thumbs with a slutty moan.

"you know, yuji gets lonely sometimes," he whispers, slowing his thrusts and leaning forward to crush you with his weight, his dick bottoming out and making you let out a cry as your eyes snapped wide open. he rolls his hips more sensually as he licks at the back of your nape, the cool metal of his chain brushing the skin of your back and making you shiver. his lips trail to your ear, tongue lolling out at the shell as he continues, "i'm sure he wouldn't mind a friend. you'd like that wouldn't you? for me to fuck you full until i got nothing left, huh? you gonna drain me of all i got?"

you nodded your head desperately as you hummed a whiny "mmhm", turning your head to the side as you watched in awe as the man over you was spilling over the edge. "yes, i'd love it, cho, give it to me... please?"

choso hums in satisfaction, his heart thrumming against his ribcage as your words made butterfly cocoons hatch in his stomach and his dick stiffer than ever before. "yeah..." he slams into you, winding you with power and force that insinuated that he hated you, but he'd only make such a dangerous, promising offer to someone he truly liked. let alone anyone at all. "i know you would. you're nasty as fuck."

you didn't know if you were to be terrified or turned on, but the way your core pulsated around him let you know you were the latter. he let out a breathy moan at your physical response, but it didn't stop him. not even for a second.

he wasn't letting up. you weren't getting any breaks. the way you would be teasing him wearing those tight ass clothes and smelling like you wanted him to eat you alive. nah. he was giving you everything you ever dreamed about, everything you imagined when you'd resort to using your little vibrator between your legs.

and you loved every fucking second of it.

[yameoto]

knocked up omega cate whos so frustrated w you because you just woke up from a hangover and a night full of girls needing help with their heats, eager to tell you about her pregnancy, just to see you not take her seriously, thinking that she's pulling your leg. frustrated little thing tries hard to get your foggy brain to listen, growing more and more irritated by the second as you consistently dismiss her words as a joke and catching sight of the faint hickeys on your neck, and suddenly, she's whining and begging and— "please, listen to me!"

and oh the poor thing, you sit up blearily the moment she'd started to sniffle and you're pulling her into your lap and hugging her and finally, you're listening to her. she's having your pup and oh— next thing she knows, she's mewling for her neck to be marked, all glassy eyes and whimpers as you continued to rub against her ruined underwear, hands tugging at your hair to try and get you to mark her so desperately.

sobbing the moment you've slipped inside her, finally clenching over something with glittery tears streaming down her cheeks, tugging at your hair because goddamn, just mark her already! but you won't, and she doesn't understand why. you claim it's to get her prepared, and its all bullshit, she knows. she's more than prepared and she's not dumb. she doesn't understand why you just won't mark her. she's been a good girl, and for god's sake, she's carrying your pup! isn't that reason enough for her to be marked?

passes out the moment your teeth make contact with her skin, all limp limbs draped over your body, all too hypersensitive with the pregnancy and christ, a mark has never looked this good on anybody.

xoxo im giving you my liver yam. i keep coming back to your inbox.

the way this made me instantly wet. fuck. of course you don't take her seriously, at first. why would you? you've been the resident panty-dropper of the dorms since freshman year and not once have you even marked anyone. let alone gotten anyone pregnant. because obviously you're more trustworthy than all the shitty alpha men out there. your strength in powers is almost irrelevant compared to the self-control you have to not mark up or breed any of the omegas that knock on your dormroom door; rubbing their thighs together, whimpering and wet. cate hates thinking about them. has something in her stomach boiling and skin prickling, even before she bought the pregnancy test kit.

it doesn't help that cate comes in right after you've finished with another omega, passing them as they limp out of your dorms, blushing and sated. when she comes in, you look it, too. brain all fuzzy from the high you've just gotten—only just got your sweatpants pulled up when cate floats in. anxious, fiddling thing. fidgeting in the middle of your dorm room, fingers twisting the hem of her shirt, psyching herself up like she's been for the past four days before it just spills from her lips; "i'm pregnant. s'yours." rushing out so fast you almost miss it. holding her breath for your reply, head pounding. the words set you on fire, for a moment. line of electricity crackling through your ears and straight to your cock. then, clarity hits. "no, you're not." you snort, suppressing the flush of disappointment (and arousal) that unspools. this is silly. it's probably one of andre's dumbass dares or jordan's version of a joke.

and cate. oh, poor little cate, whose been losing sleep and gnawing at nails and readying for this all to blow up in her face; to drop out of school and become a single fucking mother; rendered utterly stunned in the face of your disbelief. she just stands there, silent, before her shock melts away to annoyance.

"i am!" she stamps her foot. looks a little like a toddler. you bore her with this utterly deadpan look like, c'mon now, that has equal parts disbelief and desperation welling up in her throat. her breathing's coming in fast, now. and she says it again, one more time—in a way that has your eyes sharpening and body sitting upright in bed. pulling her into your arms, and her brain almost turns to static right then and there. all alpha alpha strong alpha gonna take care of me gonna take care of our babies—

when you don't mark her as soon as her plea is murmured into your neck, she lets out the most plaintive whine you've ever heard. cate's heart thrumming fast as she nuzzles into your chest, trembling. is she such a bad omega? she doesn't understand why you don't want to mark her. it's in your biology. she's carrying your pup, for god's sake. it should be the one priority in your head to stake your claim. mark her up and show the world she's yours, forever. why aren't you? fuck. and maybe its irrational but it hurts. because at first you dismissed her claims like they were nothing and now, even as you believe her; run your fingers over her tummy so tenderly it makes her whimper—you're still not marking her. still not mating her. even when she sinks back onto your cock and your teeth are dragging along her neck you're still not biting, and it makes her want to burst into tears. why don't you want to? what about her is so deplorable you're fighting your deepest, most primal, innermost instincts? there's a burning in her cheeks and her chest and her thighs as she bucks herself on your lap, pounding slick cunt to your cock, like she could force you if she could wriggle you in deep enough, make you feel good enough. she could force you, but she wants you to want it. doesn't know what she'd do if you didn't. you're not seriously going to fuck around with the other girls in your dorms while she's pregnant with your pup, are you? the thought has her spiralling, breathing harsh and ragged as she slams so deep against your hips; her eyes rolling back, gasping, "please please please–" "i'll be so good—" "do anything–" and she's crying out and creaming all over your cock. wet, squelching sounds only getting louder. she refuses to pull off until you mark her, delirious and overstimulated and leaving a gooey white ring around your base. she's panting, mumbling, blinking back tears as she presses flush into you "god, i'll be good—be such a good mommy—please—" and that's when you can't take it anymore and your teeth latch down. such a good mommy, you echo, growling into her neck. the way she nods, fast and eager to please—whining happily as she fucks herself back on your cock. she will she will she will she will.

[bookskeepers]

imagine you're just walking down the street, hand enclosed in tsukishima kei's, and you're both in college but it's summer break so you're visiting him and his family in miyagi.

none of the other karasuno vbc boys attend the university that you and tsukki do, but yamaguchi knows you exist and has met you before. of course he does, he and tsukki are best friends.

anyways, you've heard about how tsukki was in high school, both from yams and tsukki himself. aloof, cold, borderline mean -- he still acts that way towards others, but rarely towards you (unless you're bantering, of course (which is frequently)). he's seldom mean to you both on purpose, slightly less so accidentally.

so when you hear someone call, "tsukishima!" from behind you, and he slips his hand out of yours as if it's instinctual, you think this might be another one of those times where he's being mean by accident. you watch as he whips around, eyes alight with an emotion you can't quite identify, face pink from a blush as if he was caught during some scandalous act.

you turn around at a slower pace, trailing your eyes from his golden optics to where he's looking at -- a short, bright-haired ginger boy and a taller, darker-haired guy. they're holding hands, and you feel a pang of jealousy -- tsukishima's friends are comfortable to show their relationship in front of him, but he doesn't feel the same to show you off to them.

"hey shrimpy," you hear him say, his low tone tinged with that mean edge you've come to recognize. "see you haven't grown any taller since i left."

you don't pick up on 'shrimpy's' response, nor do you hear any other part of the conversation. your heartbeat's too loud and all you can hear is the blood rushing in your ears, feeling the familiar prickles of jealousy and anger begin to invade your system. the conversation is brief, however; the dark-haired man glares at tsukishima before rolling his eyes and tugging the ginger away. when they're no longer in sight, tsukishima seems to realize he's no longer holding your hand.

he reaches for it again, apologies written in his eyes as he intwines his fingers with yours once more. "sorry," he says after a bit of uncomfortable, tense silence. "seeing those two triggers my fight or flight response."

you're not used to hearing him say 'sorry,' so it catches you off-guard when you do. you glance at him, holding eye-contact. "so it's not because you're ashamed to be with me?"

"what?" he seems genuinely appalled. "no, of course not." he uses his grip between your fingers to pull you closer and plant a kiss on your forehead. "didn't you hear what i said?"

you shake your head. he gives you a soft smile, one that you know's reserved just for you. "well, they asked me who you were and i said you're my lovely partner."

a blush makes its way up your cheeks, and you try to focus on the conversation that just happened -- if you strain your mind, you realize that tsukki did, in fact, introduce you as his partner. and the ginger's response comes to the forefront of your brain, as well. "did you agree to go on a double date with them?"

"yeah, i did," tsukki responds. he presses another kiss to your face, this time planting his lips on your own. soft, sweet, chaste -- none of which were adjectives anyone would use to describe your tall, blonde partner. "it's about time i show you off to my friends, right?"

[navybrat817]

Do Stud and Smartie do a nice Thanksgiving or do they just have a relaxing day?

It would be low-key if they celebrated, nonnie!

So Thankful

Pairing: Roommate!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: You share some laughs with Bucky while you cook together.

Word Count: Over 1.1k

Warnings: Puns (so many puns), fluff, being thankful, inner monologue, established relationship, feels (it's me), Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?).

A/N: Short and sweet for Stud and Smartie. ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @firefly-graphics. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

It was Bucky’s idea to start cooking early so you could eat sooner and relax later. You were more than okay with that. While today reminded you of the blessings to count and memories to cherish, neither of you wanted to go overboard. A nice, simple meal to show that two of you were thankful for the good things in your life and each other was more than enough.

No traveling. No stress. Just each other.

I’ll always be thankful for you, Stud.

You glanced over at Bucky as he checked on the food in the oven before you went back to your task at hand. The kitchen was a safe haven in your apartment and making meals together was something you looked forward to no matter what the occasion. Though the space could be hectic at times with the banging pots and sizzling sounds, it was also an area to relax and have fun with your creations.

The impromptu dance breaks brought an extra layer of warmth in between cooking.

Bucky looked over your shoulder as he came up behind you with a small hum. “Looks good,” he commented as you added a pinch of spice to one of the side dishes.

You angled your head to brush your lips along his jaw and took a moment to breathe him in. He wrapped an arm around your waist in return and he pulled you close. “You look even better.”

“You think so?”

“I know so,” you smiled.

“I'm a mess,” he mumbled, giving your jaw a kiss. “Don't even have a shirt on.”

“And I'm thankful for that,” you sighed dreamily. He said earlier that he’d put a shirt on once you finished cooking, but you would've been happy if he stayed in his sinfully sexy gray sweatpants only. “So, so thankful.”

“I don't think our families would appreciate me video chatting with them without my shirt on,” he joked.

You snorted as you tried to picture the look on your mom and dad’s faces. As much as you missed not seeing them today, the video chat would help. If Bucky really didn't wear a shirt, they would make light of it.

And nothing would top the hickey discussion, your cheeks hot from the memory alone.

“Becca would never let you hear the end of that,” you said, leaning back against him. “And you may have to put a shirt on, but you'll have to eventually get out of those pants.”

He chuckled deeply, your eyes fluttering shut when his mouth touched your ear. “Will you help me with that?”

“You know I will,” you replied, smiling to yourself. “And I hope this dinner won’t be the only thing filling me up tonight.”

Bucky pulled away from your ear before he burst out laughing, the happy sound reverberating in the room as his chest moved against your back. It was like he was sharing his laughter with you. “Well, I’d love to stuff your turkey,” he said once he caught his breath.

“Yeah?” You smirked, turning in his arms to face him. “You wanna butter my biscuits?”

What’s a day like this without puns?

His eyes crinkled like he was going to laugh again. “Oh, yeah. I’ll butter your biscuits real good,” he rasped. It wasn't fair that his puns sounded sexy while yours sounded ridiculous. “Maybe I'll candy your yams, too.”

“Oh, my God,” you giggled when he pushed his body against yours and pressed your back into the counter.

“I’m not God. I'm just Bucky,” he grinned, leaning in close enough that his lips touched yours. “But maybe I can show you my meat thermometer and you can drop to your knees like you’ll pray for me to put it in your mouth.”

I mean, yes.

“Okay, seriously. What the hell have you done with my Stud?” You demanded, trying to shove him back even as heat shot through your body. Your beefy man didn't even have the gall to budge.

“Just let me check your temperature,” he pleaded with an innocent stare, a great contrast to what he was offering. “Make sure you’re hot and ready.”

“How did you say that with a straight face? How?!”

“This is me. This is who you're marrying,” he said proudly, your cheeks warm at the reminder that the gorgeous man in your personal space was going to be your husband. The heat rose more when his gaze swept over your body. “And I can't decide what I want first. Thighs or breasts. Both are juicy and delicious.”

You sharply inhaled as his eyes darkened a shade. “I don't know if I want you to stop or continue, but I’m telling everyone at Friendsgiving this weekend what you said.”

He tilted his head as if he was contemplating the options. “I think you want me to continue, especially since the turkey isn't the only thing that needs basting.”

I’ve created a monster.

You giggled all over again, your side almost aching. “St-Stop,” you wheezed.

He framed your face and kissed the tip of your nose, his touch almost drawing a whimper from you as you calmed down. “I'm sorry,” he said sincerely before he smirked again. “Why don't I give you something to gobble on until we eat? It might help.”

I must stop this man.

“You think you’re so ‘punny’,” you said, resting your hands over his. And he was. He would always find a way to make you laugh.

The charming smile he gave you was almost hot enough to melt your panties. “I like to think I'm adorkable.”

Yes. Yes, you are.

You raised an eyebrow at him. “This is what I have to look forward to, huh? A lifetime of this?”

Bucky’s eyes went soft before he closed them, pulling you in for a deep kiss. He kissed you like it was as easy as breathing, open, steady, and natural. It was like the floor beneath your feet vanished. You floated, but his lips and tongue tethered you to him. It reminded you how loved you were.

And you would always be thankful that he gave you that gift.

“As long as you're by my side, it’ll be the best life I live,” he whispered, giving you another soft kiss. “And I’m very much looking forward to it.”

You had to swallow the tears in your throat. Who wouldn't choke up at that? “I’m looking forward to it, too,” you whispered, your heart racing at the fond look in his eyes. “And Stud?”

“Yeah, Smartie?”

You smiled, having to get one last pun in. “You’re welcome to mash my potatoes anytime.”

Oh, these two. Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[starneteyam]

i absolutely love your writing so much, i always enjoy reading your works 🫶🏻. do you think you could do an established relationship!neteyam x reader drabble where the reader gets kidnapped bu quaritch and his men and neteyam gets on protective bf mode when he finds out and saves the reader (like that one scene with neteyam and his bow and arrow). and when him and the reader reunite neteyam's frantic to make sure reader's okay and they just shut him up by tightly clinging onto him to which he holds them just as tight, just a fluffy and intimate ending 💗💗 thank you!!

KIDNAPPED ★

🖇️ char. Neteyam x Omaticayan! Fem! Reader

🖇️ warn. Mental torture, kidnapping, angst

🎥 In which you get kidnapped by Quatrich, and Neteyam is desperate to get you back

A/N I literally wrote this whole thing but when I saved it as a draft, it got deleted 😭😭 It’s a little angsty tbh, hope you like it!!

Everything happened so quickly. One minute, you were roaming the forest with Lo’ak, Kiri, Tuk, and Spider, and the next, you were being suffocated in the arms of an avatar. When you woke up, you were in a room you didn’t recognize, the white walls and white lights blinding you. You tried to get up, but realized you were bounded to a metal chair, with green panels surrounding you. “You’re awake.” You heard, the female voice echoing throughout the room.

You looked around as you eyes adjusted to the lighting, and was able to now see the Sky People surrounding you, all in lab coats or military clothing. As you had started to recall the events, you grit your teeth, trying to force yourself out of the metal binds. You hissed at them, baring your teeth and showing zero compliance. “Hey, hey now.” Quatrich said, walking over to you. Your free tail whipped towards him and smacked him, and he stepped back.

“Don’t make this hard, girlie. It’s either you tell us where Jake Sully is, and take the easy way, or you don’t, and you die.” He said menacingly, but you didn’t waver, hissing at him once more. For Neteyam, you would die in this chair, and so would your secrets.

Neteyam felt the same about you. Though, he was able to save his siblings, he couldn’t help but notice that Spider and you were gone. He grabbed Lo’ak by the shoulders. “Where’s my mate, Lo’ak?” He asked desperately, and Lo’ak ears pressed flat against his head. “They took her.” Kiri answered for him, her voice cracking as she said so. She looked at her dad with tear filled eyes. “Spider, too. They took them!” She weeped, and Neteyam could hear his heart breaking in his ears.

His breaths became patterned, his tail swinging wildly, ears flickering to show that he was currently in a spin of emotions. He was alarmed and confused, and scared. Just a few days ago, you had become his mate officially, and yet, here you were, out of reach and in the hands of danger. Neytiri hugged her son tightly, reassuring him. “She is the next Tsahik, she is closer to Eywa than any of us. She will be protected.” She tried to comfort him, but all Neteyam could think about was you.

The Sullys had moved to Awa’atlu, and Neteyam didn’t know what to do. He was opposed to leaving the forest, at first; of leaving you, but he had no choice. He didn’t know if you were dead or alive, or if he would ever see you again. He so desperately missed your touch, and the way you would look at him with nothing but love, or how you would mumble his name and pronounce each syllable properly.

Ne-te-yam.

Calmly and with that soft voice of yours. He missed you.

You had been on the ship with the Sky People, locked in a room and only taken out for interrogation because you opposed to complying at all. Spider, as you heard was kidnapped with you, was complying with them. You didn’t know the full story because you were in a cell the whole time, but you couldn’t help but feel disappointed of him.

Weeks had passed, and you didn’t know if it was because you were starving, but the air had started to smell like saltwater. You face was covered in dried blood from constant nosebleeds during interrogation. The machine they used on you worked very slowly because you were Na’vi, and had a different brain structure — you were too advanced for the machine to figure you out. You had bruises from low iron deficiency, you would constantly throw up from the little food they fed you, and you could barely stand from how drained you were, both mentally and physically.

You begged them to let you go, that they were just wasting their time and that Spider would help them anyways — but they didn’t. You just wanted to be back in Neteyam’s safe arms, but you knew that the only ticket out of this hellhole was by leaking everything; and you would rather die than do that, so you stayed silent and shoved your selfishness down.

You knew something was happening the second the ship you were in rocked heavily, as if it had run into something. Then, gunfire. You didn’t know wether to feel relieved or horrified. Were you being attacked or rescued? Staying silent as you listened to the muffled screams and gunfire, being swayed violently, and then, metal cracking apart.

You heart dropped to the bottom of your stomach as you realized that the ship was sinking. Every nerve in your body was panicking as you slammed your shoulder against the heavy metal door, banging on it and begging somebody to open. “Please! Somebody!” Your heart only started pounding harder when the tiny vent on the floor started flooding with water, rising quickly.

Neteyam jumped out of the sea, his eyes locked on Lo’ak, Tuk, and Tsireya, who were tied up on the ship. “Neteyam!” Tuk called, relieved to see her brother. “Ma Neteyam,” Tsireya called as he started cutting Tuk’s binds, “The dreamwalkers were talking about a Na’vi girl, saying she is locked downstairs.” Neteyam’s ears pressed flat against his head as he immediately recognized who she was talking about. “Thank you. Get Tuk out of here.” He ordered.

“Bro, hurry up!” Lo’ak ushered. “You go get Spider.” He told his little brother as he cut his binds, before rushing towards the stairs. “Bro! Where’re you going?” Lo’ak yelled. “To get her!” His heart was pounding in his ears, and every nerve was spiraling through his body. Knowing that you were there, alive, made his throat tighten. He missed you, and all these months, knowing that you were stuck in that small room made him want to beat himself up.

He ran through the halls, water at ankle level as the red lights from the alarms nearly blinded him. Water splashed violently as he ran from door to door, opening each one but not being able to find you. He entered an open space, seeing multiple electrical instruments and a chair with metal binds, and his heart dropped when he saw dried blood on it. He entered a different hallway, and his ears perched when he heard faint echoed bangs of a metal door.

His breaths were heavy as he arrived at the door, seeing that there was no handle and only an electrical panel that seemed to be a lock for the door. He grabbed his bow with both hands, before smashing the end of it on the electrical panel, continuously bashing it until it popped and sizzled, eventually falling off. The door cracked open, a body falling on the floor as if it had been leaning against it. His pupils dilated as he looked at you for the first time in forever.

You looked up at him, your lips parting open as you gasped. “Ma Neteyam.” You whispered.

Ne-te-yam.

It was really you. He fell on his knees as he took no time embracing you, a hand cupping the back of your head as he closed his eyes, breathing heavily as he felt you fit into his body like the puzzle piece that had been missing. You barely had the strength to hug him back, body limp against him as you leaned into him. He pulled away, both hands cupping your face as he quickly scanned you.

His eyebrows furrowed after seeing the dried blood covering your face, along with the tiny cuts and bruises. “What have they done to you, my love?” He mumbled, voice wavering. “Neteyam.” You could only say, tears welling your eyes. You only now realized how much you had longed to see him. “Are you alright? What- What did they do?” He frantically asked, searching your body. He was taken aback when you suddenly hugged him once more.

“I missed you, Neteyam.” You ignored his questions, and he dismissed his own, burying his face into your shoulder. “I missed you more. Don’t ever leave my side.” He whispered.

[alieeelinn]

Sandwich | Tyler Hernandez x fem reader

Content: Tyler hernandez x reader

Summary: Tyler has been running errands for the whole day and just needs to rest for a bit

Warning(s): there's Tyler angst if you squint but this is just fluff, since it's my first post, I wanna be nice

A/n: the reader also goes to the phantom realm btw. This is my first post hope yall will like it! I kinda suck at writing though, but my requests are open if you feel like requesting, and if you do request it might be a while before I do it since I never know what school has in stock for me

Tyler had lost track on how long he had been running errands and chores for. He felt exhausted, and he still needed to study since mid terms were just around the corner. He sighed as he stared at the book and notebook infront of him.

Taylor went to Ash's place about 2 hours ago since they had a group project together. Tyler dropped his head on the desk and sighed, he let out groan and looked at the clock on the desk.

3:45

There was still a couple more hours before going back to the phantom realm. He didn't even realize that his eyes were closed until they shot open when he heard a knock on the door. He furrowed his eyebrows 'That's weird? Tay wouldn't be back in another hour or so' he stood up and opened the door to their shared bedroom.

Another knock was heard as Tyler mumbled some words under his breath "can't this person wait?" Another knock was heard and Tyler swore that if the person behind the door would knock one more time- "what?" all the anger that was bubbling in him faded as his face softened when he recognized the familiar face infornt of him.

"Hi Ty! Hope you dont mind me coming here without telling you" the girl let out a chuckle, and oh how Tyler would have loved to hear it again, it was like music to his ears a melody that he would chose to listen forever if he could "hope I didn't annoy you with knocking more than I should have" Little did she know that she did, but it was her so he didnt mind.

He stepped aside to let her in and closed the door once she was inside "before I went here I actually got some bread since I wanted to go to that new Bakery people were talking about, and I got us some cinnamon rolls to try!"

He watched her put the plastic bag on the dinner table as she took out the stuff she had bought. I raise my other eyebrow and looked at the different kinds of bread she was taking out "why did you get so many?" She responded with a simple 'hmn?' and put the plastic bag away once she took out all of the bread inside the bag.

I look back to Tyler once I put the empty plastic bag aside, and see him holding one of the loaf bread that i had bought. He lift his head up and looked at me as he rose both of his eyebrows waiting for an answer from his question, I let out a small chuckle as I went back to the dinner table "I wasn't planning on buying three, my original plan was to buy some cinnamon rolls and a plain loaf bread, but thenn"

He looked at me as I took the loaf bread out of his hand and took the other one from the table "I saw that they had different flavors" I lift my right hand and showed him, as if then - and only then he realized that the loaf breads didn't look the same "this one is purple yam and this one is cheese" I smiled at him as he shook his head.

"You still shouldn't have bought so many" I watch him pull a chair out for himself and sat down, as he dropped his head on the table, I cringe as I heard his head hit the table. I put the loaf breads down and walked to his side "You okay Ty?" I asked as I sat on the table and played with his hair.

Ever since his dad passed, he was responsible of taking care of his mom and sister he became the head of the house running errands and doing chores, all at such a young age, he was probably used to it but - he was still human. He eats, sleeps and breathes, he was no boy with super powers, he was just a child. A child that needed to be protected to be kept safe. He went through so much at such a young age, he didn't deserve any of that.

"How about we go sleep for a while hmn?" I continue to play with his hair as I wait for his response "we still have a few more hours before we go back to the phantom realm" He lift his head from the table and stared at me with tired eyes.

My eyes softened and my heart ached, it hurt to see him like this, I just wanted to hug him tight and tell him how much of a good job he's doing staying so strong for his family. He pulled me closer as he hugs my waist and rests his head on my lap, we stay like that for a few minutes in comfortable silence as I continue to play with his hair.

"Let's go to your room so you can properly rest hmn?" He squeezed my waist then let go as he lift his face from my lap, I hop off from the table and as if on que when Tyler was about to stand up from his seat, his stomach let out a sound.

...

I look at Tyler and laughed, he looked away clearly embarrassed of what just had happened "okay, okay - maybe you should eat first then we can go sleep" I took the four cinnamon rolls that i got earlier and went to the kitchen counter "do you want to try the cinnamon rolls now or do you want me to make you a sandwich?"

He stood up and walked up to me "sandwiches are fine" I smile at him and went to put the cinnamon rolls in the fridge "you can go sit down I'll make the sandwich" He rose an eyebrow at me and I scoff "goo, shooo" he let out a chuckle as I push him to go sit down.

I grabbed a plate from the cabinet to put the sandwich on and then took the plate and walked to Ty "here" I smile at him and placed it down, I pulled a chair out next to him and sat down - I looked back to Tyler and he looked at me with confusion on his face "what?" He made a face that said I had the nerve to ask him 'what?' "You didn't make one for yourself?"

I smile and lightly shook my head, to think he doesn't get the hint that I want to take care of him, that all he has to do right now is rest yet, he still cares and asks why I didn't make myself one "not hungry, I eat a few chips before I went here" He looked at me for a moment like he didn't want to believe me or was about to protest that I should eat.

"Ya know, you're making me look like I'm a greedy boyfriend that wouldn't care if their partner were starving"

I let out a dramatic gasp "I am not!" He smirks and I gave him a playful smile and rolled my eyes "just eat" he started eating as we told eachother about our day, well mostly me but I knew he didn't mind.

Once he was finished eating I took his plate and went to the sink to wash it, while I was washing the plate I'm the corner of my eye he leaned on the counter with his arms crossed as he watched me do such a simple task "what?" He gave me a soft smile and said nothing, I rinse off the soap on the plate and put it in the rack "Alright let's go?"

We went to Tyler and Taylor's shared bedroom as he went in and went to the upper bunk bed, I close the door and went up aswell, I crawled to the other side as he opened his arms as I went to lay down beside him, I let out a sigh as I close my eyes slowly drifting off to sleep.

"Thank you for making me a sandwich" he said softly almost a whisper as he pulls me closer, I hum in response as sleep overtakes the both of us.

[jaegeraether]

Sunsets and footballers (Part 91)

Alexia Putellas x Character (46)

Masterlist (other parts here)

((3.8k))

RIDLEY POV

The noises coming from Alexia were so much sexier than she could have ever imagined. That wet sound betraying how turned on she truly was, paired with the way she widened her legs and sunk down to take more. She wasn’t used to taking it, but it was never like that between them. There was just… them.

She swore again in Catalan as her head dropped backwards, her back arching and pushing out her excited tits as she came closer.

Fucking hell.

One of her hands was on Ridley’s chest, held there by her own, as her other was behind her and beneath the strap, rhythmically stroking over Ridley’s clit with every movement of the footballer’s hips.

She couldn’t help but reach up and grab one of those exquisite tits of hers, circling her nipple under the pad of her thumb.

“I… yam… close-argh. F…fuck.” God, Ridley loved it when she spoke English. It was such a rarity, but she knew it was just for her. That accent was a fucking obsession for her.

“Don’t stop, Lexi.” Ridley encouraged, meaning both. Don’t stop riding me. Don’t stop touching me.

Alexia’s head came back up, lowering and giving Ridley a good view of her hazel eyes darkening. She hadn’t said anything, but she loved it when she called her that.

“I’m yours.” She said, hard. She was right on the edge. Her movements became slightly slower and a lot harder as she practically started to drop herself onto the strap, her gloriously harsh wet sounds were music in Ridley’s ears. Fuck. Fuck. “I’m… yours. I love you, Ridley.”

She didn’t seem to care that Ridley hadn’t said it back, yet. They both knew where she stood. Admitting it had been a major emotional release for Alexia.

“Ridley… Ridley…” Again, that accent. She was whimpering her name, and Ridley was almost certain that she didn’t realise she was doing it aloud. She was too lost in their bodies.

At the sound of her name being whimpered by her of all people, Ridley felt herself rising to the same state that she was in.

“I’m coming….”

Alexia’s eyes flashed at the admission. Any form of fatigue disappeared then, and she drove reliably with the endurance of an athlete. Christ. Ridley could see it in her eyes. She wouldn’t stop until she’d come under her. She’d ride herself through orgasms if she had to.

“I’m not… going… anywhere…” she knew exactly the right thing to say. Exactly the reassurance she needed. Ridley groaned.

She knew her. Truly knew her, and here she still was.

Ridley uncontrollably let out a suppressed mix of a cry, a whimper, a moan. “Fuck. Fuck. FUCK.”

Looking at Alexia wasn’t helping. La Reina. That determined fucking look on her face. Her eyes. Her jaw. Her lips. Her bouncing tits. Fuck. Christ. There was nothing she could do but lay there and… “Take it like a good girl, Lee.”

Jesus. Christ.

It wasn’t meant to be controlling, but a reminder that there were both equals in the relationship. At her words alone, she’d never felt her body tense up so goddamned tight in her life. “Alexia…Lex…Lexi… fffuck!”

She shuddered as she came under Alexia’s long, talented fingers stroking across her clit; her orgasm dragged out by the feeling of Alexia going through the exact same thing on top of her.

She swore in Catalan and cried out in a higher pitch than usual which shot lightning down Ridley’s spine at the sound.

The come down was a mess of sweat, twitching muscles and gasping breath. They stayed like that for a little until Alexia eventually pushed herself off the toy and leant forward to kiss Ridley on the scar on her cheek.

“Yours…”

Another reassurance. She’d never get enough of that. So much so, that she felt herself starting to truly believe that Alexia wasn’t going anywhere.

Ridley had never been the possessive type of person until she’d met Alexia. And now, all she found herself thinking when she looked at her was: Mine.

“Hold it… hold it… a little bit more back pressure… that’s good… perfect… let it land itself… touching… keep holding…” Ridley eased her through the landing.

The plane slowed down quickly with the drag of the water below, though the water was calm and Alexia had full control.

Ridley barely needed to help or speak even as they taxied up to the jetty and shut down, tying it down. They weren’t going to stay long – just in need of some more fresh supplies.

She finished the last tie-down and stood, pulling her empty backpack over her shoulders, with Chiquito using it as a step ladder for his back paws, his front paws on her shoulder.

She turned to Alexia who was watching her and waiting patiently. She extended her hand and Ridley smiled, feeling new things that she’d never get used to. She took her hand and their fingers tangled, holding each other close as they walked up the jetty. She could certainly get used to this.

They were met by their usual taxi, though this time there were two people instead of one.

Ridley slipped into the back seat, followed by Alexia.

“Is this necessary?” She murmured.

“Extra caution, Commander.” The new soldier replied with a polite smile as he turned around to shake her hand. “After the incident.”

“I’m sorry for the loss of your friend.” She said empathetically and saw the grief in their faces. “How is the other?”

“He’s stable, thanks to you. We’re grateful.”

She could tell they were. Truly. They would never blame her, one of their own, for something like that. The nature of their business was dangerous, and they knew what they were getting into.

“Where to?”

“Just to the markets and back. Quick supply run.”

They drove for less than ten minutes before they arrived at the market. She saw Alexia looking around eagerly at the options, though also more aware of her surroundings since last time.

They parked up the cab, and the two men insisted on staying with them. New protocols, they’d said.

They wandered the markets, picking their fresh food and packing it up into their backpacks. They still had a lot of supplies from their trip a few days prior, and so they didn’t need much. Honestly, she’d just wanted to check the updates, but more importantly, she wanted to get Alexia into a piece of normality. Being la Reina, she was so used to being around people, which was a hard habit to break. It wasn’t hard to tell that she did love the solitude of the island, though. It seemed healing for her and Ridley could see that more with every passing day.

As Alexia spoke to a vendor about the fruits he had, Ridley slid the battery into her phone and turned it on.

The first thing that caught her eye was Blue’s message. It wasn’t urgent, so she skipped it for the update from Duce. They hadn’t found him yet. He was hiding, well, and she wanted to meet up to discuss their plan going forward. She looked to Alexia, thinking, and then smiled, replying.

She took a photo of Alexia before responding to a few work emails to advise them that she’d be gone a little longer. She’d managed to tie up everything she needed to on their flight from Spain and was confident in her team to keep it running for the next week or so. Beyond that – Ridley would most definitely need to be back and liaising with clients. Her company was all based around her and her connections, after all.

She returned to her message from Blue which was asking about Alexia attending an event and read through it. She also said she loved and missed her. Her little baby Blue. She could practically picture her sitting down, writing the message out and pouting when she didn’t get a reply. She knew she wouldn’t – but she would still have been a little disappointed, though she’d never admit it.

“You’re worse than paparazzi…” Alexia murmured, coming close and squeezing her free hand.

“I can’t help it. You’re beautiful.”

She smiled, and although she couldn’t see her eyes behind her sunglasses, she could see the crinkles at the corners. She loved that.

“Any news?”

“None on Bashir. Blue has a message for you, though.” She gave Alexia the phone and watched as she nodded.

“I can do that. We’ll be back, no?”

“We will.. we can fly into London instead of Barcelona.”

“Okay.”

Alexia typed out a message and pressed ‘send’ before she made a few more clicks and smiled. Ridley couldn't help but smile at that happy look on her face. She was taken off guard when Alexia raised the phone and snapped a photo of her looking at the footballer.

“Couldn’t help myself.” She smirked. “We’re even.”

Ridley rolled her eyes. “You’re lucky you’re cute, Lex.”

“Have I been downgraded from beautiful to cute, now?”

“Keep it up and you’ll be pretty, soon.”

Alexia stepped forward and took Ridley’s cheeks between her hand, squeezing gently. “I’m always going to be fucking beautiful to you.”

Ridley didn’t exactly have a response to that, because it was true, and they both knew it.

“Touché.” Alexia gave her a quick peck on the lips and stood back, her happiness practically glowing off her. “Anything else you want, Lex?”

“Something caught my eye over there, and there’s some pineapple calling my name.” She admitted, pointing a few stalls away.

Ridley nodded. “You go. I’ll be a few stalls this way.”

They parted, and one of each of the Pa Wai went with them. She made sure to keep her eye on Alexia almost the entirety of the time as Ridley cheekily strolled to the store that had caught her eye when they’d arrived. It was a well-hidden football stall with jerseys and all sorts of other merchandise for a wide selection of teams. She saw the Barca shirt on the wall with Alexia’s name on the back and smiled, though it wasn’t what she was after.

“How much for the football?” She asked in Thai, gesturing to it.

The old woman sitting behind the table put her fingers up in answer and Ridley nodded, handing over the cash with extra as a significant tip. She picked up the ball and spun in on her finger. It was almost brand new, and in the white spaces were simple flowers hand-painted onto it, reminding her of the ones Alexia had drawn on her cast.

She was going to love it. She saw the approving look from her Thai military friend and grinned, hiding it behind her with her hand.

Chiquito purring in her ear; they wandered back over to where they’d last seen the Spaniard. She spotted the back of her first, the top of a pineapple sticking rather amusingly out of her backpack and couldn’t help but stare at her ass as she leant over a table, handing over money. When she realised what she’d bought, Ridley froze on the spot. Alexia turned and her eyes widened as if she’d been caught, which she had. She looked down at the well-loved acoustic guitar in her hand and then stepped forwards with confidence until she was in front of her.

“For you..” she said gently with a humble, almost shy Alexia smile.

Ridley almost cried at the gesture. It took her a moment to gather herself before she accepted it with a deep breath.

She cleared her throat of emotion. “For you..” she echoed, extending the football.

Alexia’s lips parted in surprise and then she chuckled. They both did, at the purity of the moment. They’d each had a moment for themselves and had both chosen to think about nothing but each other.

She took the ball in both hands, studying the flowers, and pressed it to her chest as if to hug it. As if she’d just been given the world.

Ridley couldn’t physically stop herself from taking a small step forward, cupping her cheek with her hand, and kissing her. It wasn’t long, yet tender and expressing what she needed it to. She pulled back, her thumb stroking her cheek.

“Thank you, Lex.”

Ridley ate the last piece of her pineapple and extended a piece of it towards an interested Chiquito. He pawed at it, before sniffing and then licking it. He made a face which amused her and recoiled at the tanginess of it. She chuckled and looked outside at Alexia. She was in all of her glorious nakedness, something that Ridley would never get used to, and kicking her football around. Chiquito padded his way outside to lay down in the cool shade of the sand and watch as she did so. She kept it up for an impressive amount of time until she grimaced and dropped it. Ridley watched as she froze for a second, keeping her weight off her bad knee, before sitting on her towel with the ball between her legs and lowering her head. Ridley’s heart dropped.

She washed the stickiness from her hands and without a second thought, she made her way outside. She settled down on the towel with Alexia between her legs. The Spaniard sighed and leant backwards into her as Ridley’s hand found her knee and massaged the tension out of it. Alexia didn’t say anything, which was a sign of how upset she was about it.

“Take it easy, Lex.” She murmured, her cheek resting against her own. “A few more days and you’ll be back strengthening it.”

“Don't remind me…” she said huskily and turned her head to put her forehead on Ridley’s jaw.

“You don't want to get back to training?”

“I don’t want to leave this paradise with you…”

Her mouth found her jaw and bit teasingly. Ridley felt her nipples harden against her bare back.

“Lexi…” she whispered as Alexia’s lips trailed to her ear, breathing gently into it. Christ.

Still massaging her knee, she felt her legs widen between her own.

“Distract me, Lee.” She requested gently in her ear, her breath teasing a shiver out of the Australian.

“Lex-”

“I don’t want to think about leaving this place… about not being with you like this…”

“I’ll be there, Lex.”

“Work will drive us apart a lot, and we both know it. We won’t be waking up next to each other like this every day.” She was right. “And I don’t want to think about anything beyond us here and now. So…” her legs widened again. “Distract me…”

Ridley let the fingers of her good hand trace from her knee down the inside of her thigh and to the soft flesh at the top. Just when Alexia would think she was going to touch her, she didn’t. Ridley’s fingertips of both hands stroked tantalisingly up the insides of her thighs and back down several times. Only when she could feel Alexia’s frustration did she stroke further up her body, over her hips, her waist, her lats. She stroked her lips from her shoulder across to her neck and to the artery she loved to see emerge. Nudging her chin up with her nose, Ridley’s mouth came down on her neck as her fingers made their way to her tits.

Alexia groaned, her own hands resting on Ridley’s thighs either side of her.

She sucked and swiped her tongue across her neck as she rolled her nipples between her thumbs and forefingers. She continued to do this, teasing her, giving her every piece of attention she wanted except the one she needed; until Alexia was bordering on begging.

She wouldn’t make her do that here, though. She needed to feel distracted. Empowered. Not submissive.

Ridley’s cast hand moved up to turn the footballers head to where she could kiss her, tasting those lips of hers between her own. As she did so, her other hand slid down to the wet mess she’d made. Fuck. She found her clit and began to give it attention, circling her fingers over the bundle of nerves. Alexia moaned, her tongue brushing against her own; her arm reaching back and fingers tangling in the hair at the back of Ridley’s neck. She loved it when she did that – gripping on for dear life. She did it often, too. It only encouraged Ridley.

She widened her legs, pushing her hips forward and almost rocking into her hand unknowingly. As Ridley worked her up, Alexia’s back arched against her, her mouth moving to find her ear and making sure Ridley heard every single gasp that slipped between her lips.

Her cast hand stroked downwards over her throat to one of her tits and gripped on, holding her against her while her hips began to move a little more freely. Alexia’s legs widened again, and she whimpered in her ear.

Ridley stopped her ministrations only momentarily to slide her fingers down, collecting her excitement and dragging it up over her clit as she started again, more enthusiastically and with more intention. She hooked her feet on the inside of her ankles and pulled her legs apart, making sure she couldn’t possibly close them at all while she fucked her.

Alexia’s body began twitched as she came close, like it always did. As if her body was trying to fight it. It was unusual for Alexia to be taking it, just like it had been for Ridley, but they’d both put all their trust in each other to allow themselves to be in the vulnerable positions they had been.

“Fuck..” she whimpered in her ear. “Argh.. Lee.. don’t stop… I’m close…”

She needed a little reassurance, and Ridley knew that. “I know, my girl. I’ve got you.”

Another whimper, this time in Catalan. Christ, she loved hearing her so desperate that the only language she could think in was her natural tongue.

“Fuck… fuck… argh… yes, Lee…yes!” Her pitch raised as she approached her orgasm, her body shaking at the build-up of tension.

The strength of the footballer’s legs trying to close was almost greater than Ridley’s but not quite. Only when she was coming, did she let her close her legs to hold the pressure of her hand there as her body locked up hard before her full body release as she came down.

Ridley relished the sound of her trying to regain her breath and only removed her hand when Alexia slightly parted her legs for her to do so.

“Enough distraction for you?”

“Th…thank you,” she chuckled in response. “I’ll want more later tonight.”

She kissed her on the cheek and admired that happily satisfied look on her face. Her post-orgasm state. It was one of her favourite things. “I think I can fit you into my schedule.”

They sat in silence a little longer, enjoying the feel of each other while the sun set in the distance. The sky lit up a bright orange as it fell behind the edge of the water; day turning to night in the most vibrant of ways. They stayed until it began to get cold.

“I want to show you something…” Ridley murmured. “I think tonight is the night...” She looked at the water, wondering about the time of year. “Let’s go get warm and eat dinner. We’ll come back when it’s dark.”

After their dinner, Ridley went outside to check and grinned at the sight. She went back in and held up one of her shirts she’d folded into a blind fold.

Alexia raised an eyebrow.

“Do you trust me?”

“Always.”

“Come here then.”

Alexia stepped forward curiously and closed her eyes while Ridley placed the blindfold on, tying it gently at the back of her head. She came back around to the front of her and touched her smiling sun sitting happily at the base of her throat.

“Nice necklace,” she complimented.

Alexia’s smile was freer and more herself with the blindfold on.

“It’ll look better dangling over you tonight.”

Ridley was lost for words for a second and saw the Spaniard’s smirk widen as she also realised the hesitation.

“Mmnhmn. Be good, la Reina. I want Alexia, right now.”

She took both of her hands and led her outside and onto the cool sand. She walked slowly, right to the shore where the water was calmly washing in and out with the movement of the ocean. She stopped Alexia in place and moved to her back, her fingers tangling in a hand she held behind her expectantly. Her lips brushed the back of her neck.

“This is one of the only places in the world where this happens…” she murmured. “Are you ready?”

“Show me..”

Ridley loosened the blindfold and pulled it off, tucking it into her back pocket.

Alexia inhaled sharply as she saw the blue bioluminescence of the beach. It was one of the most beautiful things to see, though she couldn’t take her eyes off her face as she looked in wonder. Her lips parting. Her expression easing and looking at the anomaly as if she were a child again. Wondrous Alexia. Her big hazel eyes. Those high cheekbones. That fallen blonde hair, trying to hide her from the world. Ridley tucked it behind her ear so she could see her better in the moonlight.

She couldn’t wait to show her the world she hadn’t seen beyond where football had taken her. To travel. To experience. To do all the little things she’d never had the chance to do. It was one of Ridley’s passions, to explore the world and everything it contained. Until this moment, she’d always believed she’d be doing it alone.

Alexia turned her head and caught her eye. “I can hear you thinking from here.”

“I’ll try to quieten it down.” She chuckled.

“No…I want to hear whatever it is.” She turned taking hold of her shirt in her hands and pulling her hips close. “I always want to know what you’re thinking.”

“Are you sure you can handle it?”

She expected her to roll her eyes, but she didn’t. Instead, she held her stare.

“You know I can. It’s one of the reasons you like me so much.”

She wasn’t wrong.

Ridley played with the blonde strands of Alexia’s fringe, thinking about how to word her feelings, rather than hiding from them.

Alexia was patient, slightly tugging her closer in encouragement.

“I was thinking that I want to spend the rest of my life with you.”

[chaosheadspace]

Hope you feel better soon!

If it's not too late for kiss prompt requests, can I send a #5) Where it doesn't hurt?

Or a #39) Because time's run out.

Gotta love that angst.

💜💜

Okay so this gripped me by the throat. I'm putting it all behind a readmore because Dream gets very badly hurt in this. Proceed with caution. It also has an ambiguous ending, which will be resolved with a future prompt, so be warned of that, too. If you like angst and whump, please enjoy.

Sort of continuation of this and this.

(Yam, you might wanna give this one a berth or ask me for further details.)

Hob breathes in the cool autumn air. It’s dark outside, the hour late after the book reading Dream and he went to. The streets are almost empty, it being a weekday and after eleven. Apart from the occasional car coming by, it’s just them and the streetlight, night laying over it all like a blanket.

It’s been a year since Dream came to live with him after being turned human by his sister, and Hob watches him as he puts on his coat carefully, somehow still unaccustomed to some things of the human experiences.

Dream has been—not like a child; no, more like a wild bird with a broken wing that needed to get used to living on the ground. Some things still vex him, still cause him difficulty; most of them to do with the limited human focus. He's burned food, or worse, himself; forgot laundry and groceries and bills and appointments. Hob helps where he can, and together they managed to get Dream on his feet again, albeit staggering a little. It's not perfect, but Hob is nonetheless proud of Dream. Isn't the purpose of life to fail and learn as best as one can? Dream is doing just marvellous, even with the difficulties his change has brought him.

He's full of wonder, of curiosity, Hob has found, and it's such a joy to relearn the world through Dream's eyes. Dream has continued to be an artist, taking to clay and paint and pencils with ease. He’s taken a liking at cooking, too, even if he’s not good at it. Anything to do with touch, really, Hob’s noticed. Dream loves working with his hands, experimenting, experiencing. Dream runs his hands over soft cushions and blankets, over his coat and the doorframe before they leave, over tree bark and cold metal railings, over his own chin and cheeks when he forgot to shave again.

He also touches Hob, his pullovers, his arms, his hair; curious and unrestrained. Sometimes Hob needs to swallow and take a deep breath, but he always lets him. Dream is so open now, letting him see, and Hob won’t spook him off with glimpses of his own heart again, not if he can help it, not when the only thing required is patience.

Dream’s hand squeezes Hob's, comforting, promising, pulling him back into the London night.

“Let us go home, Hob,” Dream says, and then lets go of his hand and steps out into the street to cross it, still smiling at him.

Hob opens his mouth to remind him to look first, but he's drowned out by the honk of a car horn, painfully loud, painfully close.

The split second seems to last an eternity, splits, splits again, an endless nightmare in which Hob so clearly sees Dreams shocked face, the headlights catching on his coat, the car. Unable to do anything, too slow, too sluggish.

Then the world is fast again, the car reversing, Hob's ears ringing. He can't see Dream. He can't see Dream.

Hob can't breathe, slips between the same parked cars that Dream just passed between a second ago, adrenaline and fear in his veins.

With a squeal and the rev of the engine, the car speeds off, and Hob shouts a reflexive, angered “Hey!” after it before his mind is again screeched to a halt by ragged, gulping breaths.

It's quiet again, awfully quiet, except for Dream's breathing.

Hob takes another step, looks downwards—*of course downwards, where else would he be, Hob, you idiot—and there lies Dream, a crumpled, horribly twisted mess, his chest heaving, his face a grimace of pain.

Hob sinks to his knees beside him, his right hand fishing for his phone, his eyes never leaving Dream.

“Dream, Dream, darling, hey—”

“Hhob—” The stuttering gurgle coming out of Dream sounds so painfully wrong it turns Hob's stomach. Dream's next exhale is a painful, ragged moan followed by a very wet cough that has Hob fumbling for his phone even faster. He presses 999 with shaking fingers.

His own voice feels like sludge as he speaks to the operator, too slow, muddy, somehow. It's all terribly wrong, the trickle of blood from Dream's temple, the bent, contorted way he lies there, the agonised sounds that escape him with every breath, the glassiness of his eyes that are looking up, up, into the faint stars of the sky, unseeing.

Hob reaches for Dream's head as he speaks, tentative, trembling, desperate to give him even the smallest amount of comfort, and then thinks better of it and reaches for his hand.

The operator stays on call with him, the ambulance dispatched, and all they can do is wait, wait the horribly long wait until it gets here. They told him not to move Dream, for fear of worsening his injuries. Reality is hazy to Hob, the operator, the promise of an ambulance, all of it is so far away, behind a layer of fog. The only real thing is Dream, wrong, wounded, wrong—

Hob's fingers touch Dream's, and with a sound like an animal Dream grips his hand with surprising strength. He's still not looking at Hob. Maybe he can't. And then Dream speaks again, his eyes still turned to the dark of night.

“Mother?” Dream rasps, begging, “mother, please—” He coughs again, groans, sobs spasmodically as his body shifts slightly. “Mother, can you not hear me?”

Hob's phone clatters to the ground as he grips Dream’s hand with both of his own.

“Dream, hey, darling, I'm here, I'm here, I'm so sorry,” Hob says, babbling.

There are tears on Dream's face now, his laboured breathing accompanied by pained cries, and Hob feels helpless, so helpless.

“I did not—want to—anger you,” Dream hacks out. “It is—so dark. Destiny won't—save me this time—mother, please—”

The world gets loud again and Hob's eyes still don't leave Dream, not as he's pried from Dream's side as the paramedics get to work, not as Dream is practically scraped from the pavement, not as they load him into the ambulance.

Thankfully they allow him to come with, seated at the side of the vehicle, right next to but still too far away from Dream as they work.

For a very short moment, after they arrive at the hospital, before they get the stretcher out of the ambulance, Dream looks at him. Really looks at him for a second, a sliver of clarity aided by painkillers.

Hob presses a kiss to the unbruised side of his forehead, weeping, before Dream is whisked away into bright lights and bustling activity.

The world slows.

Hob feels heavy, so heavy as he climbs out of the ambulance, as he gives someone Dream's details, as he walks into the hospital himself and is directed to a waiting area after refusing to go home.

He can't.

He can't leave, for nothing in this world would he leave right now, and so he sits under the too bright lights in an empty hospital waiting room, the blue cushion of the bench too firm to be comfortable, and weeps.

Someone comes and tries to talk to him in an empathetic voice, but Hob doesn't understand them, hell, can barely see them through his tears, so he waves them off. They leave him with tissues and more muffled, sympathetic words, and then he is alone again.

When Hob wipes his face and blows his nose some time later, he notices that his hands are grey from where he'd touched the pavement.

He mechanically gets up to wash them, the artificial serenity of the hospital doing nothing to calm down his nerves.

Then he sits there, again, alone, hiccuping and crying some more.

It's late, and Hob feels heavy, his body tired, his mind racing. Dream can't die. He can't. Can he? Hob doesn't know.

Just thinking about it shoots pain through his chest. He can't. He can't.

Pictures keep flashing through Hob's mind, of Dream on the pavement, of Dream's unseeing eyes. He can still hear the way Dream said mother, pleading, small, afraid.

Hob cries again.

Eventually, his spiralling thoughts turn hazy, flickering like the flame of a candle, coming in and out of focus as if they were a radio someone is tuning.

Hob sinks to the side, down onto the hard, uncomfortable cushion. It smells of disinfectant.

Just for a moment, Hob thinks, just for a few seconds.

Hob falls asleep waiting, still waiting, alone, his fearful heart beating Dream, Dream, Dream.

[oakbuggy]

Liar, Liar Chapter 2

Recom!Neteyam x female OC

Summary : Tala of the Tawkami gets captured by a familiar face and to both of their misfortune, they are trapped together due to circumstance. They are extremely vexed by this and each other and also very horny.

Warnings: Minors DNI, non-con+dub-con, explicit smut, dirty talk, authority, power struggle, mentions+depictions of blood, minor violence, character death, marking, biting, scenting

!! Each chapter will have images throughout the chapter, only the AO3 will have the NSFW-uncensored versions. Please keep this in mind as you read !!

Chapter 2 (NSFW) ~6.7k words

AO3 Link Here!

Prev Chapter / Next Chapter

Tala felt murky and lost, in a place vaguely familiar.

It looked like the ocean, like the one she had marveled at when all the clans came together under multiple leadership, most importantly the Sully family, but it was incredibly dark.

“Tala” A light feminine voice called out within the depths.

“Kiri!” Tala felt like crying, she reached for her but for some reason their fingers wouldn’t touch.

Kiri’s intelligent round eyes that normally glistened petal-yellow now dilated with worry.

“Tala, can you hear me? Where are you?” She couldn’t hear her.

Tala mouthed carefully the location of the scouting party’s attack. “Kol’iluen Hills, Kol’iluen Hills!”

Kiri watched her lips thoughtfully, understanding.

The Tawkami woman paused, should she even say anything about Neteyam? What could she say, when he was so different, so changed?

Kiri noticed her friend’s pained expression and smiled reassuringly. She had to tell her.

“Ne-te-yam--is–a-live”

When the Omaticayan girl’s expression morphed into one of shock and confusion, Tala knew she understood and her expression remained pained. Kiri had a special connection to Eywa, surely she would figure out what happened to him, how to help him. Much more than Tala could.

Suddenly the dream felt freezing and Kiri’s image disappeared before her eyes without a word more.

“Kiri!”

Tala gasped loudly, her body tensed and the firs thing she noticed was how cold she was.

She had been drugged and anesthetized, she had done it to herself before as an experiment but the tawtute recipe left her feeling so much worse upon awakening.

’Hello? Can you hear me? Are you alright?’

Tala surveyed her new home: three dark concrete walls and a cage door with thick bars. On the other side was just a massive hallway lit by stinging light. When she tried getting up, a weight held her down, metallic smooth cuffs secured on each wrist. She grimaced, her ear was sore too.

“Hello?” She whispered, throat dry.

“Here, here.” 

A thin hand waved at her from the corner of the cage, they also wore these cuffs. Tala reached out to brush the owner’s four fingers before holding it. Though strangers, they were both na’vi, and that was comfort enough.

“​​Oel ngati kameie, I am Orlek’an te Yokelk’ita of the Anurai.”

“​​Oel ngati kameie, Orlek’an, I am Li’tala te Eyay Engk’ita of the Tawkami. How long have you been here my sister?”

“I do not know, is it still spring?” 

“No, it’s summer.”

Orlek’an sighed. “I am a craftswoman, I was taken while foraging alone. There were others, but they’ve been moved, vanished, I am the only one who returns here. Are you a warrior, Li’tala?” 

“Please, call me Tala. And barely, I am an alchemist, but the war required more warriors. What do the tawtutes make you do here?”

“Labor, collecting, identifying, crafting which cannot be replicated by their tawtute machines,” Her voice was deep, but so, so weary. Tala sighed, frustrated, then gingerly felt around her right ear, fingers finding a squarish tag, pierced into the skin.

“What is this on my ear, this thing? Do you have one too?”

Orlek’an barked a humorless laugh. “Tags, so vrrteps can tell their false na’vi apart from the real na’vi. They can’t tell the difference.”

Tala continued to inspect herself. She pressed her palms against the scarring on her neck, not quite healed, definitely not treated. There was no ache, it didn’t seem infected, which was the only silver lining. At least a day had passed, maybe two.

She seethed once she remembered Neteyam’s face.

Suddenly the doors to the hall boomed open and loud footsteps charged into the room. A tawtute wearing an exo-pack and a long white coat and a dreamwalker soldier stopped in front of Tala’s cell.

“Finally awake, huh? Get this one.” The dream walker opened the cage door, making both Tala and Orlek’an hiss at the intrusion. The tawtute rolled his eyes. “Just great, fresh meat.” Tala read the name on his ID: L. Hanson. Hanson turned to the dreamwalker.

“I don’t have time for this shit, get her up.”

“You could say please.”

“Please, Patty.” The dreamwalker smirked and approached Tala, who had buried herself in the corner of her cell, pupils tiny and menacing. Patty raised her hands in defense.

“You scratch at me, those bracelets will shock the Eywa out of you if you do. No sudden moves.” She said in stilted na’vi. Cautiously, Tala stood up and nodded.

The cuffs magnetized and forced her arms together with a loud clack. Tala scowled deeper when Patty simply shrugged her shoulders. “You’ll get used to it.”

Tala grumbled to herself, she felt even more helpless than before now with her hands trapped together. As she followed the pair outside her cell, she casted a look behind her, able to catch the bright glint of copper eyes. Orlek’an. Tala waved her tail goodbye as the Anurai woman tried to give a comforting smile.

The doors opened with another slam and Tala found herself nearly blinded by the infernally bright vrrtep light fixtures.

“Move along, don’t got all day.” Patty sharply elbowed her back and Tala stumbled forward.

Lab 08. Ventilation Chamber. Electric 7B. The place was so massive and Tala committed the path and signages to memory. It was child’s play, as it was to any young alchemist. The place was crawling most with Recombinant and dreamwalkers, the humans she did glimpse at all wore either exo-packs or white hazmat suits.

After walking down the maze of Bridgehead, they finally came upon a darkened laboratory, Lab 12. Plants and samples were kept bright and encased in clear glass cases. Patty pushed Tala onto a tiny wheeled stool and then took a seat by the door.

“Understand English?” Hanson asked gruffly, also sitting down. He tinkered with his digital pad but Tala’s eyes wandered, there seemed to be only two other tawtute scientists working at opposite corners. Shiny shock batons strapped to their white hazmat suits.

“Hey!” Hanson slammed his fist on the desk but it didn’t shock Tala much. The muted thump was like that of a na’vi child’s tantrum rather than anything of threat.

“Yes or no?”

“Yes.” She said quietly.

“Fucking finally. Don’t wanna deal with this piece of shit translator.” Hanson grumbled to himself and Tala could hear the faint snickers behind her.

Droids came over to the table before Tala. For the next few hours, that’s all she did, she sat and listed out names of plants, herbs, roots, leaves, etc. With how monotonous the work was, sometimes she would pretend not to know words in English just to see Hanson curse and uselessly finagle his translator pad, which was indeed a piece of shit. This brought some entertainment to both her and Patty, and the guard herself seemed content to stay seated by the door.

After hours of what felt even more mundane than weaving, which she unfortunately despised, she was finally allowed to leave after Hanson waved her off like a nuisance.

Patty held her gun securely as she made Tala walk ahead of her. Seeing how the dreamwalker preferred to painfully jab her body whenever they needed to turn, Tala let her mind wander. She thought about the poison affecting Neteyam.

What was the efficacy of her scent? Did it have an active effect that persisted even without close proximity? Or was he just baring with it? How long would it be effective for once she was absent? Did it do more than ‘help with headaches’?

Her head was filled with so many potential hypotheses that her neck was suddenly yanked back to stop her from crashing into someone.

A large recombinant solder stood tall over both women and he turned, a strange glint in his eye. Patty’s back straightened.

“Evening, Private. Done for the day?”

“Yes, Corporal Halloway, sir. Just escorting the newbie back to her cell now.”

Corporal Halloway leered at Tala, his interest was evident and Tala felt goosebumps on her neck. However, a chance was a chance, and there was no reason to only count on Corporal Tom for her survival and eventual escape. Halloway seemed at least he’d be simpler to talk to than the whole paradoxical mess that is Neteyam’s psyche.

He stepped forward and hummed nonchalantly as if he wasn’t already fucking her in his head.

“You take off, Private. I’ll make sure the prisoner gets back, secure and sound.”

Patty saluted and Tala was left alone with the Recom soldier, her arms shifted uncomfortably, sore from having been forced together the entire day. Halloway smelled disgusting and she had to school her expression to keep meek and wide-eyed to not gag.

“Come on, sweetheart. Let ol’Johhny take good care of you.” He said with a smug grin.

Now she had to keep herself from rolling her eyes.

He led her down different hallways, much emptier than the ones she’s been in before.

It was when Halloway slowed down to grab at her ass that Tala was wondering if this was a good idea. His scent was strangely minty, and he smelled more like the musty tawtute walls of the facility than anything.

“Don’t be shy now. I promise I’ll show you a real good time.” He prodded, squeezing her ass cheek firmly. Tala recoiled but nodded, biting her lip to appear enticed, and hoped he at least knew how to fuck.

She could smell him before she could see him, sunlillies and bark mixed with gunpowder and she grimaced at the unnatural addition. Halloway looked up.

“Yo, Tommy! Training’s already over?” He asked breezily as his fellow corporal stalked towards him, Neteyam’s expression was unreadable as usual.

He nodded and Tala ignored the feeling of his eyes burning into the side of her head.

“That’s right. What’ve you got here?” Corporal Tom asked in an even tone.

“Hmm, just something sweet. Need something to help me sleep like a baby, you know?”

“Hmm.”

Corporal Tom squeezed Tala’s free shoulder, standing opposite of Halloway.

“But I want this particular treat. Been looking forward to it all day. How about you look for something else.” It wasn’t a question.

Neteyam’s gaze was extremely unsettling, eyes barely masking a foul mood and violent intent. Halloway raised his eyebrow at him, confused, and glanced between the two na’vi. After a beat of silence, Halloway raised both hands in peace.

“Alright, since you want it so bad, you can have her. It’s my turn next time though!” Halloway conceded and walked away lazily. Tala felt her spirit and ego droop, that was it? Was she not worthy of even a little bit more reluctance? When the Recom walked out of earshot, she turned to Neteyam quite haughtily.

“Surely you knew you’d have to share, yes?” She said with an unamused look on her face. Neteyam’s cockblocking was going to be a problem in her chances of escape.

Instead of answering, he grabbed Tala by the neck and pushed her into a room on their left, knocking the air out of her lungs as she landed on what seemed to be a bed. Her head hit the wall and she winced, cradling it. The blaring lights didn’t take it any better, it was harsh and the bed was barely even that, extremely stiff. A near claustrophobic, windowless room.

Halloway had intended to bring her to one of the rutting/heat rooms, closed off from the rest of the facility and meant for the growing number of Recombinant na’vi. It was private and soundproof, most used it for more casual purposes than it was designed for.

Tala glared up at Neteyam only to see huge pools of sunlight, his pupils intensely compacted and focused on her. He seemed very territorial for someone who considered her a toy.

She kneeled up quickly on the bed, intrigued.

“Did you really want to keep me to yourself?” She cooed, almost laughing. Tala leaned against Neteyam who stood, hands and face resting on his toned stomach as she looked up at him through her eyelashes. Maybe not entirely hopeless.

“Watch yourself. Halloway smells like shit and that defeats the purpose of you.” Neteyam sneered, shoving Tala back. She rolled into a stand and gracefully draped her trapped arms around his head with a coy smile, bewildering Neteyam. He had half a mind to just kick her out of Bridgehead and be done with her, migraines be damned. 

“If you wanted me to be all yours, I prefer being courted with beaded tops and food.” Tala was positively glowing, her smile was full of mirth.

“I changed my mind. I’d rather shoot you.”

She giggled. Neteyam looked at her like she was crazy and his body felt hot, he attributed it to anger from her insolence. He growled as he grabbed at the backs of her legs and landed both of them on the top of the bed. Her linked arms made it impossible for her to move away.

“Hey-!” Tala yelped, the back of her head stung hitting the hard pillow.

Neteyam kissed her hard, sick of her speaking. The kiss had them both opening their mouths wide, fangs clacking, their arousals grinding against each other. The friction made Tala arch her back and moan breathily.

To his intense displeasure that moan just turned into more airy giggling.

“But what about tomorrow, or the day after that? Are you going to see me every day, is that it?” Tala asked mockingly, her tail swishing back and forth cheekily. Neteyam said nothing and smirked.

Tala’s smile dropped and her tail stilled. There was no way this skxawng was serious.

Neteyam scoffed then dove his face over the crook of her neck to inhale more of her spicy-sweet scent. He bit at her neck, right under her jaw, and suckled her skin, she shivered and moaned. 

“I’m not surprised you already need a reminder of what you are.”

Before Tala could process his words, suddenly he was ripping her arms off his head and manhandled her to land on the floor on her ass.

“Ow! You fucking brute, you could’ve-“ She started to curse but froze when quick hands practically ripped off the metal buckles of his tactical harness and zipped down his pants just enough for his heavy cock to hang free.

Tala was glad she was on her knees because they were already feeling weak looking at the size of it.

Thick-vein and ribbed, Tala nearly cursed Eywa for making this particular creation so infuriatingly perfect. His tip was already leaking precum that smelled so unfortunately divine to her nose.

Neteyam’s ego naturally inflated as he watched her practically salivate over his cock, not even fully hard. He smirked as he taunted her. “Be a good girl and maybe I’ll even fuck you with it.”

Her clunt clenched around nothing and Tala could feel her cheeks flush even deeper and she bit her lips shut.

“Open.” He rasped heatedly and with his other hand, he lifted the tip to her lips. She blinked up at him through her long eyelashes and paused. His pupils were already blown wide black, looking more and more like he wanted to devour her whole, and her entire body felt flushed under his concentrated stare.

She let her eyelids drop and held eye contact as her tongue slowly lapped at his tip for a taste.

Salty, his musk was dizzying her. He kept still.

Tala opened her jaw wider to take the in head slowly.

Neteyam yanked her head forward and held onto her with both hands. He let out a long groan feeling her throat spasm and squeeze his length in her panic. His hips started moving slowly, uncaring for how much she was choking on his thick length.

“Fuck…” He breathed out quietly over her muffled whimpers.

Tears beaded on Tala’s eyelashes at the sudden burn in her throat and her hands flew to his clothed thighs, clawing onto them for dear life as Neteyam started fucking her mouth. He leveraged her head in time with his hips, making her nose hit his pelvis each time, ignoring every gag.

Tala tried her best to relax her throat, laying her tongue flat against the underside of his cock, though her adaptability only earned her insults.

“Such a slut. You’re used to this, aren’t you?” He growled tauntingly and pulled out his cock almost all the way before slamming it back into her windpipe. She screamed around his hard cock, the vibrations making him rut while the sound stroked his ego. His eyes were open, enthralled in watching her fall apart and choke, uselessly trying to squirm and push away from him. Precum and drool dribbled from the sides of her swollen lips and Neteyam felt like he could cum from just the sound of her desperate whines alone.

“You’re a toy, Tala, my toy. And I’ll use my toy whenever I want.” Neteyam chuckled darkly but Tala could barely hear at this point. His cock was bruising her throat, her eyes were watering nonstop and her head was spinning.

His moans and grunts filled the room, he’s not sure how he was able to keep this long without Tala’s mouth. It was tight and wet, and it felt so good to shut her up. Tala worked her tongue to massage the underside, she couldn’t help moaning as she felt every hard ridge of his cock. Her tewng was soaked through even despite the abuse of her mouth. He could smell her so clearly, her arousal made him enjoy her mouth all the more.

“You only exist for me now.” Neteyam muttered with a wicked smile. He then stilled, holding Tala’s head down. Her eyes were darting up at him and his figure, yet he just waited. He waited for her fingers to start trembling and dug into his clothes thighs. Waited for her to try forcing her head back against his grip. Waited for her drool to overflow, her whimpers to get louder and louder, her throat to convulse-

“Do you understand, ma’fil(my toy)?”

Tala nodded desperately.

Neteyam let her head go and she lurched backward, coughing out drool and precum. She gasped and shuddered, tears running down her cheeks and even her tail was too weak to raise itself from the ground. He graciously allowed a few more seconds before he started pulling her head towards him again.

Tala resigned to her current fate, dizzied and hot from him abusing her throat. He liked her like this, so much more compliant. Neteyam loved the way her eyes rolled back every time she gasped for breath and how all that drool was running down her neck, to the floor, and dripping from her tits.

“Good girl… there’s hope for you yet.” He muttered, now his hips adding more force every time she sunk down to his hilt. She moaned a whine, her mouth felt fucking heavenly.

He let out tawtute curses under his breath and kept Tala’s head still, snapping his cock into her mouth in fast strokes. 

Finally, Neteyam let out a long curse and froze, eyes snapped shut as he came in the back of her throat. Tala’s eyes rolled back, she just couldn’t swallow, she couldn’t breathe, and her body was twitching and desperate for air.

When he finally pulled out of her mouth, Tala collapsed forward, coughing and leaking cum from her swollen lips.

There were barely any thoughts in her head, only the taste of his cum and the unsatisfied throbbing of her pussy.

Neteyam tugged her head up by her hair, he wanted to see her face.

Eywa, she looked so wrecked, he could tell she was barely even registering the force of his grip and it made him smirk.

Tala knew what a complete mess she must’ve looked like, she had basically sobbed around that wonderfully–stupidly– ribbed cock. After she regained some sense she looked up begrudgingly, ears ready to hear whatever smug shit was about to spew from that handsome face.

“Good girl. You did your best.” UGH

“Fuck you.” It was harder to speak than she thought it would be.

He chuckled. He pressed some button on his wrist tech and with a drop, Tala’s hands unlinked. She looked down, then looked up, mind still catching up.

“You… could have done that this entire time?”

“What’s the problem? You only used your mouth.”

Tala hissed. She looked down on herself, cum and unholy amount of drool stuck to her skin and made her feel that much more dirty. She empathically placed her hands on both of his thighs to support herself to her feet and then leaned close to his face.

“Well, your toy wants to be clean now, if you don’t mind.” She glowered. Unsatisfied or not, Tala would rather get cleaned than anything at that moment. Neteyam looked down to watch his cum dripping down her neck and tits, decorating her boobs enticingly, his smug smile widened.

“You’ve never looked better.” He smiled as if he had given her a genuine compliment and Tala wanted to suffocate him. Before the Tawkami girl could reach for the pillow, Neteyam suddenly stood up, stepped out of his pants, and tugged off his shirt lazily. He grabbed Tala around her waist and carried her like a sack into the connected bathroom unit. There had to be one when heats or ruts could last days at a time.

“O-Oh! Neteyam, you skxawng!” She struggled, cursing. He sighed. “I’ll drop you.” Tala went limp.

The bathroom was small, more like a wet room with a connected hand-hold faucet. Obviously, Neteyam got to it first, and obviously, he turned it on and struck her with freezing water and he laughed meanly at the scream that came out of her mouth.

“Such a fucking—!” She expeled a long string of na’vi curses that Neteyam didn’t bother to listen to. All of her was wet and cold and Tala flung her wet hair at Neteyam to slap him. He merely chuckled and when the water turned warm, he held the showerhead above his head and pulled her in to let it soak down her too.

“Gotta help clean my toy, yes?” He replied and Tala scoffed. She worked on washing her face and ran her hands along her neck and chest, pawing at her breasts to get that sticky feeling and his smell off of her.

Maybe Neteyam was staring. Maybe he was thinking of pushing her against the wall and having her scream his name out of pleasure this time.

When Tala looked back at him, cheeks still red and lips still swollen, now her hair cascading in soft wet waves, he seriously contemplated having that thought be a reality.

“Your toy is fragile, it’d be a problem for you too if I broke.” She said snarkily, knowing exactly what was going on in his mind. “Your headband, skxawngs.” She lightly pulled the headband off before the fabric got completely soaked. 

Neteyam watched as she gently placed it on a dry ledge, away from the spray, then massaged the area of his mark on her neck.

He supposed he could have been gentler with the bite, with the way it bruised ugly vivid colors and still had hard shells of blood. Tala glanced up at him, his scar visible. He was still handsome even with the scar on his forehead, which was infuriating, but still, it was large, and it looked… as if it was burning inside him.

“Does it hurt?” She asked, both knew what she was referring to. He snorted.

“Do you care?”

“Oh, yes, I enjoy asking about things I don't care about! You act as if I like wasting my own time.” She replied sarcastically.

“You do, you do it all the time.”

Tala screwed up her face and turned away from him with a huff, because maybe he was technically correct, it was a coincidence. She’d rather freeze outside than spend another second with him. He stopped her by just barely ghosting his fingers over her elbow.

“It doesn’t right now.” His voice was low, likely honest. She paused. 

“Let me see.”

Neteyam highly considered not, but right now she was closer to the exit, and therefore his gun, so he relented. He put the showerhead on a hook that let the water run on them both and leaned down with a sigh. Tala gingerly held his face, completely focused on the scar tissue. There was skin trauma, sure, though it was as if injected with something dark, swirling, active. But still, a question picked at her brain.

“Why do you hide it?” The People did not consider scars unseemly, they were proof of their survival. This was too.

Neteyam pulled his face away from her hands.

“Tawtutes stare.”

“Tawtutes always stare.” Tala countered. He raised his brows at her and they stared for a moment in silence. He sighed.

“Some specific scientists stare. I don’t like the look on their faces, they look… pleased with themselves.” Neteyam admitted without looking at her in the eye. He wasn’t completely sure why he was explaining this. Maybe because of that along with headaches, he felt his usual aggressive thoughts… silence. Feeling clearheaded out of battle felt strange after months otherwise.

“Do you remember how you died?” Tala knew it was a sensitive question but they have already established that neither felt like being patient with the other. Neteyam kept still like a statue, eyes challenging her.

“Lo’ak shot me. Right here.” He pointed to his forehead scar.

Tala’s eyes widened, that wasn’t what she was told. He saw her disbelief and his voice turned scornful.

“Of course, he never told you, maybe didn’t tell anyone. Skxawng was returning fire, then hit me instead.” His face twisted in anger, betrayal, and the vitriol in his words made her feel sick.

“That’s… That’s not what I heard. Kiri said-”

“Kiri wasn’t there. I’m sure my Mother finished my songcord with a heroic ending. How could she sing ‘slain by his baby brother’?” He growled, fangs showing his spite. He straightened his back and wiped water from his face in an act to center himself. His eyes became even colder as he stared down at her.

“Besides, Tala, how well do you even know my family? Would you really be able to tell if they’re lying?”

The words stung but it was already where the Tawkami woman’s mind went to. She was closest with Kiri, and for Tuk she didn’t want to pry. Lo’ak only confessed that he hadn’t visited the Tree of Voices even once after a long night of drinking kava. He and Spider both asked for her help with their nightmares and she had concocted strong sleeping droughts for a peaceful sleep, but even once and a while they would still scream themselves awake.

Her tail swung erratically as her mind raced. Only Kiri had told her of their family surrounding Neteyam as he died, bleeding out. Her eyes shifted to the large scar on his chest instead.

It ruled out the headshot, the chest was his death shot, but how involved was Lo’ak? Her stance wavered in the face of Neteyam’s eyes scorching white heat through her own. If her eyes were a forest, Neteyam’s sun was burning it down.

Tala closed her eyes. Regardless, her theory was answered and the details surrounding Neteyam’s death didn’t matter to her, not when she was focused on her survival. This was not her goal.

“So the scientists brought you back. Shouldn’t you be proud of them?” She asked instead. He glowered.

“You and I both know that I shouldn’t be here.”

Tala hummed, neutral. He knew it was wrong for him to be alive, but now that he was he would be fighting for the RDA’s behalf. She smiled, slightly embittered, mostly sad.

“Seems like no one in this war will let you rest.” Neteyam found her words surprisingly sincere. The way her leaf-green eyes seemed actually so upset for his sake though unnerved him, her sentiment made awful feelings swirl in his gut and it twisted him further.

“Must seem like that for the Tawkami’s ‘Sevin Prrnesyul(Pretty flower bud). No one’s expected much from you, have they?” Neteyam’s words were venomous, malicious, and Tala bristled at them. What just happened, how poisoned was he to take her words like that? She pursed her lips, she really shouldn’t lower herself down to his level.

“Says the vrrteps’ amazing experiment. You're a wonderful little trophy for them, aren’t you?” She bit back before thinking and Neteyam glared, his nose twitched.

“Not as much of a trophy as you are. Prison must already be torture for you, you’re so used to just sitting still and smiling, and being fed well for it.”

Tala’s smile became saccharine and she raised to her tiptoes. This asshole-

“Aw, I’m honored the strong and mighty would be-Oloeyketan finds me desirable, it’s truly an honor. I’m sorry, I’m too busy smiling so I won't be able to immediately grovel at your-”

The way Neteyam smirked and puffed up his chest arrogantly made her stop dead. He tilted his head condescendingly. She sensed her mistake.

“Go on, little toy. Finish that sentence.” He taunted. Her face soured.

“Wouldn’t you like that?” Tala replied scathingly, returning his smile.

Neteyam cupped her ass tight and it made her let out a high-pitched squeal. She flushed deeply and bit her lips into an ashamed frown and he laughed meanly. He eyed her lips, still red and swollen and he licked his own.

“Yes, do mind the drool.” She quipped and he rolled his eyes. He flicked the shower off and then again manhandled her in his arms and she screamed.

“Stop picking me up!!” Her head swung downwards and she almost thought he was going to drop her on her head and really kill her until she just hovered over his half-hard cock. She could see it twitching to life and she stared.

“You are so-nng~!” Tala moaned weakly when Neteyam licked a flat stripe against her pussy lips, blood was rushing to her head. Neteyam encircled his taut muscles around her waist and proceeded to bury his mouth into her hot cunt, already leaking juices.

Tala grabbed onto his thick thighs for support, only brushing her face closer to his hard cock. Whether or not she sucked it, he found that didn’t care. He just wanted to suck her sensitive flesh and juices, envelop himself in her spicy and sweet perfume and listen to her babble stupidly for his tongue.

Her embarrassment afterward was always an added bonus.

Slick was trickling down her ass and her belly as he feasted, massaging and twisting his tongue inside, sucking at her clit. Her pussy fluttered and spasmed, Tala’s strangled moans bounced against the tiles. She needed something, anything to hold onto-

Neteyam lip’s stuttered a groan when he felt her warm mouth enveloping his cock. He chuckled softly on her sensitive bud, vibrations making her mewl and her thighs twitch around his head.

“Such a good toy f’me.” He husked, then returned to his meal. It was even harder to breathe like this but Tala drooled at how her throat convulsed around his hot shaft. Every time she needed to take a breath her tongue swirled around the fat head of his cock, her fingers bumping against themselves as they massaged every ridge firmly.

The blood was getting to her head and her legs were feeling numb but Neteyam’s tongue only dug deeper and sloppier into the sensitive and gummy walls. 

Tala panted quickly, her thighs started tensing up, she was so close so unbearably close-

Neteyam gave a final suck at her clit and withdrew his mouth from her puffy pussy.

The wholly needy whine that came out of Tala’s mouth was so unrestrained he almost felt bad for her. Almost.

He let Tala down, laying her whole body on the floor, and stared satisfactorily at her trembling body. Tala was not thinking straight otherwise she would’ve stopped herself from backing her ass up against his cock, mewling desperately.

He thumbed at her throbbing pussy languidly with a smile, he found it cute how tightly it was milking his thumb.

“Nete-please!” Tala begged, her pussy aching to be filled, begging for a release.

“I think I’m tired of playing.”

Tala huffed, she knew that was a fucking lie, looking at how rock-hard his cock was. She brought her knees up and reached between her legs, still giving Neteyam a good view.

“Then you can watch.” Tala growled heatedly and plunged her own fingers into her weeping pussy, holding eye contact. Her fingers would be just enough, her other hand furiously rubbing at her clit.

She never broke eye contact, eyelids drooping as she panted and moaned without reservation.

He wasn’t expecting this, it was unmistakably hot and he started pumping his cock in rhythm with her fingers.

They kept moaning as they watched each other writhe in pleasure and finally Tala’s eyes rolled back and she came so hard her body stayed rigid. Neteyam came in time, hot streaks of his cum decorated her ass and back, another pretty picture.

Her thighs trembled and Tala’s body collapsed, her fingers slipping out. They breathed hard for a few moments before she disturbed the short peace.

“Enjoyed the show?” She said weakly, her giggles made Neteyam’s ears twitch.

“Looks like you enjoyed yourself more.” He quipped back.

“Mm, just admit you were captivated.”

“You’re impossible.”

“You were impossibly captivated? You just like me so much, don’t you?”

Neteyam voted internally to ignore her as he carelessly cleaned himself, barely helpful to Tala, and threw the already used towel once he was done with it at her face. Her squawk of indignation managed to quirk a smile on his face.

Once both were clothed and dry enough, Tala opened her arms at him, still situated on the bathroom floor. He furrowed his brows up, somehow she always created new ways to confound him.

“I can’t walk.”

Neteyam looked at the mischievous swaying of her tail and growled. He had decided he had had enough of Tala for the day. He didn’t even realize he had already picked up the Tawkami girl over his shoulder and carried her down the halls. Oh, she resisted at first, yelled and struggled, but by the time they reached the prisons she had begrudgingly fallen silent.

The guards stood at attention when they spotted Neteyam.

“Sir, Corporal Tom, sir.” They said, recognizing the prominent Recom soldier instantly. He basically deposited Tala onto one of them.

“At ease. Return this one to their cell.” His voice resumed its usual coldness, but Tala gritted her teeth, she could hear his smug undertone. She was annoyed but unsurprised, a least he carried her

So Tala kept her mouth shut even as the guards shoved her back into her cell, kept it shut as she fumed on the cold floor and slowly fell asleep, and kept it shut until the next time she had to return to inspection.

His ailment confused her and the rupture in his memories worried her even more. But there was nothing she would be able to do for him, he obviously needed someone more attuned to Eywa, a Tsahik, Kiri.

It was not her destiny to save Neteyam, and she doubted he wanted any anyways.

–

A couple of weeks passed with more or less little fanfare. Every few days or so, more samples would arrive in the lab and she’d report in, inspect, and identify and every so often mess around with Hanson and the other tawtutes. It was fun to see his face turn red and the glass of his exo-pack steam up as he sputtered.

She couldn’t exactly swipe any plant materials, but little bits of metal wires, paperclips, and loose scrap metal went by unnoticed. All she gave to Orlek’an to fashion whatever she wished. Tala thought it would be maybe hair trinkets, come to find out instead the Anurai na’vi made darts.

She was only slightly offended she hadn’t seen Neteyam since that day, but neither had she seen any other Recombinant soldier. It didn’t even matter anyways, the RDA dreamwalkers were strangely hesitant approaching her now.

“Alright, that’s enough for today. We’ll call for you again once we gather more samples.” He said simply and Tala acknowledged it with a glance his way. Hanson grumbled and spoke. “Patty, please get her out of here. And call R&D techs, this thing is driving me crazy.” The tawtute waved around the translator and Tala couldn’t stop the slight grin.

“Will do, get some rest Dr. Hanson.” Patty said and Tala slowly stood up from her seat with a sigh.

Her head snapped up. Tala smelled something alarming, txumpaywll root with notes of cinnamon. Innocuous for adult na’vi but paralyzing for a child, and she basically considered a human adult’s immune system to be that of children.

“Stop!” She shouted, her eyes searching wildly for the source. The two tawtutes who were always in the back froze, tongs loosely holding a large pod.

“What are you on-” Hanson tried to shout at her but she gasped. The microseconds dragged as she watched the seed pod slip away from the tongs’ grip and–

It was too late, a plume of sickly green smoke erupted from the beaker, and within seconds the entire room filled with the sleeping gas. Tala covered her nose and mouth, the Tawkami built up their immunity towards drugs like this. She heard Patty coughing and the tawtutes gasping, their exo-packs were not meant to filter this.

She bounded towards the beaker and dumped the solution in the chemical sink, getting rid of the source but the gas was already in their lungs. Tala cursed, her eyes darted for anything, healing roses, fpomron leaves, something fast. Something in the back of Tala’s mind creeped up to the surface, she didn’t need to save any of these tawtutes. They worked to destroy Eywa, not just study it.

Tala looked at the scientists, looking pale and gasping for breath despite their exo-packs and hazmat suits being intact. Patty’s avatar was on the floor, slumbering peacefully. She cursed loudly, Great Mother she was an alchemist not a warrior!

The Tawkami acted quickly, grabbing at plant matter and dried samples from the cabinets. She used the handle end of the stun baton to crush and grind them, creating inhalants. Scooping them in a petri dish Tala swiftly brought it to the two scientists on the floor.

“Smell!” She barked at one before removing their exo-pack slightly, shoving the petri dish to their face. She mimed the action on her own face and the tawtute followed suit, Tala reinstalled the mask and moved to the next one.

By the time the Tawkami got to Hanson, he was already fully unconscious and she expertly puffed the inhalant up his nostrils, used to doing this for ailed children.

The mechanical doors opened and revealed a shorter woman with a blond ponytail wearing an exo-mask and two Recombinant soldiers.

“Stop right there!” She screamed, Tala faltered. Patty? A second after she resecured Hanson’s exo-mask she was kicked off of him by a Recom and she yelped in pain.

When she hit the ground Tala tried to explain but her wrist cuffs activated and a painful crash of lightning coursed through her body.

“Stop…stop!” A scientist from the corner called out and Patty nodded. The cuffs deactivated and the Tawkami’s body was left jerking erratically and stiff on the lab floor.

When she looked up she saw a vaguely familiar face, Corporal Halloway? He smiled and she committed his name to her personal curse list.

Her vision was darkening fast, she could see the tawtute Patty run towards Halloway and yell something, another hazmat-suited scientist started shouting.

As Tala closed her eyes, a whiff of sunlillies tickled her nose. Surely not. Wouldn’t it be just rich for him to arrive and watch her convulse on the floor, he’d probably have difficulty holding in his glee.

She took one last breath before everything became dark. Was that… blood?

Tala hated the smell of blood.

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[moralesmilesanhour]

'cold turkey' except i re-wrote it

summary: exactly what the title says :) unsure what I'm referring to? check my masterlist linked in my pinned post!

A/N: Both the reader and Miles are college students here, so I guess you can imagine comic book Miles as well? But I'll be following the timeline of spiderverse so his mom's alive 🫶🏾 part one part two

“Uh-huh. Yeah. Tell him to turn the corner and I’m right there. Thank you so much, Jeff. Bye!”

You balanced your phone precariously between your shoulder and your ear as you slid the tray of uncooked mac and cheese into the now-heated oven. Shutting the oven door, you sighed and took the phone in your hand to check the time. 

Dinner was in five hours. 

The turkey was ready to be baked, but un-stuffed. The yams were uncooked, and the beans and stuffing had yet to be delivered because Jefferson Morales’ son had gotten lost on the way to your apartment. 

Though you’d lived only a couple houses down, you’d never formally met the boy. Different schools, and you were always swamped with extracurriculars anyway. His mother would give you a warm greeting sometimes after sending him off to school in the morning; you remembered her soft eyes and quick demeanor. The boy seemed to take after his father more, if you remembered correctly. He had a darker complexion and an awkward stiffness to the way he walked, as if someone had reminded him to straighten his posture.

You tapped your acrylics impatiently on the counter as you attempted to recall his name.

Milo…Michael..Milan…? Something like that. 

Whatever, you decided, He’ll tell me his name when he gets here.

As if summoned by your thoughts, the doorbell rang. You sighed in relief as you jogged over to the door.

“Y/N? I got your stuff!” a muffled voice called out from the other side.

Opening the door revealed a boy about your age - lean, and tall enough to take up nearly the entire door frame. His hair had miraculously stayed more or less the same after all these years, only now his afro had morphed into a high-top fade. 

He held several bags of groceries that hung off of both arms and grinned proudly at you, as if he hadn't arrived thirty minutes late.

“You Morales?” 

“Nah, that's my mom,” he joked, “I'm Miles.” 

You rolled your eyes and stepped aside for Miles to enter. 

“Well thank you, Miles, I really appreciate it,” you replied humorlessly, “But if you'll excuse me, I gotta get back to–”

When you reached out to take the bags, he raised them high above his head with ease like they were toys. Your head snapped up to see that his hazel eyes sparkled with mischief. 

“What are you doing?”

“I am terribly sorry, ma'am, but I cannot under any circumstances let you carry all these by yourself.”

“I'll manage,” you replied sharply. Miles raised an eyebrow, challenging you.

“You sure? ‘Cuz I smell smoke from your kitchen, and I feel like you might need the help.”

The smell in question wafted beneath your nose, and your eyes went wide.

“Shit–Fine, bring ‘em in, whatever!”

You spun around and bolted towards the kitchen with Miles following not too far behind.

Your eyes watered as soon as you entered. The oven blew smoke into your face when you opened it, but the fumes thankfully weren't black. 

Grabbing a pair of oven mitts from the counter, you carefully removed the hot tin from its fiery mouth, standing and setting it down in front of you.

The mac and cheese was a golden brown, with a few darker spots here and there. There must've been a piece of food or debris sitting in the oven that you'd missed that had burned instead.

Miles set down the bags of groceries and surveyed the kitchen, watching your stout figure scurry about, flipping switches and turning knobs.

“It's just you in here?” He asked.

“Yup,” you replied while chopping yams. “My sister was s'posed to be here to help, but she's stuck in traffic. So, here I am.”

An awkward silence settled in between you. Even without looking up, you could sense that Miles was still standing there. 

Finally, he spoke:

“You want any help with that?”

You set the knife down and turned to him with a hand on your hip, and tilted your head in amusement. 

“I dunno, Miles. Are you gonna keep standing there like a lost puppy if I say no?”

A grin spread across his face. “I'll make the stuffing!”

You returned to chopping. “Knock yourself out.”

-

After removing some of the plantains he'd bought, Miles rummaged through your fridge. There was garlic–thank God–and chili peppers. After grabbing those, he opened one of the cupboards and found a bottle of olive oil.

While he was painstakingly chopping veggies, he occasionally stole glances at you as you continued preparing the yams.

Your wide nose was scrunched in focus, occasionally pushing a stray box braid away from your face. Cute.

He accidentally caught your eye the next time he looked up, and you paused.

“What?”

Miles cleared his throat, “N-nothing.” 

He turned away and poured the chopped ingredients into a bowl and combined them with the olive oil. 

The smell floated its way over to you. Interest piqued, you peered over his shoulder and watched his nimble fingers expertly peel several ripe plantain bananas, before tossing them in with the chili and garlic. Miles rolled up one of his sleeves to mash everything together, muscles flexing beneath his brown skin with every turn. You noticed a tiny smile ghosting his lips.

“Yes?” He asked. 

Miles hadn't so much as glanced up at you. Was it possible that you'd been staring so hard that you had gotten his attention telepathically?

Startled, you fumbled for an excuse. “You’re uh, really good at cooking. I'm impressed.”

The corner of Miles’ mouth quirked up.

“Sure you are.”

After filling the turkey with the finished mofongo, Miles slid it into the oven where it joined the yams, and shut the door.

The sound of knives hitting cutting boards no longer filled the air, leaving behind yet another silence. And time to kill.

Miles shuffled over to the sink to wash his hands, the sound of only faucet water rushing even more maddening. You decided to break the silence this time.

“So, how’s college? My mom said you went to New Jersey to study.”

“It's alright,” he shrugged as he grabbed a paper towel to dry his hands off with. 

You crossed your arms and grinned. “You givin’ me the parent answer. How's it really going?”

Miles threw the paper towel away, and gave you a lopsided smile.

“Fine. School's kinda whooping my ass, and winter break can't come soon enough. You?”

“Same here,” you sighed, unfolding your arms to rest them on the counter. “Med school ain't for the weak. Labs every five minutes.”

“You gonna be a nurse?”

“Surgeon,” you corrected.

Miles let out a low whistle, making your chest swell with pride.

“What do you study? You look like a student athlete.”

“Whoah, what does that mean?” He laughed and raised an eyebrow.

“That's not what I meant!” You giggled, catching the joke.

“Relax, I know what you meant,” Miles leaned against the counter opposite you. “I'm a physics major, if you must know.”

You nodded thoughtfully. Your guess was way off.

“Never met a future physicist before. Usually it's business, or poli-sci, or something.”

Miles winked, “I'm full of surprises.”

The gesture made your face grow embarrassingly hot. You'd think that spending enough time on campus would make you less susceptible to the charms of pretty boys with high-top fades, but old habits die hard. Still, you held your ground.

“You use that line on every girl?”

“I came up with that just now, so no. Flattered that you think it's good enough for me to have used it before, though.”

Just as you were about to respond, your phone vibrated in your pocket. It was a text from your sister:

“Coming over in 15. Don't forget the beans like last time 💗💗💗”

“Oh shit,” Your hand flew over your mouth. “We forgot the beans!”

You darted over to the cupboard where Miles had said he put the cans of beans in. Unfortunately for you, they had been stacked onto the shelf that you could never reach, hence why it was usually empty.

You stood on the tips of your toes anyway and tried to stretch your arm as far as it could go. When that inevitably failed, you considered climbing on top of the counter when Miles’ voice stopped you.

“I'll get it.”

“Nope,” you grunted, “it's fine–”

“Seriously, it's my fault for puttin’ ‘em up there–”

You turned, the smell of chili peppers and faint cologne hitting you instantly as your eyes met his.

Miles had already reached over your head, and was currently holding a can of beans in his right hand. 

Up close, you could see rows of full, dense lashes that curled upwards and away from his eyes in ‘c’ shapes. Your eyes then fell a bit lower, where a tiny scar ran across his left cheek that made you wonder about its origins. Did he fall off of his bicycle one day? Did he fight? Would it be rude to ask about it?

Meanwhile, Miles' gaze landed on your lips. They were glossy, lined with black and another dark, brown shade. He liked the shape of them. 

Before either of you could make any drastic decisions, the doorbell snapped you out of your thoughts. 

You moved from beneath the cupboard and let Miles keep the beans.

“You can cook those,” you directed as you left the kitchen. “My sister's here.”

Miles blinked and remembered where he was. “Right.”

[satrs]

Can you do a blue lock scenario where the reader(preferably she but is fine with gn) is in the kitchen cabinet and is reaching for mug. The blue lock boy is watching her from the corner of his eye but isn’t helping her. The reader is on her tippy toes reaching for the mug and she almost has it and then the mug falls on her head.

Bllk Boys:Isagi, Reo, Rin, Sae, Nagi, and any other boy lock boys you want/can write for

ᥲ/ᥒ ꜝꜝ ✎ hihi yams! thx for the request such a cute idea! Hope you like ittt^^

Oᥙᥴh!

ꜰᴇᴀᴛᴜʀɪɴɢ; ISAGI YOICHI. REO MIKAGE. ITOSHI RIN. ITOSHI SAE. NAGI SEISHIRO x fem!reader.

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ; 1.2k

TAGS; fluff. crack. swearing. some mean boysss. slice of life.

ALL CHARACTERS ARE 18+ (pro players)!

ISAGI YOICHI

Yoichi didn't think much of it when he saw you on your tippy-toes, hand mere touches away from getting a hold of the mug. His attention went back to the TV until he heard a 'thumb' noise, followed by your cry of pain.

Almost in an instant he was by your side, worry and confusion tinting his face soon disappearing once he saw you - hand rubbing your head in pain with your face twisted in agony and mug shattered on the ground.

He was quick to help you up and lead you away from the dangerous splinters, seating yourself on the couch you fight with tears, head booming in pain.

He looked at you, brows furrowing in worry. "Is it bad?", he asked, your mute answer and scrunched-up face already answer enough for him. "I'm sorry."

You shook your head before turning to the side to hide your tears from him, waving him off. "Could you sweep the mess for me?" Your cracked voice caused the man to carefully examine you, hand turning your head to meet his face. "Wait, are you crying?"

Your lips trembled in his hold, taking your last strength to tell him off, sniffling in the process.

"Just - get rid of that damned mug."

REO MIKAGE

He was in a hurry, an urgent meeting calling for him as he rushed past the kitchen, taking a quick glance at your figure, a stance like a giraffe, determined to reach for something up in the cabinet-supposedly a mug.

He bid you a quick goodbye, not thinking much of it as he headed off to the door, foot soon halting once his ears caught you cursing out in pain. "For fuck's sake!"

It didn't take him long to hurry into the kitchen, finding you leaning against the kitchen counter, hand rubbing your head and face scrunched up in pain and irritation.

"My clumsy baby got hurt?", he said in a teasing manner, taking your head in both of his hands to place a big smooch on your forehead. "There, there. It's going to be alright."

You clicked your tongue in annoyance, freeing from his grasp as you stomped to get a sweeper, pushing it to his chest.

Confusion was written on his face as his gaze switched between you and the floor sweeper. "But baby, I gotta go-" You let out a pity laugh, getting yourself a cold pack from the fridge to ease your booming head. "If you got time for teasing, then you got time to sweep up the mess."

His complaints fell on deaf ears as you made your way to the sink, cleaning a used mug to use it instead, making yourself your morning coffee while the purple-haired man cleaned up the shatters with a pout adoring his handsome features.

He began to speed up his movements as he noticed the time on the clock, tensing up once your firm gaze landed on him. "You better do it properly."

ITOSHI RIN

"Sure you don't want my help?" He inquired from his position on the counter, head resting in his palm as he observed you. "Shut up.I almost got it." You huffed out a breath as you stood up as far as you could, desperately reaching for the mug on the top shelf, curses falling past your lips while your fingers faintly touch the porcelain.

Not moments later you lost your balance, falling victim to gravity with the mug coming right after you. It happend to fast for Rin to do more that stand up in shock as you harshly plopped to the ground, your 'ouch' soon followed by a louder one once the mug fell onto your head.

"Oh my god." Rin sprinted around the counter to get to your aid, mug laying next to your injured form. "Are you alright?" You slapped his helping hand away as you stood up, flashing him an irritated expression. "No, I'm not. Get me a cold pack from the fridge", you grumbled, reaching down for the mug.

Rin did as told, rushing to the fridge in search of a cold pack to ease your pain, rushing back to your side once he noticed the blue-gooey package. "At least the mug is alright."

In a fit of anger, you snatched the cold pack from his hand to place it onto your head right after, slamming the mug down onto the counter, only to shatter it seconds later.

"Well, you should've let me-"

"Don't you say another word, Rin, I dare you."

ITOSHI SAE

"Y/n, could you make me tea?" You swiftly looked at the pro athlete, answering with a quick nod as you abandoned the sink, drying up your hands to open the cabinet, hand lifting up to reach for a mug.

You huffed out a breath as you noticed how far up it was, raising to your tippy-toes. Sae lifted his gaze from his phone at you, eyebrows raising in amusement as he observed you.

Your tongue darted out in concentration, slightly jumping to get the mug into your hold. But your triumphant smile that adored your features once you grasped the mug soon disappeared as you lost your balance, knocking the mug off, it falling to your head.

You still managed to catch it before it would shatter on the floor, placing it onto the counter, silence clouding the air in a thick fog. Sae's snickering laugh managed to ring through the room, your head snapping into his direction.

"I said a 'tea', not put on a show," he sneered. You looked at him in disbelief, eyes wide while Sae was barely able to contain his laughter. "So that's it? Not 'Do you need help?' or 'Are you hurt'?"

He paused for a moment, biting back his smile. "You look alright. A bulge on your head would suit your pretty self too." He was already by your side, petting your head in a teasing manner, before heading off to do his tea himself.

"You're unbelievable."

NAGI SEISHIRO

"Nagi, why do you always have to put the mugs so far up? I'm not as tall as you, you know." His gaze swiftly moved to you as you huffed out an exhausted breath of air, fingertips spreading far up in the air, trying to reach for a mug.

"Dunno what you mean", he mumbled, not sparing your struggling form another glance as his attention went back to his phone, fingers tapping away on it and sounds of gaming music filling your ears.

You looked back at him and sighed, turning back to the obstacle before you. "C'monnn", you say to yourself, fingers frantically waving around to take hold of it.

The frantic movement of your hand reached the mug not soon after, causing it to fall over the edge and hit your head. The sound of the impact with the ground caused the snow-white mess of hair to lift, tired eyes inspecting the situation.

"Huh?" His dense form caused you to click your tongue in annoyance, kneeling down to get a hold of the mug while grumbling. "How many times do I have to tell you, mugs at the bottom and plates at the top? Look at this now, all of it is your fault. Always on that damn phone."

He couldn't help but let a small smirk creep up his lips at your scolding, phone long forgotten as he walked up to you, taking the mug out of your hand to place it at the coffee machine. "Alright, Mom."

©︎���-𝐀𝐙𝐔𝐒. all rights reserved. Do NOT plagiarize, copy, modify, republish, or translate my work in any way!

[the-atlas-sister]

ᴡʜᴇɴ ʏᴏᴜ ʟᴏᴏᴋ ᴀᴛ ᴍᴇ (Neteyam x Best Friend!Reader!)

(Image from cinetrix )

Warnings!: suggestive content, language, teasing Lo'ak, very slight Lo'ak x reader, a bit of angst I suppose

Friends for life. That's all you and Neteyam were. At least that's what you said when the two of your were six. You remembered your first meeting with the boy as if it had just happened.

***

Neteyam stared curiously at the young Na'vi that stood, fearfully behind their mother. "Toruk Makto," their mother said, bowing low before Neteyam's father. The young Na'vi looked at their mother before mimicking her movement.

Neteyam laughed gently at the act, making his father send him a stern look.

"No friend of my mate has to bow," Neteyam's father said, cringing at the way Neytiri's old friend dipped before him. "Please, seriously, stand up. I'm not Toruk Makto to you, just an old friend's mate."

"I see why Neytiri likes you," the woman said, cracking a coy smile. Her eyes slowly drifted to Neteyam, making him stand up a bit straighter. "And is this the prince himself? Neteyam?"

"Hello!" Neteyam said. His ears pinned to his head in embarrassment at the volume of his voice. His eyes flashed to the young Na'vi next to their mother, his eyes lighting up at the sound of their soft giggle. "Who is that?" he wondered aloud, his six year old brain lacking impulse control as he pointed at the other child.

Their mother chuckled gently, placing a hand on your head and ushering you forward. "This is my child, Y/n," she said, pushing the child in question towards Neteyam gently.

They looked down shyly as Neteyam looked up at his father. "Can I play with them?" he asked, watching as his father's face lit up.

"If they want to," he stated, smiling gently.

"Do you, want to play with me?" Neteyam asked, turning his attention back to the Na'vi before them.

Their gaze snapped to the boy before them, eyes wide as they fiddled with their hands. They only nodded in response, which was enough for the young Neteyam to believe that you were now the best of friends.

"Come on!" he cheered, grabbing Y/n's hand and pulling them away from their parents. "I'll teach you how to fish!"

"Those two are going to be inseprable," y/n's mother said, matter of factly.

"I hope so."

***

And they were right. Ever since that day, the two of you had been inseparable. You had stuck to the oldest Sully son and he had stuck to you.

As the two of you grew older, as did your feelings for one another.

***

"Yams!" an adolescent y/n cheered, jumping up in excitement as their childhood friend wandering into the small clearing they had found as children. When they were young, they deemed it the hideaway, a word Neteyam's father had taught him. Since then, the name had stuck and it had become your special place.

"Have you been here all day?" Neteyam questioned, meeting you in the middle of the clearing.

"Have I? I hadn't noticed," you said, shrugging slightly. "It doesn't matter. Look at what I made!" You proudly held up a brightly colored flower crown you had created within your time alone in the clearing.

"How many of these have you made?" Neteyam asked, tilting his head, allowing you to place the crown on his head.

Your cheeks flushed as your best friend's eyes wandered to the large pile of flower crowns sitting in a corner of the clearing. Neteyam gave you a cocky grin as your face turned a deeper purple hue.

"They're not all for you," you grumbled, cracking a small smile as Neteyam laughed. You felt a bubble grow in your chest at the laugh. You had heard it over and over again but it was only now that this feeling began to blossom.

"You're so excited," Neteyam chuckled, his eyes scanning your face with a small smile on his. He felt his tail swish behind him, finding himself growing excited as you did.

"Just look at them!" you said, letting out an excited giggle as you ran towards the pile of flowers. "Did you know there are this many different types of flowers in our hideaway?"

"I did actually," Neteyam said, following you slowly as you approached the flowers. "I used them to make that top for you." You felt your heart skip a beat at his words, gently stroking the soft top you currently wore. It had been a gift for your fifteenth birthday from your dear friend, and with his confession, you realized why the flowers sweet scent was so familiar.

"How very like you Yams," you teased, fighting the blush that made it's away up your neck.

You'd be lying to yourself if you said you hadn't developed a crush on your childhood friend throughout your adolescent years. Everything the blue skinned boy would say or do left your hear skipping a beat and every time he would touch you, you were left wishing he'd never stop.

The only problem is that he never seemed to return the feelings at least not that he showed to you. So, as unhealthy as it was, you decided to push down the feelings, beating them back with a stick as you did.

"Come on, I made a few for your siblings as well."

As the years went by, the feelings continued to grow. As you both began to reach adulthood, the feelings only fought back against you and your emotional stick.

Little did you know although, as you fought with your own emotions, as did Neteyam. As you grew up together he found himself wanting to be closer to you. He never understood the feelings, chalking them up to loving his dear friend in a true platonic sense. The only flaw in his thinking was the strange dreams that he would have of you. He would wake up after dreaming of you below him with wide eyes and sweat dripping from his body.

***

"Dude, you're in love with them," Lo'ak said, scoffing at his older brother as they hunted deep within the forest.

"Don't be ridiculous," a now twenty-one year old Neteyam scoffed, rolling his eyes at his brother. "I just care for them deeply. They are my dear friend, you know this. That is all."

"Okay, then you wouldn't mind if I asked them out?" Lo'ak pushed, smirking as Neteyam's gaze snapped to him. His jaw clenched as he glared at him.

"That would be fine," he said slowly, stomping further into the forest.

"Are you serious?" Lo'ak pressed, following the older Na'vi. "Because I'll do it." Neteyam stopped in his tracks, spinning on his heel.

"I wouldn't care," he hissed, his eyes narrowing. "Y/n could date whoever they want and if they wanted to date you, that'd be their choice."

"Perfect," Lo'ak shrugged.

A/n respectfully fuck all of you who voted for this. Because I suck ass at writing this

Tag list: criticallybella lollife1617

[yameoto]

yam ive come back to geek over ur cate bots oh my god the stockholm syndrome one???? i ended up dicking her down w a strap on the couch after rebelling and showing her how easily i can wrap her around my finger js as i am around hers😭😭😭 poor thing was squirming after being edged multiple times— still threatened me throughout the whole thing i am enamoured by your brain🫠 a 🌹 for you, you gorgeous human.

my poor darling girl.. because she doesn’t even realise the hold you have on her. after all, she’s the one in control, right? obviously. obviously. no, you’re the one who needs her. she’s robbing you of your free will, your independence—making you rely on her to sleep eat breathe love because she needs to be needed. cate’s mommy issues warping her perception of love so badly.. her first mother locked her away half her life. her second mother was softer and held her hands and wiped away her tears but she also fed her pills and used her and made her so dependent she’d do anything for a scrap of affection. it’s the only love she knows. so of course she’d do the same to you. this is her loving you.

her lil fantasies in her head that one day.. one day she’ll get you to the point where she doesn’t even need to coil her hand around your wrist and whisper in your ear for you to come to her. days where she doesn’t order anything from you, just to see if you’ll find your way to her door out of her own volition (and you do. out of fear, probably, but you still came and she didn’t even have to tell you—and the thought makes her so giddy she can hardly sleep at night. admiring the deep, rise and fall of your chest as you slumber away.. tracing the lips that she could take at any point in time. she’ll pretend that she didn’t steal you away and that you’re here because you love her. really love her. yearning for something she technically already has.)

[exorcqism]

𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐎 𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐔

„𝐂𝐇𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐌𝐀𝐒 𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐑?”

CW;; general content. afab!reader, no sex, all fluff and the cute stuff. teen!geto, teen!gojo, no uses of y/n. not proofread so i apologize in advance for any mistakes if they’re made.

: ̗̀➛ art creds by;; currently unknown. dividers are not mine, if you own these, you may claim them in comments.

: ̗̀➛ WORD COUNT;; 1.88K

dark mode recommended

do not copy this plot. i’m perfectly fine with inspirations but give creds. if this plot his stolen in any way, the post will be taken down and you will be blocked.

𝐃𝐀𝐊𝐎𝐓𝐀𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒 ✉️🖇️;; since christmas is on monday,, why not make a themed story with the non-sorcerer hater?? in his teens ofc. hope ya enjoyyyyy reblog to support meeeee and if you want more :D

another note: trying a new layout 😵‍💫 i’ll see if i like it or not.

“satoru, no..” geto rolled his eyes. it was christmas time. a chilly saturday afternoon and suguru was going to cook a christmas dinner.

a ham (which he told himself that he’d buy on his own), yams, macaroni and cheese, dressing. whatever popped into his head to cook…another thing for him to groan at when he was struggling to follow the directions. and gojo attempting to bring his nonsense into his home wasn’t gonna solve anything.

“why nottt? you’re bringing that girl over, why can’t i come?” gojo asked. geto wasn’t really listening, he was in the middle of feeding his snake, suguru, which he named after himself because he couldn’t think of anything better and eventually, he thought the name fit.

“geto?”

“ah, sorry. like i said, no. you’ll make a mess and you’ll have kay all pissed off because you keep pulling on her tail. then you whine when she scratches you.” geto finally replied. kay was geto’s fluffy white cat with blue eyes. she loved being around geto and anyone else who he willingly brought around…but with gojo it was a love-hate relationship.

“she jumped on me first..” gojo trailed off. geto sighed, still holding the phone up to his ear. he knew that if he kept denying gojo of stopping by, he’d probably just pop up without his permission anyway.

“hurry up and get here.” geto said a bit sternly despite the small smile on his face. “and would you bring me some saké? i ran out last night.”

“on my way!” gojo beamed before hanging up. geto adjusted his sweater and shook his head as he placed his phone down on the counter. the slim male would put his hair up into his usual ponytail and begin to take everything out of the cabinets that he needed to cook.

kay would meow a bit loudly over the clanging of pots and pans, assuming that she’d get some food too.

“right…” geto sighed. “gimme a second.”

quickly, geto walked over to the cat feeder that he ordered off amazon a couple weeks ago and pressed the button to dispense some food and immediately, kay ran past him to eat her food.

the male felt like he was already about to go crazy because of all the things he had been doing at once. turning on the speaker, geto would turn on a song that he remembered that you recommended to him. he loved hearing your recommendations, even though he never listened half the time and he’d play it off like he forgot.

‘no one knows’ by brent faiyaz began playing from his tv and geto was already enjoying himself while he had been waiting on you and his second guest. he’d light a cigarette as he vibed to the song playing from his tv, sliding around the hardwood floor in his socks.

“one stick of butter…three tablespoons of flour…” geto mumbled the ingredients you wrote down to make macaroni, his index finger underlining each word as he read.

as geto began to cook, mixing ingredients together and tossing the partially finished product into the oven, the doorbell rang. he was kinda hoping it was gojo since he was getting thirsty. his choice was incorrect though. upon his snow covered doorstep, he saw you all bundled up in your cute puffy winter coat, grey scarf with a matching hat.

“hi,” you smiled at him as you stepped into the house, gently stomping the snow off your boots on the carpet. geto hugged you and gently kissed your head.

“hey, you been okay?” geto asked as he’d walk back into the kitchen. you take off your coat and everything you’ve been wearing to keep your warm and put it up on one of the clothing hangers in his closet.

“yeah, i’m fine besides nearly sliding off the road from the ice,” you chuckled. kay rubbed her head against your leg, greeting you before walking off. “you?”

“i just woke up not too long ago. i wanted to hurry up and cook before i forgot and i starve to death.” geto answered. you follow geto into the kitchen, and the place already smelled nice. this was normal behavior for geto though. he always kept things clean and smelling good. he’d freak out if someone (gojo) stepped on his carpet with his shoes on.

“you wouldn’t starve to death. you know i’ll come bring you something to eat…my family cooks still.” you say. geto nodded, barely listening to you as he quickly grabbed out some cups, expecting some saké when gojo made it there.

speaking of gojo, the front door swings open and a freezing gust of wind blows through the house. geto’s head snapped over to the front door and his pupils retracted out of pure shock and slight irritation.

“close the door, dammit.” geto shouted. gojo sprung through the door holding a brown paper bag and shut the door behind him.

“i’m here!” gojo said in a sing song tone.

“hey, jack frost.” you chuckled at gojo’s goofy entrance into your boyfriend’s home. it was a bit funnier knowing that geto was already sizzling in irritation.

“about time,” geto grumbled before snatching the bag from the icy haired male and peeking down into the bag. he pulled the glass from the bag and saw that it wasn’t exactly what he asked for. he sighed.

“i said saké not soju. and what the hell is this?” geto pulled out a treat that was wrapped up and a small paper bag.

“same difference…and it’s kikufuku,” gojo smiled, “i bought one but they gave me two extra. pretty interesting coincidence, huh?”

“you’re a pain in my ass already.” geto huffed, taking a bite out of the sweet treat. he raised his eyebrows, clearly enjoying it. the male held up the treat to your lips, which you would take a bite out of also. it was pretty good. you were expecting to hate it.

“go sit on the couch. don’t touch shit, don’t look at shit, just relax. i’m going to the store to go get a ham.” suguru instructed to gojo but he already had a feeling that gojo just wouldn’t listen.

“yes sir.” gojo put his thumb up before he’d pour himself some soju in one of the cups that geto had set out on the kitchen island and walked to the living room.

geto turned to you, taking a small drag from his cigarette. “you wanna go with me or do you wanna stay with …” geto pointed over in gojo’s direction. you smiled and nod.

“hey, i’m still here.” gojo shouted.

“shut up and drink your soju.”

twenty minutes later, you and geto arrive at the supermarket. the place was busy and geto wanted to be home as soon as he got the ham. while geto wanted to be in and out, you were wandering around, your eyes sparkling at the christmas decorations but grimacing when you saw the amount of krampus christmas cards on the shelves.

“ew..” you mumbled at the ugly art before walking off to find something else to entertain you. after a bit of walking, you found yourself in the bakery section. it smelled amazing. a bunch of fresh cookies and cupcakes were set out on the shelves and you couldn’t help but pick up a couple boxes. surely geto wouldn’t care.

“you’re gonna eat all this?” you heard a familiar voice say. you turned around to see geto who had been holding onto the shopping cart that had a bag, which you assumed was the ham.

“well, no. i was thinking that we have a little christmas party. all the food you’re making isn’t gonna be enough for just you and me…and gojo if you even invite him over for dinner.” you suggest. geto hummed.

“no.” he said bluntly. “eat all that stuff and share with gojo…you know how much he likes sweets and all that other junk.”

you sigh, knowing full well that geto would say no. as much as he liked being festive, he wasn’t going for a full on party. not at his place at least.

“you know what…i’ll think about it.” geto said. he didn’t wanna be a grinch but he also didn’t feel like looking at your sad and mopey face for the rest of the day because he said no to a christmas party.

your eyes light up and a big smile stretches across your lips before you hug geto tightly, obviously excited. suguru sighs but he smiles a bit himself. he couldn’t lie, he did enjoy seeing you happy. why not give your idea a chance?

when you both arrived back home, geto fumbled with the keys for a moment, his hands aching from the cold. when the door was finally unlocked, the cold winds rushed through the door, pushing the smoke that was coming from the kitchen out of the way. geto wasn’t worried because he didn’t smell any burning food. it was probably his incense.

geto was shocked. so shocked he almost dropped the food. he was able to hold onto it. the house was a bit of a mess. suguru was gone out of his terrarium, gojo was nowhere in sight at the moment, and kay…well she was fine. she was sitting on the cat tree looking more annoyed than choso on a wednesday morning.

“satoru!” geto yelled as he placed the ham down onto the kitchen island and began walking around the house quickly to find gojo. “i’m gonna kill him.” you heard the black haired male mumble as he checked each room…even the storage room.

gojo emerged from the dining room with suguru hanging around his shoulders. he had been wearing his round sunglasses and that white dress shirt that had the sleeves rolled up. the male lifted his hand and pulled the glasses down from over his eyes.

“oh. hey guys.” gojo smiled before geto took off his shoe and threw it at the other, aiming straight for the head. you couldn’t help but laugh when you heard the sound of the shoe hitting gojo’s head then bluntly hit the floor.

“satoru…” geto began, “what did i tell you when you first got here?” his teeth were clenched together and he had a smile on his face that obviously wasn’t very friendly.

“um…you said,” gojo paused, thinking of what was said. gojo knew better but he just wanted to make geto even more angry. “you said look at shit, touch shit…and don’t relax.”

“that isn’t what i said you mono-brain celled monkey.” geto hissed. he’d walk over to gojo, taking suguru off of his shoulders and returning the snake to his terrarium.

“you’re lucky i’m not gonna make you clean up.” geto grumbled before pouring himself some of the soju that he swore up and down that he didn’t want to drink because he had a taste for saké instead.

“seriously?” gojo raised his eyebrows before being hit in the head with geto’s other shoe.

“get your ass in that living room and clean this hell hole up. and do it right!” geto glared at the icy haired male but his yelling and angry looks only made gojo laugh.

“okay okay, i’ll go clean. don’t drink up all the—”

“move it!”

𝐄𝐍𝐃.

⋆｡࿇ ·࣭࣪̇˖ 𖦹°༅༚