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moonstruckme · 8 months

Note

Ok James but him and his slytherin girlfriend seem to come out of nowhere and the boys are supportive but are more mad at James for not telling them? Idk I loved your other fic SO MUCH

Thanks for requesting <3

part 1

cw: mention of injury, no details or anything though

James Potter x Slytherin!reader ♡ 1.5k words

You hesitate outside the doorway to the infirmary at the raised voices coming from inside.

You don’t need to be here, strictly speaking. James told you his injury wasn’t bad, and he has his friends to help him if he needs it, but…you can’t settle yourself down. You hadn’t liked the way he’d limped off the field, nor the tiny grimace on his face when Sirius had wrapped a bracing arm under his shoulders. It would be just like James to downplay how hurt he is to make you feel better, and the longer the game had gone on without him the more your guts twisted themselves into knots over the idea that he was in pain.

You’d seethed at yourself and your stupid soft heart all the way to the infirmary, where now you’re frozen just outside like a coward. Something inside you is coiled tight with tension at the idea of going to see James Potter, on purpose and in public, even though that’s dumb because now everyone at Hogwarts knows about the two of you anyway. Your sappy display on the quidditch pitch made sure of that. But now that you have official and widely-known claim to the girlfriend title, you have just as much right to see him as anyone else. You shove your anxiety back into your stomach where it belongs and open the door.

As soon as you’re inside, the voices become clearer. “—like this isn’t a big deal. The Prophet’s going to be all over the two of you by tomorrow, and we had to find out with every other fucking bloke at the school!”

“Pads, you don’t think I would have told you if I could?” James sounds exhausted, and something mutinous throbs in your heart. It’s followed quickly by the more familiar twinge of irritation at the use of those moronic nicknames they all have. “She made me promise not to tell anyone, including the both of you.”

They’re talking about you. Of course they’re talking about you. What else could possibly be more important after James has fallen a good twenty feet off his broom than his dating life? This is why you hadn’t wanted to tell people. Hogwarts wears away at private lives like dementors at souls, and the rivalry between Gryffindor and Slytherin is too strong for your relationship with James to have any hope of remaining untainted once the gossip mill got ahold of it.

Your instincts are screaming at you to turn around and leave before they catch sight of you, but you force yourself to keep walking. If you start letting what people think about you and James affect you now, you’ll never be able to get past it.

Remus is the first to spot you, going still as if you’ve come to hex him, but James’ face splits into a lopsided grin that has the knots in your gut loosening very slightly.

“Especially you,” you say to Sirius as you brush past him, perching by James' pillow and weaving your fingers into his curls. There’s a wrap around his middle. It’s very hard to appear calm and blasé when you feel like you’re going to rupture something if he doesn't promise you he’s okay right this instant. “You’d have had all of Gryffindor talking about us within an hour.”

Sirius bristles but visibly shoves his temper aside, his voice matching your coolness as he says, “If I’d told anyone, Y/L/N, it would have been to inquire about whether anyone’s noticed you gathering ingredients for amortentia recently. James doesn’t keep things from us. Artificial infatuation is the only explanation for why he’d tolerate you and your secrets.”

“Oi,” James says, but you pat his head placatingly. You can fight your own battles.

“That how you got this one?” you jut your chin towards Remus, who’s looking somewhat entertained as he watches the two of you spar. “If I’m ever in need of the recipe, Black, you’ll be the first person I come to, but I don’t need to resort to such measures myself.”

Sirius glowers at you, and James sets his hand on your shoulder just as Remus wraps a pacifying arm around his boyfriend. “Alright, I think that’s enough,” the taller boy says in his usual calm manner, and though Sirius is still tensed for a fight, he allows himself to be drawn into Remus’ side.

James nods in agreement. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you guys, really. I thought I’d get a chance to before everyone found out, but…” He turns up his palms helplessly. “Things didn’t go as planned.”

“We’ll get over it,” Remus says, Sirius quietly fuming beside him. “Won’t we, love?”

Sirius looks up at Remus' face, which is clearly a mistake, because he softens like butter in the sun. “Yeah, yeah, just gimme a bit,” he grumbles halfheartedly. “Anything to keep our Prongsie happy, right?”

James beams, so clearly relieved at the settlement of the conflict that you feel a bit guilty for participating in it. He kisses you on the cheek, chuckling against your skin. “You stink.”

“Some of us stuck around to play the whole game,” you reply.

“Ouch,” James says, but he’s grinning. “Couldn’t really help that, could I?”

You give him a look to let him know you haven’t forgotten how his negligence had gotten him hurt. “Debatable.”

You hear Remus chuckle but don’t take your eyes off James’ face, inspecting it for signs of the pain you suspect he’s hiding. “How bad is it really?” you ask, softening your voice even though there’s no chance of his friends not hearing you.

James worries his lip, big brown eyes looking into yours guiltily. “Pomphrey says I broke three ribs and bruised my tailbone pretty badly. Minor concussion, too, but nothing serious.”

Sounds serious enough to you. You ghost a hand over the back of his head as if you’ll be able to find and fix his hurt. He leans into your palm though, so it’s not for nothing. “I’m sorry I walked away out there,” you all but whisper. “I should have stayed with you.”

James eyebrows pinch together. “Hey, sweetheart, it’s okay,” he promises just as softly. He knows what it costs you to talk like this in front of people, like you’re turning yourself inside out for them to judge and stab at as they please, but James has no such reservations. He dots a kiss, feather-light, at the top of your cheekbone, wrapping an arm around you protectively. “Thanks for coming, I mean it.”

You clear your throat. “Yeah, and in my fucking quidditch gear,” you say in your normal voice, attempting to banish the heavy mood. As if your heart isn’t still beating, hummingbird-fast and fragile, in your throat. “We both need to change and shower, and then you should rest. Did Pomphrey say you could leave?”

James nods, still looking at you like you’ve cracked open in his hands (he might be right; it feels like you have, and it wouldn’t even be the first time today). He rubs your upper arm affectionately, but his voice is easygoing when he says, “Yup, I’m good to go.”

Sirius steps forward, as though to remind the two of you that he is, in fact, also present. “Great. We’ll walk you back to the room.”

You turn to him, not quite ready for your time with James to be up and aching for the opportunity to dote on him in private. “That’s okay, I can take him.”

Sirius’ eyes narrow. “You can’t even get into our dorms.”

“Please, like Gryffindor’s riddles are so perplexing.”

“I don’t need an escort,” James interjects. He pushes himself up with a grimace.

You halt him with your hands on his shoulders and Remus says, “Don’t be stupid, Prongs, you can barely walk.”

“I’ve got him,” you say firmly. Sirius stares you down, but you don’t flinch from his stony gaze. You know he doesn’t trust you. You don’t think he’d willingly trust any Slytherin. Since you’ve been at Hogwarts, the talk in your house has always been that Sirius Black shuns his family because they’re all Slytherins. Although James assures you there’s more to the story than that, it’s still obvious to anyone that he considers his friends his true family. He won’t entrust just anyone with James’ safety. But maybe that’s one thing you can agree upon.

He must see something of this in your face, because after a minute Sirius relents, rolling his eyes. “Fine,” he says. “I wanted to stop by the kitchens anyway.”

James is looking between the two of you curiously, aware that something has transpired but not quite sure what.

You don’t give Sirius a chance to change his mind. “Alright,” you say, gripping James' forearms and helping him to stand. “Let’s go, pretty boy.”

James drapes his arm across your shoulders gamely, and the two of you start out the door. “I don’t think that’s the insult you think it is.”

1K notes · View notes

youtellmeman · 4 months

Note

Hello ma’am 😈 I am here to request 😈 I’m thinking neteyam and reader are like enemies😡 they do not like each other okay but somewhere somehow they accidentally perform tsaheylu with each other and then they bang 😦

Yuh first request done-zo I really enjoyed writing this so i hope you like it.

Neteyam Sully x Fem!Na'vi!reader

Rated R

includes- smut, ma as a pet name, baby as a pet name, fingering, p in v, dirty talk, fem genitailia, accidental tsaheylu

In this tsaheylu is only explicitly erotic the first time around and it can be used to simply better understand what your mate is thinking/feeling.

Na'vi word translations

tiwan- love, wiya- damn, tewng- loincloth, knalu- fuck, Uvang- damn, skxwang- moron,imu’ta- bitch

italics= spoken in na'vi

Hating Neteyam, had been easy. After all it was all you'd ever known when it came to the blue boy. You’d always seen him as so, so irritating.

He always thought he knew better, better than his siblings, better than the other kids in the village, and better than you. That being eldest son to the Olo’eyktan made him so much smarter than those his age and unfortunately it seemed that trait would follow him to his grave as even now, after being accepted into the clan as an adult,he held himself to be so all knowing.

“What are you doing out here?” the voice came from behind you, his voice. “This area of the forest is dangerous, you should have someone with you.”

“Why, because I am incapable of taking care of myself?” It's a loaded question,but you can't help the way he is so quick to get under your skin. Whipping around to meet his citron eyes, raising a brow when you hear him scoff to himself.

“Why must you make everything into conflict?”

“Why must you be an imu’ta who refuses to let me live in peace.” I bite back and the air between us grows tense, eyes boring into eachothers waiting for one of us to break.

“Damn it, you are so difficult for what? I am simply looking out for you, it is dangerous, we both know this.” he huffs angrily out his nose and his tail thumbs against the ground with his growing anger.

“Have you considered that perhaps I don’t need anyone looking out for me? Especially not you, now leave me be and let me hunt in peace.” You roll your eyes and without waiting for a response you start to walk. Slinging your bow over your shoulder as you search for a new, quiet place to hunt.

“How dare you turn your back to me!” You can hear his steps speeding up after you resulting in your pace speeding as well until he manages to catch you. His slender fingers wrapping around your wrist spinning you face him. “You dare disrespect the future-”

“Future! You said it yourself!” You cut him off hissing the words at him angrily, “You hold no authority over me Neteyam so cease this useless display of power. Power that you do not have.” You spit. And maybe if you’d been less focused on the current shouting match you were having you would’ve noticed the small hand wrapping around your queue.

“Regardless of whatever you may think I am owed respect!” He snarls back and before you can you feel a sudden rush through your system, something so new yet familiar and immediately your eyes leave Neteyams face to focus on finding what's caused this surge of energy and what you can only describe as feeling. You find it immediately, honing in the little blue hand wrapped around your queue, your queue that was currently connected to, to…

“Tuktirey!” It's Neteyams voice that cuts through the silence though you can barely hear him,you can barely hear him with the wave of shock that flows through your body clogging your ears like water.

You can tell he's scolding her for a minute or two before she's shooed away, leaving you two alone still connected and you can feel it starting to ebb its way to the surface, the lust. Pupils blown wide as you find Neteyams eyes once more.

You can't find the words to ask why in the world Tuk would think that it’d be okay to connecther brother and yourself. All you can do is search his face and body for any sign he’s feeling what you are, and boy do you find it. Whether it be the rapid rise and fall of his chest or the tent in his tewng growing by the second.

Opening your mouth trying to find the words but you fail once more, or really you're cut off by the feeling of lips against yours as his hand finds its way to the base of your neck holding you close while the other pulls you in by the waist. And as his hips slot themselves so perfectly against yours you try to find some sliver of restraint, a tiny ounce of strength that will let you rip yourself away from him. You come up empty handed.

Hands finding their way to his hair pulling at the roots as you press him closer, pulling a heavenly groan from his lips.You find yourself pulling him back with you until your back meets tree, pulling back for a ragged breath.

“Holy mother.” You huff out in between breaths, Neteyam on the other hand has let his mouth wander from your jaw to neck, sucking dark purple marks onto the sensitive skin about your collar bone intermittently letting his fangs drag against the new purple markings, before coming back up. Neteyam kisses like he wants to consume you completely, it's a mess of teeth and spit as you both battle for dominance, it’s when he bites at your bottom lip that you give up on grasping at the reins letting him take complete control.

As your mouths clash Neteyam gets busy with his hands pulling the knot at the side of your loincloth before hoisting one of your legs up into his hip. Letting the arm that's not holding your leg slide between your bodies, finger sliding down your slick dampened lips, moving between tracing around your clit to moving downward to tease at your fluttering entrance. He does this a few times before you grow tired of his teasing. Pulling back to let your head rest on the bark of the tree.

“Quit it and do something, or are you just as incapable of pleasing a woman as you are at leaving me alo- ohh!” A surprised moan escapes your lips before you can finish the taunt.

“Wiya, you talk a lot.” The smug look that covers his face would have you rolling your eyes if you weren’t so focused on trying to keep them open enough to see anything at all. The annoying bastard had slipped in a finger while you were mouthing off, curling it to hit that spongy sweet spot within while letting his thumb rub lazy circles on your bud. “If I knew all it’d take to shut you up would be to stick a finger in you I woulda done it long ago.” He’s the one taunting now.

“Shut up you skxwang- hah- For you to think I would’ve ever let you touch me like this before. You clearly don’t know everything you claim.” You bite back best you can, and while you know your words hardly have any merit while you’re literally humping the palm of his land looking for more.

“Such a smart fucking mouth, lets see how that changes after I have you cumming around my fingers, hmm?” He leans close while growling out his retort, sliding in another finger as he speaks. And god, it should be criminal that it's him making you feel so incredibly good.

“Fuck Neteyam.” You whimper out and his fingers speed up their unrelenting attack, consistently hitting that sweet spot and thumb moving so quickly against that bundle of nerves it has your knees ready to buckle. “Shit, I-I need more.” You're whining against his neck now, head resting against his shoulder as he continues his assault and you can feel his chest rumble with the groan that leaves his lips.

“You want my cock baby? You want it real bad?” You can only imagine the pride on his face , but none of that matters right now, not when you really really do. So all you can do is nod as moans and groans slip from your lips at the thought.

“No, need to hear you say it. You had so much to say earlier ma , what happened?” It’s the smugness in his voice that leads you to fight against what he wants from you.

“Fuck you.” It’s practically a pant as you pull your head back from the crevice of his neck and rest it against the tree that has you sandwiched between Neteyam. Peering at him from your lidded eyes.

“Tsk tsk, not what I asked for.” He shakes his head and the small grin he wears is nothing but predatory. “You want to cum by my hands, you're gonna do what I say. " The pace he's picked up at the point is unforgiving, his fingers barely even thrust the tips simply rubbing against your most sensitive spot in a way that has you seeing stars and you can feel the coil in your stomach growing dangerously taut. But it's like he can see it on your face that you're growing close, and unfortunately he stands true to his words because as soon as you feel yourself about to teeter over the edge he stops. Leaving you withering against him.

“Nete-”

“Say it.” There's no room for negotiation in his tone, “Say it or you don’t get to cum and if you dont cum on my fingers first you sure as hell aren't getting my cock.”

It's almost pathetic how quick your resolve crumbles.

“I want you, please. Neteyam I want you please.”

“Say you need it.” Now he's just being mean cause he can.

“Fucking hell, need your cock so bad Neteyam, please.” Your breathing is ragged as you practically beg and he can hear the aggravation behind your voice.

“Not so hard is it, Tiyawn?” He quips as his fingers start to move again, thumb finding your clit as his index and middle continue the assault on the inside. And with you being so close prior it doesn’t take nearly anytime at all before your ether again, on the edge of complete euphoria just needing one last push. Push coming in the form of the third finger that ends up slamming into you, filling you up so completely and sending you crashing into waves of ecstasy. Hands finding his shoulders, nails leaving crescent marks in the blade of it as you ride your orgasm. Neteyam helps you through it, paying attention to your complete reaction while his fingered pump inside of you.

Sliding out once he's sure you’ve enjoyed the best of it,dropping your hip to your side, giving you one more openmouthed kiss before spinning you around leaving you to brace yourself on the tree that was once digging into your back. His hand finds the small of your back pushing you to be bent, arching subconsciously, readying yourself for what's to come.

You look over your shoulder just in time to see him rip the string of his tewng in a rush to move it out the way, letting his length spring up and hit his stomach.

To say that Neteyam was well endowed would be an understatement, youd heard rumors before but holy mother they didn’t do him justice. He made eye contact with you as he grabbed himself by the base getting ready to line himself up with your core.

“Like what you see?” And of course he’s cocky about this too. Neteyam raises a playful eyebrow.

“Thought you'd be bigger.” It's a lie, but you can't let his ego go unchecked. Though it doesn't seem too much as he simply sucks his teeth in response, letting a toothy grin spread across his face.

“Mhm, that’s why I can see you clenching at the sight of it then?” He retorts, still smiling as he moves, letting his tip slide between your lips, catching at your entrance. A move that has both of you shuddering in anticipation.

“Neteyam!” you whine out tired of waiting, pushing your ass back with a wiggle in anticipation and to hopefully get him to act sooner.

“Fuck, yeah okay i'm coming.” You can hear him mutter behind you. Properly lining himself this time before pushing in slowly, the girth of his head alone has you gasping for air. He’s slow to work himself in, not wanting to let his desperation for release lead to you being hurt. Eventually however he does bottom out and once he does the both of you let out sighs of relief. He gives you a moment to adjust before beginning to move, pulling back to grind back into you.

Usually this soft caring pace would leave you purring, but this is Neteyam and the fact that he just spent his time finger fucking you so good you see stars just to treat you like glass has you grinding your teeth in want for more.

“More.” You demand throwing a lust filled glare over your shoulder.

“Uvang, you feel so tight around me.” You're not even sure Neteyam heard you, his brows are pulled together and eyes scrunched in pleasure.

“Knalu Neteyam, harder!” You snap, punctuating your sentence by pushing back onto his cock which seems to break his trance.

“Eywa, why can't you let me enjoy this in peace?” His nostrils flare and eyes snap open boring into your own. Leaning forward he braces holds you by your shoulders. Sliding out till only his head is left inside of you before slamming back into you with enough strength to bruise. Switching from his heart shatteringly slow movement to thrusts that could shake Pandora itself. Thrusts that leave you gasping for air that's being knocked out of your lungs with every slam of his hips into yours.

“Oh Eywa! Neteyam fuck, yes!” Your moans are practically prayers as they fill the air around you, Not that he's being any quieter than you are. Moaning and groaning as he leans down to press wet kisses to your spine.

“Shit you feel so good Ma, fucking hell. Its like you were made to be wrapped around my cock, my perfect fucking pussy for the taking ain’t that right. ‘M gonna ruin you baby, mold this cunt to my cock. No one else could make you feel this good right Ma, c'mon tell me i'm right.” It’s hard to make out most of his rambles as he ruts into you like something feral, but you manage nonetheless.

“Fuck, yes Neteyam no one’s as good as you. No one could make me feel- oh my- feel half as good as you, shit!” You say back telling him whatever he wants to hear, telling him the truth. And it has him speeding up at which point you thought was impossible as he continues to ramble on and on about how good you feel around him against the skin of your back. One of his hands manage to find their way around your waist and to your clit, rubbing tight circles while his noises grow more animalistic by the minute and it has you fluttering around him causing him to twitch within you. The both of your peaks growing increasingly closer.

“I'm gonna cum, Net, fuck dont stop!” you warn him of your upcoming release and you can feel the way the knowledge fuels him, his grip on your shoulder tightening as he drills into you with fervor.

“Cum for me tiwan, wanna feel you cum around me, cmon.” He urges you on and soon enough it comes. Surginging through you like electricity, punctuated by a high pitched whine as your legs tremble. Neteyam fucking you through it fighting to hold off his own upcoming orgasm in lew of making sure you can enjoy yours to the fullest and soon enough you start to come down, the way you clench becoming softer and more spaced out as you begin to take deep breaths in order to ground yourself.

It only takes a few more pumps before the euphoria is hitting him like a splash of cold water and he’s quick to pull out and spill his seed on the curve of your ass and back, groaning your name slowly as he works his way through it.

Eventually you both restore enough air in your lungs to disconnect yourselves and get cleaned up. Finding a small and unoccupied pond to wash his essence of yourself along with the sweat you'd worked up along the way before slipping your clothes back on and helping him repair the string of his loincloth well enough that it would not fall off on his trek through the village.

Still once you're both clothed you both take a few moments to be together and fully grasp the fact of what this connection means for the both of you. It's then that you finally find the words you’d lost earlier.

“Why did tuk do it? Why did she connect us?” You ask, your eyes finding his in confusion.

“Our parents.” He starts, “ Sometimes they fight and sometimes when they do they perform tsaheylu. In order to better understand what the other is feeling. She thought it would help us ‘get along’” he finishes explaining and you can't help but laugh at the childlike innocence of it all.

“How sweet in theory I suppose.” You smile up at him stifling a few laughs.

“Yeah,” he chuckles, “Remind me to thank her when we get back.” At that you roll your eyes and smack him in the shoulder. “Hey!”

——————

Let me know what you think

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465 notes · View notes

captainfern · 11 months

Note

hey captain, it’s me again. I have come to repent from my sins by requesting your blessing with a jealous dbf!price that doesn’t like other “man” (aka boys) around you.

Thank you for your service captain 🫡

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Marigold pt. 3

dbf!Captain John Price x fem!reader

[“Marigold” by Nirvana]

[18+]

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• summary - what the request says but price shows you how jealous he is lol. • rating - 18+ • wordcount - 1.8k • warnings - fem!reader, dad’sbestfriend!price, established relationship?, age gap [whatever you want it to be as long as it's legal lmao], jealous!price, possessive!price, unprotected piv, strong language

mmmmm look at that nose— yooooo what????? girl who said that oh my goddddd... 😏

a longer dbf!price fic will happen soon i’ve just got to start writing it LMAO

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Price never used to be a jealous man.

Past relationships came and went and he never found himself jealous if they spent time with other men, or had male co-workers or friends taking up a portion of their time.

It never bothered him, because he wasn't self-conscious. He knew that, at the end of the day, they'd come home to him.

But something changed within him. The past few months of building this secret relationship with you changed something within him.

Maybe it was the fact you were younger than him, thereby attracting younger men who, from knowledge, Price knew were total fuckheads. Or maybe it was the fact that you were just so nice— so polite, so smiley, such a good girl.

Upon re-evaluation, Price determined it was probably a mix of those two things.

The past week had been taking a toll on him. Watching the way you seemed to attract fucking idiots that fawned after you, showed off to you, all with the hopes of getting into your pants. Price knew you weren't dumb enough to let these morons get what they wanted, but the thought still made his jaw tick.

Today, especially, had him on the edge of his fucking seat. Not in excitement, or anticipation for anything. But because he was this close to ripping the trachea out of this guys throat beside you.

Price's best mate, your dad, invited some other friends around for a couple of drinks. They were mutual friends with Price, too, so he knew what he was expecting when two of them showed up. But he wasn't expecting one of them to bring their young adult son.

"This is Grayson," the friend introduced to your dad. "You don't mind that he came along, do you?"

"Of course not, mate. The more the merrier." Your dad said, offering Grayson a beer as everyone gravitated towards the living room, settling in on the couches there.

Not long after, you came home from work. Your eyes found Price's as soon as you walked through the door, and Price noticed the way your lips quirked at the corners, fighting a smile. Your dad was beckoning you into the living room before the smile could fully settle on your face.

And that's how you ended up here. Sitting on the couch across from Price, resting against the plush armrest. That cunt Grayson— stupid fucking name, anyway— sat beside you. Price saw how well the two of you hit it off. He saw how he made you smile with small joking remarks, how he kept you interested about whatever stupid fucking thing he was talking about. He made you smile, and nod, and laugh, and ask him more questions about his life.

The grasp Price had on his glass of whiskey was turning white-knuckled. If the force increased anymore, the tumbler would shatter.

Grayson dropped flirty remarks as the night progressed, your dad too engrossed in his own conversation to shield his daughter from the ridiculous amount of jokes and chat-up lines.

One thing that did stop Price from beating the shit out of Grayson in front of everyone was that you weren't flirting back. You were being nice, polite, but you shot down each one-liner with a cheeky quip, or a roll of your eyes. But, what pissed Price off was that Grayson, the dumb fuck, couldn't take the fucking hint.

"Hey, you want to come outside and get some fresh air?" Grayson asked you, already half off the couch.

"Um..." You hesitated, eyes flicking subtly over to Price.

He grit his teeth and shook his head, raising his tumbler of whiskey to his lips as he did so.

"Um... I'm okay for now." You said politely, smiling sweetly.

"Okay, no worries. I'll be outside if you change your mind." Grayson returned the smile, then left the room, heading for the front porch.

You fidgeted with your hands on your lap, avoiding Price's eyes. He was looking at you over the rim of his glass, and his stare was hot. So hot, you were starting to feel stuffy.

"I... I'm just going to pop outside..." You cleared your throat, telling your father.

"Alright, honey, see you soon." Your dad waved you off, not giving you much attention after that.

Ignoring Price's stare, you quickly shuffled across the room. You heard heavy footsteps behind you, and you tried not to squeal when you made it into the semi-seclusion of the entrance hall. You knew who it was.

You had a hand on the front door handle when Price's hand engulfed yours, pinning it there. His body pressed to yours, keeping your front pinned against the solid wood door. His chest heaved against your back, and you took a deep breath to try and soothe your nerves. It didn't help, since you could just smell him.

Price did much the same. He didn't even have to take a deep breath to smell your perfume, your shampoo, your everything. A smell he had grown obsessed with these past few months.

"Where're you going?" He asked, lips brushing the shell of your ear.

"Outside..." You whispered, flinching when a burst of laughter erupted from the living room, just metres away.

"Why?"

"Just... just to get some fresh air."

"Is that right?" The hand around yours squeezed gently. "No other reason?"

You shook your head, body growing warm at the closeness of the two of you.

Price hummed, sceptical.

"Do you not trust me?" You bit out, trying to keep your voice level.

"Oh, sweetheart, of course I trust you," he said, other hand grabbing your hip and pushing your backside into his pelvis. "But I don't trust him."

With that, he let go of you and took a small step back. You felt like you could finally breathe again. You turned to face him, your back now leaning against the door.

"Are... you jealous, Price?"

Price cocked his heat, swiping his tongue over hit lower lip in thought, eyes locked to yours.

"Jealous...?" He whispered slowly as if he was tasting the word.

You waited for his reply, raising your eyebrows expectantly. "Mhm."

He chuckled lowly, shaking his head and finally breaking eye contact, looking at the floor for a moment. When he looked back up at you, his smile faded.

"I am," he said simply. His tone was dark. "You wanna know why?"

You nodded, another loud spurt of laughter sounding from your living room. It made your eyes dart to the doorway briefly.

"Look at me." Price whispered.

You did.

"I'm jealous because I don't like little fuckheads like him thinking he has a chance with you," he said. "I don't like boys flirting with you. Talking to you like you're theirs. D'you understand that?"

You forced yourself to nod stiffly. Was it weird you were turned on by this conversation?

"So, if you want to go outside with him, sweetheart, then be my guest," Price gestured at the door. "But if you do, he won't be leaving here with working legs."

You gaped at him.

"Or a working cock, for that matter."

"Oh my god, Price." You whisper-yelled at him.

You pressed your thighs together, butterflies in your stomach. Was it sick that this was making you horny? You had so many questions for yourself at this point.

"So?" He implored casually, if he hadn't just threatened to turn off Grayson's fucking legs. "Are you going to go outside, or—?"

"Or what?" You whispered. It was meant to be challenging. But it probably sounded pathetic as the heat in your core increased.

"Or are you going to come upstairs?"

•º•

"Mmpf— mmm—"

"Shh, come on, sweetheart, quiet." Price cooed in your air, leaning over your back as he fucked you hard against your bed.

He had a hand to the back of your head, pushing your head into your pillows. His other hand was on your hip with a bruising hold, slamming your arse back onto him, ramming his cock into you over and over.

"Mmm— mhm—" You tried to speak to him. Tried to moan, tried to sob, tried anything.

But he continued to rut into you at an animalistic pace. The only sounds you could hear was the faint slapping of skin, and the subtle wet shlicks when his cock fucked deeper into your wet heat.

"You don't want Grayson hearing you, right?" Price whispered, dragging his teeth along the top of your spine. "You don't want him to hear how good you're getting fucked. Don't want him to hear how wet this cunt is and how fucking desperate it is for my cock. Do you, sweetheart?"

"Un-uhhmmm—" That was meant to be a no.

"S'what I thought," Price increased his pace, dragging his cock hard against your gummy walls, literally pounding you into your mattress. "You're— fuck— you're mine. No one else gets to hear your pretty sounds, or gets to fuck your pretty cunt, but— ah, fuck— me, yeah? Just... fucking... me."

Each word was punctuated by a hard thrust that hit that spot inside you perfectly, and your entire body shuddered as you came around him, crying into your pillows.

He continued to rut into you, grunting deep from his chest, his body curled atop yours while pinning you to your mattress. He cursed, muttering your name around a grunting moan as he came inside you. You whined at the sensation, your cunt clenching around him, milking his release. He groaned, kissing down your back before he pulled out. You felt yourself shiver at the emptiness.

"You alright, sweetheart?" Price asked, gently flipping you onto your back, massaging up your sides.

"Mhm..." You hummed, blinking lazily at the ceiling.

He leaned over you and placed a couple of soft kisses to your mouth. "Was I too rough?"

"No, no, you were good," you reassured him. "Really good. I promise."

"Okay..." Price kissed you again, deeper this time, tongue running along the seam of your lips.

Before the kiss could progress further:

"Price, mate, you up there?" Came your dad's voice from the bottom of the stairs, and both you and Price froze.

Price cleared his throat, shouting back: "Yeah, mate. Just going to the bathroom!"

"Hurry up then! The game's about to start!"

Price shot you an apologetic look as he clambered off of you and began to dress hurriedly. You watched him from your bed.

"There's nothing to be jealous of, Price," you said suddenly, and he paused his actions of buckling his belt. "I only want you."

He grinned, sly, cocking his head. "That so?"

You nodded, smiling with your teeth snagged on your bottom lip in a gesture of bashfulness.

His grin grew while he threw his shirt on. "Good. I only want you, too."

"That so?" You mimicked him, and he chuckled, crossing the room.

He took your head in both of his hands and kissed you. He stroked your cheeks with his thumbs when he pulled away.

"What am I going to do with you..." He tutted, shaking his head.

"A lot of things, hopefully."

"Fucking hell. You'll be the death of me, sweetheart."

•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•

#captainfern #captainfernsalutes #call of duty #call of duty mw2 #captain john price #captain price #fem reader #captain price smut #price x reader #captain john price x female reader #captain’snirvana #john price #captain john price x you #captain john price smut

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shurisneakers · 4 months

Text

unsolved (i)

Summary: Bucky doesn't even believe in the paranormal. So who the hell thought it was a good idea to stick him in a series about everything haunted for the internet's amusement? With his loose-canon of a teammate who has no concept of subtlety or any shits left to give, to make things even worse. (Buzzfeed unsolved AU)

Warnings: swearing, frustrated bucky at his little shit supreme, Very Loud reader, images and memes that all have alt texts.

A/N: yes this is literally harmless in a different font. do not ask me if anything doesn't make sense. i cannot explain. i resurface every 3 years to present you with ideas born from menty b's. ANYWAY shout out to my beloved ryan and shane. pls enjoy <3

Bucky doesn’t appeal to the youths.

Apparently.

On God, he cannot fathom why.

He had definitely left the house in the last six months, maybe. Smiled in at least two pictures that existed on the internet. He even knew what Discord was. Sort of.

By all accounts, he should be treated as the modern day icon that he was.

“The youths?” he repeats, the word so foreign on his tongue it felt odd to even say it.

“Your numbers are the lowest of the whole team.” The latest tech-dude, with a tablet twelve models ahead of the one Bucky had in his room, tells him monotonously. “Wilson, Romanoff and Barton score the highest. Everyone else lies around the middle. You are dead-last.”

Bucky has the audacity to look offended.

“Anything to say?” Their PR head, Maya, asks him, amused.

He stares, formulating the wittiest one liner he could in three seconds.

“I don’ care,” he mumbles.

Maya sighs. “Look, the team took the decision together. As far as I’m aware, you are still a member. You need some PR if you guys want to stay in the public’s good books.”

“No one’s gonna listen to me.” Bucky wasn’t exactly the poster child for American values. He couldn’t even vote until three years ago, and that came only after the full wrath of a Steve Rogers descended on the email inbox of the DMV.

“That’s why it’s important to get them to like you,” Maya emphasizes. “Or the idea of you at least. A very sanitized, corporate friendly version.”

His eyebrow twitches unintentionally.

“And also you signed the contract.”

Well. Shit.

Truth be told– and he has openly and rather loudly stated this on numerous occasions even especially when no one asked– he doesn’t understand why they need a PR team. The world has calmed down significantly over the last few years. Bucky hadn’t really been out crime-fighting as much as he was people-watching. There hasn’t been an earth-shatteringly dystopian-level event in the longest time, and there seemed to be a group of spandex-clad teenagers who seemed to do a good job at taking care of them when they did threaten to occur. Go kids.

Even if they needed PR, he could arguably understand the appeal of Sam and Nat and why the people would want to see more of them. Bucky, on the other hand, looked like he crawled onto Earth most days of the week.

“What do I have to do?” he asks ultimately, knowing there was no way to get out of this. “Interviews?”

The intern shares a look with Maya. Bucky shares a look with the ceiling.

“The team agreed to do a series of videos, each focusing on a different niche,” she begins, “Crash courses on science, pointing out mistakes in spy movies. Once a week.”

Bucky nods along. He can pinpoint Bruce and Nat for those.

Maya stares at him.

Bucky stares back.

“So,” she says slowly, like he’s a moron, “you would–”

“No.”

The intern sighs heavily like they discussed that this was going to happen. Bucky was getting predictable. This annoys him even further, for some reason.

“Only once a week, and it doesn’t have to be anything crazy–”

“I’m not doing videos,” he interjects. “I’ll tweet a few times. I’ll even go outside. But ’m not doin’ videos.”

A big step was to get the Avengers off Twitter after the regular shit-storm that occurs every time they’d quote-tweet another politician calling them shitheads. Getting them back on seems counterproductive.

“Fine,” Maya relents, looking at the intern. “We'll work something out.”

Bucky leans back in his chair, and meditating on ways he can weasel his way out of those too.

So they stick him in a couple of interviews.

Bucky, as the recluse extraordinaire that he was, does unsurprisingly terrible at them.

Variety does a piece on him that was supposed to take up 2 pages. They send back half a page worth of usable material and Bucky gets a lecture on how monosyllables don't count as answers.

He grunts in return. Maya’s itch to smack his shoulder with the rolled up draft increases.

They set him up for pap walks. Just him getting fast food for the team, or sitting in the park.

They don’t take into account that Bucky was trained professionally for years on how to hide, sneak in and out of places without a soul knowing he was ever there.

The paparazzi spend three hours waiting for him outside the pizza place, while he’s been home for two hours with two demolished pepperonis and an order of mozzarella sticks.

They give him access to his Twitter.

He tweets some dumb shit and gets shadow banned by that evening.

Maya is sick and tired, and the interns have shifted three times since the whole ordeal started. Bucky honestly feels a little bad. Maybe he should try to be like Scott, who not only wrote a book, finger-gunned at photographers, did an interview a week, but also agreed to a podcast and a video series about literally anything they suggested.

“Play nice,” Sam tells Bucky one evening.

It’s an off-hand comment, not even really looking at him while he says it.

Bucky doesn’t need to ask what he’s referring to, but he thinks that maybe he has gone too far.

He begrudgingly agrees.

Therefore, it begins.

They stick him in the background of a few videos. Just to interact, add his commentary on what was going on, suggestions.

Then the jokes really start.

“I just don’t got anything to add,” Bucky tries, in a failure of an attempt to justify his lack of contribution.

Maya only stares at him, but Bucky swears he can hear her curse quietly, even though her lips don’t move even a millimeter.

He is not put in another video.

And so he finds himself here.

In a meeting room that he’s convinced is barricaded from the outside so he can’t slither out the door again. Another intern with pink-tinted glasses that took up half their face.

Maya’s in the midst of explaining to him that sure, his numbers had gone up by a decimal, but that was because people had started editing him into the backgrounds of other pictures for other users to find in a perplexing take on Where’s Waldo.

“Videos seem to be working,” she ties it together. “But we need more than you just standing silently behind Captain Rogers.”

“But it’s working,” Bucky objects. “I don’t see why it has to change.”

Maya sends him a glare. Bucky decides then it’s good to shut up.

“Are you on the internet a significant amount?” the intern asks. The glasses on their face have changed colours to green. Bucky’s eyebrow furrows.

“No.”

For the next thirty minutes, he is subjected to a pop quiz about too many words ending with ‘core’, ‘coded’ and ‘eras’. He’s surprised that he knows what cottagecore is. He definitely doesn’t fucking know what a tomatogirl, nor does he want to.

“What do you like doing?” the intern enunciates, pulling up a spreadsheet of niches that had built a dedicated community around themselves over the years. “Makeup? Cleaning? Parkour?”

Bucky wonders if they’d really create a montage of him just micro cleaning the kitchen every week. It doesn’t sound half bad.

Beyond that, the only thing he can think of is woodworking, which Sam introduced him to. While he spends time creating little figures, he wouldn’t say it was–

“You really are dead silent,” the intern breaks his train of thought, tone almost that of wonder. “Guess the whole ‘ghost story for seventy years’ is more true than I thought.”

Bucky throws him a weary look, and works on unclenching the fist that tightened involuntarily.

“Was that necessary?” Maya’s voice comes coldly. “Take fifteen. Go find the other one we were supposed to meet.”

While sheepish and somewhat apologetic, the kid still looks relieved to be out of there. To be honest, Bucky isn’t really offended– he’s grown a thick skin over the years. But he also thought the guy was a little shit now.

Maya turns back to him, but Bucky finds that the table contains wonders far more interesting than the conversation at hand.

“Back to what we were talking about.” She ruffles through something on her laptop. “Puppets? History?”

He wordlessly shakes his head.

Been the former, seen too much of the latter.

Maya’s head tilts abruptly. “You like ghosts?”

He wonders if the prior conversation had anything to do with this insightful question.

Bucky shrugs. “Don’t exist.”

“Really,” Maya deadpans. “Aliens and multiversal baboons are fine, but no ghosts.”

“I’ve seen aliens and multiversal baboons. Never seen a ghost in my life,” Bucky argues right back.

“Other people have seen ghosts.”

“Good for other people.”

The door swings open right as Maya’s eyes narrow at him. Guess it wasn’t padlocked.

“Whatever it is you think I did, Maya, I didn’t. I think,” you announce in a volume too much for a closed room, stopping when you see Bucky sitting cross-armed and looking delightfully disgruntled. “Oh hey, Barnes. Fancy seeing you here.”

Bucky had met you. The newest addition to the team that had made a grand entrance a couple of weeks ago. He thinks you stay on the floor below him, but he has nothing backing this hypothesis other than the disco funk music that had started appearing at odd hours of the night.

“Please sit,” Maya cracks a smile at you that Bucky had yet to earn. “Sorry, I know our meeting is scheduled for later, but I figured we could kill two birds with one stone.”

You look between her and Bucky, who hasn’t moved an inch since you got here, much less even said hello.

“You must be really bad if Maya had to call me in,” you tell him outright. “I’m usually like, her last option.”

“Thanks,” Bucky replies dryly.

“Look, here’s my final pitch.” Maya sighs, before turning to you. “You’re new, and we need something to introduce you slowly to the public.”

“Oh, am I finally getting hard launched?” You grin, and Bucky doesn’t know what that means. “Just imagine me kicking my feet, giggling or whatever.”

“And he needs… an upgrade.” Maya’s thumb juts out towards Bucky who simply rolls his eyes.

“Right.” Your sight lands on him from across the table. “I’ve seen the memes.”

“What memes?” he grunts, because while the team had definitely seen them, it didn't occur to anyone they should show it to him. He loves them. Really. So much. Die for them.

You only look too happy to pull out your phone and start typing.

“Do you know what skinwalkers are?”

“No.”

“That’s what they say you look like, lurking in the back of all your friends’ videos,” you continue, swerving around your phone to show him.

Bucky doesn’t look impressed. He can’t say he blames them either, which makes him inexplicably maddens him.

“At least they’re calling you their boyfriend,” you add, entirely unhelpfully. “That’s gotta count.”

“Right.” Maya clears her throat. “The both of you–”

“Are getting paired together, I suppose,” you hum.

Bucky’s eyebrows pull together.

He barely knows you. Just a little bit on how you ended up here, that you enjoyed hanging out with the team, figuring out your place in the compound, and were seemingly doing a great job at it.

You were… loud. And open.

Bucky feels the compulsive need to compensate for that by doubling down on how silent he could get, as if the two of you couldn’t co-exist in the same space in equilibrium.

Maya pointedly raises a finger at you. “Do you believe in ghosts?”

“For the right price, I will believe in whatever you tell me to.”

Her face lights up brighter than Bucky's ever seen.

“Great.” Maya slams her laptop closed. “See you later.”

Bucky’s left staring as she exits, not even throwing the both of you another look.

“That was quick,” your voice cuts through the silence. “What was that all about?”

“Don’ ask me,” he grumbles, with a sinking feeling that he knew exactly what was about to follow.

“Ghost hunting?” Bucky echoes a week later, as expected.

“Yes,” Maya tells him simply. “Two of you. A series based on paranormal activity.”

“I don’t even believe in them,” he reiterates.

“That’s the point,” she emphasises. “Skeptic and believer. It makes for a good contrast.”

“Why us both?” He hopes it doesn’t come off as offensive. He just doesn’t see why he can’t do this with Sam. Even Clint, if a gun was really pressed to his head.

“I’m new, no one gives a shit about me,” you say brightly and full of promise. “Yet.”

“Exactly. It’ll be low key. Not an overwhelming number of viewers, no expectations. It’s perfect for launching one Avenger and re-launching another.”

“Sounds rad.” You grin, leaning back as your feet rest on the chair in front of you.

Maya looks relieved for a moment that at least one of you was on board. “No promises on anything. We shoot one video, and if it does well, we stick with it.”

“What if I don’t want to?” Bucky argues.

“Then you have until tomorrow morning to give us another feasible idea,” Maya dishes back.

Bucky retreats into his seat, arms crossed over his chest.

Truth be told, he considered himself to be the most boring person in the team and though he had made his peace with that, he was sure thar bringing that up now would entail Maya shooting him in the foot.

“Fine,” he agrees and the sighs around the room are loud.

He scoffs. So fucking dramatic and for what.

“Put her there, partner.” You stretch ungracefully over the large table, sticking out your hand.

Bucky eyes your hand. “Do you even believe in ghosts?”

“I do now, yeah.” You nod seriously. “Love ‘em. Can’t get enough of them.”

“One video,” Maya reminds him as a balm. “And if it doesn’t work, you’re off the hook forever.”

Off the hook? Forever? For Bucky?

Yay.

“One video,” he reiterates.

You roll your eyes before smiling when he leans forward to grab it. You yank it up and down clunkily. He blinks at you, letting go slowly.

“Thank fuck,” Maya groans, head dropping onto the table.

Your smile is wild. “Guess we’re doing this shit together.”

He doesn’t even have to look very deep in his soul. He already knows he’s going to suffer.

here’s my ko-fi if you’d like to support my writing!

to keep up with updates for this fic and others, please follow @shurisneakersupdates and turn on post notifications!

also i'd absolutely love to make this a community led fic like how harmless was! if you have memes or any paranormal ideas or just any prompts in general, please please send them my way <3

Next part

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #mcu fic #bucky fic #bucky barnes fic #bucky fluff #bucky barnes fluff #bucky angst #bucky barnes angst #unsolved fic #winter soldier x reader #Winter Soldier #bucky barnes #bucky

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blegh-110 · 9 days

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iii. "im not a princess, this aint a fairytale"

Pairing: older brother's best friend!Sam x fem!reader

Summary: Older brother’s best friend!Sam Monroe who was the first to break your heart when you were 14 and he was 16.

Warnings: None!

Word Count: 1.5k

Next Part

You were ecstatic when you entered high school, there were more opportunities for you to see Sam instead of only seeing him when he came over. The night before your first day you imagined all the ways you could possibly see him; in the hallways, having lunch together, maybe and hopefully just one class together.

And your first semester didn’t disappoint. The first few weeks were equally nerve-wracking and exciting. As you were entering a brand new, bigger school, you didn’t know where your classes were. And you got lost often, getting swept away by the larger crows in the narrow halls into some part of the school you had never been in. But Sam was somehow always there to save you by grabbing your heavy textbooks in one hand, your hand in the other and quickly leading you to your class.

“I know it’s hard, but you have to push your way through these assholes. Especially the ones who stand right in the middle of the fucking hall.” And he gestured to the group who were indeed standing in the middle of the hall and walked right through them, taking you with him. You apologized to the girl you shouldered.

“Sam, we could’ve just gone around them!”

“Yeah, we could’ve. But what do they expect standing there?:

“I don’t think it’s that serious.”

“Yes it is, now's the time to learn how to put your foot down or they’ll walk all over you.”

Or when he helped you learn how to open your locker because you just couldn’t get it, “It’s clockwise, then counterclockwise but skip the second number, then go directly to the last number clockwise.”

Maybe the lockers were just old, but you remember the time when he was sure he got the combination right but it just wouldn’t open. And he kept trying, whispering “fuck you, fuck you.”

“Sam, my class is about to start, hurry!” You were only half serious, the other part of you couldn’t help but find his frustration and growing panic funny. You covered your laugh with your hand as he looked at you with wide eyes, “it’s not fucking opening.”

You burst out laughing when he finally got it open because it took him aggressively pulling at the lock and a fall to the ground.

And you loved walking to your third hour because the two of you would cross paths, and not a day would go by where he wouldn’t say hi with a small wave, and a gentle ruffle to your hair if he was close enough. You felt special because out of all the people and his own friends he’d see, you were the one he’d acknowledge.

But your favorite times together was when he would walk you home and carry your extremely heavy backpack for you. It was the best way to end the school day, the two of you recapping your days. How hard a test was, what you had for lunch, how annoying a particular teacher was, and any other anecdotes. You thought whatever the two of you were would only grow.

You weren’t exactly when it began happening, all you knew was that the boy you once got all starry eyed about was turning into the ones you didn’t like.

Maybe it was when he got into the wrong crowd, the ones who always stunk of smoke and ditched school. You found it strange when you saw him being friendly with a few of them since he was always the one who turned you away from them, “Promise me you won’t end up like one of those morons, (y/n). That stuff is too fucking vile for you.”

Or when he slowly stopped walking you home to go hang out with them. It made you sad but you understood that he couldn’t dedicate all of his time after school to you. He had his own friends and hobbies. But were you right to be concerned when you noticed he started cutting classes and skipping school to be with said friends? You caught him one time, trying to sneak away and he seemed surprised to see you had seen him.

“Hey, (y/n).”

“Hi, Sam. Where are you going?” You asked softly, not wanting to anger him. He just seemed so angry and jumpy these days.

“We’re just… gonna get an early lunch,” He could tell you didn’t really believe him when all you gave was a small, tight lipped smile and single head nod, he came closer and dipped his head down as he whispered “I’ll be back, I promise. And I’ll get you something if you keep quiet, okay?”

You felt like you didn’t have a choice, you obviously weren’t going to say no and force him to stay. And the bribe just didn’t seem right, it gave you a strange feeling in your gut.

“No, that’s okay. I, um, I really have to get to class.” And you left with a small smile and quick turn, wanting the entire interaction to be over. It was weird to see him this way, and it left a weight on your shoulders to just let him go. Should you have at least tried to stop him? You looked out the window and were even more upset to see your brother with that group as well. Maybe it was seeing both of them this way, but you had the sudden urge to cry.

Sam did end up getting you a large Dr. Pepper, but you just couldn’t will yourself to drink it and you threw it away.

With each passing day he was getting further and further away from you, but you continued to push through it, hoping that the boy who taught you how to ride a bike and saved your winter dance night was still in there. He had to be.

So you kept trying to talk to him. Which included helping him cut classes, reminding him of tests, telling him about your day. And maybe you were doing too much, and maybe you were embarrassing him in front of his cool friends. And maybe you should’ve expected such a response.

“Jesus, you are so fucking annoying. Don’t you have any of your own friends?”

That one hurt the most. It wasn’t just the fact that he knew you weren’t the most sociable girl. In fact, it was hard for you to talk to others and to keep a conversation going. So the answer was no.

It was also the angry look he gave you. The furrowed brows, clenched jaw, and the eye roll he gave when you didn’t answer. You’d never seen him this way. It was always playful smiles and soft words. The closest you had seen him this angry was when you didn’t bother to look both ways before crossing the street and you almost got run over, “you could’ve gotten killed, I shouldn’t have to tell you to look both ways when crossing a street.”

But that was tough love if anything, and he hugged you right after to calm you down because you were pretty shaken up and close to tears, “alright, that’s enough, you’re fine.”

You stood there in front of him, eyes wide and chest rising and falling rapidly, willing yourself to stay collected and calm while it felt like your whole world was crumbling in front of you.

“Just… stay the hell away from me.” And he left.

The rest of the day was a blur since Sam’s words left you dejected and shattered. You weren’t focused in your classes and didn’t pay any mind to what the people around you said. It was a constant replay of what he said to you and a constant fight to keep your emotions in. Who were you supposed to turn to for this?

You cried the entire night. You thought you were only being helpful, and to know that he actually saw you as a burden made you panic. For every little problem you had, you did end up going to him for help. For every stupid, little story you had, you ended up telling him. And when you felt lonely, you ended up going to him. But you couldn’t help it. Sam always seemed so happy to fix whatever issue it was you were having, and he looked like he was deeply interested in your trivial tales, and he was just so fun to be around. He was funny and kind and gentle and where is he now?

Or did he always feel that way and put up a good front? No, it couldn’t be that, it was too genuine. Did you happen to read too much into his actions? Possibly. Then you thought if the roles were reversed, kind of. If there was a younger girl in your life you certainly wouldn’t treat her meanly. You would always have a helping hand extended out just in case she needed it. Like a big sister.

These thoughts and questions swirled in your mind until you came to the conclusion that you were just a young girl very in love with the older boy who only saw you as his best friend's young sister. And that he was done entertaining her and moving with his own crowd.

It was this that finally opened your eyes and made you go to sleep. It was your turn now to grow up and move on.

divider by @dollywons

#hayden christensen #hayden christensen fluff #hayden christensen x reader #hayden christensen imagine #hayden christensen fanfiction #hayden christensen x you #hayden christensen x fem reader #hayden christensen x y/n #sam monroe #sam monroe fanfiction #sam monroe x reader #sam monroe imagine #sam monroe x y/n #sam monroe x you #sam monroe x fem reader #life as a house

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evansbby · 1 year

Text

𝐥𝐞𝐭'𝐬 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐲! (𝐢 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐠𝐨 𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐞) (𝒑𝒐𝒚𝒕 𝒅𝒓𝒂𝒃𝒃𝒍𝒆)

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: dark alpha!Steve Rogers x naive omega!reader

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: dark!Steve, possessive Steve, alcohol consumption, mentions of: inebriation. 18+ minors dni!

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Steve and omega find themselves at yet another frat party.

“You having fun, baby?” Steve whispers in your ear before he resumes pressing kisses down your neck. He’s got an almost finished beer in one hand, but his other hand is free to fondle you. He rubs up and down your bare arm before his fingers settle on your thigh and give it a squeeze.

You’re at another frat party with Steve, and they’ve become slightly more bearable now. But the loud, thumping music and the bazillion bodies crammed into one frat house still make you extremely nervous. As does the copious amounts of alcohol that everyone around you seems to be downing — especially Steve, who’s consumed about seven beers, plus plenty of shots (yes, you were keeping track).

“It’s alright.” You answer his question, hoping no one is watching while Steve practically devours your face and neck with sloppy kisses. He’s clearly a bit drunk. And of course, very horny, since he’d dragged you into this dim corner to make out about ten minutes ago. And you were thankful for the semi-privacy, because before that he’d been pawing at you and sticking his hands up your dress in front of everyone — which wasn’t ideal but Steve never cared what anyone else thought.

“Mm, doesn’t sound like you’re enjoying yourself.” He muses, bringing his beer up to your lips, “you sure you don’t want a taste, baby? To loosen you up a bit?” His pupils are dark and dilated, but there’s a glint in them all the same as he nudges the can against your lips. “C’mon, omega, one tiny sip?”

“No thank you, Steve,” you say politely, shooting him a pleading look. Alcohol of any kind still scares you and brings back bad memories, but you’re happy that at least Steve’s a happy drunk.

He shrugs and downs it himself. And then his eyes narrow and you follow his gaze towards a bunch of girls in the middle of the room. They’re clearly drunk, stumbling around and climbing on top of a table to dance.

“Stupid sluts.” Steve comments darkly, clutching you closer to him as if he thinks you’ll run and join them or something. “Those are the type of girls who’ll never find a mate. No alpha is interested in slutty attention-seekers like that, you understand?” He strokes your hair like you’re his pet, leaning down to give you another possessive kiss, “You’re lucky you’re nothing like them, baby. You’re sweet and innocent, and—”

“Steve! There you are! I’ve been looking for you all night! I was wondering if you could give me some feedback on my performance in the last football game?”

It’s Jake Jensen. He sidles up to the two of you with an eager grin on his face and a drink in his hand, and Steve mutters a string of curses against your lips.

“Go the fuck away, Jensen. What have I told you about approaching me outside of football?” Steve grunts, glaring meanly at the younger alpha. And then he pulls you closer against him with a firm, possessive arm around your waist.

Jensen’s face falls, “I just thought I played kind of well, you know? Thought I proved myself in your eyes, and I’d love if you could just tell me what you thought—”

“You’re the shittiest player on the team, Jensen.” Steve says nonchalantly and you wince. How mean! And it wasn’t even true, because you’d been to a few of Steve’s practices now and Jake seemed like he was a good player, in your opinion.

“Oh.” Jake looks crestfallen as he turns to leave. But someone bumps into him from behind, and in slow-motion, the drink in Jake’s hand spills all over you, seeping through your dress and soaking you down to the skin.

“JENSEN, YOU FUCKING MORON!” Steve explodes, pushing you behind him before he grabs a shell-shocked Jake by the collar, shaking the poor freshman boy till his glasses fall down his nose. “HOW FUCKING DARE YOU EMBARRASS MY GIRLFRIEND?!”

Jake looks white as a ghost, “I-I didn’t mean to—” he turns to you with a pleading look in his eyes, “I’m sorry! I’m really, really sorry!”

“It’s okay!” You squeak but you’re not sure anyone hears you. Steve growls angrily when he sees that Jake is talking directly to you. But what happens next is even worse. In his panicked state, Jake drunkenly fished out a handkerchief from his pocket and starts dabbing at your drenched dress with it.

Predictably, Steve loses it.

“ARE YOU FUCKING TOUCHING MY GIRLFRIEND, JENSEN? Are you really that fucking stupid?” Steve gives Jake an almighty push that has the younger alpha staggering back with a fearful look in his eyes. And you know that a sober Steve would’ve killed the poor guy, but a drunken Steve still has a lot of wrath despite his sluggish movements. “You think my girl’s gonna feel sorry for you? You think you have a chance with her? Fuckin’ pawing at her like she’s a free piece of ass?!”

You wince before grabbing Steve’s arm and telling him to stop. But it’s no use and everyone knows it. You’re just lucky that the alcohol in Steve’s system has slowed him down a bit, because sober Steve would’ve murdered the poor boy in ten seconds flat.

“I didn’t paw at her, I was just trying to help her!” Jake protests.

“Are you calling me a liar, Jensen?” Steve seethes. “You’ve had your creepy eyes on my girl since day one, don’t think I can’t tell! I’m not fucking blind, you dumbass moron! I’ll have you kicked off the football team for even looking at her! Hell, I’ll have you fucking expelled, even. How does that sound, dumbass?” He shakes the poor freshman by his collar, “huh? How does that fucking sound??”

Jake looks like he’s about to cry, or piss himself out of fear. Thankfully, that’s when a few other alphas from the football team intervene. It takes both Thor and Sam to pry Steve off of Jensen, and you see Sam whisper something in Steve’s ear as Thor leads Jake away.

“Can you take him away to cool off somewhere?” Sam’s voice snaps you out of your frozen state and you nod, happy to be of some use.

Steve is drunker than you originally thought, and helping his considerably larger, 6’6 frame down the hallway takes every ounce of your strength — which isn’t a lot to begin with.

“Can you believe Jensen thinks he has a chance with you?” Steve scoffs, slurring his words as he leans against you. You thank your lucky stars that he can still keep himself up somewhat, because if he put even an ounce more of weight against you, you’d probably both end up on the floor.

“Flirting with my omega right in front of my fucking eyes!” Steve fumes, more to himself now as you both navigate down this random hallway. You don’t even know where you’re meant to be taking him—you just want to get him as far away from Jake and more alcohol as possible.

“You’re the prettiest girl on campus, as if he ever stood a chance. I should shove his fucking glasses up his ass for touching you like that. Son of a bitch.”

The compliment makes you pause, your heart lifting. Steve thought you were the prettiest girl on campus? Well, he was drunk and not thinking clearly, because it obviously wasn’t true. Not when his ex looked like a supermodel.

You don’t have time to ponder over his words, however, because the big alpha stumbles just as soon as your fingers curl around a random doorknob, and both of you fall into a bathroom that’s thankfully unoccupied.

“Aha! You dragged me in here so we could fuck, didn’t you?” Steve’s eyes twinkle with mischief as he reaches down to pinch your ass. You yelp softly, but remember not to bat his hand away because you’re not allowed to do that - whether he’s drunk or sober, it doesn’t matter.

“Wh-What, no!” You protest but he’s not listening. He grabs you by the hips and yanks you forward, flipping the lid of the toilet seat down before taking a seat and pulling you into his lap.

“Aww, my little baby omega got horny at the party, so you decided to take me somewhere private, hm?” He sponges kisses down your neck, hands slipping up to fondle your breasts through your dress. It suddenly makes you acutely aware of how wet the material still is from the drink that was dropped on you earlier, and the stench of alcohol seems to be sticking to your skin.

It’s when Steve starts fingering your panties and pulling them aside that you jump off his lap and make a beeline for the sink.

“I’m sorry, Steve. It’s just... my dress is completely drenched.” You try not to let it affect you but you can feel your lower lip wobble and your eyes begin to water. It’s a weird reaction that’s come out of nowhere, but the strong smell of booze only brings back unsavoury memories of things you really don’t want to remember.

“Come back, omega.” Steve orders you, palming his dick through his jeans. “You got me all hard, baby. Well, I’m always hard when I’m with you, but that’s besides the point. Now get back here.”

You try splashing water on your dress and scrubbing away the smell but all that does is make you feel wetter and even more disgusting. Panic begins to set in, what if the smell never came off? What if you were doomed to spend the rest of the party in this booze-soaked dress? The smell was already taking you back… all you had to do was close your eyes and you were back at home, with all the yelling and screaming and hitting and–

“No, no, no!” You shake your head, sinking down to the floor. It’s only when you try (and fail) to breathe that you realise you’re having a panic attack.

“Hey. Come back to me.” Steve’s voice cuts through your racing thoughts, his warm hands cupping your cheeks and his potent scent helping you breathe. “Come back, omega. I’m right here.”

You feel tiny in his arms as he draws you close, but you can’t help but hug him so hard that he stumbles back a few steps.

“Don’t like the smell.” You whimper against his chest. “It won’t come off my dress, Steve. I’m sorry.” You don’t know why you’re apologising but you have feeling so helpless and panicked. All you want is to go home and take a warm shower where you scrub yourself raw to get this smell off of you.

“Well, that’s an easy fix.”

Steve rips your dress in half. One second, it’s on your body. The next second, you’re standing there in your underwear, the material of your dress torn in two sorry-looking rags in either of Steve’s hands. Your alpha smirks triumphantly, as if he’s just solved world peace and world hunger all in one night. “See? Problem solved.”

“B-But how will I get home? I have nothing else to wear!”

Your alpha shrugs off his own sweatshirt and pops it over your head. And it’s like every single worry dissipates from your mind once the soft, heavy material of his sweatshirt hits your skin. It’s thick and of good quality, and so much cosier than the tight dress you’d had on. Plus, it smells absolutely heavenly.

“Thank you.” You hug him again, pressing your face against his bare chest. On any normal occasion, you’d be way too shy to show this much affection to him. You have problems giving him simple eye contact and holding his hand, hugging him is something you can’t even imagine doing off your own accord. But you’re so thankful to have the alcohol-soaked dress away from you, that Steve may as well be your knight in shining armour right now.

A very drunk knight in shining armour.

“See, there isn’t a problem I can’t solve.” Steve boasts, hugging you back and kissing the top of your head. He’s always touchy with you but it’s usually a lot more lewd. This, standing here hugging in a stranger’s bathroom, slightly swaying together, it feels a lot more intimate. Romantic, even.

He half carries you to the bathtub, and you let out a squeak of protest when he casually just settles down inside it. Lying down and pulling you on top of him, your back to his chest. You giggle, “Steve! You have a huge, king-sized bed at home, you don’t need to sleep here!” (You’re hopeful that he might call an uber and take you home because you’ve had about enough of this party).

Steve booms with laughter, “Home? What am I, a pussy? Let’s just rest our eyes, and then we’ll go back downstairs and party some more.”

He doesn’t rest his eyes, however. For the next five minutes, you lie there while he just… stares at you. His blue eyes dilated till they’re practically black, blinking down at you where you lie on his chest. But you’re far too cosy to feel uncomfortable, with the combined heat of Steve’s bare skin and the sweatshirt you’re wearing keeping you cocooned in delicious warmth. You just wish the alcohol-stench memories would go away, because they keep flashing inside your head every time your eyes grow heavy.

“You’ve still got that look on your face.” Steve muses, heavy hand drunkenly tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear.

You look up at him imploringly, “What look?”

“Your nightmare face.” Steve says matter-of-factly, wrapping his arms around you even tighter as your head snaps upwards.

“My wh-what?”

“Your nightmare face. You do it all the time in your sleep. You start frowning and whimpering.” Steve shrugs, tracing the planes of your face with his pointer finger. Stroking your cheekbone before going down to rub over your bottom lip. “A lot of the time, you start doing it when I get up early to go to the gym. But then I just throw your toy at you and it seems to work because you calm down.”

You can’t quite wrap your head around what you’re hearing, “M-My toy?”

Steve rolls his eyes, “The little fluffy guy. Steve Junior or whatever.” He bats his hand dismissively and knocks over a bottle of shampoo and a bodywash, which he seems to find hilarious because he bursts out laughing, “Whoops.”

“I’m sorry!” You blurt out, feeling your palms begin to sweat. “I didn’t realise I had a nightmare face, and it’s not your job to have to take care of me when I… do all that.”

He kisses you, lips soft as a pillow as they work against yours. It amazes you how sweetly Steve kisses you sometimes, and how tender and careful he’s being right now despite the fact that he’s so drunk. Even the taste of alcohol on his tongue doesn’t seem to bother you because it’s him, and you can’t get enough of him.

“I wish I knew what gets you so scared every night.” He whispers against your lips, cupping your face and holding you close. He takes a deep breath, his long lashes fanning his cheekbones as he strokes your cheeks. “I hope it’s not me.”

“It’s not.” You breathe, but it’s swallowed by his kiss, which is more passionate and deeper now as he begins to pull you closer to him. His hands slip up the sweatshirt you have on, cupping your ass and giving it a squeeze. And that’s when you know that the tender moment is over, and Steve is horny once more.

“Just a quickie,” Steve murmurs excitedly, and it’s crazy how quickly his mind has jumped to sex, and you wonder if he’ll remember how sweet he was just a few seconds ago. It made your heart skip a beat, but now he’s trying to peel your clothes off. “C’mon, baby. Gotta be inside you right now. Gotta–”

The bathroom door crashes open at the exact moment, and Steve lets out a string of curse words under his breathe as your eyes register who it is…

“Gotta pee, gotta pee, gotta pee!” Jake Jensen mutters to himself, clearly unaware that he’s not alone in the bathroom. The sound of him unzipping his fly has you gasping and covering your eyes as Steve jumps to his feet and drags you up with him.

“JENSEN, DON’T YOU DARE WHIP YOUR DICK OUT IN FRONT OF MY GIRLFRIEND, OR ELSE I’LL GOUGE YOUR FUCKING EYES OUT!”

THE END FUK BYEEEEEE IDK WHAT THIS WAS I’M NOT TOO PROUD OF IT, I JUST... IDK HOW TO WRITE STEVE IN DRABBLES BC I DON’T WANT TO DEVELOP HIS CHARACTER, SINCE THAT IS FOR THE MAIN FIC!!!! IDEK YALL FUCKKKKK BYE

#steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #dark steve rogers #chris evans #poyt drabble

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c0ld0utside · 4 months

Note

hey don’t push yourself to post a work every day, you’ll get brunt out. Go at your own pace, we’ll wait :)

also, have you thought of a human father with a monster child? Like he just grabbed a monster off the street lmao

OHOHO I LOVE THIS IDEA- And you're too kind tysm ;-;

Warnings: Child abandonment (Circle of life scenario), Reader unknowingly eats weed raw, Reader gets chased, Reader accidentally knocks themself out, Kidnapping, Reader gets tied up, Reader just has a lot of oopsie-daisies in general, Obsessive, Possessive, Delusional and Ignorant behavior

“***” means POV swap! Gonna try these out in this story.

Growing up, you never thought about the day you had to “leave the nest.” Sure, it was a thing that your species did, but you never thought about it too much. …Until you hit a certain age.

You still remember it all. The rain was pouring down hard and making you shiver. You called out to your parent, whining about wanting to return home, but they pressed forward and expected you to follow. So you did. You walked for hours, feet getting covered in mud and feeling icky. The two of you reached some black river with white dots in the middle, going in a perfectly straight line.

Your parent turned to you, said that you were old enough to take care of yourself, that you weren’t allowed to come back, and that they wished you well. They left you there. You tried to follow them, tried to track their scent, tried begging and pleading and calling, but you never found them. Somehow, you managed to find the black river again, and you followed it.

You followed it for a long time, only stopping during the day so you wouldn’t be seen. At night you stuck to the shadows, trying not to get scared when one of the husks roared past you, bright yellow eyes lighting up the darkness for a few moments. The smell it left behind was always awful. You lost count of the days, and at one point you thought you came across a forest fire, only to find that it was the sunlight reflecting on several somethings in tall structures.

You know now that the “black river” is called a road, and that the weird loud husks humans travel in are called “cars.” You’ve grown used to the smells and the loud noises. You’ve also learned that living in human environments got you free food since the morons just threw the stuff out. Like, come on, why would you dump an edible “burger” over some pickles? Just take ‘em out!

Hiding your appearance, on the other hand, was harder. Your horns were coming in and from what you’ve seen, humans don’t have those, or naturally brightly colored irises and star-like pupils. …Or tails. Or pointed ears. Just your luck, though! Some guy forgot to lock the backdoor into the mall, and the shops you “borrowed” from were out of the cameras’ view.

Finding a home was hard, too. It took a lot of trial and error, but you eventually found a good spot in an abandoned building after scaring a few squatters. They even left their blankets and strange leaves behind. You found out the hard way that those leaves are not good for you, especially after coughing them back up out the window. But hey, it’s all trial and error. Just like your parent said it would be.

You’re comfortable, living in the abandoned home with ratty blankets and a mattress. Sneaking around the city after dark to snack on the unwanted leftovers thrown in trash cans. “Borrowing” shiny things off of people while they weren’t looking. Like that one guy’s watch, or that girl’s bracelet. Or some kid’s fidget ring. You even have a few things called “wallets.” Humans make interesting things, you’ve come to find.

Like money.

Money, you’ve come to find, makes it so you don’t have to dig wasted food out of the garbage. You’ve managed to get some new clothes as well, which was a relief because your horns are very noticeable now without a beanie, and they ripped a hole in your old one. You had a hard time throwing it away, but the new one you have is the best thing you’ve ever gotten. You even bought a few things called “pins” to decorate it with.

The issue with money, however, is that it runs out quick, and getting more is harder than getting food. Which brings you back to your collection of empty wallets. You don’t want to go back to digging food out of garbage cans, trying to find scraps that were clean enough to eat. Your blankets are worn to shit, too. So, eating the last of your food and slipping your beloved beanie on, you head out of your abandoned home and into the city.

***

A man in his late twenties enters the shop, and he cheerfully says “Hello” back to the greeter. “What you looking for, Tim?” The greeter asks, recognizing the regular. “Pins,” He replies simply. “I’m getting bored of the ones I have.”

The greeter nods slightly. “Well, we got some new ones recently. Maybe you’ll like one of those.” She offers. The two exchange friendly smiles and Tim heads over to the pin basket, giving it a once over before starting to dig through it. He plucks out a Mothman one. A bit standard, he knows, but it’s adorable and Tim likes it so that’s that.

Tim plucks out a few more monster pins and a few goofy animal ones, like a spider pin with the words “I cry from every eye” printed on it and a duck with a knife. Satisfied with his haul that only costs around fifteen bucks, Tim looks up and spots the best thing he’s ever seen in his entire life. It’s just a keychain with a ghost plush, but it’s probably the cutest thing he’s ever seen in his life and he needs it. It even has a little smile on its face. A smile. It’s so precious and tiny and he just wants to hold it in his palms and dub it “Bartholomew the First.”

So he feels less alone.

Tim frowns at the sudden thought. Yeah, he’s a loner. Yes, he has friends, but they’re more work buddies and classmates than anything. He’d like to get a pet, something funky like a ferret or a rat or a lizard. But no, his landlord says no pets, so no pets for Tim. He’s always been sympathetic to others, having a lot of love to give but no one close to share it with. People from the past always found him odd because of it, but never told him why. Never told him what to do instead.

He knows he’s not alone. Most people want someone to care about them, and most people want someone to care for. Because no one really wants to be alone. Especially not him. So why does everyone treat him funny? How can he make it better? The kids don't think he's weird. They love it when he babysits. Please just-

Tim’s snapped out of his thoughts when he feels something slip out of his back pocket. A teen wearing a beanie with a rabid possum and “peace was never an option” duck pin on it quickly leaves the store, brushing past him. It takes him a few seconds, but he puts two and two together and rushes over to the greeter.

“Kathy hold onto these please some brat just took my money,” Tim says in a rush, shoving the items into her hands before booking it out of the shop. Kathy stands there, a bit stunned and processing what just happened. With a sigh, she heads over to the register and buys the pins and keychain.

“Don’t you already have that one?” One of her coworkers asks, squinting at the spider pin.

“I’m buying it for Tim. Some kid just took his wallet.” Kathy explains, blushing slightly at the teasing glance her coworker gives her.

***

This guy is stubborn. So stubborn, it’s scary. Scarier than that one wolf that would not stop chasing you after you got too close to its pups. It was an accident and you wish your parent was here to charge through the street and intercept the damn guy who’s still chasing you. Like they did with the wolf.

You know your parent had some love for you because they listened to your screams and begs and let the poor thing go. They also immediately scolded you for the whole thing afterward. Reckless, stupid little joey, poking around where they shouldn’t be. Just go back home and stay there. Food will come, I’ll bring some back.

Running away from the threat is harder, too. Especially when you have to shove and weave past hordes of people who are either really slow or just aren’t paying attention. It feels suffocating. Claustrophobic. You can’t get out and you can’t take a moment to breathe. You can’t give this up though, you need it.

I wish you were still here. I wish things were different. I wish I could’ve stayed.

Without a second thought, you round the corner and scramble up the old fire escape, throwing yourself through the open dirtied window and tumbling into your blankets. Safe, safe, safe, your mind chants. You’re safe. You lost him. You got your money, so you won’t need to get your hands dirty. You pull your beanie off of your head. It was starting to feel uncomfortable on your head and make your horns ache.

There’s a clang outside, and a few muffled curses. Wait. What. What? You immediately stand up, pocketing the “borrowed” wallet. A familiar scent wafts into your nose- sweat and palm leaves. Funny for a guy who’s a regular at the most “teenage angst” store you’ve ever been in. The man from before hops through the window and dusts himself off. His gaze screams murder as he looks up at you.

…Only to fall the moment he spots your odd eyes and horns that are starting to curl.

Okay. Okay. Stay calm. The dude managed to track you home. He’s a human- he’s weaker. He has no defense. Do what your parent taught you.

Like a stag, you take a defensive stance and show off your horns. Don’t wanna get hit with these. They’ll hurt really bad. Go away, please. Wait- please? No! Go away now!

You expect the guy to get the memo and leave.

Instead, he coos at you.

***

Tim was wrong. The creature was the most cutest, precious thing he’s ever seen. “Awwwww, look’t you!” He coos, relaxing and taking a friendly stance. “Wait hold on- no, this could be a cosplay. This is a cosplay, isn’t-”

He yelps as the creature charges, narrowly moving out of the way. Its horns slam into the wall and when it pulls away, there’s a noticeable dent and cracks in it. The beast grunts, teeth flashing in a snarl. Fangs with some flat teeth. Its tail slips out of its hiding place and lashes angrily.

Tim kneels, holding his hand out and trying to How To Train Your Dragon his way out of this. “Hey buddy, it’s alright. I just need my wallet back. Can I have it, please?” He asks sweetly, making a small motion with his hand. "We can talk about this. I can help."

Tim frowns when it hisses at him, an idea blooming in his head. When the monster charges again, he moves to the side and wraps his arms around them. “Easy, easy, aw…it’s alright. Shhhh…”

“LET ME GO!” The creature screams, making him pause. It can speak? It sounds young, too. Tim glances around the room, taking in the empty bags of chips and other generally bad stuff that kids eat without a second thought. He notices the ratty blankets and worn, moldy mattress on a broken bedframe.

“...How old are you?” Tim asks, tone full of pity. He winces when he feels claws dig and scratch at his arms, but doesn’t let go. “Ow- hey, it’s okay, I can help you. Let me help you.” The creature doesn’t give up, continuing to struggle. He feels his grip slipping, and he has to take several steps back.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa- hey, chill out-!”

The creature breaks free and slams into a wall.

***

When you wake up you know you’re not in your home. It doesn’t smell rancid and there are soft, silky textures brushing against you. Your head in resting on something soft and fluffy. The smell of palm trees is everywhere, and the world seems brighter. The noise is still there, though.

Outside, a car’s horn goes off repeatedly, resulting in you shifting around and trying to bury your head in the soft object.

…Your hands are bound. So are your legs. The softness rubs against you. It’s a new sensation, one you aren’t used to. The smell gets stronger and you start to panic. So, like any scared joey, you start to call out for your parent.

“I’m coming, I’m coming!” You hear the man call. You hear him head over and enter the room, immediately joining your side. He starts to rub your back gently, shushing you. Stop it- stop it- you try to protest but he interrupts you. “I know, I know. It’s all new and confusing. But it’s okay! I’ll take care of you now. Don’t worry, I know you’re not a pet. You’re…uh…well, I don’t know, but you’re a person.”

“Oh, don’t cry, it’s okay. I’m helping. I had to tie you up ‘cause I didn’t want you to hurt yourself again! It’ll be okay, I promise. No more of that nasty stuff for you.”

“I know you’re scared, but look at it this way! You’re not alone anymore! And now I’m not alone either. I wanna guess you’re…what? Seventeen? Y’know, most humans think you’re an adult when you hit eighteen, but I think twenty-one is more reasonable. No “teen” in “twenty-one,” is there?”

I was actually thinking of this while writing the werewolf story! And I gave “Dad” a name this time. Speaking of which, I feel like giving the other guys names. Is there a way to vote on it or something? I want to hear your guys’s ideas

I will definitely add onto this as well.

You're looking spectacular today! Drink water! Eat something that isn't chips! SLEEP!

#yandere #platonic #platonic yandere #yandere imagines #platonic yandere imagine #monster reader #yandere dad #yandad #yandere platonic #yan imagine #dad yandere

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mikobeautifulheart · 3 months

Note

drunk megumi kissing you like there's no tomorrow. (no smut please!!!)

so like, everyone here is aged up to 18+. yuji and nobara wanted to see how megumi reacts when he gets drunk. they purposefully mix alcohol to one of his cold drink. he drinks it, goes to my dorm and then.... yeah..... it is up to you now.

ummm, maybeee you could make him pin me to the wall or my bed UGH!! JUST MAKE IT HOT!! A HOT MAKE-OUT SESSION!!!!

and ofc, write this only if you're comfortable enough.

thank you in advanceeeee!! <3333333333

Ask and you shall receive. Also its mostly unedited but I wanted to get this done for you ASAP. Hope its what you had in mind-ish? There is no smut and I tried to get it as hot as possible in my mind rn. Hope you enjoy!

BTW ur my first request so...congrats?

DrunkMegumi! And his over due confession.

Word count: 1398

TW: I guess you technically drugged Megumi?

Is he really dead on the inside? (Drunk Megumi confession)

Yes all characters are aged up to 20 and there is not a hint of smut. Just uh…Hotness.

Being a sorcerer is many things. It's a sacrifice of giving up on desires like love. And it's also years and years and yearssss of built up stress.

Everyone gets stressed right? Between Yuji and Nobora, Megumi only has two moods. Kill and annoyance.

Knowing that there had to be more to their reserved friend they both tried to come up with a plan on their assigned mission together. Anything that would bring out this ‘Hidden side’ of Megumi.

“What if we put him on a really fast roller coaster” Yuji said

“What are you, 15? No one goes to those amusement parks any more moron.” Nobora said her eyes twitching from all the ideas they have come up with. Nothing on their list would seem to work on Megumi. He was to ‘Dead on the inside’

“Wait. we’re not 15 any more” Yuji said his eyes brightening with an idea

“Yeah, so spit it out.” Nobora said on the verge of punching Yuji square in the face.

“Megumi's 20th birthday is next week…”

Nobora stops walking, sensing that Yuji might actually be onto something.

“What if we…mess up his drink, ya know, maybe hand him the wrong cup”

“YOU IDIOT, YOU'RE RIGHT” Nobora yelled slamming her fist into her palm. Of course whether this was the ‘right thing to do’ was completely thrown out the window, when you were as desperate as them nothing mattered anymore.

Buzzz

Your phone rang in your pocket.

“It's Yuji. You said looking at the contact name then at Megumi.”

He sighed in annoyance but you knew he really meant that you should pick up. So with a swift hair flick to the side you put the phone to your ear.

“Yuji, are you okay? Is Nobora alright?” You asked

“Y/N you gotta help us. It's about Megumi's birthday, we have a plan but we need you to do it because there's no way Megumi is going to trust us.”

Alarm bells are going off in your head because whatever those two have come up with can't be good, especially when Megumi is the target. You turn away from Megumi before responding.

“Look you two I don't know what you planned but it can’t be good. ”

“No, no wait” Yuji said, interrupting you.

“Don’t you wanna see Fushiguro tipsy?”

You paused. You've never seen Megumi drink, let alone anywhere near drunk.

“How do you suggest we do that?” you asked.

“Happy birthday to Megumiiiiiiiii, happy birthday to youuuuu”

“Alright cut it out already” He maybe 20 but he still acts like the 15 year old Megumi.

You start serving the cake while Yuji is silently escaping to the kitchen with the big bowl of punch he made with a secret ingredient and Nobora hands over some gifts to Megumi while he doesn't suspect a thing.

You don't know why but your heart is racing. Maybe because you're nervous to see Megumi drunk, or that he would catch on before the plan was even in action. Or maybe the fact he was staring at you the whole time.

Probably that last one.

Its no secret you and Megumi got close over the years but it seemed like you were close enough to go to the next level he would pull away and you guys would go back to square one. Well after years of this happening you eventually learned that you’d never be more than friends. So that's how it stayed. But on those rare occasions that Megumi would make you feel nervous, he would really make you feel butterflies.

Yuji comes back into the room with the bowl of ‘punch’ handing out cups to everyone. When he gave one to Megumi, he could see Megumi's hesitation.

“What's the matter, Fushiguro? You don't like it? That's sad because Y/N made it for your birthday especially.”

You whipped your head around. Now you understood why Nobora and Yuji needed you to execute the plan.

“There's nothing weird in there if you were concerned, go on tell him Y/N” Nobora said, giving you the ‘go along with it’ look.

“Yeah…Its just tropical fruit juice and sprite ‘n whatever you mumbled the last bit not even knowing what the punch really was”

Megumi looked at you and the cup.

“No it’s just-I thought I had a bug in mine” he said before downing the whole cup.

That's how it was most of the night. He just kept drinking and drinking without a change.

“Maybe he has a high alcohol tolerance?” Yuji texed Nobora, clearly losing his excitement.

“Maybe you didn't put enough alcohol in” she was clearly annoyed that Megumi seemed to have no reaction so while Megumi left for whatever he left for, she snuck a whole nother bottle of alcohol in.

“Guys don’t you think this is going too far?” You asked, getting tired as it reached 10:00. You had missions in the morning you didn't want to keep being tired.

“Maybe your right” Yuji sighed

“This might all be a wasted effort”

“Where is Megumi anyways?” Nobora asked. You guys haven't heard from him in the past 10 minutes.

So you all snuck into Megumi's room to see him passed out on the floor.

“There's the reaction you were looking for” You said

Disappointed, Yuji and Nobora Help you put him on his bed and head to his door.

“Good night guys” you said

“Aren't you coming?”

“I’ll do a quick clean up and then leave” You said with a yawn evident in your voice.

“God I dont get why Megumi didn’t wife you up at all” Nobora sighed before walking out the door after Yuji shutting the door behind her.

“I thought about it, '' Megumi said, suddenly appearing behind you making you jump, not expecting his presence.

“Megumi?!”

His words were slightly slurred and his footsteps were slow. He was drunk.

“Uh umm I was going to do a quick clean up then leave but I can leave now if you want-” You said not knowing what Megumi was on about.

Suddenly you felt strong hands push you onto the door.

“Megumi?” you said, your face heating up.

“Megumi, you're drunk…you're not thinking straight right now, just go to sleep and drink water in the morning.”

“Do you care about me?”

You paused. Yes you wanted to say. For years since school and still now.

“Why would you ask that?” you asked turning your head to the side to avoid his gaze.

“You never dated another guy in the time ive known you…I…I took your life from you because I wanted you.” he mumbled. He sounded sorry like he really robbed you of your life, but honestly it was the opposite.

“Your right, i didn't date another guy because i did care about you, I still do and-”

Before you even finished you felt something soft on your exposed neck.

“MEGUMI?!” you squealed in sheer shock and surprise.

“‘M sorry, I was scared I would lose you if I became too attached , ya know? But 'm older now and i can’t keep living like this.” he said in between breaths

“‘N I just…I can’t”

He pulled away just to lift you off the ground bridal style to his room. He walked in and placed you on the bed and collapsing right next to you arm slung around your waist.

“Look Megumi, I said you were drunk okay? You just need to sleep” you got ip to leave before his hand caught your arm and pulled you back down.

“I'm sorry” he mumbled before holding the back of your head and giving you the most alcoholic kiss ever. Even if you tried you knew you couldn't pull away. You felt hot tears on your cheek. The guilt he felt for not doing this sooner, for making you wait, for making himself wait. His lips pulled away and trailed down your neck and shoulders. He pulled you closer.

“Best birthday present ever” He said before going back to your lips.

THANK YOU FOR READING ♡

BONUS: “Man, I really wanted to see him confess or somethin’” Yuji said while walking back to his dorm with Nobora.

“Yeah I guess that guy really is dead on the inside '' she sighed disappointed.

AUTHORS NOTE: It's 1:30 rn but I really wanted to write this so its mostly un-edited. Sorry. AND REBLOGS ARE WELCOMED as per usual. :) Gn everyoneee.

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alwaysshallow · 3 months

Text

how you get the girl

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick x female reader

READ ON AO3

You spend Valentine's Day with your best friend, perfectly oblivious to his feelings to you. (3k)

A/N: an exchange gift for @tokusho!! hope you like it; Kyle is a sweetheart!! a sweetheart that loved you from the very start, it would be proper to say. I wouldn't be myself if I wouldn't include smut in it lmao

People love winter for multiple reasons.

First, school doesn't bug them that much. Sure, there’s always something to do, but it’s calmer around Christmas time and February, when all of the exams are over. Time for yourself, learning new hobbies or expanding current ones. Cute.

It's also the best to spend this time on travelling—around the world or near the area someone lives in. No matter where, it’s good to take a breath and visit your family or friends, too.

Or just to wander around your town, taking in nature and thinking about mundane things, far from the school, far from the boring reality someone is in. When you can just be amazed by the view right in front of you, thinking how small the world really is, how grateful you are to be here.

Secondly, it's a cozy season. You can get lost in watching those silly romcom movies, trying to bake something edible from the various cooking shows that are out here. Wanting to be at least half as good as Gordon Ramsay is, or to serve the best cake in the world. Everyone makes it so effortless, it’s only natural to want to try it too.

Does it work?

Well, based on your own experience, you're certainly better at it, but cinnamon rolls are by far the best thing you can make—mostly because it can't be too sweet. And your main problem? Making things way too sweet. Not because you like it that way, not because you have someone who likes it that way, you just… Well, let's say, you like to skip the amount of things you have to add.

Everything is "on eye" and maybe it works with cooking, but certainly not baking.

All of those reasons could be your reasons why you would like winter. Could—because you have one that is way more important than baking or being alone.

Because this is the season when you see Kyle Garrick after months of being apart. You see his dumb smile whenever you open the door for him, how happy he is to be here. How he literally can’t wait to step into your house and be here for a couple of weeks since that’s how he uses his leave. Couple of days for other friends and catching around. The rest is for you.

Kyle is your friend from high school. Years spent together in the same classes, parties, he was—still is—a dear friend that had your back, and you had his, always, no matter how shitty the situation was.

Inseparable, that’s what you were. Attending the same practices, no matter if it was a football one, art classes or something else; you always were here for a good laugh, especially if you sucked at some activities.

Everyone around always saw you together. There were even a few rumors about you two dating, but it never came down to this, to being together despite years of flirting and a few innocent kisses, there and there. You two didn’t even talk about this, much to your dismay.

Maybe you would, if he didn’t leave for the military. Tough separation, leaving you on ice with no one to help you to get up and get your shit together because life doesn’t only depend on one boy that you’re hopelessly devoted to. Took a couple of months, but you eventually got used to it—being with him for a couple of days or weeks to see him leaving for another couple of months. Weeks.

You sometimes wonder if he has someone out there. Waiting there for him in the military, even if it’s forbidden at some point. Or, maybe he has some medic that always patches him up after the missions, a small smile at her lips, keeping his secrets. Keeping his bed warm, making the whole thing easier because she’s always gonna be around. No matter what.

“—and he’s just a moron.”

But maybe if he did have someone, he wouldn’t spend Valentine’s Day with you.

You look up at him, a confused look on your face, but you manage to give him a smile. He probably talks about the movie that you two are watching; a classic romcom, Love Actually, but you’re not sure. You got too lost in your thoughts to know who he is calling a moron and give it more than a second of your thinking.

He seems to know that. An arch of his eyebrows exposes him, appearing when he always thinks of something a little too much. Military habit, he once explained, but it makes you chuckle every time.

“Who’s a moron?” you ask, deciding not to act dumb—it wouldn’t work in front of him. Not when he knows the pattern of your thoughts, not when you two know each other inside out.

“Him. I would give up on a girl that’s taken, sure, especially if she’s nothing but eye candy. A stupid desire that would end the friendship. But he literally filmed her through the entire wedding,” he mutters, his fingers curling slowly the ends of your hair. He repeats the action several times, even if he talks. You think it’s soothing him in some way. “She had to mean everything for him.”

“It’s about the art of letting go. She was in love with his best friend, it’s… not that simple.” You shrug; for some reason, Kyle barks a laugh at that. Startled, you punch him with your elbow and you take a little distance. “What? You don’t agree? Come on, you wouldn’t do it.”

“Well, ‘m not the one to do it normally, but if I’d be obsessed enough to keep my eyes only on her, I might as well give it a better chance before she gets married,” he huffs. If you didn’t know him like you do, you’d suspect that there's a bitterness somewhere in it, the way he says it. Mad, almost like it’s about him, and a single thought about it makes you sick in your stomach. “Wouldn’t you?”

You gulp. It feels like an interrogation, not a simple talk between two best friends about a romantic comedy that you just watched. There’s a hardness in his tone, demand for answer. “No. I’d put his happiness before mine. If he’s happy, if he has plans that don't involve me in some way, maybe that’s only right. Especially if it’s like this for some time right now.”

It’s not the confession itself, it’s not your feelings with your heart that you put on a silver platter for him to take, but it speaks. It screams, suffocated so many years under the water because you don’t want to ruin anything that’s between you two. Maybe it would be easier in high school, maybe before that prom where he went with Lizzie instead of you, but it didn’t happen.

So, in your mind, it’s something that needs to be buried deep. Six feet underground, where you could meet your feelings from time to time with all the memories that followed it. When you’d eventually move on, but it doesn’t happen.

A small ding in the kitchen rescues you from the fiasco that could happen with this conversation; suddenly, you have to check on your cookies and decorate them, as you always have. Year by year, something sweet; a recompensation for being single so many years in a row.

It doesn’t take much time to have Kyle looming over you like a vulture, curious what you have here. It doesn’t take much time for him to help you; clumsily, but he does a cute job with decorating, even if it’s way too much cream there and there. You have no heart to tell him that, though. And, it doesn’t take him much time to think that’s way too boring for now, so he should do something different.

Something different: dance with you, like he always has. An old song playing from his phone, one hand on your waist, while the other hand travels to make you move. He doesn’t talk (he never does when you two dance, not unless you’re gonna start doing that), he just looks at you. Chocolate brown eyes staring into yours, like they’re trying to see something in yours.

“Boyfriend material,” you could say; and you do, without realizing it at first—Kyle’s smile gives it away.

“I mean, can’t say no to that.” He grins, happy. You, right now, want to kill yourself in some way. “I’m pretty useful in many ways, if I have to say so myself. I mean, just think of how many times you’ve been impressed with me already.” He chuckles, turning you around and around with seemingly no problem. He’s always like this; charming, boyish. Making you fall right into the trap with his eyes, straight up from a fairytale.

He is, in fact, from a fairytale. Too perfect to be real and too perfect to be single, guys like him are always snatched from the public. Kept close the heart because every woman in the world deserves someone like him.

“Your ego could be tempered, though.” You poke his chest (ridiculously hard chest), while he laughs again.

“Always charming. You love my ego,” he points out. You might not agree out loud, but in your mind? Oh, hell yes. Not debatable.

You’d give everything to love him properly. To cherish him, to make him happy when he’s on leave with kisses, gifts, with taking him to your family so he’ll have a scrap of normal life. To wake up beside him in bed, arms sneaked around you with a dose of protectiveness that he always has, even if it’s not the romantic one like you want it to be.

“And you’re thinking way too much, pretty,” he chuckles, leaning over you even more. The size difference between you two is evident and big, encouraging him. Always had, especially when he knows how much of an impact he has like that. “Care to share?”

“Usual shit,” you answer, clearing your throat. Two beats of silence pass, when he sighs and turns you around one more time, pulling you closer to himself. Chest to chest, or—your head to his chest, to be exact. You have to look up at him to see his eyes. “Kyle—”

“—is it about that movie we watched? You love someone that you can’t have?” He shoots a question at you; unexpected, a swift bullet going right through you. Making you tremble, feeling like you’re not in a warm house, but in the busy, cold street in London in your underwear only.

“No, it’s—”

“—Because if so, why didn’t you tell me? I bet there’s a way—”

“—there’s no way, that’s the problem. That’s the problem because you’re funny, handsome and you probably have someone here, way more interesting than me, so I don’t understand why you are here right now. I don’t, I won’t…” You breathe. There’s a lot in you right now, way too much to unload it right now.

“You love me?”

The choice of words, so carefully avoided by you the whole time, dawns on you. Makes an unpleasant feeling in your stomach, the presence of thousands of butterflies informing you that, in fact, you do love him. Always had, even if you denied to use these specific words.

“Since high school.” It’s a quiet confession. Almost shy, but you look him straight in the eye when you say that, taking a step back when he takes a step forward.

“And why you… didn’t tell me sooner?”

“Wanted to. But when you took that girl to the prom, something…” You sigh. Taking a moment because for the first time, you need to be honest about your feelings. “I don’t know, something snapped. I thought it would ruin everything between us, I thought it’s not worth it to say that I want something more when you want someone else. And, after you got around the idea of being in the military—”

He steals the rest of the words with a kiss. Soft, indicating you don’t need to say more than you’ve already said because it’s all he needs to know, actually. It’s the first time he does it completely sober, not driven by alcohol, curiosity or some dare—it’s something that he wants to do, and you can feel it on your lips. The hot feeling of desire, when your hands travel under his t-shirt, where you didn’t have access earlier.

“Took her only because Jake said he’s going with you. I had no idea that he was lying,” he whispers out. Nervous, like he might spill some secret, while you just can’t keep yourself from smiling. “I wanted this,” he points at you and himself after another kiss, “since I’ve fuckin’ left. Got sick thinking of other bloody bastards that could—”

“Thinking too much?” you interrupt him, reminding him of his words from earlier. Words that, right now, seem even more appropriate given the situation between you two and how unimportant the past is.

Garrick huffs with disbelief, amused. “A fucking minx you are, y’know that?”

He doesn’t let you say anything in response, as his teeth clack against yours when he kisses you, hastily, like a man starved. Hands going around your waist just to transfer the two of you to your bedroom, decorated for Valentine's Day, unintentionally.

And maybe it makes sense, when you think of everything he has done for you, when he’s on top of you, placing a map of kisses on your body. Maybe it makes sense how he always brought you something on Valentine’s Day, making you feel special. Always saying that it’s a “commercial event” and nothing else, just a day, even if he always brought you flowers, teddybears and chocolates.

How he always spent it on doing your favorite things. Ice rink, going to a match, movies, it didn’t matter—what mattered was you. How he didn’t deny that you’re a couple when some strangers cooed that you two look absolutely perfect with each other. Only a big smile on his face, arm around you, protectively. Making sure that you’re here with him, not anywhere else.

He always keeps you close, even right now, insisting on holding hands when he fucks you, making you fall in love with the idea. Kyle moves slowly, like he wants to remember every inch of your body for the first time you’re so close with him, but it doesn’t last long. It doesn’t because it takes a couple of your moans and he goes mad crazy about the whole thing.

Between the sudden rough, fast pace of his thrusts, he talks a lot. You don’t get much of it, melted into a puddle of your own thoughts; you wanted it so bad. Fantasized, touched yourself to the thought of him to have him right here, right now, and now he’s rutting into you like a maniac. Spreading you open like it’s not even a challenge for him, which makes it easy to ignore the first pain of his cock in you.

When one of his hands circles around your throat (one hand still holding yours, fingers intertwined, like he insisted on doing), you pay more attention to his words, even if they’re incoherent. Messy, he lets every thought flow out of his mind, no matter if they have end or not, no matter if he said something similar or not. You are the one thing that entangles them, even if his words make you feel more and more weak in your knees. How good you are for him, how he’s not gonna give this pussy to anyone, how much your body will make him lose his shit.

He makes the whole thing way more intimate than it already is, luring you into the endless pleasure with him, when he leaves hickeys on your skin, a mark that he was here. Making you depend on him, intoxicating like a couple of colorful drinks, always making you dizzy, but nonetheless, you always want more, until you’re gonna see stars.

And that’s what you see with Kyle Garrick. It doesn’t even feel real, until your fingernails scratch his bare back and your fingers from the other hand tighten around his. Your legs are weak for him, your whole body is.

You feel it twice as hard when he comes too, babbling the whole time about you being the only woman in his life and marrying you. In a bliss, you only smile, kissing his forehead a couple of times, when he hugs you tight, like he doesn’t want you to leave the bed.

Not like you planned to do it anyway.

“Happy Valentine’s Day,” he murmurs against your shoulder, moving a little; you feel how his cum leaks from you. His softened cock still in you, as Garrick apparently doesn’t feel like pulling it out.

“The best Valentine’s Day,” you correct him with a lazy smile on your face. Content, for the first time in the while.

Garrick nods, slowly. “Yeah. Ended up in having sex, so—”

“—you’re the worst,” you laugh, shaking your head. Kyle seems almost scared for a moment, but when he sees that you’re genuinely laughing, he breathes out. “Only because of that? Not because your best friend basically confessed her feelings to you?”

“That too. Obvious option.” He grins, while you smack him with amusement. Kyle bites your shoulder, leaving another mark, while his other hand ruffles your hair.

You groan. “You’re gonna explain it tomorrow to my parents. All those hickeys and bites, young man.”

“You think they’re gonna be mad? Gonna tell them we’re together and they will ask about children,” he laughs; and he’s completely right about it, though. Your parents were cheering for you two from the start, they probably still do. “Anyway, we should order something. I don’t feel like cooking when I have you in bed.”

You huff, amused. “Romantic.”

“Very,” he snides, pulling you closer. His hand travels south, fingers circling near your clit. “Delivery will take some time, so we have to… make use of the time. You tired yet?”

“No, but—”

“—Fantastic.”

#kyle gaz garrick #kyle garrick x reader #gaz x you #cod x reader #cod smut #kyle gaz garrick smut #gaz cod #kyle garrick fluff #kyle garrick smut #kyle garrick x you

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fandom-geek17 · 10 months

Text

Destined For More

Neteyam x Omatikaya!Reader

Synopsis: Being a close family friend of the Sully's, and Kiri's best friend, it was hard to be around Neteyam and not fall in love with him. Supressing those feelings were even harder, especially when his parents start pressuring him about finding a mate...

Rating: E MINORS DNI🔞🔞

Tags: Friends to lovers! Eventual smut! Semi public smut! P in V smut, Reader has a name, no use of Y/N

Vocabulary: Nantang (Viperwolf), Marui (Pods/tents), Skxawng (Moron), Tanhì (Bioluminescent freckles/stars)

Ages: Neteyam (21), reader (20), Kiri (20), Lo'ak (19), Tuk (13)

Can also be read on AO3

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3

“There child” Mo’at told you gently, standing over your shoulder as you crushed the herbs in the mortar. “Perfect.” You smiled to yourself. You were a decent healer, but hearing it from her directly meant everything. Kiri had always been the best healer, always would be, but you enjoyed the profession. Feeling like you could contribute with something else other than making clothes.

Alongside you and Kiri, there were two other healers in training, and everyone was currently busy helping a hunting party that had been attacked by a group of Nantang. None had been seriously injured, but there were a lot of bites and scratches to clean and bandage. They were lucky, it could have been worse. But since there were suddenly so many patients, the supply of medicines ran low. As Kiri and the other two worked on the patients, you were happy to sit in the corner, making more healing paste as fast as you could. The patients were an important part of being a healer, but the thing that had always interested you most was the science behind it. Discovering how new plants could optimize healing, which ones soothed pain, which ones killed bacteria. You had recently discovered that alternating the weaving pattern of the bandages caused more air to flow through without exposing the wounds to the elements. That way, it lessened the chance of infection.

“Emmy, can you pass me those?” Kiri asked, pointing to a pile of leaves next to you. She smiled in thanks as you gave them to her. Your real name was Emreyìte, meaning surviving daughter. It was a bit on the nose, but you liked it. You mother had labored for over two days to bring you into the world, and you nearly didn’t make it. The name was supposed to convey the strength you had already displayed coming into this world.

When you finished crushing the herbs, you put them in the water stewing above the fire. Stirring slowly, and evenly, the water slowly changed color. But it needed to steep for a little while longer. This particular mixture of herbs soothed pain very efficiently when boiled into a tea. But the taste wasn’t particularly pleasant, so you always added some sweetness in the hopes of counteracting the bitter taste. All the hunters were given a cup of the liquid to drink. They all grimaced badly, making you smile a little. It was terrible, but you were still experimenting with the recipe.

You all worked in quiet unison until all the hunters had been treated. It was well past the start of the communal dinner by then, evening setting in slowly. The other two healers went to get something to eat whilst Kiri helped Mo’at to her marui. You stayed behind to clean up. And also take inventory of how much of the supplies had been used. Hunger rumbled in your belly, but it would have to wait.

“Knock, knock” a voice murmured. A voice you knew all too well. Butterflies erupted in your stomach as your breath hitched.

You turned around and indeed. “Neteyam” you breathed. “What are you doing here?”

He shrugged, watching you with a small smile from under his eyelashes. “I saw all the other healers join the dinner, but not you. I figured you’d be here, too wrapped up in your research to eat again.” He held out a steaming bowl in front of you. “So I brought you this.”

The smell of Yerik stew filled your nostrils, making your stomach rumble again. Neteyam smirked, proving his point. “Thank you” you said, accepting his gift. But it was only when he stepped inside the hut properly that you noticed the wound on his shoulder, making you gasp slightly. “Neteyam, what happened to your shoulder?”

“Nothing! It’s fine, don’t worry about it” he assured you, but not very convincingly.

“That needs to be cleaned” you stated, setting the bowl aside. “What happened?” You looked at his expectantly until he finally caved, quirking his brow in your direction.

“I caught a tree branch during fighting practice” he admitted with a nonchalant tone. “It’s fine.”

“Did you clean it, at least?” you asked, observing the wound. You already knew the answer.

“Yes” Neteyam said.

“Well, not well enough. Sit! Does it hurt?”

“No.”

You quirked at eyebrow at him, your tail swishing impatiently.

“A bit.” Neteyam’s ears flicked as his eyes flitted between you and the bowl of Yerik stew. “Can you at least eat first? Waiting a couple of more minutes won’t kill me.” He smiled at you playfully. He was normally very reserved, the smiling Neteyam was usually saved for his family.

But you only huffed, filling a cup with the last of the tea from earlier. “Here, drink this while I eat.” As you sat down with your bowl of stew, Neteyam took a small gulp of the liquid in his cup. His brows furrowed but other than that, he did an okay job of hiding his disgust. But having known him since you were kids, you could tell when he hid the truth. “You can grimace, you know” you giggled over the bowl. “It won’t hurt my feelings. I know it’s disgusting.”

Neteyam hummed, only making a small grimace after his next sip. “It’s not the best” he admitted with a sheepish smile. “But it’s effective. And a lot better than the last time. You’re getting very good at this, experimenting with medicine.” You couldn’t help but blush at his praise.

But you had also just stuffed your mouth full of food, so the only answer he got was that damned blush you wished would go away. As soon as you finished the bowl, you go to work on his shoulder.

Your hand trembled slightly as it made contact with Neteyam’s warm skin, holding him steady while the other hand cleaned his wound with a cloth. Your hand rose and fell with each of his breaths, and you leaned in to see properly in the firelight. Eywa, he smelled so good. Always had. It was intoxicating, and also the reason why you never got too close to him.

Your family and the Sully family had been friends since forever, you and your brother grew up together with the Sully’s, but as your brother made lots of other friends, your only real friend was Kiri. Of course, Kiri came with Lo’ak, Spider and Tuk and they were great, like additional siblings. But they weren’t Neteyam. With his broad shoulders, gentle voice, infectious smile, kind heart and protective older brother demeanor, it was impossible to not gain a crush on him. That crush had lasted on and on since you were fourteen. At seventeen, even you had to admit to yourself that you had fallen in love with him. And how could you not? He was everything, had everything. He was the handsome son of the Olo'eyktan that all the women gazed after, giggled around and tried to flirt with. He was the dream you could never have. It had been clear over the years that he only saw you as a friend, as Kiri’s best friend. So you had become very good at dreaming in silence and later suppressing your feelings for the man sitting before you.

Dreams of exploring with him, laughing with him, him confessing his undying love for you and making you his mate. And also not so innocent dreams, dreams of being with him. Of him kissing you, running his hands all over your body, his mouth following suit, him pushing his cock deep into your pussy, joining his kuru with yours, finally creating that everlasting bond…

A hiss from the man in question broke you out of your train of thought. “Sorry” you whispered, your mouth and throat suddenly very dry.

“It’s okay” Neteyam whispered back. You could have sworn that his voice was deeper, throatier, but it disappeared as quickly as it had appeared. “It just stings a little.”

You nodded quietly and swallowed, desperately trying to regain some moisture in your mouth so you could get your voice back. Standing up, you took a deep breath that you hoped was subtle and went to get the Yalna bark mixture. This was exactly why you tried to avoid being too close to him. Every time those big golden orbs watched you intently or his smell surrounded you, thought and memories of your illicit fantasies caught up with you and you had to remember that Neteyam was destined for so much more than a healer who was more interested in playing with plants than helping her patients.

He was watching you right now, you could tell. His gaze burned at the back of your neck, but when you turned back around, he thankfully looked away. You had to say something, quickly. The longer you stayed quiet, more memories of last night flooded your brain. Those fantasies of him wrapping your legs around his neck before he-

“Why didn’t you come here before?” you blurt out, desperately avoiding eye contact, trying to calm the erratic beating of your heart.

Neteyam shrugged with his good shoulder, his eyes following the movement of you fingers as you dipped them in the mixture. “There were so many wounded hunters, thought you should prioritize them.”

You huffed at his stubbornness. “Skxawng” you muttered, trying to not take in how defined the muscles around his shoulder area were. “I al- we always have time for you” you corrected quickly. Please Eywa, don’t let him catch that slip up!

You dared a quick glance at his eyes, but you couldn’t read the expression there. He opened his mouth and closed it several times before speaking. “I’ll remember that” he breathed.

Quickly, you looked back down at his wound and shuffled closer to be able to apply the ointment. Too late you noticed that this position practically placed you between his legs. His knees rubbed against your waist as you leaned forward. Again, you placed one hand on his chest for support before rubbing your coated fingers over his wound.

A small groan left his lips. A groan that caused you to close your eyes and legs tighter together. Thank Eywa that your braids covered your face as you worked, if he saw the deep violet of your cheeks or your eyes that were more black than yellow, he’d probably bolt out and you’d have to dig yourself into a hole of embarrassment and stay there forever. There was nothing sexual about that groan! He was in pain, you reminded yourself. Still, all you could feel was the beating of your heart and the lightning bolts of pleasure going from your stomach to your core.

This was exactly why you needed to keep a safe distance from him! When there were other people around or you kept yourself at a respectable distance, it was easier to remember that all you would ever be was his friend. It made it easier to suppress everything.

As soon as you could, you bolted from your position as if you had just been burnt. Clearing your throat, you look away, letting your braids hide your face again. “Okay, you’re all set” you murmured under the guise of putting everything back at its rightful place.

You could hear Neteyam standing up behind you, shuffling about a little. “Thank you, Emreyìtre. I appreciate it.” It was so rare for someone to call you by your full name. It caused a flutter of your heart that made you feel both happy and sad at the same time. “Are you staying here long?”

Why did he want to know? Did it matter what you did? “Probably not” you answered slowly, finally turning around to face him. “We used up a lot of Mo’at’s supply today. I was going to forage some more for her so we can all start fresh tomorrow.”

“Now?” he questioned, gesturing to the setting sun outside of the tent. “It will be dark soon.”

You crossed your arms, tail swishing slightly. “So? I’m not afraid of the dark.”

Neteyam’s ears flicked upwards along with his tail. “I know” he smiled. “But I don’t want to see you get hurt.”

You sighed… You wanted to say something derogatory to distract him from the real reason you didn’t want him accompanying you. It’s not like you could tell him you wanted the alone time to cool off and maybe shoot a couple of arrows in between gathering. But when you looked into those hopeful, determined eyes of his, you couldn’t lie. Damn him! “Fine. As long as you remember that I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself then you can make yourself useful and help me carry everything.”

You thrusted a satchel bag into his hands. Neteyam snorted and slung it over his shoulder before accepting the large pile of smaller containers that you had woven for this very purpose. You gathered the same equipment for yourself before also armoring yourself with your daggers and bow and arrow.

As you walked, you tried to stay a couple of paces ahead of him, both to show him the way but also to give yourself some space to think. As eclipse slowly set in, his tanhì would illuminate more and more, creating that perfect canvas of speckled light. He had always been so beautiful in the dark, his features somehow more prominent than during the day. Over the years, you had spent many evenings around a campfire with him and his family. Carefully watching him out of the corner of your eye, you had decided that nighttime was his best look.

But you couldn’t think of that right now! If this was going to work, having him accompany you, then it couldn’t be awkward. You had to treat him the same way as you would anyone else helping you. And that meant no ogling! Hence why you were walking ahead of him.

Neteyam walked diligently behind you, not saying much, just following in your footsteps. Eventually you stopped in front of a clearing.

“Here” you pointed towards a patch of green. “See those plants with the rounded leaves?” He nodded, stepping closer to you to observe the plants. “Dig up the roots, clean them and put them in one container. As many as you can fit.”

“What do they do?” he asked curiously as he sunk down to his knees.

“They calm anxiousness” you answered immediately. “They can also help people sleep if prepared properly.”

As Neteyam worked on the roots, you used your knife to gather the same herbs you had boiled earlier today. Neteyam proved to excel at this, like everything else. He quickly filled the woven bag with roots and immediately asked for a new task. You set him to work as much as you could, both to get the work done faster and because you secretly wanted to see that pleased smile whenever he showed you his collection of plants. He was like one of those yellow canines Jake had showed you on a computer once. The ones that existed on earth. He had that same eagerness to please and do well.

It warmed your heart that he genuinely wanted to help. Yet you also had to remind yourself that this eagerness was not singled out for you. He probably wanted to help everyone with the same fervor. He was the next Olo’eyktan, after all. If the people were supposed to follow him, then he had to show he would be there for them with the same loyalty.

But as the evening went on, Neteyam followed you more and more, asking you to tell him about each and every plant you collected. And it was nice to have something to talk about. Something that you could sink into without feeling self-conscious. So, you happily shared your knowledge.

“See this one?” you sat down in front of a plant with thick, pointy stems and sharp edges. “Kiri and I discovered the use of it a while ago. It soothes burns, produces a cooling sensation.” You broke off a piece of the stem and cut it in half. A clear, gel-like liquid oozed out. You collected some on your fingers and you could swear you heard your foraging partner swallow. But before you had time to process whether he did, you reached for his arm to stroke some on it. “Feel that?” you smiled up at him.

“Yeah” he murmured before looking up at you. “That’s incredible.”

“I’m experimenting with it, to see if I can make turn it into an ointment somehow.”

Neteyam looked at you with hooded eyes. “If anyone can, it’s you.”

A blush spread across your cheeks. He had given you so many compliments tonight, it was hard to believe that this wasn’t one of your daydreams. Even harder when you observed the way his tanhì glowed in the moonlight, the way his braids fell to perfectly frame his face, his gentle smile, his golden eyes looking up at you from under his eyelashes again. The urge to be closer to him was overwhelming. Every fibre of your being longed for him, to feel his lips against yours. But you had to stay strong. He was forbidden territory. Kiri’s brother, the future clan leader, and most importantly; he wasn’t interested. And making any kind of move would ruin whatever it was that you two had.

So you cleared your throat and stood up. “After we get some of these, we should be set to head back” you said quietly, turning away from him.

The two of you quickly gathered the last plant and began walking back. But before you had gotten far you stumbled upon some of your favorite materials for making clothing. A small squeal of happiness left your lips as you bent down to scoop up some of the pebbles.

“Do these have a medical purpose?” Neteyam asked you curiously and picked some up himself.

“No” you admitted bashfully, placing the small white pebbles in your bag. “I use them to make beads and other decorations for my chest coverings.”

“Oh…” Neteyam’s eyes flitted downwards for a moment before he bent down to scoop some more pebbles into his hand to examine them further. “Is it hard to make beads out of them?”

“No” you shrugged. “Just time consuming.” Neteyam nodded slowly.

The two of you walked the rest of the way in silence. It had been such a nice evening and you desperately tried to remember that it was simply an outing between friends. You couldn’t get your hopes up over this one thing. He just came along to make sure you didn’t get lost out there…

“Hey” Neteyam stopped you with a hand on your elbow when the village appeared ahead. “Thank you for letting me come with you. I really needed to clear my head for a bit.”

Your ears perked in interest. “Oh?” His mood seemed to have dampened somewhat, judging by the way his eyes suddenly had darkened and his tail swished slightly when he looked at his family’s marui. “Can I ask why?” you probed gently. “Or is it too personal?” Whatever it was, a part of you really wanted, needed, to know.

Neteyam rubbed the back of his neck nervously. “Mom and dad have been trying to have a conversation with me for a couple of days. A conversation I don’t really want to have.” He looked at his home, his cheeks a bit more violet than usual. You nodded gently for him to continue. He cleared his throat and refused to meet your gaze. “They want me to start looking for a mate.”

And just like that, you could feel cracks appearing in your heart. “Oh…” you whispered, now avoiding his gaze, as well. You had always known this day would come, but mentally preparing and being slapped in the face with it were two entirely different things.

“And it’s not that I don’t want a mate” he added hurriedly. “I do. I just don’t want to be rushed into any big decisions. Whoever I mate with will have to burden a lot of responsibility and I don’t want to force that on anyone. I know what’s like to have so much responsibility thrust upon you that you didn’t ask for.”

You nodded slowly, blinking furiously. Tears prickled at the corners of your eyes, but they had to stay away! You would not cry over the news that a friend was supposed to celebrate. Be supportive! “I’m sure whoever it will be will make a great tsahìk one day” you murmured, clutching your bag closer to your chest. “Since we’re here, I can take the bags to the healing hut.”

“I can help you with that!” Neteyam offered immediately, making you want to cry even more. But not now, not yet!

“No, no I’ll be fine” you lied, your voice a lot shakier than you would have liked. “Go home, Neteyam. I’m sure your parents are wondering where you are.” He reluctantly handed you the bag he was carrying. You gave him a forced smile. “Goodbye.”

You started to walk away before he could answer, desperate to get away. He called after you. “Goodbye Emmy!”

The tears finally spilled over. It felt like a ‘goodbye’ in more ways than one…

Let me know what you think!!!

#avatar #avatar the way of water #atwow #neteyam #neteyam te suli tsyeyk'itan #neteyam x reader #neteyam x omaticaya!reader #neteyam fanfiction #neteyam lives #canon divergence #neteyam x you #ao3 fanfic #swedishlittleowl #avatar x reader #neteyam sully x na’vi!reader #na’vi smut #neteyam x Reader smut

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bby-deerling · 7 months

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birthday cake (zoro x fem!reader)

more zoro fluff, i'm on a roll lately. recently discovered i share a birthday with brook (even though it's currently ages away), and got this silly little idea. wc 1k, zoro bullies sanji. same reader as my other zoro x reader fics!

Though it may not appear so to an outside observer, Zoro hangs onto every word you have ever said, absorbing them all like a sponge. It scared him at first, worrying he was getting distracted from his training, but over time he figured that singularly focusing on swordsmanship left him with a lot of empty space in his head to fill. The things you tell him; your poetic musings, all the technical aspects of the paintings you create, your darkest fears, and your eclectic range of knowledge about almost any topic all get filed away in the back of his brain.

His crew often found themselves flabbergasted when Zoro pulled this information to the forefront. When Chopper wonders aloud how lasers work, he grabs a napkin and sketches diagrams to accompany his explanation that was at least eighty-percent correct. When Robin comments on the ever developing impressionistic style of your pieces, she is quite amused that he has quite a lot to say about your brushwork as of late, going so far as to compare the way you hold your brush to his grip on his swords; you had stopped choking up so far on your brush at his suggestion to help increase the fluidity of your marks and seen a large amount of improvement in your work as a result. During the two years he spent on Kuraigana, he drove Perona up a wall whenever he caught her reading a book he recognized and gave her his very strong opinions on the characters that were entirely based on a brief synopsis you had given him.

That’s why it makes him absolutely crazy when he realizes the stupid, shitty cook has forgotten your birthday, one of the most basic, mundane things about you.

“What’s the plan for tomorrow?” Zoro had asked him, leaning against the kitchen counter with his arms crossed.

“Nothing too far out of the ordinary. I suppose I’ll make a cake despite the fact that Brook can’t really taste it; I know Luffy will want to throw a big party—” Sanji began, before being cut off.

“Moron. Aren’t you forgetting something?” Zoro asks, voice dropping and laced with venom.

Sanji goes pale white with the realization that you shared a birthday with Brook—he had bought you a gift ages ago and forgotten about it, the exact date vaporizing into thin air.

“I can’t believe you forgot it’s her birthday too, especially after all the nonsense she did for yours last month. I told her it wasn’t worth it, but she insisted anyways.” Zoro hisses, jaw clenched.

Sanji ignores Zoro’s hostility and begins flipping through recipes, deciding on an elaborate, three tier sponge cake with strawberry flavored icing.

“She doesn’t want that.” Zoro said, staring over his shoulder.

“Remind me what your job is here again, moss-head?” the cook asks, cigarette in his mouth snapping as he bites down on it in frustration.

Zoro goes to the cabinet that harbors his liquor stash and pulls out a small cardboard box he had bought at the last island. “This is what she wants. Do you have the special pan for it?”

Sanji examines the box of angel food cake mix and sighs. “I’m not feeding her cake mix for her birthday, moss-head. I’ll make one from scratch.” he says, swearing under his breath when he realized how much of a dent it was going to put into the ship’s supply of eggs due to the sheer amount of egg whites required.

“She wants the box mix. It’s what she grew up having. If you won’t make it I will.” Zoro insists, pushing the box back towards the cook. “You know those cookies she likes from that bakery on her home island? With tons of sugar piled on top?”

Sanji nods. “I’ve been there. Zeff and I stole the recipe years ago. It’s really just a basic sugar cookie—"

“They have to be in the shapes of lambs.” Zoro said. Sanji desperately searches the moss-head’s face for any sign of him not being serious, but he turns up empty.

“Where the hell am I going to get a cookie cutter shaped like a lamb in the middle of the ocean?” Sanji snaps, secretly grateful for Zoro’s assistance but nonetheless vexed by his the swordsman’s demanding tone.

“Dunno, but you better figure it out soon.” Zoro says with a shrug, thoroughly enjoying the emotional turmoil that this entire situation was causing Sanji. “Ask Usopp or Franky to make one for you, though who knows if they’re willing at this hour.” Sanji clenches his jaw and nods and picks up a napkin that Zoro has scribbled a rough sketch on, making a mental note to bring it to Usopp later.

As Zoro turns to walk out of the kitchen, Sanji can’t help but throw him one last remark, despite not being in the position to do so.

“I’m surprised you remembered all this, moss-head. I thought all that was between your ears was empty space and ear wax.” he says, not looking up from his recipe book.

“You’re surprised I pay attention when she talks?” Zoro asks incredulously. Sanji sighs, knowing he practically walked into that one, and prepares for another verbal lash.

“I hope I don’t have to tell you her favorite meals too. Honestly, I don’t even see why we keep you around when you can’t even get this right without my help. Stuff like this is why Nami doesn’t give you the time of day, besides being an idiot pervert and all—”

“Out of the kitchen now, moss for brains.” Sanji snaps, shoving his boot into his back and kicking him towards the exit. Before he closes the door, Zoro pokes his head through the opening.

“No frosting.” he says. “Don’t forget.”

“None at all? You’re certain?” Sanji asks incredulously. Zoro nods affirmatively and slams the door to the kitchen, finally giving the cook some peace and quiet, fingers rubbing his temples to get rid of the headache that the swordsman had given him.

The next day, your shared birthday party with Brook in the Sunny's kitchen is the most memorable you’ve ever had, and you’re nothing short of amazed when Sanji pulls out cake and cookies identical to the kind your mother always served you.

The wonder in your eyes at how Sanji was able to replicate the desserts dissipates and is replaced by appreciation and understanding when Zoro grins at you and squeezes your thigh under the table, a silent admission that he'd helped the cook put everything together.

No wonder everything turned out so perfect; how could it not when he pays so much attention to what you need?

#one piece x reader #zoro x reader #x reader #zoro x you #roronoa zoro x reader #roronoa zoro x you #i feel a lil bit sorry for sanji in this lol #i love writing them arguing

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lokisprettygirl · 1 year

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Under his influence (Post Avengers! Loki x female reader) (Series Masterlist)

Chapter 1

Summary : The year is 2012, Loki picks up the tesseract in an attempt to escape from the clutches of Avengers and his brother Thor only to end up in a tiny studio appartment in Minesotta, the occupant being none other than you. You reluctantly agree to hide and help the crazy god of mischief and terrorism wondering why you were even thinking about helping a fugitive?

Warning: 18+ This series will contain smut in the later chapters, Soft loki alert, y/n bein y/n, mention of ecstasy and being high.

His head was pounding as he came back to consciousness. His body was threatening to give out any moment, his vision seemed blurry when he opened his eyes, the last thing he remembered was picking up the tesseract because those Avengers were foolish enough to drop the case carrying the precious cube.

"Morons" he mumbled as he got up from the floor, he immediately took off the muzzle framed over his mouth and the handcuffs from the wrist, the tech was definitely destroyed now.

"Shoddy Stark technology" he mumbled before he noticed that the tesseract was a few feet away from him so he looked into his surroundings. Where in the name of hel was he? His eyes circled around, it seemed like a room or that's what he assumed, there was a kitchenette right behind him while he could clearly see the bed on the other end, there was a closet next to the bed and a dresser, a small ugly sofa was in the middle of the room. He tried to look around but all he found was two doors, one led to a small attached bathroom while the other one had a peephole which he assumed was the door to the outside world.

He spotted a screen in front of the sofa, it was kept at the opposite end of the ugly sofa, few feet adjacent to the main door.

He was familiar with these screens, they had it all around the Stark tower. He stepped towards it and tried to turn it on but the buttons didn't work, he then noticed the loose wire that he probably needed to attach to the plug on the wall so that's what he did.

The loud voice of the newscaster made him jump in his spot, he looked like a squeaky mouse at the moment, thanking the norns nobody was there to witness his humiliation.

And then he saw himself all over the screen. Apparently each and every person on midgard was witnessing his humiliation. Those Avengers had leaked every little footage they had of him, even the one where he was smashed by the Hulk repeatedly.

"The Asgardian terrorist Loki who was being taken back to Asgard has supposedly fled from the Starks tower, brother Thor claims he has no idea where Loki could be" Loki chuckled as he heard that

"Of Course he doesn't, I myself have no clue where I am" he heard a knock on the door and felt frozen in his spot. He tried to turn the screen off but it only got louder and louder so he punched the screen with his fist and well, it was broken but at least it wasn't making that awful noise. He heard the knock again so he walked slowly towards the door, making sure his footsteps were as nimble as a feline.

"Y/n? Are you there?" He heard a feminine voice. Who was y/n? He peeped from the peephole and spotted a middle aged woman. She knocked again but he didn't respond ofcourse, he watched her peeping into the hole so he took a step back, he hoped it only worked one way.

There's no way he could have gotten out there without being caught, he figured he could morph his appearance but there was a risk involved especially if he was walking around with the immense source of power that was the tesseract. Besides, where would he even go? It's not as if he knew much about how midgard worked. Maybe he should just wait for this y/n person. For some reason that seemed reasonable to him, he was extremely exhausted and ravenous, he didn't even remember the last time he had a proper meal.

Looking around the kitchen he found the refrigerator and raided it. He found a box that had chopped vegetables mixed with a type of meat so he munched on it as quickly as he could. He felt extremely warm too, the weather of midgard wasn't best suited for him, he wanted to check his appearance so he walked towards the mirror, looking at his disheveled state he wondered why he even entertained that idea.

"Hideous looking monster"

He mumbled but then he heard the main door lock twisting and it made his heart leap in his chest. He circled around the spot in a futile attempt to hide but it was just one big room, where he was supposed to hide? The closet of course.

"Mrs. Geller, how are you?" He heard a feminine voice again but he knew it didn't belong to the woman he had seen, it sounded sweeter in comparison.

"I'm good my dear, oh you know i heard your tv running in the afternoon so I was wondering if you returned early" He recognised that voice. Was that old woman spying on this particular apartment all the time?

"Are you sure it came from my place? I mean I just got back" he heard the sweet voice again. This voice must belong to the y/n person he figured. He was oddly grateful to not end up in Mrs. Geller's apartment.

He heard those voices going back and forth and finally the main door unlocked.

"I'll just accompany you in case there's a burglar here" Mrs. Geller said and you gave out a little laugh. The laugh sounded even sweeter to him.

"I'm so thankful for you, really..thank you for checking up on me but nobody is here..seeeee?" You told her and she looked around before she left.

"Have a good night Mrs Geller" you quickly shut the door behind her. Taking a deep breath you sighed but then your phone started to ring and it made you groan, you couldn't catch a break today.

"Hey mommm..just a sec" you greeted her in a sing-song manner as you made your way towards the closet. Loki's heartbeat sped as the footsteps approached so he immediately casted an invisibility spell, he wondered why did he even hide in the closet instead of just using the invisibility charm in the first place.

He closed his eyes as the closet door opened and something hit him right in the face. He wanted to squeal but decided against it, once the closet door closed again he inspected the garment that was thrown on his face. It was a brassiere, ladies on Asgard used to wear these too. Huh, why women must torment themselves everywhere he wondered.

Another boring day where nothing interesting happened to you or for you. You were going to turn thirty in a few days and you could feel your life slipping past your fingers. Every person you had ever known in your life were off doing their thing, being successful in their chosen careers, getting married, raising babies and what not while you were stuck in your personal as well as professional life.

"Mom..you know the attack happened in New York right so quit worrying?" Loki heard you talking to someone and you mentioned the attack, the attack that he had caused under the influence of the mind stone.

"Whattt?" You walked towards the refrigerator to take out the chicken salad that you had prepared last night. Your mom just told you that the terrorist had escaped from the Stark tower, it was all over the news "Okayy okay calm down it's not as if he would come here of all places and just attack me in my apartment you know?" You chuckled but your eyes widened in anger as you saw the empty box of Salad. Did you eat it last night? You were too high to remember it. "Look mom I'll call you later, gotta go..food emergency"

As Loki stepped out of the closet he saw a woman in front of the refrigerator, well he saw your jeans cladded plumped arse, you had a white shirt on along with it. And then you turned around. All he heard in that moment was a loud scream that felt deafening to him.

"Stop screaminggg"

There was a man in your apartment. A strange weird looking man, Mrs. Geller was right, oh you were going to die and your soul would haunt this apartment forever. Serves you right for wasting all this time you had to fulfill your dreams and goals in life.

Now you always thought of yourself as the person who'd choose to fight in such a situation but you were getting a reality check now. You had no fight in you, you were frozen in your spot waiting for your impending death by the hands of a burglar. You both kept staring at each other but you finally gasped when you heard the knock on the door.

"Listen to me mortal ..uhhh lady. I do not want to cause any harm so I'd appreciate it if you're just willing to listen to me..just for a moment?" you looked at him dumbfounded, you wanted to run but he was standing near the door and you figured he'd grab you if you even tried that. You grabbed a knife from the knife stand and threw it right at him, which he caught with his mere fingers. Ofcourse. Who did you think you were? Hawkeye?

"Brilliant of you to pass the weaponry into the hands of a supposed intruder" He inspected the knife and then you watched it disappear but for some reason you chose to ignore it, maybe he had a superpower, you were living in a world where anything could happen to anyone except you ofcourse. You were as basic as they come.

"What do you want? I have nothing alright, no valuables, I'm almost broke, almost is the key word here, if you want money I can..just umm transfer it to you, do you have Venmo or any other apps? I also have weed if you want that" He looked at you confused before he attempted to walk closer but you grabbed another knife as quickly as you could and took a step back.

"Stay right there mister or..or–"

"Or what? You'd gift me another weapon that I can add to my collection?" You glared at him. How dare he make fun of you? This was your house. Did he say he had a collection of weapons? You looked at him carefully as he stepped closer, your eyes widened in realization. He was no thief. No no, He was the war criminal. How come your mom was right this time?

"Oh my god you ..you are…you are… whattt..whhyyy?" Your voice came out all squeaky and it made him smile.

"Good to know I am popular in midgard now. Would you say my popularity exceeds that of my dullard brother Thor?"

Thor? He said Thor right? So he was the guy who attacked New York. A terrorist was galavanting in your humble abode, great, just amazing.

"Are you going to kill me?" You asked him as you wiped the sweat beads off your forehead. Your breathing has gotten shallower and you were close to passing out.

"No. But I need you to cooperate with me here, I am just as baffled about the situation as you are lady" he answered immediately, you had seen the leaked videos of him in Stuttgart, he was a cruel man, he was definitely going to kill that old man but the Avengers intervened thankfully. You were still trying to wrap your head around the fact that Loki from Asgard was standing in your studio apartment talking to you. Were you still high? You hoped so.

"What ummm how uhh i mean what are you doing here?" You asked him as you crossed your arms. Maybe you should call the Avengers.

"I do not know, the tesseract brought me here, it's eerie but I have a feeling that foolish Stark was up to something" he looked to the side as he thought about it.

"Hah" you gave him a fake laugh and he scrunched his brows. He was kind of attractive in the "I'm a sexy murderer" kind of way.

"What is so amusing?"

"No it's just..we just call him iron man you knowww" you mumbled under your breath. He could see your body trembling with fear so he approached you, probably wasn't the best idea but he really wanted to put you at ease.

"Look I know what you think of me and I do not blame you for your perceptions but I mean no harm here, I don't want to hurt you and I'm not going to, I am giving you my word" he seemed sincere but there's no way you were going to believe the words of an escaped terrorist.

"Aren't you Loki? The loki? God of lies and trickery and stuff? Why would I believe you?" You asked him so he smiled again. Cute smile. No you stop it.

"You know what, I will just sit down here-" he conjured a chair out of thin air and your eyes widened "And you can tie me up if that would make you feel safer around me"

"Huh wouldn't you want that?" You snickered and his face flushed in response.

He passed you a rope, by which you meant, he threw it right in your face but you caught it. Okay you were starting to think now, if he really wanted to hurt you he would have, he has magical powers plus the knife that you gave him like a moron, there's no way you could fight him if he really wanted to hurt you. Right?

"Why did you attack us? What did we do to you?"

"I did not attack you?" He looked at you confused. "Oh you meant the humankind, that's sweet of you to address yourself as one for all, very sentimental. Anyway it is a long long story, do you want me to narrate it all..from the beginning?" he chuckled nervously.

"It's just..you don't seem that evil..why did you hurt those people?" his eyes teared up as you said that. He knew why he hurt those people, he just wished he was able to stop himself before he did.

"I didn't want to, I don't enjoy hurting innocent creatures" he said to you and the sad little voice affected you. So you were really going to ignore him using the words creatures for humans right? "Your name is y/n i assume?"

He asked you so you nodded.

"What do you want, be honest"

"Just let me stay here until I figure this out"

"No no no no no no..Why would I allow a fugitive to stay with me? I'll be locked up too for I don't know.. abiding you and shit" you huffed

"Did you intend to use the word Abetting?" he looked at you all confused and the embarassment was enough to make you want to die.

"Look mister"

"Call me Loki"

"Mister Loki.. Prisoners under 30 isn't the magazine I have aspired to be featured in all my life.. so I need you to get out of here okay?"

"There is no way those incompetent men in costumes could find me here and-"

"They are heroes, and there's a woman in the team, her name is black widow ..they saved lives today..they–" you interrupted him and he interrupted your interruption,

"In case they do find me, just tell them that I was the one keeping you hostage over here, they'll believe you in a jiff i promise" he winked as he finished his sentence. You had to be crazy to allow this right? You had to be insane that you were already starting to believe his words.

"Tie..tie yourself up and let me think"

You passed him the rope and he used the magic to tie himself up.

"That's great..you think I'm dumb..huhh? if you can use magic to tie yourself up then you can get yourself out too" he smiled as you said that. Why did he find this mortal.. adorable in an endearing sort of way?

"Well why don't you do it then? I can't use magic if I don't see the knots myself" he told you so you thought about it. You walked towards him and he conjured another rope for you, as you reached closer you noticed the cuts and bruises on his face, he seemed hurt. He looked up at you and you tried to avoid his hypnotic gaze, why did he have to look so good? He was the sexiest man you had ever laid your eyes upon. Why did he have to be a criminal though?

After you tied him up you walked towards the tv, and that's when you noticed the broken screen so you turned around and glared at him. You watched him waving his fingers and the tv was fixed magically, ofcourse.

"Huhhh you will come in handy..if you know what I mean" you laughed as you turned the tv on.

"I actually do not know what you mean"

You saw the news of him escaping and his brother Thor has appealed to everyone that Loki was dangerously manipulative and thirsty for blood so if anyone was to spot him anywhere, there was a helpline number they could call.

"Oh my god there's a number." you jumped up and down in excitement and relief, what if Thor was right and he was manipulating you? Ofcourse Thor was right, he was his brother. You had made up your mind to call but when you looked at him, there was the saddest, mopiest, cutest look you had ever seen on a man's face.

"I can not win" he mumbled under his breath so you walked towards him.

"What did you say?" You asked him and when he looked at you, his eyes were welled up.

"Very well then, you can call them if you want" he told you so you walked towards the kitchen and picked up your phone. The look on his face was still bothering you though. What if there was a story behind what he did? No no.. people got hurt, he was evil, call the bloody Avengers and get yourself out of this problematic situation. But what if he was not evil? Iron man harmed so many lives before he became a hero. You felt crazy playing this mental circus with yourself.

"I must be losing my mind" you mumbled as you put the phone down on the kitchen counter "Okay fine..but if you're even thinking about hurting innocent people again let me tell you mister I'll keep that number on my speed dial and I will call it asap" you crossed your arms as you walked towards him and yelled at him so he nodded like a child

"Okay good..ummm are you like hungry or something..oh wait you must not be hungry since you ate my salad" you glared at him and it made him smile again. You'd rather see that then the glum look on his face.

"I do apologize for my ill-mannered conduct, should have asked for permission before I fed on that well seasoned grass you had prepared for yourself " you rolled your eyes at the comment

"No need to judge..I'm trying to lose fat here"

"You don't have to"

"Really? Because lyla keeps telling me that I'm getting chubbier everyday"

"Well this Lyla needs to shut her muzzle then" your face flushed as he looked at you intently, was he checking you out? Maybe In your dreams.

"I'll untie you, you can go shower.. you smell like blood and burned leather..the bathroom is there" he chuckled as you said that. You weren't wrong about that.

"No need to untie me and I truly appreciate the offer" he flexed his arms and you gasped as the rope was shredded in pieces. He could have gotten out anytime he wanted.

"May i?" He raised his hand forward so you placed your fingers on his large ass hands that seemed to be the size of minnesota. He brought your hand up to his lips and gave it a chaste kiss.

"You're very kind my lady, thank you, I won't disappoint you i promise" he mumbled as he turned around and stepped inside the bathroom. You kept staring at the pieces of ropes all over. He could have gotten out and stop you from calling the Avengers but he didn't. He could have hurt you but he didn't. Huh

"Wash your hair ..you look like a pine tree" You yelled and you heard him laughing at the comment. That was beautiful. How dare he?

What were you getting yourself into here?

🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄

Here we go folks 😁

Tag list (if you want to be tagged or removed let me know)

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@nixymarvelkins @stupidthoughtsinwriting @littlespaceyelf @fictive-sl0th @huntress-artemiss @eleniblue @violethaze @anukulee

#loki x female reader #loki #loki x reader fluff #loki x reader #loki x reader insert #loki x reader fic #loki x you #loki x reader angst #post avengers loki #canon divergent au

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one-britt-to-rule-them-all · 8 months

Text

Jack Howl in heat

Character: Jack Howl [Twisted Wonderland]

Genre: NSFW

CW: | Fem!Reader | Wolf mating behaviour | Jack being in heat |

Format: Drabble

Word Count: 2.5K

Disclaimer: All characters are portrayed as legal adults.

Minors, DNI. NSFW content below.

He finally had you all to himself. He had you away from the two blithering, Heartslabyul morons that were continuously glued to your side, away from your screeching little pet, and away from every student vying for your affection and attention. Tonight, Jack had you all to himself.

In the dead of night, he found himself in your bedroom at Ramshackle, away from Savanaclaw. Over his dead body, Jack would let the other beastmen get a whiff of your potent scent.

Maybe he should have told you of his “predicament” beforehand, but for the reserved wolf beastman, it was an embarrassing thing to admit. But hey, even though Jack hadn’t outright told you what was going on, you had been receptive to every single one of his advances — a good sign. He’d been holding back for a while, but his patience had reached a boiling point, and now was the time to go in for the kill.

Had you been more well-read on wolf behaviour, you would have put two and two together. Maybe you should have done more research on wolves the moment you began dating a wolf beastman, but alas, you did not. Naively, it didn’t quite cross your mind that Jack’s wolf features extended beyond aesthetics.

The night had started simple; just you and your lover in bed, Jack resting on his back as your head laid on his chest. A muscular arm was draped around your neck, holding you. You thought Jack seemed a little tense — stiff and heart rattling against his rib cage, but he was the one to initiate this impromptu cuddle session, so you weren’t quite sure what had him in a tizzy.

And, although very quiet, you were sure you could hear quiet little whines coming from Jack. The sound was so uncharacteristic to hear from him that you’d lifted yourself from his chest, looking at him with a questioning gaze and a tilt of your head.

“Jack…? You okay?” You asked.

He didn’t offer much of an answer, only a grunt as he clenched his eyes shut and tensed his jaw. Unbeknownst to you, Jack was fighting against his instincts. The primal urges in him begged him to throw you down, manhandle you and mount you to ram his aching cock deep inside you. But he wanted to do this right.

Honestly, he’d have to pat himself on the back for the self-restraint he’s showing… especially with your scent invading his senses.

Instead, he sat up, looking you in the eyes with his usual intense and hardened gaze, yet it seemed even more piercing than usual, completely lost in thought as he tried to gauge the right moment. The words ‘Should I?’ were echoing in his mind.

But his patience wavered, and it was now or never to go for it.

Leaning in, Jack pressed his lips against yours in a seemingly innocent, quick kiss that you immediately reciprocated. Then came a second kiss and a third until your lips began melding together in a heated make-out session that grew in fervour and intensity as the seconds ticked by. His arms snaked around your back, pulling you flush against his broad chest.

You let him take the lead, revelling in the passionate affection Jack was offering you.

It wasn’t that Jack despised affection or anything of the like. Coming off as cold and distant, he was reserved and was never one to show much emotion; instead, he chose to keep a rugged exterior and front despite the warmth he held within his heart for those who had earned his respect. You were okay with that, finding his “tsundere” ways rather amusing once you found out just how easily flustered the wolf beastman could genuinely be when called out on his obvious facade.

Needless to say, Jack had you like putty in his hands with this sudden burst of assertiveness, pressing his body against yours and giving you some of the hottest open-mouth kisses you’ve ever received.

Then, you found yourself being lowered on your back, Jack hovering over your body and panting as he looked at you in a way that was comparable to a predator staring down its prey.

He lowered himself closer to your face, opting to rub his nose against yours in a surprisingly cute display of affection that had you laughing softly. The sound caused Jack’s ears to flatten against his head, somewhat embarrassed by your reaction to his behaviour, yet he felt so relieved to finally act on his instincts.

He rubbed his face on yours before dipping lower to your neck, where he continued to nuzzle you. You would have continued giggling at the ticklish sensation, but your laughter was abruptly cut off by a soft moan slipping your lips as his tongue glided against your skin, licking with fervour.

Like an animal grooming his m– oh. The gears in your head began turning, and you had an inkling of what had gotten into Jack.

Against your leg, you could feel the sizeable bulge in Jack’s pants rubbing against you. Slowly rocking his hips, you could feel him humping your leg as he grunted against your neck. You couldn’t fool yourself: you were also aching between your legs.

And oh, you certainly weren’t fooling Jack. Halting his movements on your neck, he raised his nose and sniffed the air. As the scent of your arousal hit him, Jack’s ears flattened as he clenched his eyes closed and grit his teeth, a guttural growl rumbling from deep within his chest.

“… ‘M in heat,” he finally admitted, ears still flat as he refused to look you in the eye. His cheeks flushed a very light red, breaths coming out heavy.

Ah. That’s what you thought. His behaviour leading up to this moment now made sense.

“Why didn’t you say so? You big dope…” you said. “Come here.”

He sighed in relief as you gave him the green light, whining as his cock jumped when another wave of your scent invaded his senses. Ah, Seven, he needed you bad.

Before you knew it, you found yourself stripped of your clothes, thighs spread and held wide open by Jack’s tight grip. Panting, he stared long and hard at your glistening cunt, licking his lips. Lowering his head between your legs, he pressed his nose against your folds and inhaled your scent — an act of marking for wolves. The sudden act had your cheeks flushing with mild bashfulness.

Fuck — Jack couldn’t get enough of your scent, grunting and groaning with satisfaction as he took in your pheromones. He could smell how ready and willing you were for him to mate with him. His tongue slipped out, sloppily lapping at your slick pussy. He knew from your scent alone that you were ready for him, but he needed a taste of those potent pheromones of yours.

“Mm… J-Jack,” you moaned, gripping his hair.

He grunted in appreciation, drunk off your pussy. He stopped momentarily, inhaling your scent again before licking you again, marking you as his with every lick. You’d smell like him, and every beastman in Savanaclaw would step aside whenever you’d walk by. They’d all smell the unmistakable scent of a wolf’s claim. Even Leona himself would think twice about approaching you. Jack would make sure of it.

When finally satisfied, Jack pulled away from his spot between your legs, making you whine at the loss of contact. You writhed, spreading your legs further in an attempt to entice Jack to come back; your swollen clit throbbed, needy for release.

Jack gripped your hips, a flush of red painting his tanned cheeks as he took a moment to admire his work: your cunt all puffy and needy, dripping with a mixture of your arousal and his saliva. He sniffed the air again, satisfied to smell himself on you.

“Can’t hold back anymore… s’too much,” Jack said in a low tone, almost in a growl.

You yelped a bit as Jack flipped you over and onto your stomach with impressive strength. His large, rugged hands gripped at your flesh as he handled you, placing you in the exact position he wanted you. Maybe a little clichéd for a wolf to want to fuck you in doggy style, but it was instinctual for Jack — the perfect position for optimal mounting.

Not that you were complaining. It wasn’t like you’ve never thought of getting “face down, ass up” for this man.

The tension was thick as Jack’s clawed hands slid along your skin, gripping your ass and spreading your cheeks to get another good look. You could hear the sound of clinking metal as Jack undid his belt, a quiet “fuck” escaping him as he freed himself from the confines of his pants.

You inhaled sharply as the weight of his large cock – fuck, he was big – slid against your wet folds. Surprise filled your being as you felt a distinct bulge at the base of his dick, causing you to look over your shoulder.

“I… have a knot,” Jack admitted, almost sounding embarrassed. “It’s a canine thing.”

That made sense, and you’d be lying to yourself if you said you weren’t at all curious to take it. You could hardly wait to try something so… foreign to you. Men back in your world didn’t have knots, after all.

“Jack, please…”

And as needy and desperate as Jack was at that moment, you didn’t have to beg any further. With a steady grip on your hips, he slid his cock into your depths, stretching you out oh-so beautifully. The wolfman was in fucking heaven — your warmth, the tightness of your pretty little cunt pulled a primal growl from deep within his chest, sending shivers down your spine.

Large and rough hands held onto your hips with a tight grip, claws somewhat digging into your skin as if trying to ground himself — to prevent himself from pounding you, instead giving steady and shallow thrusts to ease himself slowly, allowing your pussy the time to adjust and accommodate his size.

Then came his knot, and fuck, your jaw fell slack as your breath caught in your throat in a breathless moan. If you thought Jack’s cock was thick, then you had no words to describe his knot.

“Almost there, babe…” Jack grunted.

And with one final, hard thrust, Jack’s hips were flush against your ass, knot stretching your walls beyond anything you’ve ever felt before. Ever the caring boyfriend, Jack allowed you a moment to adjust to the sudden, foreign intrusion and to catch your breath — heaven knows you’ll need it for the fucking coming your way.

Because as soon as you gave Jack the go-ahead, the room was filled with the lewd sounds of your wet pussy being ravaged by Jack. With his strength, Jack had no qualms manhandling you, roughly grabbing you by the hips and pulling you back and forth onto his cock, practically using you as a fleshlight – in the heat of the moment, all reservations were gone, and Jack couldn’t do anything but act out on pure instinct.

Fast, deep, making sure to bottom out with every single thrust, Jack was hitting all of your most sensitive spots; all you could do was stay there and take it.

“F-Fuck… that’s good,” Jack groaned. “You take me so well, babe.”

His hands momentarily abandoned their spot on your hips to pull his shirt over his head, discarding it to the floor.

Incoherently moaning his name, praising the size of his cock, how good he made you feel – that’s all you could do, and oh did Jack revel in the praise. You could practically feel his cock jump inside of you with every moan that slipped past your lips.

“J-Jack…! H-Harder, please!” You begged, wanting him to fully let go and give in to instincts.

“E-Eh…?” Jack said, pace momentarily slowing. “Are you sure you know what you’re asking?”

“Mhm… please,” you said, glancing at him from over your shoulder with watery, widened eyes that screamed desperation.

“… you asked for it. Ain’t no going back after that,” Jack said.

Your breath momentarily hitched before a loud, lewd and prolonged moan escaped you as Jack slid his cock out, only leaving the tip in, before pounding back in with breathtaking force – over and over again, his pace only increasing with every thrust.

Oh, Jack was growling, revelling in the rough, primal fucking. Instincts fully taking over, he lowered himself, warm and sweaty chest pressing against your backside, mounting you.

The only thing keeping you from collapsing from the rough treatment on your body was Jack’s arm, which was wrapped around your abdomen, keeping you upright. His free hand slid up to your throat, gripping it right under your chin to tilt your head up, and with your ear now right next to his mouth, you could hear every deep grunt and feel every puff of his warm breath.

He was all around you, his larger frame easily overpowering yours as he pressed himself against you. Your senses were filled with him – overwhelmingly so – going straight between your legs as the thread that had been steadily building in your core threatened to snap.

And slowly but surely, you began feeling Jack’s knot swelling, growing bigger and further stretching your fucked-out pussy.

“G-Gonna come soon,” Jack grunted, nipping at your ear. “Gonna fill you up, mark you as mine.”

Although holding on by a thin thread of sanity, Jack refused to come before you did, and so letting go of your throat, he reached between your legs to stroke steady circles around your clit.

Planting your face into the sheets below you, effectively muffling your loud screams of ecstasy, the extra stimulation to your sensitive clit pushed you over the edge. Clamping down hard on Jack’s cock as you came, Jack muttered incoherent curses at the sudden tightness.

With a few final, powerful thrusts, the tip of his cock hit your cervix, his knot swelling to its full size as he emptied his load right at the entrance of your womb, growling loudly and throwing his head back.

Panting, sweaty and completely spent, the two of you remained connected. Glancing over your shoulder, you sent Jack a cute smile, paired with your droopy and tired eyes, effectively flustering the wolf man. His ears flattened as a hue of pink decorated his cheeks, looking at you like a deer caught in headlight before looking away bashfully.

Adorable, truly. As if he hadn’t just rearranged your insides.

Still, Jack had some bite left in him as he gripped your body, shifting both of your positions so that you were both lying on your sides, Jack spooning you with his cock still firmly nested inside your warmth.

“… my uh… knot should go down in about thirty minutes. We’ll be stuck together until then…” he says in a gruff but somewhat shy tone.

A half-truth, really. While his swollen knot would normally keep him locked with his mate, you weren’t a wolf beastwoman, and so your walls didn’t clamp down hard enough to remain locked with him.

Really, Jack just wanted a few more minutes of intimacy with you but was too shy to admit to it outright.

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #jack howl #jack howl x reader #twisted wonderland jack howl #twst #twst x reader #twst jack howl #disney’s twisted wonderland #disney twst #kinktober 2023 #savanaclaw #vision of temptations 2023 #nsft #minors dni

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