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from-izzy · 14 days

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[01:34] | nct na jaemin

Your ceiling fell.

pairing » nct na jaemin x gn!reader (lmk if i missed anything!)

trope/au » established relationship au!, non-idol au!

genre » boyfriend na jaemin who picks you up even though he's tired, summer is annoying to the reader (sorry, i'm really hating summer rn), fluffy fluff with a tinge of angst, clothes stealer reader!, but you never end up using it because you got too tired and fell asleep, i love na jaemin (can you tell?), reader is the little spoon, jaemin is so caring and cute (i'm in love with him), jaemin brushing his hand through your hair

word count, estimated reading time » 2496, ~9 mins

warnings (lmk if i missed anything!) » jaemin is taller, outside clothes on the bed (i don't do this but it's cute here 😭 forgive me), oh...it's not proofread 😭

navi/masterlist!! 🤍

recently went back to my wips and found bits and pieces that could work together and meshed them together as best as i can 🤣 just whipped up this little thing whilst i was at it hehe

also, not going to be specific but will you believe if i said that this is based on a (my) true story? 🤠 it's been...messy 🤠 to say the least.

thank you for proofreading (when you're supposed to be focusing on school) @cupidjyu !! 💕

Your ceiling fell.

Well...

To be exact, there isn't a hole that lets the spiders and birds able to look down and see the base of your kitchen sink but when the inside surface of the roof fell, so did the insulator that kept the house warm during the frosty winter, and cool in the scorching summer. Because of the unstable roof condition, your whole family was wary of putting the air conditioning system on. The vibration from the machine and the sound waves themselves may be the little push it needs to send other parts of the roof crumbling.

You hate the hot weather so much.

In this period of the summer, when opening the windows was barely an option as it also let the heat through, it has been hard even to do anything remotely productive. With every move of your body, it generates heat and energy, which when mixed with the thirty-five-degree heat, all you want to do is lay on your bed and let the sweat evaporate off your skin with the help of your tower fan. That's how the mornings would go. Sometimes when you're not too tired from the previous day's work, you would go and take shelter in the library, turning confused heads when you would be wearing a jacket as overtime, it became too cold.

The worst thing is that there has been no word from the insurance company or the people who could help to fix the hole in your ceiling. Unfortunately, it did fall during the peak holiday season but at this point, when it’s no longer the festive season, no one in your family understands what’s going on with the back-and-forth messy conversations to fix the issue.

The past three months have been full of frustrating calls to your boyfriend but Jaemin has been picking up your phone call at the second time his ringtone rings, greeting you with that emphasising smile of his as he sees the layer of moisture on your face. At first, you tried to give him the best smile you could, but you eventually broke down after the first month, completely done with changing your clothes every day in every hour. Jaemin, though busy with his own responsibilities, never fails to take you out whenever he can, accompanying you in your aimless night time walks or accompanying you to the library where he would start reading a random book while you snooze on his shoulder.

Today is one of the nights where you can’t handle sleeping in the house, too hot and uncomfortable for your eyes to even think about closing. You guiltily text Jaemin, asking if he’s able to have you over and within a few minutes, the black-haired arrives at your house, air conditioner blasting in his car and a genuine smile greeting you as soon as you step in. He waits outside his car with his oversized shirt and short pants; his usual summer attire. He kisses your frown away as soon as you rush into his arms, dropping your bag of clothes to the floor. His affectionate gaze for you grows, cupping your cheeks in his hands to hush you from the apologies that you would say for going out so late at night even though you insisted that the five-minute walk was fine to do.

“No,” Jaemin juts his lower lip to you adorably. “Not letting you do that!” He presses another quick peck on your lips that makes your cheeks heat up and makes you a stuttering mess. “I’m hungry! Let’s go grab some food first!”

You let out a knowing chuckle, shaking your head at him fondly as you know that just means another movie night that will go on until five am. To Jaemin, this is the best kind of date: the one that is unplanned but is planned at the same time. With the way that you’re literally having the worst summer ever as well, all he wants to do is to make sure that at least when you look back on this summer, you will remember his air conditioner blasting in his room. Bonus, the later you sleep, the more time you’ll have in a cooled, comfortable and private environment.

But you know deep down, that you will always remember his warm, kind heart first out of all.

With hands full of takeout from the nearest fast food to his house, Jaemin talks you through his list of movies that he wants to check out before you both fall asleep. He was so excited that he nearly missed the step up to his room, almost waking up the whole house with how his body would tumble down the staircase otherwise. But oh how much he would if it meant that you wouldn’t be crying on the humid, summer night.

"It's perfect, Jaem."

You comment when Jaemin asks you about the temperature of his room and he gives you a relieved look, smiling in satisfaction to know your thoughts. Jaemin starts to unload the snacks in his arm on his study table, prompting you to do the same. He turns his sleeping laptop on, waiting for his device to start up.

In the meantime, his attention falls on you once more. "You must've been overwhelmed." His arm spreads open, silently asking if you would accept his gesture.

All you gave was a quiet hum and it momentarily worries him before you step to bury your head into his broad chest. You sigh into his perfect body temperature that balances the coolness trapped in the four walls. The corners of Jaemin’s lips rise as he starts shifting his body side to side, giving the hug a little more dynamic and comfort as he starts to sing your favourite tune to your ears. His fingers rake across your hair, not minding the whines and complaints you gave about how your hair is disgusting and oily, even pressing a kiss to your scalp to ease your worries.

Your arms start to find home around his waist and your palm grips the fabric of the shirt even more, feeling eternally thankful for having a loving person in your life. A mutter, “Thank you for all this.” Your voice trails off, eyelids heavy and honestly, quiet snores could leave your lips at any moment now.

“Always, bubs,” he muses back. “Maybe we can skip the movie night today?”

The suggestion pulls your lips into a sour smile but you can’t hide the drowsiness in your system after getting small hours of sleep for the past week. “We have food.” But truly, it’s nothing that food can’t fix.

A raised eyebrow meets you when you slightly pull back to see the reaction on Jaemin’s face. “Food and horror movies.”

The shared favourite genre makes you break out into a genuine smile, excited for the movie marathon cuddled up in his bedsheets and the smell of food as you both expose yourself to the light from the computer until the sun replaces the moon. Jaemin watches you excitedly walk back to the door of his room where your bag slumps over on the wall next to the frame.

“You don’t want to wear mine?” The suggestion is said with a smirk from him and your hands stopping to unzip your bag halfway. “Guess not!”

“No! I do!” You drag the last syllable out and when you turn to face him once more, Jaemin only lets out a teasing smile. “Let me steal!”

Indeed, Jaemin already has everything prepared for you, tilting his chin to his bed where some of his and your favourite hoodies are spread across the duvet. You spot the emerald green one, immediately jumping from your kneeling position on the floor and making the neat pile topple over at your eagerness.

Jaemin feigns fake offence and an exaggerated gasp, “All my hard work!” He weeps to which you just roll your eyes as a response, continuing to take out your shower and night necessities to prepare for the night.

“Alright.” A heavy sigh follows after, “I’m going to sho—”

But before you could take another step towards the bathroom, a pair of arms pulls you backwards, your back colliding with a chest that you know all too well. You can’t see the expression on his face but another thing that you know about Jaemin is when he leans down to press his cheek on yours, humming once more into your embrace, his cheeks are painted with hues of red and pink—his love for you overflowing from the simple back hug gesture.

“What you doing, Nana?” It deepens his blush, melting with how the nickname naturally sounds lovelier coming from you.

“Just go brush your teeth and shower in the morning.” He mumbles against your cheek. “I want to go on this movie marathon with you right now.”

“But you hate it the most when someone lays on your bed without washing up.”

That’s also true. He does hate that a lot.

The idea of outside germs reaching the place where he would be closing his eyes and be in another space for hours never fails to bring a scowl to his face and he always makes sure everyone who visits his space is aware of that fact.

But it’s you—and Jaemin loves you more to overlook that fact for a day.

“I’m planning on changing the sheets anyway.” He shrugs his shoulders nonchalantly, “Plus, I literally get grease and pieces of chocolate on there anyways so I think I may need to change my mindset about that rule now…”

The mention of the substances makes you gasp, a similar one to the one he directed at you before. “Na Jaemin!” The playful slap on his arm only makes his hold against your body tighter, sending you both into a fit of laughter.

Amid the chaos you created, Jaemin makes his point clear with the previous topic, throwing himself still clad in his dirty clothes onto his bed and taking you down with him. You yelp at the sudden fall, throwing everything out of your hands to muffle the sound of your mouth, aware of the sleeping couple not too far away from this room.

“Oops! Gotta change it tomorrow, I guess!”

“Na Jaemin, stop! I’m still going to shower anyway!”

So begins the shoving and wiggling for you to escape his strong grip on his bulky arms. You know shortly after running out of breath that it’s a better choice to rest your head on his pectoral, giving up on both the shower and possibly the movie night. The laughter dies down, but never the love that Jaemin shows for you. On the back of your head, you can feel his thumping heartbeat, the rhythm making your eyelids fall naturally.

Jaemin carefully slides you over to the mattress on his side, turning his body to face the girl he loves the most in this world. His eyelashes flutter quietly, quieter than the humming of the white rectangular machine stuck high onto his wall. He doesn’t bother waking you up, content with the tiny snores you let out through the small gap between your lips.

“And to think you were scolding me minutes ago.” Bopping your ice-cold nose with the pad of his pointer finger. “Okay, at this point you’re going to freeze.”

Though exhausted and body screaming to just fall asleep then and there, Jaemin pulls himself back to the edge of the bed, standing and stretching his four limbs. He quickly retreated to the connecting bathroom, picking up your discarded items that he made you toss to avoid his parents from waking up and scolding the young couple in love—though he knows they will just scold him given how much his parents adore everything about you.

Scared that you would soon wake up in the very uncomfortable posture that you have right now, more than half your feet dangling off the bed, Jaemin swiftly completes his night routine, skipping the one that would make his dentist question his habits but he pushed the thought aside for now. As quiet as he could, he makes his way over to your still peaceful figure. His knees sink into the bed, eyes observing you while he holds his breath to avoid any more unnecessary movements than the ones he’s making right now.

An arm lifts your upper body, and Jaemin quickly jumps behind you. You did stir a bit in your sleep when Jaemin undoes the noisy metal zipper of your jacket but nonetheless, he succeeded without bringing you back into full consciousness. In his head, he imagines himself doing a little celebratory dance under the shining disco ball, all the fluorescent light on him on the dance floor. Then, the same arm is placed on your upper back once more but now paired with his other arm tucked under the back of your knees. You quickly adjusted to the position, Jaemin raising your body high enough for you to relish in the remnants of his cologne on the crook of his neck.

“I love you, Nana.” You confess to him earnestly. “I love you so much…”

Jaemin stands on one side of the bed, scanning the curves of your face intently as if he has never noticed the small mole on the slope of your nose. He couldn’t fight off the want to steal another kiss from you, bending his neck down to slot his soft ones to hug your plump ones. A satisfied hum is brought out after, Jaemin mirroring your content heart with another lingering press on your forehead.

Soon enough, your body is finally between his bouncy mattress and his weighted polyester. Immediately, your hands roam over to the other side of the bed where Jaemin would usually be, groaning when all you felt was the crinkles of the cotton that is not his shirt.

“Okay, okay. I’m here.” He assures the dissatisfaction painted on your face first by flicking the light switch off and then by wrapping your smaller frame into his own.

The muscles of your whole body relax for the first time in a while at the thought of going to dreamland—maybe it’s the Jaemin effect. A hand makes its way to the curve of your head, fingertips half-buried into your strands. A slight gush of wind can be felt on your nose but you don’t mind the proximity, even continuing to scoot even closer, pleased with the hand on your lower back that pushes you in closer.

“Sleep tight.” His eyes landed on the brown bag across the room and his muted laptop that plays your favourite comfort movie. He lets the movie play, strategically moving his forearm to block the blue light emitted. When he confirms that his shadow falls upon your lids, he places the lightest kiss as a final ‘goodnight’. “I love you.”

So maybe, you don’t hate the hot weather as much as you thought.

navi/masterlist!! 🤍 tags (send a dm/ask if you would like to be here or removed!): @k-labels 💙🤍 @k-films 🤎🎞️ @kflixnet 📺🍿 @sanaxo-o

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kquil · 9 months

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🍪 : cookie with Siri and giving their baby a bath. Like sitting in the tub together and bathing the baby 😭💕

A/N : this is a mini series and Remus's version is on the way i promise! (thank you for requesting a whole mini series of this adorable scenario, my lovely (ɔˆ ³(ˆ⌣ˆc)) this one is a little angsty but still fluffy ٩( ^ᴗ^ )۶

Sirius isn’t used to a loving family, nor is he used to engaging in fun family activities together; it wasn’t a concept that he was used to. So when you suggested taking a bath together with your baby, he was stunned but definitely up for for giving it a try.

“I-Isn’t this a little bizarre, doll?” Sirius asks, embarrassed as he watches you undress before him despite his preceding playboy reputation at Hogwarts.

“Not at all, Siri,” you giggle and bring your daughter into your arms as you step into the bath, sinking down to sit in between his outstretched legs as his arms sit atop the bath’s surrounding edges, “and besides, it’ll help Aurelie with her bath phobia,”

“She has a phobia?” Sirius’s brows immediately furrow as his worried gaze affixes onto his pouting, teary-eyed daughter, who's being more fussy than usual. How has he not noticed before?

“Yeah,” you muse sadly, cooing at your daughter and kissing her temple comfortingly, “she’s always fussy when it comes to baths so I thought that maybe if we sit with her, she’ll learn to like it,”

Sirius sighs in disappointment, “I’m a bad father…” his face turns sour as he thinks about his own upbringing and how his parents’ mistreatment of him is now affecting him as a father and, therefore, his beloved daughter too.

“I know what you’re thinking and you need to stop it right now Sirius,” your voice is firm and strict as you turn his chin to look him in the eye. There’s anger, sadness, guilt and disappointment in his grey eyes, a whirlpool of tormented emotions still haunting him, “you’re working so hard providing for us so it’s okay for you to miss out on Aurelie’s bath times so you can rest,”

“But-”

“None of that-”

“Wahhhhh!” your daughter’s shrill cry breaks your moment and you both turn to tend to her discomfort.

“What’s wrong, princess?” Sirius coos, his soothing voice and the familiar touch of his hand against her tiny back immediately having an effect on her.

Observant as ever, you spot the problem instantly and lean your head against your husband’s shoulder so you could whisper to him, “she probably saw your distress and got worried for you too. Maybe she thinks you both share a fear of baths,” you giggle and shuffle yourself and your daughter closer to your husband, “lets show her that there’s nothing to fear,”

Smiling warmly, the earlier negative thoughts long forgotten, Sirius coos at his daughter, “don’t be frightened baby,” he creates small waves in the water with his hand. He then presses his fingers together and lifts a small cup of water up to cascade over his daughter’s small shoulders and back, “see? It’s safe, you’re safe,”

“Daddy will keep us safe and happy, darling,” you coo and kiss her cheek as Sirius kisses her other cheek, “we can relax when Daddy’s around,” it takes a little more convincing but Aurelie finally seems to be comfortable enough with the water to splash it with her tiny hands and squeal in delight.

“Good girl, see? All safe~” Sirius coos, expression warm and so full of love as he looks adoringly at the manifestation of his and your love ⏤ his perfect little princess.

“Good job, Daddy,” you coo and kiss his jawline, feeling his cheeks round into a smile before he turns and kisses your temple.

"Je t'aime tellement,"

TRANSLATION ⏤Je t'aime tellement : I love you so much

1K MILESTONE EVENT | NAVI.

#☀︎ : 1k milestone #☀︎ : 1k #🍪 : cookie 1k #sirius black x reader #sirius black #sirius black imagine

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gyuhanniescarat · 6 months

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mr. (not so) perfectly fine | Wen Junhui | Masterlist

: ̗̀➛ summary: Junhui the campus heartthrob and infamous frat boy thinks he knows all there is to know about matters of love and lust. But, through a fucked ass bet with his frat bros, as the weather starts dwindling down and the emotionally charged season picks up, Junhui learns the hard way that matters of love and lust aren't to be played with.

: ̗̀➛ pairing: fuckboy!junhui x naïve!virgin!fem!reader

: ̗̀➛ genre: porn with HELLA PLOT (minors dni! — If you’re not 18+, then see yourself to the door), university!au, goofy comedy, cheesy fluff, angst

: ̗̀➛ rating: (M) 18+ (chapters containing explicit contents will be marked as so)

: ̗̀➛ warnings: fake dating, university!au, junhui's an egotistical asshole at the beginning (my huihuis i'm sorry plz don't k*** me), junhui is slightly aged down (by 2 years), frat and sorority life, loads of stereotypical fall time college activities, mentions of drinking/alcohol consumption. any names of other idols are considered to be OC's/face claims. see individual chapters for a more detailed list of warnings.

: ̗̀➛ collective word count: estimated 20k(+)

💌 MESSAGE FROM JESSI: heyyyy yah cutie pie luvvies! this is my FIRST time writing a series, and my return to writing on kpopblr after 8 months!! 🎉 forgive me if this whole thing turns out to be cringe... but my writing skills are a lil bit rusty. i've been crafting this one for a lil while now, so i'm really feeling hopeful about showing y'all this series.

a huge thanks to the svthub admins for hosting this seasonal collab!! i'm so excited to participate in this project!! and a massive thanks to my june luvvie @wenjunehui for creating this stunning junhui banner for my new series 💕

: ̗̀➛ this series is in conjunction with the @svthub fall-ing for you collab. if you are interested in reading the other fics which are apart of this fall collab (please do, my besties have created some amazing work) i will leave the full collab masterlist here.

: ̗̀➛ there is an official taglist for the fall collab, but let me know if you want to be added to the series taglist (send me an ask, send a DM, or comment).

: ̗̀➛ teaser

m.masterlist • svt.masterlist • navi

apply to join my permanent taglist here (⁠◠⁠ᴥ⁠◕⁠ʋ⁠)

༶•┈┈୨ reblogs/feedback are always greatly appreciated ୧┈┈•༶

if you wanna support my work even more, you can buy me a coffee

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halfway-happyyy · 2 years

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cool my desire (rooster bradshaw)

AN: hi friends! i got sent this message a couple days ago and have been obsessing about it ever since. 18+ only! this piece is under a cut for obvious (sexual) reasons. warnings include: public oral sex (f receiving) masturbation (f&m), dirty talk, swearing, etc. hope you enjoy 💕

Pairing: rooster bradshaw x female reader (she/her pronouns)

song inspo: i'm on fire - bruce springsteen

Of two things Rooster Bradshaw is absolutely certain: the first one is that he is helplessly in love with the woman sitting directly opposite him. The second one is that she’s just announced that she’s never had an orgasm. He thinks he misheard her the first time around, so he strains above the rock music blaring from the bar's jukebox and asks her to repeat herself.

“I've never had an orgasm.”

It exits her mouth in the kind of nonchalant way in which one might announce that it's raining outside, or that they're hungry.

Rooster glances at Hangman who wears the same confused expression, and suddenly she laughs, and Rooster reckons it’s a sound he'd be happy to listen to until his dying day.

“Gosh, if I got compensated for every time I got the same reaction I could retire and live happily on a private island somewhere. For some reason it’s a concept most people have a hard time coming to terms with.”

Bob is just as floored as the rest of the gang. He pushes his wire-frame glasses farther up the bridge of his nose and asks, “When you say never?”

Rooster watches her shrug.

“It’s been my experience that in the heat of the moment, most people just don’t care.”

And Rooster suddenly thinks- I care.

Coyote tips back the rest of his beer, setting the bottle on the wooden tabletop with a resounding clank. “I’d accept this challenge any day, and all I would need is ten minutes to do it.” He tosses her a wink and Rooster’s cheeks flame from equal parts envy and second-hand embarrassment.

“Wow, Coyote. Ten minutes only? Not exactly selling the experience here, are you?” Her teasing tone and wry smile causes the rest of the group to dissolve into fits of low whistles and peeling laughter.

“Wait- so you mean to tell all of us that you fly combat planes for the United States Navy for a living and you’ve never experienced an orgasm?” Hangman’s Texan drawl is incredulous.

She nods her head, her dazzling gaze narrowed. “I can’t imagine how the two are related, but yes Jake, that is what I’m saying.”

“I think it’s sad.” Bob murmurs lowly and Rooster can't help agreeing with him. “More people could benefit from taking the time to consider their partner’s pleasure.”

Hangman snorts. “Sex is sex, Bob. Remind me again which fairy tale you’ll be reading before bed tonight?”

“Yikes Jake. I pity anyone who has the misfortune of sharing a bed with you.” She turns to Bob and offers the unassuming pilot a reassuring smile. “Thanks Bob.”

Rooster clears his throat, suddenly self-conscious of the fact he chose not to partake in the festivities this evening. “For what it’s worth, I think Bob’s right. Making sure your partner gets there is most of the pleasure already. At least for me, anyway.”

Hangman slaps his hand on the table twice, his expression triumphant. “Well, there you have it, kid. If you ever get desperate for a lesson, I’m sure any one of us would be happy to offer our enthusiastic assistance.”

She laughs again, and this time it causes goosebumps to bloom on Rooster’s arms. “How generous of you, Jake. Guess I’d have to be pretty damn desperate though, huh?”

Despite every effort, Rooster doesn’t get much sleep that night. Instead, he spends most of his waking moments trying not to think about how she would look spread out before him, ready and waiting and so willing to do anything he tells her. His cock swells at the mere thought of it all, and he knows the only way rest will come for him is if he carves himself out a shred of release. It won't be enough, but it'll be something. Snaking his hand down the front of his body, he palms the erection straining the crotch of his briefs.

“Fuck,” He breathes out and dips a hand beneath the elastic waistband to pump slowly along the length of his thick shaft.

His eyes fall shut as he pictures her before him; can practically see her arousal drip from her as she touches herself the way he wants her to- the way he knows will have her coming undone for him. Spitting into the palm of his hand, he continues working steadily along his cock. He swipes the rough pad of his thumb over his sensitive slit, swirling the pre-come around it and reveling in the feeling of it as it drips down the underside of his shaft. “Oh god,” He whines out into the still air before him while he shamelessly fucks his fist. He imagines her fucking herself on her fingers; imagines the filthy noises that fall from her lips the closer she gets to her rapture; imagines that he is the sole orchestrator of her pleasure and all of it is enough to get him there. His hips rut desperately into his tight fist, his head falls back against the pillow in unbridled ecstasy, and he comes hard all over himself, his lower abdomen painted with his hot, sticky seed.

Sleep descends on him heavily after that.

“Would you like to go for a drive with me?” It’s been over a week since he’d first thought of her, and he asks her on a whim because he knows if he doesn’t do it soon, he’ll regret it for a lifetime.

She looks hesitant; doesn’t know which angle he’s playing at which is fair, because he’s not entirely sure either. “A drive?” She asks, her head cocked to the side.

Rooster nods. “A drive. We can get drinks or food, whichever you prefer.”

So, she agrees. They drive to a local pizza joint, pick up a large ham and pineapple pie (though Rooster detests the ungodly yellow fruit) and park on a deserted end of beach, their legs hanging off the back end of Rooster’s 1975 Ford Bronco.

“I’m fairly certain I can do it.” He squints out at the setting orange sun as it sinks low over the Pacific Ocean before them.

She washes down the last bite of her pizza with a swig of beer from their shared bottle, her eyebrow quirked high in amusement. “Do what?” She asks, but the glint in her eyes tells him she knows exactly what he’s referring to.

Rooster turns to her, his jaw set. “Give you an orgasm.”

She shakes her head, folds her arms across her chest in defiance. “Believe me, Rooster. Many a brave soul have tried and failed before you. I reckon I may just be broken.”

He gives his head a half-shake. “You’re not broken.”

It’s certainly not your fault no one’s ever taken the time to learn your body.

“Can I tell you something?” She asks, her voice quiet.

Rooster nods.

“That night at the bar last week, when I so readily shared with everyone that I had never had one?”

Rooster nods again, encouragingly.

“I went home and I touched myself.” Her admission is so quiet, Rooster almost misses it.

He swallows hard- tries in vain to keep his voice level, even. “You touched yourself?”

She sucks her bottom lip between her teeth and nods her head. “I was thinking of you.”

It’s Rooster’s turn to bite his lip to keep from groaning out into the humid air before him, and his cock stirs in the crotch of his jeans. “What were you thinking about?”

Her cheeks redden in embarrassment and God, Rooster doesn’t know what to do with himself. “I was thinking about your fingers, your mouth, your cock. I was thinking about how good it would feel to finally be able to come for you.”

“Jesus,” Rooster breathes out. “Did you finish, sweetheart?”

“No.” She murmurs, her tone thick with disappointment.

He gives his head a half-shake, his hazel gaze sharp. “That just won’t do, will it?” Slipping off the edge of the truck, he turns to her, and the urge to reach out and touch her is almost too much to bear. “I want you to show me.”

Her eyes widen in surprise. “Excuse me?”

“I want you to show me the way you touched yourself.”

She glances around at the barren beach, silently weighing the pros and cons of his demand. “Right here?”

“Right here.” Rooster affirms.

Leaning back, she hikes the sundress she’s worn over the tops of her thighs and Rooster’s throat dries like sandpaper when he notices she’s forgone underwear for the evening. He watches with half-lidded eyes as she sucks two fingers into her mouth- gets them nice and slick with her spit, and then dances them slowly down the front of her body to her clit. Rooster braces his arms on either side of her legs and watches her work her magic. She starts off slow, by pressing firm, steady circles into her swollen bundle of nerves. Just as he had predicted over a week ago, her arousal nearly drips from her slit and he has to take a deep breath to center himself to keep from swiping a fingertip down the length of it. He just knows it tastes heavenly. His cock jumps at the mere thought of tasting her- and he doubts he’ll be able to put off touching himself for much longer.

“How does that feel, sweetheart?”

Her eyes flutter closed and all she can manage is a low, desperate mewl.

“You want more?” Rooster asks and all she can do is nod her head. “Give yourself more, then.”

She does as she’s told and inserts a finger into her hot, wet core, and it’s all Rooster can do to keep from groaning out, loudly. “Like this?” She gasps, and he nods above her in approval.

“Exactly like that, sweetheart. Keep going.”

“Wish it was your cock,” She whimpers, and Rooster swears to God, this is the sexiest thing he’s ever been privy to. Her words send what feels like every ounce of blood in his body to his dick, and he palms the front of his crotch, needily.

“It will be soon, baby. Just need to be patient. Need you to be a good girl and come for me.”

She inserts a second finger into herself and cries out at the full sensation, her other finger still pressing roving circles into her clit. Rooster peppers kisses over her the expanse of her exposed collarbone, encouraging her through it all. “That’s it, sweetheart. You’re doing so good. You keep going like this, and you and I’ll both be coming apart in no time.” It’s quiet while he studies her; the only audible noise between them are the obscene sounds her fingers make as she fucks herself with them, and the sweet moans that rip from her throat every couple of seconds. Rooster can feel her start to tremble beneath him; he watches her eyes widen as the realization becomes apparent to her. “That’s right, sweetheart. You’re so close,” Nodding in encouragement, he watches a thin sheen of perspiration bloom over her chest and neck, her lips part and her head drops back, and he doubts she’s ever looked more breathtaking. “Don’t stop now, you’re so close…” He whispers in earnest. “I’ll get you there, I promise.”

Her hands are all but frenzied movement now as she’s trembles violently beneath him and he presses his lips to her temple to keep her grounded to him. “Rooster,” She gasps. And he nods against her.

“If its time, let go. I’m right here, sweetheart.”

Her fingertips grasp at the impossibly hard, warm skin of his shoulder blades. She clasps on to him for dear life as pleasure blooms inside of her like fireworks on a warm July evening, and Rooster’s doesn’t know how much longer he’ll last like this. “Fuck, I’m going to come, Rooster.” She throws her head back and finishes hard around her fingers, her entire body quaking from the effort that took. Rooster holds her to him while she comes down from her high, her body entirely alive and electric with sheer energy.

“God, you did so good just now.” Rooster’s voice is hoarse and wrecked and thick with lust. “Look at you,” He whispers and presses a kiss to her flushed cheek. “How did that feel?”

She swallows hard, still in a bliss-induced trance. “I can’t believe it…”

Rooster chuckles against her. “You ready for one more?”

Before she can answer, he pulls her to the edge of the truck, dropping to his knees in the warm sand. His cock throbs uncomfortably and he brushes a rough palm over it to glean some form of friction. He hovers above her soaked entrance; the sheer, heady scent of her is nearly enough to have him coming in his jeans. He rubs the warm palms of his hands up and down the outside of her soft thighs and glances up at her. “May I show you another way?”

She nods wordlessly, with eyes half-lidded and blown over by hunger for him.

Rooster wants to take his time- wants to savour every single second of this in case it never happens again, but the urge to taste her is entirely overwhelming. He presses hot, open-mouthed kisses to the velvet soft skin of her inner thighs and works his way up, the all-encompassing heat from her leaves him dizzy and breathless with want. He palms his erection, stroking it fervently through the fabric of his jeans and moans against her at the rough sensation of the denim on his sensitive skin.

“Are you touching yourself?” She asks, breathlessly.

Rooster swears to God, he feels her get a little more wet as he nods against her.

He licks a long, wet stripe up the length of her soaked slit with the flat of his tongue and nearly groans out at the taste of her. It’s an unendingly perfect combination of slightly salty and sweet, and he reckons he could get drunk off it if he had enough.

“Holy shit, Rooster.” She whimpers, and her fingers find purchase in his auburn hair.

He nods against her, and grazes his teeth over her swollen clit, earning him another obscenely sexy moan. “God, you taste good sweetheart.” He pulls away from her heat to tell her that, and his breath as it fans out over her warm wetness causes her to quake violently beneath him. He doesn’t allow her a moment of respite before he’s back at it, lapping at her folds like a she’s the most delicious treat on the planet. And to him, she is. His skilled fingertips dance along the length of her thighs, her hips, her ass. He wants to memorize every inch of her body that he can, lest he’s not lucky enough to experience her again.

“God damn it, you’re good at this Rooster.” She swears, and her thighs tighten involuntarily around his head. He grins against her, wickedly. Without warning, he inserts three thick fingers inside of her and the wonderfully full feeling they bring her causes her to cry out into the warm evening air before them. Rooster doesn’t give a flying fuck if anyone hears them at this point; they are exactly where they’re supposed to be. He could die doing this, and he would die a happy man. He fucks his fingers into her with reckless abandon; the first sign of her looming release is in the feeling of her clit against his tongue; how it swells and throbs the longer he sucks at it. “Oh, Rooster…” She keens, desperately. Her fingers tug at his hair, and the sharp burst of pain it brings him causes him to moan against her and the vibrations from that alone are all it takes before she’s falling off the precipice and into his willing arms. Rooster presses a free hand to her lower tummy as she spasms around the fingers still buried to the hilt inside of her and a flood of wetness bursts from her, soaking him and everything around them within a certain radius. Rooster's fingers fall from her, and she whimpers at the sudden loss of fullness. He rests his head in her lap, closing his eyes and trying to focus on regulating his breathing. He’s still so fucking hard right now, it’s a wonder he’s even upright at all.

“Jesus, Rooster, that was something else.” Her voice is raspy and shot from their recent activities and Rooster smiles softly as he listens to the fervent hammering of her heartbeat against the top of his head.

“Told you I could do it,” He laughs, breathlessly.

She giggles against him and his heart soars. “What about you, though?” She cards a hand through his damp hair.

“I’ll be alright.”

She shakes her head, her gaze knowing. “I want you, Rooster. And I’m going to have you.”

Of two things Rooster Bradshaw is absolutely certain: the first one is that he is helplessly in love with the woman beneath him. The second is that he doesn’t know when- and he doesn’t know how, but he is going to spend the rest of his life having her come apart for him like that.

#this was fun to write !!#smut isn't always!!#rooster bradshaw #rooster bradshaw x reader #rooster bradshaw smut #bradley 'rooster' bradshaw #bradley bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x reader #top gun: maverick #writing #smut #rooster bradshaw imagines #miles teller

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corroded-hellfire · 1 year

Note

i can’t stop thinking about as you wish 😩💘 what would eddie have thought of reader on their very first meeting? did he instantly start to have feelings or was it more so when he realised how much the boys liked her and how she treated eddie? my brain is rotting in the best way

big love to you xxxxxx

I am so glad you asked this because I have often thought about these two meeting! I hope you enjoy 💕

Words: 2.7k

[As You Wish masterlist]

This was it. 126 Thorn Court. The address that your sister scrawled on the paper in the indecipherable scribbling that she calls handwriting. A friend of a friend needed a steady babysitter, so your sister sent it through the grapevine the other way that her little sister has always been great with kids.

You hadn’t gotten a whole lot of information from your sister, who in turn said she hadn’t gotten much from her friend either. All you knew was the address that was held in your hand, the name that was written beneath it—Brittany Munson—and that the kids were two boys, four and six years old. The whole time leading up to this moment you hadn’t been nervous, but sitting here parked in front of the house in your used gold car, the job interview nerves are kicking in.

Taking a deep breath, you push the car door open and climb out. As you make your way up to the front door, a strange wave of nerves comes over you. It’s almost a pleasant tingle, like first date nerves, making you let out a confused chuckle. Smoothing your hands down your body, you take one last look down at your outfit of a flowy black skirt and a white t-shirt tucked into it. Assessing that it looks fine, you raise your hand and knock on the blue door. The faint sound of little feet running around meets your ears before a heavier gate approaches the door. When it swings open, you’re not prepared for the sight before you.

A man who can only be described as beautiful stands there, dark curls cascading down to his shoulders, and the prettiest brown eyes you’ve ever seen in your life. He’s tall with a thin frame. Skinny, but toned muscles peeking from underneath his Metallica tee. Had you been asked before what your type was, you wouldn’t have had an answer; your crushes had always been on varied types of guys. But suddenly, you’re realizing this man is exactly your type. Who could possibly be more attractive than him?

You’re so busy taking him in that you don’t realize that he’s doing the same to you. It could’ve been five seconds or five hours, when a little boy comes running over and attaches himself to the man’s leg. This breaks the both of you out of your trance, though neither of you realized the other was in one too.

“Hi,” the man says, his pretty pink lips curving into a smile. A smile that nearly knocks the breath from you.

“Hi. I’m um, I’m here for…” you start, but are cut off by the little boy.

“You’re pretty!”

“Oh,” you say with a chuckle. “Well, thank you. You’re a handsome little boy, yourself.” He grins proudly, looking from you to his dad.

“Babysitter, yeah?” the man asks.

“Yes! That’s me.” You hold your hand out and introduce yourself. His hand slides into yours, rough calluses brushing against your soft skin. The warmth of his hand envelops yours and you’re pretty sure an electric spark travels up your arm at the contact.

“I’m Eddie. This is Luke.” Eddie, your brain repeats.

“Hi!” Luke says, grinning up at you.

“Hi,” you say, giving him a smile in return.

“Go get your brother, please,” Eddie tells his son. Luke nods and runs off somewhere in the house. “Please, come in. We’re really glad you could come by and meet us and the kids.”

“Oh, of course,” you say, stepping inside the house. Eddie closes the door behind you, and you take the opportunity to look around. Directly to your right is the living room of the one-story house. The couch and loveseat look plush and comfy, both facing a dark wood entertainment center that holds a television. The walls are deep navy blue with a few paintings and photo frames scattered along the surfaces. Eddie steps up beside you and you’re once again struck by his beauty.

“Make yourself comfortable,” he says, gesturing towards the couch. “I’ll just go get my wife and we’ll be right back.”

Ugh. Right. He had a wife. And they have kids. That’s why you’re here, after all. But it doesn’t stop you from watching Eddie’s ass as he heads down the hallway. Stop it, you try and scold yourself. This man might be your new boss. He’s probably happily married and content with his life. He doesn’t need some teenager—even if you’d only be one for two more weeks—coming in and fawning all over him.

As you take a seat on the couch, Luke comes running into the room, a smile identical to his father’s plastered on his lips. In fact, Luke is pretty much a shrunken version of Eddie. Except for the eyes, you notice. Luke has bright blue eyes that he must get from his mother. Another boy follows in behind Luke, a little taller and with hair a few shades lighter brown than his little brother’s. He has the same warm brown eyes as his father, but his hair only has a slight curl.

“This is Ryan,” Luke says, poking his brother in the arm. “He’s shy sometimes.”

“That’s okay,” you tell Ryan. “I can be shy sometimes, too. Especially when I meet someone new.”

“Told you she was pretty,” Luke says to his brother, making you giggle.

A beautiful blonde woman walks into the room, Eddie right behind her. The first thought as your eyes land on her is that she could be an actress with how pretty she is. Her heart shaped face is accentuated by long blonde hair that has a bit of a wave to it. Luke’s blue eyes are identical to hers, the mother’s framed by dark lashes and immaculate makeup. She’s a good number of inches shorter than Eddie, with a small frame and curves that any woman would kill for. Watching her as she takes a seat on the loveseat, you subconsciously start to fidget in your seat, fingers tugging on the hem of your skirt.

“So,” the woman says, crossing one leg over the other. Her gaze settles on you and it’s eerily absent of any warmth. Eddie sits next to her, perched on the edge of his seat. He rests his elbows on his knees as he leans forward, hands clasped together. “You’re a babysitter?” the wife asks.

“Um,” Eddie says before you can say anything. “This is Brittany, my wife.” She flashes you a tight lipped, strained smile and you introduce yourself.

“And uh, yes, I’m a babysitter. I’ve been watching kids since I was fourteen,” you say.

“Which was what, two years ago?” Brittany asks, tilting her head. You can tell it wasn’t meant to be mean, it just seems to be the way she speaks.

“No,” you say, shifting in your seat. “I’ll be twenty in a couple of weeks.”

“Are you in school?” Eddie asks, a friendly smile on his face.

“I am,” you say.

“What’re you studying?” he asks.

“Undeclared,” you say, wrinkling up your nose. “Just doing general courses still because I can’t decide what I want to major in.”

“Well, we’ll need you Monday through Friday after school,” Brittany says, jarring both you and Eddie out of the conversation you were having.

“O-Okay,” you say, nodding your head. “All my classes are early, so that’s not a problem.”

“Would you be okay with picking them up from school?” Eddie asks, leaning back on the couch. Ryan walks over and climbs in his father’s lap. Eddie grins and tugs the little boy closer to his chest, letting him get comfortable.

“Of course,” you answer.

“I go to preschool,” Luke tells you, proudly. He plops himself down on the couch next to you, his little legs swinging over the ledge.

“Luke, hush, the adults are talking,” Brittany says. Luke’s face falls and he slinks down in his seat. No wonder Ryan hasn’t opened his mouth, you think to yourself.

Brittany continues to ask you questions, Eddie popping in every now and then to ask some himself. It’s nothing you didn’t expect–you would be thorough with someone who would potentially be spending so much time with your children as well. Though, there are a few questions from Brittany that have you wondering what they have to do with the job. Do you have a boyfriend? How often do you drink? Are you a sorority girl? You notice Eddie seems to be a little perplexed by the questions as well, confusion furrowing his brow every once in a while.

“Well,” Brittany says, slapping her palms down on her thighs. “We’re in a bind and you seem competent. Can you start on Monday?”

“Yeah, I can.” Her abruptness is a little alerting, but you’re keying into that this is just the way she is.

“Do you want to spend some time with the boys first?” Eddie asks, shifting Ryan in his lap.

“I would love to,” you say. “Is it okay if I play a game with you, Ryan?”

The little boy peeks up at his dad who gives him an encouraging nod. He slowly slides out of Eddie’s lap and begins to fidget with his fingers.

“What’s your favorite game?” you ask.

“Trouble,” Ryan says, voice quiet.

“Yeah? That’s one of my favorites too. Do you like that game too, Luke?” You turn to the younger boy to be met with a bright smile.

“Yes!”

“Perfect! Should we go play?”

“Yeah,” Luke stands up and takes your hand. “I’ll show you where it is.”

He leads you down the hall to a closet that’s situated between two bedrooms; the kids’ rooms, you assume. Luke is hardly able to reach the doorknob, never mind the game that’s on one of the top shelves. You grab the box, pulling it down, and once you turn around you see that Ryan has followed you down the hallway as well.

“Where should we play, Ryan?” you ask him.

“The kitchen table?” Ryan asks, voice still soft.

“That sounds good to me.”

“Kitchen is this way!” Luke calls, running down the hall. Ryan walks with you as you follow the four-year-old. Luke’s already sitting at the green kitchen table, ready and raring to go, when you step into the room.

“Would you like something to drink?” Eddie asks, coming into the kitchen behind you.

“Oh no, I’m okay, thanks,” you reply.

Brittany comes into the kitchen and Luke looks between the two of his parents.

“Daddy! Mom! D’ya wanna play?” Luke asks.

“Can’t, baby. I’m busy,” Brittany says. She grabs a bottle of water and shuffles out of the kitchen. Luke juts out his lower lip and turns to his father.

“Sure,” Eddie says, smile lighting up his face. Luke instantly mirrors him, a gleeful look about him as he begins to take pieces out of the game box.

You sit across the table from Eddie, in between the two boys. It’s decided you’ll be the red pieces as Luke explains the rules of the game—which you already know, but let him discuss anyway.

Ryan goes first, and the game play begins around the table. Despite him being the most excited, Luke seems to have the worst luck as he can’t get his pieces free from home. He becomes more and more frustrated as the game goes on, eventually thick angry tears tumble out of his eyes.

“Hey,” you say with a frown. “What’s going on?”

Luke rubs at his eye, nodding at the game board. “Can’t move.”

“Aw, Luke. It can be super frustrating when things aren’t going our way, I know. Do you want to take a quick break so you can calm down? We won’t skip your turn.” Luke nods, his curls bobbing up and down with his head. “Sometimes it helps if I wash my face and take a few deep breaths. But not at the same time or you’ll get water up your nose!”

Luke giggles and a smile curls on your lips.

“M’kay,” Luke says as he slides out of his chair. When you face forward again in your seat, Eddie’s looking at you with a small smile playing over his handsome features.

“W-Was that okay?” you ask, suddenly nervous you overstepped in some way.

“That was great,” Eddie says with a chuckle. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen a potential tantrum thwarted off so quickly.”

His praise makes you blush, ducking your head down shyly. A look at the game board has you remembering that Ryan is winning—and sitting right next to you.

“And you, little mister,” you say, grinning over at the boy. “How’d you get so good at this game? They teach you this in school?”

Ryan’s smile warms your heart, feeling like you’re finally breaking through to him.

“Noooo,” he says. “I’m just good at it.”

“Yes, you are!”

“Ryan’s my little hard worker,” Eddie says, moving some hair out of his son’s eyes. “He puts his mind to something, and he does it better than anyone.”

“I believe that,” you say.

Luke jogs back into the room, hopping back on his chair.

“Feeling better?” you ask, and he gives you two thumbs up.

Ryan ends up winning the game, but Luke comes in second, beating you and Eddie. It may have been because the two of you let him, but what he doesn’t know won’t hurt him. By the time you’re getting ready to leave, Ryan is talking up a storm, telling you about his teacher and his friends and every little thing his mind can think of.

“Can I give you a hug?” Ryan asks when it’s time for you to go. You try to blame the sudden pressure of tears behind your eyes on hormones, but you’re pretty sure it’s not even that time of month.

“Of course,” you say, bending down. Ryan throws his arms around your neck, and you squeeze him in return. Luke is right behind him, wanting his own chance to give you a hug goodbye. “I’ll see you guys on Monday, okay?”

“I’ll walk you to the door,” Eddie offers. You hadn’t seen Brittany since she left the kitchen earlier—and that’s fine by you. She’s clearly your least favorite person in the family. Eddie had written down all the information you’d need and given it to you, so you were officially ready for your first day on Monday.

“They’re really great kids,” you tell Eddie.

“Thanks,” he says and the proud look in his eyes has you practically swooning. It really isn’t fair how attractive this man is. How attractive your boss is, you realize. “Is there anything else you need before Monday?”

You shake your head as Eddie reaches for the doorknob. “Don’t think so.”

“Well, if you think of anything, you’ve got my number,” Eddie says, gesturing to the piece of paper in your hand. He has yours as well, stuck on the fridge with a magnet.

“I guess I’ll see you on Monday,” you say.

“Yeah.” Eddie slips his hands into his pockets as he leans against the open door. “You know, I’m really glad we found you. We needed a babysitter, and I was kinda resigned to having to settle for someone. But you seem perfect. F-For the job.”

Cheeks warming, you give him a bashful smile. “Thank you,” you say.

“I should be thanking you. I have to admit I’ll have more peace of mind knowing you’re watching the boys.”

“I promise you they’re in good hands,” you say, reluctantly turning for the door. “I’ll see you on Monday, Mr. Munson.”

Eddie’s silently glad that you’ve turned away at that moment, so you don’t catch the hitch in his breath. There’s no way he can deal with you calling him that all the time.

“Call me Eddie,” he says, forcing his tone to be casual.

“Okay. See you on Monday, Eddie.”

“See you Monday, sweetheart.”

Keeping your composure until you get into your car is harder than it should be. But once you’re buckled in and you see that Eddie had closed the front door behind you, you let out a squeal and throw your head back against the headrest.

“Holy shit,” you say to yourself. “He called me sweetheart. This man is going to be the death of me.”

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #older!eddie #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fan fiction #AYW #AYWS #request

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inlovewithpandora · 1 year

Note

Hey love💕 I was wondering if you could write a oneshot where neteyam finds out reader harms herself?

Thank for this request anon💗! I hope it meets your expectations!

If anyone has any requests leave them in my asks!

Series Masterlist || Main Masterlist || Navigation || Taglist

Part 1 (here) || Part 2 || Part 3

This story was inspired by the song above^

- I'm tired -

Pairing: Neteyam x Fem! Omatikaya gf! reader

Both characters are 19!

Warnings: self harm ( very descriptive) suicide ideation, attempt, extreme angst, slight physical/ emotional abuse

If your not comfortable with this type of writing please click off

Word count: 1,645

You and Neteyam just recently started dating a few weeks ago. The first time you saw him it made a feeling that was foreign to you course through your veins. When you meet him and got to know him he made you feel an emotion you've never felt before, Happiness.

Every time he came by your pod to whisk you away to somewhere special in the forest you felt nothing but pure bliss.

But when you weren't around you him you felt melancholic, lonely, depressed, and every other negative feeling under the sun. The environment you lived in was toxic and it was ripping a piece of you away every day.

You were trying to ignore the pain and heartache but it wasn't working. you were trying to find healthy ways to cope like weaving or hunting but it wasn't working. The only thing that would help is cutting, making small slits into your navy blue skin that would release crimson-colored liquid. Watching the blood drip down your arm is the only thing that would help you feel better and would make the pain stop.

You lived at home with your father and he was an alcoholic. When you were born your mother died while giving birth to you and that was the last day your father showed any positive emotion. He abhorred you for taking the love of his life away and he made sure you knew it every single day.

You were sitting in your part of the pod trying to avoid your father's alcoholic rage but you couldn't because he decided to come find you and spew his hatred all over you.

He came and pulled the curtain back which revealed you sitting on your woven mat. As he was towering over your small frame you could smell the alcohol seeping from his pores, "What are doing in here?!"

"N-nothing father I'm just making a necklace for someone", A couple of days ago you and Neteyam were sitting by a pond and he told you how he needed a new necklace because he lost his other one so you decided to make him one.

"Who is it for?! Is it for that boy you've been running around with?!" He yelled which startled you. You hated when he yelled because it always made you cry. Instead of responding you just sat there silently looking down at the floor which told your father he was correct about his assumption.

He let out a dark chuckle before continuing to yell at you, "He is only using you for your body, do you think someone could really like you?! That someone would want to actually mate with you one day?! You have to be the dumbest na'vi around to think that. Look at you, you're pitiful. Always crying and sulking around this house. You're always cutting your arm like some deranged freak! What boy would ever want someone like that?!" He yelled with venom coming out of his mouth with each word that escaped his lips

All you could do is break down into a crying fit. You felt like your father was right, why would someone want to be with someone who felt like their only escape was harming themselves? You felt like whatever you had going on inside of you could rub off on Neteyam and you didn't want to corrupt him with this sickness.

Your father saw drops of water flowing down your face and it only made him angrier, "WHAT ARE YOU CRYING FOR? HUH? THERE IS NO REASON FOR YOU TO BE SHEDDING ANY TEARS! IF ANYTHING I SHOULD BE THE ONE CRYING, YOU TOOK MY MATE FROM ME! EVER SINCE YOU CAME INTO MY LIFE IT HAS BEEN NOTHING BUT HELL!" He shouted at you furiously

He crouched down to your level and harshly grabbed your bicep, yanking you up so you could stand on your feet. He then extended your arm, looking at all the scars that ran down your skin. He began to speak but this time he wasn't yelling, he was calm but you could still hear the maliciousness in his tone.

"I wish you were the one that died that day, not your mother. Next time you decided to cut yourself make sure you finished the job and go live among Eywa. I can't stand to have you living in my house and making me live in despair." He let go of your arm and threw it to your side. He lifted his alcoholic beverage to his lips and began imbibing enormous amounts of it before walking outside the pod.

As you stood there with sobs emerging from your throat you decided that you were tired. You were tired of your father's emotional and sometimes physical abuse, you looked down at your arm and could see a purple outline on your arm from his tight grip.

You were tired of feeling like this, you need the pain and heartache to stop. You needed this feeling of sorrow to go away. You looked around your pod and grabbed your knife and put it in its sheath and grabbed your shawl and wrapped it around your arms and began walking to Neteyam's Family pod.

You wanted to talk to him and tell him how you felt about him before you went to see the Great Mother.

As you walked you heard a group of girls talking about you as you walked by, "Look at her, She looks awful" one of the girls said while laughing

"Yeah I'm surprised she even came out of her pod, she's been locked up in there for almost a week" one of the other girls chimed in

They continued saying all these nasty things about you and it made you feel even worse than before. Neteyam was in the tree above, looking down at the event that was unfolding. He watched you run away to a deeper part of the forest. He immediately climbed down the tree and began to follow you to see if you were okay.

He hasn't seen you in almost a week and he's been worried about you. He came by your pod to try and talk to you but every time he came your father sent him away.

As you were running you didn't know where you going until you found yourself in front of a small pond. You sat down and looked at your reflection in the water, as you looked at yourself you couldn't even recognize the person you saw anymore. It was like you changed into a totally different person. You looked at yourself and felt disgusted, you felt like you looked repulsive. As you looked at your puffy eyes and the dark circles around them you felt so much pain and agony.

You pulled your knife out of its sheath and pressed it again your skin. You knew by doing this it would make you feel so much better, you would finally be at peace. You could finally see your mother and live among your ancestors.

As you were about to penetrate your skin and create a gash so deep that it would bleed out until you took your last breath, you heard someone call out your name.

"Y/N!" Neteyam called out. You turned and saw so many emotions on his face, he looked at you horrified by what he saw you doing to your body.

As you looked at him all you could is cry even harder, "Neteyam please leave"

You didn't want him to see you in this state, you didn't want him to see you so broken.

"Y/N what's wrong? What's going on?" Neteyam asked you as he sat down next to you. As he looked at your arm he saw multiple old scars on your arm and a bruise on your bicep, as you followed his gaze all you could do was apologize to him even though you didn't know why you were doing it.

"I-I’m sorry Neteyam I just can't handle the pain anymore, I'm tired of feeling so miserable. I'm always crying and I'm so weak. Nobody likes me not even my own father, the person who's supposed to love me the most. I feel like I'm going crazy, I feel like I'm a freak" you told him as you let out sobs in between every few words

"I don't want to live Neteyam. I want to be with Eywa where I can feel peace, I need to feel peace."

As you rambled without properly thinking clearly, Neteyam was horrified by your words. "Baby, why would you say that?" Neteyam asked you as his voice broke a little. He hated hearing you speak about yourself so harshly and it broke his heart to hear that you wanted to end your life

"Because it's true! Every single thing I said was true"

"Y/N you are not a freak, you are beautiful and I love you with every fiber in my body. Whatever is going on with your father I will help you figure it out. I will be there for you and help you through these feelings until they have faded away. I will be here for you always, but you can't leave me. I want you to stay here with me so we can grow old together, Okay?" he talked to you with so much conviction in his voice some tears slowly streamed down his face

"Okay, Neteyam" is all you could muster up and say. You wrapped your arms around his body and clung to him. He embraced you and kissed you on the cheek " These feelings won't last forever, we'll get through this together" As you laid your head on his shoulder for the first time you felt like someone cared about you. As you laid in his embrace you felt a feeling you'd been longing for, something you wanted for a long time.

Love & Peace

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I hope you enjoyed💗!

Likes, Comments, and Reblogs are appreciated💗!

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 10 months

Text

By His Command 3

Summary: the commander arrives. (Handmaid AU)

Warning: this series will contain violence, dystopian aspects, rape and noncon, blood, coercion, possible pregnancy and other dark elements. Please read these warnings and beware.

Character: Lloyd Hansen

Note: Thank you for reading! Also feedback and comments if you dont mind. Maybe a reblog. 💕💕💕💕

The martha comes to fetch you as the sky dims outside the iron bars. You follow her to the kitchen where she has a sparse array of produce. A few potatoes, some leeks, and a clove of garlic.

“You will help,” she says bluntly.

“Praise be,” you reply but receive only a sharp look.

“Peel,” she takes out a peeler and puts it before you. “We’ve had no handmaid, so a guardian delivers the produce. It is never enough.”

You nod and go to work. You drag the blade along the skin, stripping it away, and let it drop to the counter. You pick out an eye from the potato and set down the naked spud, grabbing the next. That martha chops with heavy, short thunks against the cutting board.

When you’re done, you gather up the skins. She points you to the bin and you dump them there. You rinse your hands and face her. She puts a pot on the stove, ignoring your expectant gaze. You don’t dare ask what to do next as you only feel in the way.

“We’ll do a stew, bake some fresh bread,” she instructs, “tomorrow, you will go to Loaves and Fishes so we can fill the pantry.”

“Praise be,” you agree. She sighs.

She dumps the ingredients all together in the pot, adding some pork bones for flavour in the broth and some rise to round it out. It’s better than what you got at the center but you won’t presume that you’ll share the same stock.

“Martha,” the wife enter’s in her blue dress. Long straight sleeves and cinched waist. You bow your head so your bonnet hides your face. She sidesteps you, shouldering you away without acknowledgement.

“Mrs. Hansen,” the martha falters, her previous derision gone.

“Toss the stew, we’ve received a duck from Commander Bodecker. You know he loves to hunt.”

She puts a crate on the counter. The martha reaches to slide it towards her and pulls back the cloth to peer inside. You look at your feet, wiggling your toes in your red socks.

“The Commander has returned,” the wife continues, “the table must be set.”

“I will have the handmaid do it,” the martha confirms.

“Pray that she can handle such a task,” the wife rebukes and sweeps around, strutting out without even a glance in your direction.

The martha reaches into the crate and pulls out the dead mallard. You wrinkle your nose at the mussed green feathers. You look away.

“Well, would you rather lay some spoons out or undress this?” She asks brusquely.

You go to the cupboards and pull a door open. You only find plain metal canisters. She comes over and shuts the door, opening the next to reveal the plates. You bring one down, then a second. She slides a drawer out.

“Take one for yourself. Three,” she instructs.

You wince and pull out another plate.

“When you dine with the Commander and his wife, you say nothing, you look at nothing but your plate, you eat only what they allow you,” she hisses.

“I understand.”

“If only you could.”

She counts out the cutlery and puts it atop the stack of plates.

“Napkins beside the stove. Wrap the silverware.”

You go to the drawer nearest the stove and find the pale white napkins trimmed with blue flowers. You add them to your lot and the martha points you through the archway that looks into the dining room. You hear her mutter as she turns back to the duck.

You roll up the cutlery tightly in the fabric. Like swaddling a baby. You go around, chair by chair, plate and cutlery.

As you arrange the last, only thinking then of the glassware, a soft noise brings your head up. A man in navy blue leans in the doorway. You did not hear him or sense him. You cannot guess for how long he’s been there but you can guess at his identity.

You dip your head down and step away from the table, “Commander.”

He breaks the threshold and strides around the other side of the table. You keep your chin down, jaw locked, as you listen, don’t look. The glimpse of his face floats in your vision. Tidy combed hair and shaved sides, a trim of hair across his lip, and handsomely forged features.

He stops behind a chair and you feel his gaze on you.

“Blessed be the fruit, Ofloyd,” he rolls the name on his tongue.

“May the Lord open,” you eke out.

He chuckles. You bite your lip. The only people who laughed were the aunts, and it often meant trouble. He grips the back of the chair.

“I am the lord’s agent but it will not be him who does the… opening,” he intones, his tone dripping salaciously. “So, Ofloyd, will you open yourself to me?”

You don’t know how to answer. This is not how the aunts speak; or the guardians; or the handmaids.

“Praise be,” you gulp.

He snickers and twists his grip on the back of the chair.

“You have no idea,” he slips a hand down, brushing along the front of his trousers, “praise, there will be.”

He growls and leans back on his heel. There is no time to respond. He is already on his way. As quickly as he appeared, he is gone again, leaving only dread and the scent of cedarwood.

#lloyd hansen #lloyd hansen x reader #dark lloyd hansen #dark!lloyd hansen #the gray man #au #drabble #series #handmaid au #by his command

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ellethespaceunicorn · 4 months

Note

I'm so glad to find a black woman writing for Lloyd 😭thank you for your service ma'am!!

How would you think Lloyd would react to his lady matching his outfits? Like, maybe he doesn't know she's matching until they see each other later in the day, but when he does, he's all....ohh yeeeah

Once again, thank you for your work and your brain! 💕💜🌟

I am so glad to be able to get out these little stories and headcanons (and trust me, I love making headcanons, so send me prompts pls)

~thank you for the ask nonnie!!! headcanon under the cut~

warnings: daddy kink, domestic!lloyd sorta, a mini dive into lloyd's closet, written with black curvy woman in mind

there are many words you can use to describe lloyd hansen

sociopathic

methodical

drop-dead gorgeous

but of all the things you enjoy about your man, your favorite has to be his wardrobe

i mean, the man has enough outfits to open a boutique

and his closet is color coordinated, of course

and you have to give it to him, he can dress well, perfectly polished and everything fits him like a glove

that tight little ass of his is always on display in those tight pastel or khaki pants he wears

the first time you decide to wear something to match him is when he puts on that yellow, grey, and white striped polo that you hated on the hanger but that looks so good on him that you wanted to sink to your knees and greyish tan straight-leg chinos

and he looked so fucking good when he left the house this morning and you were salivating like the thirsty hussy you are

you get dressed in a yellow ribbed cotton button-down spaghetti strap dress and it fits over your curves like a second skin

you go about your business of running errands and by the time you come home, lloyd is on the couch again enjoying a lowball of D'USSÉ XO with his feet up on the table in those god awful mocassins that you wish he would get rid of for a sexier shoe but whatever

you drop your new bags of clothing and come over to straddle Daddy's lap, adjusting your dress so that the opening of buttons is right at your apex

he lets his hands roam over you until they settle at your hips

"don't you look pretty today, sunshine...love this color against your skin"

"thank you daddy"

the second time you are matching him gets his attention

he is wearing this slutty little mock turtleneck and some beige slacks and he looks delectable, the top is so tight across his pecs that you wanna put your face in between his tits and

he calls and wants you to meet him for lunch and you have the perfect outfit to match him

a black bodycon dress with an opening in the back that is only held together with a flimsy little string with a small string of pearls around your neck

walking up to the restaurant after being helped out of the car by your driver, you see daddy looking over the menu with his brows furrowed, searching for what he craves until his head pops up at the sound of your heels clacking

"hey daddy, how was work?" you say, kissing his lips before taking a seat across from him

"work was murder, as always, sunshine. but enough about work, look at you! lookin' good enough to eat, pretty girl"

"thank you daddy"

while you look over the menu, you can see lloyd in your peripheral vision looking past his menu at your relaxed posture

"they don't have what i want on the menu"

"what did you want daddy?" you close your menu, expecting him to suggest a different restaurant

"you"

the look in his eyes has you shook, hungry eyes with pupils blown stare back at you

i guess he likes the dress

the third time you dress like him, he gets the hint

especially when it is a little obvious when you watch him do his morning routine

showering, shaving, moisturizing, hair...and that his routine

he chooses a patterned navy and white polo and dark blue pants and you pull out a shiny blue dress that is about knee-length with frilly accents and off-the-shoulder sleeves

you dress while he does and he watches you with amusement as he puts on his watch

his eyes are on you while his hands are in his pockets, you are pulling on your heels and looking up at him

"what?"

"so how long have you been matching everything i wear, sunshine"

you just smile and finish up the buckle on your shoe

"i have no idea what you're talking about, daddy"

he just chuckles and kisses your neck and exits the bedroom

you follow him out and put your hand in his

he pulls your joined hands to his lips and lays a kiss on your ring finger where a large diamond sits sparkling in the light of the sun through the windows

you beam with pride, knowing you made the big mean scary lloyd hansen into a somewhat domestic daddy...

🫠🎀🥺

#chris evans #chris evans characters #lloyd hansen #lloyd hansen smut #lloyd hansen x reader #lloyd hansen x you #ellethespaceunicorn headcanon #lloyd hansen x black!reader #black!reader #black!fem!reader #black!oc #headcanon #my headcanons

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bradshawsbaby · 1 year

Note

can i request? with the one and only bradley bradshaw. they dated in the past, but they broke up bc of long distance. a couple years later, they are at the hard deck and he brings another girl. a game of truth or dare starts, and something happens that makes her say, “i never said i love you cause i though i wasn’t enough for you!”

This is officially the last request from my anniversary celebration! Thanks for sending in such a fun concept, and I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it! 💕

How had you ended up here?

Tonight was supposed to be a fun night out for a few drinks with the girls after work, but instead you’d somehow found yourself in the middle of a heated game of Truth or Dare with your ex-boyfriend, his date, and a small group of his closest friends.

Your heart had nearly ceased to beat when he first strolled into The Hard Deck, his arm wrapped around the waist of some pretty redhead you couldn’t help but despise the second you laid eyes on her. Even if it hadn’t been for the mustache and the Hawaiian shirt, you would have known it was Rooster Bradshaw from a thousand miles away. That cocky strut wasn’t one you could soon forget. And it seemed that his years away from North Island had only made him bolder.

One of your co-workers, Lorraine gasped from her spot beside you at the bar, nearly spilling her beer. “Is that who I think it is?”

“Who?” asked Jillian, another of your co-workers, a nice girl who had just arrived at North Island a few months ago. She craned her neck to try to see where Lorraine was looking.

“My ex,” you cut in smoothly, not wanting Lorraine to start rehashing your whole sad saga. “I heard he was back in town,” you added quickly, shrugging as if it didn’t affect you in the slightest. “He was part of that uranium mission, and it seems the Navy’s keeping some of them stationed here as part of a special squadron.”

You had known it would only be a matter of time before you ran into each other.

“You should go talk to him!” Jillian grinned, a naive excitement blazing in her eyes.

Talk to him? Talk to the guy who had left your heart shattered in a million pieces when he’d left North Island without a backwards glance?

“No,” you said firmly, taking a deep gulp of your drink. “Besides, he’s here with someone else.”

You and Rooster met when he was at TOPGUN the first time around. He was a young and brash naval aviator, desperate to prove his mettle, and you were a newly minted Navy nurse, fresh out of your graduate program. Your connection had been instantaneous, your fling passionate and intense.

But when graduation was over, so was your relationship.

At the time, you insisted to Lorraine and all the others that it didn’t bother you, that you’d known exactly what you were signing up for when you got involved with a Navy flyboy.

You were lying.

And damn, if that man and his mustache didn’t still have an effect on you all these years later.

At the sound of someone calling your name, you turned and let out a gasp of pleasant surprise. “Phoenix! Bob!” you exclaimed, hugging them both. You remembered both of them from their times at TOPGUN as well. In the back of your mind, you recalled hearing something about them being part of the group that had been recalled for the mission.

“Come over and have a drink with all of us,” Phoenix insisted after the three of you had spent some time catching up. “Payback, Fanboy, Coyote, and Hangman are here, too,” she said. “And Rooster.” She said that last part with a look of feigned innocence.

Before you could think better of it, you found yourself agreeing. And that’s how one drink became three, and the whole lot of you wound up scattered around a table near the back, caught up in a ruthless game of Truth or Dare.

You couldn’t look Rooster in the eye, but you could feel his eyes on you all the same. Your skin grew warm under his scrutiny, and you couldn’t help but wonder what the girl on his arm was thinking. Considering the fact that about halfway through the game, she huffed something against his ear and then stalked off towards the bar alone, she wasn’t thrilled by his lack of attention.

After Rooster completed Fanboy’s dare to chug some strange combination of beer and hot sauce, he looked at you again, and this time you couldn’t help but look back.

Your mouth instantly went dry. How could he be even more handsome than you remembered?

“My turn,” he murmured, never once taking his eyes off you.

“Me?” you questioned, feeling a knot develop in the pit of your stomach.

“Truth or Dare?” Rooster asked, leaning a little bit closer to you.

“Truth,” you replied quickly, before you could take the time to really weigh your options.

It looked to be the answer he was hoping to hear. “Have you ever lied about being in love?”

Your heart plummeted inside your chest. You knew exactly why he was asking you this question. You glanced nervously at the others for a moment before squaring your shoulders and telling him, “Yes.”

Rooster tensed at that, his dark eyes even more intense now as he continued to stare at you. “Lied about being in love or lied about not being in love?”

“Hey! Only one question per turn!” Hangman interjected, pushing a handful of peanuts into his mouth.

“Excuse me,” you muttered, suddenly feeling much too hot in the crowded bar. You nearly tripped in your effort to get away from the group of naval aviators, hurrying out a side door and onto the beach.

You could hear Rooster calling your name from behind you, but it only made you try to run further away.

“Hey!” Rooster called, finally catching up to you and slowing you down with a hand on your waist. “Answer my question. Please,” he said quietly, a silent yearning in his tone.

“I lied about not being in love, okay? Is that what you want to hear?” you demanded, crossing your arms firmly over your chest.

It had been a couple nights before his TOPGUN graduation, and the two of you were lying in bed together. You knew he would be leaving soon and you were trying to steel yourself for the disappointment of being the one who got left behind.

“Can I ask you something?” he whispered, holding you in his arms in a way that you wanted to commit to memory forever. When you nodded, he continued, “Do you think you—have you ever been in love?”

Before meeting him, you would have said no. But these past several weeks had been a whirlwind and had showed you everything your life had been missing up to that point. So now the answer was yes because you were without a doubt in love with Bradley Bradshaw.

But you couldn’t tell him that. He wasn’t going to choose you, not when he had his whole future ahead of him. A future that wasn’t on North Island. So you told him an answer that you thought might make it hurt less when he inevitably left you.

“No.”

You figured you were just imagining the tightness in his jaw and the way his body stiffened. He rolled over in bed then and didn’t say anything else for the rest of the night.

And then graduation came, and he was gone.

But now he was standing in front of you once more, his dark eyes sparking with some emotion, some intense depth of feeling that you didn’t quite understand.

“Rooster,” you murmured, unable to stop yourself from getting caught up in the orbit of that gaze. “It doesn’t—”

“Did you lie that night? That night I asked you if you’d ever been in love?” he pressed, taking a step closer to you. You felt dwarfed by his large frame.

Unable to form words, you simply nodded, eyes wide as you looked up into his face.

“Had you been in love before or did you love me then?” Rooster demanded, his tone not exactly rough, but definitely firm.

“Rooster, please—”

“Please just tell me,” he begged, something cracking behind his hard facade.

“I loved you then,” you whispered, your voice nearly swallowed up by the waves.

Rooster took a step back, raking his hands through his sun-kissed brown curls. “Why didn’t you tell me?” he rasped, shaking his head. “I deserved to know! Why didn’t you—?”

“I never said ‘I love you’ because I thought I wasn’t enough for you!” you exploded, the truth spilling forth at last.

That stopped Rooster dead in his tracks as he lifted his head and gazed into your eyes. “What?” he asked, his question falling heavy like a stone.

“I knew you were leaving and that you weren’t going to look back!” you exclaimed, fighting back the tears in your eyes. “I couldn’t—I couldn’t bear telling you that I loved you, only to watch you leave a few days later!”

Rooster seemed to instantly deflate at your revelation, pain flashing in his eyes. “Did you really think that I would just leave? We could’ve made it work. We could’ve—”

“I didn’t want your pity,” you mumbled, feeling embarrassed now as you wrapped your arms around yourself.

“Pity?” Rooster scoffed, stepping even closer to you and reaching out to cup your face in his hands. “Baby, I was so in love with you.”

“You were?” you gasped, your breath catching in your throat as you looked at him.

He nodded, not letting go of you. “I still am. Even all these years later, I’ve never been able to get you off my mind.”

“Rooster,” you whispered softly, almost reverently. “Oh, Rooster.” Sliding your hands into his hair, you moved closer to him, your body pressing against his. “I’ve missed you,” you confessed, barely wanting to breathe for fear of ruining this moment. You were half convinced it was a dream.

“I’ve missed you, too, baby,” he replied quietly, nuzzling his nose against yours. “But I’m back now. For good. And I don’t want to have to say goodbye again.”

“Truth or Dare?” you murmured, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“Dare,” he smiled, resting his hands on your hips.

“I dare you to kiss me,” you grinned, heart hammering inside your chest.

He chuckled at that, cradling your face in his hands as he leaned in for the kiss. “Easiest dare ever.”

From my “TOP ONE” Anniversary Celebration! (Requests are now closed)

#bradshawsbaby turns one! 🎂#bradshaws baby’s ‘TOP ONE’ anniversary celebration #rooster drabble #bradley rooster bradshaw #rooster x reader #miles teller #top gun: maverick

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stararch4ngelqueen · 8 months

Text

A Helping Hand (18+)

Kyle “Gaz” Garrick x F!reader

Warning: Smut. Fluff and smut. Shower sex, unprotected sex. Light foot injury. Use of pet name Bunny. Word count 2.8K

Summary: Kyle was the first friend you made, and still remained your closest friend to this day. You believed nothing could ever change that, no matter how many times you both found yourselves crossing barriers friends shouldn't cross. Maybe their was always something more hidden underneath the flirty jokes, especially after a single ‘incident' a week prior.

Thanks so much to @mutuallimbenclosure for helping me recover this!! As well as @glitterypirateduck 💕

And also @baufraus just cause 😅

~~~~~~~

"How're you feeling?" Kyle asks once he enters the rec room, seeing you lounging on the old, dark brown corduroy couch, a bland navy colored book in hand.

"Bored, bored and bored." You replied, closing the book after failing to register reading a sentence of the page you've been stuck on. Nothing else was really new for the past week.

Being stuck on base for your "minor" leg injury was the most ridiculous thing you've ever had to deal with during your time in the military.

It wasn't like you couldn't walk, but you were prevented from attending missions for a reasonably fair while.

"Brought you something to cheer you up, love." He extends his hand, offering you small wrapped bundles of pineapple candy.

"What kind is it?'

"Same flavor of sweet I offered you the first week you arrived here. Remember?"

Of course you remembered the first day you arrived, especially recalling the kindness Kyle Garrick offered you to feel comfortable in your new setting. That very day you learned that pineapple was his favorite flavor of candy, to which you made it a priority on a good behalf to always share that flavor with him when you had access.

"Aww, thanks." You smiled, moving aside to give him some space to sit. Taking a candy for yourself, you tossed your book to the table ahead of you, lounging back onto the couch, being mindful of your wounded leg as he stepped by.

You've been tackling that novel for three hours now, not that big of a story." He sat back on the couch, resting his arm back over the top of the cushions behind your shoulders. "Must be very interesting, yeah?"

"It's dreadful," you sigh, popping the candy into your mouth. Despite the captain's orders, as much as it warmed your heart that Price cared, you downright found it annoying just how much he did, preventing you from going out and doing what you actually signed up for.

"Oh believe me, must be tough going from a bloody fine sniper to simple couch bunny." Kyle commented, gazing on ahead after using his teeth to yank the candy from the wrapper into his mouth, chewing down after a few seconds.

Smiling at his comment, you get a little more comfortable, sinking further back against the cushions, aware of his sleeved forearm slowly settling along the back of your neck.

"Couch bunny? What happened to potato, huh?"

"Eh," he shrugged, "You don't look worthy of being called a spud. Too simple."

"Too simple??" You huffed in utter amusement. "You could do a million things with a potato."

"Yeah," Kyle smirked. "But they aren't as cute as you are Just trving to be honest here."

What a flirt he was.

"Calling me a bunny is just ironic, telling how I'm supposedly too injured to run out into the field." You rolled your eyes, chastising again at the fact that a sprained ankle was considered more than enough to hold you back from doing your job.

"Whatever you say, bunny." Gaz snarkly mutters, growing amused at your annoyance.

Instead of irritated by any means, you could only get yourself to smile bigger at his relentless teasing.

Is he in love with me?

You can't help but question this silly, innocent little thought you had. A quiet one, one he didn't need to know of just yet.

Despite the countless times the both of you shared throughout your friendship, via amused, not-so-subtle glances and snarky jokes tilting on the border of friendly and flirtatious, ranging from silly at first towards downright mischievous.

The stares drew a little longer, the accidental touches roamed a second further, the brush of his hand along the back of your shoulder now left your skin tingling.

His new pet name for you did much more than make you blush, but thinking things such as these...

Not to mention what had happened in the armory between you both merely a week ago.

You would've brushed it off as merely all in your imagination, purely out of boredom, but it even occurred when you weren't injured, long before that even, when it was just the both of you in the privacy of your friendship. The word alone being the most polite one you could think of to describe whatever occurred between you both.

Not only that, Kyle played along so willingly, no risky comment bothering him in the slightest, yet always remaining so respectful on your behalf making you wonder if it truly was all in your head.

"Why're you being sweet on me lately, Kyle?" You curiously question, watching a small smile stretch across his face as he peered at you.

"Because you're my fellow comrade, fellow Sargeant, an' my friend. There's no harm in helping you out when you're hurt."

You giggled again, finding your cheeks tingle with a comforting warmth.

"Keep talking like that, my heart's gonna melt."

"As long as it's in my hands, believe you'll be alright."

You meet his gaze, utter surprise stretched across your features. As quickly as so, your brows softened the longer you looked into his eyes, adoring the beauty of their rich, natural brown color, marveling in the lost message he shared to you without saying a word of it.

He is in love with me.

You proceed to sit up, making Kyle's brows raise in surprise, concerned that his comment may have taken things a little too far. "You alright?"

"Yeah," you nod, wincing slightly as you move your leg. "Yeah, just need to get out of this room already."

"Need to be carried somewhere, bunny?" He questioned with a hint of a tease, watching you immediately look back to him, an unsuspecting glimmer in your eyes.

All the plethora of not so innocent teasing, the brush of his hands along your hips as he helped you to your room, your hands lingering too long along his broad chest and biceps, led up to you gently being supported against your bathroom door the second it shut behind you, looking Kyle in the eye as he supported you in his arms, becoming the wall of security you needed.

He admired your body as he helped you wash it, His eyes following the curve of your natural physique; your arms, your plump hips, the curves of your ass. He truly believed he could spend hours in this tiny shower just taking you all in, if it weren't for the battle of arousal the two of you were quickly losing.

You found Kyle still, somehow, managing to be a gentleman, helping you wash along your chest, sudsy calloused fingers halting before the valley of your breasts. He would keep mindful while roaming along your waist, though his eyes weren't so hidden in their longing glare, convincing his hands to settle along your hips, encouraging you to press yourself against the Sergeant.

He hesitated for a moment before hooking his arms under your knees, lifting you effortlessly into his arms.

He carefully balanced you, leaning you back slightly against the tiled wall for leverage.

You let your hand explore his chest, stroking the muscles that decorated his chest. Broad, toned and well sculpted like a greek god, glistening with warm water and residual steam.

You feel his abs brush against your stomach, your hands taking in every curve of muscle along his back, feeling yourself tingle in delight from running your fingertips along his exposed, hot skin.

Your mouths were merely inches away from each other by now, a loving warmth flushing your cheeks, sprinkling heat against his face in utter excitement and nerve wracking love budding like a rose between you both.

"You could have just told me if you wanted to take a shower with me, Kyle. You teased softly, watching him smile and keep his gaze on you alone.

"Trust me, this doesn't even scratch the list of things I wished to do with you, love." Your lips hovered just slightly over his as you spoke. You waited to hear him suck in a sharp breath as you finally kissed him, reveling in adoration from the familiarity of his lips from last time.

His cock, throbbing impatiently against your thigh, was difficult to wrap your hand around, you noted as your fingers dipped lower passed the V-Line of his pelvis.

Brushing against the flushed, weeping tip with your thumb, your fingers curling against the almost velvet-like skin, reveling in the obvious fact that he was hard.

Really hard.

"Christ's sake." He murmured, kissing down the side of your cheek softly as his arms resecured their hold on you. The underside of his cock stroked deliciously through your folds, rubbing directly against your clit once he guided you properly against him, creating an uneven, eager dance between you both, fueling the urge you so desperately wanted to satisfy.

You kept your arms secured tight around him whilst moaning your sighs of delight in his ear, the man refusing to even allow the soles of your quivering feet to touch the tile ground.

"Fuck, You like that, yeah?" His lips stuck to your neck, sucking marbled bruises into your skin. What do you want from me? Want me to take what's mine, love?"

Saying this, he bucked himself hard against your core, restraining a grunt against your skin as you whined.

You cling to the back of his head, tangling your fingers through his coarse, wet hair.

"All you gotta do is ask." He states before waiting for your answer, providing gentle reassurance, proving he wouldn't once judge you for saying otherwise.

"Please, You exhale breathlessly in between hushed breaths of air.

His hands slipped lower, squeezing handfuls of your ass in his palms.

"Please What?" He carefully asks.

"Please Kyle," you look at him with the sweetest of pleading eyes, speaking his name like the richest of honeys dripping from your tongue. "I need you."

You sounded absolutely gorgeous, his heart aching his chest with every beat, still in awe that this was happening.

"Are you sure?" He asked with caution in breaking this daydream as his forehead pressed to yours, water dripping off his chin down to your chest as you cradled his face in your palms.

"Kyle, please. I need you.”

You needed him. He couldn't count how many times he imagined you saying such simple words in his head, genuine with their grand meaning.

At this point, you weren't sure if Kyle was playing dumb on purpose just to get a rise out of you, or if he was relying on that genuine reassurance as the final push.

He gave a soft grin, stealing your lips in yet another sweet, passionate kiss while guiding the tip of his cock against your slit, having you both wince at the contact.

Your walls were soft, hot and slick from pure arousal and utter need, encouraging him to slip inside with such ease.

Severe chills shot down your spine, despite the temperature of the shower remaining the usual lukewarm. Your mouth remained open as you tilt your head back, forcing yourself to relax as he willfully slips inside.

He resecured his hold on you while his cock stretched you open, encouraging your walls to invite him in until he slowly, but almost bottomed out inside, remaining as still as he could, battling against his own patience to fuck you agsinst the tile walls until each piece shattered.

You rolled your hips the best you could in this position with a needy little whine. You drew his earlobe into your mouth, suckiling softly there before whispering for him to not hold back, to fuck you like he always wanted.

To take those fantasies of him claiming you in the unlikeliest of places, to pretend it was the two of you alone in the privacy of a hushed corner in the armory, to imagine that the simple, innocent kiss you both shared there continued further than that, revealing to him how you wished he fucked your sanity out against the very table you had leaned against, recalling how he cradled your chin with such a featherlight, caring touch before squeezing your throat as your nails scratched down his back, raw lust threatening to cloud your heads both then and there.

"Please." Came your soft, guttural plea. The cherry on top of the filthy, sugary sundae.

There was something about your tone of voice, or maybe it was just feeling your warmth throb around him that made him buck his hips into you with a low groan before proceeding at a frantic pace, the fat beads of water clinging to your skin bursting upon impact as skin hit harsh against skin, nails digging through muscle as your cries drew even louder.

You squealed in response, digging your nails into his back as your head settled back against the wall. It didn't take long for both of you to fall into a steamy, eager rhythm, the air between you quickly being filled with soft little pants and moans, greatly mixed with sharp, nasally grunts and muffled moans against your neck. You pressed your face against his shoulder in a vain attempt to quiet yourself, wrapping your legs around his waist to hold him as close as possible, feeling your own release approach quicker than you would've wanted.

You raked your nails down his back as his thrusts began to slow, making up for the pace via bucking into you harder, hearing the hitch in your whines as his cock hit against your 9-spot, quickly adjusting his grip on your hips so you wouldn't slip.

"That feel good, love?" He purrs against your neck, feeling you frantically nod.

"Yeah-fuck. Please, don't stop." You reply through quick speech slurred in between multiple whines, scratching down his back as he thrusted repeatedly inside you.

"God, you feel-" his deep tone cuts off with a sharp, throaty groan, "-So fucking good."

He grunts against your neck, his nails digging into your hips as he bucks deeper into you, encouraging you to break through your self inflicted chains of restraint to moan louder.

"Christ, once you're better, you're gonna be bouncing in my lap like a true little bunny, y hear me?" He grunts low in your ear while guiding your hips along, feeling you clench with his words. "You're gonna take my cock real nice and deep, like a good girl, an' you're not stoppin' till you're well fucked an' full."

Never in your life would you have expected such unique speech from a soft speaking, well-mannered man, but you absolutely adored it. Everyone had a different, hidden side to them, one that he gladly revealed now, one you'd revel in and sink your claws into for as long as possible.

Your fingers find hold of his dog tag chain, drops of water rippling off the steel as you give a light tug. This alluded him into kissing you once more, tasting the remnants of sweet pineapple on his tongue.

"You gonna do that for me?" His hand reaches up to hold your face, guiding you to look him in the eye via caressing your cheek, leaving you to admire his handsome face contorted in pleasure, dripping with residual water.

"You gonna become my little fuck bunny, love? My little doe-eyed sweetheart? Fuck- you gonna take my cum like a good girl, yeah?"

Frantically, you nod to every single word, your end teaching you faster with the mix of his words and change of pace.

To guide you further, his hand went lower once abandoning your cheek, giving your breast a delightful squeeze.

To guide you further, his hand went lower once abandoning your cheek, giving your breast a delightful squeeze before pressing his thumb against your clit, rubbing light circles to feel your hips buck against his.

It didn't matter if this went too fast, you both had each other now. The time for longer sessions would come later, but for now, Kyle had to see you come. He had to see how your brow furrowed as your orgasm rattled your body, to feel your back arch against his palm, to experience the impossible squeeze of your cunt gripping him for dear life, providing him a sensation he'd work tirelessly to feel again and again.

Seeing you now, your furrowed brow releasing as your lips parted to exhale the most beautiful cries he's ever witnessed, made him feel like the luckiest man in the world.

"Oh-Goddamnnit. Shit." Kyle grunted lowly, his voice cracking towards the end of his tone from the feeling of your walls squeezing his throbbing cock, groaning the moment rich spurts of his hot, white cum splattered across the insides of your soft, gushy pussy.

His head settled against yours, groaning richly through his nose as his orgasm washed over his shoulders, clutching you close as you rode through yours, clinging to him for that security you craved.

Not once did he drop you, or show any signs of loosening his grip. Even in the love sick, honey sweet haze that fogged both your minds, he was sane enough to not set you down, not wishing to risk harm to your injury any further.

#kyle gaz garrick #kyle gaz smut #Gaz smut #gaz x you #gaz x reader #gaz x female reader #call of duty modern warfare #call of duty gaz #modern warfare smut

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callsigndragon · 2 years

Text

What I've been waiting for | Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw

Pairing: Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw x Military Doctor!fem!Mitchell!reader

Summary: Bradley's best friend, the one that he hasn't seen in five years, comes back home and surprises him. He has some important things to tell her.

Word count: 1.7k

Warnings: fluffy things. EVERYONE IS ALIVE HERE. mentions of the uranium mission. and lots of flufffff.

A/N: This one was requested by my lovely @shrimping-for-all !! Hope you like it, it was really fun to write

Tag list: @tayrae515 @alexxavicry @xoxabs88xox @mercurio23

Thanks to @abaker74 for the marvelous Goose line at the end of the fic 💕

(if you want to be in the 'All TGM' tag list, send me an ask!)

When Maverick appeared on Bradley's third birthday with a baby in his arms, Goose almost had a heart attack. Where did that baby come from? Was it Penny and Mav's daughter? Wait, was Maverick still seeing Penny? He had many questions, but it was his son's day, and he decided to just let it go for the moment.

Goose saw in you the daughter he and Carole never had. And when Maverick and Penny (yes, you were their daughter) made them your godparents, the Bradshaws knew that that girl would be loved as their own daughter.

Bradley and you grew up supporting and loving each other as much as your fathers did. You became best friends, even though there was a five-year gap between you, and the two of you continued the Mitchell-Bradshaw-partners-in-crime association that your dads began.

Carole loved having baby Mitchell around, Goose and her were unable to bring another baby to this world, even though they tried so hard, it just wasn't meant to be. Penny used to take you to Carole's house whenever the aviators were away on a mission, so they could keep each other company.

When you grew up, everyone and their mother thought that the young Mitchell would follow her father's steps, join the Navy, and become a legendary aviator… just like her father and her grandfather did before her. Nobody expected you to become a military doctor. You joined the military, gained the name ‘Doc’, and saved lives wherever they sent you.

You love your job. The fact that you are out there, making sure that people go back home to see their families again makes it worthy. Even spending months away from home. You don’t remember the last time you were home for Christmas, but it’s okay. People need you in the field, not eating Christmas cookies.

There’s only one person who is not very happy with not seeing you: Rooster.

Look, he’s been in love with you since he can remember. You’re his best friend, his partner in crime, the person he wants to call every time he gets good news… You were there when his mom got sick and helped him make the party when Carole got home after that big surgery that saved her life. He doesn’t have a memory without you. Well, every single one from the last five years.

It doesn’t matter how much the two of you have tried to see each other. Something always came up: one of you was called back to base, deployed or whatever. It’s been five years since the last time he saw you in person.

He’s scared that by the time you come back you’ll tell him how you’ve met the love of your life or how you have a partner… He promised himself, five years ago, that when you came back, he would confess. He didn’t want to do it before you went away for months, he didn’t want to tell you during your deployment and make your staying there more difficult.

He’s been waiting five years. Maybe the universe is trying to send him a message. That he has to move on, to let you go. But he can’t. Rooster can’t imagine himself with any other person that it’s not you. And he doesn’t want to.

Iceman told you that all your family will be here tonight, even your mom is working. You’re so excited to see your mom, your sister Amelia and your dad after so many months away. Admiral told you that your mom and your dad are together again, and you just hope that this time it lasts. They love each other, but your father hasn’t ever been an easy guy.

You stop in front of the Hard Deck, looking inside from the big windows, seeing all your family. Rooster’s at the piano, singing Great Balls of Fire with Goose. Carole and Penny are behind the bar, serving drinks to the customers. Maverick is dancing with Amelia, your younger sister smiling happily. God, how have you missed them.

You move to the back door, trying to be sneaky and move towards them without being seen. You made it to the piano, luckily, without being seen, and put your arms around the male Bradshaws, singing the song with them. Goose is the first one to turn around and realize it’s his goddaughter who is behind him. He gets up so fast, bringing you in to hug you.

“Mav, your daughter is back!” he yells next to your ear.

You don’t know many people are hugging you right now. You can feel a lot of arms around you, people laughing and even some crying. But you couldn’t care less. Your eyes can only focus on the man you have grown to love, your best friend, who is standing in front of you, completely dazzled to see your figure in front of him.

“Hey, y’all can I hug my friend for a second? I haven’t seen him in years” you say, pulling away from the rest and getting closer to Rooster.

His eyes scan your face in frenetic movements, drinking you in, finding the new scars and marks that cover your skin. “Couldn’t you let me know in advance?” he asks, swallowing his feelings. He’s about to cry, and you know it.

“It wouldn’t be a surprise if you knew”

“Oh my god, you’re back” he tackles you in a hug, almost falling down if Goose and Mav weren’t behind you.

“Yes, I’m back you big cry baby” you mock, but your eyes are full of tears as well.

“A round on the house for my daughter!” your mom announces, making the whole bar erupt into cheers.

“C’mon, you have so many things to tell me” Rooster says, grabbing your hand and leading you to one of the tables.

You spend the next hours talking, laughing, learning the news about Rooster being team leader of an elite squad, Iceman being cancer-free, your mom and dad having decided to marry at last… So many things have happened in the last few months. You had a few weeks off in summer and came back to the States to be with your family, going one day to your mom’s and another to your dad’s because they didn’t want to be in the same room. And now, they’re going to marry. Life is surely a box full of surprises.

But you eventually get overwhelmed by being the center of attention, stepping outside and sitting on the beach. Your job has made you hate sand, but this one feels different. Feels like home.

“You can’t come back and disappear again, ya know” Rooster says, sitting with you and taking off his jacket and covering your shoulders with it.

“I didn’t disappear, just needed some fresh air”

He tilts his head, looking at you with a small smile. “How can you be even prettier than the last time I saw you?”

You chuckle, thanking that it is night already, and he can’t see your stupid smile. “I think you’re drunk”

“Nope, I only had a beer” he clears his throat and looks at the sand between his feet. “I want to tell you something. I’ve been waiting five years to tell you, but it has never been the right time with us being on different sides of the globe…”

“I’m here now. Don’t waste any more time”

“I love you. I have loved you all my life. I loved you when we were kids, and we played with Legos, building a house in which I wish we could live in the future. I loved you when you came to my house after our dads had to leave on a mission, and you were so scared that you hugged me all night long, as if I was your safe net. I-I loved you when you looked for me after prom, scared because you wanted to follow your dreams and not your father's. That night I knew you were slipping through my fingers, and I wanted to confess so bad… I wanted you to be mine, but I couldn't say it."

"W-why?" you ask in a shaky breath.

"Because I wasn't brave enough. But when I crashed that plane three weeks ago to save your father, I swore that if I made it out alive, I would tell you"

"You did what?!"

"Don't focus on that, I'm pouring my heart out here," he complains, rolling his eyes.

"Bradley, I love you too, but you can't just tell someone 'hey I almost died but here I am, confessing my feelings' and continue like it's nothing" you punch him in the shoulder.

"It wasn't that bad, y/n. Don't worry"

"Rooster, what happened?" you insist.

"He tried to save me, and I wasn't having it, so I tried to go and save him, but I got hit and then - Did you tell me you love me?"

"...you really have the attention span of a goldfish" you can't help but laugh at his shocked expression.

"Say it again," he pleads with shiny eyes.

"That you have the attention span of a goldfish? Because I-"

You never finish your sentence, his lips silence you in the sweetest way possible. You freeze for a second, causing Rooster to pull back. “I’m sorry, I didn’t ask if you want-” he mutters. You hold his face in your hands, as if he were your entire world, which he is, and kiss him again with such passion that you run out of breath. You move away slowly, Rooster’s eyes stay closed, and he leans his forehead against yours.

“Of course I wanted, you idiot” you laugh and smile at his happy face.

“Well, Doc…wanna meet my parents?” he jokes, getting up from the floor and giving you a helping hand.

“Goose, your son is kissing my daughter!” you hear your dad yell from the bar. You can’t know for sure, but you hear someone shout a big, happy ‘Finally!’. It sounded like your mom.

"No, Mav" says Goose, walking outside and standing next to Maverick. "Your daughter is kissing my son"

They keep bickering like an old married couple, making the both of you laugh.

“Isn’t it a bit early for that?” you follow.

“Well, I’m sure they’re gonna love you. You’re everything they’ve ever wished for me. Everything I’ve been waiting for” he confesses, making your heart beat faster, and kissing your forehead, before taking you with the rest of your own small, crazy and loving family.

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my-my-my · 5 months

Note

may i request a scenario of aizen seducing his s/o 😳 thank you 💕

Sure! It's been a while since I wrote something remotely NSFW, so I feel a bit rusty. Timeline is vague, but it's female reader and Captain Aizen (and I miss him!).

The song that was the inspiration for this little drabble was Jupiter - Elliot Uppercut (Mr. Gonzo Remix).

Tags: @stygianoir

TW: NSFW: fingering. Relationship between reader and Aizen can be interpreted to an abuse-of-power situation, but I left it vague on what position reader is.

Every couple of decades, Lieutenants Sasakibe and Matsumoto liked to host a grand party in the world of the living as a celebration during peacetime. Their reasoning was that it was a “great learning experience” to see what mortals were doing, and not everyone liked to “celebrate” with a Japanese tea ceremony (that Captains Yamamoto and Unohana enjoyed planning). You chalked up that for Lieutenant Sasakibe, it was true that he wanted to know more about the mortals and what was considered “modern”, but you knew for Lieutenant Matsumoto, it was just an excuse to have fun and party. She didn’t need the reason of peacetime to throw one.

Every party differed depending on the whatever trends those in the living were experiencing. This was your second party, and you knew it was already different from the first. You remembered wearing a delicate kitsuke with floral motifs.

This time… you couldn’t believe your appearance. You were told to close your eyes as Lieutenant Matsumoto insisted on styling you for tonight’s party. Apparently, Lieutenant Ichimaru and her were in secrecy over something, but you weren’t sure of what.

You inched closer to the mirror, inspecting your face and you outfit. You had never, in your centuries as a Shinigami, worn anything like this. Lieutenant Matsumoto highlighted your eyes with glittery eyeshadow, while your lashes were accented with mascara, while a gold, sequin-covered mini dress hugged your body, with the final touches of bejewelled, black satin heels, adorning your feet. Your accessories were minimal, your hair styled in a way you weren’t familiar with, but you couldn’t help but blush – you looked good.

Lieutenant Matsumoto was also dressed in a similar fashion, her curvaceous figure being accented in her glittery mini dress. As Matsumoto inspected her appearance for any last-minute touch-ups, she grabbed your arm and chanting a quick spell to transport you both to the venue.

Bright, colourful lights, a ball covered in silver (was this what Lieutenant Matsumoto called a “disco ball”?), followed by pounding music.

The floor with the other party goers was changing colours to the beat of the music, as they danced their worries away. You recognized some captains and lieutenants at the bar, their outfits seemingly fitting with their personality.

Before you could ask Matsumoto what you should do, she ran off with Lieutenant Ichimaru. Sighing, you made your way to the edge of the dancefloor, watching your fellow colleagues dance away.

You couldn’t help yourself but hum to the song, gently swaying and moving to the rhythm. It was then you were tapped on your bare shoulder, startling you out of your reverie.

“I’m sorry to startle you – you looked like you should be on the floor and not on the sidelines” the man smiled. His brown hair slightly pushed back, a deep navy blue shirt that wasn’t buttoned fully all the way – leaving his bare chest exposed, tucked into black pants secured with a black belt with a gold buckle.

You stood there, blinking as to who it was, but as he smiled – you immediately recognized,

“Oh! Captain Aizen! I barely recognized you.” You answered. “I’m not used to seeing you without your glasses.”

“Yes – and it’s a first for me as well.” Aizen responded sheepishly. “I’m wearing what’s called ‘contact lenses’? They’re fairly new to the Realm of the Living and Sereitei.”

You hummed in acknowledgement as you stared his face. Without his glasses, his eyes were sharp and intense, completely opposite to the gentle and kind voice he had.

“But back to my earlier comment – you should be on the dancefloor. You shouldn’t deny yourself from having fun, especially with how much time Lieutenant Matsumoto spent to throw this event.” Captain Aizen remarked as he looked over your body.

“I will if you will, Captain Aizen!” You laughed, as you pulled him with you.

The song changed to a more upbeat one and you felt your hips sway again, your body moving on its own to the rhythm. You smiled as your body moved to the music, closing your eyes as you let go. It was when you opened your eyes, when you noticed Captain Aizen smiling, but not moving.

You grabbed his hands again encouraged him to move his legs, motioning him to move them as you were. Once he followed the rhythm, you guided his arms. “You got this Captain Aizen!” You cheered as you danced along with him.

Soon the song shifted to a slower tempo, but you were too lost to the rhythm to notice. It was when you felt strong arms grip your waist, and a hard, warm body behind you, you stopped moving.

You jolted as you felt Captain Aizen’s breath near your ear, with him whispering, “keep going, you look divine tonight.” His deep voice flowing through your brain as if in a trance, and you picked up your pace again. You moved your body against him, as he started pulling you off dancefloor.

While the music was still as loud, you realized you were in a more secluded are of the venue. It was then Captain Aizen spun you around, pushing you softly to the wall. You both were panting, a thin layer of sweat between you two.

Captain Aizen’s cheeks were flushed, and you knew your face was no better.

“Do you know how many people were watching you tonight?” Captain Aizen asked you, closing the gap between both your bodies. “You’re a divine vision amongst these mere mortals.” He murmured, tracing your face with a finger.

“A beautiful goddess in all her glory” Aizen commented, as you felt your cheeks grow hot again. You weren’t used to such compliments, but you felt emboldened.

“What are you trying to say, Captain Aizen?” You asked, grabbing his silk shirt, bringing you face-to-face with him. You swallowed hard as you stared at his intense brown eyes, as they narrowed down to look at you again.

“Would a goddess give a private dance to a humble man?” Aizen asked, pushing his face to your neck, giving you a soft nip as his lips made their way to your ear. You gasped as he began to nibble at your lobe, while his arms traveled along your body, with gentle squeezes.

Aizen’s hands started to drift lower as your dress rose higher. You relaxed your body as his warm fingers gently massaged your inner thighs, slowly creeping to your dampening panties. You were getting slick from his ministrations, as began to kiss you. You fervently kissed him back, throwing your arms across his neck and widening your legs.

You felt one of Aizen’s fingers push the measly cloth of your underwear aside as he inserted one finger inside. You winced at the intrusion, but began to moan as Aizen thumbed your clit, rubbing it softly. You clenched his shirt as he began to push more fingers inside you, as you writhed and moaned against the wall.

Aizen smirked at the sight as you became undone by just his fingers – how would you feel around his cock if you were this tight around his fingers, he thought to himself. He pumped his fingers in you, as he pushed the straps of your dress down – nipping and biting your bare chest.

He could hear and feel you getting close – prompting him to pull away from you.

“What – please don’t stop!” You began to plead, as Aizen watched you with amusement in his eyes.

“My goddess, why don’t we go somewhere private – you did promise a humble man for a night of privacy.” Aizen grinned at your disheveled state – lips slightly swollen from his kisses, hardened nipples and thighs covered in your own slick. You nodded your headed eagerly, as you held on to his arm – leading you to a night of more feverish “dancing”.

Dress I was imagining for reader was this Pac Rabanne piece, paired with Manolo Blahnik's Hangisi 70 heels.

#bleach #aizen sousuke #aizen sosuke #aizen x reader #aizen sosuke x reader #aizen x y/n #aizen x you #bleach writings #aizen writings #aizen smut #sousuke aizen #sosuke aizen #aizen sosuke x you #aizen sosuke x y/n

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ohtobeleah · 1 year

Note

congrats on 4k!! you deserve it leah 🫶💕

PL2 with scenario 32 (date gone wrong) and sentence 31 (“i won’t let anyone hurt you”) with mickey?

Protective Mickey is a weakness of mine through and through so thank you for attacking my weak spot.

Warnings: Sexual Assault. Mickey Garcia x F!reader. Please do not read ahead of you are sensitive to topics that include sexual assault and unwanted advances.

Mickey Garcia would throw his literal life on the line for you, he would give up his Mr ‘good guy’ Fanboy golden retriever energy to protect you from harm's way. He’d drop the gentle demeanour that he and Robert Floyd seemed to work pretty hard to maintain in a heartbeat to throw down with any man who put you in any form of danger, and he did just that, last night, when someone did just that, put his best friend in danger.

Mickey, currently—could be found sitting at his desk with his knuckles bruised and a black eye. He was a mess to say the least and he most certainly wasn’t making the situation any better by watching the group chat pop off like he was the talk of the town. He knew come Monday morning he was gonna get a write up. But that was the least of his concerns.

You were his number one priority.

Mickey had snuck back into his room after he’d spent the better half of the night with his arms wrapped around you in a warm and ever so protective embrace with a bag of frozen peas from the freezer pressed to his eye. You were so out of it still but you managed to recognise the smell of Mickey's cologne, settling into his touch to wrap your arms around his tense shoulders.

Fanboy still wasn’t over it, he hadn’t slept all night. You would know because you too had laid awake all night just breathing in the familiar scent of Mickey Fanboy Garcia, still very much hungover, still very very dazed and confused.

“Watching people spread falsified drama around town about you won’t help Mick.” You mumbled into Mickey's neck as you came to stand beside him at his desk, leaning over his shoulder as you watched the video Jake had sent to the group text of Mickey nearly beating the guy who’d spiked your drink and tried to take advantage of you, within an inch of his life play on his phone screen.

“S’not falsified, besides, can only see it through one eye so it’s only half as bad as it would be normally.” Mickey responded with a soft chuckle that rumbled through his chest as he held your hand that was gently playing with his chest hairs—firmly bringing it to his split lip and leaving a gentle kiss upon your palm. “Are you okay?”

As you removed your arms from Mickey's body briefly, he spun around in his chair as you sat down comfortably into his lap—straddling his waist as you cradled his beaten up yet still so beautiful face between your hands. Your eyes glancing over every inch of him. You took in everything before you as you shook your head.

“No.” You held back a sob as tears threatened to spill over your lower lash line. You took a moment to breathe in deeply and exhale slowly—with your eyes closed tight, your body tensed up from remembering the events of the night prior.

***~***~***~***~***~***~**~

It was as impromptu as your presence in North Island was, you’d come to stay with Mickey for a week or two after you’d finished up your apprenticeship at the bakery back home. You needed a break, a reprieve from the mundane.

So when you found yourself sitting across from some guy at one of the booths in the Hard Deck listening to him drone on about his latest tactical response time for the US Navy, you knew you were a little far gone when it all sounded like a blur of words you didn’t understand.

“So you two never—?” Hangman asked as he bumped Fanboys shoulder with his as they played a casual game of pool. “She seems like a nice girl? I could probably take her home to mama Seresin and she’d probably approve.” Jake got a chuckle from Mickey as he took his shot before standing to look over at where you were, happily laughing away with this guy who’d stolen your attention.

“Y/n’s just Y/n.” Mickey tried to play down the fact he’d been in love with you since the fourth grade. “And I like to see you try Hangman—she’s got standards.” Mickey napped back at Jake as his jaw slightly hung in utter disgust.

“I’m uh—gonna go to the bathroom for a minute.” You made it a point to politely excuse yourself from the gentlemen who was sitting across from you. He nodded and took another sip of his drink as you rose to your feet—a little wobbly. God you always pushed it two far, your liver must’ve fucking hated you at this point. Poor little guy, you promised yourself you’d never drink this much again as you made your way towards the bathrooms at the back of the bar. Mickey caught your gaze. He just needed to know where you were was all.

Although you threw up the contents of your stomach into the toilet bowl, thinking that it was just because you’d had a little bit too much to drink—willing yourself to lay off the alcohol for a while, you swore you hadn’t had that many cocktails.

Everything was fuzzy as you sat on the somewhat clean bathroom floor with your head in your knees. You didn’t care about modesty or the fact that you were wearing a dress and if anyone walked in they would see your underwear. You didn’t care, but you would.

You didn’t even notice when he walked in, you felt so off and incoherent to the point you were almost blind it was a miracle you hadn’t said anything embarrassing.

“I’m not feeling so good, Flyboy.” You tried focusing your eyes on the built man you thought was your best friend, only noticing the dark locks and firm shoulders that you held on to as he picked you up from the floor with ease and placed you on the marble countertop. It caused your dress to very much roll up your thighs, clearly exposing your panties. But you didn’t care, it was only Mickey?

Right?

“Mick? W-what are you?” You started to ask as the man who you thought was Mickey pulled your legs apart with ease, to tired, drunk, dazed and very confused to fight back at all.

“S’okay dollface, I’m gonna take real good care of you.” His lips attached themselves to your neck as you tried to move away. Like a succubus, the man made his way up the expanse of your neck.

“Stop, Mickey, I'm serious! Get off me!?” You tried your hardest but it was to no avail, the man who now looked nothing like Mickey Garcia had pinned your hands above your head with one arm as he unfastened his belt and fly.

“We were having such a good time out there, I thought maybe we could have a little more in here.” You were drunk, yes, but you knew you didn’t want this, didn’t ask for this, didn’t make any advances that could have led to this. The shock of the man pinning your arms cleared your eyes long enough for you to see it wasn’t Mickey - it was the guy you’d been on an impromptu date with and had flirted with for drinks all night. Turns out he wasn’t just buying you rounds, he’d spiked them too. “You’re so fucking sexy.”

His hand was cold against your entrance as he pulled your panties to the side, he knew how high you were because he had fed you the drugs. Whatever the hell he’d spiked your last drink with.

“Y/n? You in there?” Jake asked as he knocked on the door. He tried his best to turn the handle but it was locked. “You ran in here like ten minutes ago?” A mumbled Jake Seresins voice broke through the haze and confusion as he knocked on the bathroom door which clearly stated ‘occupied’

“HEL—!” You screamed, the man’s hand came up to cover your mouth before the p could leave your lips. Your worried eyes meet the man who stood between your legs as you struggled to breathe against his hand.

“S’okay? We’re okay? Right dollface?”

What he didn’t know? was that Jake had heard that. He knew it was you who just screamed, and he definitely didn’t like the sound of the last sentence he heard. Rage pumped through his veins as he barged against the flimsy door - catching the eye of Fanboy who was already on his way over after seeing Jake press his ear to the bathroom door, you’d been gone a hell of a lot longer than Mickey was comfortable with. What the hell was going on and where the bell was that dude you were just with?

“Hangman? What’s wrong?”

“Y/n’s fucking in there! And I heard a guy's voice, something’s not right” Mickeys heart sank as Jake barged against the door again. This was the Hard Deck. Things like this didn’t happen at the Hard Deck.

Oh boy was Jake right because the guy you’d thought could have been a decent guy had almost his entire length inside you before the door came flying off its hinges - Jake and Mickey followed right after as the guy quickly pulled himself from you and started fixing his pants.

Mickey took one look at the sight in front of him and felt his blood boil. With fire ignited in his heart he wasted no time grabbing the guy by his collar and slamming him to the wall—no questions asked. Mickey threw his first punch of the night as Jake picked you up and carried you out.

“I got you—“ Jake soothed you as he assessed your state and immediately knew you weren’t all there. “Penny! I need you to call an ambulance and the fucking cops.”

“THE FUCK GIVES YOU THE RIGHT!” Another punch landed against the guys face as Mickey seethed through gritted teeth. He saw nothing but red in front of him. How dare he touch you, assault you, violate your trust and kind heart.

“I’ll fucking kill you before I walk out this door! Mother fucker! What gives you the right! To TOUCH her!?” Another punch landed, three to the nose in less than ten seconds. You can clearly see how the bruised hands came to be.

“She wanted it!” The guy cried out through a smirk and bloodied teeth before shoving Mickey off him and landing his one and only punch against Mickey of the night before he almost came close to visiting the gates of hell.

It was all over pretty quick but it was long enough for videos to be taken and spread like wildfire- no context given. You really couldn’t in that moment of madness comprehend the severity of the situation.

Jake handed you over to Mickey once he had finished talking with the police. Making sure a case would be brought against your attacker before talking with the medics to see if you needed to be admitted overnight, you quietly sobbed into his chest, confused and scared. “I’m so sorry I couldn’t protect you.” Was all you remember Mickey saying before you passed out, not really remembering the rest of the night until you were laying in silence against Mickey's chest—breathing in the familiar scent that is Mickey Fanboy Garcia. “But I won’t let anyone ever hurt you again, I promise.”

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~

Leah’s 4k celebration 🎊

#leah’s 4k celebration 🎊#mickey garcia #mickey fanboy garcia #mickey garcia imagine #mickey garcia x you #mickey garcia fluff #mickey garcia fanfiction #fanboy x female reader #top gun fanboy

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stellari-s · 1 year

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Hi!

First of all i love your Ithaqua stories and head canons. Unfortunately, since Ithaqua is a new Hunter, I can't really find stories with him.

But here is my request for you. I really want to see like a Ithaqua x reader story. I was thinking maybe the story can be about the reader is a survivor and like they meet in a match and fall in love or something like that 😅

Thank you for reading this little message. And you don't have to write this request if you don't want to.

💕

aw, thank you so much, anon! i really really appreciate that you like what i write 🥹 lemme know what you think!

request; yes, and they're open! especially ithaqua ones. please gimme them 🥺🤲

wc; 732.

tags; a tiny bit of violence? first meeting, some romantic hints, gn survivor! reader, literal midnight writing 😳

summary; you run into a new hunter who goes by ithaqua during a match, and he invites you to play a small game...

whenever someone enters oletus manor, rumors spread like wildfire.

you’ve heard all about it from your fellow survivors.

how there is a new hunter who carries with him strong gusts of wind that could make the snow dance to his will. a masked and hooded hunter who stood on high blade-like stilts. an axe wielder with a single lantern that glowed blue and yellow as if under a spell.

at first, you were not all that interested. at this point, you have been stuck in this manor doing spontaneous matches for an owner whose face you never saw before.

things were starting to get a bit dull.

that is... until today.

“don’t rescue me!” your teammate shouts, tied securely the tall red chair. “go for the tie!”

you want to win, but you see the navy-clad hunter near the chair, looking at you with his head tilted, as if trying to read what move you will make and when.

eventually, your teammate’s chair starts spinning faster and faster until it flies into the sky, leaving you completely alone with the hunter.

“are you just going to stand there?” the hunter asks. his voice, contrary to his intimidating appearance, is rather light, laced with some curiosity. “if that’s the case, how about we play a little game?”

you pause for a second before responding cautiously, “...what game?”

“a game of tag,” he replies, “i’ll give a 10 second head start. if you don’t get caught by me before reaching the dungeon, you’re free to escape. otherwise, i’ll do the same as i did to your teammate.” with his weapon, the hunter gestures to the now ashen spot on the ground where the chair had unceremoniously flown off. the lantern hangs on the edge below the blade, so it dangles hypnotically back and forth as he swings it. “how about it?”

at the very least, i can snag a tie.

“alright,” you concede after some thought, “deal.”

laughter echoes through the map as you run. the hunter keeps his promise, giving you a full 10 seconds before pursuing you.

there are times as you’re running when you feel your breath being cut short by strong wind pulling you in. sometimes, you slam into a wall, and while the impact hurt, it helps you keep distance. this game of tag continues on with you running him, occasionally playing some mind games to get yourself out of a pinch.

eventually it hits you like a gust that this chase is interesting.

it’s fun.

such fun can only last so long, though, as the hunter hits you from behind, causing you to stumble forward and collapse. your body is aching from running, bumping into walls, and now from being hit, but nonetheless you muster energy to try and struggle when he ties you to a balloon.

oh god, i’m going to be chaired...

thinking about how the chair’s spinning gives you nausea gives more drive to struggle free.

much to your surprise, though, he takes you to the dungeon and pops the balloons, causing you to fall to the ground with a thud.

“you... you’re letting me go?”

the hunter tilts his head again - it reminds you of a cat somewhat - as he replies, “you played the game well, so why not?”

you crawl toward the dungeon’s dark entrance as you half-jokingly reply, “not one to keep promises, are you?”

“normally i would chair you, but take this as an acknowledgement.” his tone matches your own.

you have a feeling you are going to run into him a lot from now on.

inside of matches... and outside of them too.

of course, you don’t know that for sure. it’s just a strange, inexplicable feeling tugging on your chest.

you are about to jump down to the dark depths of the dungeon that is linked back to the manor, but before you do, you turn back. the tugging in your chest grows stronger, feeling like a stretched rubber band, every step you move away from him.

“can you tell me your name?” you ask.

the hunter chuckles, index finger over where his lips are under his mask like sharing a secret. “just call me ithaqua.”

that mysterious taut sensation in your chest seems to subside the moment you hear his name, and with a small smile playing on your lips, you jump, your surroundings turning dark.

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