Neteyam And Lo'ak With A Human Reader Who Likes To Cuddle With Them And Listen To Them Purr?

Neteyam and Lo'ak with a human reader who likes to cuddle with them and listen to them purr?

The headcanon that the Na'vi purr makes me so giddy.

Pairing: Neteyam, Lo'ak x Fem!Reader

Tags: fluff, established relationship, cuddles, tail shenanigans, purring

A/N: Any character that purrs? Mine.

NETEYAM

He loves cuddles with you, one of his favorite ways of getting rest

It's not uncommon for him to fall asleep with you in his arms

Really likes stargazing with you while cuddling, so he takes you flying and on the highest trees or a cliff where you can see the sky really well

Of course he brings something to wrap you up with so you're not cold

Or he can just hold you close to him and keep you warm, which ever you want

Doesn't mind cuddling with you when you're in a group either, he likes being openly affectionate

When he's really relaxed he does purr, very loudly too, which only invites you to get closer

You like hearing him purr, it lets you know just how relaxed he is with you and how much he trusts you given that he never once stopped himself from doing so in your company, except that first time

But after that he knows that you find it cute so he has no reason to stop if it's something that makes you smile

Besides it's a natural response of his, you're gonna be hearing a lot more of that as the years go by so might as well get used to it now

LO'AK

The first time he purred was when he woke up all groggy and you kissed his cheek

He let out the deep, rumbling noise without ever realizing he did and tried to deny it hard

You've noticed that most of the time he does this in his sleep rather then when he's awake

Has done it while awake too, when you're laying on his chest after a long day, his arm around your shoulder, tail draped over your back and you nuzzling into him, he will purr then

Or if you hold on to him while you're flying together you will feel him purr since your hands are close to his chest

A sure way to get him to purr is to touch his tail, or rather the base of it

If you just touch it gently while cuddling or hugging he will let out the cutest noise you've ever heard and you just see him melt at the touch

That is a weakness of his that only you can know, no one else

Pretty sure that he's seen you giggling about it before but he chooses not to say anything

There's a part of him that really likes doing that for you as it gets you to snuggle in closer, which is always a bonus for him, therefore he can live with you knowing he has a weak spot

Hi honey! I don't know if u r taking requests right now but if you do I have one. Can you make a standalone where Ghost and F/reader are together for like 1/2 year(s) and she is always like really nervous around Ghost and can't look him in the eye for too long because she is really shy and Ghost kind of like the effect he has on her. Something along that way :)

Thank you so much and have a great day!!🤍

ɞ - 𝑤𝑒𝑎𝑘 𝑖𝑛 𝑡𝚑𝑒 𝑘𝑛𝑒𝑒𝑠

𝑠𝑖𝑚𝑜𝑛 "𝑔𝚑𝑜𝑠𝑡" 𝑟𝑖𝑙𝑒𝑦 𝑥 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑟

𝑠𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑦: 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑐𝑎𝑛'𝑡 𝑙𝑜𝑜𝑘 𝑠𝑖𝑚𝑜𝑛 𝑖𝑛 𝑡𝚑𝑒 𝑒𝑦𝑒𝑠- 𝚑𝑒 𝑓𝑖𝑛𝑑𝑠 𝑖𝑡 𝑣𝑒𝑟𝑦 𝑎𝑚𝑢𝑠𝑖𝑛𝑔

𝑤𝑎𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠: 𝑖𝑘𝑒 𝑜𝑛𝑒 𝑠𝑤𝑒𝑎𝑟 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑑? 𝑔𝑛 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑟 ( 𝑖 𝑡𝚑𝑖𝑛𝑘 𝑚𝑏 𝑖𝑓 𝑛𝑜𝑡) 𝑓𝑙𝑢𝑓𝑓 𝑘𝑖𝑛𝑑𝑎?? 𝑎 𝑙𝑜𝑛𝑔 𝑑𝑟𝑎𝑏𝑏𝑙𝑒 𝑙𝑜𝑙

𝑤𝑐: 830

𝑎/𝑛: 𝑚𝑦 𝑓𝑖𝑟𝑠𝑡 𝑟𝑒𝑞!!!! 𝑠𝑜𝑟𝑟𝑦 𝑡𝚑𝑖𝑠 𝑡𝑜𝑜𝑘 𝑠𝑜 𝑙𝑜𝑛𝑔 𝑙𝑜𝑙 𝑖 𝑎𝑚 𝑡𝚑𝑒 𝑏𝑖𝑔𝑔𝑒𝑠𝑡 𝑝𝑟𝑜𝑐𝑟𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑎𝑡𝑜𝑟 𝑚𝑏𝑚𝑏. 𝚑𝑜𝑝𝑒 𝑡𝚑𝑖𝑠 𝑚𝑒𝑒𝑡𝑠 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑒𝑥𝑝𝑒𝑐𝑡𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛𝑠 𖠌

anyone would be nervous if a 6’4 buff military man locked eyes with you. right? possibly- but does knowing him for 4 years make it any better? does dating for two of those years help? nope. looking this hunk of a guy in the eyes didn’t get any less nerving, even after knowing him for so long.

the way he trapped you under your gaze made you nervous. it made your fingers drum against your cargo pants -it made your heavy boots tap on the concrete. he must know, he gave it away by the way he held his stare- not daring to look away. he knew it made you nervous- he knew it made you weak in the knees. maybe if you could look him in the eyes for longer, you’d see the glimmer in them when your eyes drifted down and your face went hot.

the first time he noticed- it was a team briefing. you were sat across from him, he was looking at you- as always- and he began to zone out. he admired your face- your beauty. the way you chewed on your cheek in concentration as you listened carefully to the orders price was giving out . he was lucky to have someone like you in his life. someone to trust, someone to kiss, someone to hug.

at first- he didn’t notice he was staring at you. but when price slammed something onto the table - most likely harder than he intended to - it snapped him out of his trace. he was confused- to say the least- he didn’t understand the ways your eyes were darting all over the place… until he did.

your fingers - which were resting against the table - were fighting against each other and your knee was bouncing at a particular pace. he knew it was yours- the table was rocking and soap - who was sitting on his right -  was completely still. as for gaz, he was sat, on a chair, away from the table, why? god knows - but that left you.

 he understood now- you were nervous. why? because you were caught under his gaze.

that moment, he was thankful for the mask. it hid the smirk on his face. well- not that you could look for long enough to see it. he was still staring at you- he realised. maybe he should stop. let you focus. so he, thoughtfully, looked away- though not before taking one last glance, just for fun.

the second time, he’d actually forgotten. you were all cramped into a little plane, on the route to a mission. soap was squashed up beside you, practically locking you into the wall. ghost, however, was facing you, the tip of his boots pressed against yours. he was looking at soap, who was waffling about god knows what- it was always hard to keep up with what the scot was saying.

you- were also listening. just not so intensely. you didn’t bother to turn your body to look at soap, you couldn’t, he had you trapped against the wall. so, you had to look straight ahead. right at ghost.

you did your best to avoid his eyes. you stared at the wall of the plane, his vest, the badge on his jacket - hell even his gun. but you found yourself staring back into his eyes. you loved his eyes- you did, even if it didn’t seem like it. you loved the way they sparkled in the sunlight- the way they lit up when you walked into a room. but you just couldn’t maintain eye contact.

he tried to listen to soap- for a change - he really did, but eventually, the man became a buzzing in his ears. so he turned his attention back to you. as soon as his eyes began to move, so did yours. you looked away as quickly as possible- deciding the marks on the floor were much more interesting to look at.

ghost, although hidden by the mask, raised an eyebrow at this. again, he didn’t understand why. he racked his brain for the memory or the reason. oh. right.

the corners of his lips perked up, and he kicked his foot against your boot. he watched your eyebrows furrow, and your teeth gnaw at your bottom lip. he kicked again, and again until you were forced to look at him. he was having far too much fun for a man about to head onto the battlefield.

you- on the other hand. god, this was the furthest thing from fun you could imagine. he was your boyfriend for christ’s sake. you hoped he would never notice. the height difference between you two always meant you stared directly at his chest and you almost always sat next to him. maybe you cold try look at him, just once more.

so the next minute- you were staring right into his eyes. maybe a couple of seconds passed, you could already feel your face getting hot, your fingers start to twitch against your knee. fuck sake. you caved in again, looking away. 

and you swear you heard the faintest sound of a deep chuckle come from him.

Dad Ghost resisting the urge to beat up a 7 year old after finding out they’re mean to his kid

ghost resists the urge to beat up anyone who picks on his kids

It’s late. Your eyes are fluttered shut already, but you’re laying your head on his chest and mumbling sleepy, random updates to him. Pieces of information you might’ve forgotten to share over the phone. He’s only been back for a day, but with two kids and an unplanned third on the way, there are so many little things to fill him in on.

“Did she tell you about that boy at school?”

A muscled chest stiffens beneath you. His fingers pause in your hair and he groans.

“Jesus, no. What boy now?”

Your daughter is only five, yet she is quite the talker, constantly sharing with you two details about all her friends and school activities. Simon always did his damned best not to say anything… wrong whenever she mentioned the boys at school. He understood it was normal for her development, her curiosity (yeah, yeah.) That didn’t mean he didn’t hate the growing idea of it, and that he didn’t let a few things slip just to you.

But this time, you sigh and prop your chin on his chest. “Well, he’s this new boy,” you murmur. “And he’s two years older than her-“

“He’s… what?”

“Listen, Simon. This isn’t one she fancies.” You sigh and touch the side of his inked arm gently. “He was… picking on her a bit this week. In the school yard-“

“Picking on her?” Simon repeats, words slipping out slow through tightening teeth. You see a scowl furrow. “How?”

“Well, she told me that he was teasing her about her hair on Monday. But then it turned into him calling her some names-“

“What the fuck?” You feel him shift underneath you, carefully lifting you off his chest only so he can sit up straight. Roughly now, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I’m telling you now, aren’t I?” you mutter softly. Slipping a hand in his cropped hair. “And I already had a word with her teacher about it.”

“And?”

“She says she’ll keep an eye on it.”

“Keep an eye on it? Bloody hell.” His hand clenches. “What’s the kid’s name, huh?”

“Simon-“

“Maybe I’ll keep a goddamn eye on it-“

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

“Calling our girl names? Christ, m’gonna fuck him up.”

“You will do no such thing,” you whisper firmly, fitting a hand over his arm. “Let’s just see if it gets better. If not, you can talk to her teacher.”

“M’gonna talk to her damn teacher tomorrow, anyway.”

Your hands gently guide him back to laying down, but his scowl doesn’t soften.

“Gonna talk to this kid, too.”

“Don’t do that.”

“Why not?”

“You were just talking about hurting him.”

Through flared nostrils, he sighs. Loops his arms back around you and softens a bit.

“I won’t, I won’t,” he mumbles, pressing a firm kiss to your hair. “Just gonna talk to him, yeah?”

“How about you just talk to your daughter instead?” You lay your head back to his chest, hearing the steady pounding of his heart. “Talk to her about standing up for herself, okay?”

And he does. Simon has a long talk with his little girl the next day before school, perhaps not in the way you meant for him to. Right here, dove, he murmurs to her quietly so you can’t hear, grabbing her little hand and guiding it gently to his nose. Go for him here if he bothers you again, alright?

Hey hope your doing well late (?) Merry christmas! I love your young reader one shots and headcannons, If its okay and if u have the time can I request more young reader but this time they arent their usual excited chaotic self? Their js absolutely silent and any response they give the boys are just hums/nods or short quick responses?? Dont have to do this if you dont want too btw!

✎ tysm for this ask i'm so sorry this has taken so long!! merry super late christmas lol

✎ tags: young military reader, depressed reader, gender neutral reader, all platonic relationships, everyone in the military is emotionally constipated, mentions of therapy, not proofread ofc

♡ soap is the last to notice you're change in demeanor, and that's only about ten seconds after you've come out of the bathroom (plus, in all fairness, he was explaining how he was going to blow up a building).

♡ all four of the 141 task force are sat at the dining table in the safehouse you're all held up in currently. price and simon are both standing, hunched over blueprints and maps while gaz is typing on a laptop, trying to connect back to base. soap is sat off to the side, staring intensely at his own blueprint, marking points to put explosives every few moments.

♡ the mission you were on had been simple, as usual, and had gone wrong, as usual. everyone was used to it by now, on the verge of just expecting it constantly. you were too by now, but they had noticed the cracks forming in your demeanor, the way your usually-wide smile was tightening, how your eyebrows and shoulders wouldn't relax, your leg unable to stop bouncing when you would sit.

♡ you knew to be serious on missions. between small jokes and popping out when they were about to start getting frantic in looking for you, you would be serious, trigger finger always ready and listening for your next orders. this, though, was what the rest of the task force would call "several steps up" from your usual behavior.

♡ when you step out of the bathroom, they notice your head turned to the ground to hide and the lack of your usual announcement that you were back to grace them with your presence. they don't say anything, though. price wonders if this is what he's been waiting for, the day you lose your smile, and it opens a pit in his stomach that he tries to push away for the time being.

♡ you're all stuck in that safehouse for another four days, and it doesn't get any better. they don't hear you speak more than a few words at a time. you don't look them in the eyes anymore. you're restless and eager to keep your distance from them, only seen outside of the tiny room you had claimed when there was an update to the mission.

♡ they wouldn't talk about it, not while they're out on the mission. price stares at the floor while soap and ghost exchange a look, and gaz wonders if he should follow you back to your room. they just keep on working.

♡ all of them are quietly wondering what it was that did it in for you. everything they'd seen wasn't anything new to you. there had only been a total of maybe ten minutes that you weren't by someone else's side during the thick of it. whatever had happened, they weren't asking, and you weren't telling.

♡ when you're all finally evacuated, the helicopter ride back is tense. price and ghost escaped up to the cockpit with the pilot, and soap and gaz are left sitting in the seats across from you. you're just staring down into space. the most they had gotten out of you in the past few hours was a quick affirmation when given an order.

♡ soap tries to ask you if you're doing alright, and after the second call of your name through the headsets you look up at him. he asks again and you say you're good.

♡ after you land, you slip away to an empty meeting room to complete the new piles of paperwork that always came with the completion of a mission. it's late into the night, and even for a military compound, the halls are quiet; it's a heavy contrast from where you were just hours prior, and you're still waiting for another barrage of gunfire in the distance. the only thing that breaks the silence, though, is heavy footsteps coming closer before the door opens.

♡ in walks your captain with his own stack of folders and packets. he doesn't say anything to you, just sinks into the chair at the other end of the table from you and starts sifting through the papers. you just stare at him for a bit, because you know he has his own office. you know how he complains about his back when he has to do paperwork in a chair that isn't his own custom-ordered one.

♡ after a bit you finally get that he's keeping you company. you go back to checking things off and filling in answers, casting a glance up at price every few moments. he acts like he's alone in the room until he finally meets your gaze with raised eyebrows, as if asking, "are we going to talk about it?" and you go back to writing.

♡ none of the men can get you to crack; they hoped you would go back to your usual self after you got back from the mission, but two weeks afterwards they still couldn't get a full sentence out of you. kyle and soap would try their best to get you to laugh, and ghost even told you a couple of his jokes when everyone else was training.

♡ they finally talk about it at the three week point. it's been nearly a month; kyle brings it up hesitantly while they're all sitting together drinking and playing cards and you've gone to bed for the night. everyone puts their cards down and shifts uncomfortably in their seats, but they know they need to talk about it.

♡ they toss around varying ideas of how to cheer you up. soap says they should throw a party, ghost says to just leave you to work it out yourself. price suggests setting you up with one of the on-site therapists at the base and kyle asks if they should just do an "intervention-type-thing". either way, they know they have to talk to you about it. they elect price to try again.

♡ they next day, price pulls you aside into another empty meeting room and sits down with you. he's awkward and clearly a bit out of his depth, but he bares with it. price starts off with clearing his throat and saying that everyone's worried about you. you say you're fine, and he calls bullshit. you stare down at your folded hands while he goes on about how they've all noticed you're lack of energy, eating, going outside, doing anything outside the requirements really.

♡ he finally asks you what happened, and you mumble that you don't know what it was. nothing in particular actually happened. you just didn't know what was wrong with you.

♡ price tells you that it's alright, that there doesn't have to be any one reason, that there isn't anything "wrong" with you. he asks you if you want him to talk to one of the psychologists or therapists in the base for you. he tells you there's no shame in it, that we all need a little help, that everyone's worried and just wants to get you feeling better. you're hesitant to admit that you need the help until he tells you that just about every person in the base has talked to a therapist at least once or twice. it comes with the job.

♡ they start seeing the light in your eyes again when kyle or soap sneaks you your favorite candy bars, and you start laughing at everyone's bad jokes again, little by little. it takes awhile, but they keep doing what they can. they won't talk about it again, but they're all relieved to see the life coming back to you, slowly but surely.

I am excited for ghost and helen car ride 👀 we need more sass and snark hehe

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x F!Reader (Helen!Reader)

an: just a little something for a Saturday 🚘

He doesn’t elaborate on why he’s here instead of Soap, not when he loads the car, not even when the tyres hit the open road.

No explanation provided an hour in or after your two’s pit-stop-fuck. It niggled, tightened in the back of your mind that he was keeping things from you that he could tell you. Something he promised he’d never to do.

But then, you equally had promised not to put yourself in danger, and here you were accepting a mission not necessary for a medic.

You had ways of pulling information from Ghost, and even ways of retrieving it from Simon.

Both begin in the same way, following a similar pattern: indifference. You lull him into believing telling you would be better than whatever the fuck you’re doing. A bribe, an exchange.

Your chosen play was to keep messing with the radio volume and station until it wound him up. Watching his eyes dart in your direction, even if you never met them. His hips shifted periodically, making your eyes stare at the thighs you’d between your own only hours ago.

That was his play—his line of defence: his ridiculous body and his ridiculous way of knowing every inch of yours.

Except, he’d played his hand too soon. Your knickers are still in his pocket, and his cum is still very much inside of you. So, you turned the volume up another two notches, wondering how tight his jaw was under the thin fabric on his face.

You can’t assume you’re getting to him.

That’s how you fail. But, the volume is piercing your ears, so you have to wonder if it is for him. The songs neither of you know blaring, filling the small space with sounds both irritating to you, and him.

So, naturally, you turn it up again. Almost pulling your hand back when his wraps around yours, gripping it with enough purpose to tell you you’re getting to him—but not enough to hurt.

“You not like that song?”

“Enough, Helen. For fuck sake.”

You grin, keeping score as the sun sets. The ambient temperature lessens as the breezes rushes through both of your open windows. Allowing clothes to fall away from damp skin as the low light catches the metal in the car and the metal on his left hand—the evidence of your cover.

A story not far from the truth. One you’d supposed to be spinning with Soap, and not your actual lover.

Soap would also have been bare faced.

“I’d have been fine with Soap, if that’s what you were worried about.”

His hands tightens on the steering wheel. “Wasn’t worried.”

“And, as good as his singing is, it wouldn’t have swayed me from your broody nature. In case, you’re jealous that he’d get to spend two to three days with me.”

He shoots you a glare—eyes standing out due to the lack of paint around them. The same ones you see when he’s bare to you, all walls down, and willing to let you in.

Pieces of truth slide into place in front of your eyes, the puzzle almost readable—almost identifiable.

“How you going to be explain the balaclava, hubby?”

You watch for him tensing at the affectionate name. He doesn’t. If anything, he doesn’t react at all. Likely knowing it’s what you want—that right now the best the two of you have is fighting and fucking to make up for it.

He won’t tell you what’s wrong, and you’re already bored of him being difficult.

“Tell them I’m ugly. Warn ‘em I’m doing them a favour by keepin’ it on.”

You smirk, letting your head roll back on the seat as the breeze whips your hair around your neck. “Next to me, they won’t believe that.”

“Bit full of yourself, Helen.”

“If I remember, I’ma bit full of you.”

“Watch it.”

Snorting, you roll your head to look at him. “Or what? You’ll pull over and stuff more of yourself in me… cause I’ll tell you now, Simon. I’d like that too much for it to be a punishment.”

“You’re something else.”

“It’s why you married me, remember?”

“Engaged, Helen,” he snarls, and your eyes narrow at his side-profile and his tone.

Because you know that, know that the two of you haven’t quite crossed that line just yet. But for this… you’re married. A lie that you’ll need to spin when you reach the end of this particular half of the journey.

You almost saying that, it fermenting on the tip of your tongue.

But his hand takes yours again, clutching it, weaving his bare fingers in between yours. And you let the words die, wilt and fade. Beginning to maybe see what may have been bothering him.

Maybe.